Through a Crimson Veil

by Patti O'Shea

  They stared at each other: she, with surprised delight, and he, with barely suppressed fury. She knew when she won, when he stopped lying to himself about their attraction, but she also knew it wouldn’t make anything easier.

  “Why are you following me?” he asked. His hand left her throat and he took hold of her shoulders.

  “Ooh, changing the subject. Good way to avoid—”

  He cut her off with a surprisingly gentle shake. “Why are you following me?” he repeated.

  It was time to stop messing around. She wasn’t normally flighty like this, captive to her body’s demands, but no one witnessing her behavior tonight would ever guess. Mika forced herself to become serious, to stop being ruled by desire.

  “I want to hire you.” There. See? She could do it. This was the plan.

  His voice was cold. “I kill things like you,” he said.

  But his face showed so much desire that Mika nearly laughed once more. She restrained herself to a mere twitch of her lips. “I know you do. That’s why I’m here.”

  His expression changed as he regained control. “Start talking,” he said.

  “You know what I am, right? What species? You know how…dangerous my kind is, how malicious, compared to others?” She waited. A long time.

  “Not very,” he admitted grudgingly.

  She’d been pretty certain he was aware of the differences between types of demon. Even if he’d never studied anything or had exposure outside of his life, here in Crimson City, he still should be able to recognize such things; she’d simply wanted to make sure. But it probably hurt him to admit that not every demon from Orcus was pure evil.

  “Then you’ll understand why I need you,” she went on. She took a breath. She had to get this right, had to get him to buy her next lie or she was sunk. “I have a Kiverian after me.”

  Kiverians weren’t the darkest of demons, the most powerful or bloodthirsty, but they could be close, and one of her kind wouldn’t stand much of a chance against one of them. He’d know that. But that wasn’t why she’d chosen that specific type.

  “Why? You demons rarely hurt each other without cause,” he said.

  “Rarely isn’t never, and this particular Kiverian believes he has a reason. He hates mortals and thinks my human parent makes me an abomination. He wants me dead.”

  McCabe stared at her. Hard. Finally, when she’d about given up hope, he released her from whatever magic kept her frozen. He didn’t let go of her arms, but Mika suspected that had less to do with protecting himself than with his desire to touch her. And she was aware he’d never confess that, not even on pain of death. She almost pointed it out, merely to see his reaction, then thought better of it. If she couldn’t keep a tighter rein on her impulsiveness, she was going to mess up this assignment before it really began.

  “You expect me to believe that he took one look at you and decided you had to die?”

  Well, she’d hoped, but…“I might have said a few things that irked him. Unintentionally, of course.”

  “You taunted a Kiverian until he became fixated on you.” McCabe shook his head, but he didn’t look surprised.

  “He was insulting my mother. I couldn’t ignore that.”

  Something Mika labeled as understanding flitted across McCabe’s face. “How did you cross paths with one of those monsters, anyway?”

  Interesting that he chose that word: monsters. “Bad luck and bad timing,” she replied.

  “You’re lying.” He stepped back from her, his face as flat and emotionless as his voice had been.

  Mika hated those damn sunglasses; she needed to see his eyes. “Why would I lie? And why would I seek you out if I didn’t need help? I’m not stupid. I understood it would be a risk to approach you, that you might shoot first and ask questions later, so to speak—and that’s almost exactly what you did.”

  He grunted and crossed his arms. “I’m supposed to believe a Kiverian is after you because of your smart mouth? That’s too convenient,” he said.

  “There’s nothing convenient about this situation,” she snapped. Though he’d released her, she didn’t move. She didn’t want to do anything he might construe as preceding an act of aggression. “It’s disrupted my life for far too long, and I can’t go home to Orcus until he’s taken care of.”

  “And you just happened to come to me. That’s the part that’s too pat.”

  “Perhaps I opted to come to you because of the type of demon after me. Have you considered that? You’re not the only slayer out there, you know, and it would have been less risky for me to go to one of the others.”

  “Maybe, but I’m the best,” he said. There was no arrogance in his voice; he merely stated a fact.

  She wasn’t able to smother her smile. “I know you are,” she agreed.

  “That’s why this could be a setup. I’m too good.”

  “Oh, please,” she scoffed. “If this were some setup to kill you, you’d already be dead. You haven’t paid attention to anything but me since you leaped out of that alley.”

  And she hadn’t been aware of anything except him either. Idiotic, considering that she already knew there were other dangerous things out tonight. There always were in Crimson City. And there were any number of beings who wouldn’t mind both her and McCabe permanently out of the picture.

  McCabe scowled, the first strong reaction she’d had from him since he’d locked down his desire. “Why were you following me?” he asked again.

  “Instead of showing up on your doorstep? I did, but you were leaving as I arrived, so I followed. When it became clear what you were up to, I decided to see if you’re as skilled as your reputation. An audition, if you will.”

  His frown became fiercer; he hadn’t liked that. Amusement welled up in her again and Mika struggled to keep it under control. There was nothing quite like the male ego, no matter in which species of animal. When her laugh escaped despite her efforts, she received a heated glare. Then McCabe shook his head and reluctantly smiled. It transformed his face, made him look younger and much more approachable.

  “You’re a pain in the ass,” he said. “And I’d be insane to help you out if I’d have to put up with this shit.”

  “Maybe,” she conceded soberly, “but could you live with yourself if you turned me down and I ended up dead? I’m half human and my demon blood comes from a weak branch. You know as well as I do how powerful Kiverians are. Even if I hired another slayer, he could die with me. You’re my best hope of survival.”

  He sighed, looked away for a moment, then drilled her again with his gaze. Or at least she suspected he did. She was becoming damned sick of those sunglasses, and if she succeeded in nothing else tonight, she was getting them off his face.

  Mika crossed her arms over her chest, mimicking his stance, and waited. It was make-or-break time for her mission.

  “So…you want me to kill this demon for you,” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I want a bit more than that. I’ll need around-the-clock protection too.” Before she could explain, something strummed at her senses. She lost her relaxed pose and turned her head, trying to discern what it was that had intruded.

  McCabe stiffened too, and in an action that she found very telling, he moved in front of her. The position was purely protective; it was instinct, not thought, guiding him.

  “What did you pick up?” he asked, his voice lower than a whisper.

  “I’m not sure.” She was just as quiet. “I only caught a wisp, but whatever or whoever it is, he doesn’t like us.”

  “Your would-be killer?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  McCabe looked over his shoulder at her, and she read deep skepticism on his face. He thought this whole thing was a ruse, that she was putting on an act to convince him she was in danger. Then she felt it again. So did McCabe. He focused his attention in the same direction as she’d sensed the presence. Mika moved from behind his back to his side. She hadn’t picked up any intent to harm them,
only curiosity and dislike. But not of the intensity that led to violence.

  “He’s cloaking—has to be a demon,” McCabe said. He didn’t look at her.

  “Only if he’s very young, a demon who doesn’t have practice holding the mask in place. It’s wavering. You know, others with psychic abilities can pull the invisible act, too,” she reminded McCabe.

  “But it’s not as natural for them.”

  “Which could be why he’s unable to hold it steady,” she argued. It required great skill and a lot of energy to hide from a demon—much more than it took to cloak from a human, vampire or werewolf. Few who weren’t demons themselves had the ability to do it.

  “We need to get out of the light,” McCabe grunted, and Mika figured the change in subject meant he had no good argument.

  She said, “I don’t think we’re in danger—at least, not right now.”

  “And what are you basing that theory on?”

  “I don’t sense any hostility, just distaste.”

  Conor muttered under his breath, but Mika ignored it. When he spoke again, she could tell it took a great deal of self-control for him to keep his tone even. “Threat or no threat, we are getting out of this pool of light. Understand me?”

  “Yes, I understand, but where are we going? That alley’s dark, but it’s a dead end. That’s a disadvantage.”

  “It’s a bigger disadvantage to stand here, making ideal targets.” He looked around. “Okay…to our right, there’s a Dumpster about a block away. We can get behind it.”

  Mika glanced down the street. “That’s a long block. Easy to take us out before we reach it,” she said. She waited for his reaction.

  “I thought you said there wasn’t any risk. So, which is it—are we safe, or are we going to be picked off?”

  She grinned. “Just because I said I didn’t sense anything ready to attack us, that doesn’t mean we can expect to be safe.”

  “Which is why I said we need to get out of the light.”

  “But—”

  He cut her off. “Do you have to argue with me about everything?”

  “I’m pointing out things that need to be considered,” she explained happily. She still didn’t have any sense that their watcher was going to attack.

  Conor shifted, putting his shoulder in front of her. He was trying to shield her again. “Is this how you’d be if I took on the job of protecting you? Shit, we’d both be dead before we finished our first fight.”

  “You want unthinking obedience?” she asked.

  “Damn straight. Now when I say go, you run to the right—are we clear?” he growled.

  “I say we prepare to attack,” she argued. She threw that out there deliberately. Not to jab Conor but to test their watcher, who had just moved closer. Her plan worked: The words barely cleared her mouth when whoever it was started making tracks away from their position. He was still cloaking himself, enough so she was unable to identify who or what he was, but Mika knew the instant he was gone.

  Almost as soon as she relaxed, McCabe turned and herded her against the side of the building. He was furious and trying to use his size to intimidate her, but unfortunately for him, not only wasn’t she cowed, but she liked his nearness. His hard body pressed her shoulders into the ragged brick, but his hands cupped her butt and pulled her flush against him. “You don’t have to worry about the Kiverian that’s after you. I’m going to fucking kill you myself,” he snarled.

  Mika wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a seductive smile before she realized what she was doing. “Yeah? I hate to tell you this, but if you’re trying to wring my neck, it’s farther north.”

  His hands immediately stopped kneading her rear, and Mika pulled free. She ignored his cursing and walked a few steps away. McCabe grabbed her, tugged her back, and put her in a bear hug. It was supposed to be a method of restraint, but the feel of him against her bottom made Mika wriggle. His hold tightened, forcing her to still, but not before she felt his body begin to react to hers. She turned and ran her hands up his chest.

  “Are you trying to convince me to protect you by offering me your body?” he asked.

  It was meant to be an insult, there was no doubt about that, but she wasn’t prostituting herself and Conor knew it. He’d said that to make her mad; he wanted her to storm off in a snit, then he wouldn’t have to deal with her. Too bad for him that she knew what he was up to, and Mika refused to let him push her buttons.

  “No, but I might offer you my body for other reasons,” she answered easily.

  Turning her head, she snuggled into his shoulder and nipped at the pulse point in his throat, then ran her tongue over it. She couldn’t have chosen a worse action if she’d planned it—not if her goal was to stay close to Conor Mc-Cabe. He released her so fast, Mika staggered to catch her balance.

  Damn it, why did she have this need to always push? She knew he didn’t want to want her, that if she had any hope of him agreeing to her scheme, she had to do everything she could to play down the overwhelming physical attraction flaring between them. But was that what she’d done? Hell, no. She’d maximized his awareness of her. How stupid.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, and tried to sound contrite. “Let’s start over, shall we?” He pivoted to face her, and she could sense his reluctance. Be businesslike, she told herself. “Conor McCabe, I’m Mika Noguchi.” She took a few steps toward him, arm outstretched. For a moment, she didn’t think he was going to take her hand, but he surprised her. The shake, however, was perfunctory. “I’d like to hire you to protect me, and to slay the demon that’s trying to kill me,” she said.

  He tucked his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “I don’t work cheap,” he warned her.

  She knew she had him then. McCabe might not realize it yet, but they were now negotiating price. Mika managed to keep her satisfaction in check. “That’s okay. I don’t value my life cheaply.” With a shrug she added, “And I can afford you.”

  “Can you afford this?” He named a price that made her eyes bug out. “That’s per day,” Conor added.

  “That’s outrageous!”

  “So? Usually I only kill demons. You’re going to have to pay for my time if you want around-the-clock baby-sitting.”

  Mika reined in her temper. She made a counterproposal, offering a fraction of what he’d suggested.

  “Is that a joke?” He shook his head. “Never mind. I don’t know why we’re discussing money anyway. I don’t want the work.” He started to walk away.

  “You thought if you threw out that ridiculous figure that I’d tell you to forget it? Well, think again, McCabe.” She closed the distance until she was toe-to-toe with him. “I want you.” When he tensed, she realized her wording. “I mean, I want your skills as a hunter,” she amended.

  He didn’t respond.

  “Would you really trust my life to someone else?” she asked.

  “What do I care about your life? You’re a demon.”

  “Half demon,” she corrected. “And half human.” The flash of anger she felt seeped away and humor returned as she realized he was grumbling more for appearances sake than for any other reason. She upped her offer.

  He countered, tacitly admitting he was taking the job. They went back and forth until they agreed to a figure that was about midway between their opening proposals. It wasn’t that the cost was important—her dad had plenty of money and was extravagantly generous—but if she didn’t dicker over such an exorbitant amount, he’d become even more suspicious.

  Their next argument was over what, precisely, his job would entail. She couldn’t give in on this; he had to put her up in his home. Mika needed access to his things in order to find and retrieve the incantation the Council believed he had. That was the plan.

  Reaching an accord was easier than she expected, once she agreed to obey his orders without discussion. Unless what she had to say was critical; she tacked that on.

  “Deal.” McCabe held out a hand.

  �
�Take off your glasses,” she ordered.

  “Why?”

  “Two rules. First, when I make an agreement, I always know exactly what I’m giving and what I’m getting in exchange. We took care of that. Second, I never seal a bargain if I can’t see the eyes. My mother told me if I followed both these principles, I’d never be rooked when dealing with a demon. And, Conor? You have as much demon blood as I do. I’ll see your eyes before I shake.”

  Reluctantly, he pulled the sunglasses off his face. His irises were the color of celery, a pale green shade that wasn’t human.

  Demon eyes.

  Chapter Two

  McCabe’s palm was warm and calloused, his grip firm but not overpowering. The handshake lingered, giving them both a chance to measure the sincerity of the other. In Mika’s experience, those with demon blood would die before going back on their word, but not only would they use any shade of gray to their advantage, they’d also try to fool any other party into thinking they were making a promise when they really weren’t. That was why eye contact with McCabe was so important. What she saw reassured her, and she felt confident the bargain was sealed.

  It was only then that Mika dared to peer deeper. Her knees buckled, but she quickly locked them. He was her vishtau mate. She actually had a mate. Part of her was scared; it was a momentous discovery, a life-altering event. But another part of her wanted to throw her head back and laugh in sheer joy over their connection. It was one thing to suspect, to hope, but something else entirely to be certain.

  When he tried to pull his hand free, she tightened her grip before reluctantly releasing him. For a few seconds after they broke the connection, they continued to stare at each other, then McCabe tucked his sunglasses into the pocket on his T-shirt and said, “Let’s get out of here.”

  “You’re not putting those back on?” she asked.

  “And sacrifice my superior night vision while protecting you from a Kiverian? Not a chance.” He took her elbow and steered her down the sidewalk.