Stranger at the Hell Gate (2 page)

She laughed. "And I guess you did."

"Yeah. I really need to find a new butler. Enzo." Jagger cast a stern glare at his partner before continuing. "So, you make a habit out of taking on quests from complete strangers?"

"What did I have to lose? All I knew for certain was what I am. They said you were…just like me."

Jagger leaned forward over the chair. His thick silver hair slid over his eyes, hiding them. "A half-breed."

She knitted her brows. "You don't sound happy about it."

"Hard to be happy when you get the worst of both worlds." When he lifted his head, the mask was back in place. "So I'm like you, huh. Your daddy a demon, too?"

"Not exactly. He was human. My mother is slightly more ethereal."

He scowled at her. "Ethereal? Funny word for a demon."

"But completely appropriate for Seraphim."

"Oh, shit." Jagger went rigid, every muscle seeming to bunch and ready.

Fight or flight. Sonya suspected this was the first time there was an equal likelihood of either one. She reached out and patted his arm. "Not in the least. I'm quite at peace with it."

"If you were at peace with being one of…them." She noticed he couldn't even say the word
Seraphim
. Funny how the mythic rules still held. "Why come looking for me?"

"They said you were the only one who could stop the pain."

"Pain." He chuffed out a sardonic laugh. So much in that sound. "I don't stop it. I cause it."

"I know." She lowered her gaze. "I saw it in my dreams."

"You dreamed about me?"

She nodded, her cheeks warming. "Yes."

"Then you know what I do." He crossed his arms and lowered his chin.

"Without doubt." She raised her eyebrows. "You are either selfless or reckless."

"Aren't ya scared? What if I go bat shit on you and carve you up?"

Sonya bit her lip. She's seen him handle a weapon, so she was no physical match for him. Even if she called upon her Seraph strength, she might get a head start on a run, but that was all. Her powers were not suited toward battle, or even toward defense. She was a healer. Healers were terrible fighters.

And yet…her instinct kept her seated. Kept her confident. There was something about him she trusted, despite his unholy heritage. "You won't."

"How do you know?"

"Look at me." After a moment, she cleared her throat. "A little higher, please? Look into my eyes."

When Jagger's eyes locked with hers, she pulled herself down into him, seeking the secrets of his soul.

He swayed on his seat, jaw slacked, lips moving but no sound emerging. After a moment of contact, Sonya severed the connection and withdrew from his essence.

Wouldn't do to burn him alive. Not polite, especially after how hospitable he'd been.

"Did you—what—" Jagger knuckled his eyes and shook his head as if he had water in his ears. "Did you hear something?"

Sonya knew he wouldn't remember the seraphimic touch but she'd never forget how it felt to look down into him. See him, see what even he couldn't, or wouldn't. She knew him now. It took all her strength to resist reaching out to him. "You can only help me. I trust you."

Jagger hung his head and groaned. "How do I get myself into these jams?"

She smiled, clear and sunny, and, with a mental touch, encouraged him to disregard what she'd just done to him. "Maybe you're just lucky."

As he stood, she allowed herself a lingering glance, making sure he didn't notice.
Maybe we both are.

DEMONS

He fixed her a bed on the couch using bedding from the old apartment upstairs. He didn't often go up there, except on the occasion that something got in that wanted killing and ran upstairs. It's not like Jagger needed a home. He didn't even have a real life.

A call had come in sometime after full dark, a call that would have paid well. The agent eyed Jagger and eventually declined the job. Enzo left soon after, warning Jagger to stay in and keep an eye on her. It was a bad town to be harboring an angel.

As if he needed to be told. Jagger had a bigger job on his hands. Demons, he understood. Angel…that was way different.

For the first time in—how long? Jagger spent the night playing video games, slaying imaginary demons instead of the real ones that prowled through the world, seeking the ruin of souls and the end of their captivity in hell. Lucifer wanted to rule this dimension. No way would Jagger let him take it without a fight.

And it was a wicked fight, one that felt like a never-ending game of tug-o-war. The whole mess would be so much easier if Lucifer fought his own battles. But, no. He'd enlisted the help of a man who was equal to Jagger in nearly all aspects.

Acheron.

Acheron wasn't an ordinary Captain of Hell, not by a longshot. Trouble was, Acheron—like Jagger—was human-born. That chunk of mortality gave him a permanent anchor in this plane. Gave his master a permanent advantage.

The captain had a real knack for opening hell gates. Portals to hell. Allowed demons to come and go as they please.

That's where Jagger came in. Just as Acheron was dedicated to bringing his asshole buddies through the hell gate, Jagger was equally determined to send them back.

Or destroy them. Either way was fine. Every time a demon got loose, a call from a terrified citizen came in and off Jagger would go, sword in hand. Demons, especially lower-ringed ones, could be more than an annoyance—some of them caused serious physical damage. The worst jobs, though, came when Acheron decided to get off his proud ass to join the fray.

Acheron matched Jagger, swing for swing, blow for blow. Sometimes, it was just to distract Jagger from the other demons. Other times, it was like he just felt like sparring with someone who could actually fight. Jagger guessed Acheron got bored, too.

Every once in a while, though, it seemed like Acheron wanted to do more than spar. He wanted Jagger dead. Times like that, Jagger could see the frustration leaking through Acheron's cold, cocky veneer.

What a dick.

Acheron and Jagger were at constant odds. As fast as Jagger would shut down one portal, Acheron would open another, and it would start all over again. As long as there were humans around, willing to pay for exorcisms and demon exterminations, Jagger would continue making money.

So, yeah. Business was real good for a hunter of his skill. What a pain in the ass that was.

The woman stirred on the couch, rolling over and making a soft noise deep in her throat. He paused the game, holding his breath, until he was sure she settled again. She made a delicate curve under the blue blanket, her blonde hair glimmering in the unsteady light of the television screen. It would be a long night.

Jagger bit back a curse when the words GAME OVER flashed upon the screen. Everything about his life seemed to be a game, a constant contest between him and Acheron. It would only end when one of them was dead.

Jagger had definite plans for that. All he needed was a split second of advantage. It was hard to get the jump on someone who moved like your mirror reflection.

He nearly dropped the video controller in disgust. Killing virtual demons was definitely more aggravating, especially when you couldn't yell at the game for cheating.

Sometimes, a sword was so much easier.

ANGELS

"So. Three days." Sonya leaned over the railing. She found heights thrilling and boundless and was grateful to Jagger for showing her the roof top. "I walked, mostly. Rode when I could. Didn't sleep. Stopped long enough to eat."

"Couldn't tell that. You polished off that pie fast enough."

"What can I say? I like anchovies." She grinned over her shoulder at him where he reclined on a battered chaise.

He shaded his eyes with the bend of his arm. Such white skin. He didn't get out in the sun much, did he?

Sonya reached out a hand, feeling a high breeze brush through her fingers, remembering "Sometimes I'd be on a street and I wouldn't know how I got there. Like I just came out of a daze. I have so few memories of the last couple of years; what little I had kept looping over and over."

"I thought your kind spent eternity living in a happy cloud somewhere."

She cast a playfully stern look at him.

"Truthfully, my home was kind of like that when I was young. I had honestly planned on following in my mother's footsteps as a healer. I even had my choice of temples narrowed down to my top three." She turned and propped her elbows on the rail, leaning on them. "Then, something happened. I was…recruited, I guess, although I never knew exactly what for."

Sonya shrugged. "I'm Seraphim. We're obedient to His Will, no questions. No
need
to question. I just went, and—well, next thing I know, those monks were there, telling me to trust my instincts. And those dreams—I suppose I was sleepwalking. This stone guided me. Whenever I wondered if I was on track, it would spark, and somehow I knew."

"Is anything chasing you?"

"If there is, I don't know it."

Jagger curled to sit upright and hunched, elbows on his knees, for a moment before getting up and dragging the lounge to the shady side near the door. She didn't blame him. Leather clothing trapped heat and, so far, that was all she'd ever seen him wear. He must be baking.

"Is there any kind of threat if you failed?" Jagger asked.

"You mean, such as the world falling to Hell's dominion? That's what it feels like. But, there is something in my head driving me. Telling me to find you before it's too late." She turned back to the breathless expanse of city behind her for a few quiet moments. "I thought I found you yesterday. The stone got really bright and hot. It wasn't dawn yet, and I was so tired. At first, I was relieved."

His expression, easier to see now he wasn't hiding his face under his arm, gave nothing away. She didn't expect it to. "But then, I got a very bad feeling. Whatever was out there wasn't supposed to find me. So, I hid. Some old church, I think, from the way it felt. When the sun rose, the stone quieted, and I ran."

"Where were you?"

"The first person I saw after that spoke Jontu."

Jagger chewed his bottom lip. "You said the stone responds to the blood of Tallon."

She nodded. "Mmm."

"Anything else?"

"No, if they told me the truth. That was the first time it lit."

"The closest town that still uses Jontu is eight days away. You sure—"

"The street signs were in Jontu."

"Well, that pretty much settles that. No other towns are daft enough to use that language if they have a choice." He crossed his arms and tilted his head back, watching her with narrowed eyes. "Eight days away. And that was yesterday? How did you—"

She shook her head. At this point, she didn't care how she travelled. Magic or curse, she'd endured those types of things all her life. "More importantly: who?"

He didn't reply. Instead he rubbed his mouth and stared past her, unblinking.

It made her wonder if there was something behind her and she fought the urge to duck. After a moment, she realized he was looking more to his insides than to the outsides behind her. "Hello?"

"Hmm?" Jagger blinked.

"I thought you zoned out on me."

"I'm fine. Just thinking."

She leaned back against the rail and crossed her arms, hugging her ribs. "What were you doing yesterday?"

Jagger shook his head and scowled. "Wasn't me, if that's what you're thinking."

"Then who?"

Jagger sighed and rapped his head against the frame of the chair, hard enough to make her wince. "My brother."

Her mouth gaped a moment before she reclaimed her voice. "You have a brother?"

"He's a dick. I don't trust him, and I don't keep track of him."

Definitely not good news
, she thought.
They hadn't warned me about another son
. Smoothing her expression, she nodded. "That would explain the compass lighting."

"Explains a lot of shit." He curled to his feet and wiped his damp bangs from his forehead. "Let's go in. This heat feels too much like the rim of Hell to me."

DEMONS

Usually he passed this part of the day sleeping for lack of anything better to do. Although his body didn't need sleep—and despite never resting easily—sleeping beat having a regular day job. "You said I could 'ease your pain.' What kind of pain?"

She opened the steel door with a smooth pull that surprised him. He never doubted seraphimic strength. It was just weird to see it at work in a skinny girl.

Without turning around she started down the steps. "Have you ever been haunted?"

"Can't say that I have."

"Well, the closest I can come to describing the pain would be to say it's the same feeling a ghost would feel when it's ripped out of its body. Something is missing and there is a hollow place and there's a strong chance the next thing to come along to fill it up will be very, very bad."

"And you feel like that a lot?"

She paused on the steps but didn't look at him. "All the time."

"I don't know how someone like me could fix that. I'm not a good person."

Turning, she looked up at him. The light pouring in through the doorway made her clear skin glow. "Why do you say that?"

"I kill. I don't think twice, I don't feel bad, and I sleep just fine. Well, maybe not sleep. But you know what I mean."

"Who, exactly, do you kill?"

He shrugged. "Bad guys."

She smiled, that dazzling flash that blinded him a little. "Then you're a good guy by default."

"You keep telling yourself that."

"I'm not the one who needs convincing."

Her weighty gaze made him uncomfortable. It wasn't the kind of look he was used to getting. The softness of it rubbed the raw edges of his personal space. Jagger motioned for her to continue down the stairs, just so she'd stop looking at him. He definitely wasn't used to this sort of scrutiny.

"Right, right." Enzo glanced over at Jagger and scribbled a few notes. "I'll call you back."

Jagger didn't even look away from the television screen. "Let Ionis take it."