Sealed in Sin

by Juliette Cross

  “You will, Dommiel. Because the war is coming. You know as well as we do that allegiances are switching, lower and high demons are on the move. You may not be viewed as valuable in the near future. Someone may want to oust you from your lair and put someone higher in your place.”

  It was a known fact that some of the demon princes still lived in the dark corners of hell and didn’t even claim a domain on earth. Like Damas, the one who’d once imprisoned Kat—something she still refused to speak of. But they may soon change their minds when the demonic and heavenly hosts moved for outright war.

  Dommiel’s nostrils flared and eyes narrowed. “Done.”

  Kat sat up, mumbling, “Well, that didn’t take much convincing.”

  I shushed her with a glance. “I need to know if Bamal was the one who broke into the Vatican to discover the prophecy.”

  “Before I answer,” he tilted forward, elbows on his knees, “understand that if Jude doesn’t hold up his end of the bargain, I’ll come looking for you.”

  Dommiel may not be the most evil demon I’d come up against, but the gleam in his eyes told me he would be a formidable and tenacious opponent if I crossed him.

  “Understood.” I offered my hand to shake on it.

  Kat slapped my hand away. “Don’t let him touch you! He could sift you out of here.”

  I kept my eyes steady on Dommiel, lifting my hand again. “He won’t. This is a genuine peace offering. If he breaks it, he knows Jude will come hunting him. And next time, he won’t just cut off his arm.”

  Hesitating at first with Kat hissing next to me like a, well a cat, Dommiel took my hand in a gentle grasp. I pumped my arm once and dropped his hand. He leaned back, grinning.

  “Bamal did not break into the Vatican.”

  Kat snorted. “Of course he didn’t. But did he hire or compel someone to break into the Vatican?”

  “Yes.”

  Sneaky bastard. Note to self, be specific if you want genuine answers from demons. If Bamal was the one behind the break-in, then he stole the prophecy about the same time he stopped sending men to kill me and started sending them to abduct me. He wanted me alive.

  Dommiel lifted one shoulder in an arrogant shrug. “You must ask the right questions, dear Vessel.”

  Kat intervened. “Does he have the other half of the prophecy, the part that’s been missing?”

  Dommiel’s expression sobered. “No. He does not.”

  I shifted in my seat. “Can you tell me anything about Bamal’s Vessel?”

  “Only that he prizes her dearly and keeps her close. Is that all? If so, I have work to do.”

  I mused a moment, tapping my index finger on my knee. Specific questions. “You said that Bamal doesn’t have the missing part of the prophecy. Do you?”

  Dommiel’s gaze hardened, his facial piercings stretching tight. “No,” he gritted out.

  I smiled. “But you know someone who might, don’t you.”

  He tilted his neck, cracking a joint. “Possibly.”

  “Ah-ha!” shouted Kat. “Can’t trust a damn demon. He knows where the freaking prophecy is!”

  “I said possibly.” Dommiel’s mood had plummeted the second I ventured down this line of questioning. I’d say more than possibly.

  “Who? What’s his name, and where can we find him?”

  Dommiel’s dark gaze bore into me, as if he debated whether to give me the information. Kat stood and reached for her dagger. I shot my arm out. “No. He’ll cooperate.”

  Another moment of thick silence, then he cleared his throat as if he merely needed a moment to collect his thoughts. He pulled out a silver pen and scrap of memo paper, quickly jotting down an address.

  “You’ll find him here tonight. This place doesn’t open till midnight. His band is playing.”

  He slid the paper across his desk. I glanced at the address. Surprisingly pretty penmanship.

  “Demon band, I presume.”

  “Yes.”

  “His name?” asked Kat.

  “Bleed.”

  I snorted. “Wait. What’s his name?”

  “Bleed.”

  “What is it with you demons? Why can’t you adopt a name like Steve or Joe or Bill.”

  He regarded me as if I were an odd insect with ten limbs.

  “Never mind.” I stood up. Kat was already standing. “We may have some more questions later, but this will do for now.”

  “How long must I be your double agent, dear Vessel?”

  “For as long as you’d like to reign in New Orleans, dear demon.”

  His smirk vanished. He stood and followed us to the door.

  “We’ll need to meet somewhere else in the future. I can’t have you wandering in with your demon hunter, having civil conversations and whatnot, without unwanted attention on my end.”

  “Right. So I’ll text you. What’s your phone number?”

  He sighed with a roll of his eyes. “Truly, you have a lot to learn. I can have no physical record of our contact. I certainly can’t have a traceable number in my phone leading directly to Jude Delacroix’s”—his eyes took a stroll down my body—“delectable Vessel.”

  I frowned. “I’m new at demon espionage, Dommiel. Tell me what you had in mind.”

  He pulled a heavy, leather-bound book off the back shelf. A copy of Danté’s Divine Comedy. Seriously? He pulled a black plume from one of the pages and handed it to me.

  “Take this. Keep it in a dry place where it won’t be tampered with. When you need me, hold it in your hand and blow the feather. And I’ll find you.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Let’s go.” Kat nudged me as I slipped the feather inside my leather jacket. “I know you’ll warn your buddy that we’re coming, but be sure he understands we’re coming to talk, not to fight.”

  “As you wish, Domina.”

  Apparently, Kat’s nickname was known in more places than New York.

  Before Dommiel opened the door for us, he gave me a quizzical look. “Why not just come in with swords and bravado and demand I answer your questions? That seems to be Jude’s usual mode of operation.”

  “Actually, he wanted to, but I convinced him otherwise.” I smiled. “My mother once told me you catch more flies with honey.”

  As I slipped out the open door, I heard his whispered words: “Indeed, you do.”

  Chapter Six

  “Nice place.”

  I stood next to Kat, hands on hips, staring at the dilapidated shack squatting on the edge of Bayou Sauvage. Just a hop, skip and a jump from the Quarter, this place might as well have been on another planet. Made of corrugated steel with a tin roof, the building stretched tall and long like a barn. Surrounded on all sides by cypress trees and murky swamp in the middle of nowhere, I could only think how appropriate for demons wanting a bit more privacy, wanting the eyes of the world turned away as they did as they pleased. At least Dommiel’s ghastly club was in the middle of the city where he could be watched, not hidden away in the backwoods on a bayou.

  Something splashed in the dark on the water’s edge. Could’ve been anything—fish, turtle, alligator…demon spawn. An aura of evil hung over this place. A shiver of dread crept up my spine—now a familiar sensation since I’d been mingling with demons so often.

  “Lovely ambience,” I said, tightening my ponytail. I’d donned my black-on-black garb to blend with the crowd as best I could.

  Kat tapped her fingers on the hilt of the long saber strapped to her hip. No cast of illusion. She wanted everyone to see who she truly was—a bad-ass hunter. “Sounds like Bleed’s groovy band is in full swing.”

  Sarcasm seemed to be the preferred weapon of the night for both of us.

  “It’s one thirty. They ought to be finished soon enough.”

  “Let’s go, then.” She gave me a bright smile. “Keep that VS tamped down, though.”

  With a nod, I called the words in my mind to cast illusion, feeling the moon-bright shimmer of my VS coating me in a sh
ell. While we finally convinced Jude to let us go alone, eventually conceding to all our bitching about his presence doing more harm than good, he insisted I keep my identity concealed. He had other plans for the night anyway, which didn’t include me. In truth, Jude didn’t seem half as concerned as I thought he’d be. My heart ached at how often we seemed to be spending time apart, but I didn’t want to whine like a naggy girlfriend. There were more important things to worry about. Perhaps Jude wasn’t so concerned about me coming to this heathen pit, because these demons were all under the rule of Dommiel. And Dommiel was ruled by Jude.

  The demons would assume I was another hunter since I’d gotten good enough at casting illusion to hide my Vessel beacon, as Jude liked to call it. I’d worn dark contacts to hide my crystal-blue eyes, needing to mimic the look of hunters whose eyes were stained with the residue of the demons they sent back to hell.

  We’d tried to time it where Gallow’s End, Bleed’s band, would be nearly finished with their set when we arrived.

  No bouncer at the door. No need, I suppose.

  Stepping inside, we merged with the crowd and were swallowed by the dark interior. The place was packed. I’d expected Gallow’s End to be one of those scream-o, screeching bands, but they sounded more like Volbeat—sensual with a hard edge. The gifts of the damned.

  I glanced toward the stage over the crowd on the far end. Bleed was gorgeous—in a dark and dangerous sort of way. Of course. Hair dyed midnight blue hung well past his shoulders. Wearing ripped jeans and no shirt, and singing like a god, he held the audience spellbound.

  Feeling Kat’s presence, demons turned and sneered, letting her pass without incident but watching her every move, glaring at me as I followed in her wake. We wove through the crowd and leaned against the wall, having a better view of the room.

  “There are humans here,” I whispered in Kat’s ear.

  To our left, a lower demon in black leather from head to foot had a human blonde against the wall. They were venturing past making out and well into feeling up. His hand slid up her skirt between her legs. Her lipstick-smeared mouth opened on a gasp.

  Kat leaned over to me. “There’s nothing illegal going on here. Humans are welcome. Especially a certain variety.”

  “The desperate variety,” I mumbled.

  Kat didn’t hear, gaze on the stage. We both watched, the crowd bobbing, swaying, grinding in unison. One thing I noticed about Bleed was the distinct flash of red eyes.

  “He’s a lower demon. I’d thought with the kind of information he possibly has, he’d be one of the big ones.”

  “He might be a lower demon, but I believe he’s quite old.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  The man at the center of our conversation gazed fixedly in our direction. With a wicked smile, he crooned low and deep, “When a flower blooms and falls, the petals taste so sweet…like a dagger through the heart, like sheathing in her heat…”

  I couldn’t help my eyes widening in shock. Bleed grinned, shifting his attention elsewhere, a groupie at the foot of the stage. Kat leaned close to me.

  “I just get that feeling.” She arched a brow. “He spotted us the second we walked in. A lower demon fused to a human host must be very old to have those kinds of senses. Don’t underestimate the lower demons, Gen.”

  “Not a chance,” I assured her. I remembered Fabio, the lower demon who’d been hunting me under Danté’s orders. He would’ve captured me if not for Jude. Though I’d come far in the weeks since then, I certainly wouldn’t be underestimating any creature of the damned. There was no telling who any of them worked for and whether their masters had bestowed extra gifts to make them more powerful.

  Kat scanned the room. No one took notice of us. “I’ll go backstage and watch so he doesn’t try to slip away. You watch the front. You’re safer in this spot. There’s not one high demon here.” Meaning, no one could sift me away. “Get your cell out.”

  I slid my phone out of my back pocket and opened my text app. I typed in SOS to Kat’s number.

  “Okay. Ready.” I held it at my side.

  “All right. If even one high demon enters this bar, text me.”

  “Got it, Kat. We’ve been over this.”

  With a stiff nod, she melded into the crowd toward the stage area, the dancing horde swelling toward the walls.

  I leaned against one of the floor-to-ceiling wooden beams next to a tall tabletop. Something hissed. I jumped back against the wall. A black cat with unnatural glowing eyes spat at me before scrambling up the beam into the rafters. Damn demons and their pets.

  The moans and grunts coming from the couple next to me made me scoot in the opposite direction.

  “Watch it.”

  A bald demon stared down, red eyes gleaming. Swirling tattoos covered his head, the most prominent being thick black ram’s horns curling from the cap to the base of his ears. He held up his mug of beer I’d just sloshed in my eagerness to get away from moaner and groaner.

  “Sorry.”

  “Not a problem, baby.”

  He leered with more interest than made me comfortable. I thought how easy it would be to zing him with my VS. That would wipe that stupid smirk off his face. Knowing the best option was to remain undercover, I broke eye contact and edged in the direction I’d come, bumping someone else.

  A strong hand wrapped around my arm. The cool scent of falling snow and mountain breeze trembled through my frame. I whipped my head around, looking over my left shoulder.

  “You.”

  His smile easily reached sea-green eyes.

  “Me.”

  His gaze swept my face in such a way, so full of emotion, I hitched in my breath. Speechless.

  “This is a dangerous place for you.”

  “No more dangerous than any other.”

  “Is that so?” He still held my arm. “I haven’t kept you safe all these years for you to waltz into demon haunts without protection, tossing your life around carelessly.”

  His expression remained clear and calm, but his voice dipped low, serious.

  “I’m not alone. Kat’s here.”

  Somehow, I figured he knew who she was. If he’d been watching me for as long as he said, then he certainly knew Kat had been training me. He nodded, scanning the area. I didn’t guess wrong.

  “But your hunter isn’t here.”

  He could only mean Jude.

  “No. He’s got something more important to do tonight.” Prophecy detective work.

  “More important than protecting you?”

  I flinched. He didn’t say it with venom, but the words still stung. I started to pull from his grip when the crowd surged in our direction. Bleed’s new song had them bouncing wildly, flailing limbs and punching fists in the air. My angel pulled me behind him against the wall. He pivoted body-to-body and bracketed his arms on either side of my head, allowing the throng to shove at his back. Someone fell into him, crushing his chest against mine. The tingle of downy snow sucked the breath out of me.

  Glass-green eyes held me captive. While demons danced and yelled the chorus of some horrid song by Gallow’s End, my guardian angel sheltered me in his embrace, keeping me in a small circle of cool tranquility.

  “Are you okay?” he finally asked as the song died. And it did indeed sound like someone was actually dying. I wasn’t so eager to meet this Bleed dude anymore. Especially now that I felt the calm presence of—

  “What’s your name?” I asked, more whisper than words. He read my lips or somehow heard me over the roaring cheers and whistles.

  “Thomas.”

  His eyes drifted past my lips to my neck. He lifted the moon-shaped opal hanging on a chain, his fingers brushing my collarbone.

  “This is beautiful,” he remarked, admiring it. “It suits you.”

  “It was a gift,” was all I could manage.

  “It matches your aura.” His eyes shifted to mine, though he still held the opal in his fingers, the back of his hand resting against
the hollow of my neck.

  “You can sense my signature?”

  “Of course. It is all stars and moon radiance. Your cast of illusion may fool these lower demons, but I always see who you are.”

  “And who am I?”

  He placed the opal against my skin, a cool caress. Lifting his hand, he brushed his thumb along my jaw, a fleeting touch before pulling away. “You are the brightest star of them all.”

  My blood raced, heart hammering. Realizing I had one hand on his broad shoulder, holding him close, and having no recollection of even touching him, I yanked my hand away. He seemed not to notice my discomfort, expression still serene but serious.

  The couple on the wall had moved well beyond the feeling-up stage. Her legs wrapped his waist. Heavy grunts grew louder as he pumped into her against the wall. I felt nauseated, wanting to disappear. No matter how hard I tried to pretend it didn’t bother me, the coarse behavior of demons made me sick. I tried to coat myself in a shell of I-don’t-care like I cast illusion, but the truth was these creatures sickened me. The foul ways they dragged humanity into their dark pit of sin…

  The blonde moaned louder. I turned my head away.

  “Genevieve.” Cool hands cupped my face. I looked up at Thomas. He didn’t say a word. He sifted me to the opposite side of the club where no one was getting hammered against a wall. “Better?” His voice whispered over me along with a crisp drift of winter wind. In an instant, he’d pulled me from a dark place.

  He dropped his hands but kept me in the shelter of his shadow. Shielding me.

  “Yes.” I licked my lips, not realizing how nervous I’d been, witnessing that disgraceful scene. I suppose the woman was enjoying it, but it still disgusted me, knowing the demon preyed on human frailty. “Thank you. For that. For being here.”

  “Always. If you need me, just whisper my name. I will hear you, wherever you are. I will always come for you.”

  With a small smile, he sifted away. I felt the distinct loss of his calm presence amid this maddening chaos. Audience whistles died when a skanky chick stepped up to the mic. She had purple spiky hair and wore something that might be called a dress in some circles, but I’d call a napkin. My phone vibrated in my hand.