Authors: Caitlin Kittredge
Jack sat on the steps and lit a cigarette. He could get used to this—magic in the daylight, creatures out in the open, people like him living in the human world like they should instead of living with one foot in the daylight world and one foot in the stuff of nightmares.
“Spare one of those?” Belial flopped down beside him, looking pressed and polished and utterly, utterly slagged off.
“Well look at you,” Jack said, passing over the last of his crushed pack. “Aren’t we a sight for sore eyes.”
Belial lit his cigarette with Jack’s proffered lighter and pulled a face. “These human brands are like sucking on a candy stick. Horrible.”
“You enjoying yourself?” Jack asked. “Seeing everything all topsy turvy?”
Belial shook his finger. “Don’t avoid the subject, Jack. You didn’t give me that blade.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “You threatened me. You couldn’t even use it, anyway. And I did your job for you, so by the by, you’re welcome.”
Belial turned to Jack, and his expression was as stony as any of the gargoyles, dead as any of the zombies all around them. “I don’t take this sort of thing lightly, Jack. We may all be neighbors now, but there is still a food chain, and I’m still the big bad wolf.”
Jack exhaled his last drag and scraped out his cigarette on the granite next to him. His virgin lungs protested a lot more than the ones he’d spent decades torturing, and smoking no longer held its masochistic joy. “See, that’s the thing,” he said to Belial, when he’d dragged out the action long enough that the demon looked like he might be about to have a cardiac event. “I don’t think so.”
Belial’s teeth flashed. Jack glanced back at the hospital. If this went wrong, at least they were near an A&E that was rapidly gaining experience dealing with demon attacks.
“Explain to me exactly why I shouldn’t rip your balls off and make a tasty carpaccio to feed back to you,” Belial said, voice as silky as the cut of a good razor blade through a willing wrist.
“Let’s see.” Jack ticked on his fingers, hoping as hard as he could that Belial wouldn’t simply cut his losses and kill him. His brief brush with immortality had worn off, and now he was just sore and painfully alive. “Hell’s only barrier is the Gates. The walls are down. Anyone can breach the Gates, from either direction, and I bet that you lot are going to be busy with revolt for the next, oh, say, five hundred years.” He gave Belial a smile. “Elementals don’t like being your slaves, Belial. Handy tip. Not to mention whatever science projects Azrael has tucked away,
plus
that prison holding Abbadon and his buddies has got to be pretty shaky by now, and I’d say that even if you
wanted
to take this Legion mess out of my hide your hands are already full.”
“Don’t test me, Winter…,” Belial started, but Jack held up a finger.
“Shhh, darling. I wasn’t finished.” He reached into the pocket of his coat, which Pete had grabbed when they’d started cutting off his clothes on the plaza. “Also—and this is the important part—you fucked up, Belial. You went against the Princes, misguided as they might be. You stole from them, violated their vaults, and made them look like fools. I’d say the chances of them treating you like a friend at this point are, oh, zero.”
He pulled the key to the Gates from his pocket and held it up. “You have two choices, Belial, the way that I look at it. You can get all hot and bothered and try to get your pound of flesh, or you can walk away into this brave new world, keep that human suit on full time, and sample what the new deal has to offer.”
Belial threw down his cigarette and stood up, glowering as he loomed over Jack. “Are
you
actually bargaining with
me
? That is
pathetically
hilarious.”
“Not bargaining,” Jack said. “Telling. Those are your choices, and these are your consequences: You walk away and you don’t take to eating babies, and I’ll let bygones be just that. I’ll forget what you did to me. I’ll do my best to forget what you are.”
Jack stood, toeing up to Belial. He had a good inch on the demon’s human form, and he gave Belial a stony look as he held up the key. “You ever come at me again or try to worm your way back into the Triumvirate by screwing me over, and I will use this on you. I’ll deliver you to the Princes’ doorstep in gift wrap, and I’m telling you, Belial, I won’t be the one they’ll have words with.”
He tucked the key back into his pocket and folded his arms. “What do you say, Belial? Do you think we can be friends?”
Belial sucked in a breath. His nostrils flared, and Jack could count every one of his shark teeth, could feel his slender body as it vibrated with rage. “Go to Hell, Winter,” he finally spat, spinning and storming down the steps.
“Already been there!” Jack shouted. “And I’m going to want my lighter back, one of these days!”
Belial shot him the bird and kept walking. Jack sat back down, his knees feeling a bit more liquid than they had before. But it had worked. He’d backed off a demon. First step into a brave new world.
Jack tossed his pack into the bin and went back inside to wait for Pete. If this was the world, he could get used to it.
Two weeks to the day later, Jack stood glaring at Morwenna Morgenstern over the bonnet of her Bentley. “Keep staring,” she said, curling her lip at Jack. “Maybe I’ll do a trick.”
“That would be far too much to hope for,” Jack said. He watched Margaret give Pete a hard hug and kiss Lily on the forehead before she picked up her backpack and suitcase and slumped toward the car.
“Do I
really
have to go back with them?” she asked Jack. Jack sighed.
“You need real traning, luv, and after what happened it’s too much of a mess here. You need to be safe, and much as I hate to admit it, these tossers will do a decent job of that.” He returned to glaring at Morwenna. “Or they better, if they don’t want me foot up their arses from here to eternity.”
Morwenna gave a delicate shudder. “That literally sounds worse than actually going to Hell and being tormented by demons, Jack.”
Jack grinned. “Going to Hell isn’t so difficult these days. One could arrange it.…”
Morwenna jerked the back door of the Bentley open. “Get in, dear,” she said. Margaret rolled her eyes, but she hugged Jack and climbed aboard while Victor loaded her bags.
“I won’t let them turn me into a posh twat like her,” she whispered before the car pulled away. Jack patted her on the shoulder.
“You’re going to lead all of us some day, kid. Stay in school, drugs are rubbish, they’ll tell you dabbling in black magic isn’t allowed, but it can be a lot of—”
Morwenna cut him off. “That’s
quite
enough goodbye from you, Jack.”
Margaret gave Jack one more wave before the Bentley pulled away, and Jack felt a pang deep in his gut. “Please tell me we’re doing the right thing,” he said to Pete, where she sat with Lily on the stoop.
“Sending the future Merlin to a place where she can’t be kidnapped, eaten by zombies, or possessed by a demon? Yeah, just a bit,” Pete said. “It’s the best thing, Jack. Grandmother on my mum’s side was sent to the country during the Blitz. This is the same principle.”
Jack watched the Bentley disappear around the corner, zigzagging to avoid potholes and police cordons, and tried to tamp down his misgivings. Margaret needed a real teacher, not someone like him.
“Come on,” Pete said. “Let’s go inside. I’ll put the kettle on, assuming we have power today.”
Jack followed her upstairs and settled on the sofa with Lily while Pete bustled around the kitchen. His daughter cooed, smiling up at him. “Look at that face,” Jack said to Pete. “Going to be a heartbreaker, just like her mum.”
“And a hellion, no doubt, like her da,” Pete said.
“No possible way,” Jack said. “Our Lily is going to be an angel.” He grinned at his daughter as she grabbed for his hands and whispered. “Be a bit of a hellion if you can. Life’s more fun that way.”
“Oi, I hear you filling her head with ideas,” Pete said. “Don’t you go thinking just because I was law and order I’m going to be the bad cop.” She brought them tea and put on a Miles Davis record that had belonged to Connor. Jack let the music play uninterrupted as the sun went down and spits of rain coated the window glass.
The flat had mostly survived the riots and the subsequent cleanup unscathed. He’d boarded over a few of the windowpanes, and there had been some smoke damage from a fire next door, but they’d been able to go home within a week when half of London was still largely homeless.
“You know,” Pete said, taking Lily from him as she began to fuss. “You’d think it would be more different.”
“More how?” Jack said, raising his eyebrow.
“I mean, worlds
literally
merged,” Pete said. “The Black fell on top of the daylight, and Hell floated up to the surface like some bloated corpse in the Thames. Magic exists now, in the world as everyone knows it. But everything out there is just a bit mussed. I don’t understand it.”
Jack shrugged. “Humans are survivors, luv. I mean, plagues, fires, wars, disco music—they can stand up to a fuck of a lot of punishment and carry on.”
Pete looked out the window, rocking Lily gently. “What do you think is going to happen?”
Jack had given that a lot of thought since he’d gotten out of the hospital. The Black was still there, ever present against his skin, but it felt less menacing somehow, like a monster that’s terrifying as a shadow on the wall but only mildly bothersome when you drag it into the harsh light of day.
He could still do magic, but then again so could about ten thousand other blokes in London who’d suddenly discovered a scrap of latent talent that hadn’t been able to cross the old barrier. Which might be a good thing, since 666 demons and their assorted rent boys were waiting just out of sight beyond the Gates to surge up and turn the world into their buffet. That is, Jack thought, if they ever stopped fighting each other in the chaos wrought by Legion.
“You know,” he said, “for the first time in a long time, Pete, I think we’ll be all right. Life rolls on, is what happens. It’ll be interesting, and sometimes I think it’ll be fucking awful in a way it’s never been before, but it’ll be life.”
Pete considered this and then nodded. “I can live with that,” she said, giving Lily a kiss and standing up to take her to her crib.
Jack heard a thump on the sill and hurried to the glass, opening the pane and looking out into the rain. He locked eyes with the Fae balanced on the top of the burned-out flat block across the alley for just a moment before the thing flitted away.
The noise had come from a smooth, flat piece of stone etched with the tri-horned sign of the Faerie King, and below it a sprig of rowan bound in black thread.
“What is that?” Pete said, and Jack jumped. Sometimes he really wished the Morrigan had left him that handy unflappability that came with being dead to human feeling.
He shut the glass and showed her the tablet. “It’s a death note,” he said, running his thumb along the rough edge of the stone. “The Faerie King has put a price on my head. This is their way of being polite and giving me a day to get out of town.”
Pete raised an eyebrow. “Fae? Threatening us?”
Jack nodded. “I’m guessing he’s not too happy about me spoiling his little alliance by killing his best pal Legion and, you know, dropping the barriers so any old human can find himself trespassing in Faerie.”
“After all this,” Pete sighed. “You’d think we’d get a break. Just for a moment.”
Jack dropped the death threat on the side table and put his arms around Pete. She smiled at him, sliding her arms around his waist in turn, slotting them together like they’d been made for that purpose. “Like you said: interesting life we’re going to have.”
Jack dropped a kiss on Pete’s forehead. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Also by
CAITLIN KITTREDGE
BLACK LONDON SERIES
Street Magic
Demon Bound
Bone Gods
Devil’s Business
Soul Trade
NOCTURNE CITY SERIES
Night Life
Pure Blood
Second Skin
Witch Craft
Daemon’s Mark
Acclaim for Caitlin Kittredge’s Black London series
“Takes supernatural shadows to the next level. Kittredge knows how to create a believable world, and her fans will enjoy the mix of magic and city grit.”
—
Publishers Weekly
“Crackles with conflict and perilous magic … For those who love their urban fantasy hypnotically treacherous, this book’s for you!”
—RT Book Reviews
“
Street Magic
jumps right into nonstop supernatural action, taking urban fantasy fans on a wild ride.”
—
Darque Reviews
“This is a dark, visceral read that sucks you in and doesn’t let you up for air. That is part of my intense love for this series … It hit all my buttons: ghosts, magic, demons, cemeteries, England, moors, fog, supernatural creatures, ancient deities. The way things ended, I am seriously anxious to see what is happening next. Go out and get this!”
—Night Owl Romance
“Sensual and empowering.”
—Romance Junkies
… and the Nocturne City novels
“
Pure Blood
pounds along hard on the heels of
Night Life
, and is every bit as much fun as the first in the series. With a gutsy, likable protagonist and a well-made fantasy world,
Pure Blood
is real enough to make you think twice about locking your doors at night. A swiftly paced plot, a growing cast of solid supporting characters, and a lead character you can actually care about—Kittredge is a winner.”
—Jim Butcher
“I loved the mystery and the smart, gutsy heroine.”
—Karen Chance,
New York Times
bestselling author of
Claimed by Shadow