“They called it obstruction of justice.” Tammi wiped some of the smudged makeup from her cheek. “They’re a freaking cult. I know, because I was raised by crazy fundamentalists. The difference is that my parent’s church had a broken neon sign outside of it, and the Brotherhood have taken over half our country.”
A wave of grief washed over Rosalind, yet something inside her wanted to cling to the gleaming image she had of the Brotherhood. “It’s a war between good and evil. We’re fighting to destroy monsters, like the demon who tried to control my mind not that long ago.” That was the Brotherhood’s explanation when their methods were questioned. In a war between good and evil, they must do whatever it took to win. Only the weak-willed complained.
“Nothing is that simple,” Tammi said. “You can’t divide people neatly into two different categories. I know that better than anyone.”
Something clenched tightly around Rosalind’s heart. “But you can divide humans and demons. Think about everything they’ve done to us. I’ve seen the pictures of the children they murdered—the school in Boston, the vampire attacks in Maine. That’s what evil is.”
Tammi cocked her head. “Demons kill humans. Humans kill demons. It’s the same thing.”
“It’s not the same thing. We’re fighting back. The demons want to use us and control our minds.”
Caine’s eyes flashed. “The only reason Hunters don’t use that particular skill is that they don’t know how. Have you asked Aurora how she got those scars all over her back? They’re from one of the Brotherhood interrogation rooms before she escaped. They used iron and hawthorn wood to carve her up. Fortunately, she’s oddly proud of the scars. Demons are no more evil than humans. Some of them just happen to be a lot more powerful.”
Guilt tightened her chest. “I didn’t know Aurora was in there.”
Tammi placed her hands on her hips. “I’m confused. You told me Caine was helping you, but you also seem to think demons are evil.”
“She did just call me an ‘abomination,’” Caine said morosely.
Rosalind sucked in a sharp breath. “Okay. That was… a little harsh, I admit. I just thought you were being controlling, but you’re not completely evil.”
“I’m sorry, am I interrupting a lover’s quarrel?” Tammi scowled. “Because I was talking about the fact that I’m a fugitive. It’s kind of a big thing for me right now. All I’m saying is, the Brotherhood want to throw me in jail and torture me until I crack. So if that’s not evil, I’m not really clear how we’re defining that particular term.”
Rosalind’s tears threatened to break through the surface. Tammi was right—Rosalind just hadn’t wanted to admit it. She still thought Caine was an arrogant jerk, but she didn’t want him tortured to death, and she definitely didn’t want her closest friend thrown in the Brotherhood’s prisons.
Sorrow welled in her chest. What about all the innocent people who’d gotten caught in the Brotherhood’s crossfire? Or what about people like her, corrupted by magic through no fault of her own, hunted down like she was some kind of murderer? The Brotherhood’s reach had spiraled out of control. Even she could see that now.
Yet she’d been a willing part of this system, refusing to let herself think about the casualties and the collateral damage. After all, in a war between good and evil, anything was justified, right?
“I can see how the Brotherhood’s methods are… problematic.” She glanced at Caine. For once, he was keeping his mouth shut. Maybe he understood that her whole future was collapsing before her. “I suppose my loyalty to the Brotherhood is just another example of my chronic wrongness.”
“It’s really the primary example,” he said.
Grief overwhelmed her, and she fought to keep the tears at bay. She’d been thinking of the Brotherhood as her family for so long. But maybe they were a severely dysfunctional, abusive family—not unlike Mason. And if they were coming after Tammi, it was time to move on. “I won’t go back to the Brotherhood. I still want to protect humans and fight the real monsters.” Suddenly exhausted, she rubbed a hand over her forehead. “Maybe the monsters aren’t as easy to identify as I once thought. Only the really horrible ones, like Bileth, and the mage inside me.”
Tammi crinkled her brow. “The what inside you?”
Rosalind glanced at her friend. “I’m possessed. By the ghost of a crazy lady.”
Tammi narrowed her eyes. “That’s what they told me in the church I used to go to.”
“Yeah, but mine is a real possession. I have access to magic, but I can’t use it without being possessed by a maniac. And not only that, but if I take my ring off, my skin starts burning, like I’m standing in the center of an inferno.”
Tammi’s eyes widened. “Holy shit, Ros.”
“There was one way around that, if I recall,” added Caine.
“I can’t throw myself at you every time…” Flustered, she let her sentence trail off.
Tammi twirled a strand of blonde hair around her finger, eyeing Caine. “That doesn’t sound so bad to me.”
A smile played over Caine’s lips. “I told you your friend was sensible.”
When she thought of taking off her ring, panic blazed through her nerves. “Forget it. How soon can we go see the sybil?”
“You still want to do that?” Caine asked. “Even though you’re starting to understand that the Brotherhood are wrong about everything—including that magic is evil—you’re still running away from your own power like a scared child.”
The way he spoke to her still irked her. “Yes. I want the exorcism. But if you need to hear it, you’re right about the Brotherhood, Caine, and I no longer have a future. I hope that makes you feel better. You obviously like control over things, and now another thing is going your way.” Still flickering between anger and a burning disappointment, she felt a sudden need to lash out at him again. “Out of curiosity, does anything ever not go your way, or do you just seduce or hypnotize your way into getting anything you want?”
Anger flashed in his eyes. “That’s quite the statement from someone noble-born and raised in a mansion. I’m guessing this is the first terrible thing to ever happen to you and that’s why you have no idea how to handle it.”
“You’re guessing wrong.”
Caine studied her with an unreadable expression.
Tammi cleared her throat. “This conversation is fun and everything, but I can’t really go back to the Thorndike campus without getting arrested, so….”
Rosalind touched Caine’s arm. “Can she stay with us? Please? Just until we get the spirit out. Then we’ll figure something else out, and we’ll get out of your life.”
“Another human to look after?” he asked. “It’s not a good idea.”
“What else is she supposed to do?”
He traced his fingers over his jaw, considering her plea. “Fine. At least she’s more sensible than you are.”
Tammi wiped away another tear. “And then what? Where can we go that the Brotherhood won’t find us?”
Rosalind turned to her friend. “It’s going to be okay. Josiah said he’d help work on my case. I know the Brotherhood are unreasonable, but Josiah isn’t. He said he’d help look for a precedent. If they’re not after me, they’ll stop harassing you.”
Tammi crinkled her brow. “You think Josiah can do that?”
“I can’t guarantee it, but…” Her sentence trailed off. It’s the only option we have just didn’t sound very reassuring. She glanced at Caine. “How soon can we go to Elysium?”
“We can go as soon as you want.” His cold gaze met hers. “But if you want to come with me, you’ll have to learn to act submissive for a few minutes. The only pedestrians allowed in Elysium are there as courtesans to offer pleasure to the demons.”
She crossed her arms. “You have got to be kidding me.”
Chapter 19
Rosalind wasn’t sure which was worse: the fact that she was willingly going into the demons’ night club—pretending to be a
courtesan—or the ridiculous outfit Caine had created for her, using magic.
After studying her body to take her measurements, he’d transformed her ragged outfit into a tiny white dress. Now, she tottered along the road in six-inch heels, practically tripping over her own feet.
For a demon associated with pleasure, he’d created bizarrely sadistic shoes. Still, as he’d pointed out defensively, the heels contained actual stiletto blades in case things got messy, and the hair sticks pulling her locks into an untidy bun were fashioned from large hawthorn spikes, inset with iron. Perfect for staking vamps if anyone got bloodthirsty. As an extra precaution, she’d collected a vial of iron dust, now tucked in her cleavage. This time, she wasn’t going into a demon lair totally defenseless.
Elegant in her slinky leather dress, Tammi had already mastered the art of walking in heels. In fact, her new ensemble had almost brightened her morose mood. As they walked, she smoothed her hair over her shoulders.
Draped with stunning silver jewelry, Aurora took a swig of something from a flask—blood, probably. “You sure it’s a good idea to bring the pedestrians into these places? Demons get hungry. Shit. I’m hungry.”
“We don’t have a choice,” Caine said. “Rosalind will have to meet the sybil directly to get the oracle.”
“What about Tammi?” Aurora asked. “She could’ve stayed at your house.”
“No way I’m missing a demon sex club,” Tammi said. “This is the only good thing to come out of this shit show.”
Caine wore dark jeans and a form-fitting T-shirt that showed off his athletic physique and his tattoos. Rosalind couldn’t stop her gaze from lingering over his body.
“I’ll make sure nothing happens to them,” he said.
Rosalind stumbled over a stray brick, then righted herself. “I can fight, too. I’ve come prepared with several weapons. It’s almost like no one is impressed that I speared a high demon.”
“You can’t even walk normally,” Aurora pointed out. “The spearing was obviously pure luck.”
“It’s these shoes,” she shot back through gritted teeth. At this point, she was almost hoping things got rowdy so she could demonstrate her real skills—not that she had any desire to run into Bileth again. In fact, a shiver inched up her spine at the thought of him. “Speaking of my amazing skill at spearing demon princes, Bileth won’t be there, will he?”
“No chance,” Caine said. “These types of places, where light and shadow demons mix, are completely forbidden by the gods. A high demon like him can’t know this place even exists, or everyone inside would be cast into the seven hells.”
“If they’re risking that, the cocktails at this place must be amazing,” Tammi said.
“While they go off to find their sybil, I’m going to get you a thyme-tini,” Aurora said. “They are to die for. Not literally.”
“If this place is for all kinds of demons, what sort of demon runs it?” Rosalind asked.
“A valkyrie named Mist,” Caine said. “Try to avoid her. She can be—difficult.”
That was probably an understatement, considering valkyries were ancient demons of war and death. The aristocratic demonesses not only collected souls for the storm god, but they could instill other people with battle-crazed wrath.
Tammi flipped her hair over her shoulder. “How, exactly, does one act like a courtesan?”
Caine walked with his hands in his pockets. “All courtesans have been trained by Arielle, a succubus. She has taught legions of humans over the years, and she’s an expert in seduction.”
“So, we’re supposed to be seductive?” Tammi asked.
“Yes,” he replied. “And, if you can, try to give the impression of underlying desperation and maybe some emotional issues.”
Tammi touched her lips. “Oh, I’ve got all that covered.”
Goose bumps covered Rosalind’s arms, and she hugged herself. “Acting seductive wasn’t exactly part of my training.”
Caine’s eyes trailed over her body. “You’ll be fine. Just—try not to speak.”
“Thanks.”
Aurora took another swig before wiping the back of her hand over her mouth. “And if anyone asks, you two human courtesans belong to us. I’m claiming Tammi, since she’s less stupid than Rosalind.”
Ouch. “There’s that classic vampire charm again,” Rosalind said.
They turned into a small, tree-lined square dominated by a stone church built to look like a castle. Their footsteps clacked over the pavement, and the only other sound was the wind rushing through maple leaves. Rosalind hugged herself tightly, trying to control the nervousness buzzing through her body. She was about to step into a nightclub full of monsters, dressed as bait, with only a few tiny weapons.
Steeling her resolve, she followed Caine to a heavy oak door. As he chanted a spell, she felt the sensual touch of his aura, trailing over her skin like butterfly kisses. The sensation was extremely distracting, and she tried to focus her thoughts on her weapons. They’d be the key to saving her life—and Tammi’s—if any of these demons tried to devour them.
The door swung open into a packed dance hall, lit by glowing balls of light. Rhythmic music blared, the bass vibrating deep in her body.
Waves of magic unfurled from the creatures inside, skimming her skin with red, periwinkle, emerald, nectarine, and gold. She’d never been around so many magical auras at once, and they rushed through her chest. Shivering with their power, she tried to pick them apart. She had a sense that some belonged to powerful hellhounds and vamps. Others belonged to simple nature spirits: wood nymphs and tree sprites. She couldn’t get a read on their intentions, but her overall impression was that the creatures inside this club were here for one thing: pleasure.
The auras were intoxicating, almost overwhelming. She reached out to anchor herself, gripping Caine’s arm. At his touch, her mind cleared again, and she could feel only his clean, tingling aura caressing her skin. Interesting. She hadn’t known you could block out other auras with touch.
Caine turned to her, his eyes trailing over her dress. “You look perfect.”
Embarrassingly, her cheeks flushed, and she glanced into the club. Aurora and Tammi were already pushing into the crowd, heading for the bar, but a small group had gathered around Rosalind and Caine. The human women wore a vivid collection of jeweled hot pants, corsets, glittering underwear, and fishnets.
Apparently, her own outfit was rather conservative.
A green-eyed beauty at the front of the group ran a finger down her ruby red bra. She had a perfect hourglass figure, and her eyes were fixed on Caine. “Are you an incubus?”
“How did you know?” he asked with a smile.
The woman flicked her hair over her shoulder. “I’ve never seen anyone so hot in my life.”
A smile played over Caine’s lips. “You obviously have good taste. Seeing as you’re someone who knows things, do you know where I’d find a woman named Sambethe?”
She smiled, obviously thrilled at the chance to help him. “Yeah. She’s the weird gray-haired lady. She’s always in one of the booths back there.” She pointed to a far corner. “She just sits there, hammering margaritas.”
Gold lights pulsed over Caine’s smooth skin. “You’ve been most helpful.”
The woman took a step closer, eyes hopeful. “Are you looking for a human mate? I’ve been dying to meet an incubus. We all have.”
He slipped his arm around Rosalind’s waist, the bass vibrating through his skin. “I’ve chosen my courtesan for tonight.”
Courtesan. She was a Hunter, damn it. Or at least, she used to be, back when her life had a point. She schooled her face into a wide-eyed expression that she imagined courtesans wore, mouth slightly open. She tried to ignore the flash of self-loathing.
The blonde frowned, casting a critical eye over Rosalind’s body. “Her? Why? What’s so special about her?”
Rosalind opened her mouth to defend herself before realizing that she’d been about to extol her ow
n virtues as a courtesan. So she did the wide-eyed thing again. Gods, kill me now.
A wicked grin flashed over Caine’s face. “She’s beautiful, obviously. But more importantly, she’s mute.”
Rosalind’s mouth clamped shut. Jerk.
Disappointed, the woman strutted away.
A mute, adoring woman—that would suit him. She gave his arm a squeeze that she hoped hurt just a little, but before they could move beyond the door’s entrance, another woman approached—this one clearly a demon. Seven feet tall, she wore a metallic gown that shimmered over her body like liquid mercury. Translucent black wings rose from her shoulders, a stark contrast to her platinum hair. Gray eyes bored into Rosalind.
Caine inclined his head. “Mist. Thank you for welcoming us.”
“I haven’t seen you here in a while,” she said, eyes still lingering on Rosalind. “I see you brought a human. I trust you know the rules here. The only humans allowed must be courtesans, trained by Arielle in the art of serving demons.”
“Of course,” Caine said. “Arielle gave me this one as a gift. She loves to serve my needs.”
Rosalind cringed. The urge to roll her eyes was almost overpowering.
Mist scanned the length of Rosalind’s body, like she was assessing a prize horse. “She looks surprisingly strong for a courtesan.”
Caine slid his arm around her waist. “I chose her for that reason. I don’t like my girls to break when I play with them a little roughly.”
Rosalind bit down a retort. This excursion better be worth it.
“Well. Enjoy yourselves.” With a last, lingering glare at Rosalind, Mist slipped into the crowd like her namesake.
Caine held Rosalind’s hand, leading her further into the club. She tried not to stare at the demons and humans grinding against each other, or the nymphs gyrating in cages, wearing sequined pasties.
A few human men stood in archways, offering up their necks to female vamps, or following after them on leashes. All fairly pathetic from the human side of things.
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