As if he felt my gaze, he turned, capturing me with cold black eyes. His face was narrow, the eyes deep-set and framed by a thick fringe of midnight lashes, his nose was long and slightly crooked, his mouth set in firm, disapproving lines.
His jawline was square, his chin dimpled and his cheekbones cast dark shadows on his face that made him look dangerous.
The cruel mouth tipped upward derisively as he looked at me. “It appears the queen has finally awakened.”
I bristled at his cold, judgmental attitude. Whoever he was I already didn’t like him. I held his gaze, refusing to be the first to look away. “What’s going on, Dialle?”
“This is my advocate, Astra.”
Ahhh. The devil’s advocate. Never a creature to be trifled with.
“Does your advocate have a name?”
Said advocate turned fully in my direction. I sucked in a breath and my Settling roared. He was a study in male perfection. Tall, broad in all the right places, narrow where he should be narrow, with long, long legs that came together in a suspiciously rounded area that made me wonder if he’d stuffed a small dragon in there for appearances.
You can call me Milc, my queen. And that’s all me. I’d be more than pleased to prove it to you sometime.
I frowned at him. “Get out of my head, advocate. I haven’t given you permission to speak that way to me.”
He gave me a knowing smile and inclined his dark head, sending the thick silk of his waist-length hair forward to cover his features. My frown didn’t soften. Something about the man scared the shit out of me on a personal level.
Never mind the incredible danger inherent in dealing with your average devil’s advocate to start with.
His nostrils flared as he scented me and my daemon hickey sparked as Dialle’s temper rose. “Back down, Milc, or your next breath will be your last.”
Milc’s smile didn’t look fearful or contrite. But he turned away from me and inclined his head toward Dialle. “Your wish, sire.”
“My wish is that you get out there and find whoever’s trying to kill our queen.”
“Yes, sire.” He didn’t look at me again, but he didn’t need to. I felt his magic touch against my most intimate place, with a magic-infused tweak he sent my clit soaring toward release. The pinching touch bordered on painful, wandering over the border for the merest second to tip the balance toward the pleasure side. My Settling surged, bringing heat sparking through my body, and my mouth opened against a helpless wave of pleasure. A phantom pair of lips and the sharp bite of ghostly teeth finished what that intimate little pinch had started.
Heat flared in my cheeks. My breath stalled in my chest. And my knees softened under a wave of lust that sent me shuddering into orgasm with impossible ease.
His smooth-as-silk voice slid across my overexcited nerve endings as he blipped away.
I look forward to showing you mine, Astra. Then you can show me yours.
I gasped, drawing Dialle’s questioning gaze. I turned away from Dialle, feeling guilty even though I’d done nothing wrong.
To cover my little problem I dropped back onto the bed, feigning weariness. After Dialle and Gerch left, I covered myself up to my chin and lay there shivering. All I could think was that I wasn’t going to enjoy working with the advocate. Or maybe I was going to enjoy it too much.
Either way I was in trouble. And the score was already against me.
Advocate one.
Astra zero control over the situation.
Chapter Four
Shrill Ministrations
Flanked by friends whose help still rubs, our lady pursues business,
But something big that smells like beast, turns normal work to weirdness.
Astra!
My eyes shot open. My brain stem melted from the shrill, angry tones bouncing around inside my head. I groaned, scrubbing a hand over my face.
Pushing myself upright, I glanced toward the wall of windows across the room. The night sky glowed with ambient light from the distant Angel City skyline.
I’d fallen asleep again. Apparently the healing had taken more out of me than I’d thought.
Astra!
What, Darma? What do you want?
I’m still waiting for an assignment.
I don’t have anything for you. I already told you that.
You’re lying.
Am not.
Are too. I’m looking at a report on your information unit right now. Mx. Davis needs our help with a demon, Astra.
I frowned. There was only one way she could know that.
What are you doing at my house?
Since my office was gone, and all my records were duplicated on my home information unit, it was the only place she could be looking at my client records.
I couldn’t get you to respond so I decided to be proactive.
Proactive, huh?
I went to your office but it was burned to the ground.
I frowned.
And it didn’t occur to you to wonder if I burned to the ground with it?
I could feel her disgust in my mind.
I would have known if you were dead, Astra.
That’s comforting.
Anyway, I’m going to talk to Mx. Davis right now.
No!
Why not?
You don’t know what you’re doing. This demon is big and nasty. You’ll get yourself killed. You need an experienced hunter with you.
I should have seen the warning throbbing in the silence. But my mind must have still been fuzzy from the healing.
You’re right. That’s why I’m taking Slayer with me.
Wait, what? Slayer? How are you gonna find him?
I don’t need to. He’s here with me. I’ll put a full report on your desk in the morning, Astra. Enjoy whatever the hell you’re doing. The adults will take care of your business while you play.
She faded from my mind, leaving behind only the bright haze of her disgust. I screamed and threw a pillow. It didn’t make me feel any better.
Climbing out of bed, I realized anew that I was sans clothing. Glancing around the room I saw nothing. I grabbed a sheet from the bed, wrapped it around my body and pulled my power forward.
The door to Dialle’s chambers was opening as I visualized my home and started to shimmer away.
The last thing I saw before I shapeshifted from the room was a pair of surprised black eyes in a familiar red face.
Gerch. Babysitter from Hell.
I wanted to smile but my lips wouldn’t move. He’d lost me again.
Dialle would kick his ass.
It sucketh to be him.
* * * * *
Sure enough, when I landed in my living space I sensed Slayer’s slightly smoky magic signature in the room. It was overlaid with my sister’s own unique flavor of magic, which was citrusy and bright, annoying like she was.
They were already gone.
I hurried to my room and pulled on a sweater and soft pants, stuffing the narrow hems into soft black leather boots that bunched around my ankles. I set my hand over my weapons safe and, when the front panel slid aside, gathered up an impressive array of weaponry. Sliding a knife into each boot, I strapped my belt of platinum crosses around my waist.
I was nearly out the door when it hit me.
The Red Knight.
It wasn’t there. It had been in the docking area underneath my office building. My knees buckled and I almost went to the ground. I grabbed the back of the long divan next to me to stop myself from hitting the floor.
I stood there for a moment, breathing shallowly. I was frozen into place with fear. What if the Knight had been destroyed? I knew I was being illogical, but the thought of losing my beautiful air vehicle was almost too much. I was afraid to know.
But I had to find out.
Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and visualized the sidewalk outside my office building. A moment later I came back to the physical plane with the smell of burnt wood in my nostrils.
I slowly opened my eyes and gasped. What had once been my office building was nothing more than a pile of rubble between the buildings hovering over it on either side.
One corner of the street-facing wall rose not too far above my head, its jagged edges still smoldering. It looked as if it would crumble to the ground if I touched it. At the back of the building, which was visible past the rubble, another partial wall rose a bit higher. Between the two ravaged walls was nothing but soggy, still-smoking rubble.
My gaze slid toward the iron gate down the hill. The entrance to the vehicle docking area beneath my decimated office building seemed mostly intact. I forced myself to walk toward that gate.
Touching my palm to the ID pad beside the massive iron gate, I peered through the blackened metal and felt my heart climbing into my mouth.
The docking area had escaped the ravages of fire from the building above, but it hadn’t been so lucky avoiding the fall of debris. Huge chunks of metal and wood made entering the space nearly impossible. I pulled my power forward and pushed it into the debris, sending it to the side as gently as I could.
The spot I cleared gave way to more debris.
I couldn’t even see vehicles on either side of the aisle due to the thick covering of wreckage. With a growing feeling of dread, I forged onward, moving slowly toward the spot where I’d left the Knight.
What I found there brought tears to my eyes. The Knight’s sleek red form was crushed beneath a massive metal beam, its shiny surface pocked and dented by rubble. At least one viewport was splintered, the unbreakable plastic infused with a thick spiderweb of destruction.
Dust lay thick on the Knight’s once shiny surface.
I placed a hand on the Knight’s flank and sighed, silently cursing whoever had tried to kill me.
I wasn’t much for owning stuff and didn’t get emotional about too many things. But a handful of things are important to me. Dialle of course, my family and friends, soft, buttery leather boots, and my once-sleek Red Knight.
I stood there for a moment with my hand resting on the victim, then dragged a large breath into my lungs and determined to take action. Pulling my power forward, I sent it carefully into the debris lying on the Knight and sent it flying, repeating the process until nothing but dust still encumbered my beloved car.
“Open.” The driver’s side hatch groaned softly for a breath and then creaked open. Sliding inside, I was happy to see that the interior of the vehicle seemed mostly intact. “Close and climb.”
I held my breath until the Knight was hovering above the debris-strewn surface of the docking area, its powerful engines sounding slightly sick but strengthening as it got its air legs under it.
I programmed Betty Davis’ home into the Knight’s flight computer and said a small prayer as it swung around and started for the gate.
* * * * *
The place was closed up and silent. No sign of anyone.
I cast my sensing power around the area and came up with no auras. Frowning, I reached for the door handle and found it unlocked.
I hesitated. Something didn’t smell right.
Reaching down, I pulled a long knife from one of my boots and drew my power forward. Fully armed, I slowly turned the handle and opened the door just enough to peer inside.
Nothing.
I allowed the power to seep from my fingertips and formed it into a ball in the palm of my hand, ready to fling toward anything that moved out of the silence. The power ball heated and sizzled quietly in my palm, providing some little comfort as the hair on the back of my neck rose and gooseflesh erupted all over my body.
I was probably just being paranoid. The recent experience in my office was making me jumpy.
My nose twitched from the scent of sulfur. That was all the proof I needed that something was amiss.
I slid along the wall of the hallway, my back toward the solid surface, and cast my sensing power around the place again. No auras. But the smell of sulfur thickened in the air as I moved more deeply into the Davis home.
As I reached the end of the hallway and rounded the corner, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and turned, launching my power ball into one corner of the room. It exploded against the wall and sent a flash fire skyward, extinguishing itself fairly quickly when it found nothing to destroy.
A strangled yowl preceded another flash of movement at ankle level. I took a deep breath as my gaze located the source of both the movement and sound. A fat orange cat slid along the baseboards, its thick fur standing on end and its short tail snapping with temper.
“Oops. Sorry, kitty.” I sucked air into my lungs and reigned in my paranoia a notch, feeling slightly ridiculous for having almost toasted a harmless cat.
I glanced around the space again, noting the softly swaying draperies and the cool wash of breeze across my skin. Walking over to the open window, I peered out, seeing a vast expanse of blue sky and wispy white clouds and not much else.
Betty Davis lived in the outer rim of one of the new skybound condominiums. Floating at thirty thousand feet above the Earth on solar-powered air platforms, her home was one of only a handful in the exclusive living community. The homes swayed gently on the air currents, making me wonder how they would fare in a storm. The biggest advantage of the place was the complete silence.
From my perspective, the biggest disadvantage of the place was the total lack of noise. It was creeping me out.
I turned away from the window and jumped, instinctively pulling my power forward. A river of green liquid crept across the slick wood flooring, heading right for my foot.
I pulled my booted foot out of the way and gathered another power ball in my palm. Following the trail to a spot behind a long white divan with bright red pillows, my nose twitched and bile rose into my throat.
Here was the source of the smell I’d noted from the hallway.