by RS Black
I wasn’t sure if it was possible to hate anyone or anything more than I did Dean in that moment.
But I smiled anyway. I’d come to a decision while deep in the dreaming. I was gonna blow some minds today. Totally throw them all off their game.
There was nothing left for me to lose. I’d lost it all already.
With a cheery little whistle, I winked at a soldier as I marched out of the room, making sure to wiggle my ass just a bit as I jaunted toward Dick’s office.
This whole place was gonna burn down to the ground someday. I just had to be patient and wait.
Good thing I had patience in spades... Kem would have been so proud of me right now.
~*~
“Pandora, good to see you amongst the living once again,” Dick said with a casual glance at my face. He sat behind his gleaming mahogany desk, scratching a pen across the surface of a sheet of paper before quickly slapping the manila envelope shut and reclining in his seat.
Fisting his fingers together, he placed them on his stomach and began twiddling his thumb, his demeanor as casual and down to business as usual.
Dean shut the door behind us.
And all I felt was cold.
Not numb.
Not indifferent.
Just cold.
Like I had that day in the Highlands.
I knew Sloth was no friend of mine. But had there been a reason for what he’d shown me? A purpose to it that hadn’t been random at all?
I frowned.
There was a storm brewing inside me, and it was a killing type of frost. It was patient, but deadly. Come hell or high water, I was taking Dick out with me. He’d never get his day of glory; he’d never live long enough to see it.
The thought made my smile grow even wider.
Which he instantly noticed.
Brows twitching, his lips matched my own. “Good to see you in good spirits. Perhaps all you needed was sleep to help you understand that what we do now, what we fight for, you fight for, is a worthy and honorable cause. You believe that, don’t you?”
I’d attended a Nazi party meeting once, way back in the day. Not because I’d sided with their insane worldviews, but mainly out of sheer curiosity and trying to understand just what in the hell could turn empathetic, caring people from one day to the next into the type of monsters who could throw another human being into a concentration camp and go home later that night and sleep like a baby afterward.
I was born in a world of darkness, born with a soul that was full of hate, and vice, and wickedness.
It was what had fascinated me most about humans. Because though they were born into a world full of anarchy and chaos, yet still, the majority of humans managed to retain some sense of morality. A shred of kindness. Even the most wicked could sometimes have the softest heart when it came to the feelings of a child or an animal.
In my world, it simply was not so. Demons were never good. Never kind. And always selfish. Wanting more and more and more of whatever happened to be the current flavor of the second, be it lusts of the flesh, or greed for wealth, the pride of power, or the envy for someone else’s stuff.
It was my study of mortals that helped me to understand that strength came not from oppression, but from discipline and honor, respect, and sometimes even love. All such foreign concepts to the monsters who lived around me.
It’d taken me so long to learn how to manage the demonic side of me, how not to let it take control of my every action, thought, and deed. And now, standing here in Dick’s office, I could feel him trying to strip me of that knowledge, trying all over again to turn me back into the evil I’d once been.
But how could you fight for something so dark and twisted if you didn’t believe in some small way that yours was the right side? It was clear to me that these words out of Dick’s mouth weren’t just for my benefit. He completely believed them himself. It didn’t matter that Armageddon would bring about the destruction of the entire human race. It didn’t matter to him that he’d probably not live to see it, because somehow, this all-too-human man had bought into the lie. Sitting before me was the most dangerous sort of animal there was: a zealot.
“Oh yes.” I nodded resolutely, wanting to grab him by the balls and yank them off when he beamed back at me like a proud parent.
For a second I pitied the poor old fool.
“I knew we’d make a believer of you yet.” He wagged his finger at me.
Dean, on the other hand, was giving me a look that could melt ice. Clearly, he wasn’t buying what I was selling.
“Well, doc.” I hopped onto the corner of his desk and crossed my naked legs. I slept in the nude here. And why not? They’d stripped me, beaten me, tried to shame me, and who the hell cared anymore? Not me. There was nothing else they could do to me. Nothing. Covered, naked, they owned me and they knew it. So if I was going to be living in Hell till the day I died I might as well make it as comfortable for myself as possible.
“Hit me up. Who am I taking out this time?” I rubbed my hands together.
With a shake of his head, he shoved the folder at me. Flipping it around, I opened it and gazed at a face more handsome than Michelangelo’s David. I traced the long length of cheekbones that could slice through paper they were so sharp. “Who is he?”
“Name is Abdul Kazmir. One of Iran’s most notorious gun smugglers, not to mention an ancient incubus with powers to rival your Lust.”
“Ah, of course. A face that lovely could never go to waste.” I scanned the rest of the intel before shutting the folder. “So I find him, get the next map, bring it back.” I snapped my fingers. “Got it.”
I hopped off the desk and made my way for the door.
“That’s it?” Dean snarled, causing me turn around with an insolent little smirk.
“I’m sorry, was there more? I’m assuming you’ll be standing sideline like you did last time, am I right? Which means I best hurry up before some other simpering doll gets there before me.”
I winked at Dean, who only snarled harder. His lips were pulled back and the flesh of his face was flashing from skin to bone. Man, I don’t think I’d ever seen him this angry.
This was actually kind of fun, being reckless and wanton and stupid.
Laughing, I gave a finger wave and headed to my room to look for something appropriately hoochie for such an important man as Abdul Kazmir.
The rat cornered me in the hall leading to my room a minute later.
“What the hell was that back there?” Dean jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
I tapped the back of my skull and grinned. “Why, I’m a good little solider now, Death. They fixed me. Or can’t you tell?”
It was fun to play with him, but I was also pissed. Actually, I was beyond pissed. I was an inferno of fury.
“This isn’t right, you’re not right. That was just a chip.” He waved a hand in front of us and I felt the air between us prickle with ozone. “I’ve shut off the microphone for a second, Pandora, you need to talk to me. They didn’t scramble you, I’d know, I’d—”
When he placed his hands on my arms and squeezed I pretty much lost my composure. I laughed, but the sound was wild and maniacal. Grabbing hold of his shirt, I reversed our positions so that I could slam him against the wall.
“You tell me to trust you and then you rat me out to the Triad like the good little bitch you are. You can take your concern and shove it down your throat. You want to hear some truth, Dean, then here’s mine. I hate you. I hate all of you. I’m gonna see this place burn and I’m gonna dance on their graves when it’s over.”
I wasn’t sure what type of reaction I expected out of him, but it certainly hadn’t been laughter. Deep, rich belly laughter. This wasn’t crazy sounding, or angry, or even wild; he was honestly amused.
“Fuck all, Dorrie, it’s good to see you.”
“Don’t call me Dorrie!” I raked his face with my claws. He never even flinched or tried to stop the flow of blood even as it slid into the c
orner of his mouth.
“For a second there I thought I’d lost you. And I’m only gonna tell you this once. Never not have a plan, Nephilim.”
“Stay out of my way. I may not be able to kill you, Dean, but you don’t want to screw with me. Not anymore. You got it.” I shook his fisted shirt in my hand.
His full bottom lip tilted into a half-smirk. “I’m not your enemy.”
I laughed even as my throat constricted with heat. Not my enemy. Right. I still couldn’t understand why he’d made me get the tracker, why he’d flipped his lid when I hadn’t come straight home, why he seemed so damned determined to figure out a plan I didn’t even really have. No, there was nothing about Dean I could trust anymore. He wasn’t my friend. He wasn’t my ally. Dean had his own game in motion and I was done pretending he mattered anymore.
“No, you’re a lackey. You’re nothing. And I have a mission to get ready for.”
“Be careful with Abdul. You give him an inch, he’ll eat you alive, demon girl.” His words dripped with heat and shivered with mirth.
“Which is why you send me off alone again. Tell me, Dean, did you spill the beans about this assignment too?”
“Not yet. But I will.” He brushed my hand off him.
Disgusted, I twisted on my heel, and headed back to my cell to get ready to collect the second map. I couldn’t stand to look at him another second and I had to get my head on straight. ’Cause Dean was right—Abdul wasn’t just any mark.
His insatiable thirst for sex combined with Lust’s forced starvation was a recipe for disaster.
Chapter 12
Dean
It took me no time to find Asher.
Even if I hadn’t been able to feel the call of his soul (thanks to him signing it over to me), I’d have known where the miserable sod would have been anyway.
He sat alone in a grassy field that danced and swayed to the violent rush of a South Dakota wind. The carnival where he’d first integrated himself into her life. Where he’d forsaken all that he was for a taste of her.
Love was a disease of the soul.
I walked over to him. “She’s not here, you know.”
Asher didn’t flinch or turn to look at me. His wings were banded tight around his body like a shield and he sat staring at the endless sea of grass with an empty-eyed gaze. “I know,” he finally said. “What do you want, Dean? I don’t recall calling for you.”
Chuckling, I took a seat beside him. “Yeah, as if I’d come.”
“You came the first time, or have you forgotten?”
“Wow.” I glanced at his profile. He’d not blinked in over a minute. “You look like shit since I saw you last. What the hell, man? I thought you were going to fight to your dying breath.”
Finally, that provoked him to look at me. And he did so, with wild disbelief. “I went to the Zombie Queen, asked her for her help in taking Pandora down. Everywhere I turn everyone keeps telling me she’s lost to me. Except for you.” He cocked his head. “And I have to wonder why. I can’t figure you out. You’re anathema.”
I shrugged. It was only the truth.
Leaning back I stared at the sky. It was beautiful tonight. The clouds had long, wispy tails, and the sky was a deep twilight.
“I had them insert a chip into Pandora’s brain.”
“You what!” The beast that lived inside him came suddenly to life, the wings that’d been banded around his body flaring open.
The Priest was a killing shadow. A truly glorious thing to behold; then again, I’d always been an admirer of all things lethal.
I nodded. “Never not have a plan. You see. I’m setting a course. A path for her, if you will. One with a very rigid set of rules.”
“To what end? Why would you do this to her?” The fire in his eyes blazed.
I do believe that if I’d been human the Priest would have skewered me through by now. He was going to make a most excellent addition to my fold.
“Because she must be tested. Thrown into the crucible. I need to know what she can endure. The worst of it. And it will get worse.”
“She may be a demon, but you’re the devil.” His words lacked heat. Asher was tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of hoping. Tired of believing. And that, I could not allow to happen.
“That may be, but I have a plan. And, my friend”—I nodded in his direction—“you play a big part in it.”
“So you say.” He sat back down, softly touching his fist to the earth beneath him. “Have you come to tell me where to find her?”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “Can I stop her?”
I snorted. “Of course not.”
“Then why send me at all?”
The fire in his eyes had been gutted. They were a dull brown now.
“I told you once, Priest, that the moment you failed to be of value I would call your lien. Do you want to save her?”
“The Queen says she is lost. Her family says she is lost. You tell me I can’t stop this.”
“You haven’t answered the question. Do you want to save her?”
“Yes!” He ripped a chunk of grass out, then dropped his hands to his lap, curling them with an impotence that belied the rage he barely held in check.
“With each soul she absorbs she becomes less and less Pandora. Your job is really a very simple one, Priest.” I stood to my feet, looking down at the top of his head. “Remind her who she is. If she shuts you out, then she is truly gone, and you’ve lost.”
“I have a sword that burns with fire. Shadows that kill for me. I can use my fists. I can make war. But I don’t know how to do this.” His voice cracked.
“You fought for her before, Priest. In a dank cage, in the dusty backroom of a roadside bar. That’s what she needs now.”
He shook his head and stared back out at the horizon.
You could lead a horse to water, but you couldn’t make them drink.
“Once there were thousands of ways, then hundreds; now there only a few paths left to take. Choose wisely, Asher, for once chosen, it cannot be unchosen. She will be at a rave in the Sahara Desert.” Reaching into my pocket, I withdrew the coordinates. “Make her remember what it is she’s fighting for.”
He took the sheet from me, stared at it briefly, and then said, “You don’t sound certain yourself, Death.”
I wasn’t.
But I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him that.
Chapter 13
Pandora
The music pumped loud through the arid desert landscape. The night was lush and pregnant with the scents of myrrh, sex, and sweat.
Bodies were pressed tight to one another. Men on women, men on men, women on women, no one caring, just dancing. Just snorting their coke, pumping their fists, jumping up and down as the rhythm of the techno music took them.
Almost everyone was down to scraps of fabric, wearing mostly just underwear and body paint that glowed neon under the strobing glare of black lights.
There were whites, Asians, blacks, Arabs. Every section of the world had made a showing at this rave that rivaled almost anything else I’d ever seen.
Because they weren’t dancing on sand. Black marble full of golden flecks gleamed beneath their feet. Torches surrounded the dance floor, spitting out not orange flame, but blue, green, purple, and red. Above them and suspended from absolutely nothing glowed silver orbs that turned and reflected like fairy light through the black sky.
Even the sky seemed to be have been dressed up for the party. A trillion stars blinked down at us, as if heaven itself smiled upon us.
In the center of this sexual feast was the DJ’s booth, raised up on a pedestal of volcanic stone that glowed with ropes of lava between fissures in the rock. A black woman with dreads that hung well past her ass, and wearing a snake bicep band, scratched.
She was stunningly beautiful, her blue eyes hypnotic, and I knew in an instant she wasn’t human. More likely, she was Abdul’s bodyguard.
Oh yes, sex demons, definitely t
he make-love-not-war types.
I needed to figure out what she was first and whether she’d be a problem for me. If she was LCD it could be an issue. I was stronger now, but those bastards weren’t easy to take down.
Off to the left was a roped-off section. I traced the knot of my trench coat as I studied the VIP section.
In a moment I spotted my mark. A dark-skinned Arab man with warm chocolate eyes, thick black eyebrows, a groomed black beard, and brilliant white teeth. In short, he was gorgeous.
As all sex demons were.
He sat in the center of a large pile of overstuffed pillows. Surrounding him were a bevy of nude men and women, some dancing on him, some dancing on each other.
A thin boy, maybe seventeen—eighteen years max—walked past with a tray full of glowing jello shots.
No doubt laced with roofies and all sorts of other chemical concoctions to make the unwary lose their inhibitions.
We might be in the middle of a Saharan desert, but Abdul fed well and often. No doubt this was one party that never ended.
“Boy”—I crooked my finger—“give me ten of those.”
Kohl-rimmed eyes widened and he looked at me with a mixture of awe and desire. If I was going to succeed without this ending in a bloodbath for all involved, I needed to make this look as real as possible.
It’d been a long time since I’d used only Lust, but tonight, only her wiles would do.
I slid one shot down after another. I couldn’t get drunk, nor could I get high. But no one here knew that. I’d tamped down my power levels until they were nonexistent. To the monsters around me I was merely a beautiful woman and nothing more.
I’d changed my appearance tonight too.
If Asher and the goon squad showed up, which I had no doubt they would, I didn’t want them recognizing me.
Tonight, I was short, with velvety brown eyes and jet-black hair that hung heavy and straight down to my elbows, and very, very Asian.
Smiling at the boy, I undid the knot of my belt and let it slide to the sand. The moment the jacket fell, the wings I’d worn extended outward. They were snow white and looked as full and real as any Angel’s would have. A gift from Dean, who’d said that Abdul preferred them short, almond-eyed, and angelic with a sinner’s streak.
