It was important to keep moving. Hopefully the surprise andshock of her arrival would keep Templeton from realizing that his wards weregone.
Dropping the vials back into her pockets, she pulled out heridentification and advanced with it unfolded in her hand to walk across whatseemed like a half acre of marble flooring covered by thick Persian rugs.Templeton probably didn’t care that many of those rugs had been made bychildren, by slave labor, their small fingers ideal for the task.
“FBI, Mr. Templeton,” she said sharply. “Special AgentGabriel Nicholas. We need to talk.”
With apparent unconcern, she looked at the man in the veryexpensive suit who looked up in alarm from his seat in the elegant leatherchair in front of Templeton’s large glass-and-steel desk.
“Unless you want to be a part of this,” Gabriel said, “youneed to leave.”
She had the satisfaction of seeing the faintest flash ofalarm, of shock, in Templeton’s eyes at seeing her. So, he hadn’t been certainshe’d survived but he had thought she might have. Now it was confirmed.
The look in his eyes was clear, he was recalculatingswiftly.
Even so, he was also angry, caught off guard, unprepared andGabriel took some satisfaction in that.
As he rose to his feet, his fingers curled beneath the edgeof his desk.
“Marcus,” Templeton said tightly, “would you be so kind asto wait outside while I speak to Agent Nicholas?”
The other man looked from one to the other uncertainly.
“I’ll leave you to talk,” Marcus said, his voice thicklyaccented—French perhaps but with odd overtones.
He was clearly uneasy but whether it was due to her status,the situation or an issue of his own, Gabriel didn’t know. And she didn’t care.
With a nod, Marcus rose and strode toward the doors.
“Thank you,” she said and received a surprised glance at thecourtesy as the man passed her.
He would have no cause to complain about his treatment.
She gave him what she hoped was a winning smile and receiveda polite but cautious nod in return.
Gabriel took advantage of the moment to clip her ID to herbelt and to reach in her pockets to remove two more of the plastic vials. Sheplaced her thumbs at the edge of the rubber caps. Her heart hammered as italways did at moments like this.
Life-or-death moments.
The next few were crucial.
It would be now, or very soon.
Gabriel flipped the caps on the vials, and with a small snapof her wrists sent the two little vials spinning away from her, their contentsscattering across the carpet.
Before the other man was clear of the room Templeton said,his tone vicious, “This was a very foolish thing to do, Agent Nicholas.”
She knew he pressed the alarm button that was surely therebeneath the glass desktop, hidden by one of the supports.
“I wouldn’t,” she said quietly. “I have two agents outsideyour office, one in the lobby and one in the street.”
On cue, hidden doors swung open and men stepped out.Templeton gestured.
Check.
With only a thought she called Asmodeus and Ashtorethas only the queen of the Daemonae could.
In the next instant there came the sharp aroma of brimstoneand the room was suddenly filled not just by Templeton’s men but by two verylarge, very angry demons in full Daemonae splendor, their wings spread.Asmodeus was to her left, Ashtoreth to her right.
Both wore their swords.
The expansive room abruptly felt smaller and not justbecause of their size, although that was certainly some of it, but it was theirpresence that consumed the space.
Beside her, Asmodeus drew himself up to his full height, hisface tight and grim at the sight of the armed men.
He was beautiful when he was angry, looking more like anavenging angel than a fallen one with his wings spread around him and hisflashing ruby eyes. A shot of lust went through Gabriel just at the sight ofhim in all his magnificent rage.
He was intimidating, awe-inspiring. The air seemed tocrackle with his anger. The long-checked wrath at being imprisoned and thentortured by this man now had release.
If he was intimidating though, Ash, in his cold, implacablefury, with his deeply slanted eyes narrowed and his sharp-boned, almost cruelface drawn tight, had to be terrifying.
Though they filled the room with their sheer physicalpresence and Asmodeus filled it with his rage and fury, Ash needed only tostand there to fill it with menace.
They were an impressive sight, impressive enough to haveTempleton’s men suddenly shoulder their weapons.
Gabriel held a hand out to all of them warningly and put herother hand on her own weapon, her gaze on Templeton, who glared back at her indefiance. There was assessment in that look, his eyes narrowed as he lookedfrom Asmodeus to Ashtoreth to herself.
“You don’t want to do this,” she said to the men.
It was a standoff, she could sense it in the tension thatfilled both Asmodeus and Ashtoreth but they still had to get the answers theyneeded.
“Hello, Gordon,” she said, an echo of her first words to himfrom not so long before. “We would like to talk to you.”
“You should know,” Templeton said calmly, his eyes goingfrom one to another of them, “that my men are armed with silver bullets.”
Asmodeus eyed him. “A waste, Templeton. Silver has no more effecton us than any other metal, save iron.”
Which was the truth, just not all of it.
The truth was that whether made of steel, iron or silver,enough bullets in the right places would kill him and Ashtoreth just as dead asthey would any man.
It seemed wisest not to share that knowledge. If Templetonthought they were immune to such things, so much the better.
Their visit had been a calculated risk, to weigh what theyknew and what Templeton might know against what they did or he didn’t.
It was obvious Templeton wasn’t surprised to see them. Hehad expected that Asmodeus would survive the bomb. He had also learned therewere more Daemonae than he had known. More Daemonae to summon, more to trap ifhe could find and recover the Book of Demons with its spells and listsof names.
That was dangerous knowledge, the knowledge they had comefor.
It chilled Asmodeus to see that expression in Templeton’seyes, to see that knowledge in them.
Templeton’s power had somehow
