by J. Kenner
Then again, I was no longer Trusting Lily. By then, I was Edgy, Suspicious Lily, especially since I had Rose to protect.
I eyed her warily. "How'd you find me?"
"Clarence," she said. She shifted in the seat, leaning up against the driver's door and stretching leather-clad legs out on the battered bench seat, revealing an ankle holster sporting a very badass knife. "Said you were going to go see some dude about keeping a girl." She stretched, craning her neck so she could see over the back of the seat, then peering hard at Rose. "That the girl?"
"That's the one." I fought the urge to scoot protectively toward my sister. Then I wondered why the hell I was fighting. I slid over and pulled her close.
"Huh," Kiera said.
I bristled. And, yes, I know she'd saved my ass, but right then I wasn't entirely sure I liked her. "Huh, what?" I asked testily.
"Demon scent," she said, then flicked her eyes up and looked at me. Just looked at me, waiting for me to say something in response.
What the hell was I supposed to say? I went for the obvious: "Excuse me?"
Kiera's nose crinkled. "She's got some on her." She leaned closer, her nostrils flaring, as Rose shrunk back against the upholstery. "Huh. Can't get a handle on it."
After a moment of that, I pressed Kiera's shoulder and pushed her back. "Do you mind?" I said, hoping my voice sounded level. "She was strapped to a slab while the bastards did a number on her. Do you really have to go and remind her?"
"No shit?" Kiera cocked her head, and I kept my expression firm. Obstinate. Because she had to believe me. If she didn't—if she could tell that a demon was inside Rose—then I'd have to plead shock and ignorance. I might even get away with it. But Rose . . .
Well, she'd be in deep doo-doo. Because if Kiera was a demon hunter—and she damn sure looked the part—then she'd take Rose out.
Or, at least, she'd try to. And that wasn't a battle I was keen on fighting.
"Bastard marked her," Kiera said, crossing her arms on the back of the bench seat and staring me down. "Lousy demon fucking marked her."
"Marked her?"
She lifted a shoulder. "Sometimes, all they want is a sacrifice, and any old body will do. Male, female, virgin, slut, doesn't much matter. But sometimes, the demon gives a flip, and he marks his prey." She leaned forward again, breathing deep. Then she looked up, her green eyes fixed on me. "Oh, yeah. If she got the scent after getting strapped down, then she was marked. Who is it? Who wants the girl?"
"I don't know," I said, reinforcing the lie by meeting her eyes dead on. "All I know is she was strapped down, and it was gnarly."
"Huh."
"Shouldn't we get moving again?" I looked backward out the window, but didn't see our warrior-demon buddy. "He might come back."
"Oh, he will," she said. "But he'll regroup first." She shifted her neck from side to side, sighing a little as it cracked. "But you're right. I'm ripped."
"Me, too," I said, happy for the opening to get on with the program and get out of there. I mean, I was thrilled she'd saved our butts—and, yeah, she seemed to be who she said she was—but I was double-agent girl now, and I was towing a demon-infested sister along beside me. Really not the time to play get-to-know-you with the new girl at the office. "Can you take us back to my bike?”
Her eyes went wide. "Good God, are you bagging on me?"
"No," I said. "I mean . . . "
"I think we both need to blow off some steam." She smiled wide, perfect white teeth flashing. "And Little Bit there can come along for the ride. Can't you, girl?"
Rose looked up at me, but I just shrugged, a mixture of acquiescence and befuddlement.
"So we're settled," Kiera said. She turned back around, jerked the car into gear, and peeled out of the parking lot.
She cruised around, getting deeper and deeper into the kinds of neighborhoods even I used to avoid—and we're talking even back in the days when I wasn't above selling a little smack to make an extra buck. She slid the Pontiac into a space in front of a hole-in-the-wall diner with a sputtering neon sign out front announcing they served "Good Food," but only the G, an O, and a D were lit up.
Personally, I doubted God dined there. Unless God was keen on salmonella poisoning and rat droppings in the hamburgers. But then again, what did I know? We clambered inside and slid into one of the booths, Rose and I on one side, and Kiera surveying us both from the other.
She lifted her arm and snapped, then pointed her finger at the table. Moments later, an emaciated waitress with matching nose and eyebrow rings delivered us water and coffee. I took a sip, discovered the coffee wasn't nearly as bad as I'd expected, and settled back against the mutilated vinyl booth.
"Okay, partner," she said. “Tell me all about you."
I glanced sideways at Rose, who was staring at Kiera, her elbow on the table and her chin propped on her fist. I shifted my gaze back to Kiera and shrugged. "Not much to tell."
Her brows lifted in an obvious expression of disbelief. "Uh-huh," she said, but she didn't press. Instead, she focused on Rose. "So how you doing, Little Bit?"
Rose tilted her head down and mumbled to the table. "Okay. He's hiding."
"He?" Kiera's sharp eyes found mine. "Who's he?"
"I'm guessing our friend with the supersuction hands," I said, and as Kiera lifted her arm and waved the waitress back over, I willed myself not to shoot my little sister a look of deep recrimination. At the same time, I couldn't help but wonder about her words. Why would Johnson disappear around this girl? The way I figured it, he'd want to stay around. Learn about his enemy's assets. And from what little I knew of Kiera, I already considered her a pretty strong addition to Penemue's team.
I cocked my head as a theory played at my mind. "So you can smell demons, huh? Just your generic demon, or can you pick out a particular one?"
She took a long sip of coffee, then rolled her shoulders. "Depends on how good a whiff I get, and whether I've met the little bastard before. This one," she added with a wave toward Rose, "whoever that was didn't stick around long. Marked her and skedaddled. Not a lot of scent there."
“Too bad," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I would have liked to know what demon had a hard-on for her."
She shrugged. "You work with what you got."
That you do. And right then, I was working with some very gnarly theories, starting with the jumping-off point that Johnson had disappeared, or at least that he'd buried himself deep, deep, deep inside of Rose. And now I had to wonder if he was afraid that Kiera and her demon-sniffing nose would recognize him.
I remembered what Johnson had said about no matter where he wandered, he still served Kokbiel, and the pieces began to fall into place. I might be the current double agent in tonight's little drama, but I had a feeling that dubious honor had once fallen on Johnson's head. More to the point, I was thinking that he'd once worked with Clarence, pretending to be on the Penemue team. And considering it was Penemue who'd ended up with the prophetical champion—me—on his team, I think my hypothesis had a lot of weight. Especially when you add to the equation the fact that Johnson had done most of the dirty work to get me here.
It was Lucas who'd taunted my sister until I couldn't stand it any longer. And it was Lucas who had smiled at me, oh so victoriously, when I'd pulled the trigger and slammed a bullet through his heart.
Johnson hadn't sought out Rose because he was a pedophile and she's pretty.
He'd sought her out because of me. Because they needed me. Because I was the one who had to die.
Why me, though?
Had I done something? Had my mother, my father?
I honestly had no idea, and the idea that it might simply be the cosmic luck of the draw didn't sit well with me. I wanted a reason that I'd been thrust into this horror. Someone to blame. Something concrete.
And the reality that I might never know why ate at me.
"Pie," Kiera said, the moment the waitress came over to refill our coffees. "And ice cream. I
need sugar. You got apple?" The waitress nodded, and Kiera looked across the table at me. "You chowing, too?"
"Can I have a hamburger and a milk shake and onion rings?" Rose asked, reminding me that I'd fed her nothing except candy from the motel vending machine since I'd yanked her away from the demonic ceremony early that morning. Save her, then starve her. So much for my amazing skill at nurturing. Wouldn't Mom be proud?
Since I'd been living off Kit Kat bars, too, I ordered the same thing Rose was having, then leaned back and sipped my coffee, trying to decide what to make of my new partner. She slid over until her back was against the wall, then kicked her feet up, her boots landing with a thunk on the tabletop. From two tables over, the waitress glared, but Kiera lazily lifted her hand, then shot her the finger. Then she rolled her head over and looked at me. "I really do try to be good, you know? I mean, my boy Clarence handed me this whole big chance to get my shit together, and you'd think I’d be a little more prissy sweet girl about the whole thing. But that's just not me."
A burly cook started to walk in our direction, and she exhaled loudly, then swung her feet to the ground and sat up straight. "Sometimes I wonder if with what we do, redemption's even really possible."
I licked my lips, wary. "What do you mean?"
She eyed Rose, and I nodded. "It's okay. She knows." Not entirely true. I had yet to have the talk with Rose. But under the circumstances, I think Rose had picked up on the salient details.
"Just all the killing," Kiera said. "I mean, shit, yeah, we're whacking demons, but it's still heavy-duty, you know?"
"Yeah," I said, because I knew exactly what she was talking about. At the same time, I didn't believe a word she was saying. I mean, sure. Maybe Clarence had paired me with a partner who'd been duped just like I'd been—who thought she was out there fighting bad guys so that St. Peter would open those pearly gates up wide. Maybe Clarence would do that, but I didn't believe it.
I hooked an arm around Rose and pulled her close, pretending to focus on comforting my sister. Mostly, though, I just wanted the chance to check Kiera out. She looked human enough, but I knew better than to assume anything. The second demon I'd killed had not only looked human, she'd had Rose's big, innocent eyes. And although that had thrown me for a loop, there hadn't been a single speck of humanity in her.
I wondered if there was any in Kiera. I thought of my hands—of my visions. I could figure it out, I knew. All I had to do was touch, and look. But she'd know I was in there, poking around. I couldn't sneak into minds like a thief in the night. Instead, my entrances were like home invasions, rousting the mind's owner and making my presence very well-known.
There had to be a way to fix that. Because if I could figure out a way to sneak in, I'd be in that much better position to protect Rose, not to mention myself.
And, I thought, I could finally learn the truth about Deacon.
I frowned, then looked down at the tabletop, fearful my thoughts would reflect on my face. The truth was, I felt bad—even disloyal—to still keep Deacon at arm's length. After all, he was the reason I knew the truth about Clarence, about everything, and the old Lily would have hopped on the Deacon train, no questions asked.
The new Lily was more cautious, though. The new Lily had been seriously burned and wasn't inclined to be scorched again.
"So what's your story?" I asked, figuring that at least some bit of truth would filter through the bullshit. She grabbed the saltshaker and spun it on the table, making a pattern of salt on the Formica. "Typical, I guess. I was arrogant and angry and messed up in the head. Did a lot of drugs. Fucked for money. A lot of breaking and entering—I'm great at B-and-E—and I'd fence whatever shit I stole. One night, I'd been out drinking, you know? Ended up on the road. Some jerk cut me off. Got pissed. Gunned it. The next thing I knew, both our cars were going over and over, then I felt this pop in my neck."
I realized I was holding my breath. "You died."
"So they tell me. And it wasn't pretty. Where I ended up, I mean." She shivered a little, her eyes cutting away from mine. Then she shoved the saltshaker away and drew her hands through her short hair. "Anyway, when I woke up, I was in the hospital, and Clarence was there. He said I was getting a second chance."
"Wait a sec," I said. "You woke up in your own body?"
She looked at me like I was from Mars. "Uh, yeah."
"What about your parents? Your friends?"
She lifted a shoulder. "Haven't seen my parents since I was fifteen, so going on ten years now. Still see my friends sometimes, but we have a different groove going on now, you know?"
"Yeah," I said, thinking of all the friends I'd left behind. “I know."
"Pretty fucked-up, huh? But you know what they say about mysterious ways. And here I am now, ready to whup some demon ass." She reached her arms out, clasped her hands, and cracked her knuckles. "Gotta say, I thought you'd be a little more badass."
I lifted my brows. "Excuse me?"
"Oh, come on! That demon was about to whup your pretty little hide. If I hadn't showed up when I did, you and Little Bit would be nothing but a stain on the concrete."
I couldn't deny she had a point. "You didn't catch me at my best."
"Guess not." She nodded at Rose, who had looked up with interest. Not at me or Kiera, but at the waitress, who was now delivering our food. "What's the story with the kid? The demons want her. I got that. But what are you doing with her? Just protecting her, or is there more going on?"
The waitress's eyes went wide, at least until Kiera tilted her head up and stared the girl down. Then she spun around and hurried off, glancing once back over her shoulder before sidling up near the burly cook who'd started coming our way earlier.
I eyed them for a moment, then decided that neither appeared to be about to kick us out, call the cops, or contact the local psychiatric ward. "She's my sister," I said. Since Clarence already knew the scoop, I didn't figure there was any harm in telling Kiera.
"No shit?" She shot another glance toward Rose, then frowned. "So, what? You drag her around on missions and stuff?"
"Not as a general rule, no."
"But today's an exception because?"
"Because it's national Bring Your Sister to Work Day," I snapped. "What's the deal with all the questions?"
She leaned back, hands up, eyes wide. "Shit, chill. Sorry." She took another bite of pie, chewed, swallowed, and pointed her fork at me. "So what do you say? Let's go see what you've got going on."
"You want to go kill demons?"
"No, I wanna go kick puppies," she retorted. "Hell, yeah."
"Oh." I considered that. "So, where exactly does one go to find a demon?"
She shook her head, as if baffled by my very existence.
"Damn, you are green. I thought I was getting paired with some big-shot superchick. What were they doing, hiding you under a log?"
"Something like that," I admitted. "I started out with a mission. Very top secret. Not a lot of opportunity to go out looking for demons on my own."
"Right," she said, with a knowing nod. "You were out there keeping those sons of bitches from opening the Ninth Gate. You're like a legend now among us soldiers."
"Really?" I couldn't help the quick swell of pride. Pride, then guilt. Because I hadn't really done a good thing. I'd done a crap thing, and from the way Kiera was looking at me, she didn't know it. To her, I was some sort of hero.
Except even that probably wasn't true, was it? More likely, she was in on the whole big thing. And to her, I was the biggest sort of fool.
11
“This probably isn't the best time to go demon baiting," I said, casting a significant look toward Rose as we climbed back into Kiera's Pontiac.
"The hell it's not. The beasties have been buzzing lately. The convergence is coming up, and they can feel it, and they're all rooting for their buddies to find the Oris Clef and open the gates up wide. Fortunately, we're not going to let that happen." She raised a hand and waited for me to meet it
with a high five, which I did. Why not? That was my plan, too, after all.
"I'm all for killing demons and stopping the convergence," I admitted. "But that wasn't actually my point." I cocked my head toward the backseat and Rose, remembering what I'd promised my mom and thinking that rabble-rousing the demon population wasn't high on the Keep Your Sister Safe list.
Then again, neither was getting her infected with a demon's essence.
Kiera dug the keys out of her pocket and started the engine. "Oh, please. What? You think seeing a demon turn to goo is going to scar her for life? From what you've said, she's seen worse. Probably be damned cathartic for her."
When she put it that way, I had to agree.
"Besides," she continued, "we're fighting the good fight here. I mean, hell. Forget shielding the kid. You should be training her."
And, once again, she had a point.
Still, every decision I'd made since I'd gone out to kill Lucas Johnson had somehow been tied to me watching out for Rose. How could I justify all my efforts to protect her if I was going to turn around and thrust her into the middle of the fray?
I couldn't—which meant I needed to say no-go to the demon-hunting thing. I needed to be the responsible big sis. And I needed to get my kid sister (and her hitchhiking demon companion) home and into bed.
I knew it, but somehow I couldn't do it. Because once the idea had been planted in my head—once I was thinking about the kill and the dark and that somber, sensual rush that came right after my blade cut them down to goo—well, by then I couldn't seem to do anything else.
I needed the kill. I craved the dark. And I hated myself for what I'd become.
I should go home. I should march through the door, plunk myself down on the couch, and tune the television to the Disney Channel. I needed saccharin to counteract the tug of the demonic inside me. Because it was there, that dark, and it wanted to be fed.
And damned if I didn't want to feed it.