“Excuse me?” Paige snapped.
Regarding her with the minimal amount of effort required to move his eyes and form a scowl, the old man said, “My work must be allowed to continue.”
“Let her go and we’ll talk about it,” Cole said.
In the hallway, glass shattered and the Mud People flopped in through the remains of the mirror.
“You know what I want, bitch,” Lancroft said through clenched teeth. When his grip around Shae’s neck tightened, she closed her eyes and hummed a strangely beautiful tune. Less than a second after that sound drifted through the room, the beads hanging behind her started to glow.
It was then that Cole could see the designs scrawled upon every surface of the room. The ornate symbols looked as if they’d been scrawled by an artistic wild man. They also bore a striking resemblance to the markings he and Paige had found along the base of the outside of the club. Whatever they were, they pulsed with energy that he could feel rippling through his feet like ghostly fingers interrupting a body of smoke.
“You can’t have her!” Tristan said as she lunged forward to grab Shae’s arm.
Seizing the opportunity, Shae pulled away from the bearded man. When he tried to reclaim her, she spat a sound at him that caused a few of the symbols at his feet to spark like a shorted electrical outlet. And when Lancroft looked down at the spark, all three Skinners rushed him. Cole was closest, so he moved in first with an upward diagonal strike meant to knock the bladed staff from the bearded man’s grasp.
Lancroft moved with impressive speed. He spun the staff in a tight circle, batted away Cole’s attack, and had enough time to take a quick stab at Rico that would have sliced between his ribs if it hadn’t been stopped by one of the leather sections of Rico’s jacket. The elongated blade stuck into Half Breed leather and just started to cut through before Rico dropped an arm over the weapon and shifted his weight in an attempt to pull it away from Lancroft.
Once Rico moved to the side, Paige stepped in to swing her machete at the bearded man’s shoulder. Lancroft dropped to one knee and cracked the other end of his staff against her wrist. The wood creaked as blood dripped from his palms, and a pair of thin branches snaked out to ensnare Paige’s hand. When Rico tried once again to disarm the old man, the staff withered down to a single root that Lancroft easily pulled away.
Rather than focus on the weapon, Cole went straight to the source. He waited for Lancroft to look at one of the others before extending his arms so his spearhead was pressed against the bearded man’s throat just beneath his chin. “Whatever you’re doing,” he warned, “stop it.”
Lancroft froze but didn’t seem alarmed. “You’ve made mistakes and been misled, but you’re still Skinners. I’ve made you what you are, so I’m willing to see you through these confusing times.”
“Funny how you wanna talk now that you’re about to get dropped,” Rico said.
With a simple clench of his fists, the old man willed the branches holding Paige to become sharper than razor wire and align with the arteries in her wrist. The other end of his weapon stretched into a single point that curled up to place a spike directly against Rico’s jugular. “Do what I asked,” the old man calmly said to the women huddled in the far corner, “or I’ll kill all three of them.”
Cole pressed his spear against the old man’s neck. “Not before I give you an instant tracheotomy!”
Shaking his head so his beard brushed against spear, he said, “I’ve lived since this country was a New World, and have fought terrors that your generation of so-called hunters have dismissed as legend. I won’t allow you to threaten me one…more…time.”
And then Tristan started to sing.
She gave voice to a single tone that echoed within the room and through all of the looping symbols carved around her. When Shae lent her voice to the song, the symbols emitted a pulse of wispy green light that bent toward the curtain of beads, to be absorbed by them.
Showing his approval with a single nod, the old man took a step back and was gone.
The beads clattered against each other, shimmering with energy that flowed out to every symbol etched into the walls.
“What happened?” Paige asked. Her wrists were cut, but only in shallow slices that the razor-wire branches had left behind. Cole stood with his spear pointing at the beads, and Rico wasn’t quite ready to lower his chin after the living barb had come so close to impaling his neck. Turning to Tristan, Paige pointed her weapons at the nymph as if she was ready to swing at any target she could find. “What did you do? Where is he?”
“Gone,” Tristan sighed.
“What the hell is this place? What happened to that son of a bitch?”
“He was sent away,” Tristan replied. “It’s an ancient ritual that allows us to cross from one temple to another.”
“Why did you give in like that? We almost—”
“You were almost killed,” Tristan interrupted. “And if you somehow found a way to hurt that man before he murdered at least two of you, Henry would have found a way to kill my sisters who are still being held captive.”
“Then send us to wherever you sent him.”
The nymph shook her head. “I can’t. It takes energies that need to be replenished.”
“Replenish them!”
Tristan placed a hand upon Shae’s back and rubbed it soothingly. “It will take time. Go and rest. Come back tomorrow night and I can try to—”
“I don’t want to hear try,” Paige snapped. “Do what you’ve got to do and then—”
“Ease it back, Bloodhound,” Rico said warily. “None of us are about to step into some damn radioactive beads before I know what the hell they are. Are those people outside still gonna knock this wall down?”
Placing her eye to a spot on the wall, Kate shook her head and replied, “The ones in the hall are curled up and…puking. Gross.”
“Let’s see what can be done for these folks,” Rico continued. “You and Cole go rest up. I’ll stay here and have a chat with these fine ladies because I sure ain’t leaving before I know how that disappearing thing worked.”
Paige let out a sigh as the adrenaline slowed its pace through her veins and the battering she’d taken over the last few minutes had a chance to seep in. “How long is it going to take to charge your batteries?”
Tristan touched a symbol that caused the door to swing open much smoother than when she’d activated the devices to get in. “I’d say twenty-four hours. That is, if we still have a place to conduct our business.”
Cole stepped into the hall and found several people doubled over on the floor or leaning against a wall. Turning toward the bead room, he groaned. “Smells like a swamp exploded out here.”
The door at the other end of the hall was pulled open and Blake staggered out. “Cops are on their way. One of the first bunch to bolt outta here must’ve called them.”
Paige sighed. “You’d better call an ambulance too,” she said. “Now that Henry’s gone, most of these people should be all right, but we can’t just send them home.”
“You’ve seen this shit before?” the bouncer gasped.
“Yep. You don’t want to know about the details, and,” she stressed pointedly, “neither do the cops.”
“Hell no, I don’t wanna know the details,” Blake said. “What the hell do we do with all these people?”
“When the cops and ambulances get here, tell them the truth,” Cole said. “That they were infected with the Mud Flu. It’s not like you’ll be able to hide that part.”
Although none of the Skinners could translate Christov’s native language, the ferocity in his words made it clear he was ready to eat his own shotgun.