by C. S. Wilde
Jal closed the door behind him and opened the box. He picked a cigar from inside, then dropped on the chair, propping his black leather boots on the table.
Here, with cold light shining over his features, he looked remarkably handsome, almost angelic. His black shirt clung to his muscled frame, much like Liam’s, and his ebony hair curtained the left side of his face in a graceful wave. Ava felt envious of such silky hair, wishing her tresses had the same shine.
Was it a sin to envy a demon?
Music still thumped outside, but at least now they could talk in relative quiet.
Jal raised his index finger. It caught fire briefly, enough for him to light his cigar. He inhaled and then puffed a circle in the air, his attention never leaving Ava.
“I love it when angels need a favor. It’s not often that you do, of course. Angels aren’t as stupid as the humans I make deals with.” He smiled mischievously. “Perhaps you’ll prove me wrong, pretty angel.”
“Your deal is with me,” Liam snapped.
Ava’s hands closed into fists, her nails biting into her palms. Higher demons made deals with humans in exchange for their souls. So when the human died, they were stripped of the choice, and their fate could only be determined by the demon who damned them in the first place.
“You should be ashamed.” The words sounded stupid as they left her lips. After all, a demon could feel no shame.
Jal inhaled deeply, then exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Unlike most demons, my terms are clear in my contracts. The humans know what they’re getting into, and they accept that. Wasn’t it your Gods who granted them free will?”
“Why, you can’t possibly—”
“We need answers about my partner’s murder,” Liam cut in, his face a marbled mask.
Jal motioned to Liam’s head with a pleased grin on his face. “Oh, I like what’s going on in there. You have revenge written all over you, Selfless. It adds flavor to your essence.” He inhaled before puffing another ring of smoke in the air.
“What can you tell us about Archie’s murderer?” Liam pushed.
Jal angled his head, locking his attention on Ava. “Your boy here wants to kill whoever murdered his partner. Are you okay with that, Guardian?”
Ava knew Liam sought revenge, but she would help her charge make the right decision. They would bring the murderer in for questioning, if they found him. Let the Throne and the Virtues handle their judgement.
“Liam will come around,” she said, barely believing her own words.
Jal snorted, then took a lengthy inhale. He puffed it toward Liam in a stream of smoke. Her partner didn’t wince or move, simply stared down at the demon as smoke brushed past his face.
A deep laugh rumbled in Jal’s chest, and for a moment, Ava wondered if there was a dragon underneath his skin. “I can tell you something about his murder,” he said, “but nothing in life comes for free.”
“Name the price,” Liam said.
The demon peered at him, his sinuous eyes assessing Liam thoroughly. “Archibald made many enemies on my side. What was it that we called you? Ah, yes, the Fury Boys. Funny that he’s one of us now.” He shrugged. “Some demons would love to get their hands on the famous Archibald Theodore Brennan, you know.”
“Then they have a death wish,” Liam countered, his tone cold, hiding the fury that raged beneath. “Archie can take any demon with his eyes closed.”
“Lower demons perhaps,” Jal said with an enigmatic grin, almost as if he had won a veiled battle. He raised his hands in surrender. “My point is, information about your partner is valuable. I’m only agreeing to help because Archibald was kind to the children of the night.” He nodded toward the club beyond the closed door. “And since he was kind to them, I’ll return the favor.”
Ava frowned. “You stand with the In-Betweens?”
Jal inhaled and puffed smoke through his nose. “I don’t play nice with other demons. Unless we’re playing cards, that is. Their money is as good as any, and the suckers love to lose.”
She remembered Liam’s theory. “Someone is tampering with wolfsugar and stealing blood from vampires. This smells a lot like demon work to me.”
Jal glared at her, his nostrils flared. “I’d never—” He stopped and took a deep breath. “If I wanted them dead, I wouldn’t be trying to keep as many of them fed and under control, would I?”
So it was true. Someone was forcing the In-Betweens to attack humans, bringing the wrath of the Order upon Jal’s “children of the night.”
“Who’s behind this?” Ava asked.
Jal gritted his teeth. “If I knew, they wouldn’t still be alive.”
“Did it have anything to do with Archie’s death?” Liam’s tone was hollow, empty. Hurt.
“Maybe.” The demon considered this for a second or two. “Probably.”
Liam grunted in frustration, rubbing his forehead. “Name your price, demon.”
Jal tapped his fingers on his chin. “I lost a bet with one of the werewolf lords. Well, the werewolf lord.”
“No fucking way.” Liam crossed his arms, muscles bulging underneath the fabric of his shirt. “Ask for anything else.”
Jal gave them an amused grin. “I don’t need anything else. I need the necklace of Achmelladin.” He took a phone out of his pocket, tapped the screen a few times, and then showed it to them. The screen displayed a golden necklace with an emerald the size of a fist. “It amplifies a psychic’s powers.”
Liam whistled. “That must’ve been a really bad bet.”
Jal inhaled and then puffed another breath of smoke. “Neutrality has its costs.” He placed the phone on the table.
“A demon who is neutral?” Ava asked with a snort. “Who cares for the In-Betweens? That’s rare.”
“Not rarer than an angel doing the same.” At this he glared at Liam, as if sending him a hidden message. Jal then returned his attention to Ava, assessing her from top to bottom. “Hmm, beautiful.”
Liam stepped in front of her, a growl rumbling deep in his throat, a sound remarkably similar to Jal’s draconian grunts.
“Bring me the necklace,” Jal said with amusement. “And I’ll tell you what I know about Archibald’s murder.”
“Not yet.” Liam raised his index finger. “We’re supposed to steal from Lothar, the strongest werewolf to date. Throw in a personal favor in the bundle, and we’ll have a deal.”
Ava wanted to ask Liam if he believed negotiating was wise, but it seemed he and Jal were trapped in an invisible battle.
“I’m not a fan of bargaining,” Jal spoke through tight lips.
“Lothar is a type five In-Between,” Liam said. “That’s almost like fighting a fucking Archangel. Stealing from him is worth more than one simple answer.”
“Oh, your father taught you well.” Jal licked his lips. “Fine. You get information about Archibald’s murder, and a favor from me.”
Ava couldn’t be certain if relying on a demon’s favor was wise, but Liam looked pleased with the deal.
“Where can we find this Lothar?” she asked.
“Your partner will know.” Jal nodded to Liam and stood, stretching his free hand to him. “Lothar isn’t keen on security, since no one is stupid enough to try to murder him. Or steal from him, that is.”
“We’ll get the necklace.” Liam shook the demon’s hand, and a soft shadow ventured through their veins. The deal was sealed.
Liam and Ava left the club, rushing out of the Chinese restaurant. As soon as they stepped on the cold street outside, Ava stated the obvious. “This was a bad idea.”
“Of course it was.” Liam took his phone from his pocket and punched in a number. “Kev, I need you to fake an inspection letter. Also, get the guns ready.”
12
Ava
Once they arrived at the precinct, Kevin handed Liam two holy guns strapped to a crossed belt. Her partner fixed the weapons around his own trunk, and when he was done, Ava could barely see the guns underneath Liam’s lea
ther jacket. There was also Michael’s sword and a sun dagger hanging from the belt around Liam’s waist. When Ava thought there was no space left in his body for more weapons, she spotted Liam hiding knives in his boots.
“Got you something too, angel girl,” Kevin told Ava before handing her a sun dagger. “It’s not much, but Liam would kill me if I gave you a gun.” He waved his hand dismissively. “In any case, I doubt holy blasts can inflict much damage on a type five like Lothar.”
Ava shuddered as she looked down at her belt where her sun dagger and Ezra’s sword were sheathed. The In-Betweens usually kept to themselves, which was why Ava had never faced one. A werewolf lord at that, with claws that could rip her to shreds and teeth so sharp they could bite her arm off ... Even with Liam by her side, she might be walking to her death.
The fact that her partner carried enough weaponry to free a small country didn’t help ease her fears.
She followed Liam across busy streets packed with people and cars stuck in traffic jams. A symphony of angry horns erupted non-stop, but soon rush hour would be over, and then the city would be quieter, though never completely silent.
“Werewolves don’t like sharing, but hopefully we won’t have to use all of these.” Liam tapped the guns hidden under his jacket.
“Hopefully,” she said, failing to mask the fear in her tone.
“Don’t worry.” He retorted without glancing back at her, an intense frown creasing his forehead. “I can be compelling if I want to.”
She observed him. “You’re thinking of all the ways this could go wrong, aren’t you?”
“Why princess, how do you already know me so well?” He gave her a charming wink.
Before she shot him a snarky reply, Ava spotted an old man across the street. He had a trimmed beard the color of snow and shoulder length white hair, which made a beautiful contrast against his ebony skin. His piercing, clear blue eyes narrowed at her. Wise eyes, clever eyes, something ancient hidden within them. But it was his clothes that rang an alarm in her head.
He wore a gray t-shirt with the Rolling Stones logo—Justine had introduced the group to Ava in the past. The man’s worn jeans were fashionably ripped at the knees, and his sneakers were as red as strawberries. Ava expected a young human to dress this way, but an older gentleman?
This is prejudice, she told herself. He may dress as he so wishes.
As if he’d heard her thoughts, the man smiled and tilted his head at her in either thanks or a silent greeting.
Ava squinted at him, wondering if they’d met somewhere, but she remembered all her charges and she had never seen this man before. Just as she was about to approach him, a speeding car cut through the space between them. When it passed, the man had vanished.
“Are you okay?” Liam placed a hand on her shoulder. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Perhaps I have,” she mumbled, then looked up at him to meet those blazing green eyes focused on hers.
The pull from before came stronger than ever, a need Ava tried hard to control. Liam clenched his jaw and his nostrils flared, as if he were fighting the same battle.
“We’re here.” He let her go and stepped back.
They had stopped before the entrance of a fancy apartment building with glass doors. A doorman dressed in a bland beige uniform promptly let them in.
Jal wasn’t joking when he said Lothar didn’t worry about security.
They walked across the glass-paneled hallway until they reached the elevator. Liam pressed the button to call it down and waited.
“Most supernatural creatures hate bureaucracy, like everyone else, so that’s our trump card.” He pulled the fake inspection letter Kevin had prepared for them from his pocket. “Still, things might get ugly. Maybe it’s best if you wait here.”
Ava considered his offer. The path she followed became increasingly dangerous, and she wasn’t a Warrior, no matter how hard Liam trained her. In fact, Ava despised violence. But she would not fear, and she would not cower. Her charge needed her, and she never abandoned her charges. Never had and never would.
“Stop treating me like a porcelain doll,” she said under her breath.
He blinked at her. “I’m not. It’s just—”
“I’m not strong enough?” This might be true, but Ava slammed both hands on her waist, silently daring him to say it. “I can guarantee you that I’m—”
He took her hands and pulled her closer to him. “It’s not that, Ava. Look, a type five werewolf isn’t a harmless puppy.”
Ava’s lips parted as she realized his request hadn’t been for her. It’d been for him. Liam didn’t want to see her hurt.
She cupped his right cheek. “Wherever you’re going, I’m following. You’re my charge.”
He winced at that. “Guess you found your own version of ‘princess,’ haven’t you?”
“Yes, I have.” She grinned victoriously.
The elevator door opened, and they got in. Liam pressed the button for the thirtieth floor.
“By the way, the name’s partner, not charge,” he said as they went up.
She looked pointedly at the shifting floor numbers. “And the name’s Ava, not princess.”
“Of course.” He put a hand to his heart. “My apologies, princess.”
Heat burst inside Ava’s head. “Oh, you annoying man!” She quickly stamped her hands over her mouth. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to insult you.”
Liam let out a busty laugh. “Of course you did.” He pulled her hands down, stepping closer to her. “You should let this side of you out more often.”
“What side?” she whispered, her attention lost in his stare.
He brushed her jawline with his thumb. “The human one.” His tone was low but soft, and it made Ava want to pin him against the wall.
As if on cue, the elevator clicked open to the thirtieth floor, showing a red-carpeted path. They stepped out, walked to number sixty-three, and knocked three times. Liam took the paper from his pocket and slammed it against the peephole.
A rough voice that could either be a man speaking or a dog growling came from inside. “I can smell you, Liam. You have no business here.”
“Haven’t you seen the inspection notice?” Liam countered. “It’s been approved by a Virtue.”
“Which Virtue?”
“Does it matter?”
The werewolf snarled behind the door.
Liam rolled his eyes and read the name on the paper. “Virtue Suphiel Eriksson.”
Suphiel was a powerful Virtue, and coincidentally, Justine’s immediate superior.
Ava knew then that Kevin must’ve asked Justine for help with faking the notice—perhaps it hadn’t been faked at all. Justine had her way with the Order’s males, even her supervisor. Without meaning to, Ava’s thoughts went to Ezra.
“Never heard of this Suphiel,” the werewolf said from behind the door, and then all was silent for a moment. “But I guess I have little choice in the matter.”
The door opened, revealing a bare chested man in jeans. He was much bigger and stronger than Liam, which was to say worlds. Liam towered over Ava, who at five-foot-seven wasn’t as petite as most women. Lothar might as well be a small giant.
The werewolf’s muscles, bulged and swollen, felt misplaced against the creature’s human form. His arms alone were two times thicker than Liam’s.
Ava felt like a squirrel facing a lion.
Lothar grabbed the paper. “This is foolish,” he said after reading it. “I’m not storing illegal wolfsugar.”
Liam shrugged. “Heard you ate one of your pack leaders a few days ago.” He let himself in, and Ava followed. “I’ve seen the remains. They looked like the work of an angry werewolf in a drug haze.”
“He challenged me,” Lothar said with gritted teeth. “I did it on my own, no wolfsugar needed.” This he added with a proud and ferocious grin.
Fear crept up Ava’s spine, but Liam kept his nonchalant manner. “Then you won’t mind if
we look around, right?”
“You disrespect my home and my word.” Lothar bared his teeth, and his eyes glowed a sharp red. “Angels are no better than the demons who cursed us into monsters. You all want to see us burn.”
Liam gave him a bored look. “Someone’s been taking drama lessons.”
Ava let Liam and the wolf man argue as she walked around the apartment. When she cast a quick glance inside Lothar’s bedroom, there it was⸺the necklace, hanging before a mirror. The green emerald flashed dimly against sunlight.
Heavens, Lothar really did not care for security.
Ava sent Liam a glance, and he nodded. Message received.
Lothar must’ve caught a part of that message, because he growled at Ava. “Nothing there for you to see, Selfless.”
At least she had masked her essence well, not that it made much difference. If Lothar turned into a werewolf, he’d take her as dinner either way.
Liam waved the notice in front of the werewolf’s nose. “The inspection encompasses the entire apartment, my lord.”
Lothar’s bark promised Liam a world of pain. Unfazed, her partner tapped the werewolf’s back and turned him toward the kitchen. “Now, why don’t you show me your kitchen cabinets?”
Oh, Liam was good, but Ava had to be careful now. Werewolves were known for their sharp hearing.
She increased the wrap around her essence as she walked into the room, each step nearly mute. Ava had masked her essence so well that Lothar wouldn’t be able to see her.
She grabbed the necklace slowly, softly. A single chatter of the golden chains would alert the beast, but Ava kept her hands firm.
She placed the necklace quietly in her jacket pocket and stepped out of the room. When Ava dared a glance forward to the kitchen, she locked eyes with Lothar, who snarled at her.
“Hide your essence all you want, bitch. I can still smell you,” he growled.
Before Liam could react, Lothar grabbed the crossed belt around her partner’s chest and kicked Liam toward the closed door, ripping the belt in two and separating him from his holy guns. Wood snapped as Liam broke through the door and flew into the corridor.
