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  Jasper grabbed for the man’s right hand with his left. As Jasper’s fingers brushed the kneeling man’s, his right shoulder dipped as if he was going to roll. Jasper drove his left leg forward and into the man’s back, sending him face first into the dirt.

  Drops of rain hit, a few here and there, creating divots in the soft dirt, rapidly followed up by a steadier fall.

  “Don’t move,” Temple said. She moved to the man’s right, but still at an angle to Jasper. “Put your hands at the small of your back. Do it, now!”

  This actually made Jasper’s handcuffing more difficult—when a subject was proned out, the usual procedure was to have them make like an airplane and raise the arms off the ground, palms up, and at the same time have them look away from the person handcuffing. Temple used the Bureau procedure for a standing or kneeling subject. Jasper would make do, but the last thing he wanted was for this man to go into ground fighting mode. They didn’t have the time to waste on this lackey.

  The man obeyed. Muddy water formed around his prone body. Jasper dropped to the mud and rammed his knees into the man’s side. He grabbed the man’s left hand and cuffed, and quickly cinched the free cuff down on the right wrist. He grabbed the man’s left elbow and rolled the man toward him on his side and checked the waistband area for hidden keys, weapons, or contraband. He pushed the man back down into the mud and checked the waistband at the sides and back as he had for the front.

  “Okay,” Jasper rolled the man on his side once more, “now, I’m going to sit you up. When I do, you’ll tuck a leg in and I’m going to push you forward and you’ll stand up. Got it?”

  Rain pelted the man’s head and water dripped off Jasper’s forehead and into his eyes. At least this was summer and not a late fall rain. Jasper sat him up, the man tucked a leg and Jasper pushed him forward, all the while maintaining a grip on the handcuff chain. If the man struggled, Jasper would simply either yank up on the chain or if he wanted the man back down in the mud, would—

  The man tried to run. Jasper pushed down hard on the chain and drove his foot into the back of the man’s right knee. “That’s it. Get down on the ground and stay there.”

  “What are we going to do?” Temple asked. Her hair, usually so well-maintained, looked like a wet squid or octopus. Normally, Jasper would find the sight humorous, but not tonight. Not with this asshole being, well, an asshole.

  “Keep him here.” Jasper turned for the Charger. “Keep him proned out, but you’re going to have to step away quick when I punch it.”

  “What?” Temple’s voice screeched. “You can’t—”

  “Oh yeah? I’m tired of this and what’s one less cult asshole, anyway? Who’s gonna miss this jerkoff? You?”

  Temple kneeled in the mud and grabbed the handcuff chain. The man squirmed, but didn’t say anything.

  “He’s going to do it, you know,” Temple said, in a conversational, almost cheerful, tone of voice. Jasper slammed the Charger’s door and put down the window so he could hear the man and communicate with Temple. He revved the engine.

  Jasper nodded at Temple, who said to the squirming man, “I can’t stop him.”

  The sound of the Charger’s tire grinding rock and mud gave way to rubber spinning in mud. The man attempted a roll, but Temple kept a firm grip on him, holding him in place. The Charger lurched, and Jasper thought for a second his foot might slip off the brake, and well—

  “Oh, hell no,” Temple released the handcuff chain.

  “Wait!” the prone man yelled. “Wait.”

  “What?” Temple leaned forward.

  Jasper grinned. When would criminals stop falling for the good cop, bad cop routine? Ever?

  Temple stood on the left side of the muddied, prone man. Jasper released his foot from the brake and allowed the Charger another lurch, but far to the right of the man. The man curled into a ball as best as he could with his hands cuffed behind his back. Jasper laughed.

  Rain dripped in through the open window. Temple’s glare, normally of withering quality, looked downright silly with her soaked hair.

  He put the window up and got out. Together, he and Temple got the man situated in the back seat, and she slid in beside him to ensure he wouldn’t try anything else. Jasper glanced up the driveway, but didn’t see any taillights. Penny had never even looked back after crashing through the gate.

  As Jasper opened the Charger’s driver’s side door, three more trucks rumbled through the entrance and over the wreckage of the gate.

  “We’re of the Hammer!” one of the men yelled. “Where we headed?”

  “Follow us!” Jasper climbed into the Charger. He turned around and stared at their prisoner. “Where we headed?”

  Temple poked the cultist in the side with her Glock. “Well?”

  “Follow this road, when you reach a fork, head right,” the prisoner’s voice was flat, as were his eyes. The man seemed dead despite being alive.

  “You better not be misleading us.”

  The man chuckled, a hoarse staccato, chuckle. “You don’t stand a chance inside the building. In fact, I’m happy to lead you there. More sacrifices for the nâga, and in turn, we’ll be granted powers beyond your imagination.” He closed his eyes and smiled.

  “Whatever.” Jasper punched the accelerator. A glance in the rear-view mirror confirmed the mini-convoy was in effect with the trucks following close.

  Chapter 37

  Rao was pleased—so smug. Lali had never seen a man so pleased with himself. He was pleased with the quality of the evening’s sacrifices. Pleased with the weather and the purple skies. Pleased with his discovery of the new sacrificial site. And this weird-ass place, so perfect, what with all the metal present and a portal greater than the one at the Euclid Hotel he’d once shown her.

  The smug look hadn’t left his face since the blow against Völundr’s Hammer.

  Perfect. Lali turned from him and rolled her eyes.

  “Soon, Eulalia, soon,” Rao said. “The time is nearly upon us for the sacrifices to begin.”

  Rao’s khâu stood guard at the entrances to the building, as well as over the sacrifices—both part of a soon to be defunct Völundr’s Hammer. Rao wouldn’t have accomplished this without Lali. With members such as Carlos, she couldn’t believe the group ever truly threatened the Câ Tsang.

  “Tonight we’ll see the end of Völundr’s Hammer—the fools refuse to gorge on the power gifted by the nâga.”

  Lali bowed her head, but not far enough where she wouldn’t be able to keep the vile man in her field of vision. “Yes, Rao. The nâga will be pleased.”

  “And what do you understand of the nâga, woman?” Rao arched an eyebrow.

  “Nothing, I am yours, Rao.”

  Rain pelted the building’s roof, pinging in a rhythmic and soothing manner.

  “Rao must rest.”

  She straightened and watched as Rao eased on the bed and closed his eyes.

  This was a rare moment—Rao rarely reined in any of his urges. Lali climbed into bed next to him. Even in his most vulnerable moments such as on the borderland of sleep this man’s countenance remained menacing. And Lord knew sex never had a lasting effect on him.

  As if on cue he opened his eyes and glanced at her. He licked his lips—“Tonight I will drown in the otherworldly nectar, and soon you will taste the infinite power.”

  She dared a faint smile and a slow blink, showing her appreciation.

  The rain hit the metal roof harder, and with more urgent, rapid pings until the cacophony created steady white noise. Rao closed his eyes and in seconds his respiration slowed.

  A distant rumble hit Lali’s ears, but Rao’s eyes remained shut. She sat up, rustling the sheets.

  “Be still, woman,” Rao said, but remained on his back with his eyes shut.

  She said nothing, but a sense of foreboding crept along the edges of her thoughts.

  Footfalls clambered against the metal steps, but she couldn’t tell if they were far below, near the
sacrifices, or coming up to his perch. Now, Rao sat up and kicked free of the satin sheets. Lali acted as if she were reacting to his stirring, and ran her hands down his back, tracing the lines and scars crisscrossing there.

  “What is it?” Lali asked.

  “Quiet. Rao is soon to be informed.” Rao slid off the bed, pulling his robe with him. Rather than tie it, he let the garment hang open.

  The footfalls grew louder and higher pitched. A gasping man, one of the heavier khâu, reached the top and waited at the edge of Rao’s platform.

  “Why are you up here?” Rao placed his hands on his hips.

  “The gate—” the khâu heaved, bent over, and swallowed—“the front gate’s been breached.” The khâu addressed Rao while bent over and staring at the floor.

  “You will stand upright when addressing Rao.”

  The khâu grabbed the nearest rail and pushed himself up until his back nearly straightened, but not quite. He appeared on the verge of nausea and that, Lali had learned, would not do on Rao’s personal platform.

  “Pathetic.” Rao strolled toward the khâu, who tried standing at attention. “How was the gate breached, and by what?” Rao stood a head taller than this tubby mess of a man. He stared down at him, as if daring the khâu to look him in the eye.

  Lali slid off the satin sheets. Rao’s head twitched, but he remained focused on the khâu, but the khâu’s gaze followed Lali’s movements.

  Rao smacked the khâu on the cheek. The blow, though openhanded, was incredibly powerful. The man’s head swiveled almost impossibly around. The khâu fell, head smashing against the railing with a dull clang. Lali blinked. Rao stood over the khâu, whose eyes remained open, and mouth agape, twisted awkwardly—the man’s stupidity transcended death.

  “What have you done?” Lali ran up behind Rao.

  “Yes,” Rao stared at the dead khâu, “we needed him. The nâga needed their honey.”

  “What?”

  Rao spun on Lali, open hand raised—she flinched despite telling herself she wouldn’t show this monster weakness. The khâu was dead before his head hit the railing. Rao’s strength remained, even days after his last coupling with the other world, but it was obvious enough power still coursed through him.

  Rao laughed. His laugh was very high-pitched, and one that Lali never got used to. He gazed at his hand. “If only Rao possessed this power during his days in the military, so long ago, when Rao was but a mercenary performing ill work in ill countries and conditions. Imagine power such as this, Eulalia,” he clenched the open hand into a fist, “wreaking destruction upon the enemy.”

  “Rao, are you okay?”

  He licked his lips, as if anticipating an enormous feast. “We must prepare for the ceremony. The sacrifices.”

  “Excuse me,” Lali said and averted her gaze from his, remembering Rao’s rules, “did the khâu say something about the gate being breached?”

  “Yes,” Rao said, “but the breach is of no consequence. Soon the nâga, the greatest of nâga, will roam free, collecting bjang from the Sha ’Lu provided. All of the Sha ’Lu.”

  Lali scrunched her nose, thinking of what the words bjang and Sha ’Lu meant—honey which the nâga draw from the people sacrificed.

  Rao arched an eyebrow, and reached for the robe’s belt as a noticeable shiver worked up his legs and into his torso.

  “There are other sacrifices?” Lali backed away from him.

  “Yes.” Rao smiled, noticing the terror in her eyes, something she had hid from him for so long. “Good, everyone needs a dose of fear and terror from time to time. But not you, you are not to be sacrificed—you are khäp, an adept, and my second. You will share in the glory of the other side and understand what it is like to gä—cross over to the other side.”

  Lali licked her lips and swallowed with relief. She averted her gaze and turned her head as to not show him the shame replacing the terror of a moment earlier.

  “I need to get ready then.” She walked back toward the bed where her clothes lay in a pile at the foot and watched Rao as she dressed.

  Rao picked up a handheld radio on the desk he maintained on the platform and keyed the mike. What he said now would be broadcast to all the khâu in the building:

  “Report any suspicious activity. Any. A failure will result in serious punishment.” Rao tossed the radio on the desk and walked over to the recently deceased khâu.

  He kneeled, scooped up the overweight khâu into his arms and lifted him over his head. Well below the right side of the platform, on the bottommost level of the plant was a large vat with a thin layer of a nebulous liquid coating the bottom. “Behold your destruction if you fail me.” He heaved the khâu from the platform. The falling khâu’s limbs flailed like a rag doll. The descent happened in slow motion, but the man hit the liquid with a heavy slap and thud.

  “Prepare!” Rao’s word echoed off the metal roof, filling the open areas of the building, “Prepare for the sacrifice. Prepare for the coming of the nâga. Prepare for glory.” He spun back around, a wide smile spanned the width of his head. “Fear works well on the sheep of the world. You must accompany me as we tend to the Völundr’s Hammer sacrifices, and if all goes well, the nâga will find quite a feeding frenzy waiting.”

  “Yes, Rao.” Lali kept her gaze averted.

  “You may look me in the eyes, my khäp.” Rao stood before her and lifted her chin. “You are not simple. Not a mindless animal like most of my khâu.” Rao pointed at the platform’s decking, under which, and a few floors down, the khâu made the preparations and guarded for whatever penetrated the front gate.

  The rumble grew louder. The radio crackled. “A truck has pulled up to the main entrance, a lone woman within.” It clicked off. The main entrance was completely sealed off and provided no means of entry. The building’s true entrance lay cleverly concealed. Rao had overseen the construction when he bought the property after discovering the building rested on an ideal site for enticing the nâga through the membrane and allowing Rao entrance into their world.

  Rao laughed. “Let her come. It’s likely Stahlberg’s daughter, and now we’ll have both leaders of Völundr’s Hammer. I think she should be made to watch her father’s sacrifice. What do you think?”

  Lali shrugged. “The end result will be the same, but if she is here, I see the logic.”

  Rao grinned. Rather than respond on the radio to the reporting khâu, he dropped the robe, and dressed himself in the ceremonial garb he had saved for this occasion. He pulled on tight black breeches, adorned with vertically running strips of metal, covering stitched seams along the sides. He slipped into a crimson sleeveless tunic ringed with stainless steel up and down both the front and back. He opened a metal case the size of a jewelry box resting on a chest of drawers, withdrew a heavy linked chain and fastened the piece about his neck.

  “Why all the metal?” Lali approached him, her hand reaching for the chain. “What if the nâga confuse us for the sacrifices? The Sha ’Lu we’ve prepared?”

  Though Rao had assured her she’d not be sacrificed, Lali wasn’t sure if she believed him. What if the nâga went for her? Mangled her body as they’d mangled so many others?

  Rao reached into the metal case and withdrew another chain, but with smaller links and much lighter than his. “The nâga only like certain types of metal. But”—he draped the necklace across her chest and fastened it at the back of her neck—“this type of metal confuses them, turns them from us and toward the right sorts.”

  “But why? How do we know?”

  “You must have faith in Rao.”

  Which meant he didn’t understand how these weird metal-adorned necklaces worked.

  Metal on metal reverberated throughout the building.

  Rao went to the railing and peered down to where the main entrance once allowed entry—nothing amiss. However, all along the main level, khâu ran about in a disorganized manner.

  “It’s time for Rao to descend,” he said. “I trust you will us
e your newfound power for the good of the Câ Tsang.”

  Screeching metal, scraping and crunching filled the building, and withdrew. A long and loud rev caught Lali’s attention—

  A louder crunch and the crinkle of metal buckling drew her gaze to the site of the problem, which was not the fortified main entrance but one of the standard walls with little support.

  Another crash and the metal buckled in, exposing the inside of the building to the outside air—but the opening created was not big enough for anyone to squeeze through.

  “Silence!” Rao commanded.

  An engine on the other side of the wall sputtered and knocked. White smoke, or steam, depending on what had gone wrong with the vehicle, poured through the sliver of an opening the truck created. So much for that strategy.

  The rumble of other engines filled the night, taking the place of the lone truck’s dead engine. This wasn’t going to be quite as easy as Rao anticipated. Lali grinned.

  Chapter 38

  Temple squinted against the rain pelting the Charger’s windshield, and Jasper did the same.

  Lights flicked on—floodlights—from an enormous structure about a quarter mile ahead on the right. The sharp light reflected off the raindrops and despite Jasper setting the wipers on the highest speed, the weather impaired Temple’s vision.

  “That’s the building, I’m guessing?” Jasper glanced back at their prisoner and then brought his gaze forward again and took another peek in the rear-view mirror.

  “Yes. Head toward the light.”

  Temple poked the man hard in the gut—an oof puffed from him.

  Jasper chuckled. “Fine.”

  “Why don’t you watch where you’re going and get us to the building in one piece—sound good?” Temple tried to keep the edge out of her voice.

  “It won’t matter,” their prisoner said.

  “Oh? And why is that—uh, you have a name?” Temple twisted in her seat and stared at the man. “You know, other than useless cult member number five? That’s how you’d be listed in the movie credits when they make the film based on this shit.”