Anger unlike any he’d felt before coursed his veins. “Then bring me the Ars Notoria.”
Seere’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. For once he seemed out of his element.
“I want the Ars Notoria. The entire book, no pages missing.” With more force behind his words, he felt better about the decision. Maybe Seere would take him seriously now.
All the mirth vanished from the prince’s face. “You don’t know what you risk if you read from that book.”
“Tell already tried to turn me off the notion of reading from any of the grimoires. Remember, if you fetch it for me, I’ll owe you a personal debt. Whenever you’re ready to collect, my liege.” Eban didn’t break eye contact with the demon. He couldn’t, not if he intended to seal the bargain.
“Very well.” The rippling air curtain opened again and Seere stepped through it. He disappeared without a sound.
Eban paced around the sigil, picking his cuticles as he waited for Seere to return. It wouldn’t take long. The prince had the skill of finding any treasure in moments.
Said to be given to King Solomon by the archangel Michael, the Ars Notoria was full of orations to ask God for wisdom and eloquence. It also had the power to summon angels—who might know how to banish a minion from a human body.
The air shimmered as Seere reappeared. He held out a burlap-wrapped object. Despite the power he claimed to possess, he couldn’t touch the book without injuring himself because of its divine properties. Tell had wrapped it to prevent that happening to any demon that might stumble across it, wherever it had been hidden.
“I have marked your debt.” Seere didn’t sound as confident as he had before fetching the book. “Mind yourself with that, Heckmaster.”
He didn’t linger. One moment he was in Eban’s room—the next the seal on the floor was wiped away in a swirl of cinnamon that left Eban sneezing. It was a harsh reminder that Seere could be summoned, but he couldn’t be trapped without a proper summoning circle as part of his agreement to keep out of Hell’s affairs.
Seere and Tell wouldn’t allow Eban to conjure a demon that could order Rosemar out of Beryl. They wouldn’t give him the tools to banish her himself, but Seere had provided the key to summoning an angel that might. More likely the prince thought Eban would end up destroying himself instead of actually calling an angel.
Unfortunately, summoning an angel was a great deal more difficult than drawing a seal in a pile of herbs. Fasting was required, specific words, prayer. Things Eban had little patience for with Beryl’s life on the line and his desire to leave.
He unwrapped the twine and pulled the burlap off the book’s cover. It was an old text, the pages stained from years of passing from hand to hand. It was a translation from the original book, but no less powerful for that. The seal of Solomon was inked onto the thick cover and the title was written in Greek with the English translation beneath.
He hoped he’d learn something from it, because whatever favor Seere eventually called in wasn’t going to be pleasant. Even though he had no malicious intent toward the world, Seere wasn’t prone to benevolent whims either.
Downstairs, the door shut and prickles crawled over Eban’s skin. Did Tell already suspect he’d contacted Seere?
“Eban?”
Beryl’s voice reached his ears and he sighed. He replaced the covering over the grimoire, then stuffed it beneath his mattress.
“I’m upstairs.”
He heard her climb them as he swept cinnamon under the bed with his hand. She stepped through the doorway, giving him another of her sweet smiles. Eban dusted off his hands, grimacing at the brown streak left behind on his dark trousers.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“A little housekeeping.” The lie rolled smoothly off his tongue.
“Smells more like baking.” She looked around the room, golden brows high on her forehead.
“Cinnamon keeps the air fresh. Old folk remedies say it has healing properties. I figured why not give them a try.” He shrugged, struggling to keep his hands apart so he wouldn’t pick his fingernails.
Her smile widened. “Because you believe in real medicine, not hokum?”
“Feeling all right?” Changing the subject was easier than continuing his lies.
“As usual. You’re a fine doctor, Eban. I wouldn’t worry about switching to home remedies just yet.”
Something about her intense gaze bothered him. No signs of Rosemar, but almost a fraction of the emotion the lust demon used when she looked at him. Was it…love? He scoffed at the idea. Beryl was grateful he’d saved her life, at least temporarily. If he didn’t banish Rosemar soon, he might not be able to help her again.
“I’d be a finer doctor if I had a patient once in a while. I haven’t so much as threaded a needle since Noem came.”
He’d ended up resetting his own nose after Wystan broke it while he was under the control of his demon side and had fished two bullets out of Tell when an echidna shot him in attempt to take Rhia to Noem. That had happened weeks ago. If he didn’t start a real practice with human patients soon, he’d forget how to treat them.
“Don’t wish for such things. You might get them. I like Berner better when it’s peaceful. I was thinking about taking a walk before dinner. Would you like to join me?”
Beryl offered her hand. For a second, he was tempted to take it. Instead, he stared until she dropped it by her side again. Her hopeful smile faded.
“If you’re busy, I suppose I’ll go by myself.”
“It might be dangerous out there. Tell’s lesky and ursa demons weren’t far from town.” Protection made a good excuse for accompanying her. And possibly keeping Rosemar out of trouble.
“Oh. I thought he was out by the Pit when he ran into them.” She shivered a little. “You don’t think there are more close by?”
“I’ll take my saber in case. It doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”
The weapon hung from a hook inside his wardrobe. He crossed to it, took the sheath off the hook, then wrapped it around his waist. The silver blade was lighter than it looked and twice as deadly. He’d used it in the battle against Noem, and before that to behead a questing beast Astaroth had sent to devour the Heckmasters. In the last four months, it had tasted an ocean of demon blood. Noem had snapped it like dry tinder during the battle for Berner. He owed yet another favor to Seere for having it reforged by a demon craftsman in the bowels of Hell. The shining blade looked and felt stronger than ever.
He seldom carried a weapon, because he hated the idea of using one. When Rosemar was in control of Beryl’s body, she was capable of defending herself. The demon seemed repressed now and as far as he knew, hadn’t raised the silver hatchet he’d given her since the day of battle.
They left the clinic and turned down the street in the direction of the angel statue Eban’s father had erected for his mother after they were married. The angel’s eyes were hollow and water ran down its dark marble cheeks, splashing over its robes and into the pool at its feet. Large wings were tucked behind it, not spread. When he was a boy, he’d thought it was a happy angel, but as the years wore on, its features melted into something bleak and hopeless—the same feelings that bounced inside his chest. Some days it felt like he was never going to escape Berner, rooted here just like a statue.
Beryl took a seat in front of the angel. Flowers bloomed around the fountain, their fragrance releasing into the air with sweetness that didn’t belong in a demon-filled town.
“I’m glad the flowers haven’t died. I have to admit, I was worried when we arrived here. There was no plant life. It’s a miracle, isn’t it?” She cupped a blossom in her hand, careful not to pluck it from the stem as she inhaled its scent. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think Rhia and Wystan had something to do with it.”
Bitterness clogged Eban’s throat. “I don’t have an exp
lanation for it.”
When he was eight, the humans in Berner had burned his mother at the stake when they found out his father was a demon, even though he’d spent years shielding them from Astaroth. A protective spell his father put into place to protect the citizens backfired, killing the humans, but leaving the Heckmasters and a few other demons that had already arrived here alive. All the plant life had died as well, except thorny or sticky weeds. When Tell spilled the tower full of holy water to destroy Noem, new plant life had sprung up, turning Berner’s brown, depressing streets green with grass and flowers.
Eban had to admit the fountain looked more like it had in his youth and it wasn’t an unwelcome sight.
“You should see the sunflowers Rhia planted. They’re probably seven feet tall and the heads are huge. They’re beautiful.” Beryl leaned back, gazing up at the blue sky, another innocent smile gracing her face.
Her skin was pale because she didn’t spend much time outside. Smooth and milky, her face was unlined and youthful. He guessed she was in her mid-twenties, still young enough to find love and start a family. A few pieces of wheat-gold hair escaped the complicated looking braid she’d fixed, rippling in a gentle breeze. Her eyes were bright and reflected her happiness. Beryl was a beautiful woman, but he didn’t think she knew. She dressed modestly and blushed often, especially when she thought he wasn’t looking.
Surrounded by flowers, she looked like a drop of sunshine sitting in a garden. Even the angel above her didn’t look as fierce with her perched on the fountain. Her lips were full, begging for a kiss, and since she’d filled out, she had a figure many women would envy. A pink flush of pleasure highlighted her cheekbones. He wanted to make her laugh again, but when he glanced at the evening primrose growing between the rocks at the fountain, he remembered Rhia. The chasm in his heart widened and he came to his senses.
“I’d rather not talk about them,” he muttered.
She slipped her hand over his. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. I should’ve known Wystan would get his way. He always did, until the day she arrived. She wouldn’t take no for an answer.” He stared out of the border where the town ended and the expanse of desert started. “Do you remember that day?”
She nodded. “It’s a little fuzzy, probably because I was feverish, but I…” A scarlet blush brightened her cheeks.
“What?”
“I remember you. I didn’t trust you, not right in the beginning, because Rhia was running from Noem. Then you smiled and…well, I’m not blind. You’re a handsome man.” Beryl turned her face away. “Trusting someone because he smiled may not be the wisest thing I’ve done.”
Particularly three men who were half demons, two of whom were plotting to kill her if the demon inside her turned on them. The uneasy feeling took over in his stomach again.
“I made you a promise that day. I said I’d do everything in my power to see that you got well again. Convincing Wystan wasn’t easy, but it was the right thing. I want you to know that I took that promise seriously. You’re safe here.”
“I know.” She stiffened. “Are you planning to leave soon?”
Her eyes widened, the unique pale green standing out like the jewel she was named for, bright against her pale skin.
He controlled his expression so she wouldn’t see his concerns ran deeper than just getting away from Berner. “Sometime. Most likely after Wystan returns. I can’t leave Tell on his own.”
“They love you.” She leaned closer. “I know about Wystan trying to drive you away, but I think you’ll see things are different now. They both depend on you. Rhia will help Wystan settle in as a family man, but someone still has to look out for Tell.”
Eban scoffed. “Tell’s been taking care of himself since he was a boy. He’s more careful than me and Wys put together. If I really believed one of us would be able to end Astaroth, it would be Tell.”
“Maybe he will. Where will you go?” She ran her fingers over the rough stone she sat on, her eyes firmly on the rocks.
“I started my schooling in St. Louis, but I was thinking about Sacramento. I hear they have good weather.” It pained him to think he was nearly thirty and hadn’t completed his degree. Was there any use in going back to school? “To be honest, I haven’t given it much thought.”
“That makes me think you don’t really want to go. Berner isn’t so bad.”
“It’s a matter of pride.” It sounded ridiculous, but he couldn’t imagine facing Rhia every day and watching her love for Wystan grow while his heart crumbled like an old adobe wall.
“Spoken like a man. Your loyalty should be to your family, not yourself.”
She might as well have kicked him. He knew that, but Wystan had lied to him about his feelings for Rhia. It might have been different if he hadn’t made a fool out of himself trying to convince her to run away with him.
“Maybe New Mexico Territory isn’t big enough for three half demons.”
“Rhia tried running from her problems and they found her anyway. No matter where you go, you know staying here with your brothers is the right thing.” Her voice was soft. “Seere said as much.”
He started at the prince’s name. “Who told you that?”
She shook her head, brow furrowing. “I don’t remember.”
“Have you spoken to him?” Eban watched her closely, searching for signs that Rosemar was emerging. Beryl’s expression was still too soft, too human.
“Personally? I’ve never met him. I’m not sure I want to.”
“Stay away from him as long as you can. He has an effect on women that could make you do things you wouldn’t normally think about.” He scowled as he thought about Seere’s handsome countenance.
Beryl laughed. “Jealous?”
“No,” he denied. “He can be charming and it’s his nature to trick humans into doing his bidding. He’ll offer you riches and trap you in his snare for eternity.”
She frowned. “I thought you were allies.”
“On his terms.” He clenched his fists. For better or worse, he owed Seere whatever scrap of soul he had left—if he’d ever had one to begin with.
“If you could defeat Astaroth forever, how would the Gray Side react?” she asked. “I know they’ve extended their help, but to what end?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s the question we’d all like answered. They never bothered with us before, so why now?”
Beryl rested her head on his shoulder. “Until we know otherwise, I’m choosing to believe it’s for a good reason. I don’t like to think Seere and his legion will step in and destroy everything good about this place.”
“What good?”
She gave him a patronizing look. “You’re not a pessimist. You brought me back from the brink of death. That means you still carry plenty of hope.”
“I’m half demon. We’re not supposed to do good.”
“Stop.” Her eyes narrowed. “Everyone has good inside and you have a big heart. I like that about you. Even when things look hopeless, you find a reason to carry on. I owe you my life.”
He should have known she’d feel that way. He would have in her place. The best thing he could do was dispel her sense of debt. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“That’s generous, but if I can find a way to repay you, then I’m going to do it. That’s a promise and I won’t break it.”
A surge of anger ripped through Eban. Beryl didn’t deserve to spend her life with a lust demon occupying her mind. He’d harbored his doubts that the Ars Notoria could help, but looking at her, he knew asking for it hadn’t been a mistake. It would be days before he was in the proper state of mind to summon an angel. Starting today, he’d begin fasting and preparing.
“We should get back before dark. I have some research to do.” He rose, then turned his back on her and the angel with its all-kno
wing glare.
Chapter Four
Berner’s streets were dark, the way the demons of the night preferred them. It made traversing them a more dangerous venture, but Rosemar had never feared the dark, though her senses were duller inside the human body. The pathetic creature’s eyes weren’t made for such little light. She marveled over how many demons opted to occupy human hosts. There were animals better suited for the task, yet she’d needed a body with the ability to talk in order to follow her liege’s orders.
She walked down the middle of the street, breathing in the scents of alcohol and intimacy. The one saloon in this town was on the opposite end from Eban’s clinic. She didn’t mind the walk, enjoying the feeling of stretching her human legs and the cool desert breeze that brushed her face. The tinny sound of a badly tuned piano reached her ears.
Seere would frown on her call to the saloon, preferring that she act as normal as possible in case the human she tenanted should remember any of this. Rosemar laughed at his worries, reminding him that she’d pulled Beryl’s weakened body from a situation worse than one she’d find inside Berner’s saloon. He agreed she’d done well in choosing a woman no one would miss, but he didn’t like her taking little excursions, preferring she stayed near Eban.
Eban was predictable, too human, a weakness that wouldn’t do any good in the war against Hell. She seldom argued with Seere, but Eban wouldn’t have her in his bed and she needed some relief, even if it came in the form watching rather than participating. Try as she might to convince him Beryl wouldn’t mind if he entered her body, he wouldn’t break. His demon blood should’ve overridden any foolish human notions. She wondered if Seneca Heckmaster had ever regretted taking a human female as his wife and having offspring with her.
The saloon spilled bright light into the dark street. A few demons lurked outside, smoking cheroots with glowing cherry tips. They watched as she passed, but she gave off enough of a malicious aura that they didn’t attempt conversation.
Alcohol flowed in the barroom, which was crowded with all manner of creatures that didn’t belong on this side of Hell. Many of them could have passed for human, or claimed human bodies for their own, but Berner was safe enough that they could appear in true form. As long as they didn’t cause trouble, the Heckmasters would let them live here as they pleased.
Eban Page 3
