“Lana would be the funnest but final minutes of your life, boys. She ain’t worth it,” the Texan warned. I didn’t know if the soldiers spoke much English, but they got the message. “Focus on the job.”
“You’re no fun, Jim.”
“No, ma’am. I am not.”
The garage door rolled up and our convoy headed out. I had to resist the urge to start whistling the convoy song. That was all Milo’s fault. I’d have that stuck in my head for the rest of my life.
I didn’t know what time zone we were in—it was still dark out—but it felt like that really tired time of the night, close to sunrise, so we had to be a few hours ahead of Alabama. There was a clock on the dash, and it confirmed my guess. It said 4:45 A.M.
“Jim, is it?”
“You can call me Mr. Curtis.”
“What are daylight hours here?”
“About five-thirty to eighteen-thirty.” I’d figured him for former military. Earl had told me Unicorn’s human handlers were always recruited that way, sort of like my dad had been. “Why?”
“Nothing.” I was just trying to figure out what the window was before I had to worry about the Drekavac again. There was no way he was going to give up. Assuming my friends hadn’t removed him from the equation, he’d be back. I doubted he’d be able to get here and do anything before dawn. The window was too narrow and closing fast, but tomorrow night was a different story.
“He’s worried about the Drekavac,” Lana said. “Stricken didn’t tell you that he’s torn up his contract and he’s coming after us now. He took it personal.”
Curtis let out a frustrated sigh. “The boss doesn’t tell us anything.”
“That’s because you work for an asshole,” I said.
“Yeah, but unlike most of the assholes I’ve worked for over the years, Stricken actually does what needs doing.” He looked back over his shoulder at me. “And you’re here too. So I guess we’re both suckers.”
He had me there.
Stricken’s hideout was in a really bad part of town. The streets were narrow and disintegrating into dirt and potholes. The regular buildings were mismatched and rotting, and in every available space between, and even on top of them, had been built shacks slapped together out of whatever was available.
“Great neighborhood,” I said.
“We needed to set up at the nexus of some ley lines—those are like underground rivers of supernatural energy—in order to power the thing that brought you here. This favela was the only place in the region available that met our needs. The others were unavailable or had too many witnesses around.”
“There was another nexus that was next door to a five-star resort with a great dance club and some really nice restaurants,” Lana said, “but Stricken said that wasn’t clandestine enough. Oh, the sacrifices I make for you poor dumb humans.”
“That nexus was inside a church that’s still in use,” Curtis said. “You would have caught on fire the second you came through the portal.”
“Worth it. The resort has a very nice pool.”
“I think you’d stick out there,” I said.
“Of course I would. That’s the point.”
“I meant the wings and the fangs.”
“Not into that?” Lana laughed. “This is my fighting body. Give me a few minutes to change into something more comfortable and I can look like whatever you want. We could have some fun.”
My response was reflexive. “I’m married.”
“You have no idea how many times I’ve been told that over the centuries.” I felt her hand touch my thigh. “It never works.”
She had some kind of magic aura or was secreting pheromones or something that made her extra hot, but I smacked her hand off my leg. Only it turned out not to be her hand, but rather the end of her tail. “Knock it off. I’m here to stop a massacre. That’s the only reason I’m putting up with Stricken’s bullshit. I don’t have time for yours too. Keep your . . . appendages to yourself.”
“Too bad.” The succubus pouted, but she did swing her tail out of sight. “I was just trying to be friends. We’re the same. I was coerced into this little adventure against my will too. I had a good thing going until Franks screwed it up and I got dragged back into this life.”
“Tragic.” I concentrated on looking out the opposite window.
Shacks climbed up the hillsides around us with thickly wooded hills beyond them. It was so early there weren’t many people out, but there were some barefoot little kids and skinny stray dogs. It was nothing but graffiti and mud and razor-wire-topped chain link fences as far as the eye could see. We were going surprisingly fast considering how curvy and narrow the road was, but if we hit a pedestrian, Stricken would probably just toss some cash out the window and the cops would call it good. I’ve visited a lot of places around the world, but this was the biggest slum I’d ever seen.
“Bingo.” Curtis got on his radio. “I just saw a lookout on a roof watching us with binos. Could be the local drug lord’s people, or it could be the cultists.”
I couldn’t hear Stricken’s response, but it must have been to switch to an alternate route, because our lead SUV suddenly braked and turned. We followed it into an even narrower street.
“You expecting trouble?”
“Maybe. The Old Ones and Asag are fighting a shadow war here. I’d love to let them duke it out, but unfortunately, they’re doing it on Earth, and people are just collateral damage. But their worshippers don’t see it that way, and they’ll do anything to stop us from meddling in their affairs.”
Curtis had used his radio, which meant we were away from the jammer or they’d shut it off. I got out my phone to text my
