Demon Rogue (Brimstone Magic Book 3)

by Tori Centanni

  I remembered Lachlan’s words from last night. When I’d asked where she was, he’d asked where I’d go if I were hiding from both the Seelie and Unseelie courts.

  I considered that question while I chewed a croissant and drank my coffee. If it were me, I’d find an old Victorian house with iron fences and ward the hell out of it against any magic I could manage.

  But if Jade was fae herself, living in proximity to that much pure iron wasn’t an option, not if she didn’t want it to curtail her own powers. And she definitely wasn’t the type to sacrifice her own abilities for the sake of protection. Couldn’t blame her there.

  So instead, her best option was to go somewhere that no one in the Faerie community would think to look. I didn’t know a lot about the fae but I knew they recoiled from the busiest, most industrial parts of cities. I pulled up a map. She’d worked closer to Seattle than Everett, and I’d bet that was where she was hiding.

  I ran home, found that Silas’ car still had a flat, and, annoyed, headed for the transit station instead.

  Chapter 14

  “Why should I tell you anything?” hissed the kelpie. Its wet mane of white hair clung to its bone-white horse body as it stood under the pier at the Seattle Waterfront.

  It didn’t speak with its mouth, which made it even more unsettling. It answered inside my head, a feeling that made me itch to attack. It felt too much like having the demon who had possessed me back inside my body.

  I stood up on the pier above. I knew better than to get into the water with a kelpie: that would be suicide.

  “Because if she keeps attacking mortals, they’re going to figure out something is wrong. And you know what happens then. Torches and pitchforks.” I bent over the wooden railing, careful to cling to it. Slipping into the water would mean death. I’d bet the only reason the kelpie was even willing to chat was because it hoped I’d fall in and become its dinner.

  The kelpie shifted, dark water lapping against its horse-like frame. “The humans have weathered greater attacks from the Fae before and yet they don’t truly believe.”

  I bit back a swear word. That was true. But I was hoping my appeal would work.

  “She has a friend of mine in her thrall.”

  The kelpie looked up, almost startled. Horses could not smile but I swore I caught the beginnings of one on its face. “And why should I care?”

  He shouldn’t. And that was the problem. He had no reason to help me.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  “Flesh,” it said simply.

  I rolled my eyes, suppressing a shudder. “I’m not bringing you a sacrifice.”

  “Then you are no good to me.” Without any apparent effort, the horse fae began gliding backwards into the water. It was unsettlingly unnatural to watch, as if the kelpie were on a track and someone had simply put it into reverse.

  “Wait!” I called. My heart pounded in my ears. I ignored it. “I’ll give you my blood.”

  It stopped with only its head out of the water and looked up again.

  “Just a few drops,” I added quickly.

  I knew kelpies loved to get blood from local witches. But it was dangerous. Once it got a taste of your blood, a kelpie could track you down anywhere with almost no effort, and it would: a taste was never enough.

  It was also all I had to offer. The clock was ticking and Conor was in danger. Who knew what awful magic Jade might be inking into his skin?

  “A few drops and you tell me where she is,” I said, trying not to vomit as my stomach roiled. “Do we have a deal?”

  “I accept your offer,” the kelpie said, its voice making my skin crawl.

  I swallowed and withdrew my sword. I pricked my finger and held it over the railing, allowing the blood to drip down into the water. The kelpie opened its horse-like mouth, revealing rows of sharp, metal-like teeth. I shuddered and had to force myself not to recoil at the sight. Instead, I kept a hard grip on the railing with my other hand and allowed several drops of blood to fall in its massive maw.

  When it closed its mouth, it retreated under the waves. I pulled my hand back and waited. If faeries were good for anything, it was keeping bargains, so I knew it would come back up. Sure enough, a moment later it broke the surface, sending water splashing up on the dock.

  “She is holed up in an abandoned building in the International District.”

  I glared. “Gonna need more than that.”

  The kelpie gave me the address and then vanished beneath the surface, leaving only foam and bubbles on the surface of the water.

  I turned and ran back toward the International District, stopping to look up the address on my phone at every stoplight I hit, which was all of them. Really, I’d think this curse was more like a curse of minor annoyances, except I knew it could get a lot worse.

  * * *

  I was only blocks from my destination when a pale figure peeled out of the shadows and stepped into my path. I froze, pulse racing.

  The figure was tall and thin, wearing leather attire that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a biker bar in the desert somewhere. Leather vest, dirty jeans, white shirt with fraying cuffs. The only indication he was a vampire was the pallor of his white skin and the fact that his sense of style, even for a biker, was about thirty years out of date.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t my old friend,” the vampire said, grinning like a cat that just cornered a mouse.

  “Hi, there, Philip,” I said, forcing a smile. Maybe if I was lucky I could get out of this with a little sweet talking. Then again, what had I just been thinking about the stupid curse being too mild? Me and my idiotic thoughts.

  Philip had been a fledgling vampire wreaking havoc on Seattle and doing a damn good job of hiding from his sire, who hired me to find him and drag him home. Being able to move during the day turned out to be a crucial advantage in tracking a vampire who didn’t want to be tracked. After about a week, I’d found Philip, staked him to temporarily paralyze him, and returned him to his sire.

  I’d been under the impression that, seeing as Philip was a badly behaving newbie vampire, he wouldn’t be kept around. Most newbie vampires who didn’t behave didn’t stay immortal for long. But it wasn’t my business and I didn’t ask. My job had been to contain the problem, which I’d done.

  And Philip had been one hell of a problem: he’d killed five people before I nabbed him and to this day, his murders appear on true crime blogs as the mysterious “Pioneer Square Strangler,” even though he never strangled anyone. Guess the police didn’t want to leak that his victims were exsanguinated. Either way, a vampire making the news was a very bad thing, even to other vampires.

  Once I handed him over, I assumed the rest was history. So I was a little miffed to find myself face to face with the vampire I’d assumed was dead, especially when he was grinning at me like I was a shiny new toy.

  “Long time, no see,” I said, to keep things light. It had been about a year, I guessed, which meant he wasn’t such a newbie vampire anymore.

  His grin widened, flashing fang. Fear jolted my heart and ice ran down my spine. I surreptitiously reached for the hilt of my sword. “You tried to kill me,” he said.

  “I did not,” I said. I had staked him, but not to kill him. Staking a vampire paralyzes them until the stake is removed. It wasn’t meant to be fatal. “I was hired to return to you to Christopher. Which I did.”

  He took two steps toward me, bearing down on me. My grip tightened on my sword. “Oh, little witch, surely you know what they do to out of control vampires. What you were bringing me to.”

  I swallowed uneasily, but shrugged, trying to look casual. “That wasn’t info I was privy to,” I lied. “I just did the job I was hired to do.”

  His grin vanished and he hissed, rushing forward like an oncoming train. He slammed me against the wall. My back hit the concrete building with a thud, pain exploding up and down my spine. He pressed himself against me, blowing his rotten breath into my face.


  “I’m going to enjoy this,” he cooed.

  My skin crawled.

  I kicked at him, struggling to get my sword. He reached for my arms, holding them at my side. I conjured a small ball of demon fire but he shook me and I lost it, the fire turning to smoke in my palm. His fangs touched my throat and I recoiled, screeching. I waited for the pain of them piercing my skin.

  He grunted and slumped forward. My heart hammered. The vampire, a millisecond from drinking my blood, had become dead weight. I pushed him aside and he landed on the ground with a thud. I saw the stake sticking out of his back and relief washed over me.

  “Glad I caught up with you,” Conor said.

  My heart inflated like a balloon. Conor was here. He was all right. I kicked the unconscious vampire and walked around his body.

  “You’re okay,” I said, rushing toward him and stopping short a few feet from him. I was tempted to hug him but that seemed too forward, somehow, so I stopped short of that. I was still grinning at him like an idiot but I couldn’t help it. I’d never been so happy to see a Watcher in my life.

  “Of course I’m okay,” he said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  I shook my head. The sight of him--alive, free, in his street clothes, dark denim and a black jacket that was far more dapper than his gray Watcher uniform--made the tension melt out of my shoulders. “Lana couldn’t get ahold of you and I got this note...” I trailed off. “I thought Jade had taken you.”

  “My phone died last night. I called Lana back. I’ve been trying to gather intel on Jade’s location. The local pixies in the park seemed to think she was around here.” He gestured vaguely around the area.

  “You spoke to pixies?” I asked. Pixies, like all fae, tended to avoid the Watchers as much as possible. Plus, I really wished I’d thought of that before giving my blood to a kelpie.

  “I have sources,” he said. “Guess you do, too.”

  “Yup,” I said. Murderous water-faerie sources. I was so stupid. After a pixie delivered the note, they should have been the first ones I asked. “Lots of sources. It’s part of the job.”

  I turned back to the vampire. “What do we do with him?” I asked. Leaving him on the street for sunrise would have gotten my vote, except that if any humans happened to witness his spontaneous combustion, it would be a problem. Also, his sire Christopher, an old and powerful vampire, would not be pleased. If he’d let Philip live, he’d had his reasons, and he wouldn’t appreciate us killing his fledgling.

  “I can call the Watchers to come get him. They can hold him for twenty-four hours,” Conor said.

  “No,” I said, nixing that idea. This guy was already on my bad side. Forcing him into the Watcher’s dungeon for a night would only make that worse. I had the upper hand now. I planned to use it.

  I walked over to the vampire and put my foot on his back, leaning down to grab the stake. Using my foot as leverage, I tore the stake out of his heart.

  Philip sucked in a breath and came back to life, leaping up off the sidewalk like a frog who’d been poked with an electrical wire. He flew at me, eyes wild.

  I jabbed my sword in his direction. “Hi again. I just un-staked you. You’re welcome.”

  He glanced down at his unmarred chest, and then reached around his back. The stake had punctured his leather vest. “You bitch!” he yelled.

  “Wow, that is not the kind of thanks I expected. Do you hear this?” I nodded at Conor. “Listen here, buddy. You’re going to walk away now and crawl back into your coffin or whatever, or I’m going to have my friend here stake you again and we’ll deliver you to your sire, and explain that you just tried to murder me.”

  Philip scowled. Vampires were not necessarily anti-murder, but Christopher liked me. I did jobs for him. He wouldn’t appreciate his fledgling trying to kill me in the street, or so I hoped.

  After a long moment, Philip hissed, exposing his fangs, and then zoomed away at vampire super-speed.

  “Asshole,” I muttered when I was sure he was out of hearing range. “And that’s why I don’t like vampires.” I touched my neck where his lips had meet my skin and shuddered. At least he hadn’t gotten a drink. I’d given my blood to enough monsters this evening.

  “You okay?” Conor asked, tilting his head as his blue eyes raked over me for signs of damage.

  “I’m fine. It’s just been a long couple of days.” I sheathed my sword and tried not to wince when my shoulder screamed in pain.

  “Ready to drop in on Jade?” Conor asked.

  I wasn’t. But I also didn’t have a choice. If she wasn’t holding Conor hostage, then I didn’t know what “friend” her note had referred to. Only that whoever it was, they were in danger and needed help.

  Of course, it was possible it was no one and the note had been an empty threat. But I had to be sure.

  “I know where she is,” I said.

  He raised an eyebrow in question. I ignored it. I was not going to admit that I’d given a kelpie my blood.

  “I also have my sources. Let’s get this over with.”

  Chapter 15

  The address the kelpie sent me to was a small, squat brick building with boards covering all of the windows. It was in a popular area, just blocks away from the big Japanese market Uwajimaya, but the building itself had seen better days. The brick was old and crumbling. Graffiti covered some of the wooden boards. I was surprised that it was sitting vacant and abandoned when property values here had skyrocketed in the past decade.

  “She’s in there?” Conor asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

  “So I’ve been told,” I said. The door was boarded up just like the windows and it was hard to imagine how anyone might have gotten inside.

  “I’m going to walk the perimeter,” Conor said.

  I nodded. “I’ll keep watch.”

  Conor headed down the block and rounded the corner, cutting through an alley that ran along the side of the abandoned building.

  I blinked into my shadow sight and was relieved not to find any demon shadows. I knew Jade had nothing to do with demons but if she was part witch and willing to break the law, she was more than capable of summoning them or using brimstone to enhance her magic.

  Conor returned a moment later, moving quickly, gesturing for me to follow. “Someone pried the boards off a side window,” he said. “We can get in that way.”

  Sure enough, boards had been torn off the window and left in the alley below it. The window itself had been smashed in.

  Inside, it was dark and quiet, except for the sound of something dripping. The window was narrow but Conor hopped up on the ledge and managed to squeeze through without cutting himself on the remaining shards of glass.

  I climbed up and squeezed through, but the glass caught my jeans and tore the denim, cutting into my skin. I swore and jumped the three feet down into the building.

  “You okay?” Conor asked.

  “Fine. Glass got me but I’ll live.”

  He frowned. I ushered him forward. A little cut wasn’t going to kill me. It was just another irritation. I should be thankful the curse wasn’t doing worse, at least not yet.

  The room we landed in was an old storage room, lined with rusty metal shelves. At least one cardboard box had been left behind and had melted into goo, which puddled on the floor. The air was damp and musty. It smelled of salt and rot.

  Conor rattled the storage room’s door, struggling to get it open because the wood had swollen against the frame.

  So much for stealth, I thought, though if anyone was inside, they were no doubt waiting for me. No one sends a taunting note without expecting you to show up. That was sort of the point.

  The door finally broke open with a loud crack, wood splintering around the sides. I held my breath, waiting for something to attack. Nothing did. A little tension eased out of my shoulders, even as my pulse raced.

  I kept my sword out and ready as I moved through the door first. Conor followed right behind.

  The next room was a
kitchen or had been, though most of the appliances and countertops had been yanked out, leaving only an outline of where they’d been on the floor. The exception was a wooden prep table, left against the wall, with a faded and rotting prep list still pinned above it. The knives and tools were gone but a magnetic knife strip still hung on the wall.

  There was a swinging door at the end of the kitchen area and I crept up to it, straining to hear signs of life on the other side. When I reached it, I paused and heard shuffling. I gestured to Conor that there was something there. He had his daggers out and got into a ready position before nodding at me to open it.

  I took a deep breath and shoved the door open.

  On the other side of a large, empty space I saw Krissy, tied to a chair. She was straining against her bonds, feet scraping against the ground.

  She tried to tell me something but there was duct tape over her mouth that rendered her words unintelligible. I crept forward slowly, waiting for a trap to spring. Krissy tried to say something else. I looked around wildly, searching all corners of the dark room for hints of danger.

  When no magic flew at me, and no arrows came at my face, I finally rushed forward to untie Krissy.

  “Where’s the trap?” I asked her.

  She shook her head.

  I cut the tape from around her legs and arms. I let her pull the tape off her mouth herself. Some of it was caught in her hair and she swore as she untangled it.

  “Thank god you came,” she said, panting. “I was scared I’d die here, duct taped to an old chair in this shithole.”

  She wore another vintage dress, this one blue and white with matching socks and Mary Jane shoes. She wasn’t dressed for being locked in a cold room and her arms were covered in gooseflesh.

  Conor walked the perimeter of this larger room, checking for magical booby traps. He paused at a metal door in the wall, opening it. Cold air rushed in from outside. He closed it again, the door scraping against the concrete floor as it moved.

  “How long have you been here?” I asked Krissy.

  “Since last night,” she said, shivering.