She felt Ryder’s hand on her hip as he moved beside her and hooked his fingers in her belt loops. He didn’t say anything to her, nor did she to him as they made their way down the twisting stairs. At this point she was grateful for the hand. She couldn’t see anything.
“I’ve got my shades on that help me see in the dark,” he finally said. “I figured you could use a hand.”
“Thanks.”
It felt good to have his body beside her. She hated that he had this effect on her, hated the way her body responded to his touch. Why couldn’t she be immune?
“We’re reaching the bottom now.” He whispered against her cheek, his breath warm and ruffling her hair.
She was melting, and despising her lack of resolve even more.
So when had she gone weak where men were concerned? She’d worked shoulder to shoulder with them for years and they never affected her.
She already knew the answer: It wasn’t men in general-it was Ryder. Why did the one man who had the power to stir her with a simple touch also have the power to eviscerate her with his words?
“Where the hell are we going?” Isabelle asked from behind her. “The freakin’ dungeon?”
Angelique was beginning to wonder that herself. It was cold, dark, and dank down here, but at least they’d reached the bottom of the stairs now.
“Yes, it’s a long way,” Michael said. “Sorry.”
There was more light down here, and at least she could see. They stood in front of a thick metal door wider than normal. A flat pad was mounted on a stand to the right of the door. It looked a lot like a computer monitor, but it was surrounded by blinking red lights. Michael laid his right palm on the pad, and it scanned his hand.
Several loud and heavy clicks later, the door swung to the inside. Light blinded Angelique as they stepped from ancient stone into a sterile-looking lablike atmosphere, all modern and high-tech.
“So it’s a dungeon and Fort Knox,” Isabelle mumbled over her shoulder.
“Seems that way.”
“Trust me. Security is essential,” Michael said, standing by the door and motioning them inside. “This is one of the Realm of Light operations centers. We create weaponry, do research, and generally do what we can to assist the field personnel, the hunters.”
It was extremely bright in the room from overhead fluorescent lighting. The place was like one huge cave-the size of a football field. And within it, people. A lot of them.
Desks were interspersed around the room, along with large tables where God only knows what was going on, but it was obviously tech oriented. There was weaponry of all kinds spread across tables and stored in locked cabinets, as well as ammunition, and beakers of bubbling liquid that put a chemistry lab to shame. A section in the back was filled ten feet high with books, almost like a minilibrary, and computers within a U-shaped desk area with over a dozen people tapping furiously at the keys.
The staff glanced up at all of them as they walked by, smiled and nodded, then resumed working.
Angelique had no clue what was on those screens, since it looked all sci-fi to her. Everywhere in the room there was something fascinating going on. And things beyond her ability to understand.
“Who works here?” Isabelle asked.
“Scientists, weapons experts, former military personnel, religious and other researchers. You name it, they work for the Realm of Light,” Michael explained.
“How many compounds like this are there?” Ryder asked, his attention focused on the weapons tables.
“Throughout the world we have about. . twenty right now.”
“And how do you fund all this?” Angelique couldn’t begin to fathom the cost of maintaining compounds that housed this much staff, as well as the research they did. Especially creating the futuristic weaponry she’d seen in action. Not to mention sending demon hunters all over the world to fight.
“The Realm is well funded. Always has been. Money is never an issue.”
Well, that was a vague answer. But she supposed she didn’t need to know where the money came from.
“Trust me, Angelique, our resources come from legal means,” Michael assured her.
“I didn’t think otherwise.” Somebody, somewhere, was loaded. That much was certain. Because it took millions, possibly billions, to keep twenty operations like this running.
“So what kind of safety features do you have here? Are we protected from demon attacks?” Angelique asked, mainly for Isabelle’s benefit.
“Yes. This is hallowed ground because the castle contains the ruins of an ancient church. The facility down here actually houses religious, consecrated artifacts, though they’re underground and beneath this room in order to offer protection against a demon attack. The demons will not touch foot on sacred ground. In addition, our security here is massive.”
“I’ve seen demons materialize out of thin air, Michael,” Angelique said. “I don’t think deep underground tunnels or thick walls will keep them out.”
Michael smiled. “No, that’s true enough. But the sanctity of our grounds will. The damned don’t walk the holy places.”
Angelique had guessed that much, which was why she was hoping the black diamond remained safe.
“So in other words, this would be a safe place to test the power of the black diamond in close proximity to Angelique and Isabelle,” Mandy said with an I-told-you-so smirk on her face.
“You don’t realize the power within the black diamond,” Michael said.
“Are you saying the Realm can’t handle it?” she challenged.
“Honestly? I’m not sure.”
“Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”
“Because I’m trying not to scare our guests who don’t work for the Realm,” Michael replied, his meaning obvious.
And that silenced Mandy. She didn’t say a word, just turned and walked away, wandering among the tables to talk to the weapons experts.
“You don’t know what might happen if we’re in contact with the black diamond?” Isabelle asked.
“No, I don’t. But I’m hoping nothing will happen.”
“Like with me in Australia,” Angelique said.
Michael nodded.
“So there’s a chance the same thing will happen with me. I’ll touch it and. . nothing.”
The look of hope on Izzy’s face squeezed Angelique’s heart. She wanted that to be the case, for her sister’s sake. She wanted there to be nothing in common between the black diamond and her sister.
But call it a sixth sense, or a weird case of foreboding, but Angelique felt that wasn’t what was going to happen. To have the black diamond here at the compound, in a controlled environment when Isabelle touched it, would give her some measure of comfort.
And at least they’d know then.
“Are we going to get it?” Mandy asked, rocking on the balls of her feet.
“You should learn patience,” Michael said.