“How about Eden’s new boyfriend, Darrak? The one that’s going to suck the life right out of her. Do you know him?”
Her jaw tightened.
“I know you do,” he said. “And I have a funny feeling that you just might care what happens to Eden enough to offer up some helpful info.”
“Did you say your name was Ben?” she asked. “That wouldn’t happen to be . . . Ben Hanson, would it?”
This time he took a step back. “You know who I am?”
“I’ve heard things.”
“How about you tell me what they are?”
She gave him a thin smile. “How about you go screw yourself?”
He studied her for a moment. “Does the tough chick act usually work at making people back off?”
She snorted. “Works like a charm, actually.”
“It won’t with me. Believe it or not I’m trying to help you. These are answers we need, and if you don’t want to give them to me right now, just chatting like this, then there are going to be consequences.”
“Story of my life.”
“I can help you.” He pressed back against the cell’s cold wall.
“I’ve heard that line before, handsome. I’ve realized the hard way that the only person who’s ever going to help me out of a jam is myself.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is.”
“Hard life?”
“It’s had its moments.”
“No knights in shining armor?”
“I’m not the type who believes in them.” She swept her gaze over him. “Why? You offering to suit up?”
“No. Not me.” He extended his arm to show her the brand that bound him to the Malleus body and soul. “My choices are limited when it comes to rescuing damsels in distress these days.”
“Too bad.”
“Just tell me one thing . . .”
“What?”
“Darrak . . . he’s bad news, isn’t he?”
She hesitated, but then her jaw clenched. “He’s an archdemon. That’s the worst kind of demon there is.”
“What about any changes to do with him absorbing Eden’s celestial energy? Did you ever notice any change in him because of this?”
“Not really. He puts up a good front that he’s a decent guy now, but I don’t believe it. I’ve seen too much in my life to believe he’s in this because he really loves her. Call me a cynic.”
Oliver thought she had more answers than that. He was fixated on the nephilim energy potentially changing the demon. This bit of info wouldn’t be enough to satisfy him.
“I need to go,” he said. “I’m sorry I can’t help you. Really.”
She let out a long shuddery breath. “If you can’t rescue my sorry ass, then do me a favor and rescue Eden. Before it’s too late.”
“I’ll try my best.” He turned from her and rapped on the door to get the guard’s attention.
The door opened a moment later, and he felt the woman’s warm hand on his shoulder. He glanced back at her warily, but this time she didn’t look ready to claw his eyes out. She looked sad and vulnerable.
“That mark on your arm? It’s just a scar unless you believe differently.”
“I wish you were right.”
He left her, feeling like hell that she didn’t know enough to save her own neck and knowing he’d likely have to see her again later that night under less than pleasant circumstances. But one thing the beautiful shifter had reminded him about was his original goal.
If he could save Eden from the demon who possessed her, then everything else in his life just might start to make sense again.
Eden peered through the fence at their first stop, where Andy said they’d find the only confirmed Brendan Franks in Toronto. After this, all they had was the lead on the address at the Manulife Centre downtown.
“That can’t be him,” she said.
“I disagree,” Darrak replied. “He looks like someone Lucifer might want to have a chat with.”
Brendan appeared to be about six years old and was currently on recess at a local elementary school.
“I don’t think so.”
“Come on, Eden, don’t be naïve. Demonic children are a dime a dozen in the Netherworld. Need I mention Children of the Corn? Damien? Justin Bieber?”
Brendan ran toward the entrance to the school when the bell rang and succeeded in tripping and falling. He sat there for a stunned moment before he started to wail. A teacher came over and helped him to his feet, patting him comfortingly on the top of his head.
“Well . . . maybe you’re right,” Darrak conceded. “Lucifer isn’t a big fan of crybabies. I know this from personal experience.”
The other location was looking more promising with every passing moment.
Eden knew she had to concentrate, but her mind kept wandering. Why did this have to happen today? Couldn’t Lucas wait till next week? Next month? Exactly what kind of conversation did he want to have, and why hadn’t he been more forthcoming with the details?
She could ask a million questions, but it wouldn’t change a damn thing. She had to come through on this. Lucas hadn’t specifically threatened Darrak, but the prince simply had too much control over her demon in residence. After how close she’d come this morning to losing him, she hated that Lucas could use him as punishment if she messed up a job for him again.
“We do need to see Maksim again,” she said. “First thing tomorrow. I don’t want to put it off any longer after what happened earlier.”
“No harm done.”
“Wrong. Harm was done. Just because you’re okay now doesn’t ease my mind a fraction.”
He nodded as they returned to the Toyota. “Fine, if you absolutely insist. I’ll stifle my dislike of that guy for another day. But don’t get your hopes up. He already told you what the other option is if we can’t break the curse.” He said it lightly, but his expression was tight.
Her stomach twisted with part flu, part nerves. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid.”
He didn’t reply.
“And we’re going to avoid it,” she insisted.
“Of course we are.”
“Nothing bad is going to happen to either of us. I promise.”
He eyed her. “You’re still after that happily ever after, are you?”
“I’ll settle for nothing less.” She did wish she could coax a bit more confidence into her voice. “Tomorrow is another day.”
“Yes, Scarlett.”
She’d felt as if she’d been close to breaking the curse this morning. So close. That she’d failed so epically was a bitter pill to swallow.
But maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe that black blob she’d seen wasn’t anything more helpful than one of Nancy’s malformed chocolate donuts.
A mere fifteen minutes later they walked into the lobby of 55 Bloor Street West, a shiny office building and shopping mall.
“Andy’s probably right,” she said. “Brendan could definitely work here.”
“Then why didn’t that come up on his search? I mean, he was able to find the location of a little kid, but not some guy with a job right in the heart of the city?”
She shook her head. “No idea.”
“So slap that bracelet on this guy’s wrist, send him directly to Hell, and we head back and deal with Andy.”
She froze, nearly going over on her high heels on the shiny floor. “Excuse me?”
Darrak looked at her. “What?”
“Did you say, send him to Hell?”
He frowned as if not understanding her confusion. “Well, yeah. What do you think that set of handcuffs there does?”
“These are handcuffs?” She yanked her hand out of her pocket where she’d been touching the cold silver of the bracelet again. “I—I didn’t really think about it.”
He grimaced. “Well, forget I said anything.”
“How am I supposed to forget about that? I’m going to send someone to . . .” She lowered her voice. “T
o Hell if I clamp that thing on their wrist?”
“Likely the reason this dude has the cloaking spell on him so Lucifer can’t find him and drag him there before this.”
“He told me he just wanted to talk to him.”
“Well, what else was he going to say to you?”
“Why would Lucas lie to me?” Her voice sounded strained.
Darrak raised a dark brow. “You do know we’re talking about Lucifer here, right? Not Abraham Lincoln.”
She sighed shakily. “He couldn’t possibly think that I’d be okay with this.”
“If it’s any consolation, I bet this Brendan guy is bad news. If he’s hiding from Lucifer, what else could he be?”
“How can you be so calm about this?”
“Just another day at the office, Eden. Only I haven’t actually been at my desk for over three hundred years.”
She tried to breathe normally, but it was a struggle. There was no reason, in her opinion, why Lucas would have lied about this. If he wanted to drag an evil soul to Hell, then there were other means to facilitate that that didn’t include her. He’d know by now that Eden, despite being a black witch, had issues with being evil. She didn’t want to cause anyone harm unless they really deserved it.
The longer she thought about it the more she realized it was too late to change her mind. She knew Darrak’s well-being—her own well-being—was at risk right now. Lucas might be nice and personable and easy on the eyes, but she wasn’t ready to cross him today. Not over something like this.
She sighed. “Fine. Then let’s get this over with. How are we supposed to figure out if he’s even here?”
Darrak scanned the lobby, his gaze coming to rest on the security desk near the elevators. “When you’re lost, it’s a good idea to ask for directions.”
“Most men wouldn’t admit something like that.”
He grinned at her. “I’m not most men.”
“Touché.”
He approached the guard. “Hey, there. We’re looking for somebody who works in this building. Can you help us?”
“What’s the name?”
“Brendan Franks.”
“What do you want with him?”
Not a question they should answer honestly, to say the least. But Eden was at a loss of a good excuse to use.
Darrak, however, was not.
“We’re with Publishers Clearing House,” he said smoothly. “Mr. Franks has won our latest sweepstakes, and this is our initial contact visit. It’s very exciting for everyone. Do you feel the excitement, good sir?”
The guard regarded him skeptically. “For real?”
“The realest. Three million dollars. A trip around the world. Uh . . . a whole mess of balloons. There’s even a cake. And a party. It’s going to be amazing. My lovely associate and I just need to talk to Mr. Franks and have him sign some release forms and then we do the whole presentation with the big check and confetti.”
Eden didn’t think their reason behind looking for Brendan Franks needed to be this elaborate, but the guard seemed very impressed.
She was also impressed. Darrak was a fantastic and very creative liar.
She stepped back a little to give him space to keep talking with the guard, who was now checking the employee database.
The guard frowned. “Sorry, but I’m not finding that name.”
“Keep looking,” Darrak suggested. “He’s got to be in there somewhere.”
A dark-haired woman on her way toward the elevators slowed and glanced at Eden. “Is that right? Someone in this building won a major prize?”
Eden cleared her throat. “Looks that way, doesn’t it?”
“Who is it, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Brendan Franks. You don’t happen to know him, do you?”
The woman frowned. “I’m afraid not.”
Damn. This wasn’t going to be an easy assignment, but she already knew that.
Darrak waited, leaning against the security desk. He glanced over his shoulder at Eden and gave her a thumbs-up.
At least one of them was staying positive about this.
This was ridiculous. They had better things to do today than chase after half-baked clues for Lucas. If it took much longer, it would have to wait for another day.
Something caught Eden’s eye then. Darrak wasn’t leaning against the desk so much as he was hanging on to the side of it. His shoulders were slumped and a trickle of perspiration slid down his temple.
He wasn’t feeling well.
She’d think he might have contracted the flu, just as her symptoms were coming on slowly but surely this week, but there was just one very important thing . . .
Demons didn’t get sick.
Then what was going on? Or was it just her imagination? “Darrak—” she began. She was going to suggest they leave and try again tomorrow. Lucas would just have to understand that all good things came to those who waited—even if they were the Prince of Hell. Triple-A didn’t offer twenty-four-hour turnaround for anybody.
“You don’t mind if I wait here, do you?” the dark-haired woman interrupted her. She hadn’t budged a step from where she stood next to Eden, gazing at the security desk. “I’d hate to miss any of the excitement.”
“We’re probably going to go soon. I don’t think they can find his name on the employee list.”
“Brendan Franks,” she repeated. “You’re sure about that?”
“Do you work here?”
“Tenth floor. I know this place like the back of my hand.”
“Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions?”
“Not at all. I’d be happy to help if I can.”
Eden wanted to leave, but she couldn’t turn down a solid lead when one presented itself to her. This woman might know where to find Brendan. And if she could get to the bottom of this minor mystery today, then it was one less thing to think about and she could focus on Andy’s werewolf dilemma tonight and seeing Maksim again tomorrow.
So much to do, so little time.
“I definitely don’t have a Brendan Franks,” the security guard told Darrak to their right. “Sorry about that.”
Damn. That wasn’t very promising.
“However . . .” the guard continued.
“What?” Darrak prompted.
“I do have a . . . uh . . . a Brenda N. Franks. Do you think that might be it?”
“Brenda?” Darrak repeated. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. I can see why there might have been an error made. One little dot can make a whole lot of difference, can’t it? Do you think Brenda’s the winner you’re looking for?”
Darrak turned his head in Eden’s direction just as she felt an arm clamp tightly around her.
“Middle name’s Natasha,” the woman purred into her ear. A whisper of sharp steel pressed against her throat. “Nice to meet you. Now what the hell do you want with me?”
NINE
The moment the woman pulled the knife, flames rippled down Darrak’s right arm and covered his hand. All archde-mons had an element to call, and his happened to be fire. He didn’t have a ton of power left in reserve—plus, he was feeling strangely weakened ever since the curse removal attempt—but he had enough to reduce this woman to a pile of ash if he was properly motivated. And seeing her press a knife against Eden’s throat was more than enough to properly motivate him.
He didn’t want Eden to tap into her black magic, but he knew it was only a matter of time. By the shade of her amulet, she couldn’t delve too deeply. Unfortunately, life or death situations like this called for a bit of delving.
“Who are you?” Brenda’s gaze shot toward him.
The guard stood up from behind the security desk. “What are you doing?”
“Mind your own business,” she hissed.
“Okay.” The guard’s eyes glazed over and he sat back down to begin fiddling with his computer.
“You’ve got some tricks up your sleeve,” Eden managed.
&n
bsp; “A few. Now in case you didn’t hear me before, who the hell are you and what do you want with me?” The blade pressed closer, and Darrak was afraid to move too quickly or he might spook her. Black witches, even reluctant ones like Eden, were as easy to kill as a regular human. He wasn’t willing to risk her life.
Eden met Darrak’s gaze and concern tore through his gut. He hadn’t expected this, although he should have. If this chick was someone Lucifer wanted, that meant she was extremely dangerous.
“I’m Darrak.” He forced his tone down to one much calmer than he felt. “That’s Eden. A pleasure to meet you. Now, let go of her right now or I’m going to introduce you to Mr. Third-Degree Burn. He’s not so friendly.”
“Why are you looking for me?” she demanded. “And don’t tell me I just won the lottery.”
“Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes,” Darrak corrected. “Much cooler than any boring lottery. Did I mention there was going to be cake? Then you had to go and ruin all the fun.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Start talking or I’m going to slit her throat.”
The heat of his fire increased along with his temper. “You really don’t want to do that.”
“Maybe I’m feeling like I don’t have many choices here.”
“You’re right, you only have one choice and that’s to let Eden go. Not to quote from old TV shows, but you really don’t want to see me when I’m angry.”
People continued to walk steadily through the lobby, but were completely ignoring their standoff. This Brenda woman was able to work some sort of cloaking magic—much as she’d done to hide herself from Lucifer, he was sure, but on a smaller scale—and also she had the power of verbal influence over humans. Handy tricks, actually.
Suddenly, Darrak’s fire energy flickered and nearly went out.
Damn it, not now.
He was having difficulty maintaining what little power he had left. He wasn’t sure why he felt so off today. Demons didn’t suffer from ailments or illnesses. If they were injured, they healed quickly. But this didn’t seem as if it was from any specific injury.
The pain began in the center of his chest when they’d first arrived here and had slowly radiated outward. He barely noticed it until it now made it difficult to concentrate. Then it accelerated and felt as if something was attempting to claw itself out of his chest, tearing him in two pieces from the inside out.
That Old Black Magic Page 10
