Page 81 of Helsing: Demon Slayer
“Playtime is over,” she said. “The wolves are at the gate.”
Then she slammed the door and got in. Ryan dropped into the seat next to Dianne, barely acknowledging her before he turned to the window next to him, the Disrupter resting against his chest as he looked out at the moonless night.
Somewhere in the near distance, a wolf howled, long and low. Deliberate. The sound slithered through the night, twisting in the air, echoing eerily as if seeping into the fabric of the landscape. Then came the unholy chorus, answering from all directions, sending chills down Dianne’s back.
She exhaled slowly and gripped the Glock, her fingers tightening around the smooth polymer. She resisted the urge to check the magazine even though she knew it was loaded. She should have killed him—the king of the dire wolves. That bullet in his brain should have been enough. And yet, the howls told a different story.
And then András, his jaw tight, put the Land Cruiser in drive and headed for the Aerie.
Playtime was over indeed.
Twenty-Three
Ryanclenchedhisjawagainst the need to keep checking on Dianne, who sat next to him in the backseat of the Land Cruiser, looking for the world like one of his team members. Despite wet hair clinging to her face and soaking clothes, her alert posture and keen gaze took in the night outside her window. In her hand, she held the Glock in a practiced, comfortable grip. Something told him that she intended to fight. He wanted her safe, secure—in a bunker somewhere far from Abaddon and his insect-like goons. But he also wanted her at his side where he could protect her, with ammo and with harmonics. He wasn’t sure that he’d get either.
“You need a Disrupter,” he said, his voice gruff. “Or better yet, a long gun. I’d prefer to have you on overwatch because it sounds like the dire wolves brought friends.”
She looked at him, blue eyes gleaming in the SUV’s dim interior. Her expression gave nothing away. “Happy to oblige, though Draka didn’t spend a lot of time teaching me more than the basics.”
Beta glanced back at Ryan. “Mybasics” was all she said before turning back to the front.
Ryan made a decision. “You’re with Draka then. She’s your team leader for the time being.” He kept his gaze on Dianne, but he saw Beta’s nod from his peripheral vision. He released a breath he didn’t know he held. He hadn’t been sure theElioudwarrior would accept his command.
They rode on in silence, the dire wolves’ howls having faded away after they passed through the gate to the Aerie compound, where overhead drones illuminated coordinated movement as Stasio Kos’s mellifluous voice resonated through the space, guiding them. Besides the Kastrioti security personnel, most of Fushë-Arrëz’s inhabitants sought shelter within the compound’s defenses. The few that didn’t had already sought shelter at the Kastrioti estate, also fortified.
Ryan didn’t wait for András to bring the SUV to a full stop before he opened his door to jump out and sprint toward the ops center, resisting the almost-overwhelming urge to abandon his command—to make sure Dianne was safe himself.Beta had charge of her now, and she would do a far better job of keeping Dianne out of harm’s way than he could afford to.
The last view he had of Dianne before he entered the ops center was of her walking at the taller Beta’s side, the two women deep in discussion. As far as he could tell, Dianne respected Beta, but she didn’t fear her. That was something both unexpected and encouraging. Beta scared many of the recruits with her intensity and ferocity.
“That’s one brave woman,” said András, holding the door to the ops center open for Ryan. TheElioudhad shifted his harmonics, easily beating Ryan to the entrance. “She’s terrified, but she trusts you implicitly.”
Ryan didn’t want to talk about Dianne. Now was neither the time, nor the place. And he had a job to do. But András gripped his shoulder before he could move past the other man and into the building. Ryan halted and aimed a flinty stare at András.
András lifted his hand, palm up. “Hear me out, Helsing. This isn’t just about her. It’s about you, too.” His tone was quiet, measured—but the weight behind it pressed like iron. “You didn’t just claim her. You threw down a gauntlet to one of the most powerful Dark angels in creation. Your integrated harmonic signature may have fooled our sensors, but you won’t fool him. Now he has an added target:you.” András exhaled, steam curling into the chill night air. “If you fall, she falls with you. If he takes you, he takes her. This isn’t just love. It’sdaemonicwar.”
Terror gripped Ryan’s heart in its stony fist. He could accept laying down his life for Dianne—but not losing her in the process.
“What are my options?” he asked, the strain evident in his voice. “Because I wouldn’t break our bond if I could.”
“Understood, brother,” said András, as serious as Ryan had ever seen the giantElioud. “Stay off the battlefield. Keep her inside the harmonic defenses.”
Just then commotion drew their gazes to the broad, tree-lined quadrangle in the center of the compound. Elias and a contingent ofdonatsrode on horseback toward Ryan and András, Michael Markham, garbed in black Order tactical attire, among them.
Before Ryan could react, battle klaxons reverberated around the expansive quad, jarring the already discordant atmosphere. His Harmonic Tactical Synchronization system pulsed with incoming data—infrared heat signatures, directional resonance shifts, and angelic sonar echoes mapping enemy movement in spectral outlines.
But layered beneath the tactical readout, something else stirred—an instinctive recognition of the harmonics threading through the space. He no longer simply received battlefield data; he sensed it, the resonance patterns a silent rhythm threading through the clamor.
At the same time, a flood of additional tactical data from the ops center streamed into his system—unit positions, drone feeds, security-perimeter analytics. He scanned for Miles’s comm ID, expecting the steady presence of Aerie Actual, but the line was blank. He swore, low and virulently, recalibrating his priorities with brutal efficiency.
András, who had no need of the HTS that translated sensor data in Ryan’s tactical gear, vibrated on the edge of flaring, an instinctualElioudreaction to a threat.
“Go!” he said through clenched teeth, heat shimmering around him.
He didn’t wait for Ryan’s response. Instead, he pivoted and ran toward the next building where lurid green and black light pulsed above the roofline before a mass of Locusts surged over the edge. With a great leap, he collided with the foul beings, his angelic light exploding outward, illuminating the entire quad. Beneath him, thedonatsbegan chanting, their harmonious voices a solemn bulwark against the cacophony of war. The Gregorian tones, rich and unwavering, carved through the night like sacred thunder, threading through the tumult with an authority beyond the physical. The resonance did not merely fill the fortified quadrangle—it altered it, weaving a harmonic barrier that pulsed against the dissonance, anchoring those who fought within its grasp. Where shrieks and howls threatened to consume, the ancient cadence held firm, steady as a heartbeat in the storm.
Ryan wrenched around and ran through the spacious lobby of the ops center, cursing himself for ever seeing it as well-designed, and headed toward the corridor that took him to the main control room. A young lieutenant, who sat at the closest workstation, raised her gaze as he came to stand near her.
“Where’s Baxter?” he asked, ashamed at the hint of accusation in his voice.
