“Some demons can open doors, we already know that.” He scraped his nails down his cheek, the short, five o’clock stubbing rasping under his touch. “It can’t be easy, otherwise would have been overrun with demons long ago. God never would have given the demons the power to escape. Although, I’ve got to admit, I wonder why He gave anybody the power to open the doorways to the netherplains, why any of the demons trapped there were allowed to escape at all. Wouldn’t life be easier if they were seriously, permanently and completely trapped?
It seemed that way to me.
One of the many questions I’ve got for when I finally meet my maker. I sent a brief prayer to the heavens that it wouldn’t be anytime soon—not today, not tonight. Preferably not for a long time.
I don’t really fear dying. It happens to all of us and I already know where I’m going. But all of a sudden, life was looking really interesting for me and I wanted to see where it takes me.
Where it might take us—Rip and me.
Plus, if I had my choice, I’d rather not get taken by some psycho Grimm who had to go and turn to the dark side.
“You got any idea why she’s doing this?” I toyed with his medallion and stared off into the distance.
He sighed. I could feel the warmth of his breath skating along my cheek, dancing through my hair. “No.”
“None?” Pushing up onto my elbow, I looked at him.
He had that broody look on his face again, and I wanted to kiss him again. But now I wanted to kiss him because I could feel the pain in him and I just wanted to take it away. He cupped my cheek and stroked a thumb across my lips. “No, Greta. No idea at all.”
Hot tingles started dancing inside me any time he touched me. I wanted to bite his thumb, then suck on it. Then kiss my way up his arm, along his shoulder until I could bury my face against his neck and breathe him in.
But I didn’t. Deep inside, somewhere past this mind-blowing hunger for him, somewhere past all the confusion and hope brewing inside me, there was something else. A part of me, getting ready for a confrontation.
I don’t know if it was instinct, some foreknowledge given to me so I could prepare or what. But the time for lying with my lover had come to an end.
For now.
Only for now.
I wouldn’t let myself think otherwise.
I huffed out a breath and made myself sit up. “We need to get Mandy up here. Talk. I need to know as much as you can tell me about Fae.” I grimaced and looked down. “And I need a shower.”
Rip sat up behind me and pressed a kiss to my shoulder. He slid an arm around me, pressing his palm against my belly.
We sat there like that for a long moment and then, as though by some unspoken agreement, we pulled apart at the same time. I rose from the bed and turned to watch Rip as he did the same. He winced as he stretched. I knew the feeling—the muscles in my belly still hadn’t forgotten the damage the bocan had done.
A few minutes later, I was standing under the showerhead, scrubbing my hair, my body. I didn’t linger. There wasn’t any time. I finished in what might be record time for me. Water sluiced off my body as I grabbed a towel and rubbed myself dry. I hadn’t no more than pulled on a pair of panties when Rip appeared in the door.
He didn’t say a word as he stripped away his jeans and climbed into the shower. His shirt was trashed, but I’d gone through my clothes and found an old, faded, oversized blue T-shirt that I wore to bed sometimes. His jeans had been washed, just a few faint marks where the blood hadn’t come completely out.
Blood can be damn hard to wash away.
I grabbed the blue T-shirt and tossed it onto the sink for him after I finished dressing. And I only peeked towards the shower once on my way out. Okay. Twice. No woman who has ever seen Rip could blame me for that.
I didn’t mess with drying my hair, just quickly braided the damp mess and left it at that. Mandy was back upstairs, eying the bodies. They were starting to smell. We needed to get rid of them—hell, we needed to get rid of them yesterday, but I couldn’t leave Rip alone and I wasn’t about to let Mandy deal with it.
And now…now, I just didn’t know if there was time.
Rip strode in the living after me and stopped abruptly to stare at the covered corpses. I shot him a glance and asked, “How did you get rid of the last bocan?”
He tugged on his medallion. I grinned at him. “Bet he appreciated that.”
His lips quirked in a smile.
“Think he’d take care of this one?”
“I don’t know. But we’ll worry about the bodies later.” He had a strange look in his eyes. I don’t know if he knew it, but his hand kept opening and closing. Flexing into a fist. He wanted his weapons.
I pointed to the chest I toted along when I moved from town to town. “They are in there,” I said. “Even that staff thing, although I was seriously tempted to hide that one and keep it.”
“It’s not balanced for you. Weight’s wrong. I’ll have one made for you. After.” He strode to the chest and crouched down in front of it. The moment he had one of his blades in his hand, I could see the muscles in his back and shoulders relax minutely.
Mandy stood in the doorway of the stairwell, staring at the bodies with revulsion. “How much longer am I going to have to stay in a house with corpses?”
“You won’t have to worry about it after tonight,” I told her absently.
Either we’d deal with Fae, win, and then deal with the bodies and leave town.
Or Fae would kill us.
Either way, our worries would be over.
“How strong is she?” I asked once Rip straightened up. He’d finished tucking away about half of his blades. The rest would go into his trashed leather coat.
“Very.” He leaned back against a wall with his arms crossed over his chest. “Physically, she’s only an average fighter.”
Average for us was pretty much like me. I could tangle hand-to-hand with pretty much any human and survive. But the demons, especially some of them, I had to be faster, stronger and use long, pointed objects to survive.
Rip was the better fighter. He was kind of like the supreme fighter. It’s part of his gift, I think—and I bet that’s part of why he was sent after Fae. He knew her better than most, and he’s a born predator. He’ll hunt and hunt and never give up.
“What about the not-physical things?” My coercion only worked on things that were more human than not. Demon-possessed humans, once they were all the way gone, didn’t react to coercion.
But Fae was still basically human. Just a little more. Like me. Like Rip. I didn’t know if it worked on Grimms or not.
“Hypnosis. If she catches your eyes, that could be all it takes for her to have you.”
I nodded. “Okay, so don’t let her catch my gaze. When I use coercion, do you feel it?”
His lids flickered. “Yes.”
“How much?”
“Depends on how hard you press, I think. I’ve only felt it twice.” He glanced at Mandy. “You felt stronger when you pushed the girl, even though it didn’t seem like you were using as much as before.”
Before…back all those years ago when we’d worked together. A few weeks together. One night together. Then years of emptiness because I was too much a coward to hang around and see what happened.
“Will it work on her?” I asked.
Rip shook his head. “I don’t know. It could be our best bet.”
“I’ve got a better idea.” The words were soft, but firm, coming from behind us.
We turned to look at Mandy. She looked a little green around the gills. “Why don’t we just run? If, and I’m not saying I believe you here, but if Fae really is that crazy and dangerous, shouldn’t we just not be here if she comes looking for us?”
“You believe us,” I said with a shrug. “If you didn’t believe us, you wouldn’t still be hanging around.”
She desperately wanted to be gone from here. It was written all over her face—it might as wel
l have been in neon. She wanted to be gone, wanted to run hard and fast and never look back.
But she couldn’t, and even if she didn’t admit it, I knew why.
“I don’t believe you.” She glared at me. “You don’t know Fae—you don’t know she’s the same woman Mr. Rip Van Winkle is looking for or not.”
“I do know.” Rip stared at Mandy, his eyes intense.
Mandy edged out of the door. Keeping close to the wall, she made a circuit around the room until she stood in the doorway to the small kitchen. “This is insane. You two want me to believe that I’m talking to Gretel from Hansel and Gretel, and Rip Van Winkle—who didn’t go to sleep for twenty years, he was just being controlled by some guardian angel gone bad.”
“She hadn’t gone bad at the time,” I pointed out.
Her purple eyes flashed. “This is insane. How can you expect me to believe this?”
“I don’t.” I shrugged. I hadn’t believed Mary right away either, and I’d known her for a lot longer than Mandy had known me. I’d trusted her. Mandy didn’t know me, and she certainly didn’t trust me. “I don’t expect you to believe—me—yet. But if you want to live, you’re going to listen to what I say.”
“How can I trust that?” she whispered, shaking her head. Tears blurred her eyes. “How can I?”
“Listen to your gut.” She had the healing gift, so chances are she had some sort of empathic gift. Feeling the pain of others, being drawn to it, so she could heal. Healing and empathy went hand and hand. “What does your gut tell you? Does it say trust me?”
“She’s here.”
Rip could feel her.
Part of him, even after all these years, even after he knew what she’d become, part of him wanted to reach out and hold her. He reached inside his coat and drew his staff, palming it so the length of it was hidden by his arm.
They would have to take her out physically first.
Before she could use her gift.
Something thudded against the door. Hard. Mandy yelped. Then it was silent.
“What was that?” Mandy asked, her voice a soft, faint whisper.
Neither Rip or Greta answered. Greta was tucked in the corner, almost hidden from sight. She had to stay out of sight, because if he couldn’t incapacitate Fae before she caught him, then Greta was the next option.
His ace in the hole.
There was another thud against the door. It rattled and the wood whined. The poor door had been all but decimated last night. He had done a quick-fix job on it, but the patch job wouldn’t hold.
At the next thud, it gave way, half-ripped away from the wall. Rip found himself eye to eye with a vankyr. Another demon that took over human bodies, possessed them. It wasn’t one that was in for the long haul, though. Not like the orin. It wanted as much blood and chaos as possible and during the fray, it would try to find another host.
It didn’t feed on souls.
The soul ended up trapped inside, going along for the ride, an unwilling audience for whatever nasty trouble his demon stirred up.
Rip waited as it lumbered towards him.
Just before it would have reached him, he whipped up his staff and twisted it. Twin blades emerged. Metal whispered through the air as he struck. The body hit the floor and the head rolled away. Behind him, he heard Mandy scream.
“Get to the basement,” he ordered. “Now.”
He heard her feet moving, but he didn’t dare turn his head to see if she was obeying him. He couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t worry about her.
A winsome, willowy blonde stood in the door, her arms folded across her breasts. From the corner of his eye, he could see the smile on her mouth, see her lips part as she murmured, “Hello, Rip.”
“It’s over, Fae.”
She laughed. She had always had a beautiful laugh. One of those laughs that sounded like gently chiming bells. It made people want to look at her, to laugh with her and share her amusement. Rip focused on the busted door instead, keeping her in his peripheral vision.
“Over?” She clucked her tongue. “Now, you sound so certain. Arrogance has always been your downfall, precious. You know that, right?”
Shifting his body, he flicked a wrist. One of his custom throwing knifes dropped from a sheath into his hand. One shot.
He’d have one shot.
“Nothing else to say?” Fae asked softly. “No requests for explanations? No impassioned pleas?”
“They wouldn’t work.” He chanced one look at her. Threw the knife.
But she’d been ready.
She wasn’t there when the knife hit and instead of burying itself between her breasts, it was buried into wood.
With the speed and silence of their kind, she came around to stand just beside him. Her hand, cool and icy, touched his. “Let’s not get so rough, Rip. You know I don’t share your fascination for sharp objects. Look at me, precious. Let me see your eyes.”
He jerked away. But she followed him.
A smile curled her lips—a devious, satisfied smirk. She wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at Greta. She’d seen Greta.
“Well, well, well. They sent more than one after me? I’m impressed. I hadn’t realized I was such a danger already.”
Rip brought his staff up. Damn hard to fight when he could look everywhere but directly at his target. She was skilled at catching a person’s gaze. He had to keep that from happening. Had to keep her from using it on Greta.
He struck and Fae moved—towards him, not away. Moving inside his strike and pressing against him.
Caught—
“Stop.”
It was Greta’s voice. Full of command. Heavy with it. Rip threw himself towards it mentally. Grabbing onto the sound of her voice, letting it jerk him away before Fae could command him.
“Close your eyes.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
They both froze when I spoke.
Mandy was down in the basement, safe away from this. Safe—so long as we didn’t fail.
“Close your eyes,” I ordered them. Rip had warned me. I don’t know how her gift differed from mine. I had to actively work to keep people under my control, and I couldn’t do it for long before the pain became too severe.
It worked best for short-term options.
Somehow, I suspect hers is more long-term. After all, she kept Rip under her control for five months.
Bad gift to put into the hands of somebody who no longer fought on the side of the angels.
Both of them stood there, still frozen, locked in mid-step. Rip’s blade still hanging in mid-air. Fae stood pressed against him, one hand reaching up to touch his cheek.
“Let me go,” Fae demanded.
“Be silent, Fae.” I looked at Rip—saw the muscles contorting in his face, a muscle jerking in his jaw. Fighting me even as he needed me. “Rip, open your eyes and move away.”
He did and the minute my attention was focused solely on Fae, I realized how fucking strong she was. I could feel her struggling against my mental control, could feel her heart racing, her muscles tensing as she fought to take control of her body. And she was winning.
Bit by bit, she was forcing her body to turn so she could face me. We can’t have that, now can we?
“Fae, get on your knees. Keep your eyes closed.” She resisted. I pushed harder and pain sliced through my head. “Now.”
I felt something hot and liquid trickle from my nose. Nosebleed—absolutely perfect. I usually didn’t hit this level quite so fast.
“You’ve lost your wings, Fae. Give them up. Now.”
“Never.” She snarled, breaking free of my hold enough to answer me.
She was trying to turn her head. Trying to look at me.
“Keep your damned eyes closed and do not look at me,” I bellowed, putting every bit of power I had into the words. I didn’t dare look away from her. The pain in my head built and built. We needed to end this now, because I couldn’t fight her.
“Rip. Just do it. Now.”
> Fae screeched and jerked against my hold as Rip circled around me and came at her from behind. “You’d stab me in the back?”
“No.” He didn’t stab her in the back.
He took her head in one swift strike.
And just as quickly as that, it was over. Metal clinked on the ground as I staggered back against the wall and fought to remain conscious. Something metallic glinted up at me. Tarnished silver.
Fae’s wings.
It wasn’t her power, but it was a symbol of what she’d been…once.
I wavered in and out of conscious, only vaguely aware of Mandy as she crept through the door to stare at Fae’s body. She gave me a horrified look and then went back to staring at the corpse.
“You were right,” she whispered, her voice thick.
Darkness swam in. I forced it back and listened as Rip spoke. Bit by bit, the pain receded. If I could just stay conscious, for a few more minutes…get this done. Then I’d collapse.
“I’m sorry, Mandy. Neither of us had much choice.”
“I know. I…I can see it.” She shot the dead bodies by the door a look. “I can feel it. Even dead, she feels…tainted. Just like they do. But she never felt like this before. Why didn’t I see it?”
I had to make myself look at the girl. “You feel a taint?”
She nodded and swallowed. “It’s evil. I can feel evil—the same way I can feel pain. But I can’t fix evil. I can’t fight it—it makes me helpless and I just have to deal with it.
“That’s why I accepted the book.” Tears filled her eyes and she looked at me. “She said it was a way to learn how to control my gift. It would teach me how to block out the things I didn’t want to feel. That’s why I took it. And when I looked at her, she never felt so…so dirty. Why didn’t I feel it before?”
“Because she wouldn’t let you.” Rip used one of the blankets that covered the bodies to clean his blade. “I already told you that she can hypnotize with just a look. She looked at you and without saying a word, she told you what you would see when you looked at her.”
Candy Houses Page 12
