Immortals After Dark 10 - Demon From the Dark

constantly; apparently, he hated to be touched, had once clocked an orderly who'd made the mistake of tapping his shoulder.
    That would explain the gloves.
    She almost felt a shred of pity for him, until he grated, "And the witch believes she's better than they are."
    And the witch is talking to a madman. "Okay, clearly you two are beyond rational debate, so let's just get to it. Why did you take me?"
    Dixon answered, "Our aim is not only to study you, but to conceal your existence. Most immortals fly under the radar. You flaunt your powers in front of humans."
    Carrow had been repeatedly chastised by her coven for this. But, as she'd often argued, she never used her powers around sober humans. "So why'd you bring me here tonight?"
    "You're going to help us capture a vampiric demon, a male named Malkom Slaine."
    Heh. Twenty large says I'm not. "A vemon? You really think they exist?" she asked innocently. Vemons had been thought an impossibility, a "true myth"-- oxymoron, hello? --until one had been unleashed on New Orleans last year.
    Unimaginably strong, he'd defeated several fierce Valkyrie, who'd survived only by chance. He'd barely been destroyed by the powerful Lykae king, and only because he'd been threatening the werewolf's mate.
    "They're rare, but we have knowledge of one's existence," Dixon said. "You'll seek out this male, then lead him to us."
    "You want me to go out and coax some poor sap to his death?"
    "We don't intend to kill him," she said. "We want to discover his weaknesses--"
    "And how he was made, huh?"
    Dixon held up her palms. "We are interested in the anomalous beings among the Lore."
    Anomalous. What a mild way of putting it.
    "He lives in Oblivion, a demon hell plane."
    The demon planes weren't parallel universes, but self-contained, hidden territories with their own climates, cultures, and demonarchies. Most of their societies were feudal and old-fashioned. Not exactly hotbeds of technology--or, say, women's liberties.
    "I've heard of it," Carrow said. A wasteland once used as a gulag for Lore criminals, Oblivion was the former home of the Trothan Demonarchy. Before the vampires overthrew their royal line.
    "We've been able to compile information about your target, taken from detained Trothan demons."
    Carrow raised her brows. "You torture them to spill the beans?"
    "They volunteered the details gladly. He's reviled among his kind, a bogeyman of sorts. You'll like him no better. He is illiterate, filthy, and brutish. Mentally, he is severely disturbed."
    "You're calling someone 'severely disturbed' with this dude in the room?" Carrow hiked a thumb at Chase. The tension in his shoulders and neck ratcheted up, if that was possible. "You know, Dix, you're not exactly selling me on this."
    Dixon pursed her lips. "To succeed, you will need to know exactly what you're up against."
    "Why me?"
    "You're from the enchantress caste of witches, and you're attractive. The males on that plane have probably never seen a female like you."
    "That plane? Honey, try this universe. Oh, and easily this room ."
    "We have your history as well," Dixon snapped, losing patience with her. "In your forty-nine years of life, you've routinely done things that are very brave--and very stupid. This should suit you perfectly."
    No argument there. And she'd only grown bolder since she'd become fully immortal twenty-three years before. "Why can't you go and get him yourselves?"
    "He's sequestered in deep mines within a mountain and has choked the few passes with traps. He guards his domain ruthlessly. If we can't take him out, we can lead him out."
    With her playing the part of Delilah? Don't think so. "As much as I appreciate the invitation to help out with your vemon-retrieval problem, I'm afraid I'm going to have to R.S.V.F.U."
    Over his shoulder, Chase said, "Is that your final decision?"
    "Yep. Even if I wanted to help you, I'm not special-ops--I'm front line." She was a general among her kind, leading armies of spellcasters. "So if you've got some urban warfare, we can talk. But not so much with the tromping around on a mountain in a hell plane." Carrow loathed the outdoors, Gulf Coast beaches excepted.
    Chase said, "We thought you might be misguided in this." Were his pupils dilated? "I have something that will give you perspective." He crossed to an intercom panel on the wall, pressing a button beside it.
    That concealed panel door slid open once more, and Fegley walked in. He had his arms full--with a young girl,