She eyed him critically, then nodded. “How is your Arabic?”
“Nonexistent.”
He could’ve sworn that relief flashed over her prim expression, but her reply was pure sourpuss. “I suppose you focused on the Romance languages first. The novices from America and Western Europe so often do, as those are the easiest for them to learn.”
“That’s true,” he said, refusing to be baited. He’d have bet anything that she wanted to piss him off so bad he’d leave. “I did pick those up first.”
Before working his way west across Asia. Arabic and Swahili were up next, but he wouldn’t say so. He was starting to enjoy watching her bloomers twist into a knot.
“Arabic is spoken by a quarter of a billion humans, novice. You should make an effort to learn it if you plan to be active in this region.”
“Golly gee, Alice. You’re right—I should get on that. Maybe you’ll volunteer to tutor me.”
She slanted him a narrowed look. “I don’t think so.”
Dangerous ground, but he stepped on it. “Do you tutor anyone now?”
“No. How much farther?”
Yeah, now he was pissing her off. Even in these twisting streets, she could estimate distance as well as he could. He made a show of checking his watch and glancing up at the sun before pulling out his GPS. “Okay, yeah. We’ve been walking about one minute. So, go figure, we’ve still got a little less than half a kilometer to go.”
She pulled in a breath through her teeth.
He had to hand it to her; that was pretty brave. A brown haze filled the sky, so God knew what she’d just sucked into her lungs while controlling her temper. Even a Guardian might choke on it.
And it did sound as if she was strangling when she said, “Thank you, novice.”
Jake grinned at her back as she set off at a walk again—smoothly now. Trying to appear inconspicuous, probably, but she still didn’t look completely human. She hadn’t increased her pace to an inhuman speed, but she was practically gliding, as if her limbs were weightless beneath her robe.
Her legs. Jesus. He needed to get his head from under her skirts. Which meant he was going to take a flying leap into a minefield.
“So,” he said, catching up. “They all Ascended, and because of that, you don’t take on new pupils. Tell me, Alice—is that avoiding the situation, or learning to avoid the same outcome?”
Yep. The look she gave him should’ve made mincemeat of his dick.
Should’ve, but didn’t. “You could take me on, get back on that horse, try riding again,” he continued.
“How brave you are to offer, novice. And how generous.”
Mincemeat, and her tone could’ve frozen the rest. “Yeah, I’m all heart. But you wouldn’t have to worry about me—I don’t intend to Ascend anytime soon. And if it makes you feel better, every single person in Caelum that I had sex with decided to Ascend, too.”
“Oh, dear.” She stopped and looked up at him. “You’re so terrible?”
“So good.” He grinned. “Everything after me is a letdown—the only thing better is Heaven. So off they went.”
“And there is your optimism again.” Her lips curved, but she quickly firmed their line and moved past him. “But as I also have no intention of Ascending, I’ll be certain to avoid that situation, as well.”
Yeah. He’d figured that. But a man could hope.
He wasn’t going to leave. Alice fought through her rising guilt as they neared Teqon’s residence. She shouldn’t involve Jake in this, in any way.
What an excellent Guardian he made; choosing to stand beside her, though she gave him ample reason to go. And he’d served as a welcome distraction through the streets, so that she’d had no time to despond over the upcoming confrontation. Instead of arriving at Teqon’s door weakened by doubts and fear, she was fueled by antagonism and no small amount of frustration.
How could she like Jake so well—and yet want to take her blade to his tongue so that he’d never speak again?
Not that it would matter; a Guardian’s tongue would grow back.
Conceal yourself, she signed as they rounded the final corner. I truly don’t think my life is in danger, but he might try to make an example of yours.
Jake appraised her silently, then nodded. I’ll be listening.
She walked briskly across the small square, surprised that Teqon didn’t reside in the more modern and expensive part of the city. Demons were so aware of appearances, and preferred to surround themselves with power and wealth. But perhaps Teqon had chosen it because the disparity of wealth was more obvious here; squalor was a constant neighbor, the gap between them wider.
Her gaze swept the area as she waited for an answer to her knock. A young beggar girl now sat where Jake had been standing. He would have no trouble hearing everything inside Teqon’s house.
Footsteps approached on the opposite side of the door. A human, or Teqon? Though Alice revealed herself when she used a psychic probe to find out, at least she was prepared to face the demon when he opened it.
He’d silvered the hair at his temples, but he still appeared as young and handsome as any film star. More so, perhaps. His lashes were so thick and black that the first time she’d seen them, she’d wondered if he’d lined them with kohl. He was tall, as demons so often made themselves. His business suit of dove gray silk had been tailored perfectly to his form.
But then, through his connection to Legion Laboratories, Teqon was now—as he had only pretended to be when she’d met him—a man of importance and money.
Alice shifted into her own features, and vanished the robes over her dress. “You have not changed at all, demon,” she said in Arabic.
As she’d hoped, Teqon responded in the same language. “But you have, Mrs. Grey. You are stronger, faster, immortal—and I believe you owe me thanks for it.”
“I owe you only one thing, and gratitude it is not.”
He stepped back, holding the door open. “Then come inside, and we shall discuss how you will pay me.”
His house was of wood and marble, with rich, colorful fabrics upholstering the furniture. There were humans in the house—servants, Alice guessed. A wife, perhaps. Though they could have no children of their own, some demons augmented their masquerade by marrying into human families.
As she’d expected, the main rooms of the house opened up to an interior courtyard. A fountain bubbled near its center—there would likely be vegetation, shelter, insects.
“Shall we speak in the courtyard? I prefer to feel the sun.”
Teqon gave her a mocking smile. “And there is no roof, so you might escape.”
“If I must.”
The demon turned his back on her as he led the way outside. Rage and shame burned in Alice’s throat. Any other demon would have been in pieces on the floor after offering such an easy target.
She swallowed it down, and sat gingerly on the edge of a stone bench. Jasmine spilled over the giant urns at each end. Behind her, a date tree bent under the weight of the fruit on its branches.
Alice smoothed her fingers over her skirts. In the hollow of her knee, she felt Lucy anchor a dragline and begin to descend along her calf.
At the fountain, Teqon turned to face her, a frown marring his handsome features. “I do not remember you being so rigid, Mrs. Grey. I chose you because you chafed against structure—against authority. It made you more likely to carry out your task.”
“After one hundred and twenty years, perhaps I have been chafed smooth.”
“I doubt it.” He slipped his hands into his pockets. “You must have received my message.”
He did not, she noted, ask about the demons who had delivered it. “I did.”
“And you intend to follow through.”
It wasn’t a question. Because she hadn’t attempted to slay him, he must have been certain of her answer.
“Is there nothing else you want? There must be something that would make you reconsider.”
“And
release you from your bargain?” Teqon laughed, a short and hard sound. “No.”
“What of the prophecy?”
His dark eyes began to glow crimson, but his hard smile remained. “That prophecy is all the more reason to fulfill your part.”
Lucy reached the ground, and Alice felt the widow’s indecision. Alice hesitated, too, for just a moment. But she had nothing that might sway Teqon now, and she doubted he would deal on speculation. Their interview here was at an end.
Alice stood and lightly opened her Gift, urging the spider toward the date tree. Be safe, little one.
Teqon’s hand was around her throat an instant later. Her boots left the ground as he lifted her.
“You used your Gift.” His fingers shape-shifted, became talons. “What is your Gift, Mrs. Grey? What have you done?”
She pushed Lucy faster. Climb. Climb and hide.
The demon tried to dig his claws in. His eyes widened with surprise and anger as they scraped across her collar without tearing through.
He settled for crushing her throat. Pain screamed, left her dizzy.
“Is it impervious to everything?” Teqon studied her dress, then casually slipped a dagger between her ribs. Something inside tore, collapsed.
Alice beat back her panic, and the black wave that threatened consciousness. He hadn’t aimed for her heart. Just her lungs. He wasn’t going to kill her. He couldn’t risk killing her.
He smiled. “It’s not.”
She only needed to break his hold. Needed to focus through the agony, and call for her weapon so that she could cut through his arm.
“Let her go, demon.”
Oh, dear heavens. Jake. He’d teleported behind Teqon, his sword against the demon’s neck.
Teqon tightened his grip on her throat, gave her a shake. He spoke in English, just as Jake had. “Do you think slaying me would save her, Guardian?”
Alice recognized the victorious glint in Jake’s eyes. It was an easy kill. Jake had the advantage of surprise, of Teqon’s neck already on the edge of his sword, of Alice being in a position that—though she was injured—wasn’t mortally dangerous.
And any other time, she would have told him to take it. Alice lifted her hand and signed, Don’t kill him. When Jake frowned and the edge of his blade drew blood, she frantically added, I beg you, please.
His jaw tightened, but he moved toward her, keeping his sword at Teqon’s throat. His arm circled her waist. “Let her go.”
Teqon unclenched his hand, and Alice’s head fell back against Jake’s shoulder—her muscles too damaged to hold it up.
“Only because she cannot serve our purpose if she is dead. We are fated to take the throne in Hell and return to Glory—”
“Yeah, yeah. Save it,” Jake said, backing up. “I’ve heard it before from your buddy Sammael, and thought it was bullshit then, too.”
“I wonder if you’ll say that when I take your heart, fledgling.” Teqon’s gaze shifted to her face. “You will pay your debt, Mrs. Grey.”
With a shudder, she called in the demon’s heart from her cache. It was still as warm as when she’d cut it from his chest in the temple.
She tossed the organ, and it landed with a plop at Teqon’s feet.
Its blood dripped from her fingers as she signed, I will include one hundred twenty years of interest, and I’ll collect it from all of your associates. There will be no one left to return to Glory. Reconsider, demon.
He shook his head. “Never.”
“Are you done?” Jake’s voice was cold and flat in her ear.
Yes. She gripped the hand at her waist. His Gift punched through her, and sent her spinning again.
She was bound.
Around them, sunlight filtered through a jungle canopy. The air was thick as sweat. Jake didn’t know where the fuck they were. Didn’t care.
He didn’t wait until Alice steadied, could barely contain his anger. She didn’t flinch when he leaned over, his face an inch from hers.
“You went in there, knowing that if he killed you, you’d be trapped in Hell for eternity.” Trapped, because she’d made a bargain, and obviously hadn’t fulfilled her side of it. But hadn’t said a thing, though Jake had been outside, ready to charge in if things got too fucking hot. “Knowing that if I had killed him, I’d be the one sealing your goddamn fate. That as soon as you died, you’d be down Below with your fucking head frozen into the ground. Because you didn’t say a fucking word to warn me.”
Her blank expression didn’t change. And she couldn’t talk, because the demon bastard had crushed her goddamn throat.
I told you he wouldn’t kill me, she signed with bloody fingers. And you heard; I still serve a purpose.
“What fucking purpose?”
His shout echoed through the trees. Birds startled, took wing. A monkey screeched in the distance.
Alice’s lips pinched together. A Guardian who loses his temper risks losing all.
He about lost it then. Jake spun away from her, his jaw aching with the force of his clenching teeth. Yelling at her didn’t help. And, Jesus—he could smell the blood that had poured down her side. The wound was sealed and healing, but it must still hurt.
He’d been thinking of getting to a Healer. Instead he’d teleported here, ended up in bumfuck—
He registered the trees, the river. Recognized them.
Oh, shit. Of all the goddamn bad luck. He’d gone for a healer, all right. A dead one.
Bobby Wolk. The medic had carried a picture of his girl in his jacket over his heart—wrapped in plastic so it wouldn’t get wet. Out here in the boonies, everything had gotten wet, started to rot.
And not two yards from where Jake was standing, a land mine had once been hidden beneath rotting leaves. Shrapnel had ripped off half of the medic’s chest, his face, shredded the picture of his girl.
It had been quicker than what the rest of them had faced.
Jesus. Jake rubbed his eyes, said quietly, “Whose heart are you bound to deliver?”
It had to be a heart. That much had been clear when she’d thrown the demon’s at Teqon’s feet.
She didn’t answer. Couldn’t, since he wasn’t looking at her. It didn’t matter, though. Despite Teqon’s threat to Jake, there was only one heart that any demon would care about having.
“Michael’s?”
He turned as he said the name, and caught the way her eyes closed, as if she was trying to block out the truth. Even expecting it, the confirmation stunned him.
“Jesus,” he whispered. “‘Loyalty is the utmost virtue’? How the hell could you make such a bargain?”
She looked at him. Just stared at him, her eyes huge. Her mouth, her fingers didn’t move. Bruises mottled her throat.
Jake shook his head. Wanted to be sick. Or to kill something. He faced the river instead, and began walking. He wouldn’t look back.
“There’s a Gate twenty-eight miles south,” he said. “Try to make it there without betraying the rest of us.”
CHAPTER 7
Two hours into the weekly poker game at the Special Investigations warehouse, Jake was out three thousand dollars—and having a difficult time giving a shit.
Just as he’d hardly noticed when, thirty minutes after leaving the Black Widow behind in Vietnam, Alejandro had stabbed a sword through his thigh. Throw in Drifter’s fist and a cracked cheekbone, and a sick tension in his gut that wouldn’t go away—and Jake had one creepy Guardian as the reason behind his clusterfuck of a day.
He just couldn’t get her face out of his head, the vision of her haunted eyes.
And her goddamn bargain.
“Jake, sweetie.” He glanced up; Pim was smiling at him across the table. If her legs had been long enough, she’d probably have kicked his shin beneath it. “Get your head out of your ass and ante up.”
“And don’t even think about leaving this table,” Mackenzie added, glancing up at Jake through bangs that reached his black-lined eyes. Since he’d been added to a team th
at traveled to various vampire communities, warning them about nephilim and demons, Mackenzie had been playing up his Goth look. “You haven’t had a streak of luck this bad since . . . well, ever. Not since I’ve been working here, anyway.”
“Oh, like you’d ever win without a hammerspace and speed, vampire.” Becca stuck her tongue out at Mackenzie, but a second later the gesture changed from a childish taunt to a suggestive wag.
“Jesus, Becca. Put that back in.” Jake tossed his chips in, cursing the day he’d become the flippin’ den mother. After Drifter had moved in with Charlie and stopped coming to San Francisco as often, the job had somehow fallen to Jake. Now he was the one who oversaw the other novices as they played, giving them pointers—on using sleight of hand to pull in a card from their hammerspace, on noticing when someone else did, and honing their psychic abilities to sense someone cheating or bluffing.
Pim could’ve done it. She was almost as good a player as Jake was. Older, too—even if she hadn’t been a Guardian as long.
Jake checked his watch. Another hour, and then he was on his own time.
“In a hurry to get somewhere, Jake?”
Ah, crap. Pim’s cute face had taken on an innocent expression. Jake usually ended up paying someone a fiver after she got that look.
At least he usually got a laugh out of it, too. Pim loved gossip almost as much as she loved the testicle-withering teenybop music she was playing on the rec room’s stereo, and when they’d been stuck in Caelum after the Ascension—two of only seven novices left—shooting the shit with her had been part of the reason he’d managed to stay sane. Though her sole goal in life seemed to be busting his balls, she was, as his granddad might have said, good people.
“Nope,” Jake said easily. “Just wondering why it’s twenty hundred hours, and no one is heading down to the corridor to relieve Jeeves.”
Becca began dealing out cards, and she said, “Because—thanks to you and Pim—our security shifts are eight hours now.”
Jake leaned back in his chair, staring at Pim. That must mean that they were putting her on active duty, just like he was with Drifter. “No shit? They’re sending you out?”
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