Demon Rogue (Brimstone Magic Book 3)

by Tori Centanni

  “Giving your blood to murderous faeries is not outside the box, Dani,” he said. He sounded exasperated but his expression had softened. “It’s thinking outside the bounds of reason.”

  “It worked, didn’t it?”

  He shook his head. “You’re incorrigible.”

  Pain flared in my shoulder and I gritted my teeth as the tattoo burned under my coat.

  “What is it?” Conor asked.

  “The tattoo again. It burns. Krissy’s doesn’t seem to hurt. Maybe it really is infected,” I said. “That would be shitty luck.”

  “Maybe. Or perhaps she made the curse slightly different for you, so it would cause you pain periodically.”

  I took a deep breath as the pain faded again and kept walking. “Whatever the case, the sooner I’m rid of it, the better.”

  We turned on Second Avenue, heading back into Belltown. We’d already agreed to leave Krissy at Mark's for the night. She was safer staying there than at the condo Jade had already kidnapped her from.

  Conor and I walked the rest of the way to his car in silence. Once we were in and buckled up, he turned to me and asked, “Where to now?”

  I had no idea. I thought again about what Lachlan had said, about how Jade was probably hiding where no faerie would look. Where else would no faerie look? The concrete jungle, sure, but it was a big damn jungle, and we didn’t have time to comb every neighborhood with a tracking spell.

  “Where’s the last place you’d look for a rogue faerie?” I asked Conor.

  He scratched at his dark stubble and considered. After a long silence, he asked, “Where aren’t faeries welcome?”

  I frowned. “I wouldn’t say they’re welcome most places.” But I knew what he meant, and considered the options. I’d tried to find the place I thought a faerie would least likely want to stay already. So the next question was: what group would she be least likely to hang out with?

  Normally, the fae and witches didn’t get along, in part because we usually couldn’t be glamoured or easily plied with wine. And frankly, we just plain didn’t like each other. There was no love lost between witches and the fae.

  But the fae really didn’t get along with shifters. Ironically, many fae were also shifters with animal forms, or partial animal forms, but for some reason, they really hated human shifters, and human shifters returned the favor.

  “The Doghouse,” I said, remembering the shifter bar I’d been to once in the course of a job. “That’s literally the last place I’d even think to look and I bet no member of either faerie court would even deign to set foot inside.”

  The Doghouse was an ironically named shifter bar up in Everett. It sat in a popular location near plenty of shops and restaurants, but the owners managed to keep mundanes from patronizing the place. Honestly, the name probably helped: no one wanted to go have a pint and a burger at a place called the Doghouse. Between the name and the gruff attitude, most people who walked in turned right around and went to Applebee’s across the street, even before the bouncer told them to get lost.

  “Then let’s go look there,” Conor said, and started the car.

  * * *

  At this late hour, the Doghouse was the only bustling business in the area. Everything else had already closed for the night. Most of the parking lot was filled with pickup trucks, but there were a handful of smaller cars and even a Prius. Conor pulled in to one of three vacant spots around the back.

  “I wish I had my uniform on,” Conor said. The Watcher uniform was a clear symbol of authority in the supernatural world.

  I gave Conor an appreciating once over, admiring the way his jeans did nice things for his backside. I definitely preferred him out of uniform. The dark jeans and a black collared shirt suited him much better.

  “Don’t worry about it. I can be very persuasive.” I winked at him. Conor laughed. It felt good to be silly in the midst of this chaos, even if only for a moment.

  The bouncer was a large man with broad shoulders and tiger stripes tattooed on his arms and neck. I assumed that meant he was a tiger shifter, because it would have been a strange ink choice for anyone else, but maybe I was making ignorant assumptions.

  He looked up from his phone at our approach. “No witches,” he said. His tone was matter-of-fact, but firm.

  “I’m a Watcher,” Conor said, flashing his Watcher badge. “We’re here on business.”

  The shifter’s eyes had cat-like pupils that grazed over me. “And who are you?”

  “Dani Warren. I’m a PI. Also here on business.”

  He considered for a long moment. “Fine. Ten minutes. You’re not gone by then, I come get you and make you leave.” He met my eyes. “I really, really hate when I have to leave my post. Got it?”

  “Understood,” I said. “Thanks.”

  He let us into the bar. Inside, it was the same dirty dive bar I’d seen last time I was here. Peanut shells and cigarette butts on the floor, tables that were sticky with spilled beer and who even knew what else. My favorite haunt was a dive bar but it was way cleaner than this joint. I wouldn’t even accept a drink of water in this place.

  The Doghouse wasn’t hurting for customers, though. The place was packed.

  A few of the patrons near the door gave Conor and I the once over, but conversations rolled on, voices fighting with the loud rock music that blasted out of tinny speakers. A giant bar sat near the back of the establishment, with tables crowded in front and booths along both walls. On one side of the bar was a narrow hall that led to the restrooms and the back door.

  I scanned the crowd. I recognized a couple of wolf shifters I’d met when I worked for their Alpha one time but most were just faces in a crowd.

  And then a couple moved away from the bar, clearing my sightline to the back, and I saw her.

  I sucked in a breath, shocked at the sight of her, even though this was why we’d come here. After all the chasing, it almost felt wrong to finally catch up with Jade.

  But then, Lachlan had known I’d been here before. He’d probably thought he’d given me a very obvious clue and I’d been too dense to get it until now.

  It felt like years since I’d seen Jade, but it had only been a couple of days. So much had happened in such a short span of time. But there she was. She sat doodling in an open notebook, some kind of fruity pink cocktail half drunk in front of her.

  I grabbed Conor’s coat and pulled him off to the side, behind a table full of rowdy guys.

  “In the back booth,” I said against his ear, so he could hear me over the cacophony of clinking glasses and loud conversation. “That’s her. She’s actually here!”

  Conor strained to see around the corner and through the throng of bodies.

  “What now?” Conor mouthed at me.

  The shifters had let her in here, meaning at least one of them was offering her some kind of protection. It was probably some kind of quid-pro-quo deal, and that meant whoever was protecting her might be willing to fight a Watcher if it came to it. On the other hand, having her cornered away from other faeries, like Mace, was a really lucky break.

  Too lucky, really, with the curse still on my head. Not that I was going to complain about small miracles.

  “Arrest her?” I mouthed back. She was half witch. That made her a witch in the Council’s eyes, and subject to punishment for breaking the law.

  Curses may not have been illegal but killing people was. Even if the Council decided that killing a few mundanes and cursing an unruly witch (me) didn’t amount to charges worth pressing, being able to hold her for a few days gave me the opportunity to make Jade remove the curses she’d put on Krissy and me and anyone else. I didn’t love the idea of the Council having control of her, but at the same time, I needed her contained and I didn’t know how else to achieve that.

  Conor pulled out his damper cuffs, a pair silver and iron handcuffs that worked to diminish a witch’s magic. Even a small amount of iron would be painful for a faerie, but at the moment, I wasn’t too worried ab
out Jade’s comfort.

  Conor pushed through the crowd, and I trailed behind. Jade didn’t know Conor. She’d be able to tell he was a witch and probably trouble, but she’d recognize me immediately. I figured it was best not to spook her if it could be avoided.

  I watched from behind a group of young people as Conor approached her table. I couldn’t hear anything but I saw the way her expression shifted from mildly curious to irritated. She got up to leave and Conor blocked her, grabbing her arms as if ready to cuff them.

  But then Jade dropped something. I shouted, but there was no way Conor could hear my warning cry over the noise. The spell Jade dropped exploded like a firecracker, spitting fire as it bounced around the floor. Conor jumped back before it could burn his boots. Jade used the distraction to pull out of his grasp and run for it.

  I watched as she hopped up on the bar, running across it as the bartender shouted at her. She jumped down on the other side, heading for the hall that led to the exit. I pushed through the throng of people who had mostly turned into an immobile mass as they all strained to see what the commotion was about.

  When I broke free of the crowd, I raced down the hallway and out the already-open back door. The alley was empty. Jade was gone.

  I swore, clenching my fists.

  She’d gotten away. I’d lost her again. And now I’d have to track her down all over again, and worse, it would be harder now that she knew a Watcher was after her, too.

  I stood there in the cold misty rain and felt the chill sink into my bones. Jade was free and it was my fault. She’d gotten away because like an idiot, I’d let her. I should have known she’d bolt. I should have blocked the door instead of thinking Conor had a chance in hell of arresting her peacefully.

  I stared into the darkness, exhausted and ready to collapse. My sword was ruined, my shoulder and leg still throbbed, and I was still cursed. I’d done nothing but chase this half-faerie half-witch down for days and now that I’d finally found her, I’d let her get away.

  Conor sidled up to me, still holding the cuffs. “Where’d she go?”

  I shook my head. “We lost her.”

  I sounded defeated because I was. Jade was going to keep running around doing bad things and I’d screwed up our chance to stop her.

  A crow cawed overhead. Hope swelled in my chest. The crow flew a tight circle and then darted to the left. It had to be Penelope. What were the odds it was just some random crow?

  I ran after it. Conor didn’t ask questions. He just followed.

  I really hoped it was Penelope because otherwise, I was following some random crow to gods-only-knew where.

  It turned the next corner and I kept running, legs burning as I tried to pick up my speed in hopes of catching up to Jade.

  Chapter 18

  My lungs burned as I sucked in breaths of frigid air, my feet pounding against the pavement. Rain misted through the air like a thick fog, not falling so much as clinging to my face, hair, and clothes as I followed the crow soaring overhead.

  Conor ran along beside me. I was pretty sure he thought Penelope was my pet or familiar or something. I was glad he didn’t ask because I didn’t want to lie to him more than necessary, and Penelope’s secret wasn’t mine to give away.

  Finally, when my legs felt like jelly and I didn’t think I could run anymore, the crow stopped and circled over an empty building in a small shopping center that housed a grocery store, a card game store, and a dentist office. The building Penelope perched on top of it had “For Lease” signs prominent in the window. The crow cawed.

  “Thanks,” I whispered. I seriously owed her. I needed to figure out some way to really thank her one of these days. She kept saving my ass.

  The tattoo on my arm burned. I didn’t know if it was signaling Jade’s presence or if the timing were coincidence, but anger burned in my belly. She’d inked me, cursed me, and then lured me into a trap to save another woman whom she’d done the same thing to. On top of that, she’d gotten at least three people killed.

  I reached for my sword, remembering that it was gone. I felt naked without it.

  “If she’s in there, one of us should take the front and the other should take the back,” Conor said.

  “Good plan. Can I borrow a dagger?”

  Conor handed me one of his silver daggers with no hesitation. His hand brushed mine and the dagger was warm from him holding it. It made my skin tingle.

  “Great. I’ll take the back.” I headed around the side of the building, clutching the hilt of the dagger. It was sharp and the blade caught the light, but it was so much lighter and shorter than the blade I was used to.

  “Hey, be careful,” Conor said.

  I smiled. “I’m always careful.”

  Conor barked out a laugh. “Don’t lie to me, Warren.”

  I made my way around the building to the backdoor, which was closed. That was a good sign. It meant she hadn’t come running out the back. I approached the door carefully, trying the handle as silently as I could manage. It was locked.

  I heard glass break around the front. I didn’t know whether Conor had broken his way in or Jade had broken her way out. I resisted the urge to run over and see. Someone had to block the exit in case she was still inside.

  I quickly pulled out my lock picks and got to work. It didn’t take long. The lock in the door handle wasn’t that complex and the deadbolt wasn’t even locked.

  I yanked the door open and stuffed the lock picks back into my pocket. Then I clutched the dagger tightly as I moved into the dark, empty building. The air smelled of dust but not much else. I fought off the urge to sneeze and inched forward until I hit a door. I pressed my ear to it. On the other side, I heard sounds of a scuffle.

  I took a deep breath and regretted it when I got lungs full of dust. I coughed quietly and then wrenched the door open.

  Jade and Conor were tousling on the floor, Conor trying to cuff her while she squirmed and fought against him. I rushed over as Conor managed to snap one cuff around her wrist. I bent down and aimed the tip of the dagger at her forehead.

  “Cooperate and the Watchers will go easier on you,” I said.

  She laughed in my face. Which, I mean, fair. The Watchers never went easy on anyone.

  She squirmed out of Conor’s grasp and reached for something in her pocket. I jabbed the knife forward but she leapt up, one cuff on her wrist, the other dangling loose.

  “You’re not allowed to arrest me. I’m not one of yours,” she said, still digging in her pocket.

  “You’re part witch,” Conor said. “That’s all that matters.”

  “Maybe, but I’m also one of the fae,” she said, and finally withdrew a small branch.

  I snorted at her. “That’s your weapon?” And here I thought my dagger was weak-sauce.

  She held the little twig up and blew on it. It grew, vines suddenly snaking out as the stick expanded. She dropped it on the floor. Vines thickened until they were the width of garden hoses, whipping out towards our legs and feet. Vines snaked around Conor’s ankles, yanking him off balance.

  Even as he hit the ground, he was using his dagger to cut himself free, but more vines came out of the stick, which had swelled to the size of a log.

  I jumped over the vines, dancing around them like I was on some kind of masochistic obstacle course. She’d gotten away before. I wasn’t letting it happen again.

  A vine wound around my ankle while I was mid-step, tugging on my leg and pulling me sideways. I swayed, nearly losing my balance but caught myself. I chopped the vine off with the dagger, wishing I could burn this ridiculous plant trap with demon fire.

  Conor remained low to the ground, chopping at vines with his blade as quickly as they grew.

  “I’m going after her,” I called. I managed to hop over the log the vines were growing out of and reached the door. She’d gone out the front and as I hit the sidewalk, I saw her running past the closed grocery store.

  My legs protested as I broke into yet an
other run, but I ignored them and pushed forward. Jade was fast: that was another advantage of being part-faerie.

  She made it around the side of the grocery store and suddenly skidded to a stop. I stopped inches from her, conjuring demon fire now that Conor wasn’t around.

  “Stop or I’ll burn you to ash,” I yelled. Although I was still catching my breath and it didn’t sound as threatening as I’d hoped.

  She laughed again. “You’re more likely to burn yourself with my curse on your head.”

  “All your curse has done is make me hit all the red stoplights and give me a weird burning sensation,” I lied, although it hadn’t done a lot more than that. “Maybe your ink is losing its potency.”

  She frowned, looking bothered by that possibility. “Either way, I can destroy you and no one can do anything about it. I’m not a witch and I’m not a faerie, but I’m also both! That makes me better than everyone.”

  I stared at her. She couldn’t be serious. But she was. She honestly believed that or at least, she wanted to.

  “You think being some weird hybrid makes you better?” I stood there holding demon fire, like a huge hypocrite. That was what I was, in some ways: able to use demon magic and witch magic at the same time. But it didn’t make me better. More powerful, maybe, but also I was constantly doubting myself and woefully unprepared for situations where I couldn’t use the demon magic. “Seems to me it just means you can’t master either magic.”

  I threw my fireball at her. She dodged it and tossed a spell at me in return. It exploded at my feet but it was just another firecracker. It flamed and zipped around the pavement for a moment before extinguishing itself.

  “Cute trick,” I said, and gathered more blue flame. I was about to throw it at her chest when the air shifted and a body materialized in front of her.

  Mace.

  I swore.

  Mace’s tall frame and broad shoulders completely blocked Jade from my view. He now wore leather armor over his cotton shirt and he held a broadsword. The sword’s blade was wide, double-edged, and looked sharp. No doubt it had magic to make it as sharp as my old sword. I swallowed, pulse quickening.