She smiled, and it was bitter. “It was expected of me.”
“Expected?” I repeated, sensing her vulnerability.
“I come from a strong line. A pure line,” she said, her voice acidic, yet soft. “It was expected of me.”
“Which family?” I asked.
“What?” she blinked, as if realizing what she’d said.
“Which family do you come from?” There were over a dozen families of witches and warlocks that came from old magic. They were pious fools, but not toward some unknown god. They held themselves and their blood to a standard above us all. They believed themselves the closest thing we had to gods on this earth. They were only loyal to their own power-hungry lust.
The witch laughed once more, shaking her head. “You won’t get a ransom for me,” she said. I had no intention of ransoming the girl, not that she knew that.
“Why is that?”
Her lips pressed together. “I’m the youngest of three daughters. The least gifted. I’m not married, and my coven attempted a summoning and failed. If you know half as much as you claim, you know that my family won’t pay. Not for a failure.”
Ah. I understood it easily then.
“You’re a Le Fay.”
She blinked slowly. “How’d you know that?”
“I make it my business to know things. It’s not easy surviving this world as a human. Knowledge is power.”
“You’re not human.” She said it as a statement, but it implied a question. One corner of my mouth curled upward.
“No,” I said softly. “I suppose I’m not.”
“I thought you were a vampire,” she started, hesitant. “But you’re not. You’re something else.” Her eyes squinted. She was trying to figure me out. Turn the tables and glean any little bit of information I gave her.
“How do you know I’m not a vampire?”
“Your lip,” she answered. I lifted my free hand to my face and remembered that before the crash, she’d headbutted me and split my lip. I chuckled under my breath.
“You’re young to be in a coven already. Especially one as ambitious as Antares. Did you choose them? Or did your parents?” I asked her, redirecting the conversation. She let out a raspy breath that I’m pretty sure was her attempt at a sigh, were she not so congested.
“My parents,” she said. “They knew the Antares were planning a summoning. If it succeeded, I could become one of the most powerful witches of the age. Redeem myself in their eyes. If it didn’t . . .” she trailed off, lifting her eyes to meet mine.
“You died, and they didn’t have a disappointment for a daughter anymore,” I surmised.
Harsh, but true for witches and warlocks.
“What do you want from me?” she repeated.
“I already told you. Answers. Tell me what you know about Claude Lewis.”
“Claude Lewis?” she asked, the name clearly not ringing a bell.
“The leader. The one trying to command the demon,” I supplied.
“Kenneth du Lac,” she spat. “He’s a bastard.”
I’d never heard of Kenneth du Lac, though I knew the last name. That explained a lot about how I’d never been able to find him, even after all these years. Claude Lewis was simply an alias. One that I’d believed back then and didn’t realize I should have known better until now.
“How so?”
She narrowed her eyes again. “You can piece together that I’m a Le Fay, but you don’t know of Kenneth du Lac?” She sounded disbelieving.
“I want to hear it from you,” I said, though it grated me because she was right. I did know a great deal about a great many things. I hadn’t seen this, though, just as I hadn’t realized he’d be there last night.
“He doesn’t give a damn about his coven. All he cares about is power, and he’ll manipulate anyone he can to get it.”
I nodded along as she spoke. “According to you, that’s all anyone from Antares cared about.”
“He’s . . .” she searched for an ending. “Different. Worse than the others. While power was all the coven cared for, there were still rules in place. Precautions to shield from the darker costs of magic. Lines we didn’t cross. If Kenneth thought it would get him more power, he’d sacrifice anyone and everyone for it.”
I had to work to keep a straight face and not reveal anything.
While he went by a different name, he was certainly the same man I had been looking for.
“Do you know where I could find him?” I asked her.
“Not a clue. He kept his life outside the coven a secret. He was paranoid that someone was after him. And us by extension,” her voice slowed. She blinked once. I knew the moment she put those two pieces together. “It was you.”
“I searched a long time for him, but I was under the impression he was dead—until I saw him last night.”
“Two nights ago,” she corrected.
“What?”
“It’s been two days. You were unconscious the first one.”
It was like an icy wave had hit me full on as I realized I’d been out for over thirty-six hours.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
This was not good.
If I’d been unconscious that long, it meant the demon was loose that long. The odds that my boss wasn’t aware that not only had I’d failed to kill the coven, but that I’d intentionally let them summon a demon was exponentially low at this point. I wouldn’t have time to play this off with Anders. There was likely already a price on my head.
I took a deep breath.
“You look like I feel,” the witch commented. I narrowed my eyes at her.
“I’d be wary of insulting me while I have this pointed at you,” I said. Her eyes slid to the gun, but some of the earlier fear had edged.
“You don’t want to kill me,” she said, sounding awfully sure of herself. “I won’t go so far as to say you need me, but you wouldn’t have brought me back if you just wanted to shoot me.”
“I was hired to kill you, you know?”
Surprise flickered in her eyes and a hint of fear returned to her expression.
“Not me specifically,” she said, like that made it better somehow.
“No, your coven. I was supposed to put all thirteen of you six feet under before you summoned the demon.” I motioned with the end of my gun and the rise and fall of her chest sped up. The pulse in her neck quickened. Her body told me all I needed to know about what she was feeling, but her face did not. She kept it guarded behind sickness and distrust.
“So why didn’t you?”
It was a simple question, really, with a simple answer.
“I was going to bargain for information from the demon and then kill you all, but I hadn’t realized the man I knew as Claude would be there.” I talked about her death as if it were the weather. For a moment, I wondered if that made me as bad as the monsters I hunted. Then I realized, of course I was as bad as them.
Much as I thought of myself as human, I wasn’t.
We were one and the same.
“But you didn’t.” Her eyebrows drew together. “You tried to get the demon to kill us instead, so you could go after Kenneth.”
I nodded. “I thought I could get the information I needed without having to rely on a creature that only might give me what I want. Demons are notoriously mercurial.”
“You gave up the bird in your hand for the two in the bush,” she said on a dry croak. “And now you have a demon hunting you, Kenneth du Lac is smoke in the wind, and my coven still lives. At least enough of it does. Whoever hired you had deep pockets and many eyes. They will know you failed by now.”
“How do you figure that?” I asked, mildly impressed she’d been able to deduce as much in her current state.
“I heard what he asked for before you shot him. He wants you.” She looked me over, seeming to think about that before continuing. “And you ran. The demon isn’t going to just give up, you know?”
I tilted my head. “How much do you know about d
emons?”
A dry chuckle escaped her lips that quickly turned into a cough. After hacking for thirty-five seconds, she took a deep breath before saying, “Some. Not a lot. I get the impression you know more.” Her eyes dropped to my throat where the long-sleeved shirt covered me.
“Probably,” I murmured, picking at a loose thread on my jeans.
“My coven, what’s left of it, will have assumed I’m on the run. If I’m not already excommunicated from my people, I will be by tomorrow.”
I lifted an eyebrow. While the thought hadn’t occurred to me yet, she wasn’t wrong. Any that weren’t dead would be labeled as either a traitor or a coward. What I couldn’t figure out, was why she would bring my attention to that.
“What do you want?”
Another dry chuckle slid between her lips. “You’re straightforward. I like that,” she said. “I want to work with you.”
“Why?”
“A witch without a coven to protect her is a dead one. Same for wolves without a pack. Vampires without a clan. We all need someone in this new world order.” She didn’t look away. Where many of her kind would rather lop off a limb than admit their own shortcomings, she leaned into it. “Except for you. If you’re strong enough to live and get away from both a demon and a coven—you’re strong enough that I want to be on your side.”
I blinked. “I work alone.”
“And how much good did that do you?” she asked, descending into a fit of coughing.
“By your own admission, you’re not a gifted witch. You wouldn’t last on your own, whereas I managed to capture you, evade a demon, and take out some of the Antares Coven. You’ll only hold me back,” I replied.
She sniffed once. “Maybe. Maybe not. I can help you find Kenneth du Lac, though. Whatever you want from him, you risked everything to get it. I have to think that’s worth something.”
It was worth everything, but I didn’t tell her that. In this world, knowledge was power, and I’d already said too much.
“I work alone,” I repeated. Leaning forward, I reached for the rag to stuff it back in her mouth. For the first time since we’d started talking, she struggled against her bonds.
“Wait! I can help—”
A knock at my door made me pause.
I sat back, looking between my hostage and the door.
“If you so much as try to curse me—”
“That’s not a convincing strategy when I’m wanting you to work with me,” she said. I pressed my lips together, slowly getting to my feet.
There was no way in hell that was happening, but instead of telling her that, I put a finger to my lips in the universal sign of silence. She nodded.
Quietly, I made my way toward the door, walking softly and using my knowledge of the apartment not to step on a creaky board.
Not once in the last ten years had I given my address out, and people didn’t just come knocking on a door in this age. Not unless they wanted to end up full of lead.
Which meant it was one of three parties standing outside.
The sick churning in my gut had a feeling which, and I wasn’t sure if it were better or worse than the others.
I peered through the peephole.
Anders stood on the other side.
Wedging myself between the door and the rest of my apartment, I pulled the gun from my left holster and cracked the door, angling the barrel of my firearm through the three-inch gap.
“Why are you here?” I asked him, not wasting time.
He stared at me, and I saw the answer in his eyes.
“You fucked up, Pip. You fucked up big.”
8
“How’d you know where to find me?”
He gave me a scathing look, like I knew better than to ask that. “Can I come in?”
I raised the gun until it was chest level, then repeated myself. “How did you know where to find me?”
“Come on, Pip. You’re not going to shoot—”
A flick of my wrist was all it took. The barrel of the gun swung downward. I pulled the trigger. The shot echoed through the empty corridor, but not a single one of my neighbors opened their doors to see what was up.
I would say they were smart, but the truth was less complimentary. They were self-serving. Surviving. You didn’t get far in this world by sticking your nose where it didn’t belong, and the people in this building knew when to butt out.
Anders staggered, taking a single step back. He reached behind him and gripped the railing. His face was pale, and lips pinched together.
Red formed a puddle around his left foot.
“How did you know where to find me?” I asked, and it was the last time I was going to. “Answer the question, or the next one goes in your brain, Anders.”
“I had you followed,” he said. Panted breaths punctuated his words with pain.
“When?”
“Last year,” he answered. His knuckles had gone white and his knees trembled.
“Why?”
His eyes rose from the gun he was still staring at to look me in the face. “You had made a name for yourself.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.” I raised the gun once more, this time angling it at his shoulder.
“You have the highest kill count out of any of our hunters. The highest success rate of capture. The boss took notice. He got curious.”
“He decided I was dangerous enough that you wanted some reassurances if I ever left,” I surmised.
He gave me a tight nod. “I was sent to deliver a message.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
Anders’ breath grew harder, more erratic. He wasn’t so used to the pain.
“Three days,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Three days?” I repeated softly.
“To clean up the mess you made.”
I stared at him unblinking. “The mess I made?”
“You didn’t come back. Rumors came to our door instead of you. The boss tracked down one of the coven members himself. They told him what happened, Pip. He knows that you chose to let it happen when you could have stopped it. He wants the coven dealt with, and the demon put down.”
“Demons aren’t easy to kill,” I replied, my voice terse.
His posture was stiff, more rigid than I’d ever seen it, and I wasn’t sure if that was because of the situation, or the bullet I’d just put through his foot. “You should have thought of that before you let them summon it.”
“What happens after three days?” My voice had dropped, the tone soft, but not kind.
“He puts a price on your head,” Anders replied. I didn’t let my face reveal the stuttering beat that ran through my chest.
“How much?”
His eyes narrowed. “You did not just ask me—”
“Do you really want to finish that sentence while you’re still bleeding out on my doorstep?” My eyes flicked down to the puddle of blood that had grown considerably in the time we were standing here. He had to be feeling lightheaded by now.
“One million,” he croaked. The pain was getting to him.
I let out a low whistle. “That’s twice as much as he offered for the coven.”
“You let them summon it. You know how he takes to betrayal.”
Betrayal. Like I owed him allegiance of any sort. My boss was a job, a complicated one, a demanding one, but a job, nonetheless. Any other person would have understood this wasn’t personal. It wasn’t about allegiance or loyalty or trust.
But it was my boss we were talking about. He was prickly by nature.
“Three days to deal with the coven and the demon. I still get paid at the end?”
A harsh laugh echoed through the stairwell. “Only you would ask about a paycheck after what you’ve done.” I lifted the gun once more, this time pressing it into his forehead, between the eyes. He sighed. “You’re a cold woman, you know that?”
“So you’ve told me,” I replied.
“I don’t know if he’ll pay you. I
don’t know if he’ll just execute you on the spot. You really pissed him off with this one, Piper.”
Honesty it was, then. I appreciated it, even though I’d never tell him that.
I lowered the gun to my side, and he let out a breath.
“Three days?” I said, not looking at him.
“Three days,” he repeated with a nod. I stepped back and moved to close the door. “Be careful, Pip.”
I paused, one corner of my mouth twisting ruefully. “Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”
“You did just shoot me,” he said, dragging his foot sideways as he tried to change his hold on the rail.
“And I will again if you don’t get out of here. I have three days before every bounty hunter in this city comes after me. See you soon, Anders.”
I closed the door before he had time to reply, and then leaned forward, putting my forehead against it. Fuck.
On one hand, I was lucky he didn’t just put out an immediate hit, but all that really meant is they didn’t have someone as equipped as I was to clean up this job. And unlike the hit on me, this isn’t something they’d want the public to know about. Demons coming to earth caused panic. Rightfully so.
The real reason my boss didn’t want a demon in New Chicago had less to do with the people, and more to do with his own addiction to power.
“Did you just shoot someone in the stairwell?” the witch asked. She must have taken the door closing as a sign it was all safe to talk again.
“Yup.”
“But you didn’t kill them?” she squinted her eyes, trying to understand.
“How do you know that?”
“You closed the door. I can’t imagine you would have left a dead body on your own doorstep. Great way to lure all bloodsuckers out, and that’s the last thing you need right now.”
I gave her an appraising look. She wasn’t stupid.
“It was a warning.”
“The person at the door, or you shooting them?”
“Both,” I answered. “Still want to work with me?”
She blinked. Then a rasped chuckle slid between her lips. “Yes.”
“The man at the door—” I nodded my head in the direction of it. “I worked with him for years. He’s as close to a friend as I’ve had, and I just put a bullet in him. Are you sure?”
Touched by Fire: Magic Wars (Demons of New Chicago Book 1) Page 5