She leveled an inscrutable gaze on him, as if he weren’t as good at hiding his thoughts as he hoped. “My questions, answered or not, never resulted in consequences that dire.”
“Not before they didn’t.” He pulled on his boxers and jeans, then turned to face her. “Look at me. Tell me what you see.”
She studied him. “Muscles. Chest hair.”
“Look deeper.”
“Sweat. And a hickey that the demon is already healing.
I’ll have to suck harder next time. If there is a next time.”
His breath caught. “Sera,” he said warningly, “what do you see past that?”
“A coldhearted bastard? I don’t know. What am I looking for?”
“My soul.”
The gentle curve of her lips, a half smile, teased him. “Do I get to see that along with the rest?”
“If you were djinn.” That extinguished her smile. “Djinn and angels can see souls. The teshuva lost the ability with their eviction from both other-realms.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I have no idea what’s in your soul.”
“Good.” He finished dressing, brushing mulch off his trench coat. He’d tossed it aside without a single coherent thought. Well,
Get naked now
, might have gone through his head, but not the head that counted. Muttering, he checked the stowed axe. No more potentially fatal mistakes tonight.
When he turned back, Sera was also clothed, her coat balled in her lap. “So no euthanasia?”
“You still think I would?”
The faintest hint of color rose in her cheeks. “That’s not why I said yes.”
“You didn’t say
yes
. You said
now
.”
Her blush flared higher. “I’m liberated. Possessed, but liberated.”
“This is a good time to be alive,” he said with proper seriousness.
And surprised himself with the truth in his words. Another decidedly lethal turn in his thoughts. If anyone was in danger tonight, it wasn’t her.
In the lazy air, the scent of sex hung close. He took a few steps away to lean against a tree, leaving the daybed to her. But even from that careful distance, he still saw her swollen lips, the redness at the joining of her slender
neck and shoulder where he’d set his teeth. His fingers itched to run through the tousled blond strands, where sweat and friction had knotted curls into her hair.
What had he done?
He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud, if softly, until she speared him with a glare. Her senses were sharper, thanks to the demon. He’d have to be more careful. Now. He snorted to himself, determinedly silent.
“It’s over then?” Her tone was more demand than question.
The words stung. “So it wasn’t mind-blowing for you too?”
Her previous blushes paled in comparison to this one. “I meant this possession of mine.”
“Ah. That.”
“That. The reason we’re here. The reason why we . . .” She gritted her teeth on whatever words threatened. “That was the reason we did it, right?”
He shifted. “We had to do something. I’ve never heard of a demon and its chosen dancing on the edge of the Veil so long and not ending up with a corpse and an unbound demon in search of another soul.”
She nodded, as if eager to explain away the night. “You said the chosen has to be rooted in this realm or risk being drawn into the other when the demon ascends. What better than drinks, dancing, and sex?”
“Usually it’s a lot of beer with whiskey chasers, a game of pool, and a fight in the parking lot.” When she wrinkled her nose, he shrugged. “All other demon-ridden have been male. And bloody knuckles have a way of reminding you what this world is about.”
“So it is done?”
He narrowed his eyes. “The
reven
, the sign you are possessed, is on you. With the demon bound to your flesh in this realm, you don’t need to fear being sucked back into hell.” As she’d said, only that danger had brought them together in the first place. “But you still
have to master your changed senses, hone your abilities, test your limits.”
She bit her lip, bringing back the color. “So, not done?”
“Did you think you’d just walk away again?” A spurt of anger sharpened his voice more than he intended. They were talking about her deal with her demon, not what had happened within the confines of the daybed. “If you had died tonight, your soul would be forfeit. That still holds true. Like your demon, only in the fight can you hope for salvation.”
She flinched back with each pronouncement, and he realized he’d advanced on her, his voice rising with each step.
He rocked to a halt. Slowly, he reached out and wrapped his finger through the cord of her necklace. The stone spun, secretive and mute, as defiant as its bearer. “But the choice is yours. Just as when the demon first approached you.”
She pulled away. Despite the marks of loving still on her, shadows stalked behind her hazel eyes. “And you are just another demon offering me damnation and worse.”
If he hadn’t checked the axe, he might have wondered if it had sprung open to jab him in the gut. Just as well the alleged talyan bonding had faded into myth. “Welcome to worse.”
“Your promises have come to naught.” Corvus struck the flint in front of the torch. A blue-white flame flared to life out of the invisible propane. “The demon is not djinn.”
The Worm squirmed, as worms were wont to do. “Entirely unexpected. The signs all indicated—”
The sinister hiss grew louder as Corvus widened the flame. “I’ve grown weary of your signs. Battles fought by signs are only won in ballads. Crappy ballads.”
The Worm flinched.
Corvus held the tip of his finger to the flame. The black marks peeking out from beneath both sleeves flared yellow. The Worm sucked in a breath, then gagged at the stench of burning flesh.
Just right. Corvus balanced the torch in a vise and reached for two thick glass rods. So many small acts before the final effect.
In the same way, he’d insinuated his final plan into the dreams of the pharmaceutical researcher and the executive. He’d barely called on the confusing miasma of his djinn-infused aura to charm them. With just a few suggestive words, he’d opened a path to the center of their souls and bent them to his need. One man lusted for immeasurable wealth; the other longed to be a hero. Together, they spread a spiritual plague through the city. The world would come to curse those early unwitting carriers of doom, but at least a few innocents would be spared the coming annihilation.
Well, not actually innocent, and not spared, precisely. But their deaths would be kinder than what lay ahead.
He softened both canes in the flame and spiraled the transparent black into the matte. Dark and darker, like his endless servitude. How appropriate the crow had come to him as his last work in the darkest days of all.
The Worm cleared his throat. “Actually, the strain of the demon changes nothing.”
Corvus tipped his head. “True, nothing ever really changes.”
“A complication only.” Eagerness rose in the Worm’s voice. “The league has its newest talya well guarded, but the weakness in the Veil remains. Our work doesn’t require informed, or even willing, participation.”
“You should know,” Corvus murmured. More loudly, he said, “True again.”
“My formula for the chemical
desolator numinis
performs exactly as we wanted. Soon we’ll have the critical
mass we need to punch through the Veil.” The Worm straightened. “So our agreement still holds.”
Corvus put down the glass. He took up the ring he’d laid aside and slipped it over his finger. “Why do you covet it? You cannot cozen the demon’s power for yourself.”
The Worm’s gaze fixed on the ring. “Of course I can.” His hands jerked at his sides, as if he reached for something just beyond his grasp. “The power, channeled through human flesh, is just that: power. Neither good nor evil, nor repentant.”
Corvus stroked his thumb over the smooth stone.“Are there more twistings to you than I knew, my Worm?”
If the Worm even heard the name Corvus had given him, he didn’t object. “Once we have the siphon through the Veil in place, we can focus the etheric energy however we wish.”
Seeing the glint in the Worm’s eye, Corvus tilted his head. “Such grand plans.”
“Damn right,” the Worm snapped.
Just as well he’d never been tempted to share his ultimate intent, Corvus thought. Seduced by the prospect of power the Worm might be, but still too small to appreciate the terrible might that, once unleashed, would free them all.
Damned indeed.
“We still need the talya and her teshuva to mark the flaw in the web of souls. And soon,” Corvus warned. “My
desolator
army is nearly complete.”
“And our next opportunity could be decades away.” Impatience overrode the last of the Worm’s trepidation, and his writhing fingers stilled into clenched fists. “I’m already working on it. She’ll have no place else to go and no time to balance the demon’s energies. Once we have her, I can trace the link through her teshuva to the demon realm and place the tap in that weakened point in Veil. I’ll get—we’ll have everything we need.”
“I have faith.” Corvus smiled.
The Worm smiled back.
When he had gone, Corvus returned to his glass. With each translucent layer, the disquiet in his soul sunk deeper out of his awareness, leaving him floating free of the murk. The Worm could never understand. Corvus doubted even the white-hot tip of the torch was bright enough to enlighten the man.
Meanwhile, he basked in a glow of satisfaction. He’d always known this day would come.
The playwrights of this era shied away from deus ex machina conclusions. The Greeks had loved the practice of actors, masked as the gods, descending from wires overhead to make their long-winded proclamations and neatly wrap up their complicated morality tales. Today’s playwrights found such a finish too unlikely, maybe even disturbing.
They didn’t believe that overwhelming, unearthly forces would come down and end their play.
Little did they know.
He found himself curious about this new demon-ridden warrior. He’d never bothered with the skulking talyan and their paltry teshuva, too fainthearted to reach for their desperately sought-after release. They should thank him for hastening their conclusion. But this one was powerful, the Worm said, and a female. Perhaps he needed to see this oddity.
He took his high spirits down from his tower into the streets. His passage rippled out in waves of frenzied darklings that would feast well before morning’s light.
No sense letting the talyan get lazy now. Their teshuva hadn’t much longer to repent.
Archer paused on the sidewalk in front of the refurbished old hotel, when Sera halted, staring up. “Betsy said it was almost a full moon.”
In the early-morning sky, the wan moon hung between
the angular spears of the hotel’s Gothic crenellations, a fragile bubble over a field of needles. “Who is Betsy?”
“A nurse where I work. Worked. She told me the crazies would be out.”
“Not knowing she’d be talking about you.” The inadvertent cruelty of his words made him wince. “Never mind.”
“Demons.” Sera shook her head. “She’d probably find comfort in finally hearing an explanation for all the suckiness in the world.”
“Working with humanity wasn’t explanation enough?”
She dragged her gaze down from the sky. “What the hell is your problem?”
Hell. He didn’t answer.
She scowled, the pale moonlight in her eyes eclipsed with violet demon glow. “I thought you brought me here so I could learn how we fight to save the world.”
“We’re fighting to save our souls,” he reminded her. “The world is collateral damage.”
“Collateral salvation, you mean.”
“Guess that depends whether anybody survives.”
She shook her head, blond hair sifting over her shoulders. “Are all the other demon-ridden like you?”
“God forbid.”
Archer didn’t turn around at the voice behind them. “Will you set her a better example, Ecco?”
Zane stepped up on the other side of them. “We’re just getting off the hunt—worst ever, I gotta say—but Liam said to wait for you.” He turned to Sera. “Your honor guard, ma’am. I’m Zane.”
She murmured some appropriate response. Ecco did not introduce himself.
Archer put himself between Sera and the two men. “Emphasis on the guard?”
Zane ducked his head. “Niall said you weren’t exactly sure. . . .”
Ecco growled. “Thought we might have to take her out. Since you couldn’t.”
“You might try.” Sera smiled sweetly, but Archer, his demon ascending at the hinted violence, felt the sudden race of her pulse. From the curl of her fingers, he knew the fierce rush of the demon rose in her too. “Unless you’re no better at the wet work than the undercover detail. Maybe you should stick to doll making.”
Zane choked.
Archer smirked, his demon subsiding. “Shall we go up?”
Zane jumped forward to swipe his entry card at the door. The heavy glass etched with the @1 insignia swung open with a dull clang, and they filed in.
Archer almost bumped shoulders with Ecco as the other man tried to fall into place behind Sera. Their stares clashed. After a heartbeat, Ecco gestured him ahead, lips twisted with insincerity.
Archer narrowed his gaze, then stepped past, following Sera through the retro Metropolis lobby.
The elevator rose thirty-five floors in strained silence.
Archer glanced over at Sera. She’d been looking at him, but her gaze slipped away before he could do something—take her hand, coldcock Ecco, something—to reassure her.
Zane cleared his throat. “I remember the first time I met the league, with a mischief-class demon newly embedded in my soul.” He pitched his voice as if he spoke only to Sera, although of course they all heard. “I was piss-myself scared, sorry to say.”
Sera gave him a fleeting smile. “Seems reasonable.”