A Shot in the Dark (32 page)

Of course. It
had
been a foolish question. I’d known the answer before I ever asked it, and I expected nothing less of him.

The weird thing was, in all the years I’d known him, I couldn’t think of a single time Axel had ever lied to me. Ever since he made that comment on that dark road, I’d tried to think back, wracked my brain to find a single instance. He omitted, yes. He evaded. But he’d never told me a straight-up bald-faced lie. And I had no idea what that meant.

“Hey, Jesse? Hold still while I try something, okay?”

Against my better judgment, I held still.

With a puzzled tilt to his head, Axel reached out and pinched my biceps
hard
.

“Ow!” I yelped, and reflexively socked him in the chest, hard enough to make him grunt. Then we both kind of stared at each other.

It was the first rule, the one inviolable rule that governed what we, as champions, did. A demon could not harm a human without that human’s permission. That was the whole point of the contracts, of the bartering souls. It was the thin line of civility that protected us, the humans, against them, the demons.

But my arm hurt, and was going to bruise. He’d hurt me. And I’d hit him back with no mystical repercussions. “What does that mean, Axel?”

“I . . . don’t know yet. But I’m going to find out.” The fact that even Axel was flummoxed bothered me more than anything else. Before he faded out of view, he reminded me, “You owe me a favor, champion. Don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

Yeah. That. I had to wonder just how that was gonna come back and bite me in the ass later.

Cameron hadn’t left town, of course. Big jerk. And as far as I knew, he was still dating Dr. Bridget, which was pretty high on my “not happy” meter. Still, it was handy to be able to ask him to dig through the Order’s Library of Books Not Accessible to Mere Mortals. (I slay me, seriously.)

He found no trace of anyone named “Architect.” No demon, no spirit. No angel either. Whatever Axel was, he hadn’t been documented. Which meant he was either nothing notable at all . . . or he was some serious badass shit. I was starting to suspect it was the latter.

I couldn’t help but think about what Axel had said. I had known the Yeti’s name, and for whatever reason, that was threat enough for him to try to kill me. How many other names were swimming around in my brain? In my four, almost five years as a champion, I’d had fourteen challenges. More than any other champion in the same time period. Granted, two of them were with the Yeti, but that still left twelve other demons with some kind of special grudge against me. I needed to find out about this whole name thing, and fast.

I also knew that Handless was still out there. I suppose it was possible that she hobbled off into a hole and died, but . . . deep down, I knew better. She was out there, and she was something I’d have to deal with eventually. I entered everything I could remember about the Yeti’s minions into Grapevine, so that any other champion who might run into them would have a fighting chance. I told them about Handless. I wouldn’t be the only one looking for her now.

Ultimately, I could only take Axel’s advice, scary as that was. I went on. Estéban kept taking lessons with me, sparring in the rain and the early-autumn snow. Mira renewed the protective spells on the house, and on all of our friends whether they wanted it or not. When my neighbor’s mastiff had another litter, I took one of the puppies for Annabelle. Marty’s Duke had proven invaluable against the Yeti and his minions. I wanted that kind of protection for my daughter.

He was a cute little fawn-colored thing, all paws and floppy ears. Anna named him Chunk.

Jesse James Dawson Novels

by K. A. Stewart

A Devil in the Details

A Shot in the Dark