The Redeeming

by Jennifer Ashley

  He’d cut his hair close, shaving off the hanks that had singed in the fire. Samantha had loved Tain’s longish, sleek red hair, but she had to admit he looked pretty good in a buzz. The cut emphasized the sharp lines of his face, high cheekbones, square jaw, and the pentacle tattoo black against Tain’s skin.

  Samantha wet her lips. “We don’t match. I would have worn black or something, if I’d known you’d wear that.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” he said absently.

  Of course it didn’t; it wasn’t as though they were going as a couple. “Never mind. My father is ready to go.”

  Samantha kissed her mother goodbye and climbed into Fulton’s SUV. Joanne wasn’t allowed to accompany them, being human. Fulton didn’t like leaving her behind, although it was clear he could do nothing about it.

  Samantha sat in the front seat of the SUV with Fulton, and Tain took the seat right behind Samantha. Fulton made for the freeway, giving them plenty of instructions as he drove.

  “When we get there, don’t talk to anyone, and don’t ask any questions. Don’t look around the house, and don’t let on that you’re curious about anything you do see. Don’t speak to the matriarch before she speaks to you, and then only if she asks you a direct question. If she decides, when we get there, that she doesn’t want to see us at all, we leave. No questions, no arguments.”

  Samantha listened with growing uneasiness. “I’m starting to think this is a bad idea.”

  Fulton scowled. “It is a bad idea.”

  “It’s her way of protecting herself,” Tain said from the backseat. “Matriarchs live in constant fear of being overthrown either by a rival clan or from within.”

  “I suppose that’s true,” Samantha conceded. “I’m surprised she agreed to see Tain at all.”

  “She knows who he is and what he did to the Old One last year,” Fulton said. “She admitted to being curious.”

  Fulton drove them to Beverly Hills, the SUV winding up manicured streets and past gated mansions. One particularly long, twisting road ended at a huge iron gate that looked delicate, but Samantha could see it was thick and strong.

  Fulton pulled to a stop in front of a gatehouse, where two guards—both demons—sauntered out to ask them their business and then to search the car. Tain had to relinquish his short swords and Samantha the gun in her purse, though Tain made sure the guards locked everything in a cabinet in their gatehouse instead of simply tossing the weapons onto their desk.

  After contacting the main house, the guards told Fulton to park in a designated lot halfway up the drive. Two more guards in an electric cart met them at the SUV and drove them the rest of the way to the house.

  Samantha realized the parking area was strategically located, so that if she and her father managed to smuggle in explosives in the SUV, the vehicle lay too far from both gate and house to do immediate damage to either one.

  “It’s easier to get onto a military base,” Samantha said as Tain helped her from the electric cart at the front door.

  “The matriarch can’t afford to take chances,” Fulton answered. He was nervous, which showed in his walk and clipped words.

  Tain kept his hand lightly on the small of Samantha’s back as they moved up the shallow steps. Tain’s warmth behind her contrasted to the death magic she felt blanketing the house, and she wondered how he could stand such a concentration of it.

  More demon guards met them inside the front door. Fulton had warned Samantha not to look around, but she couldn’t help tilting her head back as they entered the lofty main hall.

  The mansion was as opulent as any movie mogul’s, with glittering, empty reception rooms on either side of the hall. A wrought iron staircase wound up through the middle of the house, but it, like the rooms and the hall, was empty. The setting sun slanted through western windows, and trees outside cast thick shadows, rendering the hall dim, despite the electric chandelier turned on full, high above them.

  The guards led them to the very back of the house to a small elevator and ushered them inside.

  The elevator went down, not up. Off balance, Samantha reached for the nearest thing to steady herself, which happened to be Tain. Her hand locked on his wrist, and when she would have pulled away, he put his hand on hers, keeping her there.

  The elevator door slid open to reveal an underground floor as opulent as upstairs. The rooms that opened off the square hall were lit with warm artificial light instead of sunlight, but they were just as empty.

  The guard tapped on a closed double door at the end of the hallway. He stepped back deferentially as the door was pulled open, and a tall, thin woman with a short haircut and business suit stared out at them.

  She was a demon but reminded Samantha of a severe maître d’ she’d seen once in a posh restaurant that catered to CEOs and movie execs. The woman regarded the three of them with cold dark eyes, told them she was the matriarch’s majordomo, and announced that the matriarch would see them now.

  “Samantha, what will you drink?” came a voice from across the room. A second woman, equally as tall and thin, turned from a gilded, wheeled drink cart that was clustered with crystal glasses, decanters, and bottles. She lifted an ice cube from a bucket with silver tongs and regarded Samantha quizzically.

  The matriarch was as severe as her majordomo, her salt-and-pepper hair cut short in a close, businesslike style. Her gray silk suit expressed expense as did her stately high-heeled shoes. Gold rings with small precious stones clasped every finger, and equally opulent but tasteful earrings hung from her small earlobes.

  Her look said powerful businesswoman, one who’d been around long enough to become a force to be reckoned with. Demons could make themselves look any human age they wished, and the matriarch’s deliberate choice of late fifties had been designed to command respect.

  The matriarch’s ice tongs hovered, waiting. Fulton sent Samantha a glance that said she’d better hurry up and choose what to drink. Samantha said quickly, “Whatever you’d like to fix is fine with me.”

  The matriarch gave her a look of disappointment. “Scotch and soda, then.”

  “All right.”

  The matriarch mixed the drink herself and pointedly did not offer anything to Tain or Fulton. “I heard what you did last year against Kehksut,” she said conversationally to Tain as she stirred Samantha’s drink with a long silver stick. “I was pleased at the Old One’s death. He disrupted the balance of power among demonkind, especially here in Los Angeles.”

  “I was pleased at his death too,” Tain said, his blue eyes quiet.

  “You would be,” the matriarch said. She moved her dark gaze to Samantha as she handed Samantha’s drink to the silent majordomo. “You, Samantha, work to protect humans against your own kind.”

  “Not only humans,” Samantha said quickly, taking the heavy crystal glass the majordomo brought to her. “I protect against any paranormal criminal—demon, vampire, werewolf, or otherwise. I also protect our kind against humans or other paranormals who would harm them.”

  “So many species, living together in our vast city,” the matriarch said, her tone acid. “Celebrating diversity.”

  “It’s the only way to survive in Los Angeles.”

  “Your human blood taints your perspective. Demons don’t want to live with other races. We are for ourselves. The vampires can’t come out into the sunlight, which gives us great advantage. The humans fear the night, which gives us another great advantage. When the lesser races kill each other off, the demons will be left standing.” The matriarch gave Samantha a pointed look. “Where will you be?”

  Chapter Ten

  Samantha felt Tain at her back, though she’d not seen him move across the room to her. He said nothing, but his warmth behind her gave her strength.

  Samantha had met demons like the matriarch before—a demon for demons. The matriarch might seduce humans and imbibe their life essences, but she would always regard them as a lesser species, made to be victims. She’d give humans as much r
espect as a human might give the slice of chicken on his plate. A demon with human blood likely got even less respect.

  “I asked my father to bring me here to tell you about demons who are being targeted in the city,” Samantha said, deciding to get down to business. “Merrick, a Lamiah demon who owns a club in Venice, received threats, and then his club was burned down. A club owner of the Djowlan clan has also received threats. And two young women from the Lamiah clan were kidnapped and tortured, one of them killed.”

  “I heard about the one called Nadia and her sister,” the matriarch said, her voice frosty. “No vengeance will be taken. They are no longer clan Lamiah. They weren’t even before the incident.”

  Samantha blinked. “They weren’t? Nadia said she was Lamiah.”

  Both matriarch and majordomo looked displeased. “Their family shunned them,” the matriarch said. “As should be. A demon woman who walks the streets drinking life essence for pay is a disgusting creature. Working in clubs is barely acceptable, but when the woman becomes nothing more than a prostitute, she shames her family and their clan. Nadia’s parents were told to disown their daughters, which they did.”

  “Oh.” Nadia’s file had said her parents were dead, and Nadia hadn’t contradicted the fact. Samantha had thought that what demons did in clubs and on the streets was perfectly acceptable to other demons. She’d had no idea some demons would view it with distaste, just as humans viewed women and men who sold their bodies with similar distaste.

  “You think me harsh?” the matriarch asked her.

  Samantha felt her father’s warning look, but she ignored it. “I do.”

  “It is necessary. Women rule the clans for good reason. If males were allowed to rule, there would be chaos and destruction, and we’d have died out long ago. For women to let themselves be slaves to men is an abomination. Those who don’t obey the rules shall be clanless.”

  Samantha wondered whether the matriarch directed the last words as a warning at her and Fulton. “Still, someone is targeting demon clubs and the people associated with them,” Samantha said. “The fact that members of two different clans have received similar threatening letters worries me.”

  “Vampires,” the matriarch said dismissively.

  “Not vampires,” Samantha said. “When vamps want to kill demons, they kill them. No threats, no abductions, no setting fires to clubs.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “I came to ask if you’ve heard anything that might help me. Have you received threatening letters yourself?”

  The matriarch snorted. “Of course I have. I receive threatening letters every day of my life. I am the matriarch, and there are always those in the clan who want more power than they should.”

  “I think this is more than clan politics. It started with the clubs, but the troubles might spread to include all demons.”

  The matriarch gave Samantha a cold look. “No being can topple the most powerful clan of demons on earth. Except perhaps him.” She gave Tain a sweeping glance. “You overestimate the danger, girl.”

  “Merrick’s club burned to the ground, and he nearly died,” Samantha said, her voice hard. “Nadia’s sister did die, in a most brutal way. Are you saying all this has nothing to do with you?”

  “I am. And if you were true demon, you’d understand that.” The matriarch’s already cool gaze turned frigid. “What is it you really want, Samantha? You are a half demon, half human, neither one thing or the other. Is it power you wish? Over demons? Is that why you work for the human-controlled police department?”

  “I told you, I try to help people—both human and non-human.”

  “It eats at you, doesn’t it? Being split down the middle? Your demon instincts tell you to do one thing; your human instincts, something else.”

  Fulton moved closer to Samantha, and Tain remained solidly at her back.

  “I’m used to it,” Samantha said, maintaining her professional tone. “I’ve learned to put aside my personal feelings to do my job.”

  “Detective.” The matriarch smiled. “Would you arrest me?”

  Samantha gave her a stiff nod. “If you were committing a crime, yes.”

  “You sound so certain of yourself.” The matriarch’s aura began to darken, her death magic rising. “How would you arrest me if I didn’t permit it?”

  “I usually work with a partner.” Samantha kept her voice steady, determined not to let the woman intimidate her—or at least not to show that she did. “For tough cases, the department has powerful witches or vampires, even demons, ready to assist.”

  “But if you came across me alone? Or if I tried to kill your father, right here and now, what would you do?”

  The field of death magic around the matriarch strengthened, and she raised her hand. Samantha stepped protectively in front of Fulton, painfully aware that her pistol was locked far away in the gatehouse. She had cuffs with her that contained a subduing magical field, but she’d have to get close to the matriarch to use them.

  “Show me,” the matriarch said. “Show me what you’d do if you had to arrest me right now.”

  Samantha sensed her father’s rising anger, and she touched his hand, signaling him to keep quiet. The majordomo watched the drama with cold, glittering eyes, a faint smile on her face.

  And Tain . . .

  Tain did nothing. He remained near Samantha, looking utterly devastating in his kilt, his legs braced apart, his arms folded across his chest.

  “I’d call for backup,” Samantha said, opening her purse. “Then I’d try to subdue you.”

  “How?” The matriarch watched her with almost fanatic intensity. “I want to see.”

  Samantha drew a breath, and then let her anger take over. Fine—if the matriarch wanted to know what would really happen, Samantha was happy to give her a demonstration.

  Samantha handed the majordomo her untouched drink and yanked the cuffs from her purse. “I’d call for backup,” she repeated, tossing aside her purse and advancing with a swift stride. “And then I’d get you cuffed and read you your rights.”

  Samantha knew that, physically, she could spin the slender woman around, pin her to a wall, and cuff her quickly and efficiently. She’d done it to vampires twice her own size—they were shackled and subdued before they knew what hit them.

  However, she knew she couldn’t best the woman magically, and she suspected that magic was what this was all about. The matriarch was testing her resolve.

  The matriarch allowed Samantha to get within three feet of her. Then she let fly her death magic, both at Samantha and Fulton. It was nasty magic, designed to kill. Samantha felt its suffocating finality, and knew the breath would go out of her as soon as the magic touched her.

  She dove hastily aside, but the dark spell sought her, twisting around her like a net. Samantha brought up her hands, hoping the negation spell on the handcuffs might help a little, but the matriarch was one of the most powerful demons in Los Angeles.

  Light suddenly exploded through the room as a blast of white-hot life magic burst around Samantha and the net of darkness, lifting Samantha a few inches off her feet. She landed again, hard, on her one-inch heels, her heart pounding.

  The pulse of life magic tangled around the death magic and crushed it to nothing. A smell of sulfur mixed with the acrid scent of burned wire trickled through the room a silent moment, then dispersed.

  Tain hadn’t moved. His blue gaze met Samantha’s as she turned to him, the power in his eyes making her flinch. He crackled with magic, white fire glowing around him and dimming the rest of the room.

  The death magic of the place wasn’t hurting him at all; the matriarch nothing to an Immortal demigod who’d destroyed the most powerful demon in existence. Tain could kill every demon in this house right now, without thought, without even breathing hard.

  Samantha remembered how gentle he’d been when he kissed her in her apartment, and again when he’d touched her face at the fire, after he’d leapt fifty feet down a burning bu
ilding to save a demon butthole like Merrick.

  The compassion Samantha had briefly glimpsed in him had vanished. The Tain who stood here was the hardened warrior who’d lived for centuries—merciless, dangerous, and brutal.

  He really could wipe out a room by twitching his pinky.

  The matriarch was shaken, but she strove to hide it behind another frosty smile. “I wondered what you’d do if I threatened her,” she said to Tain. “What is Samantha Taylor to you?”

  “She saved my life,” Tain said, giving the matriarch the full force of his white-blue gaze. “I owe her my protection.”

  “But she’s demon,” the matriarch argued. “Didn’t a demon enslave and torture you for seven hundred years?”

  “Even so,” Tain said quietly.

  “That’s what I thought,” the matriarch said, sounding smug. “Thank you, Samantha, for a most enlightening display. I want you to leave now.”

  Samantha followed the guards out the front door of the matriarch’s house, her heart still beating swiftly. Tain strode behind her, his footfalls loud in the quiet.

  The matriarch had commanded Fulton to remain behind, and her father had obeyed. Samantha hadn’t wanted to leave him, but the matriarch had smiled and said she was finished with intimidation today and needed to speak to Fulton on clan business.

  Fulton had given Samantha a brief hug. “It’s all right, Sam. I’ll be fine. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  The demon guards had met them outside the suite’s door, which the majordomo, who’d remained silent the entire time, opened for them. The guards, still in human form but nervous now, led Tain and Samantha back to the elevator, up through the house, and outside.

  Night had fallen while they’d been underground, and Samantha and Tain emerged to floodlights which lit the mansion and manicured gardens around it. A guard drove them in the electric cart past Fulton’s SUV and all the way to the gate. One of the gate guards called for a taxi and told Samantha they’d have to wait for it outside the gate. None of them spoke to Tain at all.