Stefan wasn’t there. I hadn’t really expected him to be, and yet my own disappointment surprised me. He could clearly look after himself. While Akil had hinted Stefan’s number was up, I was quietly confident the so-called ‘Enforcer’ had dealt with such threats before. Besides, there was nothing I could do. I didn’t know where Stefan was or what Akil planned. I could only look out for myself.
The flame spluttered. A dribble of wax spilled over the candle lip, dribbling down its side and onto the coffee table where it hardened. I straightened the kitchen knife beside the candle, going over the incantation in my mind. Summoning a demon isn’t as difficult as you’d think. In fact, all you need to do is invite them by name, but you have to be careful. They’re slippery bastards, and my brother was no exception.
I picked up the knife then put it down again, wiping my clammy palms on my jeans. “I can do this.”
Outside the basement apartment, the city noises mingled in a cacophony of passing cars, high heels clicking on the sidewalk, and the occasional blaring horn. I found it all comforting. I always had. Silence made me nervous. I picked up the knife again, wrapping trembling fingers around the handle. My brother Val would sense my fear. He’d enjoy it. If I was uncomfortable, he was happy. It had always been that way, but he wouldn’t be pleased I’d summoned him. At least the marks would keep him under control—hopefully.
“I must be mad,” I muttered. The one demon I know without doubt wanted me dead, and I was summoning him. What part of that was sane? But Val would have answers.
Kneeling, I leaned forward over the table, my face close to the flame. Knife in my right hand, I clasped my left hand around the blade and tugged. The cut stung, but it was a necessary pain, part of the payment for the summoning. Squeezing my hand into a fist, I lifted it before the candle and watched a few droplets of blood trail down my pale skin.
“Valenti, first born of Asmodeus, Son of the Seven, Guardian of the Dark, Brother by Blood, I— your half-sister—summon you into this time and place. I invite you to share with me your presence.” My throat constricted. The sudden grip of fear strangled me. “You will not harm me.” My voice trembled, “I bid you heed my words. By this flame, our element, I welcome you.”
Nothing happened.
I looked around me, expecting some sort of movement, but besides the little candle flame, nothing moved. There was the chance the marks might have prevented me from summoning him, although a summons itself was not elemental magic. It was just an invitation extended between two layers of reality.
“Sister,” he hissed.
I twisted to face the source of his voice and scrambled backward, knocking an elbow against the table, making the candle wobble.
Val stood motionless by the door, head slightly dipped, gazing from under snow-white lashes. His storm gray eyes were beautiful. I’d always thought so. Hair as white as snow cascaded over one shoulder. A simple leather strip tied it together. The weathered leather coat, which hung from his shoulders to his grey lace-up boots, was more cloak than coat. Supple black leather trousers and a black leather vest completed the ensemble. I could pick out the close-set tubercles in the cuts of animal skin and might have placed the leather as shark, but there are no sharks in the netherworld. There are however plenty of vicious, saw-toothed demons. I didn’t want to think about what demons might have died to satisfy my brother’s leather fetish.
Nerves fluttered in my chest like butterflies in a jar. My element stirred within me, but the marks adorning the walls prevented it from manifesting. In fact, all I felt was cold. The trembling in my body completely betrayed the depth of fear my own brother roused in me.
He had a look of perpetual amusement, as though this world and its people were an infinite source of humor. His lips constantly flirted with a smile, and his eyes were alight with infinite knowledge. He might not have been one of the Seven Princes like our father or Akil, but you wouldn’t know it from the sheer confidence he exuded. He lifted his head, finally detaching his powerful gaze from me and sweeping it around the room.
I fought not to sigh with relief, trying desperately to keep all of my emotions locked tightly away.
“Curious,” he mused, approaching the kitchen to admire Stefan’s hastily spray painted artwork on the cabinets. “These will be the reason I cannot shake off this mortal guise.” Every word was a precise study in elocution.
He had wanted to arrive tooled up in his full demon guise as opposed to the man-suit he wore now. I was glad he hadn’t been able to. When he looked human, I could at least pretend I might have a hope of talking with him. I silently thanked Stefan’s ingenuous symbols.
As I clumsily got to my feet, Val swung his attention back to me, pinning me to the spot. I froze, giving him the typical deer-in-headlights expression because it was all I could do not to run through the door out into the street. I hadn’t been this close to him in nearly a decade. I’d been a young girl then. He hadn’t aged at all.
He very slowly tilted his head to the side. “I had hoped you’d be dead by now.”
“Did you send Hellhounds after me?” I blurted. The less talk, the better. Neither of us wanted to be here, in each other’s presence, so the sooner I could get the truth from him, the sooner we could go back to our lives.
“Hellhounds are so archaic…” He continued around the small room, admiring the markings. He was certainly more interested in those than he was my presence.
Hellhounds archaic? No more, or less, than he was.
“Did you paint these symbols?” He flicked his hand.
I didn’t reply. He could think that I had. It might make him wonder what else I knew. He smiled at my silence, not in the least bothered whether I answered or not.
“No, I see not. This cage is beyond your rudimentary thought processes.”
It wasn’t an insult, not in his eyes. It was fact. I clamped my teeth together, refusing to react to his words. They were, after all, just words.
His tour of the lounge complete, he stood opposite me, mere feet between us. I had a fleeting thought that if Akil knew I was doing this, he’d never let me leave his side again. Val reached inside his coat and withdrew a rapier, the type of sword one might use to pierce one’s opponent through the heart. The point would be needle sharp, the edges less so.
I smiled, an odd reaction, but I could appreciate a well-crafted weapon, and his rapier was indeed a work of art. The blade appeared to ripple. Light glanced off its mirror smooth surface. There was no elaborate flare about it, just ruthless efficiency. “Really? Swords? I mean, I’m unarmed, I’m half human, and I’m a female. Strapping guy like you, you don’t need a sword to kill me.”
He lowered the sword until the tip hovered a few inches from the floor. “Looks can be deceiving, especially in your case, Muse. You’re wasting my time.”
Right, time meant nothing to him. I slowly lifted both hands. “All I need to know is if you sent those hounds after me.”
“You think your fleeting existence occupies my thoughts? You insult me, Muse.” He didn’t look particularly insulted, just amused. I imagined some cats have that expression, right before they bite the heads off their prey.
He hadn’t approached me, so perhaps he didn’t intend to use the sword. “Is that a no?”
“Tell me who crafted these symbols about the room, and I’ll tell you the truth.”
I remembered then how Stefan had told me he’d wanted my help to kill Val. They obviously had a history of some sort and here I was, caught in the middle of it. “His name is Stefan.”
Val’s level expression ticked. His fingers twitched on his sword. “He helped you?”
“Now answer my question. Did you send the Hellhounds?”
“No.” He smiled, enjoying the fleeting emotion he saw skip across my face and my subsequent attempt to hide it.
Akil had sent those hounds. Nobody else was capable of summoning them. Nobody had enough power to control them. Akil had sent them. He meant to kill me. Had he set
the explosion at the workshop? The demons at the party? Even the detective? No, not him. Akil had slain him to save me… No, not to save me, to save his own honor.
Val laughed as he read the panic in my eyes. Irony dripped from that laughter. Its menace unbalanced me, and a peculiar lightness swept over me. I swayed a little, reaching for the couch. Val lunged forward as I knew he would, stealing what he thought to be a moment of weakness on my part. I sprang back, snatching the kitchen knife from its snug little hiding spot, tucked into my jeans against my lower back.
Val slashed the sword toward me with a snarl. The kitchen knife wasn’t the most appropriate weapon against a sword, but it was all I had. He kicked over the coffee table, toppling the candle onto the floor where it snuffed itself out.
Val immediately pulled back, realizing his mistake. With the tiny flame gone, he had no anchor to hold him there. With the summoning revoked, he could do nothing but let it happen. His human form began to dissolve before my eyes, blurring around the edges first. The white of his hair smudged against the shadows like a chalk drawing in the rain.
He peeled his lips back, those eyes as dark as thunder clouds. I’d escaped him this time, but I’d also reminded him I was still alive. If he hadn’t been trying to kill me before, he might just step up his efforts now. I saw him casually slip the sword back into his scabbard before he fixed me once more with a threat-laden stare. He didn’t need to say a word for me to know what he was thinking.
Only when every swirling speck of his image had vanished from the room did I breathe again. It took a few minutes of measured breathing to regain anything resembling composure, and it didn’t last.
The front door of the stranger’s apartment beckoned, but outside Akil would find me. Out of the frying pan and into the fire. How was I meant to stand next to Akil and not let him see how afraid I was? Just that morning, I’d believed he cared for me. He was right. He had never given me reason to distrust him, and yet here I was, going behind his back and summoning my brother to answer my suspicions. Val hadn’t given me a name. He wouldn’t have even if I’d asked. He’d rather see me suffer than tell me the whole truth. But he’d given me enough.
Thoughts rushed through my head as I attempted to clean up the apartment, working on auto-pilot and trying to think of a plan. I left a note for the owner, apologizing for the mess and left a few hundred dollars. It was all I could afford.
I had to find Stefan. He was the only person who appeared to have an interest in keeping me alive. If Akil realized what I’d done, how I’d summoned Val, I couldn’t even imagine how he’d react. He’d been less than jovial when he’d demanded I tell him everything Stefan had told me. Stefan had proof. Akil knew it. That must have been why he’d demanded to know everything Stefan had told me.
I leaned back against the kitchen cupboards, folding my arms crossed and chewing on my bottom lip. The second I stepped out of that door, I’d be fighting for my life. I could run. I might even escape the city, but Akil would find me. I’d invited him in and when you invite a Prince of Hell in, they don’t just get access to your home, but also your life. He would know where I was until the day I died. What an idiot I’d been.
Not all was lost though. There were ways of revoking an invite. I’d never looked into them because I was never going to be stupid enough to invite a Prince of Hell into my life, but it could be done. Stefan seemed like the type of guy to know how. In fact, Stefan’s company looked mighty appealing, considering the alternative.
I noticed a phone propped up in its cradle at the end of the countertop and on the spur of the moment, picked it up and dialed Sam’s number. He was the only person in my life who wasn’t out to get me in one form or another. I needed that normality.
“Hi, this is Sam Harwood, Architect. Leave a message, and I’ll call you back between the hours of nine and seven.” Even the sound of his voice on his answering message lifted my mood.
“Hey.” I sounded gruff in comparison. Glancing at the door, I wondered if I’d ever see him again. “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry. For everything. You’re a good man, Sam. The best. You…” My vision blurred, forcing me to lift my head and blink. “We had some great times. I’m sorry if I hurt you. You didn’t deserve that. But I’m not who you thought I was. I’m not a good woman, Sam, and the people around me, they’re dangerous. I just… I just wanted to hear your voice again before…” The phone beeped, cutting me off.
I wanted to go to him. He was honest, and I’d meant what I’d said. He was a good man. Too good for me. He would wrap me in his arms and listen as I talked. We’d crack open a few beers, rent a movie, and I’d curl up beside him on the couch, head resting against his shoulder while his arm hooked around my waist.
I could no more go to him than I could go to the police and tell them I was being hunted by my demon boyfriend, not to mention the dozen bit-part demons that thought it was their duty to separate my head from my neck. I placed the phone back in its cradle and cast one last look around the basement apartment. The closed front door loomed in the corner of my eye.
“Here goes nothing.” I shoved away from the countertop and left the apartment.
Chapter 12
It took all of about thirty minutes for Nica to arrive and sit herself in the comfy armchair across my table in Starbucks. I’d been sipping a grande latte while people-watching as I waited for her to arrive, hoping the safety in numbers theory applied to me. The coffee house buzzed with activity. Professionals tapped away on their laptops. Some teens sat engrossed in a game on an iPad beside a line out the door for coffee. It was exactly what I needed. Should Akil or Val show their faces, they weren’t likely to try anything untoward in such a public place. That didn’t mean they couldn’t though.
“Thanks for coming.” I smiled at Nica, hoping it reached my eyes.
“No problem.” She crossed her legs, straightening her pencil skirt as she watched me sip my coffee. “I’m due about a dozen lunch breaks, so figured I was owed a little personal time.” Her bright smile had already begun to lift my mood.
“You didn’t tell Akil?”
She shrugged. “I doubt he’d be interested in the fact we’re having coffee together. It’s not exactly high on his agenda.”
This time my smile hitched a little higher. I’d called her from a public phone and asked her to meet me. In all likelihood, Akil would have sent her after me as soon as I’d left the safety of the basement apartment, so I figured I might as well preempt his move with one of my own. “You know that file you gave me on Stefan?”
“The assassin?” She tucked her short blond hair behind her ears and leaned an arm on the table.
“Yeah, whatever he is. Did you discover anything about where he lived?”
“No, he covers his tracks really well. But there was something… We had a lead on a guy who deals in guns. He’s sold some ammunition to Stefan in the past. The gun Stefan uses, the one with the scorpion branding on it, it’s a fifty caliber brushed chrome Desert Eagle. A gun like that gets noticed.”
I wondered briefly if Stefan had retrieved the weapon from his car after it rolled. I hadn’t seen it on him afterward, and I’d had an eyeful of him post-accident, but something told me he wouldn’t leave a gun like that behind.
“Why?” Nica’s smile teased across her lips, her eyes brightening with mischief. “What are you planning?”
“Who says I’m planning anything?” I placed my cup down on the table, licking my lips. I couldn’t trust her; I barely knew her. She worked for Akil—spent every day with him from what I could gather. Whatever I told her, I could assume would go straight back to him.
“Okay.” She tried to catch my eye. “I can get you the address of the dealer if you want.” She plucked her phone from her bag, fingers tapping out the security code to unlock it. “Why do you want to find Stefan?”
I had to tread carefully. “I want to know what he knows.”
“Even if he tries to kill you?” Her thumb navigated across th
e touchscreen of her phone.
“He won’t.”
Nica lifted her gaze over the phone to question me with her eyes. “What makes you so certain?”
He saved me from the Hellhounds, saved me from the explosion at my workshop, saved me from the demon in the stairwell. Right now, anywhere he occupied was the safest place for me. “I’m not that easy to kill.”
Nica grinned and showed me a map on the screen. “If we take my car, we’ll be there in less than fifteen minutes.”
I nodded. “Won’t Akil miss you if you don’t return to work?”
Nica flicked her hair back, suddenly becoming animated with excitement. “No. He’s out most of the day. I can catch up with paperwork tonight. I’d much rather be shaking down a back alley arms dealer than filing tax returns. Wouldn’t you?”
I chuckled. “That’s not what this is. I’m just going to ask some questions.”
“Right, and he’s going to tell two uptown girls what we want to know because he’s a nice guy?”
“You’re uptown. I, most certainly, am downtown. Trust me.”
At least it wasn’t night. The dead end street would have looked much less appealing draped in darkness. In full daylight beneath the winter sun, the dumpsters glistening wet from a recent rain shower, it didn’t look quite as foreboding, but it still wasn’t going to feature on a tourist map any time soon. Air conditioning units hummed from the mismatched buildings lining the narrow back street. An abused 70’s Corvette sat beached unceremoniously on bricks outside a car workshop, its wheels gone. Either it was in a state of repair, or in the process of being picked-clean by local thieves.
A group of three young men loitered on the corner of a side street, hoods up, watching Nica and me climb from her silver Mercedes. I had to wonder if her car might resemble the Corvette on our return.
Demons & Djinn: Nine Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Novels Featuring Demons, Djinn, and other Bad Boys of the Underworld Page 152
