by Jessa Slade
What had happened between her and Liam? Together, they’d snared the salambes. And the severed souls of the haints had vanished too. When she’d vowed to find out what happened to Andre and then to get solvo off the streets, she hadn’t quite figured on becoming a trap herself, a menace not so different from the sort she’d fought all her life. Sure, she intended to use her powers for good. But then there was that whole possessed-by-evil thing....
She realized the silence had spread to the front seat too.
Liam’s resigned sigh carried less air than the straining heater, but Jilly heard it. “So, Sera, what haven’t you told me about this mated-talyan bond?”
Jilly cleared her throat. “I might’ve already let slip that wild demonic sex makes for a fun night of possession.”
Sera glanced back at her. “How’d he take it?”
“About like you’d expect.”
“Hmm. Archer got over it.”
“Undoubtedly,” Liam snapped. “I know you’ve been in the league archives. What have you found?”
Sera squirmed. “Nothing specific, nothing definitive, or I would have told you.”
His low growl held demonic double octaves.
“But,” she went on hurriedly, “I think the teshuva got scared.”
Jilly leaned forward, arms braced on the seat in front of her. “Demons get scared?”
Sera shrugged. “Maybe I’m reading too much into it. But there are oblique references to secret meetings between league leaders. They apparently decided the mated bond ran counter to the mission of the teshuva and unbalanced the human/demon link with potentially catastrophic results. I’m guessing, from supply manifests and armory inventories, that they outlawed relationships between talyan, then split the leagues into male and female factions.”
Jilly scooted farther forward. “What happened to the girls-only leagues?”
“Unknown. After all, I’m reading the bad ol’ boys’ club version of events. And I didn’t get the sense they were really eager to talk about it. You know how men are.”
Liam cleared his throat.
“But it’s obvious,” Sera said, “over the centuries, the leagues lost touch, not just with their female counterparts, but with each other.” She glanced at Liam. “It’s only lately that there’s been any communication at all. Thanks mostly to you, Liam.”
He grunted. “Lot of stubborn, old- fashioned, rule-bound autocrats.”
Jilly snorted.
He glared over his shoulder at her. “Put your seat belt on.”
She ignored him. “So there could be more of us out there.”
Sera gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Maybe. It might be worth exploring. In all our free time, when we’re not fighting off evil incarnate in a desperate attempt to prevent the powers of darkness from sneakily—and lately not so sneakily—transforming our realm into a destination getaway for vacationing hell dwellers.”
“Or maybe we’ll leave it alone,” Liam snapped. “Considering our predecessors thought there was an excellent chance you all would destroy us, maybe the world, with your heretical demon-slaying—”
“Doesn’t that sound off to you?” Jilly mused. “How can destroying evil be heretical?”
Liam ignored her, his attention on Sera. “Then tell me why I shouldn’t separate you and Archer.”
Any semblance of warmth deserted the car.
Sera’s voice echoed with demonic lows. “Because you can’t.”
“That begs the question.”
“No begging,” Sera demurred. “You just can’t.”
“He thinks we’re dangerous,” Jilly added helpfully. She sat back and clipped on her seat belt when Liam swiveled his head to glare at her again.
“He’s right,” Sera said. “And the only thing that keeps me from being dangerous and destructively psychotic from the knowledge that an eternity of war spreads ahead of me”—her hazel eyes gleamed with enough violet to refract in the windshield—“is Ferris.”
Liam shook his head. “So either way, with Archer or without, the fate of the world lies in the balance?”
“Damned if you do . . . ,” Jilly offered, ready for his glare this time.
“My world was always at stake,” Sera said softly. “I just forgot I cared. Until I loved him.”
Despite the grumble of the old engine, the breathy whistle of wind past the poorly sealed door, her words fell in a hush. Jilly wanted to swear, open the window to let in the night, do something to break that stillness before she looked into it and saw . . .
“Never mind,” Liam said curtly. “It’s too late now anyway. Whatever Corvus has figured out, we can’t put the djinni back in the bottle.”
Sera startled. “Corvus?”
“Watch the road, damn it. I’ll fill everyone in after dawn. Pull over there.”
Jilly felt another chill as the car rolled to a stop. Laulau’s light was on. What would her elderly landlady be doing up at this time of night?
“Imagine that,” Liam murmured. “Another known unknown with odd hours.”
Out of the car, Jilly fell into step behind Liam as he approached the door, Sera a step behind that. Liam tried the door. It was unlocked.
“That’s unnerving,” Sera murmured.
A dank, earthy scent spiced with ginger rolled out, turning to steam on the cold air before dissipating. The shop was deserted, but from the back, Lau-lau’s voice rang out, “That you, xiao-Jilly? If you’re someone else, the qilin will kill you, so get out.”
Liam froze.
“A qilin is a Chinese unicorn.” Jilly gestured at the small cinnabar statue almost lost in the clutter on the counter. “So I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“Speak for yourself,” he muttered.
Jilly glanced in disbelief at Sera.
The other woman shrugged. “I didn’t believe in demons either.”
Jilly huffed out a breath. “It’s me, Lau-lau. With friends.”
“Your dragon-man?” Lau-lau poked her head through the curtain that shielded the back room. Her thin hair was rolled in curlers. “Ah. My tea was good, yes?”
He nodded. “Quite restorative.”
She cackled. “Such a gentleman.” She turned a curious glance on Sera. “It’s good Jilly has found friends her own age.”
Jilly sighed. Was immortal her own age? “We need some help, Lau-lau.”
“Yes. The demons are out in force tonight.”
The three talyan stared at the old woman.
She peered back, black eyes crinkling. “You are not the only force fighting evil in this city, you know.”
After a moment, Liam shook his head. “We seemed very alone.”
Lau-lau waved her hand. “More powerful, perhaps, but not the oldest, and not alone.”
“This is too weird,” Jilly said. “I just happen to get possessed by a demon, and my landlady just happens to be a secret commando in the war on evil?”
Lau-lau scoffed. “ ‘Just’ nothing. Why do you think I rented to you?”
“But I didn’t know anything about demons then.”
The wrinkles in Lau-lau’s face deepened around her down-turned mouth. “The shadow was on you already.”
“Your penance trigger,” Sera said softly. “It set you on this path a long time ago.”
Lau-lau nested her hands, one fist inside the other, her gnarled knuckles white. “I’m sorry that I could not turn you aside on your path.”
For an instant, Jilly envisioned that divergence. A different life. An actual life, with death and everything. A life without ever discovering the league. Or Liam. The instant, bone-deep denial of the thought shook her. “I wouldn’t have listened.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have.” Lau-lau gestured for them to follow her into the back.
At the small kitchen stove, Lau- lau stirred a huge cast-iron pot. Despite her hair rollers and housecoat, she obviously hadn’t been to bed yet. The redolence of fresh ginger burned in Jilly’s sinuses, and she rubbed her nose to hold
back a sneeze.
Lau-lau angled the spoon to display the watery paste. “Strengthens the Po. Demon repellent.”
Sera peered over the older woman’s shoulder. “Does it work?”
“You can try it. Since you are Jilly’s friend, I’ll give you a big discount.” Lau-lau grinned at her.
“There’s a market for this stuff?”
Lau-lau’s grin sharpened. “There will be.”
Liam stood in the beaded doorway, a concession to the small room. With his arms crossed over his chest, he still took up more than his fair share of the space. “You could have told us earlier you knew.”
“You had other business,” Lau-lau reminded him. “Thanks to my tea.”
His expression didn’t change. “So tell us—plainly, please—about Jilly’s bracelet.”
“I explained, the knot work is a trap. The labyrinth has always held secrets. And dangers.”
He stiffened, and beads clacked around his shoulders. “Dangers for who?”
“The demons. And you, of course.” She narrowed her eyes. “Doesn’t it always work that way?”
He pushed away from the doorway. “Maybe you have a balm to counteract that.”
She shook her head. “Just as butterflies fly in the strong winds, fate is not washed away by even the strongest tea.”
Jilly broke in, her frustration mounting with Liam’s. “If we knew more about how to set the trap, bait it, spring it . . .”
“I sell herbs, xiao-Jilly. I am not a warrior with all the wisdom you seek.” Lau-lau swept a fretful hand down the front of her housecoat. In a voice more bitter than anything in her apothecary cabinet, she said, “Once, we all held pieces of the great mysteries. We are shrunken now, and old, forgetful. We have lost track of each other and the mysteries we guarded. Tricks and hints are all we have left.”
Jilly drew a breath to argue, but Sera shot her a silencing glance and dragged her wallet from her back pocket. “One good trick can shut up the toughest audience. I’d like some of that repellent. You take plastic?”
“Cash only,” Lau-lau said primly.
While they bottled up the unguent, Liam returned to the shop. Jilly followed and watched him prowl the tight space. She took a few steps in, narrowing his restless paces.
He half turned away from her, his expression distant, and poked at the impulse buys scattered across the countertop by the register. Suddenly, his gaze sharpened, and with one long finger, he separated a small tube from the rest. “You use this one. Cherry blossoms.”
She spared one glance for the lip balm. “How did you know she was something else?”
“I guessed. Things happen around you female talyan. Patterns shift. Forces realign.” His fingers grazed the reven at his temple before he raked his fingers through his hair. “Corvus started this, you know. He wanted to punch a hole through the Veil, and his efforts, with the help of my Bookkeeper, brought through a demon. The demon that possessed Sera, that would have given him access to the weakness in the Veil. Except Sera controls it now, in some strange way she can’t explain to me. So I’m sitting on a major threat to the status quo that has been maintained since the first Fall. And now you.”
“Me what?” She tightened her fists.
“You’re even harder to sit on.” He shook his head. “We’re headed to hell—do not pass go, do not collect handbasket—on my watch.”
She lifted one eyebrow, not sure if she should be more amused or disgusted at his arrogance. “So this is all about you? About your conceit that you have to be the best damn leader?”
“Damned is right,” he snapped at her.
“You’re just pissed that you can’t control Sera, can’t control me. You are no better than Corvus.”
The words sprang out of her as if she’d whipped the half-moon knives from her pocket. But she couldn’t blame it on the demon’s reflexes.
Liam’s blue gaze shuttered over his reaction, if he felt anything at all. “I have no more choice than you.”
She wanted to rail at him, force a crack in that cool facade. “I don’t know why, but I thought you were different.” She’d started thinking he was strong and wise and, oh God, a superhero from one of her childhood comic books, come to save her from all those wrong-way turns.
That had been just another of her mistakes. Like leaving home. Like confronting Rico. Like thinking she could help those homeless kids when half the time they didn’t even want her help, and the other half of the time they vanished before she could steer them toward the light.
Liam didn’t really want help either. He had his own thing going, as deep in denial as any of the angry boys she’d worked with.
Trying to go her own way, she’d ended up possessed. Thinking she could forge a connection with Liam, she’d end up . . . Forget it. She wasn’t going there.
Maybe those long-lost talya sisters hadn’t been banished. Maybe they’d left freely, if not happily. Their souls were forfeit, but at least they knew their own minds.
And they weren’t going to lose their hearts too.
CHAPTER 17
For once, Jilly had no smart remarks. Which riled Liam more than her accusation that he was worse than Corvus. Had she given up that easily, decided he couldn’t be redeemed? Just as she’d let go of his hand when he’d offered a truce.
He drove away from her apartment with Sera in the front passenger seat cradling her stinking jar of goo. A glance in the rearview mirror showed him Jilly staring out her window, her expression utterly closed. As if she were the wronged party.
Didn’t she understand that she—all right, they—had crossed a line when they played in the demon zone? Bad enough to be infested with a teshuva. He’d resigned himself to that long ago. But he wasn’t going to compound his sin by risking the barrier that protected the world.
He’d seen the change in Archer when Sera came, the shift in focus. More than once, he’d wondered if he would have to intervene and separate them. Even nonchalantly voicing the thought to Sera had garnered exactly the reaction he feared.
Insisting on twin beds probably wouldn’t be enough, not when they had risked the world for each other already.
If that devil- may-care recklessness was the result of the mated-talyan bond, no wonder the early league leaders had run screaming in the other direction. With the fate of the league and what remained of the talyan’s souls on his head, he could never allow himself the same indulgence as Archer. He had to accept the price he’d paid and remain faithful to the commitments he’d made, that all the other talyan made, night after night.
Regardless of the desires that came to him in his dreams.
Still he couldn’t help trying to force her gaze in the mirror. He almost missed the exit onto Lower Wacker and had to swerve to avoid the concrete pylon that marked the entrance to the bottom deck.
“About those moving violations,” Sera muttered. He gave her the mildest glance and she subsided.
Abruptly, from the backseat, Jilly said, “We should go back to the bar.”
“It was that kind of night,” Sera agreed.
Jilly didn’t crack a smile. “Not to drink. If solvo dealers are still selling out of the Coil, I bet I can pick up a trail of soulflies there. Maybe they’ll lead us to Corvus again.”
“Soulflies?” Sera sat straighter.
“Never mind and no,” Liam ground out. “This round with Corvus was a wash. Let’s quit while we’re not too far behind.”
“Quit?” Sera boggled at him. “Since when—?”
“Since Corvus can call down on command more tenebrae than we’ve ever dealt with at once. Since Jilly and I—” He gritted his teeth. “Since I said so.”
After a moment, Sera nodded. “Oh. Right. Since then.”
Liam realized Jilly was finally looking at him. Despite the intermittent flashes of the overhead fluorescent streetlights, her golden eyes were hidden.
“So you’re not going to unleash me to do what I can?” Her voice was low, but with no echo of
the demon. Like she wasn’t even upset. But he noticed she didn’t include him in who’d contributed what to the night’s clusterfuck.
He tried for a small smile, but it made his jaw ache. “I’m just not the unleashing kind of guy. When we have another chance—a chance that won’t make things worse than they are now—we’ll take it. But not before then.”
She didn’t move and his demon was dormant, so he couldn’t possibly have sensed the minute shift of air. Nevertheless, he felt her withdrawal.
Well, she’d heard Sera. With all their girl talk, she must know as well as he did that was what had to be. They didn’t have to beat it out like dull iron just to make the necessary severing edge.
Dawn was coming. Between the support pillars on the open side of the tunnel, the river reflected the silvering sky. Even with his enhanced sight, the demon sign by which the teshuva hunted would be harder to see as daylight banished the creatures that prowled the night through all the ages.
Although lately those creatures had been coming out of the shadows. A circumstance that was only slightly more terrifying than female talyan.
Once again, he was flailing, out of his depth. But this time, the weapon at his disposal was more devastating than the war.
Disposal. The word appalled him. Jilly wasn’t disposable. And yet she had to be, just like all the talyan were. For all intents, despite their immortality, they were already dead to the world. They were fated to die for the teshuva’s cause.
In the cold spring light, the grungy warehouse windows reflected nothing back, gray as the demon realm. He pulled the car around back, glad to see most of the league’s vehicles accounted for. He wanted to hear the night’s reports, bring them up to speed—if a confused standstill could be called speed—and then climb into a shower hot enough to burn away even a salambe’s chill.
He parked, and his passengers got out. He sat a moment, until Sera leaned in. “You coming?”
“Yeah.” He forced his hands off the steering wheel. The poor hatchback couldn’t carry him far enough to escape this. Why he’d even think it . . . ?
