“Yes,” she said, her voice a soft, hoarse whisper. She barely glanced at my credentials, her tearful gaze glassy and unfocused. My heart ached for her, more so since her son’s activities in my world led to his death. Sure, Keith was a lowlife who broke the rules and got in over his head, but the guy’s mom had loved him and mourned his loss. I couldn’t give her peace or closure. Hell, I couldn’t even tell her what really happened to her son.
But I could make the demon or demons who’d brutally murdered him pay.
“I’m sorry for your loss and apologize for disturbing you, but I’d like to ask you a few questions about your son.”
She appeared momentarily confused, shaking out of her stupor to glance over her shoulder. I surreptitiously gripped my knife and took a peek at the metal. It glowed a brilliant blue.
She wasn’t alone. And the being inside was a celestial.
Damn it, why hadn’t I brought backup? Oh, right, I’d been pissed off at my demon boy and had stormed out on my own like I had something to prove. Amateur move, but I had my pride, too. I couldn’t even blame it on a tempter. No, this sticky situation was all on my own ego rather than corporeal demons of pride, aptly named egos. Then again, I had the anger of a mace and a healthy dose of stubbornness. I hadn’t met any demons that embodied that vice, if single-minded determination bordering on pigheadedness qualified as a sin.
No matter. I’d have to rely on determination, cunning, and more than a bit of luck now. I couldn’t let Mrs. Pendergrass fall victim to the monsters who’d taken her son, be they demons, angels, or some unlikely alliance of the two. Whoever killed Keith was tying up loose ends, and his family could be targets.
Clearing my throat, I regained Mrs. Pendergrass’s attention. “May I come in?”
She gave me a faint smile and nodded. “Of course. I apologize, I…it’s still such a shock.”
Stepping aside, she held the door for me as I took a deep breath and crossed the threshold. The space was warm, if dark, filled with wood paneling and pastels muted by the drawn curtains. Vases of flowers and stands with funeral sprays crowded the living room into which Ms. Pendergrass led me. Wiping her eyes with delicate fingers, she asked me to sit and then, as an afterthought, offered me something to drink.
“No, thank you,” I replied, scanning the room for demon signs. We appeared to be alone, but since some incorporeal tempters were sneaky, I figured celestials were, too. I peered into Mrs. Pendergrass’s eyes and looked her over for the looking for telltale mark of a demon. What if she’d been possessed by Mephisto, or a demon like him? If a celestial was here, was it to capture the demon at the expense of Mrs. Pendergrass?
My knife was still on the fritz. I couldn’t trust its reading.
There were other ways to detect a demon, though I didn’t smell the pungent, sulfuric aroma of brimstone, nor did I sense a demonic presence. I had no idea what celestial signs were.
But something not of this earth lurked nearby. Something powerful. I gripped the hilt of my knife, preparing for battle. And since I didn’t have Hannah to help me, I had to get Mrs. Pendergrass out of there.
“You said you had some questions about Keith.” Her voice broke as she spoke his name. Then, the most extraordinary aura of peace, calm, and tranquility filled the room along with the scents of dark roast coffee and warm apple pie. Mrs. Pendergrass’s face changed from its rictus of pain and grief to the same glassy-eyed, slack-jawed expression she’d worn when she’d answered the door.
Alarm bells rang somewhere in the depths of my addled brain before that strange sense of peace curled around me like a blanket. I fought against it, realizing that the feeling was the product of some form of glamour, but not like any tempter demon I’d ever encountered. I surreptitiously slipped the knife out of its sheath and pressed it against the flesh of my thigh, not piercing the skin, but enough to distract me from whatever spell I was in danger of falling under.
Keeping up the pretense of normalcy, I nodded to Mrs. Pendergrass. “I do have some questions about your son. Specifically, I’d like to know more about his online associates.”
She smiled as if reminiscing, toying with a stray lock of hair. “Of course. Keith loved role-playing games. He spent hours playing them. Research, really, since he was designing his own.”
“How proud you must be.”
My snarky comment didn’t appear to register to Mrs. Pendergrass. “He was so like his father. Carl spent hours poring over old books. He was a historian, you know. The myths and legends of ancient cultures from around the world fascinated him, especially the darker ones…”
Trailing off, she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. “I think the brownies will be ready soon. Would you and your colleague like milk with yours?”
Colleague?
A tall, thin figure materialized across the room. I leapt from the sofa and stood in front of Mrs. Pendergrass, shielding her from the intruder with my knife at the ready. It shone with blinding brightness, casting the entity in an ethereal blue glow. The figure smiled at me and spread her arms, palms open in the universal gesture of “I mean you no harm.”
I didn’t trust it for an instant.
She smiled wider, her weathered teeth gleaming with a preternatural glow, wrinkled skin shining almost as much as the silver-and-white strands of hair that cascaded around her shoulders. Clad in a simple white tunic, all she needed was wings to complete the look.
I tightened my grip on the knife’s handle and widened my stance. “Celestial being, I presume?”
The creature laughed, filling the air with soft, soothing notes of some ancient, angelic melody played upon a lyre. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Jane McGee. I do wish you’d put down that knife. You’ll undo my good work with this grieving mortal soul.”
“Good work?” I balked. Sure, plenty of humans believed in benevolent angels, but according to my demon associates, that was largely on account of better public relations. The fact remained that visitors from the celestial realm were as powerful, maybe more powerful, than those from the hell realm. Then again, my sources were a tad biased.
But I wasn’t stupid enough to take this entity at face value.
“Of course, my dear.” New Age Grandma’s brows furrowed as she peered over my head, nodding at Mrs. Pendergrass. Feeling foolish—I’d hate to fall for such a lame fake-out this late in my career—I took a cautious step back to get a sidelong glance at the grieving mother.
Grandma wasn’t kidding. Mrs. Pendergrass’s serenity had apparently fled, replaced by confusion and terror as she stared at my glowing knife. I must’ve looked like some deranged miniature serial killer. Ethereal energy flooded the room again, and Mrs. Pendergrass slowly returned to her stupor.
“I understand your wariness, Jane. I assure you we have the same goal of protecting this human. If you will allow me to settle her, I will be quite happy to explain.”
The scent of baked goods and autumn flooded my senses along with crisp air that sent a pleasant shiver down my spine as multicolored leaves danced in my vision. Good grief, I was surprised the angel didn’t throw in pumpkin spice for good measure. I was such a basic bitch.
“You can drop the mojo, Grandma. I’m not falling for it.”
“You may call me Cassie,” she said with a deep sigh. “My mojo, as you call it, is meant for Amanda Pendergrass. She’s sorely in need of comfort.”
I couldn’t fault the angel’s observation. I grudgingly sheathed my knife. Cassie beamed at me before turning her attention to Mrs. Pendergrass. She led the woman down a hallway and into a room, closing the door behind her. I fought the urge to follow and concentrated on clearing my mind of angel Zen mojo so I could keep my wits.
I managed to shake off everything except the smell of brownies. Maybe I was just hungry.
Cassie floated back into the room—literally floated. Her feet didn’t touch the ground. Show off. Or maybe it was an angel thing. I was unfamiliar with the ways of celestial beings. Maybe I should keep my bias
es in check. I opened my mouth, but she held a finger up. “Give me just a minute, dear. I need to turn off the oven. She really was baking brownies.”
My stomach rumbled, and the angel laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll share.”
Damn it. If she was trying to worm her way into my circle of trust, she was doing an excellent job. I was a sucker for brownies.
I sat down on a well-worn floral sofa. The decor was a tad dated, but at least Mrs. Pendergrass’s home had hardwood floors and a modern entertainment system. No shag carpet to go with the 70s sofa, thank goodness. I scanned a few of the photos lining the walls, and my heart broke a little when my gaze landed on a family portrait. The younger Mrs. Pendergrass stood beside a handsome devil I assumed was Mr. Pendergrass, their two sons smiling awkwardly at the camera. The younger boy had to be Keith. I recognized the eyes and shape of his face, which held the makings of the dead man I’d seen a few days earlier in spite of the boyish roundness and missing front teeth captured in the old photo.
Poor Mrs. Pendergrass. Her husband was her presumably also deceased, based on how she’d spoken about him. What about her other son? Did she have no one from whom to seek comfort and share grief?
Cassie the helpful angel emerged from the kitchen with a tray filled with brownies and two mugs. She placed the platter on the coffee table and gestured to me to help myself. I hesitated, in spite of the intoxicating aromas of chocolate and coffee wafting from the tray.
Cassie sighed, grabbed a brownie, and took a large bite. After she chewed and swallowed, she said, “See. Not poisoned. Please, have a brownie, dear.”
She didn’t have to tell me twice.
“Smo, why af you here?”
“Please, dear, don’t talk with your mouth full.”
The whole dear thing would have bothered me had the angel not looked like a sweet little old grandma, not to mention the brownies. She could call me Sugar Pie Honey Muffin if she kept the chocolate coming. It also made the mind-your-manners thing easier to swallow, too.
“Sorry. Why are you here?”
Her brows rose in surprise. “I’m an angel. I’m here to comfort this poor mortal in her time of grief.”
“Oh, right, ’cause that’s what angels do.”
My skepticism must have shown, since she leaned in and whispered, “You’ve been working with demons too long.”
That statement hit a raw nerve. Anger welled from deep within my soul. It had been simmering since Hannah appeared in the mirror all those years ago, but the angel’s words turned up the heat and sent the pot of rage boiling over. Speaking of bubbles, that strange sensation that first surfaced back in the alley with Murkowski and later with the boss merged with my rage, coalescing into a storm I couldn’t hope to contain.
My voice remained calm in spite of the growing storm of fury. “I’ve been working with demons too long? Gee, I wonder why? Maybe it has something to do with the fact I’ve been demon possessed since I was a little kid. Funny how that worked out. Not like I had a guardian angel looking after me.”
She smiled at me, a benevolent, patient, and completely patronizing smile that kicked the heat up a notch on my boiling pot of anger. “Oh, child, you have no idea, do you? Your guardian angel has always been with you.”
Okay, New Age Grandma had hit a sore spot. No angel had ever come to me in my hours of need, not when I was a scared five-year-old girl newly possessed by a demon, and not now when my life and my family’s lives were on the line. Anger surged through me. I stood up, unsheathed my knife, and threw myself in her direction. She disappeared before I landed face first on the love seat where she’d been sitting just a moment before. The old, lumpy chair did little to cushion my fall. Damn, I should’ve stocked up on D’s magic demon healing potion when I had the chance. I couldn’t exactly call him now. I had my pride.
He was right, though. I was vulnerable, as my failed attempt to attack the celestial being proved. I extricated myself from the sofa. It was a miracle I hadn’t stabbed myself with the enchanted knife. The blade glowed a brilliant blue, its light more intense than the shade it had been when I first entered the Pendergrass home.
Wait a minute…
Demons made the knife glow red—the brighter the glow, the more powerful the demon. Demon power was derived from rank and strength gathered upon feeding. The knife glowed brighter than it had when I first arrived.
And found myself in the presence of a celestial being—a celestial being who’d been “comforting” a grieving mother.
Holy. Shit.
Demons may feed on sin, but angels feed on misery.
D might have been on my bad list, but I owed him for this little epiphany.
I looked around the room, playing a riveting game of where’s the angel. “Neat trick with the materializing thing. Can you pull that off any old day, or only after feeding off a grieving soul?”
“Do not be so quick to judge things you don’t understand, child.”
“I understand when someone’s trying to bullshit me.” I kept my knife in front of me as I slowly made a circuit of the living room, gaze scanning the area for any sign of my celestial companion. I even checked the row of family photos, halting on the next to last picture in a worn frame. Something familiar about it niggled at my addled brain. Damn my short attention span.
“There is much you do not understand about yourself. How could you possibly recognize when someone’s on your side? You cannot distinguish friend from foe, but you will. You’re close to the answers that have always been there.”
I was about to make some snarky comment when recognition dawned. Not recognition of whatever cryptic pearls of wisdom the angel was tossing my way, but one that sent a shiver of fear down my spine and stabbed a knife of anxiety through my gut. One of the photos showed a teenaged Keith Pendergrass posing in front of a muscle car with another man, his brother. While I’d been focused on his ass the last time I saw the other man, I recognized the startling blue eyes and handsome face. It was Cooper.
Holy guacamole. Apparently summoning was a family business.
A business that had cost Keith Pendergrass his life when he summoned the wrong demon, using his brother’s portal, and might cost Keith’s brother his life.
“Where are you going, child?” The angel’s voice sounded alarmed, but I didn’t have time to worry about it.
I only hoped I could get to Cooper before Mephisto or another one of Belial’s demon henchmen could.
Or before D got to him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
My hike to Cooper’s portal was a lot easier the second time around. Or it would have been if I hadn’t been worried about the health and well-being of my favorite whack job summoner. The trail Lacey and I had blazed the other day remained open. Even better, Lacey wasn’t walking in front of me and sending stray branches back to smack me in the head.
Nature was more fun without assault.
I wondered if I could sneak up on Cooper without the assistance of my AWOL demon. Stealth seemed the best approach, considering the guy was likely under attack or in danger of imminent attack. Where on earth—or possibly another realm—had my demon partner gone? It would suck big time if I had to go a few rounds with a powerful demon messenger or demon lord without her. Then again, I did have the skills I’d earned through blood, sweat, tears, and more blood—part of the brutal basic training for demon trackers. Tracking ordinary humans was generally easy. Tracking a powerful demon or Cooper the outdoorsman and wild animal whisperer, however, would no doubt be a real challenge.
Still, if I could pull it off without Hannah, I could tell D to suck it.
I cursed my stupid conscience since it chose that moment to remind me this mission was, in fact, not really about me. It wasn’t about my foolish pride, either. Cooper’s life might be on the line. Then again, considering D might possibly want to interrogate and possibly murder Cooper since it was his—and Keith’s—father who’d summoned him for Belial, I couldn’t turn to him for help even if
I’d wanted to.
But I couldn’t let my impulse-control issues get the best of me either. Not this time.
Considering what we’d learned from the grimoire, I didn’t think I could trust the boss, aka The Arbiter, either. That meant HQ and dispatch were out. I dialed my roomies, but the calls went straight to voice mail. Damn it, this was no time to be out of touch. I finally caved and sent a text to Lacey and Alexi requesting backup before I got too deep into the woods and lost cell service.
I hoped they were close. If not, I’d have to rely on my skills, my wits, and that strange power surge that had sprung up within my being again and hope I could control it.
I was so screwed.
I crouched low, choosing my path with care. My footfalls would crack no twig, crinkle no leaf, and disturb nothing in my path. I was the forest, and the forest was me. We were one. My—
Arh-ack-arh-arh-arh-ack-ack
Ricky, my favorite little vixen, came barreling down the path in front of me, doing that weird yip-bark thing all the way.
“Ricky, shh,” I hissed. “I’m trying to be sneaky.”
She leapt from the path in a streak of red fury and landed on my back. She used it as a springboard to bound on the path behind me—making one hell of a ruckus in the process—and then doubled back to assault me with a slew of licks, rubs, and nips. Her fluffy red tail wagged to its black tip as she scampered around on slim black paws. This was totally going to screw with my efforts at stealth mode, but I could hardly resist the adorable bundle of fur.
“Who’s a naughty girl?” I whispered, scratching her behind the ears and down her sleek body as she licked my nose. “Who’s the noisiest fox in the park who’s going to get me busted by a crazy wild man and a badass demon? That’s right, it’s Ricky.”
She whined as she rubbed her furry little body against me and sniffed. And sniffed. And…sniffed some more. What? I’d showered today. And I didn’t have any bacon on me.
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