Demon Marked

by Anna J. Evans

  “You’re not going to die,” she said, smile slipping at the sobering thought.

  “I know I’m not. And you’re not going to sleep around.”

  “No. I’m not.” Even if sex was the answer to her problems, even if she could have been feeding on sexual energy instead of evil since she was old enough to have intercourse, it didn’t matter. She didn’t want anyone else. She wanted Andre. Fussy, vain, loyal, brave Andre. And he seemed to want her as well.

  But would he still want her if her demon mark were responsible for turning him into a killer? If Little Francis had been up to the very bad things she suspected, and Andre was the one to out his plans, then Andre would have to take care of the problem. The Contis were a kinder, gentler breed of mobsters, but they were still organized crime. If LF had betrayed his family, put the lives of Conti women and children at risk, and tried to make a deal with gang members and demons behind his father’s back, he’d have to be dealt with. And as the senior Conti in town, that would be Andre’s job.

  Emma had seen in his memories that he’d never killed anything before, not even the demons he’d helped hunt as a younger man. Taking a life—especially the life of one of his own—would destroy something inside him, that core of faith in his own goodness that made him the man he was.

  She shivered, though the air-conditioning in the small room was hardly functioning at top capacity. She had to get to Little Francis and have a hands-on conversation. Now. Surely she and Andre would be safe if they went directly to the Conti family offices. Little Francis couldn’t hurt Andre with half the family there to witness it.

  And once she had confirmation, she’d find a way to take care of him herself.

  “We should go.” She stood and reached for one of the white towels on the table near the bed, trying not to think about how many other people had used them to mop up various excretions. At least the rag smelled like bleach; surely it was clean enough.

  Her thoughts made her laugh beneath her breath.

  “What’s funny?” Andre came to stand beside her as he adjusted his clothes.

  “I was wondering how clean this was.” She held up the towel before tossing it in the linen basket near the table. “I think you’re starting to get to me.”

  “I know you’re getting to me. I don’t plunk down four thousand dollars for just any woman.” He stared at the tray filled with all the trappings of the antivenom. “I’m just glad we didn’t ...” He paused, slowly reaching for the dish containing the silver powder, tilting it to the light before letting it fall back onto the tray with a curse. “Dr. Finch.”

  “Dr. Finch?” Emma echoed as she buttoned her jeans.

  “That’s why you suspected I had something to do with all this, isn’t it?” he asked, turning to pin her with one of his most piercing looks. “Because of Dr. Finch. Because I was the one who told Little Francis to call him.”

  Emma’s mouth opened and closed without a sound as she struggled to understand where Andre was going with this.

  “Don’t lie to me,” Andre warned. “No more lies.”

  “I told you about Dr. Finch,” she said. “I saw him performing some kind of back-alley surgery ... something that made him a lot of money, but that’s all I could see for sure. I was so out of it by the time I touched him that I couldn’t—”

  Andre cursed again. “I should have realized.”

  “Realized what?”

  “I’d never seen anyone suffer through the antivenom like you did this morning. I thought about how odd it was before I went to talk to Francis, but I didn’t—Shit! He has to be in on it.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that Dr. Finch is working with the Death Ministry and probably my fucking cousin,” Andre said, scooping his coat from the ground and shrugging it on. “The antivenom he gave you this morning was silver, but not like this. I’d forgotten the antivenom powder was so bright before it was mixed with water. Whatever Dr. Finch gave you was something else.”

  So Finch was in on this, too. It made sense that Little Francis had recruited other members of Conti Bounty, but how many? Just how deep did this go? What if...

  What if this went all the way to the top? What if the Contis weren’t what she’d thought them to be? Maybe Uncle Francis had decided it was time for the family to get in on the lucrative drug trade and had given his son directions to get the ball rolling in his absence. She didn’t know the exact nature of the business that had taken the elder Francis out of town, but she’d heard mention of “new revenue avenues.” What if one of those avenues was running demon drugs?

  Still, that didn’t explain the ransacking of her apartment or her attempted kidnapping.

  “It was probably some sort of spasm-inducing drug,” Andre said, still thinking aloud. “If you’d gone into convulsions, you would have been transported to his clinic uptown. From there, it would have been easy for him to administer the antivenom and do what he wanted with you.”

  “Or let me die. Some of the spells don’t require the demon-marked person to be living,” Emma said, pushing away the anxiety that rose in her chest.

  She couldn’t believe that the Contis were crooked. Jace would never do anything to hurt Sam, and Andre had proven he would risk his life for hers. This had to be something Little Francis had cooked up on his own.

  “I can’t believe this,” Andre said, his expression darkening. “We trusted that man. He knows the Death Ministry has terrorized half the ...” Andre froze again, his attention focused inward before he turned back to where Emma still stood by the bed. “You said you saw Dr. Finch cutting someone open.”

  “Yeah. A man.”

  “And he wasn’t wearing gloves?”

  She paused a moment, searching her memory, wondering what Andre was getting at. “No, he wasn’t. I’m positive he wasn’t.”

  “But if he were harvesting organs to sell on the black market, he’d be wearing latex gloves. He wouldn’t want to risk contaminating the organs or himself.”

  Emma nodded. “Riiight.”

  “So why wasn’t he wearing gloves?”

  “I ... don’t know.” For the first time in this conversation, she was the one who was out of the loop. Why would Dr. Finch put himself at risk like that? It didn’t make sense.

  “He wasn’t wearing gloves because he didn’t care about preserving the organs, and what he was pulling out of the man would be ruined if it made contact with latex.” Andre paused again, giving her the second she needed to catch up.

  “Oh my god. Demon drug mules.” Plastics and demon drugs didn’t mix. It was why everything on the table next to her was in a ceramic or metal container. It was also the reason the rate of blood-borne diseases had skyrocketed along with the popularity of demon highs, as addicts shared expensive all-glass needles.

  Andre nodded, obviously pleased that she’d come to the same conclusion he had. “The new police chief’s narcotics team has been cracking down on the Death Ministry’s runs to the pleasure islands, searching boats, confiscating any demon drugs they find. But still, somehow the pleasure islands haven’t experienced any dips in their supply.”

  “They’ve been using drug mules.” The image she’d seen of a weeping Stewart being handed a child’s sieve suddenly made an entirely new—and repulsive—kind of sense.

  “And Dr. Finch has been helping them retrieve their drugs when whatever they’re using to pass them through the human body fails. The guy that Little Francis said was found cut open—he must have been a mule. He had the drugs inside of him. ...” Andre trailed off, fingers coming to play along his bottom lip in a movement that was oddly sensual. Who knew watching a man think could be so sexy? “And we’re guessing that whatever your power does to people drew it out of him and into you?”

  “And the same thing happened with Stewart,” Emma confirmed. “It hit about an hour and a half to two hours after I fed both times.”

  “But the first time, Dr. Finch had to go in to fetch the drugs after G
reg kicked the bucket,” Andre said. “Maybe your power made whatever the drugs were wrapped in burst?”

  Fear clutched at Emma’s throat as her certainty that she hadn’t killed the man in the alley faded away. “So I might have killed him.”

  “If you did, it certainly wasn’t your fault. Still, we need to know what happened to Stewart. We should—” He broke off as his bud pulsed in his ear. She hadn’t even realized he’d turned it back on. “Just a second—my cousin Michael’s calling. Don’t worry, I won’t tell him anything until we know who we can trust.”

  Emma’s heart raced as Andre ordered his bud to answer the call and the man on the other end of the line began to speak. She knew before Andre said a word that he was getting bad news.

  “Michael? What’s wrong? What are you ...” He trailed off, eyes going wide. “You did? You’re not? Why the hell not? Have you contacted Francis or—Oh, he did?”

  “What? What is it?” Emma asked after the tense moment of silence stretched into three minutes, then four. She’d never seen Andre so pale. “Andre, tell me—”

  He silenced her with a gentle hand in the air. “I understand. I’ll take care of things on this end, but we have to talk later. Yeah. About this morning, and ... some other stuff. You haven’t talked to Francis about—” Emma watched Andre’s shoulders relax the slightest bit. “Good. Don’t. I’ll take care of that, too. And Emma is going to need to talk to Ginger.” He grunted his disapproval of Michael’s response. “Well, figure something out. Try giving her a Xanax or something. We’ll touch base tonight.” He tapped his bud, ending the call before Emma could say a word.

  “Wait! What happened? What happened to Ginger?” Emma asked. “Why did you hang up? I should—”

  “Ginger was kidnapped,” Andre said, his dark eyes full of a rage she didn’t understand until he spoke again. “By people who thought she was you.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Emma’s lips parted in shock. “What? But how—”

  “Michael said they were members of your parents’ cult.” Andre double-checked the location of his wallet and gun, obviously preparing to leave their unexpected sanctuary. “They didn’t know what you looked like. Only that you were a blonde who worked at the Demon’s Breath. Two of them, men, showed up at closing time and shoved Ginger into a van while she was out on the street, looking for you. She got away but ran from our people because she thought—”

  “She thought they were working with the men who’d taken her,” Emma said, cursing beneath her breath. She’d suspected as much.

  “Most likely.” Andre sighed. “But I guess it was good she didn’t go with our people, either.” Knowing that his family couldn’t be trusted was weighing heavy on his shoulders.

  “Do you think Mikey ...” She let her words trail off, not wanting to voice the suspicion out loud. “Do you think Ginger’s safe?”

  “I think Mikey is one of the good guys, but ... I can’t know for sure.”

  “But he saved Ginger, right?”

  He nodded. “The cult members found out they had the wrong girl and stopped at a hotel. She managed to escape. Michael and our team found her walking on the side of the road and convinced her they were the good guys. She’s okay but pretty messed up by whatever happened. She’s refusing to come back to the city. Little Francis told Michael to stay with her.”

  “Little Francis?” Her skin crawled. “I don’t like the sound of that. Call Michael back. I have to talk to Ginger. I have to see if she’s really okay,” Emma insisted.

  “Mikey said she’s hysterical and won’t talk to anyone. That’s why I told him to give her a—”

  “I don’t like this, Andre. I need to know Ginger is safe, and I have to find out what happened to my purse.”

  “Well, I can help you out with the last part. Ginger had your purse. You were right,” Andre said. “Michael sent it back to New York with a couple members of his team. It should be here within the hour.”

  “What about the spell book?”

  “It’s in there. Before she broke down, Ginger told him that the people who kidnapped her were after your book. They took it from her, but she managed to get her hands on it before she escaped. She knew it was something you’d like returned,” Andre said.

  “She knows it’s dangerous. For everyone. That’s why I don’t let it out of my sight.” Emma sighed, the knowledge that her grimoire was in the possession of the Conti family members not giving her much comfort. “What about the men transporting it? Do you think they’re working for Little Francis?”

  “I doubt it. I know Mikey’s team. They’re good guys. Besides, if cult members were the ones after you, Little Francis probably doesn’t even know about your book.”

  “But we don’t know for sure. And we can’t let Little Francis get his hands on it,” Emma said, frustrated with Andre’s dismissive tone. “You should call the men. We can try to meet up with them ourselves.”

  “Emma, relax. These guys are solid, and they’re going to the safe house. I’ll get up there and get your book and keep it safe. I swear it to you. Trust me.”

  “I do trust you. I just ...” She buried her face in her hands, fighting to gain control of the anxiety pulsing through her veins. Something wasn’t right about this story. If former cult members were the ones after her and the grimoire ... “Andre, cult members taking Ginger by mistake doesn’t explain why two guys working for your family were trying to kidnap me. Why did Stewart leave that key in my apartment to lure me down to the shelter? He and that Death Ministry guy weren’t working with the cult.”

  “They must think you know about the drugs. They must think that Greg guy told you he was a mule for Little Francis ... or something,” Andre said, beginning to pace the tiny space.

  “But why kidnap me if it had nothing to do with the spell book? Why—”

  “Not all drug mules are volunteers, Emma.” Andre turned to face her. “They might have decided to volunteer you themselves, especially after you threw off whatever drug Dr. Finch gave you and walked out of Conti Bounty under your own power. They probably figured you had the perfect mule constitution.”

  “So they wanted me because of drugs,” she said, the explanation still not sitting well.

  “And they probably still do.” He pulled his gun from his coat and pressed it into her hand. “That’s why you’re going to stay here with my stun gun while I go sort through this fucking mess.”

  “Here? You want me to stay here? But what about—”

  “I know it’s not ideal,” he said, his brown eyes shifting to the rumpled bed and the tray of demon antivenom. “But I don’t want you out on the street until we make sure you’re safe. Now that we know the Death Ministry has a contact in our organization, it isn’t safe for you to go back to the bounty office. Not until I have a long talk with Francis.”

  “No, Andre.” She couldn’t let him walk into Conti Bounty alone. “He could hurt you, even kill you. You can’t go—”

  “I’m not going to go in there alone. I’m going to meet the rest of Michael’s team at the safe house uptown, get your purse, and make sure that book is locked away in a safety-deposit box. Then me and a few of the guys I’m sure I can trust will head back down to the office.”

  “What if the team is in on it?”

  “I don’t think they are.”

  “But they could be. Michael could be lying. He could—”

  “That’s a chance I’m willing to take to get this book off the street. If no one can touch it, then no one’s going to want to touch you. Right?”

  Emma nodded, comforted that her safety was Andre’s top priority, even at a time like this, when his family could be falling apart.

  “So I’ll have an armed escort for that talk with Francis. As soon as we’re done, I’ll come back here to get you.” He walked to the door, pausing to flip open the two locks. “I’ll be an hour and a half. Two at most. I’ll drop another grand at the front to make sure you’re not disturbed.”


  She hesitated, torn between continuing to argue with Andre until she convinced him he couldn’t handle this alone, and jumping through the window he’d just opened. It would take him an hour to get uptown and back. That was more than enough time for her to get to the Conti offices, have that hands-on chat with Little Francis, and make sure he never hurt anyone again. There was a chance Andre wouldn’t be able to forgive her for taking out his cousin, or that she might not be able to handle Little Francis and his thugs on her own, but those were risks she was willing to take.

  She owed Andre two or three, and she knew that being forced to take out his own cousin would destroy an important part of him. He was a lover, not a killer. No matter how tough he tried to play it, Emma could see how horrified he was by the thought of taking a life. She, on the other hand, had experience dealing death. If one of them was going in there alone, it should be her. She’d just have to be more careful, shoot first and ask questions ... never.

  It would have been a no-brainer if it weren’t for one thing. “But what about Francis? Isn’t he going to be expecting both of us? If you show up uptown, he’s going to get suspicious and—”

  “Little Francis is busy in the basement with Stewart and the Death Ministry guy they just picked up. That’s why Mikey called me. Douglas told him I was free to meet the team at the safe house.”

  “But Francis is expecting us both at the office,” Emma said, still confused by the fact that Andre wasn’t confused. “He knows you’re with me. Why would he—”

  “I left Francis a message while I was paying for our admission,” Andre said, hand lingering on the door handle as if he’d leave any second, as if he hadn’t just confessed to telling her one thing and doing another. To lying, when he’d insisted she tell nothing but the truth. “I told him we’d been delayed because you were ill but that we were in a safe place. I’m assuming he thought I’d taken you to the safe house, so it won’t be a big deal for me to meet the team and fill them in on what’s been going on. And if that’s the case, it doesn’t seem he thinks we know anything about his ... extracurricular activities.”