I nodded, leaned against the back of the bench, and then began. “That wasn’t a man that attacked you.” I watched eyebrows, the same color as her hair, hitch higher on her forehead. “That was a demon. Specifically, one of the Fallen.”
“What?” she interrupted. “Okay, I know I said anything, but you don’t have to make stuff up. I’m not a kid.”
“I’m not lying,” I said. An amused smirk pulled my lips to one side. Her protest was cute, and the way she looked at me let me know that she definitely did not believe me.
“Well, what would a demon want with me?”
She crossed her arms over her chest, another distraction for as ample as it was. She had an hourglass form that wasn’t in vogue in the human world these days, but I liked it. What I didn’t like was the challenge she presented me.
“Not you,” I answered. “The diamond.” I nodded toward the bag she had on the bench between us. “They want that. You just happen to be in the way, and they’ll kill you to get it.” I shrugged. “They’ll kill you anyway even if they took it from you easy. The fallen are assholes that way.”
I watched her take that in and was surprised to see that she didn’t just dismiss it this time. She needed to take this as seriously as I was, or I would not be enough to keep her alive long enough to get what I wanted.
And no, not that.
The diamond.
She tilted her head as she turned a suspicious look on me. “Why haven’t you killed me?” she asked with hesitation in her voice.
Good. She should be wary.
“Because I’m one of the good guys.” Before she could follow that up with a question I didn’t want to answer I gave her more information to chew on. “The fallen call that diamond The Ingress. King Solomon used it to open portals that summoned demons that he used to fight his wars, but it’s older than that.”
I took note that I had her interest again. She was a history buff, I could tell. She had to be if she was an archaeology intern. Her curiosity overrode her fear.
“Did you notice that it is exactly 666-carats?” I smiled as she nodded. “It originated in Hell, not on Earth. No one’s really sure how it got here, but it’s been used by a lot of mystics over the years. John Dee. Rasputin. Aleister Crowley.”
“Anton LaVey?” she offered.
I chuckled as I shook my head. “LaVey was a poser.” She was quick to have made the connection, even though it was wrong. That, more than her appearance, appealed to me.
Intelligence was very becoming. Now if she were as clever as she was smart, I would be a goner.
She seemed to have lost her fear of me. Maybe it was the fact that I hadn’t tried to kill her. Maybe it was because I hadn’t tried to take the diamond, which honestly would not have been possible without killing her. Maybe she was just stupid, but I knew better than that. Whatever the reason, she openly stared at me as if I were one of the museum’s acquisitions. It amused me but was also flattering. I told myself it was not my good looks that she studied. How her lips moved told me she was deep in thought, and my direction just happened to be convenient.
“What?” I asked to get her attention.
“What?” The blush that came to her cheeks was adorable. I held back the grin that wanted to come out.
“You’re staring,” I pointed out. This time I allowed the chuckle to escape me as she glared.
“How do you know all this?” Her blush remained, but she pushed on with what she had on her mind. “If what you’re saying is true, why was it in the box wrapped in silk and found in Canada? And seriously, demons?”
They were good questions, but still awkward for me. There were some things I didn’t want her to know. The explanation would take too long. Granted, the full truth would work in my favor, but there was a chance it could blow up in my face. Fortunately, I was quick and it was old hat dodging subjects I didn’t want to talk about.
“I’ve made it my life’s work to study cursed objects.” It was the truth. The reason for it was left out. She didn’t need to know why. I pointed a calloused finger at her bag to keep her focused on the diamond and not me. “Whoever hid it wrapped it in ancient spells and wards to hide it from infernal attention. And yes, demons. Or, rather, the Fallen. There’s a difference.” I tapped the handle of her bag. “If they get their hands on that they could open a portal that would allow the rest of them to come through. They’d take over the Earth in under a day.” I frowned as she scoffed at what I told her. “Look, you don’t have to believe it, but if you want to live you either need to give me the diamond or open your mind to the possibility that what I’m telling you is true.”
“And you know about demons and the fallen because…” Her eyes narrowed as she expressed her suspicion.
I was ready for that, too.
“In case you hadn’t noticed the sword, I hunt them.” A grim expression settled on my face. “You don’t study this shit and not be prepared to face the worst Hell can throw at you.”
I could tell she wasn’t certain about my answer, but she seemed unable to counter what I told her. That was the trick to lying successfully. Mix enough of the truth in with it and no one would know the difference.
“Wouldn’t a gun be more effective?” The smirk that curled her lips looked delicious.
I shook my head. “They’re tougher than that. Gotta sever something important. A sword does that with more accuracy than bullets unless you’re a really, really good shot.”
I had tried a gun once. The bullets just went right though, and the amount of time it took to hit something crucial let the demon get close enough that I had needed the sword anyway. I figured I might as well just skip to the end.
“Okay,” she said. “So, what’s the difference between a demon and the Fallen?”
Again, she asked a good question. This one was the most important as far as I was concerned. I intended on telling her, but this told me that she was headed in the direction I wanted her to go.
“The Fallen,” I began. This was not a comfortable topic, but no good plan included a smooth path. “They were originally angels. I assumed you’ve heard about the war in Heaven. Lucifer’s fall. He took a third of the angels with him. The fallen make up that third. They’re lords, princes, kings in Hell. Demons, they’re just creatures without thought or direction. They can’t use magic like the diamond. The fallen can. Especially since they were the ones that created it in the first place.”
“So, Milton was right,” she muttered. There was a touch of awe in her voice.
I shrugged. Poets and their ilk were more pains in the ass than help. They tended to stick their noses where they didn’t belong, then write about it. More often than not, badly.
“There are rumors that he made a deal to write that. Dante, too. They both got things a little too accurate.”
“Fine,” she sighed. Once again, she shoved a hand through her hair. “So evil angels are after me. God, I went from a great career move to having my life in danger. And I should chalk this all up to superstitious nonsense and admit that I’ve been kidnapped. Maybe even suffering from some weird Stockholm Syndrome…”
That got my attention. “Why aren’t you?”
She glanced at me for a moment then shook her head. “I read the reports about what happened to the last people who had that diamond for any length of time.” She paused to sit up more. “It’s one of the top ten cursed gemstones. They call it The Black Orlov. People have died. Horribly. Not just gone broke or ruined like with The Hope Diamond. So maybe you’re right. Maybe there are demons and they’ve torn people up to get at the diamond. Why they haven’t succeeded is anyone’s guess.”
I knew why. Sometimes it had been me. Sometimes the diamond had been shipped away before the fallen had caught up with the previous owner. I wasn’t about to tell her that. It would lead to uncomfortable questions about me that I did not want to answer. Fortunately, she jumped subjects.
“Hey,” she said as she looked at me. “What’s your name? I’m Brenna.”
I hadn’t known her name. I hadn’t cared to. But that was a human quirk. They had to name everything. “March,” I answered.
“What kind of name is March?”
“What kind of name is Brenna?”
“It’s Irish,” she answered taken aback.
“It’s a nickname,” I replied.
Silence fell between us for a moment while she got her pride back. I had stung it on purpose for the same reason I was being a bastard with the truth. I needed her to not like me, to want to be away from me. More than that, I needed her scared.
“So now what?” she asked. “We can’t stay on the ferry forever.”
“No,” I agreed. “They’d find us sooner or later.” I paused for a moment, but only for effect. If it seemed as if I were not too eager to have the diamond, she would be more inclined to give it to me. I had to play this exactly right.
This would be so much easier if I could just take it from her. But no. The owner had to give it freely or die. Since I did not want to kill her, I had to manipulate her.
“You give me the diamond then go home. Live the rest of your life.”
“No way!” Her shout made me wince.
We weren’t the only people on the ferry, though there weren’t many others. But her cry of protest drew eyes to us. Being as large as I was, they could get the wrong impression. I didn’t enjoy harming bystanders, but I would if I had to.
Even though I shushed her, she continued. “This is my job.” She clutched the bag to her with both hands wrapped around the straps. “The diamond belongs to the museum.”
Where have I heard that before?
My sigh was almost a growl.
Why are humans so damn stubborn? I know, I know. Free will. Fine.
I would have to show her. My senses had already picked up on company outside. I took her hand then led her toward a window. She resisted a little, probably because of her phobia, but she came with me.
I put my arm around her when we got there to keep her steady. “Look,” I said then pointed toward the swiftly approaching dock. “See that guy?” I asked pointing to the silhouette of a large man. “He’s not a dockhand. Now you can give me the diamond and he’ll leave you alone. He’ll come after me.”
I could feel her shaking under my arm. She was tense and scared, and not just because she could see the water. She stared at the fallen that waited for the boat to dock. Good. She was as scared as I wanted. But I really needed to stop making assumptions.
“I’m sorry,” she said to me in a whisper. “I can’t.”
Those lovely hazel eyes were turned up to me. At this range I could see a hint of tears, but also a courage that I so rarely saw from a human.
Stunning. Absolutely stunning.
I couldn’t deny that I admired her conviction. It so closely matched my own.
“I know how much danger I’m in, but I took this assignment. I’ll see it through,” she said.
Stubborn woman! Stubborn, gorgeous, bold woman!
A low growl of frustration rumbled in my throat, but that was as much as I was willing to give in to. We didn’t have time for a debate. The dock was too close.
“Fine,” I said then led her back to our things. “Secure everything but the diamond. Keep that in your hand.”
I couldn’t take it, but I could use it. Sort of. There was more than one thing it could do if you knew the right incantations, and I did. I slung the scabbard with my sword over my shoulder. Just in case the welcoming committee on the dock decided to come to us instead of waiting, I would need it to buy us time.
Brenna did as I asked, for once, and held the diamond tightly with one hand. Her bag was in the other, but her purse remained on the bench. “What are you going to do?” she asked.
I put my hand over her hand that held the diamond then pulled her in close to me with my other arm wrapped around her waist.
“I’m going to throw a Hail Mary.”
She had a moment of panic as my eyes flashed a bright honey gold. I hissed out the ancient Babylonian incantation I had memorized long ago. The words seemed to echo through the cabin of the ferry then power surged from the diamond. It wasn’t a visible thing, but I felt it wrap around us both.
A moment later we were gone.
FOUR
BRENNA
July 11th
09:52:16
Groais Island, Newfoundland Canada
A hunting cabin
* * *
Waking up felt like crawling out of a hole filled with cooling mud. The only time I ever had this much trouble waking up was the morning after a graduation party. I didn’t remember drinking any alcohol let alone enough to put me into this state of grogginess. Even worse, on top of my confusion I felt scared and physically cold. The weight of a blanket registered in my hazed mind, but nothing else my senses told me made sense. It was colder than it should be in July. Something smelled musty, like a cellar, but even that wasn’t quite right. I pried my eyes open, but sight didn’t help explain anything.
I looked at my surroundings. I was on a worn-out couch in a room about the same size as my living room and bedroom combined. Everything was made of wood. The walls, the floor. Even the tables and the frames for the couch and the two chairs on either side. The chairs were angled to better face the fireplace across from me, the only thing here that was not made of wood. The mantle, hearth, and framework looked to be made up of granite or flagstone, and the logs inside were unlit.
Everything came back to me. The museum. The diamond. The guy who jumped me in the garage, and the man who saved me. I felt like crawling under the blanket and never coming back out.
My body went tense as nerves took hold of me. Not even a day ago I had been so hopeful, my life had been unfolding in a promising direction. Now it was falling apart all around me. How could things change so drastically, so quickly?
I shut my eyes tight and wished with everything I had. I wished it had all been a bad dream brought on by a lack of sleep and bad take out. Maybe if I believed in the lie strongly enough it would change back.
But, I knew better than that. The bad dream was my reality, and I had no idea where I was. Only one person could answer that.
March stood at the window with his back to me. The sun was at just the right angle to put him in shadow for the most part, but it still highlighted his back muscles. He had the broadest shoulders I had ever seen on any man. Or woman.
In direct contrast, his waist was narrow and fit. The t-shirt he wore looked about a size too small and accentuated his form. He was developed like a middle weight body builder, and I had to admit to myself that I enjoyed the sight of him. If I had met him under any other circumstance I would be flustered and blushing. I would have given myself a very slim chance of knowing him better.
Of course, none of that was even a consideration right now. It was difficult to have romantic thoughts when your life was on the line.
Sex? Uh. Yeah.
But even I knew that was just a body’s survival instinct kicking hormones into overdrive. So, while I found March attractive, it was closer to admiring a work of art rather than any kind of actual personal interest. I couldn’t help but stare as I studied the lines and curves of his body.
I would have been content to go on studying March’s body, but an unexpected sneeze alerted him that I was awake.
Stupid allergies.
“Morning,” he said as he turned around.
Even backlit as he was, I could tell his expression was grim. March always seemed grim and displeased. I hadn’t known him for very long, but so far all I had seen from him were various examples of frowns and scowls.
I rubbed under my nose to keep another sneeze from coming.
“Where are we?” I asked as I sat up. The dusty old quilt was kicked off. That was probably what brought out the initial sneeze. Dislodging it had raised a cloud of dust that made me want to cough.
“A perfectly miserable island off the coast of Newfoundland,” he answ
ered as he walked by. He could not have sounded grumpier if he tried.
“Canada?” I didn’t appreciate the bland look he gave me, and I was tempted to stick my tongue out at him. If not for the fact that the last place I remembered being was the Staten Island Ferry in New York City I would have. The absurdity of my improbable location stayed my childish impulse.
“How did we get here?” I asked as I went to the window March had just vacated.
A shiver rippled through me for more reasons than just the cooler temperature emanating through a bad frame seal. It was what I saw outside that chilled me.
Yep. It is an island. Yep. Those are caribou eating grass a few yards out.
I could see the ocean off in the distance. It wasn’t close enough to give me anxiety, fortunately, but close enough to tell me that this wasn’t a very big island. There weren’t any trees, but there were large scrub brushes that I was sure were taller than me.
Wonderful.
“I used the diamond to transport us.” March’s answer turned my attention away from the window and back on him. It was one thing to read or hear about magic but quite another to have it happen to me. As that sank in, March continued. “It was a huge risk. The fallen would have picked up on the energy expulsion, but they would have no way to track it. So, we’re safe.” He followed that up with a pointed look. “For now.”
I took notice of his use of the word we. It was no longer just me that was safe or needed to be. We were safe. Apparently, we were a team now. I liked that. What surprised me was how much I liked it. I didn’t understand that reaction at all. It wasn’t like me.
What’s going on with me? Why do I trust this man I just met?
He treated me like I was the largest pain in his ass and had absolutely no respect for me. And yet, I did trust him. It was a gut feeling that I decided to listen to. I wasn’t the survivalist type, but I’d survived living in New York City by following my instincts.
“How long will we be here?” I asked.
I looked around and realized this was someone’s hunting cabin but based on the layer of dust, I guessed it hadn’t been used in months. I walked into the small kitchen and found stores of jars, cans, and other containers on the open shelves. Whoever owned it would be back eventually if I went by all nonperishable food.
Demons Are a Girl's Best Friend (Good Girls & Demons) Page 3