Dante Valentine

by Lilith Saintcrow

  Anubis, this is going to hurt.

  Impact. Too soon, I wasn’t ready, the breath driven out of my lungs in a long howling gasp. Japhrimel hauled me up, his fingers slipping in black blood dripping down my right shoulder. Orange citylight glinted off the gun in his hand. My breath plumed in the chilly air. Desultory rain steamed as it met Japhrimel’s aura. He literally burned with a mantle of Power so intense it was like looking into a furnace of black diamond flames. I had to blink fiercely to screen out my otherSight and see the real world.

  It wasn’t the street below, but another rooftop. He finished pulling me to my feet as easily as I might have picked up a piece of paper. Well, that was wonderful; can’t wait to do that again; gods, what was that thing?

  I gasped again, this time dragging a breath in as the hurt in my shoulder sealed itself away. Fine drizzling mist kissed my cheeks. “Sekhmet sa’es,” I hissed. “Warn me next time, will—”

  He pushed me behind him so hard I skidded across concrete rooftop, my back slamming into a climate-control unit. I found myself squeezed between him and the unit’s plasteel side. He went suddenly motionless, both arms up, two shiny silver guns in his hands. His aura spread over me, hazing and sinking in through my skin. I blinked furiously, trying to see, relieved when otherSight retreated. He was damn near blinding me with that trick.

  I swallowed. He so rarely used a weapon it was almost shocking. If he had both guns out like this instead of one, it was bad.

  “Dante,” he said quietly, “if I tell you to, run down the fire escape on the other side of the roof. Do you understand?”

  “What is it?” I whispered. “It didn’t sound like an imp.”

  “It is not an imp.” His voice was so chill and sharp I could feel cold air touch my cheek. “As you love life, hedaira, do as I tell you this once. Will you?”

  I gulped down another breath, lungs burning. My pulse pounded in my throat. “What is it?” It doesn’t hurt to ask, does it?

  “Hellhound.” Steam rose, twisted into angular shapes. “Be still, now.”

  Hellhound? That doesn’t sound good. That doesn’t sound good at all. I froze, barely even breathing. Watched the gaping hole in the building we’d just burst out from. The moisture wasn’t even enough to qualify as rain, more like a heavy mist, tapering off. It steamed away from Japhrimel’s aura, and I wondered why I felt so cold. “They’re going to try to flank us,” I whispered. “Japhrimel—”

  It bulleted out from the hole in the side of the hotel, a low, streamlined lethal shape. I forgot about being quiet and screamed, the mark on my shoulder squeezing, my bloodslick right hand closing around my swordhilt. Japhrimel moved forward, the guns speaking in his hands, fire puffed out in small bursts from the side of the building as he tracked it. It moved with the same eerie speed he did, its eyes glowing unholy crimson. My sword sang free of its sheath. Blue fire crested, spilled free of the blade, the steel’s heart flamed white.

  It was shaped like a leaner version of a werecain, low and four-legged with hulking shoulders and long claws that snick-snacked as it landed on the rooftop and snarled. It was made of blackness, a dark so deep and fiery it burned. A vapor trail followed, its heat scorching the water in the air.

  So this was a hellhound. None of the Magi texts had ever mentioned anything close to it.

  I’m going to have to tell the Magi a thing or two. Just as soon as I get out of this alive.

  Teeth made of obsidian snapped, Japhrimel faded aside; he shot it twice. Watching him fight was always strange, he moved with such speed and precision it was impossible not to be impressed. He kicked the hellhound, a sound like a watermelon dropped on a scorching-hot sidewalk. It howled, a long screeching sound, and its eyes swept across the roof, locking on me.

  My sword flamed blue-white, etching shadows on the roof. My rings sparked, a cascade of gold; the emerald on my cheek burned.

  The hellhound let out an amazing screeching yowl. Its claws scrabbled.

  Japhrimel hit it from the side again, his booted feet connecting solidly. It rolled, twisted on itself, and streaked for me.

  “Dante! Go!” Japhrimel bolted after it.

  I set my feet in the concrete, my sword dipping, sudden knowledge flaring under my skin. I would not run, I would not let him face this thing on his own, no matter how good or inhumanly hard to kill he was. “Anubis!” I screamed, my cheek suddenly flaming with pain as the emerald answered, I leapt forward—

  —and was knocked aside by a solid weight slamming into me, rolling in a tumbling mess of arms and legs, me trying to keep my sword from splitting my own flesh. I hurled a curse at whoever had hit me, got an accidental elbow in the face—a brief, amazing starry jolt of pain.

  The hellhound streaked through where I had been standing, crashing into the casing. Sparks flew, hissing steam as the climate control circuits blew. Blue-white sparks fountained up. I cried out, throwing up a hand to shield my eyes, the light searing through dark-adapted pupils. Heard more snarls, more claws, and a curse in the spiky hurtful language of demons that made my blood run cold.

  McKinley rolled free, gaining his feet in one fluid movement, I spat blood. Shook the dazing impact out of my head. There was a massive crunching sound, another scrabble of claws. Sekhmet sa’es, it sounds like more than one of them, oh please, Japh, don’t get hurt, I’m on my way—

  McKinley, dark eyes blazing, held up his left hand. The oddly metallic coating on it sparkled like quicksilver. “Come on,” he said, low and taut. “Come on!”

  Who the hell is he talking to, me or the hellhound?

  The hellhound snarled—and Japhrimel, his coat flaring behind him, shot it twice in the head. Japh descended on the thing. I levered myself painfully up, watching as he moved gracefully, avoiding the thing’s dying clawswipe as he tore the life out of it. Then he gained his feet, black blood smoking from his hands, and spat a single word I covered my ears against, the hilt of my sword digging into my temple. There was another low slumped shape—a second hellhound, lying twisted and broken on the rooftop. Where the hell did that one come from? Anubis et’her ka, two of those things?

  The bodies twitched, convulsed, and began to rot right in front of me. Noisome fluid gushed out of slack-jawed mouths, streaming between the sharp glassy teeth. The smell smacked into me, I took two steps back, cement gritty under my boots. They were literally melting in front of my eyes.

  I swiped at my face with my free hand. Blood from my nose crackled as I scrubbed it away, resheathed my sword. Japhrimel looked at me.

  “Are you hurt?” His voice was so cold I half expected the foggy air to freeze between us despite the steam wreathing him, twisting into angular shapes like spiked demon runes. I gasped, unable to catch my breath, looking down at myself. I didn’t think I was hurt.

  “N-no.” I glanced at McKinley, who had a gun out and trained on the closest body as it rotted. His black eyes blazed, and the metallic coating on his hand shifted a little, settling back into his skin. Where the hell did he come from? “Where did you come fr—”

  “Time to go,” McKinley said. “Transport’s waiting. There are more on the way.”

  “Human, or otherwise?” Japhrimel’s eyes swept the roof. Where had the second hellhound come from? They were so goddamn fast.

  “Yes.” McKinley’s dark eyes flicked over me once. He went back to watching the hellhound’s bubbling body. “My lord?”

  “Come.” Japhrimel arrived at my side, grabbed my arm, and gave me a once-over, nodded briefly to himself. “Leave it, McKinley. It’s dead.”

  The Hellesvront agent holstered his gun. “Fire escape.” He pointed.

  “I told you to run.” Japhrimel’s voice was the color of steel. His eyes were furious, and his mouth a thin line. The mark on my shoulder turned hot, melting into my skin.

  “I couldn’t leave you to face that thing alone.” I yanked my arm free of his hold. He let me, his fingers opening as if I’d struck him. “Let’s go.”

  CHAPTE
R 30

  I closed my eyes, leaning against Japhrimel’s side. Subway lights flickered as the hovertrain tore down reactive-greased tracks. McKinley watched the interior of the car from where he slumped in a seat, scowling. His crow-black hair was wildly mussed. We were alone on a New Prague subway train, fluorescent light buzzing overhead.

  Japhrimel pressed his lips to my temple. He hadn’t spoken, guiding us down through subway tunnels and finally onto this train. McKinley said nothing, too. I shuddered again, Japh’s arm tightened around me, another wash of Power burning through my nerves as my eyes flew open. It was pleasant, and it kept me out of shock—but I was beginning to wonder if Japhrimel even realized he was flooding me with Power. It was an uncomfortable thought.

  “That’s not something I ever want to do again,” I whispered finally. Where did the second one come from? I didn’t even see it. Gods.

  He kissed my temple again. “I told you to go. McKinley was waiting to cover your retreat while I dealt with the hellhounds,” he murmured.

  Goddammit. Just like a demon. “That was awful.” I contented myself with a noncommittal reply for maybe the first time in my life.

  “I prize you, my curious. I would not lose you.” He spoke this into my hair, his breath scorching-hot.

  “You won’t.” I tightened my right arm around him, my left hand aching as it squeezed the scabbard. “You killed it. Both of them.”

  “Hellhounds for a hedaira. They could have killed you.” He sounded like he was just realizing it. I leaned into him a little more, suddenly very, very glad he’d found me. I had been extremely lucky not to run across any of those things on my lonesome.

  “You were there. So everything’s okay.” I sound like a drippy heroine on a holovid. But it’s true.

  He wasn’t mollified. “If we face another, you must do as I say. Do you understand me?”

  The train rocked, bulleting through the underground tunnels. McKinley closed his eyes. He didn’t look sleepy. Maybe he was giving us some privacy. Polite of him. I still had no idea what the hell he was, or how he had appeared out of nowhere and knocked me down—or why, when I looked at him, I felt the rasp of irritation and distaste rise under my breastbone. I just instinctively didn’t like him.

  “Dante? If we face another hellhound, you must do as I tell you.” Japh repeated it slowly, as if I was an idiot.

  I suppressed another flare of irritation with a healthy dose of fear. The thought of Japhrimel taking on those things alone chilled me. Even though I knew he was capable and was glad he was there… still. “I’m not going to abandon you,” I said finally. “Don’t ask me to do that.”

  “You must live, Dante. While you live, I live.” He stopped abruptly, as if he’d intended to say more and changed his mind.

  “If I run, another one of those things might be lying in wait. We’ve got a better chance if we stick together.” I didn’t think he’d go for it, but he sighed, his face still in my hair. It was comforting, I decided, my body beginning to finally believe I was still alive. My shoulders went loose, thankfully. I blew out a long breath, leaning into the comfort of Japhrimel’s warmth. I was alive, we were relatively safe, it was time to ask a few questions. “You said the imps told you something. What?”

  “The hellhound might be Velokel’s trick. He is the Hunter, and rode with hounds when your kind was not even a dream in the Prince’s agile brain.” Japh paused as the train bulleted around a bend. I felt his attention flare, scanning our surroundings. Finally, satisfied, he continued. “We may not be the only hunters the Prince has contracted. This was… not unexpected, but something I thought unlikely.”

  I absorbed this, worked it around inside my head, and tested it against the flash of insight I’d had while studying the magscan maps. It was worth saying out loud, at least. “The Hunter, right? He might be looking to take me out first, and you think Lucifer may have sent someone else too.” I worried gently at my lower lip with my teeth. “All right. I’ve got an idea.”

  “Save me from your ideas, my curious. What is it?”

  I wanted to look up at his face, but his arm was like a steel bar. The tension thrumming through him warned me; I didn’t struggle. Instead, I rubbed my cheek against his shoulder. Calm down, Japh. You scare me when you’re like this. “Try this hover for float, Japh. Lucifer wants these demons dead—but he doesn’t trust either of us, especially after you pull your stunt. So what does he do? He smacks me with a few hovers and an imp, making as much noise as possible to distract and draw out whatever demon is around; then he sends another group of hunters in to do the real dirty work. Only this Velokel is a few steps ahead of Lucifer, shows up in New Prague just after me—because I’ve made a hell of a lot of racket with the imp on the hovertrain—and he takes to the underground, because the earth will hide him better than the red-light district. Lucas had his hidey-hole underground, there’s a reason. Lucifer never said anything about us being the only ones after these demons, and he may have even wanted to clean us up as loose ends.” Though that wouldn’t explain why he gave you back a demon’s Power. Unless that doesn’t matter to him, unless he can easily take it away or kill you anyway.

  My imagination just worked too goddamn well when it came to the possible perfidy of the Prince of Hell. Japhrimel was silent. His thumb stroked my arm.

  “Well?” I persisted, as an automated voice speaking Czechi blared from the loudspeaker grilles. We were coming up to a stop. “What do you think?”

  “It explains much of the chain of events. And yet….”

  Right. And yet. I’m missing some crucial piece, a piece you probably have. Help me out here, okay? “It makes sense to paint a big target on my back and send me out. The demon in that building called me Right Hand. Even if he mistook me for you because we smell alike, how could he know you were working for Lucifer again so soon? Unless Lucifer made a point of leaking the information. If I was him, looking to get rid of me in the most efficient way possible and still use me for maximum benefit, that’s what I’d do.” But I’m not Lucifer. I wouldn’t ever do this to someone, use them in a trap to catch a bigger predator.

  “Indeed.” He sounded grudgingly admiring. The train began to slow, resistance clamping down. I leaned into him. He kissed my temple again. “I would not want to be your enemy, hedaira.”

  “Huh.” I manfully restrained from pointing out that he’d probably thought of all this before me. “Good. I’d hate to have to hunt you down.”

  McKinley swung up to his feet. Japhrimel’s arm loosened on me. I breathed in deeply, shaking my hair back. I was almost beginning to feel like I’d survived again.

  “There will never be a need.” Japhrimel managed to sound, of all things, amused. He braced me as the train slid to a stop. McKinley swung out the door as soon as it opened, scanning the station.

  Fluorescent light ran wetly over pre-Hegemony yellow tile, and a framed picture of a jowly, scowling man with a thick black moustache was set behind plasglass. Some kind of muckey-muck who had negotiated the Freetown’s charter, probably. Permaspray graffiti tangled over tiles that hadn’t been sonicwashed on the last maintenance run-through. The station was deserted; I had little idea of where I was, since this was underground. “Where are we?”

  “The outskirt, near Ruzyne Transport,” McKinley said, blinking his black eyes once. “I don’t think we were followed.”

  I rolled my shoulders back, checking my rig. It was good gear, and had just come through its first engagement with flying colors. “I don’t think so either. Where do we meet the others?”

  Japhrimel shrugged. I looked up at his face, noted that he had a vertical line between his dark winged eyebrows. When he did that, pulling the corners of his mouth down, he looked even more grim and saturnine. He didn’t immediately answer me.

  Finally, he sighed. “Vann will take the others from the city. From here, the hunt is mine.”

  I felt my own eyebrows rising. “Um, hello?” I snapped my fingers in front of his face. Mc
Kinley frankly stared, his jaw dropping; it was the first sign of surprise I’d ever seen from him. “Excuse me, but I believe I was contracted for this hunt, Japh.” A new thought struck me, one so terrible I almost choked.

  My heart began to pound as I stared up at him, my hand frozen in midair. “They were simply bait, you wanted the Magi to draw out the demon so you could see it.” I couldn’t believe I had been so blind. “You’re not surprised by any of this. You wanted me to go with the others so they could drag me clear of the blast zone, and you wanted me to run to McKinley so he could…. You arrogant bastard.” My stomach flipped over. No wonder Bella had looked so frightened, she’d figured out she and her partner were bait and my assumption that they were hunters instead of support staff must have scared her silly.

  “I am concerned more with your safety than your wounded pride.” He caught my hand in his, pushed it down to my side. “It makes no difference. I prefer you where I can see the mischief you intend, anyway. I expected you would not accede.”

  “I have so many problems with this,” I muttered. Would it kill you to share a little information with me? And I will not be a party to using other people as a lure, Japhrimel. I won’t do it.

  “I counsel you to caution.” His eyes blazed. “I am no longer your familiar, I am your Fallen—not bound to obey, only to protect. You would do well to be silent, my temper wears thin.”

  I closed my eyes and tipped my head back, feeling my jaw work as I struggled to bite back the words rising toward the surface. When I was fairly sure I had my own temper under control I gave him a level glare, bringing my chin back down and half-lidding my eyes. “I suggest you go a little easier on the autocracy, Japhrimel. I don’t like being ordered around and kept in the dark. What do you think I am, some kind of idiot you can just—”

  I barely even saw him move. The next thing I knew, I was pinned against the tiled wall, his fingers twisted in my rig and my feet a good half-meter in the air. He held me up by the leather straps one-handed, as negligently as a mama cat might dangle a kitten, his arm fully extended, his lips pulled back from his teeth and his eyes green infernos. I kicked, struggling, my fingers sinking into his hand; he simply shook me, my head bouncing. He gauged it carefully—my skull didn’t hit the tile.