Munro (Immortals After Dark #18) by Kresley Cole

            A depiction of some kind of god?

            Carvings of other robed males covered a far wall. Robes. Warlocks. “We’re in . . . Quondam.”

            “Had to stop here.” Munro forced himself to his feet. When his massive frame nearly pitched forward, she resisted the urge to help him.

            Vanda had once told her that Quondam was a pocket realm within the mortal dimension yet completely separate from it. So Ren wasn’t even in the mortal world?

            Movement to her side. Blade raised, she pivoted toward the threat.

            A bald man in a black robe strolled from a nearby alcove. A warlock. She readied to strike.

            Despite her blade, he sidled closer to her. “Ah, the lovely Kereny. I am Ormlo, son of Jels,” he said, his tone full of self-importance. Munro had spoken of him. “We’ve met before.”

            “I’ve never seen you in my life, warlock.”

            Obvious interest burned in his gaze. “I could never mistake you. Or that blade.”

            “What are you talking about?” Who else possessed a knife like this?

            “You took out four of my men with that before my beam sucked the magic right from it.” Was he lying or crazed? Maybe everything that came out of this dimension was crazed. Including Munro. “I warned the werewolf about you and your hunters, but he was too eager to reach you to listen.”

            In the distance, howls and screams carried from what sounded like an underground labyrinth. “What is this place?”

            “You are in Quondam’s grand Temple of Time, the centerpiece of our vaunted realm.” He waved to a set of windows.

            Keeping him in her sightline, she hastened over and gazed out. This temple was in a mountain stronghold high in a tower. Fog circled the base like a collar. Above, a transparent dome stretched over the entire realm. Iridescent purple magic rippled across it.

            She was in a different world, the site of Munro’s imprisonment and torture. Why would he ever come back?

            Maybe that vassal spell still compelled him! He might have brought her here as a prisoner. Another warlockian slave.

            She peered at Ormlo, at the desire in his gaze. I’d rather die. She pointed her knife at him. “Power up the portal once more. I’m going back.”

            “Oh, there’s no way to return”—he gave a chilling laugh—“because you never left.” His palms began to glow. Could he actually suck the magic from her blade?

            As she backed away from him, the statue’s grotesque face drew her attention. Its many eyes appeared to stare at one thing. She followed its gaze to a raised altar far across the temple. Dead warlocks circled the altar’s blood-spattered base. They’d been slaughtered in what looked like a frenzy of violence. Heads missing. Intestines pouring from gored flesh.

            From this spot in the temple, Ren spied what lay atop the altar’s slab: a mutilated young female with a hole where her heart should be.





EIGHTEEN





            “Wolf, what is this?” Kereny had spotted Ariza’s body.

            Being back in this dimension made Munro half-crazed once more, his mind struggling to separate reality from hallucinations. His wounds weren’t helping. Head splitting. World spinning. Throat on fire. With difficulty, he said, “Warlocks sacrifice nymphs. I killed that lot of them around the altar for what they did.”

            Kereny looked to Ormlo, who shrugged, uncaring that his fellow warlocks had been slain. Clenching her knife, she turned toward the temple doors, looking like she was about to bolt.

            “Stay close. We’re leaving soon.” But not without his crew. To Ormlo, he said, “My men?”

            “I opened a portal to New Orleans and sent them through. I removed their vassals only after they were in the mortal realm, and right before I slammed the portal in their faces.”

            “Why no’ free them here?”

            “They would have killed me, which would have hurt your interests.”

             “Do nothing else without my direct order.” Munro ran a hand over his face. “Can the gateway be powered without a sacrifice?”