by S. J. Day
“You should memorize that,” Reed suggested, gesturing to his cell phone number now seared into the Alpha’s palm, “before it heals.”
Chaney’s head tipped up toward the moon and his true visage shimmered just beneath his mortal guise. As his pack bounded toward them, his mouth widened into a terrible maw, his yellow eyes glowing from pain and the resulting bloodlust.
Reed sketched a quick bow, then shifted to Gadara Tower.
* * *
“You hired bodyguards to protect you from... demons?” Riesgo asked carefully.
“Um.. .“ Eve’s mark heated, even though she hadn’t yet voiced the lie.
“Do you believe the reverend is a demon?”
“No! He’s a pain in my ass, but he’s not a demon.” He shook his head, as if she were a troublesome and frustrating child.
“Those two are guarding you like they expect something to run onto the field and tackle you.”
“How do you know so much about guards?” She shifted in an effort to get more comfortable on the cold metal bleachers. Mark or not, a hard seat was a hard seat.
He bent forward, putting his forearms to his thighs. “I was born in Inglewood, raised in Compton, and nearly killed in a knife fight when I was fifteen.”
“Gangs?”
“Sureno.”
“Wow. Is that how.. . ?“ Eve touched her cheek in echo of his.
“No. Got the scar in the Rangers.”
She nodded to herself. That made sense. Military service explained the confident, capable, yet dangerous vibe he gave off as well as the knowledge hinted at by his comments.
Eve wondered if he’d joined the priesthood as a way to save his life. Most gangs were “blood in, blood out”—you killed someone to get in and you had to be dead to get out. But a priest’s robes would be a hard barrier for a would-be killer to get past.
Fact was, the majority of the United States population believed in a higher power.
He steepled his fingertips. “The Army gave me a way out of South Central. God gave me a way out of the Mexican Mafia. Okay, so I’ve told you mine. Now, you tell me yours.”
“It’s a long story, and one you wouldn’t believe anyway.” She reached up and tightened her loosened ponytail.
“Try me.” He bumped shoulders with her. “The Lord keeps bringing you back my way. There’s a reason for that.”
“Father. . . Trust me. If the Lord is deliberately pushing me into your life, that’s not a good thing. Not for either one of us.”
“We won’t know until all is said and done, oh ye of little faith.”
“You don’t understand me, Father. And I sure as hell don’t understand you. Don’t you read that Bible you preach from? God isn’t perfect. He’s just like everyone else. Have you read the Book of Job? First, God brags to Satan about how loyal Job is. Then, when Satan bets him that Job will turn against him if they make him miserable enough, God takes the bet.”
Riesgo’s gaze was on Montevista as the Mark abandoned his position on the lower right infield to head toward Sydney. “Do you have any idea how many times the Book of Job is tossed out as an argument, Ms. Hollis?”
“Eve,” she corrected.
“I expect you to be more original, Eve.”
She smiled without humor. “Have you ever considered that Job’s story might be a piece of a larger whole? Maybe Job is a construct that represents the entirety of man. Maybe his tale is a parable and not absolute truth. Maybe Satan and God are still trying to win that bet.”
The priest turned his head to look at her. “You’re attributing mortal qualities to God, like the Greeks did with their gods. The One True God is above those frailties.”
“Really? I don’t get that from the Bible,” she muttëred. “What I get out of the Bible is a God so high on himself that he has minions running the show while he lounges around listening to cherubs sing his praises endlessly.”
“I can put up with a lot, Eve.” There was an edge to Riesgo’s voice. “But disrespect and blasphemy aren’t on the list.”
She blew out her breath in a rush, suddenly feeling very weary. “I’m sorry, Father. I don’t mean to belittle your beliefs. It’s just that I’m never going to see God the way you do. It’s like we’re looking at different sides of the same coin. Please don’t ask me to come around to your side.”
“That’s my job,” he said gruffly, looking obliquely at her. “I bring God into the lives of others.”
“God is in my life, Father.” Eve looked him at him squarely, willing him to see the truth of her words in her gaze. “We’re working out our issues in our own way. But, in the meantime, that dude on my corner is seriously driving me insane.”
“What do you suggest I do about that?”
“You can come and vouch for me.”
“Vouch for you,” Riesgo’s half-smile returned. “For all I know, he could be right about you.”
“Ouch.” Crossing her arms, she straightened.
“Okay, how about I take you to my office first? Have you been to Gadara Tower? It was voted Anaheim’s most beautiful property a couple of years ago.”
He reached over and patted her on the knee. It was a grandfatherly gesture, but his touch was so hot it surprised her. The contact was brief, over as soon as it began, but the heat lingered. “Give me directions to your place. I’ll run by there in the next couple of days and talk to him.”
“Thank you,” She returned his earlier bump to the shoulder before standing. “I owe you one.”
“Yes, you do.” He rose in an economical, yet graceful movement. Power leashed with an iron fist. “We’re having a potluck picnic at the church in three weeks. I expect you to come. Bring your boyfriend and those two—” He looked toward the field and frowned. “Where did they go?”
Eve’s gaze followed his. Montevista and Sydney were nowhere to be seen. She engaged her mark- enhanced vision, but delving into the darkness beyond the reach of the powerful field lights was impossible without the nictitating lenses that engaged only when she, too, stood in the dark. “I don’t know.”
She started down the bleacher steps with growing apprehension. The moment her foot hit the dirt, a flash of white caught the periphery of her vision. Too fast to be mortal. Lightning-quick, Eve darted after it. It was faster than she was, feinting to the left and right. Several seconds later, she found herself on the pitcher’s mound again. She ran back to Riesgo. The priest was presently rubbing at his eyes with his fists.
“I must be wiped out’ he said. “My vision’s getting blurry. One second, it looked like you were over there. Then the next, you were right here.”
Catching his elbow, she tugged him toward home base. It was rarely good to be cornered, but at least she’d have one less side—their rear—to worry about defending.
“What are you—” He quieted, sensing her preoccupation. Without another word, he bent and picked up a metal baseball bat. Sans the collar and dressed in black sweats, he looked like someone you didn’t want to fuck with. . . if you were mortal.
Eve’s brows rose, but she put her back to his and tried angling him to face the corner. He, being the chivalrous type, tried to maneuver her the same way.
The flash of white came again, but this time it stopped in front of her. An Infernal such as she’d never seen, with white hair and eyes. He was wearing an ice-blue and silver Halloween costume that included a doublet and bombastic hose.
Her connection with Reed allowed her to recognize the demon inside the getup.
“Azazel,” she greeted grimly.
“Hello, Evangeline.”
Riesgo positioned himself shoulder to shoulder with her. “Is this the guy that’s after you?”
“One of them.” Eve sent up a request for a flaming sword. She wasn’t too surprised when nothing happened. She widened her stance and raised her fists. The demon laughed, a sound made more maddening for its rich, deep tone.
This Infernal was clearly confident about his skills. “Stand easy
, Evangeline.” The unknown voice rumbled through the air from no discernable source.
The ground shook and a fissure opened. Blood rushed upward from the depths like a geyser before settling into the shape of a man with massive, beautiful crimson wings.
Satan. Eve knew who it was without any help.
“Holy Mary, Mother of God,” Riesgo breathed. He made the sign of the cross with his free hand.
“Mary can’t save you, priest;’ Azazel said, with a malicious smile. “God won’t save you either.”
Fear blossomed in Eve’s chest like a spreading stain. The Prince of Hell was impossibly beautiful, far more so than even Sabrael. His skin shimmered as if coated with gold dust. Shiny black hair fell halfway down his back, rippling and writhing with a life of its own. The silky tresses moved sinuously, covetously; caressing him as a lover would, framing a face that could not have been more perfect. His irises flickered like flames, while his mouth curved in a smile that was terrifying for its seductiveness. The urge to undress and spread her legs for him was strong enough to tug Eve forward one step. She jerked herself to a halt by clinging to Reed in her mind, like a snapping flag anchored to a pole.
“Ah’ Satan murmured, circling from a distance with a smooth alluring gait. Sex incarnate. “I see why they want you. Looking at you makes a man hard and ready to fuck.”
Eve flipped him the bird.
With a careless wave of his hand, he snapped the digit, bending it backward until her knuckle touched the back of her hand. She dropped to her knees, screaming.
Riesgo stepped forward, but she caught him with her left hand around his ankle. As a mortal, she would never have been able to stop him. As a Mark, she nearly toppled him.
“Don’t” she ordered in a richly nuanced rumble.
He stilled instantly, frozen.
Persuasion. A gift given to Marks that she likened to the Jedi mind trick. Why it would kick in—for the first time—now, when what she really needed was a weapon, was a gripe she would add to her long list. . . later. And while she was bitching, she’d mention the failure of her mark to kick in and give her some ass-whupping mojo.
Where was Reed? Alec? Anyone?
She released the priest and reached for her broken finger, groaning through gritted teeth as she wrestled it back into place.
Azazel tsked. “They teach less and less respect as the years pass, my liege.”
Satan came to her, looking down at her with gorgeous, emotionless eyes. His clawed fingertips lifted her chin and moved her head from side to side. His touch was cool, almost tender. She was riveted as much by that tenderness as by horror. Deep inside her, something trembled in paralyzing fear.
With proximity, the full effect of the Devil’s allure was undeniable. He wore a three-piece suit that reminded her of Reed, but the overlong hair and Dr. Martens were Alec’s. Even his features and build resembled her lovers, as did his scent—smoky, exotic, and deeply male. She wondered if he wore a guise to disorient her, or if she and God just had the same idea of what constituted a hot guy.
“Get away from her;’ Riesgo growled.
Satan shot him a bored but dangerous look.
Eve caught the Devil’s wrists, wincing at the throb of her injured hand. It would heal with time, but would hurt like hell in the interim. “It’s me you want. I’m the one who ran over your dog. Let the priest go.”
The Devil’s sleek head turned back to her. He looked amused. “But the priest is the means by which I will force your hand.”
She quivered inside. “No. You don’t need him. Deal with me.”
“You do not yet know what I want,” he crooned, cupping her face in his hands. His touch was so invasively cold it seeped into the very marrow of her bones, making her shiver violently. “Perhaps I want to defile you, lovely Evangeline. Perhaps I want to do things to you that will break your mind and spirit. Perhaps I want to watch while others do those same things to you. Listen to the melody of your screams until there is no fight left in you.”
She wished she could laugh at his drama, but really, she feared pissing herself instead.
Where were Montevista and Sydney? Were they battling Infernals somewhere? Were they dead?
“Please. L-let him g-go,” she managed through chattering teeth. She might as well be dunked in a frozen lake for all the warmth she felt.
Riesgo growled and began to speak. “I command you, unclean spirit, whoever you are, along with all your minions now attacking this servant of God, by the mysteries of the—”
“Shut him up,” Satan snapped.
Azazel flew like a bullet across the yardage that separated him from Riesgo. The priest was in the middle of a retaliatory lunge at impact, the crashing of the two bodies thudding violently. The ground opened as they fell, swallowing them whole. As the chasm closed as if it had never existed, the earth shuddered like a child who’d swallowed particularly nasty medicine.
“Oh my god,” Eve breathed, so shocked and frozen that she barely felt the burning of her mark. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Satan smiled, his thumbs brushing across her trembling lips. “Such a lovely mouth. You really should be working for me. I would appreciate your cynicism. I certainly appreciate how readily you discount Jehovah’s lies.”
Somehow she managed to wrench free, tumbling to her side and crawling with what strength she could muster. He followed her with leisurely steps, his hands clasped behind his back.
She stopped after progressing only a few feet. “What d-do you w-want?”
“Poor Evangeline’ he murmured, reaching for her. “You are chilled to the bone. Let me warm you.”
The moment his hand touched her skin, warmth coursed over her body like a hot summer breeze. So startled was she by the change that it took a moment before the sudden softness of the ground beneath her registered.
Satan straightened. Eve’s head turned slowly.
It was now the middle of the day, and they were far from the baseball field. Warm sand cushioned her side and the sun blazed in the cloudless sky above her. It was a desert of some sort, barren except for golden sand and large monolithic outcroppings. The chill in her blood began to fade. She struggled to her feet, ignoring the hand that the Devil held out to assist her.
Eve faced him with shoulders back and chin lifted. “Some of your mannerisms are so like hers,” he murmured, with a mysterious smile.
“So like whom?”
“Your namesake.” His gorgeous blood-red feathers fluttered in the oven-hot breeze. “Otherwise known as the ransom you will bring to me in return for the priest. And Raguel.”
CHAPTER 13
“What?” Eve hoped she was having a nightmare. “Where are we?”
“Come now’ he chastised, “your marked hearing works well enough to have heard me.”
He ignored her other question. Was she in Hell? Or some other plane of existence? Her mind whirled with the possibilities.
She turned slowly, keeping pace with him as he circled her so that he never had her back. “You want Eve?”
He applauded as if she was slow-witted and finally catching on. “Very good.”
Eve hated that he moved so elegantly. Hated that he was so beautiful, so seductive, so much more of both qualities in the light of the desert sun than he’d been under the artificial brightness of the stadium lights. She was mesmerized by him, enough that she sometimes lost touch with how terrified she was. It was a trick of some sort, an illusion.
“She’s dead,” she managed finally, her voice raspy from the dry air.
“And what is death, Evangeline?” Satan continued his slow, steady walk around her perimeter with hands clasped beneath his wings. “Mortals think of it as the end, like an extinguished flame. But that is not the way of it. The worthy come to me, the unworthy go to Jehovah. They all continue to exist, just in different places.”
“Don’t you have that ‘worthy’ thing backward?”
He shook his head. “I expected better of you. Y
ou are too intelligent to buy into Jehovah’s lies. In fact, I was quite impressed with your argument regarding the wager. How astute you are.”
Eve didn’t know what to say. In her mind, she imagined that God must be every bit as frightening as Satan. Who was the good guy? Were there any good guys in this mess?
The Devil watched her with a predatory intensity. “I confess, I regret that I was not the first to get my hands on you.”
“I don’t feel the same,” she muttered. “And I don’t see how I can help you.”
“You have everything you need in that eager flesh between your legs.” His words were crude, but his tone was conversational. “Spread them well enough, moan loud enough, beg sweetly enough. . . Cain and Abel will give you whatever you want.”
“They’re not going to give me their mother!”
Why were they so damn silent? Had Satan cut her off from them? Was he powerful enough to impede a God-given connection?
He gave an offhanded shrug. “They can lead you to her, and you can lead her to me.”
“What do you want with her?”
“That is none of your concern.”
“You’re asking the impossible.”
“I will give her back,” he said solicitously. “I just want to borrow her for a short time.”
Eve’s eyes stung. Riesgo had been taken because of her. She couldn’t abandon him and she couldn’t turn down an opportunity to get close to Gadara. She also couldn’t do what Satan wanted in return. Either way, she was seriously fucked. “I can’t trust you.”
“Can you trust anyone?”
He had a point.
“Evangeline, I have no need for lies. The truth works well enough. Remember that I am not the one who created man and wanted to keep him ignorant. I am not the one who commanded Abraham to kill his only son to prove his devotion. I am not the one who burned, drowned, and buried alive hundreds of thousands of mortals. I am not the one who demanded a man be stoned to death because he collected wood on the day set aside for slavish worship.” His head tilted slightly. “Did you know Jehovah almost killed Moses because his son was not circumcised? Yet I am the monster?”
