In the Demon's Company (Demon's Assistant Book 2)

by Tori Centanni

  “The visions give you an exact time?” I ask.

  He rolls his eyes. “No. But the vision tends to happen the day before. This one is happening today, if it’s happening at all.” A little thrill runs through me, along with a sense of relief at having something useful to do. Of course, relief is tangled with nerves. But if this demon is like Azmos, there isn’t much to be afraid of and she might be able to give me some answers about my teacher’s death.

  We walk down the Hill toward downtown, but instead of heading to Pioneer Square, we stop at major bus stop on Third Avenue. Even in the middle of the day, the street is chaotic, with people coming and going from all directions, some leaving on buses, others just trying to push through and get to the next block. People crowd around waiting for their buses, some on phones, some reading books. A guy lurking in a corner next to the minimart is openly dealing drugs despite the police van parked on the corner to deter that kind of thing. Another group of middle-aged men loiter, music blaring from the speakers of some hidden stereo in one of their coats.

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “A house,” Gabriel says, which does not really answer my question. We climb aboard a bus that goes toward Ballard. We find a sideways seat in back. Gabriel taps his foot anxiously on the floor. A man across from us looks pointedly at his leg and then glares at me.

  “Myron seems nice,” I say, just to make conversation.

  “Nice is not the word I would use,” Gabriel says, but he stops tapping his foot.

  “He was helpful,” I say. It’s nice to know there are other sources of information. Azmos only seems to tell me what he thinks I need to know. And he sorely underestimates that. Gabriel gives me an unreadable look. It’s full of something but I’m not sure what. For some reason, I keep talking. “I get the impression he regrets breaking up with you.”

  Gabriel’s look hardens. He folds his arms over his chest. “Why do you assume he broke up with me? As it happens, I broke up with him.”

  Heat creeps into my cheeks because I had assumed that. “I don’t know, I just thought—”

  “I get it. I’m damaged goods, so of course he’d want to be rid of me. Anyone would.”

  “No, that’s not it at all,” I say, wishing I hadn’t opened my big fat mouth.

  Gabriel sighs. “I thought it was lucky when we first met. When you’re mired in the arcane world, it’s impossible to have a relationship with someone who isn’t, which severely limits your options.” My heart hammers in my chest as images of Cam’s face—disgruntled and frustrated by all of the demon interruptions—flash across my mind. “But even then, sometimes things don’t work out. He and I…” He trails off and then his shoulders droop. “We both think we know what’s best, you know? Which tends to be the opposite of what the other one thinks.”

  I do know, because that sounds uncomfortably familiar.

  He pulls the cord at Dravus and we hike up a hill and turn down a street until we find a white house with brown trim. The lawn is a little overgrown, the paint in need of a new coat, but otherwise it’s a nice house. Two stories, big picture window opening into the living room.

  I knock on the front door. I hear footsteps approach and hold my breath, not sure what I’m hoping for. A finger hooks through the blinds and eyes peer out at us. The blinds pop back into place.

  Through the door, I can hear muffled voices but can’t make out what they’re saying.

  When the door finally opens, the woman who stands in front of me is young, mid-twenties, her black hair in a messy bun. She looks us up and down and then glances back inside. I see a few drops of blood on her sweatshirt.

  “Let them in,” a voice says. It’s lilting and beautiful and it sends chills up my spine.

  The young woman opens the door wide. Her jaw is bruised. She looks like she ran into someone’s fist. Unease sloshes around in my stomach. Gabriel and I exchange a glance. He reaches into his coat for the hilt of his sword, unclipping a leather clasp that holds it in place, I guess so he can pull it out quickly if the need arises.

  “You have a sword?” I hiss, surprised. It’s not really subtle, but then, there is nothing subtle about this sword.

  “Of course,” he says, like it’s a totally normal thing to have. I have never seen Azmos or Xanan with a weapon. Maybe their magic suffices.

  The house is small, furniture jammed into every corner of the living room. The blue-haired demon sits on the gray sofa like it’s a throne, her legs crossed. She wears black leather pants and a silver brocade corset. She smiles.

  “Well, hello,” she says, clearly pleased we’re here. Something tells me that’s not a good sign. “Anna, do make us some tea.”

  The woman in the blood-stained sweatshirt nods and goes into the next room.

  “I know you,” she says to Gabriel. Her skin is tan like Azmos’ and her straight, electric blue hair falls around her face and down past her shoulders. Her eyes are blue-and-silver snake eyes. “The psychic. Is that why you came? Did you foresee that young woman’s near-death?”

  Gabriel is still beside me. She doesn’t wait for him to answer. Her eyes land on me and her smile widens. My stomach turns. “And who might you be?”

  She’s like Azmos, I tell myself, snake eyes and all. And Azmos is not a monster. I take a few breaths and then say, “I work for a demon like you. I wanted to talk.”

  “A demon like me?” she says, tilting her head slightly. The movement is robotic and it makes my skin crawl.

  “Yes,” I say, trying to sound cool and collected.

  “There are so few demons like me,” she says, almost wistfully.

  Gabriel reaches for his sword. I frown. The demon hasn’t moved so I don’t understand why he does it. And then a steel blade is at my throat, cutting into my skin. Anna is behind me, her hand white-knuckling a sharp kitchen knife. The demon woman’s smile brightens. Tea must have been code for “knife.”

  “Drop the sword, or the girl dies,” the demon woman says in a tone far too cheerful for a death threat. “Don’t worry, dear,” she says to me. “I have a few questions for you. If you cooperate, I won’t let you die today.”

  Anna’s hand shakes and the knife slices into my neck, a tiny cut like one a guy would make while shaving, but it stings. My heart pounds, making the tiny cut throb. Gabriel drops his sword to the carpet. Anna’s death grip on the knife loosens slightly.

  “Sorry,” Anna whispers so quietly that it’s the ghost of a word at my ear.

  “This demon you work for. What are they called?” the demon woman asks.

  “Azmos,” I say, the word flying from my lips before I can think better of it.

  “As I suspected,” she says, clearly pleased by my answer. My pulse races and fear is trying to make me shake, which is a very bad thing with a sharp blade at my neck. I try to hold still and swallow the fear. “And you, psychic. Is he the one you work for as well?”

  Gabriel nods stiffly.

  “Excellent.” She claps her hands together and stands. Her eyes find Anna behind me. “Cut her throat.”

  Anna hesitates. Her hand shakes so hard she almost drops the knife. “I won’t let her die,” the demon says, trying to reassure Anna. It sure as heck doesn’t reassure me. “I will bind her soul, like I did for you.”

  Ice runs down my spine. My throat is a desert. “No, please.” The words escape my lips like a gasp, a tiny plea for my life. Anna’s hand is still except for the shaking. Then the knife drops and clatters to the ground. Gabriel dives for his sword and is up again, blade extended at Anna’s chest. Anna falls to the ground and sobs. I stand, rigid, heart slamming into my ribs, afraid to move.

  “I can’t,” she says. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to die but I can’t…”

  The demon woman tsks, tongue clacking against the roof of her mouth. “I do hope all humans aren’t this weak-willed.”

  “Get out,” Gabriel says, thrusting the blade toward the demon. She sighs, like she’s horribly disappointed but not sca
red.

  “Suit yourself,” she says. “But once I find a few mortals who aren’t pathetic, simpering fools, I will tear your throat out with my teeth.”

  Gabriel walks her to the door at sword point. She puts her hands up, smiling, like it’s all a game. “Tell Azmos Vessa is in town,” she calls to me. “He’ll want to know.”

  Gabriel slams the door and bolts it shut. I race to the back of the house and find a back door. It’s locked. I don’t know if locks will keep her out but at least she’s gone. I let out a breath before I kneel besides Anna. She’s crying and holding her stomach. The sweatshirt is pulled up slightly and I see through layers of gauzy bandages wrapped around her middle and secured with electrical tape. A line of blood has soaked through the fabric, making the dots into a line.

  “She attacked me,” Anna says, when she sees me looking. “She asked to come in and use the phone, and then she grabbed a knife while my back was turned.” She lets out a shuddering breath that rattles her body. “I shouldn’t have let her in. Emily is going to kill me. She’s always warning me about strangers, says I’m too nice.”

  “Why did she stab you?” Gabriel asks. His sword is down at his side but I notice he’s not putting it away.

  “She said if I didn’t agree to do what she said, she’d let me die. I was bleeding everywhere. It’s all over the kitchen.” She starts crying and tries to get to her feet. “I need to clean it up before my girlfriend gets home. I need to…” She stops and flops down on the sofa. “She’s going to kill me.”

  “Your girlfriend?” I say. “I’m sure she won’t. You were attacked. She’ll just be glad you’re safe.”

  Except as I piece things together, I realize that Anna isn’t safe at all. Vessa, the demon lady, mortally wounded her so she could offer her a deal. So she could do what Azmos does and give her more time…which doesn’t make sense.

  Anna shakes her head. “Vessa. She said if I didn’t do what she said, she’d kill me. That only her ma-magic is keeping me alive.”

  My stomach churns as I glance back at the kitchen. Blood is splashed on the white fridge, and there’s a pool of it creeping out from behind the counter. It looks like a murder scene. Which, I realize with a sudden sickness, is exactly what it is.

  “We need to take her to see Az,” I say to Gabriel. To Anna, I add, “He can help you.”

  I hope to god that’s true.

  CHAPTER TEN

  We take a cab to the warehouse and bang on the door because no one answers the buzzer. Anna is dejected, her shoulders stooped and her arms hugging her midsection. Her eyes are bloodshot and her face is puffy.

  Xanan finally opens the door. He’s wearing an apron covered in clay dust and holding a pick. Anna makes a strangled sobbing noise when she sees it. He glances from her to the tool in his hand and then back to me. “This isn’t a place to bring friends,” Xanan says. “It’s a place of business.”

  “We need to see Az. Is he here?”

  Xanan huffs out a breath. It hangs in the air. It’s cold outside in the wet, gray fog, but it doesn’t feel any warmer inside. He inhales through his nose and then his gaze falls on Anna, his eyes narrowing.

  “Upstairs,” he finally says.

  I push past him. Anna follows me, and Gabriel takes the rear. Azmos is in his office. I open the door without knocking. He closes his laptop and pushes it aside, shoving his sunglasses back down over his eyes when he spots Anna.

  She glances at me, unsure, and I pull out a chair for her.

  “Dare I ask?” Azmos asks. The adrenaline has faded out of my veins, leaving me shaky and tired. Gabriel flops down into the seat next to Anna, who asks where we are. No one answers her. A cold gust of air brushes over me and I see Xanan leaning in the doorway, his apron discarded. He wears only a black t-shirt and black jeans, and his blue eyes are fixed on Anna. I shiver and pull my coat tight, zipping it up all of the way.

  I explain about Gabriel’s muddied vision and how we hoped to find this other demon and ask some questions. I tell him about Anna, and how the other demon attacked her. Anna folds her arms over her wounded middle. Azmos remains still, hands folded over his desk, expression inscrutable.

  “This demon woman knows you,” I say. “Her name is Vessa.”

  Azmos sucks in a breath, hands sliding over the shiny wood surface. He doesn’t speak but he also doesn’t look surprised.

  “She has eyes like yours,” I say.

  He shakes his head. He’s gone a little pale and his finger taps on the desk. “I suspected as much. Though until recently, I had believed there was no way she could be alive.”

  “Who is she?” Gabriel presses. Azmos doesn’t answer. He stares behind us, at Xanan. I turn in time to see Xanan shrug in response to some unvocalized question.

  Azmos stands.

  “Wait, you have to help her,” I say, gesturing to Anna. “This Vessa person didn’t make a deal with her to help. She attacked her. She wouldn’t have died without demonic intervention. Doesn’t that make her an exception?”

  “It’s not that simple, Nicolette,” Az says. Anna makes a sound that’s between a whimper and a sob. “I am sorry but I can’t help her.”

  “But she’s going to kill me,” Anna says softly.

  “She already did,” Az says, voice equally soft. He nods at Xanan, who steps toward Anna.

  Even before he reaches for her, I know what he’s going to do. I push myself in front of her chair, spinning to face him, and stand there, arms extended like a human shield. “No. She’s an innocent victim. Vessa isn’t waiting for people who are about to die. She’s putting them in that position herself.”

  “It can’t be helped, Nicolette,” Xanan says. He even sounds sort of sad about it. Behind me, Anna lets out a sob.

  “There has to be a way. Have Azmos take over her contract. Have him use his power to save her.”

  “That’s not possible,” Xanan says, softly but firmly.

  A memory nudges at me. “You said you’d let Mrs. Crane live if she gave you info!” I protest. “Anna gave you intel.”

  Azmos raises an eyebrow in... what? Disbelief? Surprise? My heart plummets to my feet.

  “That was before we knew who was behind this,” Xanan says, “and before the balance was so far out of whack. I’m afraid circumstances have changed.” Xanan’s voice is as cold as his icy breath. “Now move.”

  I stand my ground, as though a squat, short teen girl is any match for Xanan, who’s tall and muscular, and probably older than I can imagine. “Please,” I say again. Anna is crying, shaking so the chair rattles against the floor.

  Xanan gently pushes me out of the way. He puts his palm on Anna’s neck, and then brushes his palm up to her cheek, and the life drops out of her. Her body goes limp in the chair. Just like that. One touch and it’s over.

  Now it’s my turn to sob. Gabriel grabs me around the shoulders and pulls me to his chest. His sweater vest smells like incense and baby powder.

  “You couldn’t wait until she was out of the room?” Gabriel demands.

  “It’s her job to understand the severity of the situation,” Xanan says calmly. I can’t speak through my sobs to tell him that I definitely do.

  I pull out of Gabriel’s arms. He gives me a sympathetic look. I dig a tissue out of my messenger bag and wipe my nose and eyes. Az is out of the office. He’s standing at the door to their living quarters, holding it open. Inside the door is a spiral staircase that leads to yet another door.

  I duck inside with a nod. There’s another door upstairs and Az swipes his keycard again. He goes straight to the kitchen area and turns on the sink. He sets his sunglasses down on the counter. He lets water run over his fingers and then splashes it on his face.

  The apartment is a huge flat that seems to take up the entire third floor. I didn’t even know it had a third floor, but there you go. It’s swanky and modern, minimalist but not empty. The main room is one large space with a kitchen to one side and a massive picture window that opens o
nto Puget Sound. From the outside, this window set high in the building doesn’t look like much but from the inside, this is an incredible apartment. I don’t know what I expected: fire and brimstone, maybe.

  Azmos turns and leans against the granite counter. For the strangest second, he reminds me of my dad. The two have nothing in common physically—Azmos is shorter, his hair is brighter, and while my Dad’s skin could maybe be called olive, Azmos’ is a shade or two more tan. And yet his mannerisms, the way he leans back, hands in his pockets as if he doesn’t know what to do with them, are similar.

  “Vessa?” he asks, as if he might have heard the name wrong. I nod. He brings his hand up and pinches the bridge of his nose.

  “Who is she?”

  “My sister.” The ground falls out from beneath me. My heart slams against my ribs. The air is sucked out of my lungs and I’m falling. I steady myself on the counter in front of me.

  “You have a sister?” I finally manage.

  “She’s dead. Or rather, I believed her to be dead.” He rubs his eyes. “Clearly I was mistaken.”

  There’s a long silence. Awkwardness permeates the room like Seattle mist. I knew they were the same kind of demon but there isn’t much in the way of family resemblance. The eyes, sure, but even those are a different color.

  “She made a deal with my teacher. The one who killed herself. I think she wanted Mrs. Crane to… hurt people. So she could make deals with them. She killed Anna.” Azmos stares past me, to the wall. “What does she want?”

  Azmos doesn’t answer but I can tell he’s considering what to say.

  “What do you take? When you offer people deals?” He still doesn’t speak. I want to shake him until words come out. I take a deep breath, trying to keep the frustration at heel. “What do you take from them?”

  “Nothing,” he says sharply, shaken out from whatever rabbit hole of memory he’d gone down. “The old stories of making deals with devils are fictions, of course. Occasionally I ask for a favor. Mostly I save people whom I feel will do some good in the world. In your case, I gave you a job, but that was for my own selfish reasons, and you were different. You required only a touch of magic to live, which is why you are not constrained the way others have been time wise.”