Blessed by a Demon’s Mark (6 page)

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Authors: E. S. Moore

Tags: #Speculative Fiction

BOOK: Blessed by a Demon’s Mark
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Ethan rose right along with me. “Do you think that’s wise?” he said. “You should probably stay here until Jonathan gets here. He might know more.”
I glared at him. “No,” I said. “If someone is looking for me, then I’m going to be the one to take care of it. No one else needs to get involved.”
“At least let me summon Beligral for you.”
My gaze flickered to Jeremy, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by the mention of the demon’s name. Maybe Ethan had already told him about what he did in his lab at nights.
“I don’t have time,” I said. “Tell him I’ll get around to him soon enough.” I rubbed at the spot behind my ear, hoping the demon would wait.
“He won’t like it.”
“Tough shit.”
I started for the door but stopped. I couldn’t go out dressed as I was. While I might fit in with the normal populace, I would feel sorely underdressed without my leather. And there was no way I was going to do this without my weapons.
I turned toward the stairs and took them by twos. I headed straight for my bedroom, not bothering to close the door behind me as I shed Sienna’s clothes. I opened my closet and removed my hunting clothes. I held the leather for a long time, nervous about putting the bloodstained clothes on again, but decided it was the only thing I
could
do.
I couldn’t go out as Kat Redding. It had to be Lady Death.
I got dressed as quickly as I could. As soon as I was dressed, I paused, feeling as though something was missing. It took me a moment to realize I no longer had a long black coat to throw on over everything. I cursed under my breath but didn’t let it stop me.
Ethan was waiting for me in the basement. Jeremy was nowhere to be seen. A sword, as well as my belt with two knives hidden in sheaths built into the leather, waited for me on the table. Beside both was one of my modified Glock 17s, already in a shoulder holster.
“You’ll definitely be needing these,” Ethan said, smiling despite the trepidation I heard in his voice.
I couldn’t help but return the smile as I began strapping on my weapons. The sword would be obvious without my coat, so I left it on the table. As much as I hated going without it, it would draw too much attention. I could wear the heavy coat Sienna had bought me to conceal the shoulder holster.
Within minutes, I was ready. I’d thought putting on my old things would feel strange, but I felt oddly at home. I never realized how much I missed having the comforts of my weapons close against my body. If that didn’t say what kind of person I was, then nothing would.
“I’ll be back soon,” I said.
Ethan nodded and remained downstairs as I headed up the stairs to grab my bulky winter coat. It didn’t quite match the rest of my outfit, but it would serve well enough.
I double-checked to make sure I had everything, took a deep breath, and then walked out the door.
6
Despite my agitated state, a wave of serenity passed through me as I pulled into The Bloody Stake parking lot. While it might not be the safest place in the world, it was surprisingly one of the few places I could go to relax and forget my troubles, though tonight I was there for another reason entirely.
The bar still looked the same as the last time I saw it. The flickering neon lights in the windows, the grime that covered most of the outside, the big moving sign with a woman repeatedly staking an overdressed vampire, they were all indications that no matter how much everything else had changed, Bart Miller never would.
I parked just inside the lot, as far away from the trash bin as I could get. It reeked of stale beer and garbage left out too long. I could smell it even from the road. The smell completed the image that The Bloody Stake was as sleazy as they came.
Of course, an image was all it was. Inside, the floor was cleaned regularly, the tables were always polished. The chairs and booths were comfortable and sturdy. The subdued light kept the atmosphere calm, or at least as calm as it could be when hungry vamps and wolves were sitting at a table next to a likely victim.
And that was part of the charm of the place. Danger lurked around every corner, and yet the danger typically behaved itself here. To do anything else was to invite a quick and painful death.
I crossed the parking lot, feeling self-conscious in my heavy coat. I doubted anyone would care what I was wearing, but still . . .
The doors opened without a sound and Bart’s eye immediately fell on me from where he stood at the bar. He looked like a street brawler, thick all around, with a scar running down the right side of his face. He had a limp that I noticed was a little more pronounced than usual. I wondered if there had been a fight while I was away.
I took a quick glance around the room. I’d seen most of the patrons here before, but I didn’t know their names. People didn’t come to The Bloody Stake to socialize. You could sit down and talk, sure, but to give someone your name was just asking them to track you down and eat you later.
Mikael Engelbrecht sat at his usual table. He was talking to someone, which wasn’t too surprising. He was a snitch who did his business from the same booth every night. I’m not even sure he ever moved. I don’t even think I’ve ever seen him get up to go to the bathroom.
Usually when I came in, he was fingers deep in some young thing, and I mean that literally more often than not. It was pretty disgusting, yet no one else seemed to care. Mikael had his own sort of charm, albeit a greasy, slimeball sort.
Tonight he wasn’t with one of his girls, which meant he was working. I was sure the girls were somewhere nearby, waiting for him to be done so they could cozy up next to him again.
I went to the bar to wait for Mikael to finish his business. If I wanted to learn anything about who was hunting me, Mikael would know. Aside from the wolves at the Luna Cult and Ethan, no one but Mikael knew who I really was.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Adrian Davis, the Luna Cult defector and all-around pain in the ass, did. He was the only one I didn’t trust not to talk. But he
had
kept my identity a secret before when it would have benefited him to give me up, so there was still a possibility he had yet to blab.
Bart had a beer ready for me before I even sat down at the bar. He held it back while he looked me up and down. I let him, not wanting to cause any problems. Bart was one of those guys you didn’t reprimand or refuse if you wanted to come back to his establishment. He did things his own way, and I didn’t begrudge him for it.
“I didn’t expect to see you again,” he said, low enough so that I was the only one who could hear. He set the beer down and pushed it toward me.
I gave him a smile and took a sip from the bottle. It felt good going down. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed just coming to the bar and sitting.
“I missed this place.”
Bart didn’t return the smile. In fact, his usual glower deepened. “Can’t say I missed you.” He glanced over my shoulder as if someone was there, but when I turned to look, no one appeared to be paying us any mind.
When I turned back around, Bart was standing at the far end of the bar, pointedly not looking my way.
I grumbled to myself and continued nursing my beer. At least he hadn’t thrown me out. I’d caused enough trouble in his bar in my time. It had never been quite enough that it would earn me a shotgun blast to the head, which was Bart’s usual way of dealing with trouble, but I’d been asked to leave more than once. It was only a matter of time before he told me not to come back.
Still, it bothered me that he’d dismissed me like I no longer mattered. Bart and I were never really friends, but we had that sort of relationship that spoke of mutual respect. He might not know who I was, but he knew
what
I was, and he never once held it against me.
I checked on Mikael a few times as I drank. He was still talking to the man, a slimy smile spread across his face. He hadn’t noticed me yet or he would have motioned for me to wait. I was sure he would want to talk to me after I’d been gone for such a long time.
My eyes passed over the guy he was talking to, not really taking him in. I couldn’t even hear a murmur from his booth. They had to be talking in near whispers for me not to hear even the slightest grumble.
I shook my head and returned to my beer. It was none of my business anyway. If Mikael caught me looking and thought I was trying to eavesdrop, there was no telling what he would do. He took pride in keeping things between just him and his clients. He would never sell anyone out as long as they were lining his palms with green.
I wondered if he’d kept my secrets safe over the last few months. He could easily have decided I was dead and started sharing what he knew to those willing to pay. I just had to hope he had more faith in me than that.
I finished my beer and tapped the bottle against the bar to get Bart’s attention. He frowned my way, seemingly irritated at having to serve me, but he retrieved a fresh bottle. He set it down in front of me and scooped up the empty in one quick motion. Before I could say anything, he was back across the bar, pretending he didn’t know me.
I just about threw the bottle at him. He could be unhappy about me coming around, fine, but I wished he wouldn’t make it so clear to anyone who bothered to notice.
I was so busy sulking, I never noticed the man Mikael had been talking to had gotten up and left. I was glowering down at my beer when a hand gripped me by the arm and someone whispered harshly in my ear.
“What are you doing here?”
I immediately grabbed for the hand holding me, but caught empty air. I flew off the stool and spun around, hand going to my waist. Drawing my weapons in The Bloody Stake would get me killed almost as fast as I could unsheathe the knife, but instincts had taken over.
Mikael stood a good three feet away, staring at me. The entire bar fell silent, anticipating a fight. I think most of the patrons came to the bar in the hopes of seeing someone lose their head.
“What the hell?” I said, easing my hands away from my knives. I glanced back at the bar to see my beer spilling out on the countertop. I must have knocked the bottle over when I’d jumped up. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
Mikael frowned and looked around. Everyone shied away from his gaze and went back to what they were doing as if they were afraid to have him acknowledge them. Maybe they were. Mikael might have dirt on every single person in the room, and most people wouldn’t want their indiscretions to get passed around.
“Let us sit,” he said, turning his back to me. He returned to his booth and sat down, looking far more concerned than I’d ever seen him.
I brushed down my coat where he had touched me. I was surprised he’d reacted so fast. A normal Pureblood would never have been able to pull away in time, yet Mikael had managed to avoid my grasp and flutter back a few steps before I could fully turn around. The weaselly man was a lot more agile than I’d ever given him credit for.
I made my way over to the booth and slid in across from the Swede. He was fidgeting, which wasn’t like him. Usually Mikael was completely composed, ready to deal. He always seemed to be in complete control of the situation, and yet, somehow, I’d thrown him off his game.
I didn’t like that at all.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Everyone is treating me like I have the plague, and I want it to stop.”
“Close enough,” he said. “I really wish you wouldn’t have come here, my sweet.” He looked around the room, scanning as if he was worried someone would see us together.
“I really wish people would stop saying stuff like that.” I took a deep breath. “What’s going on?”
His eyebrows rose and he stared at me like I must have gone completely batshit. “Don’t you know? How could you not know?”
“Know what?”
He ran a hand through his hair. It came away greasy and he absentmindedly wiped it on his shirt. He grumbled something Swedish before switching back to English.
“You are a wanted woman,” he said, leaning forward. “If anyone knew I was talking to you, it would be my head.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. “Hasn’t it always been that way?”
His frown deepened. “Of course, but it is much worse now.”
“Is this about whoever is looking for me?”
He cocked his head to the side. “So then you know?”
“Not enough.”
“Obviously, or you wouldn’t be here.” He sighed. “You should have stayed dead.”
I ground my teeth. “I wasn’t dead.”
“Then in hiding.”
“I wasn’t hiding either.”
Mikael huffed and shook his head. “Whatever you want to call it, it was better that you were gone. You can’t fight this. Maybe you should go away again, my sweet. It would be better for everyone.”
“Just tell me what’s going on so I can fix it.” I really didn’t like where this conversation was going.
He looked like he was going to say something rude but changed his mind at the last second. He took a deep breath and puffed it out, making his lips flap. He gave me a quick smile, letting some of the old Mikael show through.
“All debts are paid, okay?” he said, assuming a businesslike manner. “You owe me nothing anymore.”
“Okay,” I said, my heart plummeting. Did this mean he was cutting ties with me? Without Mikael’s information, I would have been dead years ago. And if he thought he was going to sell what he knew about me the moment I walked out the door . . .
“No,” he said. “I am not planning on telling anyone about you. It would not be good for me if some of the powers-that-be knew I had been feeding you information. Enough suspect already.”
I grunted.
“But I don’t want you coming back here. At least not until this blows over, if it ever does. I have a feeling you will be dead before you are clear of this.”
“How about we stop all of this talk about me dying, okay?” I said, growing more and more agitated. “Just tell me who’s after me and what I can do about it. I’m tired of everyone telling me I need to go hide away somewhere.”
He closed his eyes and remained quiet for so long, I was starting to think he might have gone to sleep. Finally, Mikael opened his eyes and stared directly at me. It felt like he was dissecting me, bit by bit, churning through my every memory, my every thought.
I couldn’t help it; I looked away.
“Her name is Countess Baset,” he said. “She was once the head of a Royal House, but something happened and she fell down the ranks. I don’t know what caused her fall and I don’t care. Baset is still a Major House, an extremely dangerous one. No one messes with her and survives.”
The name was familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I’d known all the names of the Major and Royal Houses before, but things often change, new powers come into play, and they all had started to meld together in my head.
But to have once been a Royal House and to have fallen without being destroyed was a major accomplishment. Normally, a House that high up would need to be destroyed before they’d ever settle at becoming something less than they once were.
“You
must
be aware of the danger,” Mikael said. “She is not to be trifled with, yes?” He looked at me pleadingly. “You must leave, must not come back. Countess Baset
will
kill you, and everyone you have ever had contact with will suffer.”
“Why is she after me?” I asked, firmly. I was
not
going to run away. I’d run enough already.
Mikael stared at me long and hard. The music blaring over the speakers drowned out the other conversations around us. No one was paying us any mind and I was really starting to wonder if it was natural. You’d figure someone would be curious once in a while. Even I hadn’t paid much attention to the guy Mikael had been talking to earlier. Hell, I couldn’t even remember what he looked like.
“Listen to me, Lady Death.” Mikael spoke slowly, as if he was desperate for me to understand exactly what he was saying. “You cannot win this.”

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