But I stunk worse than sewer water, and there was no way in hell I’d let the elf near me before I scrubbed the filth from my body.
Pulling my eyes away from him before my feelings got me into trouble, I flicked my gaze around the table to Danto. I couldn’t help but notice while I had eaten my fourth slice of vegetarian pizza, Layla and Danto were sitting mighty close to one another. Even from where I was, I could see their thighs touching. I couldn’t be happier for my vampire friend, even if the timing did suck. When I thought about it, Layla and Danto were perfect for each other. I’d been gone a week, and clearly things had spiced up between the two of them. I tried hard not to smile too broadly when I saw their hands touch under the table, their fingers intertwining.
A smile creased my features. It was good to be home.
“Okay,” said Tyrius, and I turned my attention to him. He moved around the pizza boxes, snatching up crumbs and leftover chunks of cheese. “You told us how you got on the island,” he said between chews. “But you didn’t mention how you got off and landed in Grandma’s kitchen.” He stopped chewing. “Spill it.”
Everyone’s attention snapped back to me. “Right.” I took a breath and let it out slowly. God, I was tired. The cup of coffee in my grip wasn’t helping at all. My voice punctured the tension in the kitchen, and my eyes lifted to Gareth. His shoulders were tight with strain and I didn’t know what he was thinking.
“How did you get here, Rowyn?” repeated Tyrius, his voice thrumming with tension.
I could feel Tyrius’s eyes on me, waiting for me to say it. I took a breath and said, “Daddy dearest gave me a lift.”
Tyrius spit the piece of pepperoni from his mouth. “I’m sorry... did you say...”
“Lucian,” I said, cutting his question short. I shifted in my seat, bracing myself for their reaction. “The archdemon used his demon magic and teleported me here.”
“Beam me up, Scotty.” Tyrius whistled. “The dude’s got style.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” I said, thinking of a few words I’d forgotten to call him and making a mental note to use them the next time I saw the archdemon.
Danto leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “Your father is an archdemon?”
I nodded, my eyes moving to my grandmother, but her calm demeanor surprised me. It wasn’t the freak-out I was expecting. She looked... calm, like she’d known already.
My grandmother’s face wrinkled into a smile at my reaction. She reached out and patted my hand. “Don’t worry, dear. Tyrius filled me in about the archdemon thing. Your parents and I always suspected you had some demon essence in you... we knew you could never just have angel essence. We knew you were different.” She pinched her lips. “Just never imagined it would be the essence of that kind of demon.”
I pulled my hand away. “Join the club,” I said, remembering the shock I’d felt when Lisbeth had told me in Sylph Tower and I had refused to believe her.
Danto frowned at me, his face crinkled in thought. “That magic I saw you use on Ethan—” He broke off his speech as a look of sudden comprehension came into his face. “You have dark magic, like Layla.”
“Not exactly,” I said quietly. It surprised me how calm I sounded. “Layla has dark magic, a gift from the dark witch Evanora Crow when she meddled with their essence. She infused them with her power, her dark magic, to make a stronger race of Unmarked. So that they could use dark magic like the witches.”
Layla shifted in her seat. Frustration, even true anger flickered across the pretty woman’s face. “I never used it,” she said. “I don’t like it. It’s unpredictable. I’d rather use my blades.”
I smiled at her, knowing exactly what she meant. “Me... well... it’s not dark magic. It’s something else.”
“What do you mean?” asked Danto though I was looking at Gareth. The elf hadn’t seen me use the archdemon’s gift on the Unmarked. Hell, he hadn’t even known I’d accepted the gift from Lucian. Damn, this was going to be ugly.
Gareth had obviously picked up on my tension and the trepidation across my face. He kept his tone and expression neutral and asked, “What is it, Rowyn?” Kora opened her eyes at the sudden shift in his body.
I looked at Tyrius, who gave me an encouraging smile. “Lucian gave me a gift.”
“Why don’t I like the sound of that,” said my grandmother, frowning, and I could see the worry in the tightness of her shoulders.
“Because demons never give anything away for free,” I told her, hearing the truth in my own words. I was such a fool. I waited to get everyone’s attention again and said, “He gave me a gift of power. Of archdemon power.” The silence that followed made my innards feel rock-hard. “It was how I was able to defeat Ethan and save Layla.”
I looked at Gareth again, but he was staring at the table, his expression unreadable. My heart sped up.
“Then, that’s good. Isn’t it?” asked Danto, looking slightly relieved. “I saw what you did to Ethan’s magic. You destroyed it. You can beat him with this.”
I shook my head. “It’s not good,” I said, taking a breath and seeing Gareth’s head snap up. “I killed some GHOSTS with it on the island.” I swallowed. “And I liked it.”
My grandmother inhaled sharply but said nothing.
More silence, just the small agitated ticks of Tyrius’s tapping tail on the table to mar the stillness. Oh, boy. The silence was worse than if they’d all slapped me one by one. I didn’t have to look at their faces to see the shock there. I could feel it, thick and hot in the room like a sudden increase in temperature.
Finally, Tyrius cut the silence. “Damn, woman. That is bad. Exceptionally bad if you liked the killing part. Not that those bastards didn’t deserve it because I’m sure you killed them when you had no other choice... but damn. If you liked the killing part... that is seriously messed up.”
“You don’t need to remind me. I know,” I said, feeling worse now that I had said it out loud. I cringed at the thought of what would happen if I told them about the “I can kill angel souls with my bare hands” part. I wasn’t ready to tell them about it. Not yet. Tyrius knew, and for now that was enough.
I gripped my empty mug, my gut twisting. “I wish I could give it back. It’s why he was on the island in the first place.”
“Because you asked him to take the gift back,” answered Tyrius for me. “I take it he didn’t agree if you thought he was beaming you to the Netherworld.”
I tried to ditch my sudden anger and failed. “No, he didn’t. I really thought I was on my way to the Netherworld,” I said, which was true. Though, I wasn’t about to share my brilliant plan of attempting to kill myself so that I could go to the Netherworld and kick Lucian’s ass. That had been a really stupid idea.
“Could he even take it back if he’d agreed?” asked the baal demon. “Sometimes these things have a way of getting into your system and it becomes harder to remove. He might not have been able to, not without harming you.”
“I’m sure he could,” I answered, remembering how he’d worked around the question. “He just didn’t want to.” Also, being Unmarked without the protection of the archangel sigils, I was almost certain he could remove it if he truly wanted to. He didn’t.
“What about Layla?” Danto shifted in his chair. I could hear the strain and worry in his voice. His gray eyes focused on her. “She has your blood in her. Does it mean this Lucian will come after her next?” His fingers reached for hers again under the table, and he squeezed them.
Damn. I didn’t want this for Layla. “He doesn’t know about her or the others,” I said, seeing the relief in her big brown eyes. “Let’s keep it that way for now. I don’t want to have to imagine what Ethan would or could do with that kind of power.”
“A dark wizard on steroids,” said Tyrius, reading my thoughts.
Lucian didn’t know about Layla and the other Unmarked. It was probably the only reason he didn’t kill me because he thought I was the only one still alive to carry his
gift, his curse.
When I met Gareth’s eyes, he stared at me for a moment, frustration and sadness sharing space on his features.
“I told you before, Rowyn,” said the elf, smiling though I could see the stress in his face. “I can help you with that. You can learn to control it. Like any great power or magic, it takes practice and concentration to wield it. But you can master it. I know you can.”
“I know,” I said, though not entirely sure. I sighed. “And I’m grateful. Truly. But I’d rather get rid of it if I can. I don’t want this... this curse in me anymore.”
A day-walking demon, or so Lucian had said. A true half-breed. Yikes. The gift would transform me into a demon—or something much worse.
The mood was tense, words yet unsaid heavy in the air. My leftover pizza crust was within my reach, so I pulled off a piece and put it in my mouth. I chewed, feeling angry and guilty that I’d enjoyed killing those guards. I will not become a demon.
Tyrius walked to the edge of the table, his blue eyes gleaming. “Don’t worry, Rowyn. We’ll figure out how to get rid of it.”
I reached out and rubbed my friend under his chin. “Well, before I can do anything about that,” I said, trying to calm my thrashing pulse. “I need to clear my name. I have to prove to the Gray Council that Lisbeth’s been blackmailing me, and that Steven’s death wasn’t intentional.”
“How are we going to do that?” questioned the Siamese cat as he settled himself inside one of the empty pizza boxes. What is it with cats and boxes? “Lisbeth will never admit to it. She loves her throne. It won’t be easy to knock her off.”
I shifted in my chair. “What about the papers with the names on them? Did you look for them?”
“Here they are.” My grandmother pulled two pieces of paper from her pocket and flattened them on the table. They were the papers I’d crumbled with the names STEVEN PRICE and DANTO DE LUCA, written with an elegant penmanship. “Tyrius and I found them in your apartment.” She raised her hand and my protest died in my throat. “Don’t worry, dear,” said my grandmother, her expressions tight with anger. “Tyrius filled me in about that too. I know all about Lisbeth and what she did.” She got up and moved to the kitchen counter to pour herself a glass of white wine, red already spotting her cheeks.
Upon my abrupt arrival in her kitchen, Gareth had told me my grandmother had demanded to come back home from the spa retreat as soon as she heard I’d been sent to the Silent Gallows, the so-called island prison. Seeing her had brought me great joy, but now I was worried about her safety. It wouldn’t be long before Lisbeth found out. Two days tops, if I had to guess, maybe less.
Tyrius flopped out of the pizza box and lolled on the table next to my mug. “What do you have in mind? It’s not like the Gray Council is going to receive you with open arms. Now that you’re a fugitive and all.”
I leaned back in my chair, noticing that Danto and Layla were still holding hands. “No. But by disabling the cameras, it’ll slow them down. They think I’m still there, so that’ll give me some time to work something out before they start looking for me again.”
“I’ll testify.”
I looked up at the sound of Gareth’s voice. “I can’t ask you to do that,” I said, and my pulse kicked up a notch.
Smiling, the elf settled back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “You don’t have to. I’m doing it.” His eyes held a mixture of determination, anger, and defiance.
“Thanks, but I don’t want you more involved,” I said. Then I added quickly, “This is my mess.”
“I’m doing it.”
I frowned at the elf. “If they find out you elf-dusted the werewolves, rendering them all unconscious, that’s also a serious offense. It’s an attack. They’ll say you were my accomplice.”
“They won’t,” said Gareth, a faint smile playing about his lips. “I was only trying to protect you.”
I leaned forward, a sliver of worry coloring my irritation. “They will.”
Tyrius rolled his eyes. “Man. You two are perfect for each other. You know that? Both stubborn as hell,” he said, and I heard Kora snort. Tyrius flicked his tail. “Let the elf testify. It would help.”
There was no way in hell I’d let Gareth testify on my behalf. It would only land him a noose around his neck. Things were just starting to heat up between the two of us. I was not going to mess with that.
“Me too,” said Layla before I could say something. “I’ll testify. I’m also proof. All they have to do is check for my birth records. They’ll see that I don’t exist. No living parents, nothing. I’m a ghost, just like the others.” Her entire posture shifted from sexy, cool warrior to one brimming with tense excitement.
Crap. I had never thought about that. I was positive Lisbeth, after her science experiment, had killed all the mothers and fathers involved to cover her tracks. Just as the archangel Vedriel had done. The old bitch was a cruel one.
I shook my head, feeling my chest welling with a mix of sorrow and gratitude. “The Gray Council doesn’t know you, Layla. Just like they don’t know me. It would be your word against Lisbeth’s. And look what they did to me.”
“That was an ambush, not a trial,” said Tyrius, his eyes moving to Danto, and I saw the vampire’s jaw tighten.
I felt a stab of guilt. I felt bad about screwing up everyone’s lives, and the only way I could see a way out was to remove Lisbeth. Resolving this with a happy ending was still a possibility, but the odds were looking really slim right about now.
I glanced over to Danto, who was looking at Layla as she played with her fork. Gareth wasn’t looking at anyone, his jaw set and his focus distant. And my grandmother, well, she was refilling her glass with white wine.
My pulse throbbed. These were my friends, my family. And by God I wouldn’t let anything happen to them. There was only one way to get rid of Lisbeth, and it wasn’t by killing her. I needed to be smart. Smarter than her. She’d expected me to come at her, swords blazing, because I was predictable. I was a Hunter, after all. I killed things for a living. What else could she expect?
No. I had to play her game. I had to be unpredictable. And I knew exactly what I needed to do.
“We need someone significant,” I said, my heart pounding with excitement as I sat straighter in my chair. I took a deep breath and exhaled through my nose. “Not just someone the Gray Council trusts, but someone they would have no choice but to believe. Someone they can’t refuse.”
Tyrius watched me, realization dawning on his tiny features. “You need the old bat Evanora Crow,” mewed the cat, matching my smile with his own.
“Exactly,” I answered, flicking my gaze around the table and seeing their collective surprise. “With her testimony, we can have my charges dropped and Lisbeth removed from council. I’ll fly the chopper myself to that godforsaken island if I have to.”
“I like the way your mind works, woman,” said the cat, his entire fur bristling with excitement. “If we can get her to talk, we have a case. A real case.”
Danto perked up in his chair. “That might actually work.”
“Of course it’s going to work,” I said, trying hard not to sound smug. My eyes fell on Gareth. His smile had real warmth and something else that had my heart turning summersaults inside my chest. When this was over, I was going to rip off all his clothes and jump him.
“But there’s one foreseeable giant problem in your plan,” said Tyrius as he jumped to his feet. “How do we get the old witch to blab?”
I gave the cat a wicked smile. “Leave that to me.” I knew exactly how to make her talk.
But I also had another reason I wanted to find the old dark witch. If anyone could remove an archdemon curse, she was the witch to do it.
“So when do we go witch hunting?” asked Tyrius, bouncing around the table and looking way too happy about this.
I looked down at myself. “First, I’m going to take a really, really long shower. And then we go fetch ourselves a dark witch.”<
br />
13
By the time we hit Mystic Quarter, the paranormal district that was hidden from the rest of Manhattan, the sun had dipped below the clouds. The sky was a series of hot streaks, gradually burning toward scarlet and ash when Tyrius and I got out of Gareth’s truck.
Together, we walked the streets, the quarter just as flamboyant and unusual as the last time I was here. A vampire couple strolled past us, deep in conversation and not even looking up as we walked by. Gnomes were busy setting up their booths with the glittery jewelry they were selling at the midnight market. A pack of teen werewolves leaped over parked cars and benches, kicking a soccer ball between them, while a cluster of trolls argued in front of Dragon Scale’s Pub with pints in their hands as they compared drinks. Pixies flew above us, leaving trails of rainbow-colored pixy dust drifting down like brilliant powder. They darted to and from unsuspecting victims, flying away a little heavier with loads of earrings, necklaces, and watches.
It was a circus, a freakshow of half-breeds in their milieu, the dark and mysterious and magical, the supernatural. I smiled. God, I missed this place.
Granted, I was traveling incognito. The paranormal community thought I was still on the island, or better yet, dead, killed by the silent gallows. I always kept drawers full of spare clothes at my grandmother’s place, and after going through what was there, I’d pulled on a black hoodie and matched it with a pair of dark blue jeans.
The familiar scent of sulfur and the pulse of the paranormal was thick and unyielding, sticking to our skin and our clothes like an overlay of heavy mist. But this time it was different. It was like I could feel the demon energies a hundred times stronger, as though a hundred different voices all shouted at me at the same time.
It thrummed through me, beating like a second heart, spreading through my soul and unfurling through my mind. I could feel it, alive like a second awareness beside my own.
Dark Curse Page 10