by Jane Kindred
She sat in the car for a moment as people continued to walk up the drive to the chapel from the bottom while others who had only come for photo opportunities began to head down. She’d lost her place in the Covent and now her last refuge within the church had been taken from her. She could attend the services glamoured, but God would know who she was.
Tears prickled behind her eyes and she blinked them away, taking the note from her purse to look at it once more. Bell, book and candle. The final excommunication of the witch. If Nemesis was doing Carter’s work, Ione had him to thank for all of it. Sitting in his prison cell, Carter was destroying her life piece by piece. This “Lorelei Carlisle” who was visiting him had to be Nemesis, and Ione was going to find out who she was.
As Ione pulled out of her parking space on the shoulder of the drive, the car seemed to lurch forward, accelerating even when she lifted her foot off the gas pedal. Ione stepped on the brake but the car only seemed to pick up speed, as though the accelerator was stuck. People walking on the side of the road edged farther onto the shoulder, staring at her like she was a lunatic as she barreled down the twisting drive among the walls of red rock, pumping the brake pedal and trying not to lose control of the car on the turns. Another car pulled out ahead of her at the bottom and Ione laid on the horn, swerving around it and narrowly missing another coming up. Even with her window up she could hear the expletives being hurled in her direction.
Hitting the relatively flat grade slowed the car down some, but the brakes were still useless, and with the accelerator apparently stuck in place, she was far from out of the woods. There was a stop sign coming up with potential cross traffic. Thinking quickly, she signaled right and swerved around the corner and onto the narrow shoulder of the residential road, pulled the hand brake and turned off the ignition as the car lurched to a stop and the engine sputtered down. Her heart was racing, but at least the engine wasn’t anymore.
Afraid to start it up again, she sat on the side of the road for a good fifteen minutes before she finally got up the nerve. The car purred when she turned the ignition as if nothing was wrong with it. After pulling out slowly and turning around, she tried the brakes. They worked like a charm.
The car showed no sign of problems for the rest of the drive home, which meant the defect had most likely been magical and not mechanical. Another little “gift” from Nemesis, no doubt, to make sure Ione got the message. Whoever this girl with the pageboy was, Ione was having thoughts of repaying her in ways neither the church nor the Covent would approve of.
As she pulled into her driveway something moved in the dull stone-colored shadows of the falling twilight, a hooded shape lurking in the entryway. Instead of opening the garage door, she parked in front. Better not to give some creep access to the inside of the house before she could close it. She’d started carrying the Glock in her purse, and she slid it out, acting like she was searching her purse for a compact. With the gun at her side, Ione got out of the car.
As the shape moved forward out of the shadows, Ione raised the pistol. “Not another step.”
The hooded figure paused, hands rising in the air. “Seriously? You’re going to bloody shoot me again?”
Chapter 10
Ione lowered the gun and clicked the safety on, jade eyes leveled on him in the fading light. “Dammit, Dev. Why are you skulking in front of my house in a hoodie?”
He tried to ignore the odd tingling that seemed to animate his nerves as she came closer. “Sorry, in a what?”
“Your sweatshirt.”
Dev blinked at her and glanced down at the garment. “You mean my jumper?”
Ione sighed. “You’re lucky I watch PBS.”
“I have no idea what you’re trying to say.”
“I know, and it’s oddly amusing.” She dropped the gun into her handbag and unlocked the door. “Are you going to tell me what you’re doing here?” Ione stepped inside and turned on the light in the entryway before punching in her code on the alarm panel. “Did you forget something? Another wall you wanted to destroy perhaps?”
Dev cringed. “I—think I owe you an apology.”
“Are you going to deliver it standing on my porch?”
“Well—”
“Dev, just come in.”
He cleared his throat as he stepped inside, lowering his hood as Ione closed the door. Oh, hoodie. He’d gone for a run after finishing up interviews at the temple.
“That wasn’t why I came by, actually.”
Ione folded her arms. “Why did you come by? Actually.”
“I have some news, and you weren’t answering your telephone.”
She glanced toward the blinking light in the kitchen behind her. “Yeah, I guess the machine may have gotten full. I turned the ringer off.” She prompted Dev when he didn’t continue. “So what is this news?”
“Oh.” It was annoying how he kept losing his train of thought when he looked at her, especially as it didn’t seem to be Kur’s doing, after all. “There are several things, actually, and...could we perhaps sit...?” His eyes widened as he took in the immaculate living room. “How did you...?”
“I just wiggled my nose and, poof, everything was back to normal.”
Foolishly, Dev gaped at her, almost believing it until he realized it was a reference to the American television program Bewitched.
The corner of her mouth lifted in a devious smile. “My sister’s boyfriend owns a construction company. They’re very efficient.”
“Right. Rafael Diamante was here.” Dev had to work to keep the heat from his face. Kur’s memories had begun filtering to him as soon as he’d left Ione’s house the previous afternoon. “That was one of the things I wanted to talk about.”
Ione slipped off her shoes and nodded toward the couch. “Have a seat. Would you like something to drink? I have sparkling water and tea.”
Dev followed her lead in leaving his shoes by the door before following her into the living room. “A pot of tea would be lovely.” As soon as he’d said it, he realized she’d probably meant iced, but Ione put the kettle on without hesitation while he sat. “The first bit of news is that I’ve found out who’s been visiting Carter Hamilton in prison.”
Ione glanced at him over the open countertop as she took two boxes of bagged tea from the cupboard. “Lorelei Carlisle.” She held up the boxes. “Earl Grey or Darjeeling?”
“Earl Grey, thank you. How did you know about Lorelei Carlisle? Is she a relative?”
“Not that I’m aware of. I doubt that’s even her real name. Phoebe’s gone to work for a private investigator, so she was able to check out the visitor logs. How did you find out?”
Dev cleared his throat. “Well, I...bribed someone.”
She tended to frown at him most of the time, but her unexpected laugh transformed her features, her jade eyes recalling the pleasure in them Dev was trying desperately to forget. The kettle whistled, saving him from having to meet those eyes until he’d gotten himself together.
He jumped up when she came around the partition carrying the laden tray. “Let me help you with that.” Despite the bagged tea, she had a proper tea service, complete with creamer and sugar bowl, and had even included a plate of what looked to be lemon-cream biscuits.
Dev set the tray on the coffee table and waited for her to sit in the chair adjacent to it before he took his seat on the couch.
He might as well get this over with. “Before I say anything else, I want to thank you for how you handled Kur. You would have been well within your rights to shoot the demon straight between the eyes and call it a day.”
“That’s what I was aiming for.”
“Ah. Well, at any rate, you didn’t finish us off, and you cared for the wound. And however you managed to cage the demon again—which I still don’t quite understand—I’m indebted to you. An
d I suppose I owe you an explanation.”
Ione poured the tea. “I probably owe you one, as well. Except I don’t really have one. I picked you up that night at the bar—”
“I thought I’d picked you up.” Dev gave her a half smile as he took a lump of sugar.
“You thought you’d picked Kylie up, but in actual fact I was the one doing the picking up.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that point.”
Ione shrugged and poured milk into her cup. “The point is, I had no idea who you were or that the Covent was sending anyone to investigate me. When I saw you the next day, I recognized you, of course. But I didn’t expect you to come back to the bar.”
He stirred his tea deliberately, studying her. “Why were you glamoured?” It was a spell he’d never mastered.
Ione took a sip of her tea and a bite of biscuit, delaying her answer. “I don’t like to be judged. As the high priestess of the Covent, I have a reputation to uphold. But there are some nights when I need to not worry about that reputation.”
“So you go out as Kylie, and Kylie can have as much fun as she wants.”
She nodded, giving him a challenging look. “I suppose I sound ‘a bit mental’ as you’d say on your side of the pond.”
“Yes.”
She paused in taking another bite, obviously surprised he’d agreed with her.
“But I live with a demon, so who am I to throw stones?” Dev sipped his tea, formulating his thoughts. “And the second time?”
Ione concentrated on her cup. “I suppose I got carried away.” She set the cup in its saucer and glanced up. “So what about you? How did you become bound to a demon?”
“That’s rather a long story.”
“I’ve got plenty of time.”
He hadn’t really come there to bare his soul to her. He was more interested in determining how she’d managed to control his demon. But he’d endangered her life and trashed her house. He supposed he owed her the truth.
“When I was eighteen, I started my apprenticeship with the Covent under an elder whose methods were rather...unconventional. After I’d spent several months with him learning the basics of the Craft, he took me into his confidence. He’d spent his later years delving into the art of conjuring.” Dev focused on her eyes, watching him with their usual controlled expression, giving nothing away. “I was faced with the choice of reporting him to the Covent and ending my apprenticeship or becoming an accessory to unsanctioned magic. I was young and stupid. And intrigued. I chose poorly.”
“By conjuring, you mean...?”
“Summoning spirits. The dead—and other entities.” Dev finished his tea and Ione poured him another. “I suppose what particularly intrigued me was that he was successful. Until that point, I’d assumed there were no such things as demons. But Simon had one. An ancient Sumerian demon in dragon form. He kept it caged within a warded circle, studying it. His motto was that one couldn’t effectively use magic for good if one couldn’t harness its opposite. Unfortunately he couldn’t harness it for long.
“Something happened and the wards were broken. I’m not sure whether he thought he could control the demon and broke them himself or whether the demon somehow managed to overcome them, but I came down to the study looking for Simon and found him lying twisted in a pool of blood. I thought the demon had escaped, but it was lurking in the shadows and, when I bent to help Simon, it attacked and nearly killed me.
“When I awoke in hospital I thought that was the worst it had done. But I discovered later it had become a part of me. Luckily, I was alone when I transformed, and no one else was injured. I wasn’t even sure what had happened at first, but I had a suspicion. But when it happened again, I’d rigged up a camera to record it in advance. At the time, Kur was apparently in a weakened state and my consciousness was able to reassert itself after a bit and return me to my own form. That’s when I had the warding sigil to cage it permanently tattooed on my body. And it’s been physically dormant ever since, though it seems to have grown stronger mentally over the years.”
Dev had been focusing on the tea tray, temporarily delivered straight back into that time as he related it, almost forgetting Ione was there. But when he looked up, he was surprised to see a look of skepticism on her face. Surely she couldn’t doubt the demon’s power over him after encountering it herself.
She set down her untouched cup. “That’s not how it happened.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Rhea saw what happened when she read your tattoo. Kur was tortured and bound to you forcibly.”
Dev’s mouth dropped open and he couldn’t seem to make it work. What she was saying was impossible. Because he had been there. He remembered...almost nothing.
He shook his head. “No. It killed Simon and attacked me. No one tortured it.”
She was studying him, trying to gauge whether he was lying.
“There’s a mass of scar tissue at the base of my spine from its claws where it tore its way inside. I’ll show it to you if you don’t believe me.”
“I’ve seen the scarring at the base of your spine. And it isn’t claw marks.”
“What are you talking about? Of course it is.” He’d risen to his feet, his agitation amplified by Kur’s own inside him.
Ione looked up at him calmly. “Have you ever taken a good look at the scar?”
“It’s not exactly in a place I can easily see, but I can feel it and I’ve gotten a good enough look in a mirror to know what I’m feeling.” And what he was feeling now was defensive, as if she was trying to take something from him, to change what he knew.
“Your flesh is burned. It’s a brand.”
“No.”
“Some kind of ancient symbol I don’t recognize. Maybe it’s Sumerian.”
“You’re out of your mind.” He’d had enough of this. She was completely mental. Dev headed for the door, grabbing his shoes on the way.
“I think your mentor died in the act of binding the demon to you. Kur was in agony, and I’m guessing you were, too.”
Dev reached for the door handle but it slipped from his fingers and a mournful sound rose from his throat. He thought for a moment it was Kur—until he realized it was himself. Kur was merely observing his breakdown.
Dropping his shoes, Dev turned with his back to the door and collapsed against it, sliding down to sit with his knees raised and his head in his hands. It was true. Every word of it. He hadn’t allowed Kur to share those images with him. He’d suppressed what he recalled because Simon wouldn’t do that to him.
Simon had pretended to be injured. It was the demon’s blood. He’d told Dev to open the cage, to collar the beast while it lay injured itself—stabbed by Simon in self-defense, he’d said. Dev had stepped in and something had seared into him from behind like the fire of the demon’s claws. But the demon had been lying on the floor of the cage in front of him.
Ione was beside him. “Dev? God, I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. I should have kept my mouth shut.”
She placed a hand on his shoulder and he reached for her blindly. He needed her touch. He was going mad.
Ione dropped to her knees and put her arms around him and Dev found her mouth with his. He gathered her against him, drinking her in, moaning into her then drawing back, afraid he was presuming. But Ione climbed over his lap and pulled him to her by the collar and he was lost for a few blissful minutes in her kiss.
Until Ione broke the spell.
She took her mouth away and made him look at her as he tried to reach for her once more. “Dev. Dev. I don’t think this is what you need right now.”
“Don’t tell me what I bloody need!” The sharp rebuke merely proved her point. He leaned his head back against the door with a thud, staring at the ceiling.
“For the record, it
’s taking a lot of willpower for me not to just ignore what you need and keep doing what I want.” Ione slid off his lap and stood, holding a hand down to him.
Dev took it and let her pull him to his feet. “What you want?” He laughed bitterly. “You can’t even stand me.”
Ione folded her arms. “I’m not sure where you got that idea. Was it while you had me on top of the washer with my arms hooked over my head or while I was facedown and tied to the headboard having four orgasms?”
Dev had opened his mouth to point out that it was Kylie he’d been engaged in those activities with, but he paused as the last bit registered. “You had four orgasms? I thought the second was just one...really long one.”
She gave him a teasing wink. “I’ll show you how it works later.” Before he could react to that, she took his hand and headed back to the living room. “Come sit down.”
Dev looked down at their hands where the live current seemed to dance between them. “Your skin, it’s...”
“Electrifying?” Ione drew him to the couch. “Not bragging. You have the same effect on me. I think Kur’s blood has mixed with your own and it responds to the Lilith blood in mine. As mine does to yours.”
He sat beside her, bemused.
“I’m not sure what it means, but I’m not going to bother trying to figure it out right now. Suffice it to say, you’re the last person I should be attracted to. You’ve been sent to take everything away from me. You think I enabled a necromancer and a serial killer.”
“That’s not exactly—”
“And yet I find you irresistible.”
Dev smiled despite himself. “You did describe me as—‘so hot it’s almost cruel,’ I believe your words were.”
Ione raised an eyebrow, her cheeks tinged with pink. “You heard that, did you?”
“A few things came back to me after Kur settled, yes.”