“What happened?”
This time I answer Smythe, my gaze never leaving my twin. “We killed the demon.”
He exaggerates a sigh. “How?”
I gesture to T, happy to note color returning to his face as healing magic streams into his body. Eloise rocks.
“T called ghosts who darted into the demon. They created enough of a distraction for me to slice off his head.”
“You look hurt.”
My gaze meets Smythe’s. Lines crease his forehead, drawing his eyebrows together. I look hurt? I glance at my arm, at the blood streaking my shirt, remember my flight into the wall. The only reason I remain upright is due to the justitia blocking all pain. I should be unconscious. I should want an immediate healing to stop the room from dancing a whirl.
Instead I’m more concerned about T.
Eloise touches my arm, skin on skin, but no wayward emotions crash into me. She’s learned to keep her thoughts to herself. Unfortunately.
“Oh, my.” Her eyes widen. “You need my help more than T does. Lie down.” She points at the floor, as if there was any other horizontal option.
I wrinkle my nose. Hopefully she’ll rid me of the cooties I’m bound to catch lying on the filthy surface. Although, why take the chance? Yes, my ribs are broken and blood continues to pool in my mouth, but I’d rather lay on my couch to be healed than risk this floor. Having my knees touch it was bad enough.
“I can wait until we get back home.”
Eloise tilts her head. Her eyes narrow. “There is nothing on the carpet to bother you. Now lie down.”
Either she possesses a compulsion spell that puts Smythe’s to shame, or I have a sudden change of heart. Without further question I do as she says, stretching out on the grime and praying for the germs to leave me alone.
She touches my shoulder and the room spins away, the scene changing into blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds. I float on an ocean, the low current bobbing me up and down, up and down, a relaxing motion calming my soul. Yep, Eloise still has that healing touch.
All too soon, the ocean fades, the room with its dull overhead light coming into focus. T sits beside me, normal coloring and a worried look on his face that morphs into a grin as my lids flutter open.
Low voices in the background clue me in others besides the five of us are in the house. The cleanup crew? To have a private moment alone with my twin, I speak telepathically, while remaining flat on my back.
Are you okay?
Yeah. You?
I draw in a deep breath. Yep. How did you do it? The ghosts, I mean.
His brow furrows as his gaze glazes with remembered horror. I saw you on the ground. Bleeding. Don’t know how I did it. I wanted the fucking demon dead. Something inside me snapped, and, well, it just happened. Drained the hell out of me.
I’m glad you’re okay. You scared me when you dropped out cold.
He glances down, back to me. I enjoyed it. All the power. Controlling all those ghosts. Who the hell can do that, you know? Directing them, having them enter the demon, who the fuck knew it would happen? Ghosts beat demons. He shakes his head. It was more than talking to them. Wasn’t at all like the time with our father. That was pure ghost talking. This, this was different. Does it make me a horrible person if I enjoyed it?
No. Not at all. I answer without thinking. Does a power grab make one bad? Only if the grab is for yourself. Using ghosts to kill a demon benefits humanity. All good. No problem. Besides, T was a good person.
Sure, he had his quirks, like falling for women with double D’s and a lack of brains—Eloise being excluded from those certain traits—but he has been a stabilizing force throughout my life, the person who always had my back. I love my twin.
If he wants to shoot ghosts through demons, it makes him a good person in my book, not a bad one. Killing a demon is always a good thing as far as I’m concerned.
Maybe I should go with you more often when you fight demons.
Not so sure I want you anywhere close to being hurt.
Same here. He grabs my hand, gives it a squeeze. Come on, let me help you up. They’re finished cleaning the room and waiting for us to leave.
He pulls me to my feet. Spots dance in front of my eyes as dizziness swamps me. I grab onto his arm to stay standing. Flat to upright too fast tends to cause my head to spin. Once the room stops whirling, I release my grip. T gives my palm a squeeze before dropping my hand.
“Does this mean you are going to tell Eloise you saw a ghost?”
He crosses his arms. “I said I’d ask her to take me back.”
“So it’s a yes?” I grin. He glares.
But only for a second. Then his grin matches mine. “Yeah. Maybe talking to them won’t be so bad. Maybe I can meet more of our relatives.”
“That’s the spirit.” I give his arm a playful whack. “Ha. Get it? Spirit?”
He rolls his eyes. “Give it up Gin. You aren’t as punny as you think you are.”
“Whatever. You know you like it.”
“Keep on deluding yourself.” He pats my shoulder. I shake my head.
“Come on. Let’s go home.”
We follow the voices down the hall. Smythe, Eloise, Will and the cleanup crew stand in the living room, their hushed conversation ending at our approach.
Eloise steps forward with a smile creasing her face. “There’s our demon killer. Better?”
I give her a hug. “Thank you. Again. Your healing rocks.”
She pats me twice on the back, a silent request for me to release her, which I do.
“Glad you are up and around.” Smythe touches my arm, his gaze drawing me in, drowning me in the depths of his concern. Deeper emotions cross his face, shadows of desire.
Yeah, I forgive him. Maybe I should continue being pissed, but life is too short to live without him being more than my guardian mage. I need to tell him how I feel when we get back to my place.
Provided I can think of a way to approach the issue without seeming like all I want is a bedmate.
For now, I offer him a grin and a hug. “I’m glad to see you up and about too.” I turn to Will, who stands apart, a little awestruck, a lot uncomfortable.
I don’t even need to touch him to get a read on his emotions. His wide eyes coupled with his hand running through his hair and continuing gaze hopping are clues enough.
My poor friend got a crash course in demon hunting.
I give him a hug too. He looks in desperate need of one. A quick touch on the back of his neck proves my suspicion: shock and awe.
“Glad you are okay, Will. Why did you come?”
“Didn’t want to leave him alone.” T slaps him on the back as I drop my arms from his waist. “Didn’t want him doing anything rash with the demon messing with his head.”
“Good decision. Although I’m not sure exactly what happened.” Will pitches the last word almost like a question, as if he wants us to explain.
We don’t. Maybe later. My stomach growls. For now, I want to get home to reheated pizza, a beer, and a discussion of how to storm the Agency. You know. A normal Friday night.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Eloise opens a portal and shuttles everyone except the cleanup crew to my kitchen. The pizza might not be hot, but the kitchen holds the delightful scent of pepperoni and tomato sauce. While everyone else grabs cold pizza, taking turns reheating it in the microwave, I go to my room to change clothes. Nothing like black demon blood to kill an appetite.
After changing into clean jeans and a T-shirt, I nuke my pizza and join the others at the table for a post-demon-killing wrap up. Since my beer is now warm, I stick the opened bottle in the fridge to cool off, grabbing a new replacement.
“Anyone else want a beer?” I hold up my bottle for a visual reference.
“Sure.”
“Yes, please.” Will echoes T’s request, while Eloise and Smythe shake their heads.
Putting my plate and bottle on the counter, I grab beers from the fridg
e, deliver them to Will and T, grab my food and drink, and sit in the chair next to Smythe.
He pats my leg, fingers lingering a second too long for the touch to be a “hi, nice to see you.” I grab his hand, give it a quick squeeze, the touch letting him know I feel the same. Next on my to-do list, have another chat with him about us.
Harder than it sounds. Why is it relationship discussions tend toward the complicated? No wonder so many people end up at a relationship therapist. It’s easier to ignore the elephant in the room wearing a pink tutu until it squashes you flat and dances on your bones. Then it’s too late to say anything and you’re filled with pain and frustration.
“Is this what you do every day, Gin?” Will’s voice draws me out of my thoughts.
“Not every day. But, yeah, this is what I do as a Justitian. Hunt and kill demons and minions. Did it scare you?” A grin turns my lips.
A look of horror crosses Will’s face. “Of course not!” Yep, no man alive admits to being scared. “I woke up once it was over. Are all demons so powerful?”
“Most demons don’t invade your thoughts.” Smythe sets his pizza on his plate as he answers Will. “You usually fight them in the flesh, not in your imagination.”
Red tinges Will’s cheeks. “I didn’t do such a hot job of fighting it in my imagination.”
“No one does.” I look him in the eye. “He was the leader of the despair demons. The demon who killed your foster dad. He had eternity to practice killing people by invading their thoughts. By causing them to want to die. Don’t beat yourself up over not getting in a punch.”
Will nods. “Thank you for offing the one who killed Dad. Knowing you killed the demon is almost as good as killing it myself.”
I tilt my beer his direction. “Any time. Happy to help.”
Smythe pats my knee again, this time withdrawing his hand much too fast.
“We are glad you are joining us.” Eloise smiles in Will’s direction.
“Especially now.” Smythe shoves his chair back, grabs his plate, and refills it with pizza.
Will mimics him, talking as he waits for the microwave. “What’s with now?”
“We suspect a demon lives in the Agency.” I follow the guys to the pizza, T on my heels. Fighting Perdix worked up an appetite.
“The Agency is your boss, right?” Will sticks his plate in the microwave and sets the timer once Smythe pulls out his warm pizza.
“Yeah. It’s the corporation overseeing the Justitians and mages who fight the demons and minions.”
“The demon doesn’t just live at the Agency,” Eloise says, turning toward our voices. “I believe it wants to take over the Agency.”
Will pulls his plate out, walks back to the table. “I’m new to this, but even I can see where that would be bad. What are you going to do about it?”
Beep! The dinger alerts me to my nuked pizza, and I pull it out while answering Will. “Kill it. What else?”
“It’s more complicated than that.” Smythe shakes his head, giving me a “really?” look.
Why doesn’t he pop into my mind like usual? Maybe he’s giving me alone time to decide if I want him back. Yep, we definitely need to have a conversation. Later. After we plot and scheme how to kill the Agency’s live-in demon.
“We have to find the demon first,” Eloise says.
A thought flits through my mind at her words. “I know—” And then the thought vanishes, leaving everyone looking at me. But for a split second I knew who the Agency demon was. Until my mind stumbled over the knowledge. What was I thinking again?
“You know what?” Eloise asks.
“Nothing. Sorry. Go on.” I wave a hand as a dull headache throbs against my skull. What was I thinking about the Agency demon? How to kill it? Right. That must’ve been it. How to track and kill it. My headache fades into nothing as the conversation continues.
“Where do you fit in?” Will tilts his head at T.
“I see ghosts.” T glances at me for a second. “I’m a ghost talker. I can call them and make ghosts do what I want.”
His sense of pride brushes my mind through our telepathic link, while his voice remains a steady, stating-the-facts tone.
“It’s a rare ability.” Smythe gives T his see-through stare, the one guaran-damn-teed to see straight into a person’s mind, to read his soul. Could he fathom T’s secrets? Delve into my twin’s head like he did mine?
Learn the one secret we swore to keep until we died?
Probably.
Would I ever admit that secret to Smythe? Could I trust him enough to tell him?
Maybe. Probably.
But not today.
T shrugs, all no big deal, as if orchestrating ghosts was a daily occurrence.
A smile cracks Smythe’s lips, an indication he probed deep enough into T’s mind to learn my brother never called a ghost in his life. At least not in the way he did during the fight. Instead of calling T out, my mentor keeps the knowledge to himself.
“Okay,” Will says as he turns to Smythe. “You told me my parents were mages. Do you know anything else about them?”
“Were your parents, Frank and Rachel Wunderliech?” Eloise leans forward, brows furrowed.
“Yes. Did you know them?”
She leans back, a shit-eating grin I normally associate with demons written on her face. “I did. They helped me steal Gin’s justitia from the vault at the Agency. They promised to protect it.”
Will’s eyes widen. “Why would they do that?”
“Her justitia is powerful, more so than the others, for it can control the other justitias. In the right hands, or wrong as the case may be, Gin’s justitia has the ability to make the other justitias, and therefore the Justitians, do its bidding.”
According to what Eloise said earlier, she thought only demons can use my justitia to control the others. What if, unbeknownst to her, I have that power? What if there’s a way for me to control my sword sisters? Do I even want to possess that much power? But I have no time to puzzle it out, as Eloise continues talking.
“It’s an ability lost to the present. But the demons created these bracelets and it stands to reason they still remember the spell. If the justitia fell into demon hands, life as we know it would go to Hell. Literally. I learned a demon was in the Agency and took steps to ensure they would not get their hands on the justitia.” She touches Will’s arm. “I am sorry for your loss.”
He pulls away, eyes narrow, lips pursed. A second later his anger deflates. “They knew what would happen if they were caught, didn’t they?”
“They did. It was a risk they were willing to take.”
“Even if it meant leaving me alone?”
“I am sorry, Will.”
The rest of us remain silent, allowing Will to compose himself, to wipe away the tears threatening to spill.
Topic change time. “How do you propose we find the demon in the Agency?”
Eloise clears her throat. “Years ago, the last ghost talker said ghosts inhabited the Agency. I had hoped they continued to hang around.”
“We can go back tomorrow and I’ll have another look.” T glances to me for a split second, a silent plea to keep my mouth shut. Outside of a grin attempting to twist my lips, I do as he wants.
Eloise nods. “We’ll go tomorrow. Maybe our search will be successful and we’ll find one of the ghosts.”
My bet is on success. Seeing as there is definitely a ghost wanting to chat and a ghost talker now willing to listen.
“When you say years ago,” Will’s voice cracks and he clears it, “how many years do you mean?”
“Around the turn of the century.”
“That’s not too long ago.”
Smythe shakes his head. “She means the turn of the last century.”
Will’s eyes widen. His pizza plops onto his plate. “Last century? You mean around 1900?” At Eloise’s nod, his eyes narrow. “In other words, you don’t have a real plan.”
“It’s a real plan.
” Will raises a brow at my words. “It’s as good as any other one.”
“Seriously? This”—he waves a hand—“is how you track demons?”
“No.” Smythe shakes his head. “We are more methodical. This is a special situation. Eloise has known about it for awhile, but hasn’t always been able to trust others to help her find the demon.”
“It’s been years since I found mages to trust.” Her voice lowers. “Since your parents. They saw the same thing I did. Suspected the same thing I did. And were willing to help.”
“You just now trusted him?” Will points at Smythe.
Eloise flicks her gaze between the two mages as if she can see them. No surprise. She sees more than she admits. “I trusted Aidan, but needed to ascertain where his loyalties lay before I could ask for his help.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Smythe furrows his brow.
Eloise shrugs, her gaze focusing on my mentor. After a couple of tense, silent seconds, he nods.
Telepathy to the rescue. On the down side, the rest of us remain in the dark as to why Eloise didn’t trust Smythe. I assume I can wheedle it out of him later. But Will looks confused as hell.
“Did you answer him?” Will stares at Eloise.
She smiles, one side of her lips twisting upward. “You are very curious.”
“I am new to this and want straight answers.”
I hate to tell him, but straight answers around the Agency and its employees are a rarity.
“All in good time, Will. All in good time.”
Will shifts in his seat, eyes narrowing, his posture one of a man gathering his thoughts before exploding with anger.
Smythe interrupts the growing tension, pushing his plate out of the way and leaning forward on his elbows. “What do you want Gin and I to do? Our job here is complete. We can help.”
“Tomorrow? Nothing.” Relief weaves through Eloise’s tone. “Clearly you will be needed to take down the demon, but for tomorrow, you aren’t needed. I’ll take T and we’ll continue to look for a ghost. Hopefully the ghost will tell us who to target.”
Devil Take Me Page 18
