The Devil You Know

by Jena Gregoire

  “Either it wasn't as strong this time,” she said as she breathed through the nausea, “or I am getting used to it, which is unsettling all on its own. Yay for progress.” She didn't particularly like the idea of getting used to anything having to do with demons. It may be in her blood, but she had no desire to become a monster, and that was exactly what they were dealing with.

  “Did you see anything new?”

  “Nope,” she answered, “same shit, different city.”

  “Alright,” Vegas replied. “London?”

  “London it is.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Michael

  The car ride back to the airport passed quickly. Deziree had slipped into a deep sleep, curled into the crook of Michael’s arm almost as soon as they were back in the car. Michael told Lucas what happened in the St. Tropez house and expressed his concern about the turn of events.

  “She made a comment,” he whispered, rubbing his hand lightly up and down her arm, “about getting used to the effects of doing whatever it is that she's doing when she touches the ashes.”

  “Do you think there's more to it?”

  “I don't know,” he replied, shaking his head. “The fact that she's even making these connections is a little worrisome. That demon being here on our plane might be enhancing her demon side. I can't wait for all of this to be over so we can focus on her. I don't want her to lose her humanity.” He was silent for a few beats and then he turned to Lucas, meeting his brother's eyes.

  “Her aura still reads well. She still has humanity left in there but I will say her aura has become a little bit darker in the last few days. But it's nowhere close to black like a pureblood's. Just keep an eye on her and we'll see how things develop.”

  Michael couldn’t hide his concern. They’d always suspected that she’d manifest some sort of demon abilities, but it never occurred to them that another demon is what would trigger it. Lucas put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure she'll be fine. She’s tough as nails. Try not to worry."

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Michael

  London held more of the same. The Guardian who lived in the Hyde Park flat was murdered in the same fashion as all the others. His ashes were found on the bathroom floor as though he were attacked while climbing out of the shower.

  As they made their way back down to the car, Dez’s voice was raspy. “I think we should hit Savannah first. I'm exhausted beyond reason but I want to get this done. After Savannah, we will hit the New York apartment if we still need to. I really want to sleep in my own bed for just one night. I am so tired I can’t even think straight. We can get settled at my place and regroup there.”

  Worry worked its way further into Michael's thoughts. She sounded so worn out and her usual good-natured sarcasm seemed to be lost under all the fatigue. He wanted so badly to believe it was due to the non-stop travel they'd put themselves through in the last few days, but he wasn't convinced.

  “We can do that,” he replied. “We’ll fly first class to Savannah so you can be more comfortable.”

  “Good idea,” Deziree said. He caught the sight of dark circles forming under her eyes. Upon closer inspection, he could plainly see that something wasn’t right. He tried to figure it out but couldn't pinpoint the change.

  “Hey, Dez,” he said, grasping her hand and gently pulling her to a stop. “Are you feeling okay? Aside from being tired, I mean.”

  “Why do you ask?” Her words were devoid of their usual warmth.

  “Something seems off with you,” he explained. “I can't wrap my head around what it is but something isn’t right.”

  “Why should you be trying to wrap your head around anything other than our mission?” she sneered, words dripping with venom. “Maybe it has something to do with how gross I feel. Between the fact that I haven't showered in a few days and all this demon shit, I feel nasty. You have no idea what it's like to be in his head. He's all hatred and cold detachment, totally unfeeling and ruthless to no end. I want all of this to be done and over with.” She paused and her eyes glazed over as she stared off at nothing. “More than anything, I just want this to be over.”

  “We will figure this out, Dez,” Michael replied, putting a finger under her chin to force her to make eye contact with him. “Everything will work out. I promise.” He tried to sound reassuring, but he found it hard to pour conviction into his words when even he wasn't convinced. “Maybe it's time we brought Cassandra in to let her know what’s been going on.”

  “No,” she snapped. “You said it yourself, Michael. The less people involved at this point, the better.” She yanked her head away from his hand and he was taken aback by her sudden use of his given name. It had been years since she’d called him by his name in a serious manner and never with such malice. The sound of it being spat at him stung. “I don't need to be protected and I don't need to be showered with pity. I need a hot shower and a nap.”

  She turned and stormed off toward the waiting taxi, leaving Michael stunned. He shook his head and followed her to the car. After she climbed in, he stood outside the car and glanced back at the building. He was overcome by a foreboding feeling. He hoped, in the deepest part of his heart, that her acidity had been caused by the events of the past week and not by something more permanent.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Michael

  They arrived at Heathrow airport, booked their tickets, and had a couple of hours to pass while they waited for boarding. Michael was relieved to learn Lucas was able to get all three of them first-class seats for their flight. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Kade’s number. It rang twice and after greetings were exchanged, Kade asked if they had arrived in the States yet.

  “Not yet,” Michael replied. “We’re flying in to DC, and then to Savannah. We should be there in about fourteen hours or so. Have your people reported any visitors at either place yet?”

  “No, nothing yet,” Kade replied, “it’s been perfectly quiet. Were you really expecting someone to show?”

  “No, not really. I just figured I would check. When I get to Savannah, I’ll let you know so you can give them the all clear.”

  “You sure you don't need them for anything?” Kade asked. “I can have them wait if you'd like.”

  “Thanks, but I don't think we’ll need them. Everything has been quiet up until now and my guess is the only people who would need to go to either property already have what they were looking for.”

  “Better to be safe than sorry. For my own peace of mind, I'll keep them at a short distance.”

  "Thank you for your help,” he said, not wanting to insult the vampire by refusing his offer, but the extra muscle was really not needed. The three of them could easily take care of themselves.

  “Anytime,” Kade replied, a smile in his voice.

  “It’s likely we will need you in New York. When we get back, we'll meet at the West Village address."

  “Sounds like a plan. Call me then."

  "I will. Thank you again." Michael hung up his phone, confident Kade could be counted on as an ally.

  Michael’s mind churned with what the near future held. The demon and the stone were both in the wind as far as they could tell. If they did manage to catch up with the thing, they still needed to figure out a way to stop him from opening the gateway. Killing a pureblood demon wasn’t exactly an easy task. Then there was still the traitor in the covens to deal with. Allies were going to be necessary. Allies and evidence. Without support or witnesses to back them up, making an accusation of that magnitude could accomplish the equivalent of signing their own death warrants. Michael felt Kade was a good man and an even better vampire. He was fiercely loyal to those he represented in the Walker coven and he had their explicit trust. His people would stand behind him if they needed them, regardless of what was asked.

  Michael headed toward the gate, briefly stopping by the coffee vendor to grab a cup for Lucas and Dez. When he returned to them, she was asleep against Lucas's shou
lder as he played a game on his phone. Michael hoped for what seemed like the hundredth time that sleep would cure what was ailing Deziree.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Asmodeus

  The demon sat bolt upright in his chair. Several times in the last few days he’d felt a tingling at the corners of his mind, as though another demon had been trying to reach out to him. But it couldn't be possible. When the witch summoned him, she had called him by name. Had she tried an open summoning, she could have ended up with anyone shadowing her doorstep, but she had specifically asked for him. Did she bring forth another? But why? He had already made all the progress he needed and was now laying low, waiting for the next full moon to pull on its power and open the gateway. Now that he had the Sentinel Stone, there was nothing left to do but wait.

  He closed his eyes and reached out into the ether with his mind. It took a few minutes but he found it before long. He waited for the other to feel him there and advance but nothing happened. He edged closer with his mind and found a dull humming in response. Ah, he’s unconscious. Even better.

  He concentrated harder, pushing his will, and invaded the mind of the other presence. The unknown demon was dreaming of a drinking establishment of some sort. A sour mixture of liquor and human sweat permeated the air. He drifted above the floor in a plume of black smoke, looking down over the crowd in an attempt to discover his target lurking among them. When he wasn't able to pinpoint the other mind, he swooped down to the edge of the dance floor and materialized into the form of the human host he had taken. He surveyed each of the faces, searching their eyes for a hint betraying the demon hidden away inside. His confusion turned to anger with each human soul he found staring back at him. One last cursory glance across the sea of people finally told him whose mind he’d occupied.

  Her piercing blue eyes locked onto him, filled first with fear. Then curiosity. Finally, fury. All in the span of just seconds.

  He started toward her. The closer he got to her, the humans writhing on the dance floor started to fade into nothingness until it was just the two of them standing a few feet apart.

  “Well,” he sneered with disgust, “what do we have here?”

  “I could say the same, demon.” The contempt in her words was palpable. The overhead fans blew her black hair over her pale skin. She didn’t appear threatened by his presence. Her body language was confident: her back straight as an arrow with her arms crossed over her chest. A few moments passed as they studied each other in silence and then a gun materialized in the girl's hand. Her thumb reached up and cocked the hammer back, her eyes never wavering from him.

  “You know as well as I do, that silly thing won’t do anything to me here,” he said with a self-assured smile.

  “And where is here, exactly?” she asked.

  “Well now, child,” he replied, “you're going to have to answer that one.” He raised his arms, looking around the nightclub. “This is your dream after all.”

  “I'm dreaming.” It wasn’t a question. She genuinely didn’t seem to know. She paused for a moment and then continued. “So you're just a figment of my imagination? Then I should be able to just think you away.”

  “Not quite,” he explained, clasping his hands behind his back and taking a few steps in her direction. “It is true we are in your dream, but I am a figment of nobody's imagination. I came here looking for you.” He leaned in by her shoulder, took a long sniff of her scent, and stepped back. "I'm trying to figure out what you are, exactly. You don't smell like a demon. You reek of human and parasite. Humans can't enter the ether, not on their own. Neither can the parasites. What are you?”

  “What am I? What are you? You're in my dream, dick. And what do you mean by parasite?”

  “Oh yes. I forget the limitations of humans. The word in your world for their kind is 'vampire,' but let's call a spade a spade, shall we? They're parasites, feeding off the blood of their hosts. They're no different than ticks, really, but enough about them. What are you? And why have you been trying to get into my mind?”

  She hesitated before answering, eyeing him curiously. Whatever internal argument she was having over how much information to give ended and she finally spoke.

  “I'm half demon and half witch. As for getting into your mind, I don't even know how to do what you’re talking about. Besides, why would I be doing that?”

  “Isn’t that what I just asked you, half-blood?” His patience was running thin.

  "How about you answer one of my questions for a change. Who are you?”

  “I have gone by many names through the ages. Asmodeus is the name I prefer.” When he spoke his name, the barest flash of recognition and panic crossed her face but was quickly replaced by her previous calm facade. “I see you've heard of me.”

  “Not really. I do, however, think it is time for you to leave.”

  “I'm afraid you don't control when you wake up, half-blood, not as long as I'm here. Now, answer my question.”

  “I already told you, I don't know what you're talking about.”

  “Recently, I find myself repeating this with your kind. I do not take kindly to being lied to.” He stared deep into the girl's eyes, willing the hellfire to erupt in her abdomen and consume her body.

  Nothing happened.

  He tried again and received the same results.

  “Why won't you burn?” His anger boiled inside him.

  “How should I know?” He searched her eyes and saw she was telling the truth. He opened his mouth to speak when a voice suddenly boomed through the air around them.

  Hey, it's time to wake up.

  They both watched as the room faded away.

  She smiled triumphantly. “It’s been fun but it’s time for you to go, asshole.”

  The remainder of the room blinked out of existence and then she was gone. The demon was once again sitting in his dingy Rio de Janeiro hotel room. He got up and walked to the window. He breathed in the night air and nearly choked on the stink of humanity.

  Soon. Soon, we will overrun this cesspool and claim it for our own.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Dez

  “Hey, Dez. It’s time to wake up.” Vegas shook her shoulder gently, pulling her from sleep. “We’re boarding in a minute. Once we’re on the plane, you can go back to sleep.”

  Dez's eyes fluttered open and then she jolted awake, quickly sitting up, breathing heavily.

  “Hey, it's alright,” Vegas said calmly. “You're alright. We’re at the airport.”

  “I saw the demon,” she said, her hand on her chest.

  “What? Where?” Vegas asked.

  “I was dreaming. I was back at home, at Onyx, walking the floor like any other night. Then he just appeared out of nowhere. He had pale, gray skin, and black hair slicked back.”

  “That sounds like him,” Lucas said.

  “See? Lucas has seen him. There's no mistaking it. It was him.” Her voice was laced with disgust. “I thought it was just a dream at first, but once I knew he was in my dream, I couldn't do anything to make him go away. I had no control. He told me as long as he was there, he controlled how long it went on.”

  “What did he say to you?” Vegas asked.

  “He said he could feel me trying to get into his head. I’m guessing he was talking about the connection I have been making at the murder scenes, but he had no idea what I was doing. He didn't mention anything about the stone or the murders. He didn't even know who or what I was.” She paused sifting through the details of the encounter. “He told me his name.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Asmodeus.”

  “You have got to be kidding me!” Vegas leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “I know. I did not see that coming. He didn't know who I was though. I am one hundred percent certain. He was clueless that I was even half demon until I told him so.”

  "This changes things," Vegas said, leaning forward on his knees. He searched Deziree's eyes for doubt.
"Can you still go through with this?”

  “Are you serious? I'm more than fine with it! It doesn't matter who he is, he's a threat.”

  “Hello?” Lucas interrupted them, clearly feeling left out of the conversation. “Who is Asmodeus?”

  Vegas stared into Dez's eyes. Never turning to look at Lucas, he replied, “Asmodeus is Deziree's father.”

  “Your father? How do you know?”

  “I could feel it. And when I realized who he was, everything else clicked. That's why I can access his thoughts. That's why he can't burn me,” Deziree said, leaning back in the hard plastic concourse seating.

  “That’s a brave assumption. What makes you so sure?” Lucas asked.

  The airline attendant announced they were boarding the first-class passengers and Deziree stood up. They grabbed their carry-on luggage, handed their tickets to the flight attendant, and headed for the jetway. Once inside, she explained.

  “He tried when I didn't give him any information. At first, I didn't even know he was doing it. I didn't feel anything at all. He got pissed when it wouldn’t work and flat out asked me why, like I would know.”

  “Maybe it was because it was a dream,” Lucas postulated.

  “No,” Dez replied. “He was pretty sure of himself. It was a genuine surprise to him when it didn't work."

  “I remember reading somewhere that it's believed demons can't burn other demons,” Vegas said. “Maybe your heritage actually saved your life.”

  “Maybe. Either way, I don't think he knows what we’re up to, but I don't think we should waste any time once we get to Savannah.”

  The three of them each took one of the private suites and once their things were situated, Deziree peeked up over the top of her seat. Vegas was in the suite right behind her and Lucas was in the suite to her right. She folded her arms on the back of the seat and watched the vampire, who was too busy rummaging through the complimentary snack tray to notice her.