Green-Eyed Demon (Sabina Kane #3)

by Jaye Wells

  When we opened the door to the attic apartment, we found Giguhl and Brooks sitting on the couch together. Brooks was back in his male gear—jeans, T-shirt, et cetera. Giguhl sat with his arms crossed over bulging biceps. He still wore the sweatpants he had on earlier that evening when we…

  Oh shit.

  We’d totally forgotten Giguhl when we left. I took a step forward, ready to apologize. But Brooks held up a hand and shushed me. He patted Giguhl on the arm. “Sabina. Adam. Giguhl has something he’d like to say to you.”

  Giguhl’s determined expression faltered. “I don’t think—”

  Brooks nudged him. “Go on. Tell her what you told me.”

  I shot a look at Adam. He shrugged and rolled his eyes.

  Giguhl took a deep, bracing breath and rose from the couch. “Guys, I—” he shot a look at Brooks, who nodded encouragingly. The demon seemed to inflate a little and continued. “I felt disappointed when you left this evening without telling me. It hurt my feelings that you didn’t consider me in your plans.”

  I felt bad about forgetting him and all, but an emotional intervention wasn’t on my list of things I wanted to deal with. I set down my bag of blood with a martyred sigh.

  Giguhl tossed his claws in the air. “Don’t sigh at me! I’ve been worried sick, and your continued lack of consideration is unacceptable.”

  I dropped down on the couch. “Giguhl, what do you want from us? There are some places you can’t go in either demon or cat form.” It was a lame excuse. I’d smuggled him into lots of places, but I didn’t know what else to say. The truth was I had been so wrapped up in my own drama that I’d totally forgotten about him. But admitting that would hurt his feelings even more.

  “We’ve always figured out ways for me to come along before,” he challenged. His eyes shifted back and forth between Adam and me. “I thought we were a team.”

  From the corner of my eye I saw Adam cringe. I couldn’t meet the demon’s accusing gaze, either. When we’d decided to find Maisie, we’d all agreed it would be as a team. But the whole concept of thinking about someone else’s feelings went against my natural instincts to just take care of everything myself.

  “Look, G, I’m sorry we didn’t tell you where we were headed. But you seemed kind of out of it, so I didn’t even consider you might want to come. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. Right, Adam?”

  “Sorry, G. You’re right. We are a team.”

  Giguhl tilted his chin down, accepting our apologies. “One more thing. The next time you have a chance to go to a drag show, I don’t care what you have to do, but you better smuggle my ass in.”

  I’d totally forgotten about the faery’s show earlier. “Oh, right. Great show, Brooks.”

  The fae winked at me. “Thanks, hon. Adam? What did you think?”

  Adam looked a little pained as he struggled for a response. Finally, he settled with, “It was… something.”

  While Brooks smiled at the mage, Giguhl turned to me. “Please tell me you took pictures.”

  “Sorry, G. I was so entranced it didn’t occur to me.” Turning to Brooks, I said, “Where did you learn to do the splits like that?”

  With his eyes on Adam, he said, “I’m extremely flexible.”

  I changed the subject. “I have a question. How do you prefer to be addressed?”

  Brooks smiled. “You mean do I consider myself a ‘he’ or a ‘she’?” When I nodded uncomfortably, Brooks continued. “I know it gets confusing. A lot of queens don’t go by ‘she’ at all, some insist on ‘she’ all the time, and others only when they’re in drag. Me? I’ll answer to anything.”

  I nodded. “Good to know. I didn’t know if you were sensitive—”

  Brooks waved a hand. “Darlin’, I tuck my unmentionables and secure them with duct tape.” Giguhl hissed and Adam covered his crotch with his hand.

  I laughed. “Well when you put it that way…”

  Adam dropped his protective hand and shifted uncomfortably. “Since you’re in a sharing mood, I’ve got a question, too. Which species of fae are you exactly?”

  Brooks crossed his—I’d decided to stick with the masculine for simplicity—arms, his expression gone from flirtatious to defensive. “Why?”

  Adam shrugged. “Just wondering. Most of the fae I know try to live near green spaces or have access to other fae.”

  Brooks’s chin went up. “I suppose I would do that, too, if I’d been raised among the fae.”

  I frowned. “What does that mean?”

  Adam nudged me. Under his breath he said, “He’s a changeling.”

  I looked up at Adam. “Huh?”

  But Brooks stepped in. “He said I’m a changeling. My fae parents left me with humans right after I was born. I was raised as a human kid until it became obvious I wasn’t like the other children. I tried to hide it for a while, but then I couldn’t deny it any longer. Unfortunately, my human parents weren’t too thrilled when I came out of the faery mound, so to speak. They kicked me out when I was fourteen.”

  My mouth dropped open. “That’s terrible.”

  “It happens to lots of changelings, unfortunately,” Adam said. To Brooks: “How did you end up with Zen?”

  “She volunteered at a shelter I crashed at when I was seventeen. By then I was pretty messed up,” he said vaguely. “But Zen recognized that I was fae and helped me. Got me cleaned up. Gave me a job and a place to live. Without her, I doubt I’d still be alive.”

  We were all silent as we listened to his story. On some level I could relate to not being accepted by your family because of something you couldn’t control. But even though Lavinia was about as nurturing as a viper, at least I’d never had to live on the streets. I’d liked Brooks before, but now I respected him, too.

  “Wow,” Giguhl said, dispelling the solemn cloud that hung over our group. “You’re just like Pretty Woman.”

  Brooks nodded solemnly. “Except I’m still waiting for my Richard Gere.”

  Giguhl sighed. “Aren’t we all?” He looked around at each of us with a can-I-get-an-amen look.

  I shot a frown at the demon. “Anyway, Brooks, I’m glad everything worked out.”

  Adam nodded. “Ditto.”

  “Thanks, guys. Now, what took you so long to get back? You left the club hours ago.”

  Giguhl turned to look at us with his arms crossed. “Yeah! What gives?”

  “We went to get Sabina blood and ran into an old friend.” He folded back the flap of his duster, revealing the unconscious owl.

  Giguhl cringed with his claws up defensively. “What the hell?”

  Brooks scooted back behind the demon. “Is it dead?”

  “Just unconscious,” I explained. “How long can he stay like that, Adam?”

  The mage frowned. “Not much longer. We probably need to rig up some sort of cage for him while we sleep.”

  “Excuse me,” Giguhl interjected. “What the hell does kidnapping Stryx accomplish?”

  Adam sighed and rose, leaving the owl in the seat. “I’ll go see if Zen has anything we can use while you explain it to him, Sabina.”

  My lips pressed together as I glared at the mage. Just before he closed the door, I caught a ghost of a smile on his lips. Ass.

  “Wait. Before you tell us, can you please cover that thing?” Giguhl said. “It’s creepy as shit.”

  For some reason when Adam zapped the owl, its eyes stayed open. Despite Stryx being unconscious, the surface of the blood-red pupils shifted and spun like a mesmerizer. Something told me if I stared into them too long I’d end up hypnotized—or worse. I shuddered and tossed a blanket over the bird.

  Ten minutes later, Giguhl and Brooks had the full story and were sitting as far away from the unconscious owl as possible.

  Adam returned then, carrying a birdcage. Actually, the ornate design and massive size made it into more of a bird mansion. Zen followed him through the door. I stifled my grimace at her arrival. She might have rubbed me the wrong way when we m
et, but she was nice enough to put us up for free and all.

  “Where’d you find that?” I asked.

  Adam nodded toward the voodoo priestess, who made a beeline for the blanket-covered lump. “She had it in her shop.”

  Zen rushed over and removed the blanket. “Holy Loa, that’s a big owl.”

  “Cover it back up,” Giguhl said, covering his eyes lest he accidentally look into the psychedelic orbs. Zen frowned at the demon but did as he asked. I had to admit I found the demon’s aversion odd, too. After all, it wasn’t like Giguhl hadn’t been around Stryx before. Plus, as the reigning Demon Fight Club champion of New York City’s Black Light District, Giguhl wasn’t exactly a wimp. But even I had to admit those freaky eyes and the owl’s preternatural stillness were pretty freaking ominous.

  “Thank goodness I had a cage large enough,” Zen said.

  I ignored her and spoke to Adam. “Sure, it’s big enough. But will it hold him?”

  Adam tapped the edge. “It’s just bronze, but I can ward it so he can’t get out and kill us in our sleep.”

  “Oh, that’s comforting.”

  The mage shot me an evil grin that did little to ease my concerns. “Nah, it’ll be fine for now. We can figure out something more permanent in the morning.”

  “I know you aren’t leaving that demon bird out here with me,” Giguhl said, rubbing his arms.

  I rolled my eyes. “Quit being such a baby.”

  The petite faery patted the menacing seven-foot-tall demon’s arm. “Don’t worry, big guy. We won’t let the owl hurt you.”

  Giguhl sent me a look that clearly said At least someone cares. To Zen he said, “You got any of them voodoo bags or whatever to protect me from him?”

  Zen smiled. “A gris gris bag? Sure, if that’ll make you feel better. Come on.” She took the Mischief demon by the arm and led him out, presumably to go to her workshop. As he passed, Giguhl flicked his forked tongue out at me.

  As annoyed as I was by Giguhl’s easy transfer of affections to Zen, I appreciated them getting him out of there so I could concentrate. Brooks, however, stayed behind. He watched the bird with fascination.

  “Is he really a demon?”

  I shook my head. “Not technically. He’s a spy for this secret sect of dark races called the Caste of Nod. He also feasts on the blood of the dead.”

  Brooks’s eyes widened. “I think I’ll go check on Zen and Gigi.”

  I paused. “Gigi?”

  Brooks blushed. “It’s a nickname I came up with for Giguhl. He said he doesn’t mind it.”

  “Hmm.” I squinted my eyes at him. Considering Giguhl had rejected my own pet names for him, his easy acceptance of such a ridiculous nickname from Brooks gave me pause. “Whatever.”

  With the fae finally gone, I turned to Adam. “You want me to hold the cage while you stick it in?”

  “Or since I’m already holding the cage, you can do the honors.”

  I sighed and stomped over to the owl. Keeping him wrapped in the blanket—because touching his feathers creeped me out a bit more than I wanted to admit after the ribbing I’d given Giguhl—I gingerly lifted the owl. Getting him inside the cage was a little trickier, but after some maneuvering I finally dumped him inside. After locking the little door tight, I dropped the tainted cover like a hot match and rubbed my hands on my jeans.

  “Should we wake him up to make sure it holds?” My tone clearly indicated I thought that was a really freakin’ bad idea.

  Adam nodded and carried the cage into the kitchen and placed it in the center of the table. “You might want to stand back.”

  I took three big steps back and palmed my gun. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

  The mage whispered something under his breath. A pop sounded, and a small plume of smoke rose from the cage. The bird came to life in an explosion of avian rage. Terrible screeching filled the space. A blizzard of white feathers blew around the room. The owl’s body slammed against the bars of his prison.

  When the chaos began, Adam jumped out of harm’s way to join me at the doorway. “He keeps that up and the whole thing’s going to tip over.”

  The cage already had scooted four inches toward the edge of the table. I nudged Adam’s ribs. “Maybe you should put it on the floor.”

  “I’d prefer to keep all my fingers, thanks.” He waggled the digits in question. The room tingled with magic that made the hairs on my arms prickle as the cage rose from the table. The bird’s furious movements made the whole thing wobble in the air. But a few moments later, the cage safely touched down on the linoleum.

  “There,” Adam said, brushing his hands together.

  “Sabiiiina!”

  I cringed. “Oh, shit, you’ve angered it.”

  “Me? He hissed your name.”

  For some reason, a memory from that night in Jackson Square with Lavinia flashed into my head, giving me an idea. “Hold on,” I said. “I want to try something.” I took a step closer to the cage. Stryx flung himself against the bars. Showing no fear, I paused and looked directly at the owl. “Master Mahan.”

  “Hoot?” Instead of the evil hiss of before, the owl’s call now sounded plaintive, a little sad.

  “What the…?” Adam said, looking confused.

  “The other night every time Lavinia said that name Stryx did the same thing. What do you think it means?”

  Adam rubbed the patch of hair on his chin. “Well, we know Stryx works for the Caste, right? Damara told us that back in New York.” Damara was Rhea’s magic apprentice who had been secretly working with the Caste to try and kill me. At the end, she’d sung like a canary and shared all sorts of interesting tidbits about her connection to the Caste. Except for the trying-to-get-me-killed thing, she was really not much more than a misguided, naive girl. Too bad her choices got her killed. “Maybe the truth is Stryx really belongs to Master Mahan.”

  Hoot.

  “Like a pet, you mean?” I said, eyeing the owl dubiously.

  Adam shrugged. “Maybe. I wish I knew more about this mysterious Caste leader. I mean, what kind of being would keep that as a pet?”

  Before I could answer, Stryx hissed and rammed his head into the bars. He seemed even angrier, if possible. “The more immediate question is: Will the cage hold?”

  Adam squinted at the bars. “Not sure. I can ward it so he can’t get out, but maybe we should secure it just in case.”

  I pursed my lips and looked around the room. “What if we put the whole cage in something sturdy?” I nodded toward the far end of the kitchen.

  “Sabina, don’t you think that’s a little cruel?”

  I crossed my arms. “Adam,” I said, matching his tone. “He’s a godsdamned vampire owl from the depths of the underworld. Given the chance, he’d drain each of us dry and pluck out our eyes with his razorlike beak. So, no, I’m not particularly worried about stowing his cage in a broken refrigerator. Especially if it means we get a decent night’s sleep.”

  Adam thought about it for a moment, his eyes on the fridge. While he pondered, Stryx kept up his berserker act. The cage squealed across the floor like nails down a chalkboard. Finally, the damned thing hit the edge of the cage so hard it slammed into Adam’s foot. The mage yowled and jumped. I bent down to look at his foot and found a new hole in his boot leather courtesy of the aforementioned beak. The owl stilled. Then something that sounded specifically like an evil cackle rose up from the cage.

  I glanced at Adam with an eyebrow raised. He scowled down at me like a judge handing down an order of execution. “Put the fucking bird in the fridge already.”

  11

  The next evening, we all gathered in the shop. Giguhl catnapped on the counter. In deference to his desire to be more involved, we’d come to an agreement about him staying in cat form while in the public areas.

  Zen and Brooks discussed inventory over by a display of voodoo dolls. I leaned against the counter, chugging cow’s blood, and tried to shake the fog out of my head. Adam stood bl
eary-eyed behind the counter, nursing his coffee.

  I wrinkled my nose at the cloying scent wafting up from the cat. “Giguhl, do you really need to wear that thing down here?” He wore a red chamois bag attached to his cat collar. Zen had anointed it with jasmine oil, which alone might have been okay, but mixed with sandalwood, comfrey, and gods only knew what else, the aroma was overpowering.

  The cat perked open one eye. “Don’t take your grumpiness out on me. It’s not my fault the stupid owl screeched all night.”

  I scowled at the cat and took another swig of caffeine. My idea of sticking Stryx in the fridge the night before hadn’t been so brilliant, after all. The box kept him contained, all right, but instead of dampening the incessant banging and offended screeches, the hollow box amplified the racket. It hadn’t been so bad in my bedroom, since I could close the door. But the racket forced Adam and Giguhl out of the living room and into my bed. Around five a.m, they burst in and took over despite my vehement protests. I finally gave up when Adam reminded me that putting the bird on ice had been my idea. Therefore, I’d spent the majority of the day wedged in between a hot mage and a snoring demon.

  Zen walked over and interrupted my grumpy woolgathering. “I take it you still haven’t figured out how to communicate with the owl?”

  Adam sighed and set down his mug. “No. I tried to talk to it before we came down, but he wouldn’t stop hissing and scratching. You’d think he’d run out of steam at some point, but—” He shrugged and shook his head.

  Zen pursed her lips. “Have you considered asking the spirits for help?”

  “That’s not exactly my area,” Adam said. “But we’re open to suggestions.”

  I leaned with my elbows on the counter, both eager to hear the voodooienne’s ideas and resentful that we needed a human’s help to find my sister. However, the sad fact was, despite my mage heritage, I knew very little about magic. Sure, I’d had some preliminary training from Rhea, but the sum total of my skills included summoning Giguhl and the ability to immolate my enemies with my eyes. While the latter option held great appeal where Stryx was concerned, I wasn’t ready to give up on the possibility he could help us find Maisie.