I flipped on the light that was clipped to my belt. We’d discovered a delightful mountaineering store with all sorts of wonderful gadgets, including belt lights, rope as strong as the rope made out of spidersilk, and other goodies. Roz had taken a buttload of money down there and gone wild a couple of months back, and now we had gear out the wazoo.

The passages were narrow in this area. I took the lead with Shamas and Menolly; behind us came Camille and Morio, then Smoky and Roz. Shade and Vanzir brought up the rear. We started down the passage, cautious not to touch the sides of the walls. There were viro-mortis slimes down here, and while the green variety was a nuisance, the purple could kill. Trouble was, neither was easy to see and clung to the walls just waiting for victims to put their hands, or any other body part, against the bricks.

I nervously glanced to the right and left, keeping an eye out for any ghosts. The shadows that hung out in Underground Seattle were dangerous and usually pissed off. Glancing over my shoulder, I said, “Camille, can you or Morio sense any supernatural activity here?”

We paused while she, Morio, and Shade lowered themselves into trance. After a moment, Shade’s eyes flew open.

“Incoming behind us! Something, though I’m not sure what. It’s from the Netherworld, all right.”

We turned just in time to see a woman come running toward us. She was translucent, a look of horror splashed across her face. She looked like she was screaming, but no sound came out of her mouth and she raced through us—a cold breeze rattling by as she ran on ahead. Suddenly, she stopped, turned, and flailed. It looked like something had grabbed her around the waist and tossed her over its shoulder, though we couldn’t see what was carrying her. The girl reached out, a knife in her hand, and slit her own throat. As the blood began to pour, she faded from view.

“What the fuck was that?” I was still cold from her passing through us.

“I don’t know,” Shamas said. “But let’s go look where she disappeared.”

We stopped where she’d faded, and I knelt down, aiming my light toward the ground. There, on the bricks, was the stain of dried blood. It didn’t look terribly old, either. I glanced around. Off to one side, something caught my eye. A knife—it looked like the one that the girl had been holding.

“Well, we know she was real. And that her spirit hasn’t rested.” There was an alcove near me, and something was sticking out of it. I peeked in, cautiously, just in case it was a bloatworgle or something equally noxious. But it was a body, probably dead for around three weeks. And it was our girl.

I leaned down to examine her. “I wish we had a corpse talker with us. She hasn’t moved on, she’s still here.”

Shade looked over my shoulder. “She was a Were. I can see her astral form still around the body. A werewolf.”

“Crap. But they don’t capture female werewolves for Wolf Briar.” I shook my head. “I have no idea what they were doing with her, but I’ll bet you anything that she was kidnapped by Van and Jaycee for some reason. Maybe prostitution, maybe just to have a little…fun…”

“We can’t do anything for her. See if she had any ID—that way we can let her family know—and let’s get moving.” Morio turned to Camille. “Let’s prep a protection spell for the group.”

While they prepared their spell, I gingerly hunted through her pockets and found a wallet—it was a small clutch, with a checkbook in it. I eased it out of her skirt pocket, wincing as I tried to avoid the decomposing flesh. Opening the purse, I glanced at the name on the checking account. Clarah Rollings. I flipped through the contents of the wallet.

Thirty-two dollars in small bills. Fifty-seven cents. A picture of Clarah—I thought it had to be Clarah by the spirit we’d seen—hugging another girl who looked a lot like her. Maybe a younger sister. They looked so happy it made my gut hurt. And—a driver’s license. Clarah Rollings, all right. I tucked the license, the money, and the picture in my pocket. The gods willing, we’d at least have these things to give back to her family. And we could come back to pick up her body when we were done with the bar.

“That’s all we can do here. Let’s move.”

Re-forming ranks, we headed down the passage. As we neared the area leading into the tunnels directly below the club, we came to a wall stretching across the passage.

“Looks like somebody decided they wanted some private space.” Shamas moved forward, looking at the wall, but not touching it. He motioned to Morio, who joined him. “Can you find any traps, or maybe, the entrance?”

Morio examined the bricks. “The trigger to open the secret entrance is down here, but I think there’s something…stand back.” He moved to the side and held out his hands. With a soft whisper, he flexed his fingers as pale blue light began to emanate from them. It clung to the wall, creeping across the bricks like a misty cloud. As it reached the central point in the wall, a crackle of sparks raced through the fog, and the scent of sulfur filled the air.

After the light cleared, Morio examined the wall again. “It’s clear now.” He reached down and a soft click sounded. An entrance appeared as a secret door swung open.

“We’re in,” he said, moving back to his place beside Camille.

Shamas and I took the sides of the doors. We peeked around the corner, and—surprisingly—saw a string of dim lights running along the artificially lowered ceiling. The passage was empty, and so we cautiously entered. I motioned for Vanzir to close the door behind him.

“They could have built a level between the basement of the club and where we are.” I kept my voice low, just in case the place was bugged, or in case somebody came down from above.

“Want to make a bet it’s not a pleasure palace?” Camille muttered. “Okay, we head up the ladder. While we’re climbing, Morio and I won’t be able to cast a spell, but we have a protection charm prepped and we can cast it now. It should give us protection unless someone interferes. If we’re attacked, it will break since we can’t concentrate on it while we’re on the ladder, but there will be a few seconds lead time.” She shrugged, smiling grimly. “Some protection is better than nothing.”

We all nodded.

“What do you need us to do?”

Camille motioned for us to stand at an arm’s length apart. “It’s simple, just close your eyes until we tell you to open them.”

As Morio moved in back of us, Camille took the front. They moved as a pair, arms out, down the line, energy racing around us, from Morio’s hands to Camille’s, and back again, creating a circle. I closed my eyes, but the crackle of magic was unnerving. I could feel it tingle as it slid over my body, into my lungs.

They began to singsong back and forth in a counterpoint, low chanting on the currents of air, but powerful enough to make my skin crawl.

“Spirits of water, spirits of earth…” Camille’s voice was rich, like sloe gin, throaty and warm.

“To our spell come forth, give birth…” Morio echoed back at her, soft-spoken and smooth.

“Spirits of fire, spirits of air…”

“To all unwelcome, beware, beware…”

“Spirits of the Netherworld take heed…”

“Hear us in our hour of need…”

“Circle ’round, protect, defend…”

“Until this spell breaks and ends…”

The passage seemed to take a deep breath, and then Camille asked us to open our eyes. We couldn’t see any difference, but the feel of magic was there, saturating the air. Shamas’s eyes were bright, sparkling, and he stared at them, his expression flickering between envy and admiration.

“We’re ready. Let’s go.” Camille stepped back into place, as I motioned for Menolly to take over the lead, followed by me, then Shamas, and then the others in order. Menolly would be the least vulnerable if somebody was waiting up top.

The rungs led into a narrow vertical passage. As we climbed, I saw that there was, indeed, a second level before reaching the street. As I stepped onto the landing that led to a metal door next to the rungs continuing up, Menolly had her ear pressed against the steel, trying to catch any sound coming from within.

“All I can hear is a shuffling behind the door.”

Once we were all crowded on the landing, I checked the lock while Shamas held a light on it. Easy to pick—obviously they didn’t think anybody would be coming through their barricade below. I pulled out the set of lock picks I carried around everywhere I went, and within seconds I had shimmied the pins. With a soft click, the door opened. Holding my breath, I pushed it open and Shamas and I slammed through.

The room was long and wide, lined on both sides with cages. Three held prisoners—men, manacled to the walls. They were in pain, and two were frothing at the mouth. There was no doubt in my mind they were werewolves. When they saw us, they rattled their chains and tried to lunge forward, but the manacles only gave them a lead of a few inches from the wall.

“Crap. We have to shut them up so nobody hears them.” As I scanned the rest of the room, I was relieved to see nobody else around. Shade made sure the door was shut behind us and leaned against it, just in case someone tried to come in.

“Leave it to me.” Roz pulled out three quarter-sized black balls with a wick on each end, and a lighter. He lit the wick on the first and sent it skidding toward the first werewolf. A small puff of smoke rose up from the smoldering bomb and then a pop as a shower of sparks set off the spell. The man let out a sharp cry, then slumped, unconscious. Roz moved to the next cell, and then the third. “That’s all I have of those—they’re pricey, but we can look around in peace now.”

As we ransacked the room, Camille let out a little cry. She was at the very back, and she motioned us over. “I found their dissection table.” A queasy expression crossed her face, and though I didn’t want to see it, I looked.

We’d seen this before, when we were dealing with Van and Jaycee the first time. The table was more like a long sink—seven feet long—set into a stainless steel counter. It was a good ten inches deep, and drains on either end led down to pipes below the fount. A faucet with a sprayer attachment was fixed to the center of the drain board. The sink was porcelain, and heavy reddish-brown stains spotted the length of it.

“Wolf Briar. This is their setup. But how do they dispose of the bodies?” I looked around. There was a cloaked-off section to the right. I hoped to hell we wouldn’t find a special surprise like a Tregart or two hiding behind the curtains. But as I pulled them back, what we did see was even more disturbing. There was a portal there. It was between two obsidian obelisks that were about four feet high, and it crackled with orange light.

“Where the hell does that lead? I don’t think I want to stick my head through to find out.” As I drew closer to the vortex, it sizzled and popped.

Shamas approached, motioning me back as he knelt near it. “I think I know.” He held out his hands, closed his eyes, and whispered something I couldn’t catch. After a moment he pulled away and turned around. “I was right. This portal leads to the elemental plane of fire. Ten to one, they shove the bodies through and take care of them that way. They just burn away in the heat.”

“Their version of a crematorium.” I stared at the portal. “Is there any way to close that down? It seems way too dangerous to leave open.”

Shamas nodded. “You’re right. It is dangerous. We do not need fire elementals running rogue over here, and believe me, they can come through. I can close it, but whoever opened it is going to know sooner or later. If they’re not focused on something else, they’ll feel the spell break, because this isn’t a naturally occurring vortex.”

“Do it. The minute you’re done, we’ll head topside and take out the club. And…crap…what about the werewolves? We can’t just leave them. Somebody might decide to come down and slit their throats to keep them from talking, or out of spite.”

Smoky shrugged. “Rozurial and I can take them through the Ionyc Seas. We’ll take them to the FH-CSI—the medic unit can take care of them.”

“Good thinking. Shamas, while you close that, we’ll get the guys out of here.”

I started to pick the locks on the cells, but Menolly motioned me aside and just broke the lock by yanking open the door. She bent the chain link, tearing the manacles from the wall. Smoky gathered up two of the men. Roz took hold of the third, and they vanished from sight.

“One of these days, I expect one of them to overshoot and end up in the middle of Puget Sound,” Camille said, attempting a smile. “How’s Shamas doing with the vortex? I’ve a good mind to go check on him.”

“I wouldn’t.” Morio grabbed her arm. “If he’s still working on closing the thing, and you disturb him, it might get ugly. That’s pure flame—the core essence of fire. And the last thing we need is a rush of energy to come flowing through to light everything ablaze.”

She acquiesced. “You have a point—oh, here he comes.”

Shamas hurried over. “Closed, but whoever built it was one fucking powerful sorcerer. Telazhar?”

“Telazhar is a necromancer, not a sorcerer.” I scratched my head. “Jaycee…I don’t think so. But Van…I’ll bet you Van opened it up. I had the feeling he was the more powerful of the pair.”

“Well, whoever it was did a damned good job of warding it, and you can guarantee he knows it’s been shut down. So we’d better get up to that club now.” Shamas grabbed my hand and started leading me back to the door. Just then Smoky and Roz reappeared.