Demon Bound

by Meljean Brook

  “Then how did you return?”

  Though his voice and touch were gentle, Alice hissed in a breath when his fingertips skimmed over the symbols. She saw Irena’s eyes narrow into green daggers; they were, she thought uneasily, directed at Michael’s back.

  “We found a Gate. And Khavi.”

  His fingers stilled.

  “Who?” Irena asked, her voice sharp.

  “One of the grigori. I briefly spoke of her; she is Zakril’s sister,” Michael said, stepping back. His gaze didn’t leave Alice’s face. “I cannot heal this with my Gift. It has to be removed—and cleansed.”

  Jake sucked in a breath. “Tell me you’ll do it with water.”

  “I cannot.”

  Alice felt the blood drain from her face. She grabbed for Jake’s hand, gripped it tightly—for support or to prevent his response, she didn’t know.

  “Perhaps,” she ventured, “we can wait until—”

  “It is best done as soon as possible.”

  Her chin lifted. “Very well.”

  Michael’s features softened. “Fortunately, you resisted—and so your body resisted it, as well. The sword pierced deeply into the muscle, but the corruption has not spread. Once it has been cleansed, it will heal naturally. A few hours at most.”

  She nodded, and Michael turned, signaled to Alejandro. Alice glanced at Ethan, willed him to look at her. His face had paled, and she realized that Jake had been signing, telling the others either what had happened to them—or how Michael intended to heal her.

  It must have been the latter. Her green eyes glittering, Irena jerked her head toward Michael’s temple. “Come with me, Alice. I will prepare you.”

  She finally caught Ethan’s gaze. Please, she mouthed silently. I don’t want Jake to see me like that.

  Facedown, again—possibly held down. Cut into and burned, again. She knew he felt responsible for the first; he would this, too.

  Surprise moved across Ethan’s expression. When he gave a short nod, she slipped her hand from Jake’s, faced him.

  Knowing it would appear false, she did not attempt a smile at Jake. “I hope you and Lilith will have good news for me when this is finished.”

  His jaw clenched. “Yeah. I’ll drop it off, then go back for it when she’s done with the translation.”

  Ethan came up beside her, and as she’d hoped, he bluffed his way through. “I reckon it’ll take us longer than that. I’m heading there to tell Castleford what Michael had to say. I figure you can fill them in on your trip at the same time.”

  “I will do the same here while I’m being healed,” Alice said. If she could speak at all.

  Jake looked from her face to Ethan’s. Not fooled, she knew, for an instant.

  “Please,” she said softly. “The translation is important to me. And I would prefer if you were the one to explain to Ethan why it is necessary. I fear I haven’t the courage.”

  “Yeah, right.” Jake closed his eyes, and relief slid through her when he added, “All right, goddess. You need mice, too? More vampire blood?”

  “Yes.” Dear heavens, Nefertari must be so very hungry. “And if you could stop by my quarters—”

  “Consider it done.” He took a step back, then another. “If I can’t jump when she does, you got any advice on how to get out alive?”

  “Yes.” Now her smile was genuine. She laced her fingers together, so that she would not hold her hand out to him. “Run faster than Ethan.”

  Michael’s temple was not partitioned into rooms, but was an open space separated into living—and practicing—areas. Irena had already set up a sterile metal table amid a collection of mismatched furniture, carelessly tossing sofas and armchairs aside to make room.

  Given that there was a large, open floor next to Michael’s weapons display, Alice assumed that Irena had been one of those displeased by everything he’d revealed to them.

  “Alice.”

  She looked around to find Drusilla with her novice, Pim. For once, the Healer wasn’t bobbing.

  “We haven’t seen an injury like this,” she said quietly. “Do you mind if we observe?”

  “Of course not.” Alejandro, Michael, Irena. What were two more?

  And how contrary she was, for now she wished that she had not sent Jake away. She’d convinced herself it was for the best, but after looking at the table, she thought that clinging to his hand might be best, too.

  Just as he’d held hers when the demons had struck the wings from his back.

  “Michael,” she said, and wondered if her expression was as cold as her voice sounded. Wondered if they could see the rage that lingered inside her. “Belial cut off his wings.”

  She projected the image of Jake on his knees, and felt the dark touch of Michael’s mind against hers.

  The temperature did not drop, but Pim visibly shivered as ice speared from Michael’s psychic scent.

  “I will demand payment,” he said softly.

  She nodded. Beside the table, Irena held up a robe of blue silk.

  “Remove your clothes. It is better to ruin this than your dress.”

  Alice pressed her lips together. Reluctantly, she began to unbutton the small fastenings at her throat.

  Irena’s gaze shifted to Michael and Alejandro, and she snapped, “Turn, the both of you. If you look at her, I will stab your eyes.” Her tone barely softened as she added, “And you as well, Dru. Pim.”

  Alice’s throat swelled with gratitude. Blast. She would not weep before a blade touched her flesh. She heard movement behind her, and when Irena appeared satisfied and closed her own eyes, Alice vanished her dress. After pulling on the robe, she climbed onto the table and lay on her stomach.

  Irena called in a knife. “How much do you need to see, Michael?”

  “A hand span around the symbols.”

  Alice quickly braided her hair, pushed it to the side. Irena cut a large circle in the silk robe, exposing her shoulder.

  Irena’s fingers brushed her nape. “If you like, I will snap your neck, so that you feel nothing until your spine heals. Michael and Olek—Alejandro—will have finished by then.”

  The thought of having no control over her body frightened Alice more than the coming pain. “No.”

  “Take this, then.” A thick strip of leather appeared between Irena’s fingers. “Unless you want to scream.”

  She did, but not here. Not for this. She placed the strip between her teeth and bit down. From the corner of her eye, she saw Pim slide her hand into Drusilla’s.

  “Now be quick, or I’ll kill you both,” Irena said over Alice’s head. Irena kneeled in front of the table, met Alice’s eyes. “And do not fear. If they are slow, I will give you his heart.”

  Alice smiled around the leather. Whose? she signed.

  Irena shrugged and took Alice’s hands in her own. “Either one.”

  Alice might have given him the go-ahead to spill the truth about her bargain, but Jake had a feeling she’d only pulled that out so he wouldn’t argue about leaving her. So if she was still uneasy about telling Drifter, then it was better all around if Drifter figured it out for himself.

  Halfway to Odin’s Courtyard, Drifter broke the silence between them. “Teqon’s got her bound, I reckon.”

  “Yep.”

  “She supposed to kill Michael?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Meaning?”

  “If she can find a way to give Michael’s heart to Teqon without killing him, that’d get her out of it.”

  “Son of a bitch.” Drifter shook his head. “She looking at the prophecy in hopes of finding something to exchange?”

  “Yep.”

  “And that’s what you’ve got for translating.”

  “I do.”

  “She bargained to save her husband?”

  Husband? More like a fucking crybaby. “Yeah.”

  “So she figured herself yellow for not fighting.”

  “Yep.”

  Drifter swore again.
After a few more steps, he looked over at Jake. “It sure is interesting that we ain’t flying. Your wings broken?”

  “Something like that. You in a hurry?” Jake wasn’t. He had several hours to kill—through torture. His heart was back there with her, and the gaping hole in his chest widened with every step. His head was probably imagining something worse than reality. Just a little cut, a little burn.

  Yeah, and if he told himself that enough, maybe at the end of several hours, he’d believe it.

  “I don’t reckon I am.” Drifter pulled his hat lower over his eyes. “She sent me a look at her spider. It stood damn near past my knee. There any chance she was fooling me with that image?”

  “Nope.”

  With all of the Guardians up in Caelum and the vampires sleeping, Special Investigations was quiet.

  Jake stuck his head into Lilith’s empty office and frowned. “Is it a weekend?”

  Drifter nodded, looking queasy. Not just from the jump—Nefertari had been hungry. Mostly, Jake thought she’d been kind of cute, but Hell had put things in perspective.

  A second after they teleported to Hugh and Lilith’s house, Jake projected an image of the giant mama spider and her babies. Drifter was still swaying when a barefoot Hugh opened the door.

  Tomato and garlic scented the air. From the kitchen, Jake heard water boiling, a sauce bubbling.

  He’d forgotten that Hugh and Lilith needed food. But then, it was hard to think of them as human.

  Hugh sized up Drifter, and smiled a little. “Hungry?”

  “I don’t reckon I’ll eat for another century. You ever seen a giant tarantula hunt down a few itty-bitty mice?”

  “No. Perhaps Lilith has—although I doubt what she saw hunted mice.” His gaze swept over Jake. Hugh’s expression didn’t change, but Jake sensed a new tension in him. “I don’t need to ask if it was difficult.”

  Because it was Hell, or because Jake looked different to him? “It could have been worse.”

  Hugh nodded. “Alice was with you?”

  “She’s up in Caelum now.”

  “And you want to return soon.” He stepped back, gestured for them to come in. “I’ll get Lilith.”

  “Okay—No, wait. Hugh.” He frowned, dragged through his memory. Khavi, standing in front of them. His arms wrapped around Alice. The painful dread that had flashed through her psychic scent. “Before I forget . . . what does this mean?”

  Hoping he didn’t screw it up, he parroted the first line Khavi had spoken to Alice, the one that had sent despair crashing through her.

  Hugh’s brow furrowed, and he echoed the words a few times, changing inflections until Jake nodded.

  “Yeah. That sounds right. Is it Greek?”

  “Yes, an old dialect. Someone said this to Alice?”

  Jake nodded.

  Hugh frowned. “Is she bound by a bargain?”

  Ice slipped through him. Had Khavi told Alice something about the outcome of it? “Yeah. What was it?”

  Hugh looked at Jake and sighed heavily. “They told her that because she does not fulfill her bargain, you will die.”

  “Huh.” Jake called in a toothpick, began chewing. He worked the exchange through, considered alternate meanings. And every way he looked at it added up to the same thing. “That sucks ass.”

  But Alice’s reaction to the news had been pretty sweet. He clung to that thought, and followed Hugh inside.

  For decades, Jake had only seen Hugh wear a monk’s robe, so the bare feet weren’t so unexpected. But seeing Lilith in cargo pants and a Hell’s Angels T-shirt, sitting cross-legged on an ottoman and twirling spaghetti onto her fork, was like stepping into the Twilight Zone.

  And it didn’t help that as Jake stood through his debriefing, Sir Pup was sniffing at his jeans and rubbing his huge heads up and down his legs. But at least the hellhound didn’t go for his crotch, and the wicked amusement in Lilith’s eyes whenever she glanced at the puppy was familiar enough that Jake didn’t feel compelled to teleport around, searching for a way back to his own dimension.

  There was a long silence after he finished. Drifter stood in front of a large painting of Caelum, his thumbs hooked into his suspenders. Hugh sat on the edge of his blue sofa, his elbows braced on his knees, his empty plate in his hands. Lilith swirled the red wine in her glass, her expression thoughtful.

  Finally, she glanced over at Drifter. “I’m waiting to hear the rest.”

  “Well, there ain’t much to add.”

  “Did Michael even tell you half of that?” Hugh looked doubtful.

  “All of it,” Drifter said. When Lilith’s eyes widened, Drifter admitted, “I’m still working through my own surprise that he volunteered so much. And I’ll tell you, not everyone was happy to hear that Michael is Belial’s son.”

  “I imagine not,” Hugh said dryly.

  “And everything else Michael told us matches up to what Khavi told Jake. Michael didn’t leave anything out.”

  “Did he tell you anything more?” Lilith asked.

  “Not much. I figure the only bit Michael filled in was why Anaria thought she’d wipe out an army.”

  “Does it matter? She killed humans, and it wasn’t in self-defense. We wouldn’t give vampires any leniency if they did the same. We shouldn’t the grigori.”

  Funny to hear a former demon saying exactly what Jake thought—but since she did, he didn’t have to. He shifted his weight, trying to ignore the nuzzling behind his knee. If Sir Pup started breathing heavily, nothing was going to stop Jake from jumping.

  Jake hadn’t even detected any scent coming from Lyta, but the next time he came back from Hell smelling anything like a female hellhound, his flippin’ clothes were heading straight into an incinerator.

  Drifter shook his head. “No, Michael wasn’t explaining his decision—her killing them was reason enough for her execution. This was what came up regarding the question of why it was such a bad idea to have her take Hell’s throne.”

  Lilith’s brows arched. “Because she’s a psychopath?”

  “That would hardly make a difference,” Hugh said dryly. “Hell has a long tradition of being ruled by one.”

  Yeah. Being psycho was probably either a requirement for the position or an inevitability. “She wanted to make humans better,” Jake said. “I’m guessing she thought stopping a war would do that. And I bet she didn’t intend to stop just one.”

  “Was she a complete fucktard?” Lilith lifted a hand. “Don’t answer that. Obviously, yes. But what did she think it would accomplish? Did she even choose a side, or just decide that killing off the enemies of one group would mean only friends were left, holding hands and singing?”

  “According to Michael, that’s exactly what she hoped would happen.”

  Her mouth fell open. “I was joking.”

  Jake fought the urge to jump when Sir Pup licked his hand. “That’s because you’re evil,” he said, shoving his fists into his pockets. “What’s a joke to you is serious to someone who’s all good inside, with marshmallows and roses coming out her ass.”

  Lilith turned her dark gaze on him. “I forget sometimes why I like you, puppy. Then you remind me.” She used her wineglass to point at Drifter. “So Anaria decided to wipe out a random army to stop a war—and likely had some plan to stop all wars in the same way: by getting rid of one side, so there weren’t any enemies left. Disregarding, for now, the sheer impossibility of that—what would be the point?”

  “Seems her idea had two parts to it. First was getting rid of fear, desperation—whatever drives people to do whatever puts ’em in Hell.”

  “Treating the symptom rather than the sickness.” Hugh pinched the bridge of his nose. “People are the cause of that fear and desperation, not just the reaction to it. She could stop wars, but she couldn’t root out what drives people to fight—on a large or small scale. Everything might look better on the surface for a while, but human nature isn’t going to change.”

  “Well, that ‘be
tter for a while’ is what allows her the second part. For a while, maybe you’ve got less hatred and cruelty—and fewer humans heading down to the Pit.”

  Lilith choked. “To weaken Lucifer?”

  “That’s what she figured.”

  Jake frowned. “How’s that work?”

  “Burning doesn’t just cleanse them, puppy. It leaves the . . .” Lilith rubbed the tips of her fingers together, as if trying to mold a word, a description. “Stain. The dark energy.”

  She didn’t look satisfied with that, but Jake nodded. “The ash. The evil shit that’s left when the rest is released.”

  “Yes. And that energy, that power, belongs to Lucifer—or whoever rules Hell. It allows him to shape his cities, to fortify his magic, to strengthen his lieutenants. It feeds him. So, when Hell runs low on humans, Lucifer isn’t as strong.” She let out a short laugh. “Not as strong . . . but the difference wouldn’t mean anything to most of us. But to a grigori, who he’s taught to use magic, and who might be supported by the nephilim? There, maybe he’s got something to worry about.”

  “And so would the rest of us,” Drifter said. “Because the other half of that is, if she succeeds, that means there’s someone on the throne who doesn’t have to follow the Rules. And if she doesn’t have to, then the nephilim don’t. So she’d be getting rid of the Pit, freeing humans to live in Hell—and using the nephilim on Earth to keep more people from heading on down.”

  Jake shook his head in disbelief. “It’s the same flippin’ thing Lucifer was doing with the grigori, except he was hoping they’d become asshole tyrants. But Anaria would be doing it for the people’s own good—and instead of ten, she’d have a hundred.”

  “More than that if she got around to creating new ones,” Drifter pointed out. “And with them, maybe no more wars, poverty—”

  “No free will,” Lilith interrupted darkly.

  “And that’s the sticking point, isn’t it?” Hugh said. “For Michael—and it is for me. How have those in Caelum responded?”

  Drifter ran his fingers up and down his suspenders before just letting his hands sit at his waistband. Jake knew him well enough to see he was weighing his words—and was reluctant to say them.