by Sara Snow
Mammon.
He was reaching for me, and like a mouse mesmerized by a predator, I could not move.
A wild shout shattered Mammon’s spell. Eli came flying at the demon as if he was falling from the sky. He wrapped his arm around the demon’s thick neck and jerked it towards him. The demon pushed Eli away as easily as if he’d been a fly who’d landed on the demon’s nose. That shove might have been casual, but it was enough to send Eli sailing across the room.
“Back off, fucker. She is mine!”
I was going to become the next rotting meal on Mammon’s table.
Eli scrambled to his feet. Crouched low, he rushed the demon, the stake extended in his hand. He plowed it into the demon’s gut, releasing a wave of green fluid that hissed as it splashed the carpet. The demon roared with fury. With the stake still protruding from his belly, Mammon grabbed Eli like a rag doll and raised him over his head.
I wasn’t strong enough to move the demon with my mind. But I could move Eli. Mammon shifted his weight, preparing to fling Eli against the wall.
I focused with all my might. Our lives depended on it.
Eli’s body sailed through the air again, but instead of smashing into the wall, he hovered just long enough to catch his footing as he fell. He tripped, righted himself, grabbed his stake from where it had fallen, and rushed the demon again with a battle cry.
Eli and the demon fell to the floor. The sounds of their combat shook the vacant building as they rolled back and forth. Eli struck at the demon with the stake, piercing his flesh again and again but missing his heart. The demon easily outweighed him, but Eli was agile and muscular, and he was able to avoid Mammon’s furious blows. Fluid gushed from the demon’s gut wound, and as the bilious goo soaked the carpet, I could see the demon weaken.
“Go find the children!” Eli shouted at me. “Hurry!”
He continued to rush at Mammon’s chest and belly, striking again and again with the stake. Mammon’s roars of rage were subsiding into groans. His face was contorted into a mask of agony. He wouldn’t last much longer, but he wouldn’t die unless Eli could ram his heart full of iron.
In the back of the apartment, the cries of the children rose again. I ran from room to room, searching for their source. Throwing open the door to the bedroom, I finally found them.
Wild-eyed and wary, they stared at me from behind the bars of a cage. The cage nearly filled the tiny room, but it wasn’t big enough to give the children any space to stand. Their small, defenseless bodies were hunched together in a clump of arms and legs. A feral smell surrounded the little prisoners—the smell of human waste mingled with fear.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, walking softly towards the cage. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m going to help you. I’m going to get you all out of here.”
The children recoiled, but their hesitation held a promise that if I wasn’t dangerous or scary, they might come to me.
I crouched down beside the cage so that I was at eye-level with the group. I guessed that their ages ranged from six to ten. All of the kids were emaciated and dehydrated. Their eyes were huge in shrunken sockets, and their lips were dry and cracked. I held out my hand. The children stiffened, unsure what to expect.
Was I going to reach through the bars to grab them, hit them? Or was I offering food and safety?
“You’re not my mom,” said one of the boys. There was sadness in the statement, not accusation.
“No, I’m not. But I’m here to take you back to your parents.”
I had assumed the cage would be locked, but it was only latched in a way so that the children couldn’t open it from the inside. I pulled open the door, and it broke my heart to see that the kids didn’t move at first. As hellish as it was, their barred prison had also been their one source of safety.
“Come on,” I urged. “Let’s go. We have to hurry.”
Slowly, the children separated from each other and began to crawl, one by one, out of the cage. Instead of standing and running, they continued to crawl across the floor.
At the other end of the apartment, I heard the last grunts and gasps of Mammon, and the rhythmic blows of Eli’s stake piercing his flesh.
Eli was keeping his promise to kick the demon’s ass.
Even though Mammon was dying, I wasn’t about to let down my guard. I herded the poor, weak children through the rooms of the hellhole. A couple of the older ones were able to struggle to their feet to take the final steps out of their prison. The others crawled along behind them. When the older kids reached down to help the little ones wobble upright, my eyes stung with tears.
“Let’s go! Come on!” whispered the tallest of the boys. He led the parade of lost children toward the stairwell while I followed, looking nervously over my shoulder. As long as I could still hear the sounds of Eli kicking demon ass, I felt okay.
My next challenge would be to get all these kids down six flights of stairs, but that was nothing compared to the torture I’d released them from.
Dawn was shedding a pale yellow light over the city when Eli and I returned the children to their parents. Some of them did not know where they lived, but the oldest of the boys remembered the houses that they lived in. On the day they were abducted, the changelings had driven from house to house, plucking the children like ripe peaches. This boy had drawn a map in his head that allowed him to guide us to each child’s home.
“You must be a superhero,” I told the kid. “You have the power of GPS.”
He grinned with delight.
I’d never felt anything like the joy that filled me when I returned each of the children to their parents. Watching those ecstatic reunions, I felt like I was doing something truly good for once, and my heart overflowed.
We met up with Carter after the last of the six children had been returned to her overjoyed parents. It was almost noon, and though I’d been awake for over twenty-four hours, the adrenaline of the night still hummed through my veins.
“You should have seen Eli whip that demon’s ugly ass!” I babbled. “It was epic. When that green gunk gushed out of Mammon’s stomach, I thought I was going to puke.”
Eli laughed. “Well, if you hadn’t stopped me from slamming into the wall, I’d be toast. How did your night go, Carter?”
“It wasn’t quite so dramatic. I knocked off the changelings without too much effort,” Carter said lightly.
I could tell by the shadows under his eyes that his task hadn’t been all that easy. He had a bruise on his forehead and what looked like a bite mark on his cheek. Dried blood spattered his white collar. But he refused to describe the slaying for me.
“Another day at the old grindstone,” he insisted. “You’re the one who should be celebrating, Georgia. How about a drink?”
“Isn’t it too early? Or too late?”
“Never. Where would you like to go?”
“How about the Abyss?”
Carter and Eli stared at me for a second before they caught my ghastly joke. “A fern bar might be more appropriate,” Carter said.
“What’s a fern bar?”
“Never mind. That was before your time.”
Carter chose a quiet, understated club that I might have considered boring if I hadn’t been high on my accomplishment. That night had almost eclipsed the horrors of the car crash. I was starting to feel a tendril of confidence unfurling in my mind. Maybe I wasn’t doomed to struggle with low self-esteem for the rest of my life after all.
At the bar, Carter ordered a bottle of Veuve Clicquot and poured each of us a glass. Eli turned down the champagne, toasting me with black coffee instead. He yawned as he sipped from the mug, and I realized that he was only hanging out with us to be polite.
Before he made his excuses and left, Eli took my hand.
“Congratulations,” he said, his eyes warm with pride. “You were awesome last night.”
“That glow on your face makes me wonder whether the two of you were really slaying demons, or enjoying some other ho
t encounter,” Carter said.
I blushed. “Seriously, Carter. Don’t turn the night into a dirty joke.”
“He’s just being a guy,” Eli said. “You know how we are.”
He punched Carter affectionately on the shoulder and left the bar. Carter refilled my glass. The bubbles tickled my nose as I took a happy sip. Smiling, Carter watched me swallow the delectable champagne.
“Be careful. This stuff will sneak up on you.”
He was right. A tingly buzz was already warming my skin. But I wasn’t in the mood for restraint right now.
“What’s our next mission going to be?” I asked.
My toe collided with something solid under the table, and I realized it was Carter’s shoe. If this were any other day, I would have moved my foot away—playing footsie under the table seemed out of bounds in our relationship. But today, I wanted to push a few of those boundaries.
Carter glanced at me. I couldn’t tell if he had noticed my foot or not.
“Be patient. You’ll find out when it’s time.”
“What if I don’t want to wait?”
I rested my chin on my hand and looked up at him through my eyelashes. I remembered how he had devoured me with his eyes at the scene of the accident, his fangs jutting behind his lips. Funny how I felt more attracted to him now that I knew about his origins.
“Then I’ll have to teach you how to have patience. You could stand a little discipline.”
No question now. He knew I was prodding his shoe with my toe. I lifted my foot and let it brush his ankle. He didn’t move his own foot away, but he didn’t return the nudge either.
“I know how to restrain myself when I have to,” I said. “I just don’t choose to do that right now. That’s why I’m drinking champagne in a bar with you instead of sleeping off the night in my own bed.”
Carter gave me a stern look. “You really should be in your own bed, Georgia. You just successfully slayed your first demon. And you look exhausted.”
“Gee, thanks!”
“Let me revise that,” Carter said, his voice softening. “You look beautiful, but exhausted. You look like you need to rest.”
I couldn’t argue with him. The buzz of the champagne was starting to fade, replaced by a pleasant drowsiness. If the waiter came by and set a pillow down on the table, I could have easily dropped my head into its depths and fallen asleep.
Then, Carter’s foot shifted so that his toe was now resting on mine. He pressed hard for a moment, long enough to let me know that he was aware of my clumsy attempt to flirt with him. He leaned forward.
“Your room at the warehouse is waiting for you. Nice, soft bed. Fresh sheets. Heaps of those pillows that Olympia likes to fill the rooms with. What do you say?”
He reached under the table to take my hand. Then, he moved closer, so close that I could see flecks of gold in his brown eyes. I hadn’t noticed that his eyes were slightly almond-shaped, like a cat’s. His thick brown hair and his clothes had a smoky scent.
“Did you burn those changelings to death last night?” I asked, sniffing. “You smell like you’ve been playing with fire.”
“I was playing with fire,” Carter admitted. “And I still am. We both are, wouldn’t you agree?”
His hand moved to my knee. The firm weight of his palm made my thigh quiver.
“That would depend on which side of you is playing. Human or vampire?”
One corner of his mouth curved up in a sexy half-smile. “I would say both. Definitely both.”
“I’m not sure I like the sound of that. I don’t know if I’m in the mood to donate blood.”
His brown eyes widened, his pupils dilating. He was sitting so close to me now that his shoulder almost touched mine. His voice, when he spoke, warmed my cheek.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Georgia. The last thing in the world I want to do is hurt you. Quite the opposite. I would never take blood from you without your consent.”
I gulped. From playing footsie to almost kissing, this conversation was moving faster than I had expected. I had started all of this, but now I had lost control of the flirtation. There was no backpedaling now.
His lips brushed mine. I felt the hardness of his teeth through our near-kiss, but no fangs. Maybe it really was his human side leading this dance. I leaned in to meet his lips.
A vibrating buzz shook the table, shattering the moment. Carter sighed, glancing at the display on his phone. The desire I’d seen in his eyes turned into a look of concern.
“I’m sorry, I have to take this call.”
He pulled back, shoving his chair away from the table a little faster than I would have liked. That flicker of jealousy that I’d felt the other night flared in my belly again. Why had he stood up so abruptly? Why was he heading to the lobby to continue the conversation?
Carter was smiling into the phone now, apparently enjoying whatever the caller had said. What if he was talking to that redhead right this minute? Or some other female creature, human or non-human, he had known in the past?
After all, Carter was born in 1950. He’d had at least fifty years to accumulate girlfriends, lovers, maybe even wives. How did I know he didn’t have a couple of ex-wives and a few mistresses stashed away somewhere? That could be an ex on the phone, calling to remind him to deposit her alimony payment.
My tired brain was sending my imagination into overdrive. Carter was right. A nap would do me a lot of good right now, and if I was going to get any sleep, I needed to go to bed alone.
I looked up to see Carter standing over me. He held out his hand to pull me up from the table.
“That must have been an important phone call.” I tried to keep the snark out of my voice, but I didn’t succeed.
“Yes. It was very important.”
His expression was serious now, no more of that lover boy glow.
“But it’s none of my business, right?”
“I don’t know yet. Let’s go. I’m taking you back to the warehouse.”
He tugged me to my feet. From the strength of his grip, I knew better than to argue.
22
Carter
I could have cursed the jackass who’d interrupted my near-kiss with Georgia. Whoever it was couldn’t have picked a worse time if they’d tried. I hadn’t meant for our flirtation to go that far, not so soon. She was so much younger than me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I didn’t deserve to have someone so innocent, so new to the adult world.
If only she was ten, even five years older, I wouldn’t have felt so guilty about wanting that gorgeous cambion so much.
Sure, Georgia had grown up a lot faster than most children, and had survived far more pain and rejection than any little girl should have experienced. But if anything, those scars on her heart made her all the more vulnerable. My duty as one of her protectors was to see her through her training, introducing her gradually to her true identity. Seducing a half-demon on the brink of discovering her true nature was unthinkable.
But I had definitely thought about it. And today, I’d been on the brink of taking those thoughts to the limit and beyond.
I had been moving in to meet Georgia’s succulent lips when my phone buzzed like an outraged hornet. That angry vibration almost knocked over my champagne glass. I turned instinctively, with no intention of picking up.
Then, I saw Jose’s name on the display. The one human being on the planet who was worth interrupting that kiss.
Jose hardly ever contacted me by phone. With his psychic gifts, he didn’t need technology to gather data on my whereabouts or my activities. When he did call, it was only to give me information, and those calls were never trivial.
I stood up from the table. This was going to be a conversation that Georgia didn’t need to hear. I could tell that she was crashing from the high of her mission last night, and the steam from our near-kiss had her emotions running hot. I didn’t want her to overhear me talking to Jose about some gory vision he had, not when Georgia nee
ded to sleep.
“What’s up, Jose?” I asked when I was out of her earshot. Even though he’d interrupted what could have been the best kiss I’d had in a long time, I couldn’t help smiling when I talked to the kid.
“You need to come back to the warehouse, Carter. Right now.”
“What’s going on?”
The urgency in Jose’s voice put me on high alert. His tone was usually dreamy, blurred at the edges. Not today.
“I can’t tell you over the phone. Just come back. And bring Georgia.”
He hung up before I could question him further.
When I got back to the table, Georgia’s eyelids were drooping, half-hiding those incredible purple eyes. I doubted that I could ever get enough of staring into those eyes of hers. Watching them was like studying the facets of a rare amethyst. They were gifts from her father, no doubt, so stunning that they could only have been passed on by a demon.
I couldn’t help smiling at the snide tone in her voice when she asked me about the phone call. I’d been around the block enough times to recognize jealousy in a woman. I didn’t like dealing with possessive or controlling females, but there was nothing wrong with a little healthy competition.
Except that this “competition” came from a sweet, gentle boy who would have been horrified to know that he’d upset a woman in any way.
“Come on,” I said, almost dragging her away from the table. “Let’s go back to the warehouse.”
She followed me obediently to my car, a sure sign that she was exhausted. The second her cute bottom hit the passenger seat, she leaned back and fell asleep.
As we drove, I kept sneaking glances at her. Her head fell against her left shoulder, allowing me to watch her as she slept. A trickle of spittle ran down the corner of her mouth. I reached out and whisked it away with my fingertip.
Kingston had once told me that falling asleep in front of another person was a sign of deep trust. Had Georgia finally come to trust me enough to turn her body over to me as she slept? Hell, she trusted me enough to let me see her drool—who knew what else she would allow me to see?