by Liz Schulte
However, Maggie and I weren’t a good match. Fifty years ago, it would have been fine. I was pretending to be human so dating humans made sense. Now though, I couldn’t protect her and I had responsibilities. She needed to go back and live a normal life: get married to some schmo, have a few kids, and worry about things like whether or not the HOA would allow her to paint her door pink. That was the life she should live and I was in the way of that. However, Maggie was hard to shake. I broke it off with her right after Olivia’s mom died—proving that any connection to this world was dangerous for humans—but she just kept showing up places, and Holden would give me a death look anytime her chin so much as quivered. He had no interest in talking to her or getting to know her, but he still considered this my problem. I brought her into this world and like it or not, I had to babysit her and make damn sure she didn’t get drawn in again. The best way I knew how to do that was to convince her to keep her head down.
Femi’s laugh broke into my thoughts. “You should see your expression.” She clutched her chest.
“She keeps coming back no matter what I say. The dame doesn’t have the sense to mind her potatoes. It isn’t like she can take care of herself either.” I ran my hand through my hair. I was a sap. Should have never brought her into this, but that didn’t mean I was prepared to handcuff myself to her. I let myself get goofy and now I was paying the price. A price that would all but vanish if I went back to the council.
Femi laughed harder, wiping away a tear. “You slay me, Baker.”
I smiled at her use of my slang. She really was the cat’s meow even if she was completely unhelpful. “I just need a way to make her forget everything about the Abyss or a way to redirect her focus to something less…” I splayed my hands helplessly.
“Less likely to have her skin peeled from her body as demons torture her for information?”
“Nice visual. Thanks.” I winked at her. A witch might be able to erase her memories, but whether or not they could pick and choose specific ones was another story. I didn’t want to steal Maggie’s entire life from her. I just wanted her to move on.
“That’s what I’m here for.” She frowned at the nearly empty basket of chicken fingers in front of her and reached across the table to steal my French fries.
After our meal, we headed to Femi’s place to study what we’d found in the house. Her apartment was small, cramped, and windowless. She waved at a chain-smoking goblin leaned against the railing wearing boxers and a wife-beater that didn’t cover his stomach. “I put my rent in the drop box.”
“I got it,” he wheezed back at her before we went inside.
The inside was only slightly nicer than the outside, not that I was judging. I lived in my own pit. She made no move to pick up the clothes strewn about and ignored the empty food wrappers on the end tables. She simply cleared her coffee table with one sweep of her arm and kicked debris on the floor out of the way until we had a place to work. The fact that I even noticed the mess meant I’d been around Holden too long.
Femi sat cross-legged and I followed suit. She dumped out the contents of her bag and we began combing through the contents. A lot of ley line maps and vortexes and maps with seemingly random incidents marked on them, but none of them were in Chicago. The notes were all in a demonic script that neither of us could translate. Femi leaned back, mindlessly running her fingernails through the carpeting.
“Does this crap mean anything to you?” she asked.
I pointed at the map with red lines drawn across it at various angles. “These are ley lines. They are basically lines that connect places with some sort of interest, whether it’s historical or geographical. So like a monument, a historical event, or a big mountain, stuff like that.”
“Okay. And what does that matter?”
“Well, the theory is these lines can help you track places where there’s a collection of energy. Some people think these places are where the veil between worlds is at its thinnest.”
Femi didn’t look impressed.
I shrugged. “That’s the theory anyway. Then this map”—I pointed at the one with triangles drawn on it—“shows where the vortexes are, based on the ley lines. These are supposed to be areas with spiraling spiritual energy, again places of great supernatural power.”
“Okay, well, this is fascinating and all, but why do a group of demons give a crap about all of this bullshit?.”
I laughed. “Your guess is as good as mine on that, kitten. I’m just telling you what I know. It looks to me like they were plotting out their own vortexes. I mean look at what they have on their maps. These things either just happened or haven’t happened yet, but if you hold the map”—I picked up the ley line map to demonstrate—“over it they all line up. Furthermore, if we add in the vortexes, you get the completed project.”
She narrowed her eyes studying the paper. “But it doesn’t tell us anything other than Olivia iced some new-aged hippy demons. Not a damn thing on this is around Chicago. So why are they all in Chicago if their plan is taking place elsewhere—” Her mouth formed an “O” shape. “Unless they’re here to distract us from what’s happening here.” She tapped her fingernail on the one part of the map where the most of the red lines met. “Where is this?”
No town or state names were listed, only the basic outline and the lines. “We need a different map.”
Femi sprang to her feet. “Just a second.” When she came back, she tossed the atlas at me before taking her seat again. I looked back and forth between the maps until I was vaguely certain of the location. “Looks like Phoenix. A little to east.”
“Okay, let’s pretend for a second that all of this isn’t a set up. What would they do there?”
“No idea, but I’m willing to bet it has something to do with either Olivia or Holden.”
She nodded. “I agree. But why would they be so sloppy and leave the information lying around in Chicago, the very place we’re attacking them? The only place we might actually see this stuff? It’s all too neat. It’s a set up. They want Olivia and Holden to run off to Phoenix. They need them to. Should we should check it out before we tell them?”
She had a point, but I didn’t want to do anything until we told Holden and hopefully got a handle on the Olivia situation. Focus was key. We couldn’t let them scatter us. “We need to bring Holden in. He might have some insights on what all of this means.” Over a hundred years of working with demons, he had to have picked up something.
Femi stretched out on the floor, her feet near me. “It’s official then. We have nothing to do.”
“Well, technically I’m supposed to be watching the new location.”
She put an arm over her head and ran the sharp heel of her boot up my arm. “Boring.”
My eyebrows practically rose to my hairline. Femi had pretended our flirtation on the day Uriel gave her all of her lives back never happened, which was fine with me. I had enough women to worry about. She wasn’t looking for a relationship, or she would’ve been with the half-elf bartender. I looked down at her; she grinned back and winked. I gotta say my stomach jumped a bit. She was the only dame I knew who didn’t want to lasso a man with strings and intentions of improving him. She simply wanted company and to blow off some steam—something I could definitely get behind.
I caught the treacherous heel of her boot, holding her leg still as I battled internally. This would definitely complicate my life even further. I ran my hand down her shapely calf and up her thigh until I reached the top of her boot. Then again, what was living without a complication or two?
I slowly pulled the zipper down, waiting for her to pull away. She always pulled away—except this time she didn’t. When I pulled her boot completely off, she flexed her thin foot and moved her ankle in a circular motion. The skin on her foot was smooth and vulnerable. I waited until she was done then ran the back of my fingernail up her instep. Her back arched and she sat up, propping herself up on her forearms.
“That tickles.”
/> “Sorry,” I said.
Her pupils shifted and eyes darkened. “No need to apologize if you intend to follow through.” She lifted an eyebrow.
I smiled, resting her foot on my knee and taking her other leg. “I always intend to follow through, kitten. You’re the one who shoots me down.”
She gave a one-shoulder shrug. “You haven’t been trying very hard since I was healed.” We stared at each other for a moment. Her tongue ran over her bottom lip and a slow smile spread over my face as I ran my hand up her other calf to her warm thigh. Her eyes contracted and lips parted and I unzipped her other boot. She cleared her throat. “Just sex? No emotions or complications?” she clarified.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” I winked at her, removed her second boot, and dropped it to the floor. I gripped both her legs and tugged her closer. I could make the promise, but sticking to it was another story.
She sat up, curled her fingers into the material of my shirt, and pulled me closer—and my phone rang. Holding back a sigh, I looked at it. “Holden.”
She rolled her eyes, moved to the couch and started to put her boots back on.
“Hey, boss. How’d it go?”
I zipped my boots. Baker gave me a helpless gesture, then stood up and paced as he talked to Holden the prince of cock-blocks. I crossed my legs and waited for them to wrap it up.
“How’d it go?” I asked when he turned to me.
“Good and bad. He thinks Olivia is in there, so at least there’s still hope of getting her back. Holden doesn’t know if she’s hiding by choice or is being forced to.”
“What’s the good news?”
“The angel refused to let Holden leave. It seems she wants to keep him around, so it’s possible we could negotiate with her.”
Obviously all of Baker’s blood had rushed to a part of him other than his brain. “Yeah. I can definitely see that working out well. Hey, uptight angel with an agenda, can you put your shit on the back burner and not fuck this up for the rest of us? We don’t actually have anything to give you. We just need you to win this war and leave. Thanks.”
“Well, the wording could use a little work.” Baker grinned, standing in front of me.
“And how is that going to help? We don’t want her on our side. We want her gone.”
“Olivia and the angel sharing time would be ideal, but I don’t think the angel’s going to give up control easily. We’re going to have to out maneuver her so she respects Olivia.” He offered me a hand. “Coming back to the warehouse?”
I stood up, ignoring his hand. “Sure. It’s not like there was anything I really wanted to do here.”
Baker clutched his chest and staggered back. “You cut me, kitten. Cut me deep.”
I laughed. “You’re such an idiot.”
****
Holden looked better than he had in a while. He seemed more focused, his stance more relaxed, and he even smiled a little when we came in.
“How do you know you really saw Olivia? Couldn’t it have been the angel pretending? It’s not like she hasn’t been watching the two of you forever,” I said, walking in.
“I’m sure,” Holden said.
“But how can you be sure?” I couldn’t let it go. The angel creeped me out and the longer we were around her, the more she did. Baker talked about Olivia and the angel blending which sounded like a terrible idea to me. We needed to find a way to extract the angel from her for good.
Holden’s smile grew, and he raised an eyebrow. “I can tell the difference.”
Oh. Right. I pressed my lips together as I walked past him. The urge to swat his ass actually moved my hand and I didn’t try to stop it. It connected to his firm behind with a thwack and I winked at him. He rolled his eyes, but he was so the type to like it a little rough. Holden was normally a walking, talking orgasm, practically throwing women’s bodies (and probably men’s too) into ecstasy just being in the same room as him. But his hyper sensuality had been dulled recently by his surly, murderous streak. Tonight, however, it was back with a vengeance. I sat on the couch and he sat in his chair.
“Where is she now?” Baker asked, sitting next to me.
“I don’t know. The angel transported out.” He looked between us. “So what do you have?”
“Ley lines,” Baker said. “You know anything about those?”
Holden raised his eyebrows. “Let me see.” I handed him the map with the red lines. He scanned them quickly. “Where’s the rest?”
I gave him the other two bullshit maps and he studied them, too. “What are you trying to do?” he said to himself.
“What would they use a concentration of ley lines for?” Baker asked.
Holden sighed and continued to stare at the maps. “It’s been theorized by jinn and demons alike that they could use the ley lines to find an earthly entrance into the underworld.”
“But why would anyone want to go there?” I asked.
“If you can get in, you can also get out. It’s just one of the jinns’ many feeble grasps at freedom. The story goes that if a jinn’s taken to the underworld by a demon, the contract between hell and that jinn is fulfilled. And then if said jinn escapes, Hell has no reason to come after him or her. There have been rumors, of course, of people who have made it through, but I don’t buy it.”
“Why do the demons care? Can’t they pretty much go back and forth at will?” Baker asked.
“Yeah, but they’re minor. The really powerful ones, they can’t come up. I don’t know if they can. Logically, I would think they want to shut them down any escapes from the underworld, but if these maps were in the house, maybe there’s more to it. Maybe they are looking to bring something up, something big.” He tossed the maps on the table. “But I really don’t know. I have a feeling they’re looking for a way to get something up here that can kill the angel.”
“So how do we find this stuff out?” Baker asked.
“There are a few people I could ask,” Holden said.
“I wouldn’t trust anything that came out of that house, Chuckles.” I explained the evening to him and he listened.
“Show me.”
I drove him and Baker back to the house. He walked through it, not touching anything until we were upstairs again. Holden scanned the room and inhaled deeply, then frowned. I sniffed the air to make sure I hadn’t missed anything, and I still smelled nothing alive, only the hint of rot, decay, and ammonia. He dragged a chair to the center of the room and pushed up a piece of the ceiling. His head swiveled right then left and his eyes narrowed. A moment later he boosted himself up and disappeared. The clang of metal against metal made me itch to move forward and see what was happening. The noise came again, then Holden’s heavy footsteps caused bits of popcorn ceiling to rain down over the room. A few seconds later he called Baker over and lowered what looked like a pile of rags and matted hair until it moved. The musty smell of dirt, feces, and sour milk caked the room, but the hollow feeling got stronger. I moved closer. What was it?
Baker lifted the heap to eye level and it burst into a flurry of motion. Growling like a feral raccoon, the creature’s arms and legs kicked and scratched and clawed. Baker held it back, but didn’t let go. The thing fought for dear life. Holden lowered himself back into the room, then stepped down from the chair, wiping his hands on his jeans before he took the bundle.
“No,” he said sharply, and as if the word held some magic directive, the creature stopped. Holden sat it on the ground and to my surprise it stood. No one spoke. Hell no one knew what to say. A small face peeked out from beneath the matted hair. It was a little kid—a human kid. Why would demons keep a child in the attic and how did Holden know to look?
“You chose the wrong house to play hide-and-go-seek in, kid.” I stooped down in front of her, testing if she could see me.
She eyed me warily before she turned her head away, a growl slipping out. She definitely saw me. I shifted so I was in front of her again. “What’s your name?”
At
that innocuous question she charged me, pushing past but scratching me all the same, and pressed herself into the back of Holden’s leg. I looked up at him, and his mouth twitched down as he looked at her. He put a hand on her shoulder and moved her away, then knelt in front of her to make eye contact with the dirty little thing.
“Name?” he asked with the same authority he had before.
She stared back at him, completely blank.
“Why are you here?” he tried.
She turned her head away from him. He used his index finger to move her chin back. “Why are you here?” he asked with infinite patience.
Her huge eyes filled with tears. “Eat,” she whispered.
“How long have you been here?”
She shook her head and flung herself at him, dirty arms flying over his shoulders. Only this time she wasn’t fighting. She was clinging to him for dear life. “Eat,” she sobbed.
Holden returned the little girl’s hug. I pinched Baker to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.
“Ow. What?” Baker said.
I hooked a thumb at the two of them. Baker merely smiled at me as if he never expected anything less from Chuckles.
Finally Holden scooped the girl up with one arm, her head still buried in his shoulder. “We’ll take her back to the warehouse. She needs food and a bath and probably some clothes.”
“You got it, boss. We’ll pick up the stuff. You take the kid.”
Holden started for the door and the dead-vacant feeling moved with him. It was definitely coming from her.
“We don’t know anything about her. What is she?” I asked. We hadn’t resolved anything, just picked up a stray.
Holden shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”
And with that he left. My mouth fell open. “Did that seriously just happen?”
Baker glanced at me. “What?”
“First the king of OCD touched the filthy little brat without a hazmat suit. Second, he hugged her. I may be way off base here, but I’m pretty sure he was offering comfort. And third—”
