by Adams, Cat
ask, did you really, seriously, face down
a greater demon?”
I shuddered. I couldn’t help it. That
was one of my worst memories. “Twice.
Not by choice.” Bruno’s grip tightened a
little, and I could easily guess that the
look he was giving Gary was something
less than friendly. “I don’t recommend
exorcisms. They hurt.”
“Had to be scary,” the GA continued.
“It’s utterly terrifying, and not
something anyone who’s been through it
wants to talk about,” Emma said from
the hallway, cold and hard.
“Right.” Gary squirmed, then decided
abruptly that there was someplace else
he needed to be. “Look at the time. I’ve
gotta run. Later, DeLuca. Guys.” He
brushed past Bruno and me, stepped
around Emma, and was gone. As Emma
edged into the office and made her way
to the one desk in the place that wasn’t
littered with scattered junk, she spoke
very softly, to Bruno. “Just so you know,
Professor Sloan was less than a minute
behind me.”
“Crap.” Bruno released my waist and
stepped over to the nearest wall.
Seconds later he’d vanished, replaced
by a battered coat tree with a couple of
jackets and an umbrella hanging from it.
It’s not that he doesn’t like Dr. Sloan.
Bruno thinks he’s great. But the
professor
had
been
running
him
absolutely ragged when I’d left for
Mexico. Apparently, he still was.
“DeLuca!”
Dr.
Sloan’s
voice
preceded him into the office. “I’ve had a
thought about that table. I want you to—”
The short, wiry, elderly man appeared in
the doorway. Looking around through
thick glasses, he found Trudy, Emma,
and Jan working hard at their desks and
no sign at all of Bruno.
“Hi, Dr. Sloan. How are you doing?”
I said.
“Celia.” He smiled broadly and
cocked one bushy eyebrow at me. “I’m
well. The question is, how are you? Has
the curse mark faded?”
“I’m fine. And I can’t tell on the mark.
Maybe a little. I’m not sure.” I held out
my hand so he could look at my palm.
“Jan, Trudy, come here. You’ll want
to see this. It’s not often you get to see a
death curse of this quality on a living
human being.”
They obediently came over to
examine my palm. Dr. Sloan gave them a
brief, esoteric lecture about the nature of
death curses in general and of mine in
particular—the one that kept putting me
face-to-face with said greater demon—
before releasing my hand and gesturing
them back to work with shooing
movements of his hands. Then, winking
at me, he turned directly to the coat rack.
“DeLuca, you may take the rest of the
afternoon off to visit with the lovely Ms.
Graves. But I expect you in my office at
ten o’clock tomorrow morning, without
fail. Do I make myself clear?”
The illusion faded, revealing a
sheepish-looking Bruno. “Absolutely.”
“Good.” He turned on his heel and
left. But his parting shot could be heard
from the hall. “Have fun, kids.”
“All right.” Bruno turned to the others.
“What did I miss?”
“You’re kidding, right?” Trudy gave a
derisive snort. “The illusion was
perfect. Your work is always perfect.
The doctor must be psychic.”
I shook my head no. He’d missed
something. The illusion was not perfect.
Bruno turned to me. “What?”
I gave him a little smile. “Your
cologne. He could smell your cologne.
It’s very distinctive.”
Jan laughed. “Of course.”
Bruno’s expression darkened. “Hmm.
Smell … I’ll have to work on that.” He
wandered over to his desk, where there
was a hand mirror in a scrolled silver
frame lying next to a razor-sharp knife.
With a quick, deft movement, he picked
up one of the blades and sliced
shallowly into his forearm. There was a
surge of power as his blood spilled onto
the shining glass and was absorbed into
it. The cut knit itself closed as I
watched. Bruno hadn’t even winced.
“That is just so cool.” I hadn’t meant
to say it out loud. I should be used to it
by now. I’ve seen Bruno working often
enough. But every time, it just gets to me.
I realized that Jan was glaring at me
an instant before he shifted his gaze to
the knife and then Bruno’s face. Both
men looked stubborn, just short of angry,
and I had the feeling I had walked into
the middle of an ongoing argument. “I
fail to understand why you would do this
to yourself for her.” The blond man
made a sharp gesture at me. “You
yourself said that she allowed one of the
knives you created to be ruined.”
“ I told you”—Bruno’s eyes locked
with Jan’s—“she used the knife to kill
the überbat that attacked my brother. It’s
not her fault that Lilith had been a spawn
before she was turned.”
“She was?” That was news to me, but
it explained why her death had been so
weird. Normally, to kill a vampire you
stake it, cut off its head and take out its heart, then have the parts cremated
separately and spread over separate
bodies of running water. When I stabbed
Lilith with the knife Bruno had made for
me, she’d burned to ash, from the inside
out. It had been très creepy and totally
unexpected.
“I’ve done the research. It’s the only
possible explanation for Lilith’s ability
to call a priest on holy ground … and for
the damage to the knife.”
Um, wow. Okay. I didn’t even know
that it was possible for a spawn to be
turned. I mean, Spawn are the offspring
of a mating between a human and a
demon, so they’re already monsters.
Wasn’t turning one into a vampire sort
of … well … redundant?
“So you’ve said.” Jan obviously
didn’t believe him.
“Jan,” Trudy said, sounding martyred,
“just stop, will you? You just saw the
curse mark, which you claimed couldn’t
possibly exist on a living human. You’ve
heard the stories about Celia’s fangs,
read about her in the magazines. Now
here she is … fangs, curse, and in
daylight.”
“It isn’t possible for one person—”
“To be that unlucky?” Emma gave a
derisive snort. “You don’t kno
w the half
of it. If the woman who cursed her
wasn’t already dead, I’d kill her myself.
Nobody should have to go through the
kind of shit Celia puts up with.” She
stood and gathered her things. “Now if
you’ll excuse us, Celia and I have
business.” She looked from me to Bruno
and back. “Unless you’re planning on
bailing on me?”
I gave a derisive snort. “Of course
not.” I turned to Bruno, who was still
glaring daggers at Jan. “You coming
with?”
Tearing his gaze away from the other
man, he turned to me. “Nope. You go see
the house. I’ve seen it. We’ll meet at my
place for dinner at … seven o’clock? I
want to have plenty of time to get things
ready.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” I
collected another kiss before I left.
5
I wasn’t sorry to leave. I’d be seeing
Bruno later and the tension in that little
office had been intense. As we were on
our way out of the building, I asked
Emma, “What was that all about?”
“If by ‘that’ you mean my snarling at
Gary—”
“No. That, I get. He pushed your
buttons when he talked about demons.
No surprise, considering your history.”
She nodded, her lips pressed in a tight
line. “He just won’t leave it alone.
Demons fascinate him.”
“And every time he brings the subject
up, it chips away at the magical barrier
muting your memories. Have you talked
to him about it?”
She sighed. “I have. He’s trying to do
better. It wasn’t his fault I walked in
right then.” She pushed open the door to
the outside and held it open for me.
“Just bad luck,” I agreed, then added,
“Are you even supposed to park here?”
We were in the faculty lot and Emma
was leading me to her father’s assigned
spot, which was occupied by a big black
SUV. “Normally, no. But since Dad’s in
Cairo this year, he isn’t using it, and I
needed to borrow his Suburban. I
figured since you were coming to the
house anyway, I’d get you to help me
move Vicki’s big mirror. I don’t really
trust the movers with it.”
That made sense. It was a full-length
mirror in a big wooden frame, both
awkward and heavy. She didn’t need to
worry about breaking it, though. It had
been spelled until it was pretty much
impervious to anything. So the problem
wasn’t with the mirror; it was human
nature. Like my knives, the mirror was a
major magical artifact and thus valuable
as hell. People have killed for that sort
of thing and many more would be happy
to steal it. Emma had inherited the
mirror from Vicki because she had been
the only other person in our circle with
clairvoyant abilities. Emma’s not that
powerful, a level four I think, but the
mirror has helped her focus, so she’s
getting more control and better results,
which is, in effect, the same thing as
moving up a level or two.
“Do you mind?” she asked.
“Of course not.”
“Oh good.” Emma smiled, pointed the
little black keyless remote at the SUV,
and pressed the button. Beeping ensued,
as did the popping of the door locks. She
gestured to the passenger side. “Get in
before you start burning.”
I waited until she’d maneuvered the
SUV out of the tight parking space
before I brought up Jan Mortensen.
“What’s with him? Did he, like, not
believe I existed?”
She groaned, then answered. “Jan
Mortensen is very talented and is a
complete and total ass. I don’t have any
proof, but I’m pretty sure he’s sleeping
with one of his undergrad students.”
“Eww.” I gave a low whistle. While
not unheard of, that was completely
unethical and a firing offense if he got
caught. Which apparently he hadn’t …
yet. Since Emma’s a by-the-books kind
of gal, and her father’s one of the
program
administrators,
I
could
understand why she was upset about it.
“It’s one thing not to believe all the
stories about me. But he actually seems
to hate me. Why?”
“I’ve no clue, but you’re right. He’s
practically irrational on the subject. He
and Bruno don’t get along well because
of it.”
I almost felt like I should apologize,
which was just silly. Mortensen’s
attitude problem was his problem, not
mine. I’d never met the guy before today.
We chatted amiably all the way to
Emma’s place. She caught me up on
Dawna’s wedding plans and I told her
about becoming Adriana’s maid of
honor. Finally, I got around to bitching
about my fight with John Creede.
Emma hadn’t heard we were on the
outs. She paused for a long moment after
I’d told the whole sad tale—up to the
firefight and our escape through the
tunnels. “You know,” she said, “I almost
feel sorry for the guy.”
“Excuse me?” I stared across the seat
at her, eyes wide.
“I mean it. You call him for help. I bet
he figured you wanted him to be your
white knight, charging in to rescue the
damsel in distress—when in fact, you
only wanted an efficient subcontractor
with excellent equipment. That had to be
a blow to the ego of the top guy in the
game.”
I spluttered. I couldn’t help it. A white
knight? Seriously? So not me.
She shook her head, grinning. “A lot
of other women would’ve been angling
for the rescue. Probably more than one
had done just that. Set up a situation
where only he could fix the problem.”
“I’m not like other women.”
“Amen to that.” She laughed, then
continued, “But anyway, I can see how
he got his signals crossed and wound up
grumpy.”
“He wound up more than grumpy.”
“So did you,” she pointed out. “And
when you get grumpy, you occasionally
overreact. Like … kicking him out of the
country when you had people to get to
safety?”
Well, that was true enough. We rode
in silence for a few minutes. I finally
said, “I am perfectly capable of running
a large team.”
“ We l l , duh. Of course you are.
Nobody said you weren’t.”
I didn’t answer. She’s a bright girl.
She connected the dots and turned to me
with shock cle
ar on her face. “Tell me
he didn’t! That bastard. ” Emma’s face
flushed and her eyes blazed. If John
Creede had been here now, she’d have
given him an earful, no doubt about it.
“He’s not completely wrong, though.”
I started reciting the facts. “Glinda
offered me the job to get me out of town,
not because I was qualified. The
company kept the offer on the table
because nobody else would take the job
—including Miller & Creede. In fact,
there’s a good chance MagnaChem hired
me because they figured I’d drag Creede
into this. It’s not like our relationship’s
exactly been a secret.”
Emma pulled the SUV into her
father’s long driveway. “Okay, I can buy
that.” She cast a glance my way. Her
expression was thoughtful, almost stern.
In that moment she was every bit her
father’s daughter: cold, logical, and
brilliant. “But let’s look at this logically.
You got everyone out, right?”
“Yes.” It had been damned close, and
hard as hell. But we managed it.
“Even after you fired his ass and had
no replacements?”
“Yes.”
“And the only injury occurred when
John disobeyed your orders?”
“Yes.”
“Other than you being left behind
because you saved that local, everything
went smoothly once you had a team that
did what you told them?”
“Yes.”
She made a voilà-type gesture, then
slammed the Suburban into park just
outside of the garage door. “Then you’re
capable. And he’s an ass.”
We didn’t talk much for a while after
that. First, we were mirror wrangling.
Second, she’d given me a lot to think
about and was giving me time to digest
it. Still, I could sense her excitement
from the moment we pulled out of the
driveway; it grew steadily as we got
closer to her new place. Her eyes lit up.
Her fingers started tapping against the
steering wheel. Hell, she was practically
bouncing in her seat.
We rounded one last corner, and there
it was.
Wow. Just … wow. I live in the guest
house of a mansion and I’ve been in and
out of some pretty magnificent homes
because of my work. But Emma’s
place … it wasn’t a mansion. It was a
church. Okay, it was a small church, but
it still probably took up most of an acre.
Located on the outskirts of town, it was
a beautiful old stone building with a pair
of
bell
towers
