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Through a Crimson Veil

Page 11

by Patti O'Shea


  “Should I start with you or your girlfriend?”

  This time Conor didn’t bother to rein in the Kiverian—not immediately. He felt sure his contact could see the demon was at the end of its tether, but it didn’t seem to rattle the man. Very deliberately, Conor let Nat watch him pull back and coldly take command. The biggest weakness demons had was their overly emotional natures, but by showing his human side dominating, he was demonstrating that he was stronger than the typical Kiverian.

  Conor kept his voice even, though it took effort. “Do you really want to go there?” he asked.

  Nat took a swig from his beer before he spoke. “There are a few demons around that weren’t here a week ago, and they all seem to be focused on you and your houseguest.”

  “Why?”

  After Nat gave another shrug, Conor leaned forward, eyes narrowed. Before he could issue a threat, his contact said, “I don’t know, and that’s the truth.”

  The man wasn’t worried, but he should be. Conor wasn’t going to let anything or anyone hurt Mika, no matter what he had to do. But despite making it clear he wanted answers, this game of twenty questions was apparently still on. “What kinds of demons?” he gritted out.

  “You’re assuming I’m familiar with the breeds.”

  “I know you are. What types?”

  “Very dangerous,” Nat said after a slight hesitation. “The nicest of the group is a Kiverian—that should tell you what a friendly batch of visitors has come to Crimson City.”

  Conor slowly rotated his beer bottle, thinking. The Kiverian wasn’t a surprise; Mika had told him she was being hunted by one. But…“What are the others?”

  “Two are Setonians—each much scarier than a Kiverian.” Nat smirked as he said that, so Conor guessed he wasn’t frightened at all. “Then there are the nasty ones.”

  “They have a name?”

  Nat nodded. “Yep, Bak-Faru.” He spelled it. “But you won’t hear that term much; most only refer to them as the Dark Ones. Ask your houseguest about them. I’m sure she’ll have more information than I do.”

  It was probably true—if Nat wasn’t a demon. Conor tried again to read him, but the energy morphed so fast that he gave up trying to identify just what the hell his contact was. “How’d they get through the veil?” Conor finally asked.

  “You’re not going to believe me,” Nat said, “but I don’t know. There are rumors flying, though.”

  “Share them.”

  “They’re unsubstantiated—I can’t tell you if they’re true.” Nat seemed to watch him closely as he spoke. Conor nodded.

  “I’ll consider myself warned. What are the rumors?”

  “Word going around is that a group of humans has been playing with things better left alone. I’ve heard this enough to tend to believe it’s true. It’s after this that the stories diverge.”

  Nat stopped, and Conor had to swallow a growl. Was he going to have to drag it out of the man? “Keep talking,” he ordered.

  “One version,” his contact continued, “is that humans conducted experiments that made a crack in the portal between Orcus and this world. Seems to me if this were true, we’d be overrun by demons by now, but you never know. The other story has a group of humans calling forth the Dark Ones with the hope of forging an alliance with the underworld.”

  “You believe version two?”

  Nat shrugged. “With all the fear around about the vampires and werewolves, it wouldn’t surprise me if the humans were looking to make a deal. They’d be stupid, though, to trust a demon.” He paused before adding, “No offense.”

  “Demons lie,” Conor agreed flatly.

  “Whenever it’s to their benefit,” Nat agreed. “But you might want to find Hayes, and ask him about the current invasion.”

  Hayes? He was another freelancer for B-Ops, and while Conor didn’t have much to do with anyone at the agency, he’d probably talked with him the most. “Marc Hayes? What the hell would he know?” Conor demanded.

  With a smirk, Nat shrugged. “I don’t know. But word is, Hayes is looking for intel on demons too. Might be nothing. Might be interesting.” Nat raised his bottle, took a long draw, then said, “The other thing to keep in mind is that neither story might be true. Demons might have got to LA another way. Some in Orcus have human minions. They could have told their people to call these demons forward for reasons of their own.”

  Conor nodded grimly; but so few humans fell into this category, he considered the odds negligible. “Why the focus on my houseguest?” He wasn’t going to use Mika’s name, not with this man.

  “You asked that before.”

  “And you claimed not to know, but I don’t believe you.”

  Nat’s smirk returned. “I don’t have the answer to that question, and I can’t say for sure the focus is on her. What I do know is that our new friends seem to be interested in your house.” The smile widened. “Maybe you’re just parked over the gate to Orcus.”

  Without waiting for a response, Nat pushed his chair back from the table and stood. Conor got to his own feet. “We’re not finished,” he said.

  Nat had other ideas: “You may not be, but I’ve told you what I know.”

  Conor figured that was unlikely. A war went on inside him, part of him wanting to keep Nat there, to make the man tell him more. The other part of him knew that being on friendly terms with his contact was smarter than antagonizing him, that honey would pay off bigger in the long run than vinegar. Common sense subdued him. “If you discover anything else, I’d appreciate you getting in touch,” he said.

  “Sure,” Nat agreed. As he went past, Conor sat down again and reached for his beer bottle. “By the way,” Nat added from behind him, “congratulations on the vishtau.”

  The laughter in the man’s voice made Conor whip around, but there was no sign of his informant anywhere. He stood, scanned the bar again, but the man had disappeared. He felt a brief moment of concern.

  What the hell was Nat? And what was a vishtau?

  Mika couldn’t concentrate. Conceding that she wasn’t going to get any further tonight, she put the book back on the shelf and paced restlessly around the great room. Where the hell was McCabe? Damn it, the sun was already peeking over the horizon and he wasn’t home yet.

  He’d been so blithe about the danger from that auric assassin that she’d stopped worrying, but now the only thing she could think was that he’d been hurt, maybe killed. Who cared if demons didn’t have any adverse reaction to sunlight like vampires, that he could stroll around Death Valley at high noon without any difficulty? She was still concerned.

  She pivoted sharply and her dark hair fell into her face. Irritated, Mika dragged her fingers through it, pushing it out of her way. The least the man could do was call and let her know he was okay. Didn’t he know that she’d be anxious?

  No, she realized, it probably hadn’t occurred to him that she’d worry. From the things he’d said—and things she’d read in his file—it didn’t sound as if he’d ever had anyone who paid attention to his comings and goings. Mika ran her hand through her hair again. When McCabe showed up, she was going to set him straight; she cared and she expected him to let her know when he’d be late.

  After a few more circuits of the room, she knew she had to do something or she’d start climbing the walls. Her eyes went to his desk. He’d go insane if she organized his workspace. She smiled. It served him right for stressing her out like this.

  Mika started with his tax drawer, separating the papers into appropriate piles. She’d need to find some tabbed folders later, but at least everything would be ready to file. Digging in the shallow center drawer, she spotted a jumble of paperclips, and with a frown untangled them. Tucking one bare foot beneath her, she returned to sorting the documents.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  Her head popped up. She hadn’t been monitoring for Conor’s arrival, and he’d managed to surprise her. Her eyes roamed over him, studying him from head to toe. T
here was no sign of injury. Mika looked out the window and saw it was full morning. She scowled at him. “Where the hell have you been, McCabe? Do you know what time it is?” She put the papers aside and stalked over so she was toe-to-toe with him. “You couldn’t use your comm and let me know you were still breathing?”

  “What?”

  He stared at her as if she were speaking in some foreign language, and that calmed her temper. Winding her arms around his waist, she leaned into him and said quietly, “I was worried about you.”

  “Yeah?” She thought she detected a note of pleasure as well as surprise before he went all grumbly on her. “I can take care of myself, you know. There’s no reason to get upset.”

  The gruff persona would be a lot easier to buy if he hadn’t put his arms around her too and started rubbing her back. It told her clearer than words that he appreciated her concern.

  “I know you can,” she said. “But because I care about what happens to you, I’ll worry from time to time. It’s natural.”

  She’d managed to stun him, but it only lasted a second or two before he covered up with bluster. “Now, would you mind telling me what the hell you’re doing over there?” Instead of freeing her, he nodded toward his desk.

  “I’m organizing your paperwork.”

  “What?” He looked completely befuddled. “What are you? The world’s first accounting demon?”

  Mika stiffened. It was one thing for her cousins to tease her about her compulsive behavior, it was another thing for Conor to comment. “If you’re going to be snide, at least be accurate,” she told him. “That would be the world’s first file clerk demon. I’m not doing your taxes, I’m sorting the papers.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they’re there,” she snapped. “You should know demons get obsessive. My deal is organization, your fixation is staying in control. I don’t mock you about that.”

  “I’m not mocking you,” he said, rubbing circles on her back. “It’s just…unexpected, that’s all.”

  “I know.” She sagged into him, and it was only then that she realized that a good deal of her pique had to do with her relief that Conor had returned safely. “By the way, you need a filing cabinet and tabbed folders. Get me the hanging things too. I’ll set everything up, but it’s your job to keep it going.” She knew he wouldn’t like her fussing over him, so Mika didn’t say another word about his tardiness. Instead, she edged closer and nuzzled his throat. Feeling his steady pulse beneath her lips reassured her.

  “I had a filing cabinet,” he said, his breath warm against her ear. “I got rid of it when the IRS switched to the new, paperless system.”

  Mika shifted enough for him to see her laugh. “Haven’t you learned? When you hear the words paperless system, you should buy a second filing cabinet. The documentation always doubles—and that’s at the very least.”

  He made a growling noise, but didn’t argue. She brought a hand up and turned his face to hers. For a moment, Mika gazed into his eyes. She wanted to kiss him—not a hot, take-me-and-do-me-on-the-kitchen-floor kiss, but one that showed her appreciation that he was here. Except, she found it impossible to close the distance between them when he always pulled away.

  Not this time. McCabe brushed his lips over hers. He gave her exactly the kind of kiss she wanted—soft, tender, affectionate. And when he broke away, she leaned back in his arms and smiled gently. “I’m glad you’re home,” she said.

  She started to turn out of his embrace, intending to explain the rudiments of her system, but Conor’s hold tightened, keeping her close. “Tell me about the Bak-Faru,” he ordered.

  Mika gasped. Immediately she raised her hand to trace the glyph of protection, and she said, “Don’t ever say that name aloud!”

  Chapter Seven

  Mika broke away from Conor and started pacing, trying to work off some of her agitation. He didn’t know any better, hadn’t seen what the Dark Ones could do, but to use their name like that…She twisted her fingers and paced faster.

  It was superstition and instinct that had impelled her to make the pattern of protection in the air, but that didn’t indicate weakness. Demons much stronger than the Mahsei would have done the same thing. Even those from the Grolird branch, the second most dangerous group, made the sign if someone was foolish enough to speak the name of the Dark Ones—she’d seen it with her own eyes. Nobody wanted to attract attention from a member of that group.

  “Mika,” Conor said.

  She ignored him. How likely was it that they’d heard Conor? This wasn’t Orcus, and no one of that breed should be here. But say there were a handful of the Dark Ones freed; what were the odds one of them would pick up such a quick utterance? She and McCabe were probably safe. She hoped.

  “Mika.”

  But what if they weren’t? What if one of the dark demons had heard their name? She wrung her hands harder.

  There was no way she could hope to fight off such powerful beings. Hell, there was little chance Conor and her could fight them off. Maybe they’d be lucky and the Dark Ones would merely kill them. After all, they didn’t always torture their victims.

  “Mika!” Conor caught her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “What’s wrong? All I did was ask about the Ba—”

  She put her hand over his mouth, cutting him off. “I told you not to say that! Don’t even think it.” Mika looked around, half expecting to see one standing there despite the security around Conor’s home. The dark demons were capable of nearly anything.

  Conor took her hand from his face, and held on to it. “You’re scared,” he said. There was surprise in his voice.

  That made her stop and take a deep breath. “Only the foolish or ignorant aren’t frightened of them.”

  “I guess you’re not fearless after all.” One side of his mouth quirked up.

  He’d thought she was fearless? Mika studied him, but McCabe didn’t appear to be joking. “Don’t I wish,” she laughed to herself.

  Conor stooped and looked into her eyes. “Honey, even if these guys are total psychos, they’re not omnipotent.” His gentleness knocked her off balance, and Conor continued, “They’ll never know we’re talking about them. There’s nothing to be scared of.”

  For a few seconds, Mika debated. It would probably be okay to say one small thing about them. “No, they’re not omnipotent. But saying their name must change ambient energy or something, since they always seem to know when it happens. And they can listen from a distance then, or so it’s believed. Conor”—she tightened her grip on him—“don’t ever underestimate how deadly they are.”

  The expression on his face told her he was about to pat her on the head—figuratively speaking. With a low growl of frustration, she spun away and put space between them. He hadn’t lived in Orcus, and odds were he’d never run across a dark demon, but he was ready to dismiss what she said because it didn’t fit his view of the world. What could she say to convince him that she told the truth? The dark demons were the things of nightmares, and even if she were willing to talk about them, he wouldn’t believe her stories. McCabe would think they were tales meant to frighten children, tales of imagined boogeymen.

  She stopped pacing abruptly when she saw him at his computer. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  Conor didn’t so much as glance at her, but she saw he had a search engine on the screen and made tracks. She stopped him before he could type the first three letters. Straddling him, she gripped his hands with hers. “Don’t! Please don’t, okay?”

  “Your fear isn’t rational.” He shifted, adjusting her position so that they were both more comfortable.

  “You’ve seen those old movies where the gunfighter comes to town looking to have a showdown,” she said intently. “Remember how people would scurry off the street? Parents would grab their children and hustle them to safety? That’s what it was like whenever the Dark Ones left their enclave. Everyone in Orcus—every other type of demon—hurried to get out of their wa
y.”

  He looked skeptical, and Mika sighed. McCabe wouldn’t understand what it was like. He was a demon living in a human world; there wasn’t much here for him to be afraid of. “You have to trust me. They’re malicious, ruthless—evil.”

  “Well, my contact tells me we already have a couple of these bastards out here. If they’re the ones that set that trap for you, it’s essential that I know as much as possible about them.” He freed his hands from her grip and cupped her face, his thumbs running over her cheekbones. “Knowledge is power, and if I have to fight them to defend you, I’ll need all the power I can get.”

  Mika felt the blood drain out of her face. “No,” she said. It was the only word she managed to form. She rested her hands on his shoulders and leaned forward. “No,” she repeated. Then, her voice thick, she choked out, “I don’t want you facing them.”

  “There might not be any other option if they’re the ones after you. I took the job to keep you safe, and—”

  “From a Kiverian, not them!”

  “That’s not what I promised.” His eyes were glowing behind his contact lenses. “I gave my word to protect you, period. I won’t renege.”

  He was serious—there was no mistaking that. She ran through options. It wasn’t possible to simply let him out of his promise; it didn’t work that way when a demon made a bargain. The only thing that might break it was—

  “I didn’t pay you yet. That means I didn’t uphold my end of the deal, and you’re not bound by our agreement.”

  McCabe gave her cheeks another caress, then moved his hands to her hips, shifting her weight again. She wasn’t sure if he was uncomfortable or if he simply wanted her body closer to his, but the change in position put them nose to nose. “That might work if you were human. But you’re a demon, and you entered into this deal same as me. I know you’ll keep your end.”

  With a soft sigh, Mika surrendered to the inevitable. At the beginning, this had seemed so easy. Tell a small lie, spend some time in his house, and complete her mission. Only, it had stopped being simple almost immediately.

 

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