Vowed in Shadows

by Jessa Slade

  Nanette shuddered. “Jonah, may I introduce you to my warden, Cyril Fane?”

  With the tenebraeternum providing entirely enough difficulties, the league kept little more than haphazard records on the angelic host. They were secretive even among their own, and downright hostile toward the talyan. Jonah knew only that the wardens were highly placed among the spheres.

  But he recognized a challenge when he saw one. “Nanette, Nim, perhaps you should wait outside.”

  “Don’t presume to order the host from any sphere,” Fane growled.

  “Or me either,” Nim said.

  The chill that spread through the garage was tinged with feminine ire . . . and the arid, metallic tang of the demon realm.

  Fane stiffened. “Talya, take your feral symballein and leave before I’m forced to torch my house to rid the defilement—with you inside.”

  “Please, Jonah,” Nanette whispered. “Mr. Fane has been a friend to the league in ways you can’t understand.”

  “With friends like these . . .” Nim muttered, just loud enough.

  “I’d make a worse enemy,” Fane said.

  Jonah looked at Nanette, who stared back with imploring eyes. She trusted Fane enough to let him minister to the haints she’d taken on. And Jonah trusted her. But Fane . . .

  Jonah slapped the hook against the garage door button on the wall beside him with a crack of metal on plastic. The door grumbled up in a wash of late-summer light and heat.

  Fane squinted his annoyance. The host, Jonah knew, hated revelation—the public kind, not the end-of-the-Bible kind—almost as much as they hated demons. He could hope that being exposed before the neighborhood Joneses would prevent the angelic possessed from recreating any scenes from The Exorcist.

  “Nim.” He chucked his car keys. “Back my car out so Nanette can leave too.”

  She caught the keys. “Trying to get me out of the way?”

  He didn’t see any need to confirm her words. “Nanette, I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

  Nim muttered as she headed out of the garage. “Now I’m an inconvenience.”

  He didn’t respond to that either.

  Nanette swallowed. “It’s nothing. But I’m not leaving quite yet.”

  Jonah turned to Fane, whose gold-sparked stare had locked the smaller woman in place. “Why is she frightened of you?”

  “Because I am warden and she has transgressed.” He waved his hand irritably. “And because I’m terrifying. But I promise I am merely composing a stern lecture in my head, not planning to beat her, so you can stop glowering.” The fulminating gilt of his eyes faded, revealing tiny lines at the corners that made him look weary. “I suggest you not be so indulgent with your symballein.”

  That unfamiliar word again. Jonah fixed it in his head. “The teshuva have never been noted for their mercy.”

  Fane smiled crookedly. “Indeed not.”

  “Jonah,” Nanette protested.

  He gave her a look. “Remember who earned you that stern talking-to. If you wish, say a prayer for her tonight.”

  She subsided and stood back with Fane as Jonah stalked past them to the open door.

  “Talya,” Fane called. When Jonah paused, the angelic possessed crossed his arms. “I’ll have words with you too about this alleged hunt for the djinn.”

  “Offering the assistance of the spheres?”

  “I think you know better.”

  Jonah pulled out his wallet—his thin, decimated wallet—and thumbed an @1 business card from one of the inner pockets. He laid the card on the hood of the motor home. “Have your people call my people.”

  “That would be a good start,” Nanette said eagerly.

  Fane snorted. “You know better too.”

  Jonah hesitated another moment, but Nanette gave him a tiny head shake. She looked more forlorn than truly frightened, so he turned away. He wasn’t doing her any favors by keeping Nim around to spur the higher angel’s temper.

  The garage door started creaking down before he’d quite cleared the interior, but he didn’t duck.

  Nim was in the driver’s seat of the well-used hatchback, and he contemplated booting her out. Then he just sighed and slipped into the passenger’s seat.

  “Where’s Nanette?” she asked. “Is he keeping her prisoner? Should I ram the garage?”

  He gave her a look.

  She put the car into reverse. He didn’t speak as they left the curving roads of the ritzy subdivision.

  When they merged onto the straight shot back into the city, she finally cleared her throat. “How did you find me?”

  “There was a giant, blinking neon sign over the house that said ‘Nim is getting into trouble here.’ ”

  “I’ve been looking for a new place to dance. Maybe Fane will let me keep that sign.”

  At the thought of the haughty angelic possessed—and Nim dancing anywhere nearby—Jonah gritted his teeth. “I’m sure you can just make another one.”

  Her palm rubbed a quarter circle arc over the steering wheel. “And you’d come for me there too?”

  Was that why she’d run off? To see if he’d follow? He almost snapped. But he hesitated at the odd note in her voice. If he didn’t know better, he’d call it wistfulness. “I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. The bond between us doesn’t care when or where or why. I will come for you.”

  She didn’t turn her gaze from the road, but she rubbed her palm reflexively down her thigh. The motion captured his attention until he forced himself to look away.

  “Damn it.” She smacked her hand on the steering wheel again. “I forgot my shopping bags in Nanette’s van. I don’t suppose it’s a good idea to go back now.”

  “Why did you go to the church at all?”

  “I went shopping.”

  He shifted in his seat, barely feeling the depleted wallet under his backside. “Can you buy forgiveness?”

  “I knew you wouldn’t understand. People like you and Nanette never do.”

  “People like—”

  “Good people,” Nim burst out. “You don’t understand doing it wrong.” She sighed. “I was scared.”

  “Of coming home with my empty wallet?”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “You don’t really care about that.”

  “Jilly will. Her old life with a nonprofit gave her an appreciation for making every penny count.”

  “Yeah, I noticed she doesn’t have much use for deadweight.” She trailed off.

  He frowned. “Did Jilly or Sera say something to scare you off?”

  Still she hesitated. “Oh, it’s just . . . everything. I didn’t want to wait around for tonight. I’m scared something else bad is going to happen because of me. I’m scared I can’t even be good at being evil. Repentantly evil. I figured I wouldn’t have to think about any of that at the church. And if I had cuter shoes.”

  “Nim, I’m here, so you don’t have to be scared.”

  “I was scared of that too, facing you after . . .” She regarded him from beneath half-lowered lashes.

  They’d stopped at a red light, so he didn’t have an excuse to look away. He ran his hand over the back of his neck, flustered. She was a liar when it suited her, a knee-jerk flirt, a thief of convenience, and still she spoke with a painful insight that humbled him.

  “Do you hate me for corrupting you?” she pressed. “Am I your bane now?”

  Was it too late to return to the angelic possessed and fight him to the death? Another interrealm war would be less fraught than this conversation.

  “I could never hate you, Nim.”

  “Oh, trust me. It’s easier than you’d think.”

  He reached across the space between them and brushed the backs of his fingers against her cheek. In the endlessly lingering summer light, her dusky skin was warm and soft under his touch. She had tempted him, seduced him. But corrupted? “I am not one of those men.”

  “No,” she whispered. “No, you’re not.”

  The light turned green and
he released her.

  They drove to the warehouse in silence, and she parked inside the barbed-wire lot. The docking bay door was thrown wide-open, and a handful of the talyan had gathered in the twilight.

  Liam paced the edge of the concrete dock alone, his mate nowhere in evidence. Jonah felt a twinge of sympathy. Having just suffered through the frantic agony of being unable to locate his other half, he wondered if knowing where she was but that she was injured and there was nothing he could do would be better . . . or worse.

  As they got out of the car, he was suddenly, fiercely glad Sera had suggested the women would stay behind tonight in solidarity with the bed-bound Jilly.

  Ecco leaned against the wall, rolling a cigarette. In a moment, the scent of cloves drifted across the yard.

  Nim nodded at the big talya. “Can I get a drag? Now that I’m immortal and all.”

  Ecco held on to the blunt. “Immortality won’t help me much if your boyfriend rips my lungs out through my nose.”

  Nim slanted a glance at Jonah, then sighed. “Never mind, then.”

  Like a pack of hunting dogs, the talyan continued to gather, talking in small groups or lounging near the dock. At some unknown signal Jonah had never identified except by the prickling of his demon, they quieted and came together, senses on alert, the first glimmers of violet in their eyes.

  Liam halted off to the side, and as one the talyan faced him. “I have had enough of Corvus Valerius.”

  A wave of muted laughter rippled through the warriors, but the tension didn’t ease. If anything, Jonah’s nerves felt strung tighter as the demonic emanations thickened.

  “Andre coughed up a hint of a location for us,” Liam said.

  “With hardly any blood,” Archer added.

  Liam didn’t smile. “He waxed a bit poetical, but we think Corvus is holed up near an airport. We set Andre loose to confirm, hoping he’d go running back, but we lost him when he backtracked through a tenebrae dumping ground outside Englewood. Maybe we’ll pick him up again. At least his bones.” He shrugged. “Since the djinn are as territorial as the leagues, we doubt Corvus would stray as far as the suburbs. Leaving us two choices: O’Hare and Midway, with the old Meigs Field as a long-shot third choice.”

  His sharp blue gaze roamed the talyan. “For almost a year now, we’ve taken hits from the djinn-man, if we can still call him that when the man is almost gone and the djinni runs rogue. According to some interpretations of our mission, confronting him while he still wears the tatters of his human skin is outside our sanction. Maybe we should let the angels and the djinn war over our heads while we and the teshuva are fit only for the shadows. So I’ll leave it up to you where to hunt tonight.” He paused. “But I do have a half dozen cars that will circle all three locations and end up at the Coil for beer on the league’s tab before last call.”

  From the back of the dock, Nando sent up a little cheer. “I’m ready for a new headache.”

  This time, Liam gave them a cold smile. “Unless, of course, we find Blackbird, and then I’m calling you all in for the ravaging.”

  That got a big cheer.

  As the talyan divvied up toward the cars, Nim sidled next to Jonah. “Which of the three should we try?”

  He jumped down from the loading dock—to get away quicker, not because he wanted to leer at the bounce of her breasts as she followed. “I’m going to Meigs Field. It’s not even an airport anymore, and I think Andre was trying to be clever, giving us what we asked for while still protecting his patron. But you aren’t going.”

  She opened her mouth, and he thought she was about to object. He cut her off. “Archer insisted that Sera stay here to keep Jilly from sneaking out. So I volunteered you to stay too.”

  She bit her lip and slowly shook her head. “Wow, you males really got us figured out.”

  Something about her tone made him squint, but she looked guileless. Which made him narrow his eyes even more. The bond between them pulled him closer until he stood within the aura of her body, her heat signature, breath, and the incense perfume of her skin all matched to the restless demon in him. The thrum through his bones eased when he was next to her. He wanted to stay there, lost in that solace.

  But that was her thrall demon, luring him in again.

  He took a step back. “I’ll skip the drinking at the Coil.”

  “But not the ravaging, if you’re so lucky.”

  “That is why we’re going.”

  “I’m why you’re going.” She kicked at a patch of gravel. “It’s my anklet you’re after.”

  “It’s Corvus’s head we’re after. Everything else is an excuse.” He longed to reach out to her, to smooth his thumb over her woeful, outthrust lower lip. “We want so much more than we’ve had, Nim.”

  She gazed at him, as if she knew he wasn’t talking just about the league. “Come back soon. But not too soon.”

  She hopped up onto the dock and stood there as they all climbed into their chosen vehicles. She raised one hand to wave. In the last light, with her dreads hanging close around her, she looked like a primitive queen sending her warriors to battle.

  Jonah’s heart crashed in his chest, as if it wanted to leap past his seat belt and race back to her. He sighed.

  Archer slid into the driver’s seat. “Yeah, that’s love.”

  Jonah suppressed a curse. “Is it too late for me to pick another car?”

  “Yes. We’re going to share everything we’ve learned about the mated-talyan bond on the way to Meigs.”

  From the backseat, Nando groaned. “Girl talk.”

  “Shut up,” Archer said. “You could be next.”

  The talya perked up, but Jonah shook his head. “Let me tell you about an angel I met instead.”

  Nim watched the cars file out past the barbed wire. The crunch of tires on gravel sounded like breaking bones.

  She wondered if losing a hand would be as hard as letting Jonah go. If thy eye offend thee, pluck it out. Oh, great. How come she knew only the squicky parts of the Good Book? But the Bible was right; if she couldn’t be what Jonah needed to fight his battle, he’d have to cut her off. That was what everyone in her life had figured out long ago.

  The scent of cloves teased her, and Ecco stepped out from behind the Dumpster. “I’ll go bottle up some malice and meet you back here. Lock up behind me.”

  She followed him to the chain-link gate. “Do you think they’ll find Corvus?”

  “No, or I would have gone with them. Blackbird is smarter than us.”

  She eyed him. “Ever heard of this concept called allegiance?”

  The big talya shrugged. “Doesn’t get you anywhere. Brutal, but true. Still, now we have the three of you.”

  Her and Sera and Jilly. And whatever they could become together. “What are we again?”

  “I think you’re our chance. That’s why I didn’t go with them, and why I’ll risk some serious ass kicking if your boys find out I’m not with any of them.”

  “What happens if we get in worse trouble than they do?”

  Ecco’s teeth flashed brighter than his gauntlet blades. “Yeah, that thought had occurred to me.”

  When he sauntered out the gate, she yanked it shut with more force than was necessary.

  He brought his gauntlets down his thigh with a hiss of steel on leather. “What’s with the attitude? You like trouble. You got through your old life wrapped in trouble. That’s why you didn’t need clothes.”

  “Remember how I gave up my old life?”

  “Nobody changes that much.” He flicked the stub of his cigarette through the chain link at her feet and walked away.

  She waited until he’d disappeared beyond the corner of the warehouse, too far for even a demon to hear, before she answered, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  She went to the dock, pulled down the big door, and latched it against the night.

  Sera and Jilly weren’t waiting for her in the kitchen or in the lobby. She took a breath, closed her eyes,
and let her senses flow.

  She sensed the deadened zones, where Jonah had talked about energy sinks. And the leftover art no one had claimed from salvage held a sort of brightness from which the teshuva shied away. But a faint track led her to the stairwell and up to the roof.

  The two women were sitting on matching bar stools, their feet propped on the low lip of the wall ringing the rooftop. A third stool was pulled up beside them.

  Nim dropped onto it with a huff. “Couldn’t leave a note?”

  “Wondered if your teshuva would sniff us out,” Jilly said. “Even without the anklet.”

  “We already knew the artifacts didn’t give us our powers,” Sera said.

  Jilly shrugged. “Tonight we’ll find out what they are for.”

  Nim glanced at her. Dressed in cutoffs and a short sleeved cotton oxford, Jilly didn’t look like a woman who’d been nearly gutted earlier in the day. Except for the band of gauze that peeked through at the shirt’s unbuttoned neck. “You up for this?”

  Jilly gave her a look. “I’m up.”

  “I already told her we could wait,” Sera said. “The female talyan have been MIA for more than two thousand years. Another night wouldn’t kill us. Probably. Although weirder things have happened.”

  Jilly huffed. “With reassurances like that, is it any wonder I got up?”

  They sat looking out over the city, peaceful if not exactly companionable as the light faded.

  Jilly finally stirred. “What do you think happened to all of us, all the women warriors?”

  Sera sighed. “You know the league archives have almost nothing to say.”

  “Then I’m guessing we all ran away,” Nim said. The other two drew identical breaths as preparation to argue, their eyes reflecting their outrage along with the last of the sky glow, but she held up her hand to stop them. “Think about it. A man wins a woman, and he brags out loud to whoever’ll listen. He hits her? He’s got a long story about how she walked into a door. Hell, he’ll kill her and scream about how she had it coming. But if she runs away? Vast, echoing silence.”

  Sera puffed out her cheeks on a sigh stopped midstream. “That’s cynical.”

  “And believable,” Jilly said. “Saw it often enough with the street kids I worked with. Andre told me some of the things his dad used to say to him. . . .” She shook her head.