City of Demons

by Richelle Mead

  “Who did then? Who offered bribes to acquit you and convict Clyde and Starla? Someone else was working with you. But, I mean, not with you.” I could say that with some conviction because I knew for sure now he’d had no ally that he’d been aware of.

  Kurtis frowned, face lost in thought, then it cleared. “Noelle.”

  “She’s powerful enough?”

  “Oh, yeah. Absolutely. Makes sense too. There wasn’t enough evidence to have a clear decision, so she pushed for a quick ending and got her cathartic revenge. Punished two people who were pissing her off in the process. Very neat. Nice way to do it if you can’t nail the right suspect.”

  It made sense. Starla and Luis had confirmed the same ideas. And yet . . . something wasn’t making sense . . .

  I blinked. “That’s because the right suspect wasn’t up there.”

  Kurtis’ face registered mild surprise. “Oh?”

  “It was Noelle. Noelle killed Anthony.”

  “Her own employee?” he scoffed. “Not likely. Especially since, as his supervisor, she could legally inflict any number of punishments.” He grinned. “I of all people know the loopholes there. Besides, she had the hots for Anthony.”

  “So did Starla. A lot more than the hots, actually. Yet everyone thinks casting her as a murderer makes sense.”

  “Okay, you get points for that, but what else have you got, Sherlock? You can’t just go accuse a major archdemon of murder.” He made a face. “Unless it’s one who’s been sentenced to Belgium.”

  Scraps of conversation from the last few days began fitting together in my head. “Noelle was jealous of Anthony and Starla. He’d refused her advances, and it must have driven Noelle crazy that he preferred a new, weak demoness over her. She tried to split them up, right? Said it was interfering with his work. And that’s when he lashed back. Starla told me how he wanted to transfer. Probably figured he could still date or whatever Starla without work problems. But Noelle said she was going to fight it—she didn’t want to lose him. She loved him. And they had this huge, horrible blowout that made them both really mad. Clyde passed Anthony on his way out, and Anthony was furious. Then Clyde talked to Noelle, and she was livid too.”

  “So she kills Anthony over an argument?”

  “No,” I said. “Well, yes. More than that. The argument was the culmination of a lot of things. His rejection of her. The fact that she was likely going to lose him. Remember Margo’s comment? ‘If I can’t have him . . .’ That was Noelle’s line of thinking.”

  Kurtis let out a low whistle. “That’s quite a theory, little one. And a lot of circumstantial evidence.”

  “It’s why she’s been so angry over all this. It’s not revenge. It’s anger at herself for what she did—and fear to close this up fast and cover her own tracks. That’s also why she didn’t push to look inside any of you guys. She made it sound like she didn’t want to violate you, but really, it was because she knew you’d all be proven innocent.”

  “Well, you’ve made some good leaps, I’ll give you that.” He pointed at the clock. Twenty minutes until midnight. “But there’s nothing to be done for it, even if it’s true. It’s almost time. That group’s in a frenzy by now, waiting for the torture. They’re probably selling balloons and hot dogs. No one’s going to listen.”

  I stared blankly at the window. “Luis would.”

  “Maybe he would.” When I didn’t answer, Kurtis laid an almost friendly hand on my shoulder. “Look, you really might be on to something, but it’s too late. You’re burning up time. At the very least, get in one kiss with your guy. Chase after this theory, and you blow any moment you have with him.”

  Kurtis was right. And I had already blown most of what time I could have had with Seth. I’d wasted it in the guise of another woman. But if I acted soon, I could have him now as me. I could have him, and Starla and Clyde would suffer. I’d noted before that they’d probably committed enough other crimes to deserve punishment, but it occurred to me that like Kurtis, they might have initially fallen from grace for more than just selfish reasons.

  I looked up and met Kurtis’ penetrating gaze. “Will you transport me back to the hotel?”

  * * *

  He was right about the spectacle. The ballroom-turned-conference-room was packed. The whole gang was there from the first day: imps, vampires, incubi, and demons. Kurtis and I pushed our way through the excited crowd. People slapped him on the back in congratulations as we passed. They made lewd comments to me.

  Near the front of the room, a demon in black sharpened long, bladed instruments. Near him stood Starla and Clyde. The two “guilty” demons didn’t move, though no visible bonds held them. They were frozen, trapped through some magical means. I averted my eyes from them.

  “Help me,” I told Kurtis. “Help me find Luis.”

  It was an impossible task. There were too many bodies mingling and moving. Luis was a big guy. I’d hoped I might find him simply by virtue of him being taller than others, but that seemed unlikely now.

  Kurtis stopped walking. “He’s not here.”

  I stopped too, nearly running into an annoyed vampire. “How do you know?”

  “He’s one of the strongest here, stronger even than Noelle. If he were in this room, we’d feel him, even above all this.”

  He was right, I realized. We fought our way back out. Once outside, Kurtis stood and looked around like a hound sniffing the wind. “Got him.”

  We found Luis sitting in the bar, stirring his bourbon over ice. He appeared to be the only one of the demonic congregation who wasn’t in the other room making balloon animals or getting face tattoos. Feeling us enter, he looked up in surprise.

  “You have to help us,” I said. Immediately, I sat down and spilled the whole story, laying out the evidence—circumstantial though it was—about why I believed Noelle was the killer.

  Luis listened with an unreadable face. When I finished, he pretty much said the same thing Kurtis had. “There’s no way to prove it.”

  “But it makes sense! Luis, they’re five minutes away from punishing the wrong people.”

  “Georgina.” Luis sighed. “Unfair things happen every day in the universe whether you live on Earth, in Heaven, or in Hell. If you’re right, it’s unfortunate, but well . . . that’s that.”

  “I thought you wanted the truth,” I accused.

  “Then I have it. Your idea makes sense. Noelle did it.”

  “But it’s not justice!”

  “I didn’t come for justice.” He gave me a kind, sad smile. “I’m not the one with ‘an annoying yet adorable sense of right and wrong.’”

  “I don’t believe that! You must still have something.”

  “Look, I’m not happy that Noelle could get away with this, but it’s too late. And this isn’t a Christmas special where I suddenly see the error of my ways. I’m a fucking demon. I spread evil in the world. I am evil.”

  I figured fighting that would just get me accused of more cheery good will. And honestly, I did believe Luis still had a sense of right and wrong . . . but if his life had been like Kurtis’, he had good reason for apathy.

  “If you call her out,” I said finally. “You’ll get accolades. Big promotion.”

  Luis’ face registered surprise, then broke into a grin. “You’re bribing me now?”

  I looked between him and Kurtis. “I hear that’s how it works around here.”

  Luis’s smile faded. “There’s no way of proving her guilt.”

  “Well,” mused Kurtis. “There’s one way . . .” He’d perked up at the mention of promotion. I think he hoped being in on Noelle’s takedown could help his Belgium transfer.

  He and Luis locked eyes, and something passed in those glances.

  “No,” said Luis. “She wouldn’t agree.”

  “You’re strong enough . . .”

  Luis grimaced. “If I do that, and she’s not guilty, I’m the one who gets flayed.”

  “She is guilty,” I said, having no
clue what they referred to, only that something big was on the line. “Luis, please.”

  The clock ticked. One minute until midnight.

  Luis studied me for a long time. He exhaled and stood up.

  “I can’t believe I’m about to do this.”

  Kurtis gave him a friendly punch. “Don’t worry. I’ve got your back.”

  “Really?”

  “No.”

  * * *

  Powerful presence or no, not many people noticed when Luis entered the ballroom. At least, not until he grabbed Noelle and slammed her against the wall.

  Dead silence filled the room, except for Noelle’s outraged cries as she fought against him. But he held her pinned with more than physical strength; she couldn’t match his magical power.

  “Are you out of your fucking mind? What the hell are you—?”

  She quieted and blanched as he pressed his hand to her forehead. He paled as well, and I heard a collective gasp around the room. I realized then what he was doing. He was looking in her, just as Kurtis had allowed me. Only, Luis was doing it by force. It was a mental, spiritual rape of sorts.

  I shuddered, remembering how it had been for me being the one to look inside. It had been a hundred times worse for Kurtis, and unlike Noelle, he’d consented. As she grew paler and paler, I could only imagine how it must feel for her to undergo that. No, scratch that. I couldn’t even comprehend it.

  The two demons broke apart in less than a minute. I wondered if that’s how much time had elapsed when Kurtis and I had done it. I’d relived an eternity in my mind while it happened.

  Luis and Noelle stood there, gasping, staring at each other. Both looked ready to pass out.

  “Holy shit,” exclaimed Luis. “You did do it.”

  Noelle frantically shook her head, black curls swaying, as she tried to hold on to the wall for support. “No, no.” She looked desperately at the crowd. “He’s lying! He’s lying!”

  Luis was visibly trying to recover himself. He grabbed nothing for support, but he had the look of someone who’d been gut-punched. “You want to let someone else look and prove me wrong?”

  “No!” she cried. In power, she was second only to Luis here. None of the other gathered demons could actually force her as he had. She would have to allow it—unless an outside demon was summoned. “You can’t prove anything, Luis. You’re lying. You’re—”

  “I can prove it,” he interrupted. “You showed me. I saw it inside you. I know where to go and—”

  “No, don’t. Don’t.”

  He shrugged. “Your call. You tipped me off. I know how to get evidence now and prove it. I’m the one passing judgment. Make me go hunt down the proof, and your sentence will be . . . bad. Or, confess now, and your sentence will be . . . less bad.”

  A silent battle took place. I had no idea what evidence Luis had seen inside her, but her expression showed that she did not want it made public. Realizing she was fucked either way, Noelle finally nodded.

  “All right. All right. Yes, I confess. I did it. I killed Anthony and set the others up. There. Are you happy? Are you fucking happy?”

  Those gathered went crazy. They loved the new turn of events. It might have even been better than a flaying for them. As chaos broke out in the room, I heard Kurtis chuckling behind me.

  “Sweet,” he said. “I am so out of Belgium.”

  “What, for helping with this?” I asked.

  “Yup. Well, that and I hear there’s an archdemon opening in L.A.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Seth and I flew back to Seattle the next day. A lot of demons had wanted to talk to me, but I needed to get out of that hotel as soon as possible. In fact, I’d hightailed it out of the ballroom once Starla and Clyde had been freed. I hadn’t stuck around because I had a feeling Noelle was simply going to be swapped into their place for the evening’s entertainment.

  Sitting beside Seth for the two-and-a-half hour flight home brought all the other events of last night back to me. As we held hands and recounted the bizarre trial events, he in no way acted as though he’d faced temptation and won last night. I in no way acted as though I’d been the cause of that temptation and had subsequently lost the one chance we might have had for physical intimacy. The fact that my exploits had led to two demons’ freedom was little comfort.

  “She really killed him?” asked Seth in amazement.

  “Yup.”

  “But she loved him . . . or something, right?”

  “Yup.”

  “Then how could she have done that?”

  I stared at his profile, at the cheekbones and brown eyes I loved. I thought about losing him, how I would feel if he chose another woman. I wouldn’t be driven to kill him, of course, but . . . well, I could empathize with the pain.

  “Because people do stupid things for love,” I murmured sadly, thinking of my own sins.

  He turned and met my eyes, compassion shining in them. “You okay?”

  I hesitated, and for a brief moment, the instinct was there. I almost spilled everything I’d done in my silly Beth obsession. After all, Seth and I had recently had big discussions about honesty in relationships. He was a big believer in telling the truth, and I wanted to live up to his ideals. Yet, the words stuck in my throat.

  “Fine,” I said instead. “Just worn out . . . long week.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I hear you.” His gaze turned inward, and I had a feeling he was thinking of the condo. He opened his mouth, like he too might say something, then closed it. I was pretty sure I knew what had been about to come out.

  “So,” I said carefully. “Where’d you go this morning?” He’d gotten in some writing before our plane left. “The pig café?”

  He smiled faintly. “No. I went back to that diner . . .”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah . . . weird thing. That waitress you saw . . . she was working, and I told her I was leaving and . . .”

  My smile was frozen on my face as I attempted to play blasé. “And?”

  Again, I had the feeling he was about to tell me about last night, and again, he held back. “I don’t know. Just weird. She was acting really strange when I talked to her . . .”

  Like, say, when he talked to her about events she had no clue about?

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  He shook his head, letting it go. I wondered if he’d tried to apologize to her. He probably thought her obliviousness was feigned as retaliation. “I don’t know. Like I said, she was just being weird.”

  He squeezed my hand, and we settled back into our seats. Both of us held our own secrets, our own guilt. Neither of us had the courage to bring them up. I wondered if that’s how all couples were, hiding small, silent sins.

  Nonetheless, I couldn’t resist asking, “Weird, huh? Wait. . . didn’t you say she reminded you of me? Are you saying I’m weird?”

  Seth laughed. He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it. “Thetis, there are no adjectives for you. And the two of you are nothing alike.”

  “Really? I mean, you acted like we were twins or something.”

  “I did no such thing.”

  “You did,” I teased. “It was like you couldn’t tell us apart.”

  He sighed and rolled his eyes at my joking. “I told you, you’re nothing alike. You don’t act alike. You don’t think alike. You don’t talk alike.”

  “Or look alike,” I added.

  “Right,” he agreed. After another squeeze of my hand, he released it and opened up his laptop.

  Watching, I figured I should be glad he didn’t suspect anything. I’d gotten away with my blunder, my test of his fidelity. I should feel glad. Except I didn’t.

  “People do stupid things for love,” I muttered under my breath.

  Seth glanced at me. “What’d you say?”

  “Nothing.”

  When it comes to jobs in hell, being a succubus seems

  pretty glamorous. A girl can be anything she wants, the

&nb
sp; wardrobe is killer, and mortal men will do anything just

  for a touch. Granted, they often pay with their souls,

  but why get technical?

  But Seattle succubus Georgina Kincaid’s life is far less

  exotic. At least there’s her day job at a local bookstore—

  free books; all the white chocolate mochas she can drink;

  and easy access to bestselling, sexy writer, Seth

  Mortensen, aka He Whom She Would Give Anything to

  Touch but Can’t.

  But dreaming about Seth will have to wait. Something

  wicked is at work in Seattle’s demon underground. And

  for once, all of her hot charms and drop-dead one-liners

  won’t help because Georgina’s about to discover there

  are some creatures out there that both heaven and hell

  want to deny . . .

  Start from the beginning with the very first

  Succubus novel!

  Don’t miss Richelle Mead’s

  SUCCUBUS BLUES

  available wherever print and e-books are sold!

  Chapter 1

  Statistics show that most mortals sell their souls for five reasons: sex, money, power, revenge, and love. In that order.

  I suppose I should have been reassured, then, that I was out here assisting with numero uno, but the whole situation just made me feel . . . well, sleazy. And coming from me, that was something.

  Maybe I just can’t empathize anymore, I mused. It’s been too long. When I was a virgin, people still believed swans could impregnate girls.

  Nearby, Hugh waited patiently for me to overcome my reticence. He stuffed his hands into well-pressed khakis, leaning his large frame against his Lexus. “I don’t see what the big deal is. You do this all the time.”

  That wasn’t exactly true, but we both knew what he meant. Ignoring him, I instead made a great show of studying my surroundings, not that that improved my mood. The suburbs always dragged me down. Identical houses. Perfect lawns. Far too many SUVs. Somewhere in the night, a dog refused to stop yapping.