The cat turned on me. “Of course I do, Rowyn.” He hesitated, took a breath, and then let it out. “I don’t think you understand what he was offering.”
“Power. Strength. Archdemon mojo. Did I mention super demonic power?”
A small sound of mistrust slipped from the baal demon. “Don’t be an idiot,” said the cat, his voice cross and his whiskers twitching. “It’s dark. It’s dangerous. I do think he is trying to help you, in his own sick, deranged, and estranged fatherly way. But honestly, Lucian doesn’t know how this dark gift—whatever it is—will react. How it will respond to your body once you’ve accepted it. And it might not respond the way he thinks it will. As far as I know, it’s never been done before.”
My stomach gave a lurch and I gripped the steering wheel. “I’d be the first.” Damn. I hadn’t thought about that either. Lucian had no clue how this exchange of power would affect me. It could most probably fry my brain.
“Right,” mewed the cat, his tail slashing. “And being first isn’t always a good thing. Especially when dark power is involved. There are risks. Complications. Your body might not be able to sustain that power.” The cat hung his head. “You might die.”
The worry in his posture made a lump in my throat. “I won’t die. I didn’t accept. Now did I?” I said, slowing to a stop at the red light.
“But you wanted to.”
I flicked my gaze to the cat. His eyes were sad, and there was understanding there as well. He knew it had been a hard choice.
“I did,” I said softly, worry settling in deep as I looked from Tyrius, sitting next to me, back to the road. There was no point in trying to lie to the baal demon. I had wanted to say yes.
I let out a little laugh. “For a moment I thought I would. I really wanted to.” Was that my father’s archdemon blood speaking?
“What changed your mind?”
“You,” I answered. “Him. All of it. What he did to those half-breeds. Yeah, it would be great to have this kick-ass power, but at what cost? I don’t want to become a monster.” I don’t want to forget who I am. “It’s fine. I’ll just have to watch my ass and hope the werewolves will forget about me.” I thought of the grimoire again and a pang hit me. “Why do you think they burned it?”
“Honestly?” said the cat as he shifted until he found a more comfortable spot. “I think because werewolves fear and hate magic. They saw us. Saw the kind of magic you did to Steven. I think they burned it to stop you from doing any more magic. It was closure.”
“There are more magic books out there.” The light turned green and I turned onto the next right lane. “The dark witch’s grimoire was just one of them.”
“But the spell came from yours.”
True. I sighed loudly and then smiled. “Maybe Evanora has another one?”
The cat jumped to his feet, staring at me in exasperation. “Don’t you even think about it. I’ll kick your ass. I swear.”
I laughed. “Calm down, little tiger. I was just joking.”
The baal was silent, but I could see he was clenching his jaw. “I said I was joking,” I said again, giving him a smile. “I won’t go looking for a grimoire anywhere near that old hag.” Maybe some other dark witch had one.
“That’s not it,” uttered the cat, his face suddenly drawn and creased. “There’s something else.”
“Tyrius?” I said, not liking the silence.
Tyrius looked at me across the seat, his blue eyes almost black in the shadows inside the car. “Lucian isn’t the only archdemon, you know. More fell. Lots more.”
My head snapped around to him. “Yeah. So?”
“So,” he drawled. “Did you think for one moment that even if Lucian didn’t force his gift onto you, that the others won’t?”
Oh. Shit. Fear flared up, but I squashed it. “I hadn’t thought about that.” Damn. Why hadn’t I thought of that? Because I had thought only he could transfer this power. But he’d never mentioned that it was exclusive.
“It’s like he said. They’d be a day-walking part-archdemon. I think that would greatly interest a few other archdemons. Don’t you? Or at the very least spike their interest and not in a good way. Lucian called it a gift, but the others might have something completely different in mind.”
“Yeah.” Lips pressed tightly, I turned back to the road.
“It means you’re like a free vessel to the archdemons,” exclaimed the cat, his voice tight. “Might as well put a sign on your forehead that says FREE RIDE RIGHT HERE.”
“That’s gross, Tyrius. Why do you have to make things always sound dirty?” I scolded, face tight with frustration. My blood pressure went right back up and my mood soured.
“I just want you to understand how serious this is,” said the cat. The ribbon of fear in his tone chilled me.
“I am taking this seriously,” I shouted. “Look at me. I’m freaking out!”
“Lucian didn’t harm you because he was your other daddy,” informed the cat. “But the others won’t be so nice.”
My grip tightened on the wheel. “I have to accept. He said the gift couldn’t be transferred without my acceptance. I just won’t accept the others.” My heart pounded and sweat had broken out all over my arms.
“Right, because no one can be tortured into accepting a gift,” said the cat mockingly. “Think, Rowyn. Think. They’ll make you accept, and it’ll be real easy for them.”
Because they’re archdemons. Oh. Hell. I didn’t need this right now. “That makes me feel so-o-o much better,” I said as I turned onto the next left.
“The truth’s a bitch, baby. Suck it up.” Tyrius raised himself on the window ledge of the passenger window. “I thought we were going to Gran’s? Why are we back at your place?”
I pulled my car into Father Thomas’s parking lot and killed the engine. “Because. I want to make sure he’s okay.” I breathed through my nose, trying to still my pounding heart and the whirlwind in my mind. But it wasn’t working. This whole archdemon gift was scaring the crap out of me.
“He’s probably sleeping at this hour,” said the cat as he pushed off the window ledge. “It’s past midnight.”
“Tough shit,” I said and unbuckled my seat belt. “It’s never too late to do God’s work,” I beamed at the cat.
“Ohhh. He’s going to be really pissed at you for waking him.” The cat gave me a toothy grin. “Nothing screams faith like a big ol’ naked priest.”
I reached behind me to the back seat and grabbed my bag. “I won’t be able to rest until I know he’s okay.” Which was the truth.
“He has a phone, you know,” said the cat looking smug. “Why didn’t you call him?”
“I’ve tried that. He’s not picking up. Which is why I want to make sure he’s okay.” The thought of something happening to the priest sent a prick of fear through me. But I also wanted to explain what happened to my apartment and pay for the damages, which were plentiful. The weres had totaled the kitchen, smashed the tiled counters, and ripped the cabinets from the walls, not to mention holes in the walls the size of basketballs. That wouldn’t come cheap.
I reached for the door handle. “You coming? Or do you want to sit here and wait?”
A short guffaw broke from Tyrius, and he looked at me. “Do I look like bobble head cat to you?” he scoffed. “Of course I’m coming.”
I pushed open the door and Tyrius bounded out, landing expertly next to me on the paved driveway.
The door thumped shut behind me, and I strutted up the driveway to the front porch. The spring night air was cool, the humidity of an approaching storm shifting making the hair on the back of my neck rise. I loved spring storms, and I smiled at the fresh green leaves swaying in the rising breeze as I imagined the distant rumble of thunder.
It didn’t take long to notice that something was off. The usual warm golden glow from the first-floor windows was gone. Father Thomas always kept the small lamp in the foyer on.
God, please no.
A heavy
lump of dread formed in my chest. I felt sick. What if the werewolves had come back for me and found the priest instead?
If the priest was dead, that was on me.
And that was non-refundable one-way ticket to the Netherworld.
18
Pulse racing, I took the steps two at a time and came to a halt facing the front door, but Tyrius beat me to it.
The cat sprinted across the porch, sniffing the porch’s landing and then moved towards the door. “I’m not getting any wet-dog stench or sulfur. If they’d been here, I’d smell their stinking hides.”
“Maybe they’ve already been here and are long gone.” I didn’t wait for Tyrius to answer as I pounded on the front door. Hard. Again and again I pounded, echoing the thumping of my own heart, until I felt as though I’d smashed a few fist prints into the old oak door.
Just when I was about to continue my endless pounding, there was the twisted, slow, scraping of the dead bolt and the door swung open.
Father Thomas stood in the threshold, his hair disheveled and pointing to the left, his eyes red and looking half-asleep, wearing only a pair of gray jogging pants. Holy mother of all the Gods.
My fears evaporated as my eyes homed in on a beautiful body. I couldn’t help it. I was a warm-blooded female after all. In my line of work, I didn’t often happen across such delightful, half-naked human men. And if it was naked, it was mostly raw fleshed, maggot-ridden, carrion-stinking, naked demons. Not pretty.
I stared at golden ripples of perfectly sculpted abs and a strong powerful chest. Those sleek muscles under that sleek skin looked like polished gold. Was it gleaming?
My mouth dropped. “Jesus,” I breathed, and Tyrius snorted.
“Rowyn?” the priest shook his head, clearly not realizing he was half naked. Half-naked and very tempting. “What is it?”
“Damn.” My gaze went back to his six-pack. “Damn. Damn.”
“Rowyn,” warned Father Thomas, looking slightly more awake and not appreciated my cursing.
“I didn’t know...” I waved a finger at his chest, “that all that was under your black shirt. Damn. Those are some serious abs.”
“Stop saying that,” said the priest, his face reddened, which only made me want to do it more.
“You work out a lot?” God, this was so fun. “Yes, of course you do. All this time the ladies have been deprived of such quality abs.”
Tyrius laughed. “Can you reel in your pheromones, Padre? It stinks. And it’s making things worse.”
Father Thomas looked affronted as he crossed his arms over his chest, trying to hide his scrumptious physique, but it only added more bulk around his pectoral muscles. Wow. He barely had any hair at all, just smooth golden skin.
“Rowyn, what is this about?” asked the priest, irritation flickering over his features.
My face was cemented into a grin. I waved my finger at the priest. “Might as well take the rest of it off.”
“Rowyn!” exclaimed Tyrius, shocked, and I let out a tiny giggle.
I shrugged. “What?” I looked at the priest and smiled wickedly. “He started it.”
“This is a priest, not a male gigolo, for crying out loud,” said the cat and I could hear the laughter in his voice. “Get your hormones in check, woman.”
Father Thomas’s face turned tomato-red and I stifled another giggle. “Go put on a shirt,” I urged. “I can’t think with all that theological hotness in front of me. I might not be able to control my urges.”
“You’re a pain, Rowyn Sinclair.” Father Thomas disappeared into his house only to reappear a minute later buttoning a black shirt. “There,” he said, finishing the top button. “Satisfied?”
“Not in the least,” I said, grinning.
The priest frowned. “Are you here to explain what happened to the upstairs apartment?” His tone was all business and I sobered up immediately.
“Sorry about that,” I said, but that didn’t stop me from feeling guilty and responsible. If I hadn’t gone after the alpha werewolf, none of this would have happened. “I tried calling, but I kept getting your voicemail.”
The priest raked his fingers through his thick dark hair. “I turned my phone to vibrate so I could sleep.” His eyes went to Tyrius and then back to me. “Care to explain what happened?”
“Werewolves happened,” I began. “I was following up on a lead after the last crime scene and they weren’t too happy about it.” I hesitated in my lie for only a moment and hoped the priest hadn’t caught it. I was an idiot. Lisbeth’s threat was real. I couldn’t risk telling the priest the truth only to get him killed.
Father Thomas pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Werewolves,” said the priest, nodding his head. “I figured as much. I saw the claw marks on the door.”
“Don’t worry, Padre,” said Tyrius. “Rowyn will pay for the damages. Won’t you, Rowyn?”
Heat rushed to my face. “Of course,” I answered quickly. Hell, I didn’t have any money for what looked like a total kitchen renovation, some dry wall and not to mention I needed a new couch, kitchen table and chairs. And by the doubtful frown on the priest’s face, I had a feeling he knew that too. Besides, he was the only one who was feeding me work and signing the checks. And he could count.
I searched the priest’s tired face, seeing worry there. “Now that I see you’re okay, I’ll be leaving. I just want to pick up some clothes. I’ll sleep at my grandmother’s tonight and I’ll be back here first thing in the morning to clean up as much as I can.” My heart gave a thump. “I’m really sorry about the apartment. The kitchen...” God I hoped he didn’t kick me out. This was the nicest apartment by far that I could afford.
“Don’t worry about the kitchen,” Father Thomas said softly, seeing my distress. “The church will pay for the damages. There’s money set aside for these kinds of mishaps,” he added with a tiny smile. Immediately my tension eased in the dim light of the porch. That priest was way too good to me. And way too pretty.
“What about the werewolves,” asked Father Thomas, the corners of his eyes tightening. “Won’t they be back?”
“No,” informed Tyrius, and I looked at him surprised. “They’ve done what they came to do. It’s safe to say that they won’t be back to trash your place again. I guarantee it.”
Curious. Tyrius had just lied to the priest. I watched the baal demon and kept my face from showing any emotion. We both knew the werewolves would be back looking for me. But maybe Tyrius had meant only the priest. If the werewolves had wanted to hurt Father Thomas, they would have done it when they trashed my place.
The priest took a deep breath, exhaling quickly as he gathered his thoughts. “What do werewolves have to do with this?”
“I think the fact that he was a werewolf had everything to do with it,” I exhaled. “Young too. Very sad.”
Father Thomas was watching me, his intelligent dark eyes squinting in question. He knew something was up, just not what. “And you think a werewolf’s responsible for the killings?”
“It was just a small lead I wanted to check out,” I answered, unable to look at him. “A possible rogue werewolf. But I was wrong. A demon’s responsible.”
“Definitely demon,” informed the cat, his eyes widening. “Big one.”
The priest looked at Tyrius and then he met my eyes and frowned. “You’re sure it’s demon?”
“Positive,” both Tyrius and I answered. The priest didn’t have to know that my daddy dearest was responsible. I just hoped the archdemon had had enough fun with the half-breeds and would stop the horrific killings.
Father Thomas leaned back, and a flicker of emotion crossed the backs of his eyes. “I got a call from Detective Walsh earlier today. He had... a lot to say about your involvement with the cases. He told me he wouldn’t be needing your services anymore.”
“I know,” I exhaled. “He already told me. It’s not like I could tell him his victims were half-breeds or that the killer was a demon. He probably thinks I’ve been screwi
ng with them... dragging things out to get more money out of police department.”
The priest nodded. “He did say something along those lines.”
Belligerently, I opened my mouth to protest, but he raised his hands and I swallowed back my complaint.
“Look, Rowyn. I know you couldn’t tell him the truth. I know you did your best. You always do. It’s why I asked you to investigate these killings in the first place.”
My teeth ground together, and I forced them apart. “Yeah, well, now I’m out of a paying client.”
“I’ll deal with the detective,” said the priest and shook his head. “It doesn’t have to be.” He looked at me across the threshold, his brown eyes almost black in the shadows. “Were you able determine which race of demon is responsible?”
Yup. And he’s one of my daddies. “We have a pretty good idea which demon did this. He won’t be killing anymore half-breeds.” I hope.
“He?” Father Thomas said, sounding more awake and a little alarmed.
“I mean it,” I corrected. Rowyn, you idiot. “I’ll take care of the demon. If Detective Walsh calls, you can tell him he can thank me later.”
“With a bonus,” said Tyrius, and I grinned at my furry friend.
The priest smiled, but I could see tension across his shoulders. “Can you handle the demon on your own, or should I get the Knights of Heaven involved?” He sounded angry but not at me, and I could hear a whisper of past arguments with the church on similar cases in his tone.
“Tyrius and I can handle it on our own,” I said. “But thanks.”
“It didn’t help that Jax and Ethan were there to mess things up,” said the cat and the priest’s gaze narrowed on the cat.
Father Thomas’s attention snapped to mine. “The angel-born were there?”
“Unfortunately. Always messing things up,” I said sourly. I quickly retold our encounters with Jax and his partner Ethan.
Dark Gift Page 15
