bar fights, even mortal combat down in the main pit, was nothing more than a floor show - and the spec tators would applaud the victor and eat the scraps when it was done. Therefore, for the moment, Carlos took a gamble that they could press for answers without causing a complete riot.
As soon as the bartender leaned over his drink and licked his lips at Carlos, offering him an Ecstasy-laced joint, Carlos snatched him over the bar hard and punched him in the face, breaking off a fang.
"You got something else to say after my boy told you to back the fuck up and stop sweatin' me?" Carlos had placed a 9mm at the bartender's temple so quickly that he couldn't mist out of his grasp.
The bartender put both hands up in front of his chest, his nervous, red glowing eyes darting between Carlos and eight menacing pairs of Guardian eyes. "Hey, hey, hey, you gen tlemen never said she'd sent you just for her bed and her dinner - we didn't know."
"So, where is that slimy bitch, anyway?" Carlos said, his lips curling into a snarl as battlelength fangs began to lower.
"She went below to give her husband his due," the bartender said, swallowing hard as his eyes went to half-mast. "Damn, I see why she sent for you, though ... are you sure you don't want anything, sir, until, she uh, returns?"
Fury tightened Carlos's grasp on the bartender's throat as he hurled him back against the glasses, breaking several bottles and shelves. "Get that motherfucker out of my face," he muttered and spun toward his team. "She ain't here Damn!"
"Fallon ain't either," Jose said, glancing around at the ap preciative vampire gazes as phantoms slipped between succubae and incubi, whispering. "So, brother?"
"Let's leave a calling card," Carlos said in a low, lethal voice. "Like right about now." Weapons came from under coats, double-handed firing in an automatic spray. Hallowedearth shells whizzed by like tracers, burning the very air as they met targets to incinerate. Guards from the upper levels hurled down to the floor as sulfur rose and screaming demons unprepared for the on slaught took cover, some dying in their mating frenzy only to look up at the last moment. Bat-winged Hell dogs swooped off the ledges bearing aciddripping fangs, their twelve glow ing eyes roving the floor with rage while their razorsharp spaded tails lashed wildly in the air. Mike dropped to one knee and pulled the compact shoul der launcher out of his coat, mounted it on his burly sinew, shoved in a shell from a hidden coat pocket, aimed, and fired. The splatter and cinders from one airborne pit bull ignited an other that accidentally flew through its path. Rider had gotten four bouncers in a single shell shot right through their heads with his right hand while firing the Gatling gun with his left.
Dan mowed down anything moving behind the bar and then advanced on the gaming tables. Jose was his tandem street sweeper with a snub-nosed pumping dead-aim, serving chest blasts into high-roller demons and splattering the gam ing tables' green felt. J.L. had run up the side of a cavern wall and balanced on a precipice in a Ninja move on the edges of his toes to draw a flock of Harpies to him. Blue-arc tactical charge held him in place as he lifted his weapons and took steady aim. As soon as they got within range J.L. released a hail of bullets from an assault rifle, dropping burning bodies, then pivoted off the cliff edge to land on his feet with Bobby covering him.
Berkfield had run into the teaming throng of an orgy, nulled the pins on two grenades with his teeth, hurled them, and dove for safety behind a bar. But a were-demon looked up at the same time he did. In two seconds, Berkfield had drawn and blown the back of the demon's skull off. Bobby was over the bar in a blink, and reached down to yank his fa
ther up. They stood back-to-back, firing at anything coming their way, blowing demon guts out and spattering gook everywhere.
Carlos flung his spent weapons to Big Mike and Rider, his goal now to run deep into the cavern, headed for Lilith's shrine - her bed. The outer area was like her foyer; he had to go in deep to make an impact in her house.
Hand-to-hand combat brought him surreal pleasure. All the shit they'd taken him through