I forced myself not to touch him, though I desperately wanted to. “Turn it off,” I demanded, even though I knew that part of it now came from me. Our two natures—hot and quick and designed for pleasure—seeking each other out. Craving release.
I swallowed, my mouth gone suddenly dry. “Turn it off now.”
He ignored me, coming closer still. “So quick to condemn what you do not even understand. Tell me, Lily, what is it you think an incubus is?”
“I already told you,” I said. “A demon. One who draws strength and power through sex and drains the victim in the process.” I glanced across the room to the cabinet that held the books I studied during breaks in physical training. “I’ve been doing my reading, remember?”
“You forgot the best part,” he stated calmly, circling me as he spoke, his body mere inches from mine, his proximity working like static electricity and making my skin tingle. “An incubus makes love like no other. The pleasure he brings his partner is unrivaled, and his skills as a lover are unmatched.”
“Back off,” I demanded, my skin heating and my senses tingling.
“Ah, chérie. Sexuality is not about being ungodly. It depends entirely on how it is used. Pleasure?” he asked, running his fingertip lightly from my chin down my neck, and then brushing over my breasts ever so lightly. To my abject horror, I felt my nipples tighten and knew without a doubt that my panties were wet.
“Or control,” he said, and before I could react, he’d cupped my ass and pulled me close, his rock-hard erection pressed against my Lycra-covered thigh. “There is a difference, no?” He released me and stepped back. I stood there, gasping for breath, the heat of this man starting a fire inside me.
“Sit,” he said, nodding at the bed.
“I prefer to stand.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He moved and sat, and I had to wonder if I’d made a mistake. He was half naked and on a bed, and I was in a libidinal fog. Possibly not the best move on my part.
“You are right, of course. I am an incubus—or what human culture would call an incubus. But that does not make me evil, Lily. It does not make me a traitor. And it certainly does not mean that I am a demon.”
“But I thought—”
“You thought that the bedtime stories were true. They are not.” He reached for me, and without thinking I moved to sit beside him. “There is nothing inherently bad about those of us with sensual allure. It is only those who would control—who would use that allure for power and persuasion—who kneel at the altar of evil.”
“And you?” I whispered.
His hand stroked my cheek. “Sexuality can also be a form of worship, ma chérie. The connection, both physical and spiritual.”
He sat back and drew in a deep breath. “Do not condemn me, Lily. I am not evil. Far from it. I am, in fact, much like you. Caught in the middle. We are alike, you and I, in more ways than the essence we share.”
I pressed my lips together, feeling lost and foolish. As if I didn’t know where good ended and evil began. Something that should be the simplest question in the world, and now it seemed unduly complicated.
“Poor Lily,” Zane said, looking at me with gentle eyes. “The world is not like the stories of your youth, n’est-ce pas?”
“No, it’s not.”
“At least for you, it is simple. You hunt demons. Do not make it more complicated than it must be.”
“But I’d always thought that an incubus was a demon—”
“Forget what you know,” he said sharply. “You must let go of the old ways of thinking.”
“I know! I understand. But—” I cut myself off, trying to form the thought that filled my head, demanding and yet amorphous. “Can a demon be good? You say kill them all. But are they all evil?”
The amorphous cloud in my head took form, and I concentrated on the floor, afraid Zane would see the reflection of my thoughts on my face: Deacon.
“A most interesting question,” he said, his voice low and scholarly. If he had any clue as to the motivation behind my question, he kept it to himself. “Like all things, there is a hierarchy in the heavens, and the demons who thrived when the universe was a formless void drew back into the dark when God breathed light upon this world. The darkness shrank, shut out by the light. And the dark-dwellers—the demons—did not seek this new dimension. Not at first. Not until something new and wonderful appeared and walked there.”
“Humankind,” I said. “Evil came into the world along with humankind.”
“For whatever reason, humans are uniquely subject to the temptations of the dark, without in fact being dark by nature. And those that dwell in the dark are uniquely tempted by humanity. And so evil crossed over. The first evil. The serpent of mythology. And once the crossing was made, the path was forged.”
“Is this real or mythology?”
“If you are living it, it must be real.”
I couldn’t get my head around the idea of a cognizant darkness or a powerful snake that was the embodiment of evil, but I tried to go with it, because underneath the parable was the story of what I was righting. “Go on.”
“Once evil began to tempt humankind, it realized that evil could also exist within humans. Could merge. Could possess and influence. And with every human who took the dark inside, the dimension of evil grew larger.”
“As evil spreads in the world, hell expands.”
“Exactly.”
“So that Goth girl. The Tri-Jal. She really was human. Just a really, really, really dark human?”
He shook his head. “The flesh became so key to the dark-dwellers that some species of demon learned to create a shell. But it is only packaging used to cross to this dimension, because a demon’s true form does not blend in here, as you have seen.” I nodded, thinking of the Grykon. “Evil is best able to get a grip when it is subtle. When it looks and feels like that we know best.”
“So it looked like a girl, but there was no humanity inside. Not like that human who was possessed. There was still humanity in him. Just trapped inside with the demon.”
“Trapped,” Zane said, “and subjugated.”
I stood up and wandered over toward the cabinet with the books as I considered everything he’d said. “If humans can suck in the dark, can demons suck in the light?”
He smiled. “Ah, ma chérie, that is the question. If a single man can expand the dimensions of hell by aligning himself with evil, can God himself not be enriched by a child of the darkness turning to face the light?”
“Can he?”
“All in nature can be good. And all can be evil. Free will, chérie. But each of us, human and demon, has a true nature. And very few among us are brave enough to fight it.”
I took that as a qualified yes, then licked my lips, wondering what my nature was. Wondering more if it had changed when I became Alice, and if it was changing still as I absorbed the demons day after day.
“Do not question your nature, chérie,” he said kindly. “Your heart is good.”
“And you? What’s your nature?”
His smile was tight. “I fight on the side of righteousness. That much, I will swear to you. Though I do pay daily for my hubris.”
“Hubris?”
“In my youth, I wanted to live forever, a trait that is awarded only to the true angels and incorporeal demons. I acted rashly, trying to manifest a desire I did not truly understand and would not have wanted fulfilled had I considered the ramifications. I was punished for my foolishness.” He closed his eyes, sighed deeply. “And now you share my torment.”
“But that means you got what you wanted.” I said, my voice a whisper. “Immortality.”
“It would seem so,” he said. His smile when he looked up at me was wan. “There are times when I believe that hell is the place where all your dreams come true.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Do you know why I am down here, Lily? Down in this prison of concrete and metal?” he asked, and I realized that hi
s voice was no longer accented. “Do you have any idea how old I am? How many lives I’ve had? How many places I’ve lived, wives I’ve had, years I’ve seen pass by as minutes?”
“I don’t.”
A sad smile touched his lips. “Neither do I,” he said. “But it has been far too many.”
“Zane—”
He lifted a hand. “No. Hear me. I have lived thousands of lifetimes, Lily, and I am tired. So tired, and I crave death. I crave the end of this life and the beginning of a new, in whatever form it may come. And yet I cannot have that which I desire. I cannot, because of my own foolish ambition. And so I have trapped myself in a nightmare of my own making.”
“But what does that have to do with why you’re here in the basement?”
“I made a deal. Long ago, I made a deal to train warriors. And in exchange, when the time is right, I will be granted freedom. I will be granted death.” He met my eyes. “And all I have to do is stay and teach and train.”
“Stay?” I repeated. “You mean you can’t leave? You’re not allowed to go upstairs?”
“I can,” he said. “And if I do, the bargain is over.” He stood, waiting for me to say something, but I didn’t know what to say. “Do you know what the real hell of it is, Lily?”
I shook my head.
“I have, time and again, been tempted to ride that elevator to the street.”
“But then you’d break the bargain and you’d stay immortal.”
He exhaled loudly. “After so long, I fear death as much as I crave it. It is,” he said with a smile, “a hideous conundrum.”
I thought of him trapped down here in the basement, and realized that Zane was living my nightmare, albeit in a bigger box.
“How much longer do you have to train?”
“That depends on you, Lily. The fate of the world will be determined soon, and with it, my fate as well. The convergence,” he said, a hint of dread flashing in his eyes, “it comes closer every day whether we want it to or not.”
“Zane. I’m—”
“No. You of all people should not pity me. We are bound now, Lily. We share the same fate.”
I frowned, disturbed.
“But enough about theology and eternity. You came tonight because you feared I acted against you. But trust me, ma fleur, I wish you no harm.” His gaze grazed my face as I avoided looking into his eyes, afraid of what I might see there if I let Alice’s sight take over. Afraid also to let him know I had the sight at all. “No, chérie. I would never wish you harm.”
His lips closed roughly over mine, taking without asking and leaving me breathless and needy.
Needy, yes, but unwilling. Gently, I pushed him away, ignoring the desperate ache inside me begging to be sated. “No.”
His eyes examined me, and I looked away, afraid my will would fail. He’d turned me on, yes. He’d fired my senses.
But at the end of the day, there was another man who filled my thoughts. A dangerous man whom I wanted in my bed, despite my better judgment.
He stepped back, increasing the distance between us. “You break my heart, chérie.”
“Some other time, perhaps,” I said. “If things are different.”
“Is that a promise, chérie?”
I thought of the way I’d promised to always be there to protect Rose, and I had to shake my head. “I don’t do promises anymore,” I said, then turned away. Finally, it was time to go home.
Chapter Thirty-One
I wasn’t the least bit surprised to find Clarence sitting on his little stool outside my door when I arrived back a few minutes before one in the morning. What did surprise me was the present he shoved into my hand, a small box wrapped in purple paper. I took it, confused.
“Ain’t no big thing,” he said.
I frowned, but peeled the paper off, then tugged the lid off the box. A cell phone was inside, nestled in crumpled-up tissue paper. The phone itself was pink. With sparkles. I looked up at Clarence. “This would have come in handy earlier. Or not. Considering I couldn’t move my freaking muscles.”
“Company plan,” he said. “Unlimited in-network calls, unlimited text messaging, unlimited e-mails. Gotta love technology.”
I almost managed a smile as I shoved my key in the lock and let us inside. “Nice thought. Appreciate it. Not sure how I could have used it today—probably would have lost it in the battle—but here’s the thing: I failed.”
I glanced at him, expecting a pep talk. Instead, I got nothing.
“Right,” I said, suddenly uncomfortable. “Anyway.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, patting the pocket with the knife. “I ain’t here for this.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“But don’t expect platitudes, either, pet. Your failure may not have lost the war, but there’s only one battle left. The big one. And everything’s riding on you.”
“Not that there’s pressure,” I muttered.
“Hey,” he said, suddenly effusive. “You can do it right? Wouldn’t be here if you couldn’t. You just gotta be confident.”
“I am,” I said automatically. Then I thought about it and realized that I’d spoken the truth. Despite my failure with the Caller, I’d survived. More than that I’d learned.
And I wasn’t going to let evil win. I thought of Rose, and my resolve solidified even more. This time, I wasn’t going to lose.
Already in the kitchen, Clarence tugged open the refrigerator, then snorted with disgust. “So how’s the arm? Anything new popped?”
I shook my head, realizing that my arm would spark to life again when the Box was brought back into this dimension by a new Caller. I cringed, already anticipating the pain. Gee, it was fun being a map. Not.
“I just got home,” I said. “You don’t really think it’ll pop again so fast do you?”
“Time’s running out before the convergence,” he said. “They’re gonna act fast. Probably already have another Caller on the job.”
He opened the pantry and shoved things aside, peering at all the shelves. “So?”
“Huh?” It was the best I could manage.
“Keep up, Lily. Now we’re moving on to the official debriefing. The poison. The guy who shot you. You wanna give me the lowdown or not?”
“I—yeah. Sure.” I frowned. “Didn’t Zane already tell you?”
“The basics. Now you tell me.”
I did. Running him through the entire mission. “So how did they know I was there?”
“That’s the question, ain’t it? And we may not ever learn the answer. Coulda been a guard. Coulda been someone lying in wait to take you out. Someone who doesn’t want you around.”
“Who?”
“Dunno,” he said, but I had a feeling he had a suspect in mind. “And we don’t need to know. Right now, we just need to do the job. Time’s running out. Gotta focus. Next time they won’t Call the Box until the last minute. Right before the ceremony, maybe even during it. Whole thing’ll be one hell of a lot harder.”
“Great.”
He slammed the refrigerator door shut in disgust, then started rummaging through the cabinets, finally coming away with a battered box of Hostess Twinkies. I snagged one, then ripped it open and took a bite of the preservative-heavy confection. “Why would anyone eat this?” I asked.
“If it ain’t your taste, you don’t have to,” Clarence said, looking a bit bemused. “You only got her body, not her personality. Not her taste in food. And you don’t even really got her life.”
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s been eating at me.”
“Come again?”
I rubbed my temples. “I still want to know about Alice. I need to know.”
He blinked amphibian eyes. “Alice? Why?”
“What do you mean, why? Because I’m living inside her, and I don’t know enough about her. She’s the vessel, right? The vessel I’m stuck inside?”
“Come on, kid. We got bigger things to worry about.”
“I can worry about b
oth. Whoever killed Alice is a risk to me. To this body. They try to take Alice out again, they could fuck up the mission.”
He stared me down, clearly not believing that my motive was purely mission-oriented.
“Or maybe I just need to know.”
“Drop it, pet. Trust me. On that path lies madness.”
I lifted my brows, and he shrugged.
“Maybe not madness, but frustration. What does it matter what the girl was like?”
“I’m trying to fake a life, here. Do you really want me wasting time trying to figure this out on my own? Time I could spend training or whacking demons?”
“Whacking?”
“Dammit Clarence! Just tell me.”
“Okay, okay.” He moved the sofa and settled in. “Alice 101, here we go. Dad died of cancer. Mom fell down some stairs about five years ago. She was Egan’s sister, by the way. Left her share of the bar to Alice and Rachel.”
“Yeah?”
“Yup. You’re a proud owner of one-quarter of the place. Apparently you come into it when you’re thirty. Until then, Egan runs the bar, and your cut goes into trust.” He shrugged. “Ain’t no story there, pet. Not one worth telling anyway.”
“It’s a start,” I said. “But I want more than just the surface stuff. Like what do you know about the Bloody Tongue? About how it fits in?”
He turned curious eyes on me. “Fits in to what?”
“Rachel’s annoyed with me. With Alice. Said I shouldn’t have gone back to the bar. That I shouldn’t have gotten in with all that dark stuff again.”
“Dark stuff?”
“The pub, I presume. It’s got a rep. All the way back to witch trial days. And before, probably.”
“Yeah, it’s got a rep, all right,” he said. “I don’t know much more than what you get on that Haunted Boston tour, but I do know that Alice’s parents dabbled in the dark arts. Her mother, primarily.”
“Egan mentioned not getting along with his sister.”
“There you go.”
“Where?”
“Rachel musta thought Alice was gonna follow in Mom’s footsteps. And if Alice was hanging with Deacon Camphire, that was a damn good bet.”
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