by Jaye Wells
I looked away. The words were nice and I believed him, but I still felt like crap.
He pulled me down to sit next to him. “Listen, why don’t you just let me handle this situation? I’ll help Brooks and you don’t even need to be around Cadence if we find her.”
I shook my head immediately. “Absolutely not. I’m not a wimp.”
“I know that more than anyone else on this planet.” He smiled ruefully, no doubt recalling all of our adventures and battles. “So what’s the problem?”
I fought saying the truth because I knew it made me sound like an idiot. But he knew me too well to get away with a white lie. Time to come clean. “What if you see her and suddenly all those feelings come back?”
“Ah,” he said.
“Ah what?”
He turned toward me. It was kind of hard to focus on his face with that gorgeous display of masculinity so close I could touch it and taste it. “You know what we have isn’t normal, right?”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I know you never had a long-term relationship before you met me, so maybe you think this thing between us—this intensity—is normal. That all people in love feel it.”
I nodded. “Don’t they?”
He laughed. “Some people who love each other can’t even stand to be in the same room for too long, much less sit within two feet of each other without wishing they could rip each other’s clothes off.”
My brows rose, realizing the need I felt was also shining in his eyes. “So you didn’t feel that way with Cadence?”
He shook his head. “I loved her, but it was different. I didn’t realize at the time that it wasn’t an all-consuming love. More of a tenderness.”
The idea of Adam being tender with anyone but me made me want to put my fist through a wall—or my fangs through a jugular.
He held up his hands. “I can’t believe you’re acting so jealous. After all we’ve been through?” His fingers found the ring on the middle finger of my right hand. The one he’d given me the night he’d asked me to be his soul mate. Not a proposal in the traditional sense, but a vow to spend our lives together nonetheless. My shoulders softened as I remembered that night in Tuscany when we’d whispered promises to each other, neither sure we’d survive the next day, much less the rest of eternity, together.
Who was I kidding? What Adam and I had was real. Real real. I may not have loved a lot of people in my life, but I knew us. Nothing under heaven or earth would rip me away from this man, not even death—I’d for damned sure find a way to haunt him. And I had every reason to believe he felt the same for me. “I’m sorry,” I said finally.
He frowned. “For what?”
“Not giving you enough credit. It’s just the thought of you with someone else makes me feel a little insane.”
His hands cupped my cheeks. “Trust me—I know exactly how that feels.” I cringed a little, remembering him having to deal with this—and worse—when the Slade issue had come up.
“All right,” I said, “so we’re both fools where the other is concerned.”
“Exactly.” That crooked smile that always drove me crazy appeared on his full lips. “Now where were we?”
I stepped between his legs and placed my hands on his shoulders. “Somewhere around here.”
He leaned forward and kissed my stomach. His hands came up to circle my wrists with a firm grip. He whispered against my skin, “Lose the pants.”
And for the next several hours I complied to that and many other requests with relish.
* * *
OCTOBER 28
The next evening I stumbled downstairs to grab some coffee before setting out on the Cadence hunt. But when I got to the kitchen, I walked through the door and almost turned to walk right back out.
“Sabina!” Valva called from the massive table on the far side of the room. It wasn’t the demon’s presence that made me yearn for retreat, but the demon children surrounding her. Dinnertime for the five demonlings was a horror I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemies. “Giguhl said you were back. Come tell me about your trip.”
I sighed and continued into the room. Valva was…persistent. Better to get this over with now than face a tantrum. Vanity demons could be pretty touchy. “It was okay.”
Because of the disturbing sounds coming from the table, I opted to busy myself with making a pot of coffee instead of joining them. Even though Giguhl had yet to wean the little bastards, they still required a steady diet of raw meat. Demon babies are born with predator’s teeth, so chewing wasn’t a problem. A side of beef was lying on the table while the kids dug in like a pride of lions going after a gazelle. Only less civilized.
“Aynis, stop biting your sister,” Valva chided. Then she turned back toward me with the forced smile of a tired mom. Although, unlike most moms, she had golden skin and a peacock tail that twitched whenever one of her kids shrieked over a bit of gristle. “So what’s your deal, anyway?”
I blinked and looked up from filling the coffee carafe with water. “What do you mean?”
“Giguhl said you wouldn’t help find Brooks’s friend because you got your panties in a twist on account of the girl being Adam’s old flame,” she said with her trademark tact.
“Did he now?” I counted each scoop of chicory coffee slowly, hoping it would help keep my temper in check.
“I don’t blame you.”
I frowned and looked up. “Really?”
She shrugged. “If I found out Giguhl had hidden some whore from his past, I would grill his ’nads over a pit of hot coals.” Her golden lips split into a wide smile. “While they were still attached.”
“Whore!” The smallest demon, a blue-skinned imp named Gooch, mimicked over a mouthful of bloody meat.
Despite the overly graphic description and the kid’s interjection, I maintained a straight face. “In this case, I knew about the girl. I just had a little trouble with the shock of finding out she was in town.”
She continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “Who knows why men do what they do? They’re all savages, really.” She reached over and picked up a juicy rib from the pile and began delicately gnawing at it. “Still,” she hedged, “I hope you’ll change your mind and help my sweet Sticky Buns. He’s missed you.”
My conscience pinged. “I’ve missed him, too.”
She set down the bone and licked her golden fingers clean. “Just don’t get him in any trouble.” She looked up slowly. “Or you’ll answer to me.”
Suddenly I wasn’t hungry anymore. Valva was the daughter of Asmodeus and Lilith, the King and Queen of Irkalla, so she had some serious muscle behind her threat. But I wasn’t worried about retribution from those deities as much as I was concerned about her just making life at home a nightmare. Or maybe it wasn’t the threat ruining my appetite, but the effects of watching the demon babies tear into the carcass. Either way, it was time to get out of that kitchen.
Just then, one of the demonlings toddled away from the table. She was covered in golden scales and bright green fur sprouted between the two black horns on her head. “Auntie Sabina,” she cried. Her claws were covered in cow goo, but I didn’t complain as she threw herself at my legs.
I patted her little head. “Hi, Lulu,” I said, calling her by her nickname. I refused to call her the name her parents had given her.
“Now, now, Auntie Sabina has very important matters to attend to, like ignoring her friends and punishing her lover.”
I glared at the Vanity demon. A sharp pain bloomed in my right calf. “Ouch!”
Lulu pulled back with a bloody smile.
“Labya!” Valva cried, rushing forward to grab the kid by her arm. “No bite!”
The child giggled and licked her black lips. “Aunty Sabina tastes like candy!”
Thoroughly creeped out, I all but ran out of the room to go find Adam and Giguhl so we could get this damned wild-goose chase over with.
* * *
In the library, I found Adam on the p
hone and Giguhl typing away on the computer. The look Adam shot me when I walked in was a visceral reminder of the fun we’d had after our heart-to-heart the night before. I shot him a saucy smile in response and went to join Giguhl at the computer.
“What’s shakin’, G?”
He used his claws to type something into the computer. “I’m chatting with Brooks. He wants us to come meet him at Zen’s shop. He says he’s got something to show us.”
I sighed. The last thing I wanted was to wade into the sea of humanity clogging Bourbon Street to get to Zen’s shop. With the Halloween crowds already taking over the city, the place was going to be a madhouse. “Can’t he just tell us what it is over the computer?”
Giguhl shook his head. “Nope. The roommate found Candy’s diary. He thought it might help.”
Before I could respond, Adam hung up the phone. “That was Rhea,” he said. “She’s been in touch with Cadence’s family, but none of them have heard from her since she left New York.” His shoulders dropped. Seeing the defeat in his expression made me feel like an ass. Here I was feeling selfish when he was the one grappling with guilt over leaving the girl. “Rhea did say the last time they knew of Cadence’s whereabouts she was in Los Angeles, so chances are good Brooks’s waitress really is her.”
I went to him and put my arms around him and squeezed. “It’s not your fault.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, it kind of is. We had problems long before I met you, but I could have broken it off better.”
I sighed. “Well, you can apologize to her once we find her.”
Both males paused. “Does that mean you’re in?” Giguhl asked.
“I’m not totally heartless,” I said, filling my tone with plenty of martyrdom. “I’m capable of putting my personal discomfort aside to help Adam’s old…friend.”
Adam shot me a smile that made me feel like I’d gotten a gold star at life. “Let’s head out, then.”
* * *
Madame Zenobia’s Voodoo Apothecary was housed in a two-story building in the middle of Bourbon Street. While many of the shops in that area were tourist holes, Zen’s place was an actual working voodoo emporium run by a bona fide voodoo priestess. Sure, the store got its share of foot traffic from the curious looking to buy a voodoo doll to take home as a souvenir, but the store was the real deal.
Since Halloween was just a couple of nights away, the population of the French Quarter was higher than usual. Instead of flashing to the store and risk being seen materializing out of thin air, we drove. We had to park several blocks away and then walk through the Quarter, weaving our way through the sea of inebriated humanity. When I’d first come to New Orleans, this overwhelmingly vulnerable mass of humans was both a temptation and an annoyance. But now, being in the middle of all that energy put a little extra spring in my step. For a city so focused on the past and so intimate with death, New Orleans was very much alive.
Giguhl, on the other hand, wasn’t so enchanted. “This sucks balls,” he groused from my arms.
“Ixnay on the talking in publicay,” Adam said.
The demon cat hissed in response. You’d figure he’d eventually get used to the fact that he simply couldn’t be seen in public in his seven-foot-tall, green-scaled demon form. “Just think of it this way,” I said, keeping my eyes forward, “if you couldn’t change into the cat body, you’d never be able to leave the house.”
“Humph.” The pissy feline flexed his claws against the sensitive skin of my inner arm.
“Ass cat.”
“Trampire.”
“All right, you two,” Adam sighed.
I pressed my lips together and sidestepped a drunk coed puking in the gutter outside of Larry Flynt’s Hustler Club. I soldiered ahead, determined not to let the demon’s bad mood or the specks of puke on my boots ruin my mood. I’d been traveling so much on council business that having a few days to hang out with the old gang in my new hometown felt a little bit like a vacation. Maybe it’s twisted and selfish to look at hunting down a drug-addicted mage who may or may not be in major trouble as a lark, but whatever. I never promised to be selfless. I’d only promised to help.
A few moments later, we arrived at Zen’s shop. The double doors out front were wide open and a warm glow from inside invited passersby to duck in and explore. And there was plenty to see. Every inch of wall space was filled with masks and shelves full of colorful bottles and gourd rattles and crosses and skulls. The air smelled of dust and dried herbs and something dark and spicy I couldn’t begin to identify. When we walked in, a little silver bell rang near the back of the store, where a curtain separated the selling floor from the offices in the back. To the right of that was a staircase that led to the sleeping quarters upstairs and Zen’s workshop.
Zen came out from behind the curtain. When she saw us standing there, she whispered something to the girl behind the counter and walked over to join us. Her braided black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She wore a long, loose gown covered in a batik print. On another woman the dress would have looked frumpy, but she managed to make it look both elegant and earthy. Her face was tense and she didn’t waste breath with pleasantries. “Brooks is upstairs.” Then she turned on her heel and made her way up the steps, expecting us to follow.
She led us to the second-floor workroom, where she made all of her tinctures, poultices, and gris-gris bags. Drying chicken feet hung alongside bundles of sage and other herbs dried from long lines attached to the ceiling. A long wooden table, glossy and dark with age, bisected the room. Brooks stood on the side opposite the door when we all filed in. In front of him was a thick, leather-bound book, which he closed when we entered. “Where y’at?” His tone lacked the jovial Southern charm it normally contained.
Giguhl leapt off my shoulder onto the table and went to his friend. “How you doing?” He plopped his furless butt right next to the diary. I noticed Zen’s eyebrows rise, but she didn’t protest the cat tainting her sacred workspace.
Brooks shrugged and pushed his thick black frames higher on his nose. “Worried.”
“Is that Cadence’s diary?” I asked, ready to get down to business.
“Yeah. I hate to invade her privacy, but it’s all we have to go on.”
“Did you find anything?” Giguhl prompted.
Brooks nodded. “She had several diaries in her apartment, going back years. This one covers the last four years.”
Adam tensed beside me. A quick look in his direction and I realized he was staring at the book in question as if it were a snake. That’s when it hit me that the same diary that could help us find her might also contain secrets about her and Adam that he might not want me to know.
Part of me, the side ruled by the demon of bad choices, wanted to grab it and flip back to the time when she and Adam were together. But my more practical angelic side reminded me that picking that particular scab would only lead to unnecessary pain. The old me would have told the angel to take a hike and tackle the Changeling for the diary, but the new me, the one who enjoyed happiness and peace in my life, grabbed her man’s hand and squeezed. This was awkward for me, but it had to be hellish for Adam.
He squeezed back and forced a smile before releasing my hand. “So what did you find out?”
Brooks didn’t quite meet Adam’s gaze. A sure sign he’d read the pages my bad-choices-side wanted to read so much. “For the last couple of weeks, her entries have mentioned the same name repeatedly.”
“Well?” Giguhl asked.
“Damascus White.”
Oh shit, I thought. “Damascus White, as in the leader of the New Orleans vampire coven?”
Brooks nodded and held up the book. “The weird thing is that even though she’s pretty detailed with her entries, whenever she mentions Damascus, she’s very sketchy.” He opened the diary and read from it. “This entry is dated a week ago. ‘Damascus called again. He won’t take no for an answer.’”
Adam and I exchanged a look. “Why would the leader of the vampire c
oven be asking out a mage?” I asked.
“You’re assuming a lot,” Zen said. “He could have been asking her anything.”
I nodded. “True. But still, with his resources, it seems odd he’d resort to asking a mage for help.”
“Have you met him?” Brooks asked.
I grimaced and shook my head. “Not formally.”
“Wait,” Giguhl said. “Does that have something to do with what you said last night about not being on good terms with NOLA’s vamps?”
I hesitated before nodding.
Several pairs of judgey glances shot my direction. “What did you do?” Giguhl asked on a sigh.
“It’s all because of that time we came here to look for Maisie.” My grandmother, Lavinia, had kidnapped my twin sister, Maisie, and brought her to New Orleans a couple of years earlier. Adam, Giguhl, and I had spent a few weeks in the Big Easy looking for Granny Dearest and ended up having a huge battle in a cemetery that ended in her demise. Good riddance. “I guess Damascus took over as the leader after a lot of New Orleans’s vampires got recruited by Lavinia and her goons. Apparently we killed several of his friends, though.”
Several groans filtered through the room.
“And then when we moved to town permanently, I was so busy trying to get the Dark Races Council up and running that I neglected to set up a meeting with White and he took it as a deliberate snub.”
Adam frowned at me. “How do you know all this if you’ve never met him?”
I shrugged. “Nyx told me. Apparently White went to her to lodge a complaint. She called to tell me about it, but I guess the harm had already been done because when I offered to meet with him, he refused.”
“Yep, that sounds like Damascus,” Zen said, nodding.
“Wait, you know him?” I asked.
“Of course. Not that it’s anything to brag about. He’s a real jackass.”
One of my favorite things about Zen was she didn’t mince words. Plus she was an excellent judge of character. I blew out a resigned breath. “Well, if we want to get to the bottom of this, we’re going to have to talk to him. Do you think you could arrange a meeting?” I asked her.
