Demon Bound (37 page)

“Yep.”

Though he could have vanished the scroll from her hand, he closed his hand over the parchment, his fingers brushing her palm.

“Promise me,” she said. It was difficult to breathe, as if she'd been tightly laced into a corset. “Even if you find something that will free me, you will wait. And that you won't face Teqon alone.”

There was a question in the ultramarine glow of his eyes, but he only said, “And deny you the pleasure of kicking his balls in? Not in a million years.”

She nodded and continued to the square, pausing at the edge to assess the mood. Almost everyone was shielding emotions, but there were aggressive stances, uncertain expressions. Several Guardians surrounded Michael; half spoke with hostility, the others trying to calm.

The novices huddled together, signing quietly. Alejandro stood alone, as still as the column he leaned against, his dark eyes focused on someone across the square.

She followed his gaze, saw Selah and Ethan sitting on the steps to Michael's temple and Irena standing in front of them, impatience and anger in the taut line of her shoulders. The giant doors of the temple were closed, the frieze of Michael and the dragon carved into the marble unbroken.

Ethan met her eyes. Slowly, he unwound his long body from the steps and formed his wings.

Half of the Guardians in the square quieted and turned to look at him, then around to see what had captured his attention. Several gaped.

Perhaps she should have braided her hair.

“Do you think,” Alice murmured, “that Ethan is so tall on purpose?”

Before Jake could respond, Selah touched Ethan's hand and they appeared in front of her. Selah drew in a breath, gasped.

Ethan tipped his hat back, his mouth smiling. But there was something else—fear? relief?—in his voice as he drawled, “Well, sure it's on purpose. The air's a bit fresher up here.” His gaze moved to Jake. “We figured you must have gotten lost. Once Michael got done jawing, we were heading on out to find you. It would have been an awful shame if you missed your party.”

“Yeah, I can't think of anything much worse than that. Listen, Alice needs Michael to heal her.”

Selah vanished, reappearing next to Michael. Alice gave Jake her most withering stare, but he only gazed steadily back. Relenting, she looked away just as Irena pushed through the novices that had gathered around them.

She stopped, her nostrils flaring. “You were in
Hell
?”

The square fell silent.

Alice sighed. Her gaze locked with Michael's as he strode across the marble pavers. His healing Gift slipped over her, searching.

The ache in her shoulder flared. Alice gritted her teeth to keep from crying out against the unexpected pain.

In an instant, his eyes changed from amber to obsidian. “What was done?”

“Symbols,” Jake said. “Carved into her skin with your sword. Belial said they prevented her from teleporting out of Hell.”

“Then how did you return?”

Though his voice and touch were gentle, Alice hissed in a breath when his fingertips skimmed over the symbols. She saw Irena's eyes narrow into green daggers; they were, she thought uneasily, directed at Michael's back.

“We found a Gate. And Khavi.”

His fingers stilled.

“Who?” Irena asked, her voice sharp.

“One of the grigori. I briefly spoke of her; she is Zakril's sister,” Michael said, stepping back. His gaze didn't leave Alice's face. “I cannot heal this with my Gift. It has to be removed—and cleansed.”

Jake sucked in a breath. “Tell me you'll do it with water.”

“I cannot.”

Alice felt the blood drain from her face. She grabbed for Jake's hand, gripped it tightly—for support or to prevent his response, she didn't know.

“Perhaps,” she ventured, “we can wait until—”

“It is best done as soon as possible.”

Her chin lifted. “Very well.”

Michael's features softened. “Fortunately, you resisted—and so your body resisted it, as well. The sword pierced deeply into the muscle, but the corruption has not spread. Once it has been cleansed, it will heal naturally. A few hours at most.”

She nodded, and Michael turned, signaled to Alejandro. Alice glanced at Ethan, willed him to look at her. His face had paled, and she realized that Jake had been signing, telling the others either what had happened to them—or how Michael intended to heal her.

It must have been the latter. Her green eyes glittering, Irena jerked her head toward Michael's temple. “Come with me, Alice. I will prepare you.”

She finally caught Ethan's gaze.
Please,
she mouthed silently.
I don't want Jake to see me like that.

Facedown, again—possibly held down. Cut into and burned, again. She knew he felt responsible for the first; he would this, too.

Surprise moved across Ethan's expression. When he gave a short nod, she slipped her hand from Jake's, faced him.

Knowing it would appear false, she did not attempt a smile at Jake. “I hope you and Lilith will have good news for me when this is finished.”

His jaw clenched. “Yeah. I'll drop it off, then go back for it when she's done with the translation.”

Ethan came up beside her, and as she'd hoped, he bluffed his way through. “I reckon it'll take us longer than that. I'm heading there to tell Castleford what Michael had to say. I figure you can fill them in on your trip at the same time.”

“I will do the same here while I'm being healed,” Alice said. If she could speak at all.

Jake looked from her face to Ethan's. Not fooled, she knew, for an instant.

“Please,” she said softly. “The translation is important to me. And I would prefer if you were the one to explain to Ethan why it is necessary. I fear I haven't the courage.”

“Yeah, right.” Jake closed his eyes, and relief slid through her when he added, “All right, goddess. You need mice, too? More vampire blood?”

“Yes.” Dear heavens, Nefertari must be so very hungry. “And if you could stop by my quarters—”

“Consider it done.” He took a step back, then another. “If I can't jump when she does, you got any advice on how to get out alive?”

“Yes.” Now her smile was genuine. She laced her fingers together, so that she would not hold her hand out to him. “Run faster than Ethan.”

 

Michael's temple was not partitioned into rooms, but was an open space separated into living—and practicing—areas. Irena had already set up a sterile metal table amid a collection of mismatched furniture, carelessly tossing sofas and armchairs aside to make room.

Given that there was a large, open floor next to Michael's weapons display, Alice assumed that Irena had been one of those displeased by everything he'd revealed to them.

“Alice.”

She looked around to find Drusilla with her novice, Pim. For once, the Healer wasn't bobbing.

“We haven't seen an injury like this,” she said quietly. “Do you mind if we observe?”

“Of course not.” Alejandro, Michael, Irena. What were two more?

And how contrary she was, for now she wished that she had not sent Jake away. She'd convinced herself it was for the best, but after looking at the table, she thought that clinging to his hand might be best, too.

Just as he'd held hers when the demons had struck the wings from his back.

“Michael,” she said, and wondered if her expression was as cold as her voice sounded. Wondered if they could see the rage that lingered inside her. “Belial cut off his wings.”

She projected the image of Jake on his knees, and felt the dark touch of Michael's mind against hers.

The temperature did not drop, but Pim visibly shivered as ice speared from Michael's psychic scent.

“I will demand payment,” he said softly.

She nodded. Beside the table, Irena held up a robe of blue silk.

“Remove your clothes. It is better to ruin this than your dress.”

Alice pressed her lips together. Reluctantly, she began to unbutton the small fastenings at her throat.

Irena's gaze shifted to Michael and Alejandro, and she snapped, “Turn, the both of you. If you look at her, I will stab your eyes.” Her tone barely softened as she added, “And you as well, Dru. Pim.”

Alice's throat swelled with gratitude. Blast. She would
not
weep before a blade touched her flesh. She heard movement behind her, and when Irena appeared satisfied and closed her own eyes, Alice vanished her dress. After pulling on the robe, she climbed onto the table and lay on her stomach.

Irena called in a knife. “How much do you need to see, Michael?”

“A hand span around the symbols.”

Alice quickly braided her hair, pushed it to the side. Irena cut a large circle in the silk robe, exposing her shoulder.

Irena's fingers brushed her nape. “If you like, I will snap your neck, so that you feel nothing until your spine heals. Michael and Olek—Alejandro—will have finished by then.”

The thought of having no control over her body frightened Alice more than the coming pain. “No.”

“Take this, then.” A thick strip of leather appeared between Irena's fingers. “Unless you want to scream.”

She did, but not here. Not for this. She placed the strip between her teeth and bit down. From the corner of her eye, she saw Pim slide her hand into Drusilla's.

“Now be quick, or I'll kill you both,” Irena said over Alice's head. Irena kneeled in front of the table, met Alice's eyes. “And do not fear. If they
are
slow, I will give you his heart.”

Alice smiled around the leather.
Whose?
she signed.

Irena shrugged and took Alice's hands in her own. “Either one.”

 

Alice might have given him the go-ahead to spill the truth about her bargain, but Jake had a feeling she'd only pulled that out so he wouldn't argue about leaving her. So if she was still uneasy about telling Drifter, then it was better all around if Drifter figured it out for himself.

Halfway to Odin's Courtyard, Drifter broke the silence between them. “Teqon's got her bound, I reckon.”

“Yep.”

“She supposed to kill Michael?”

“Pretty much.”

“Meaning?”

“If she can find a way to give Michael's heart to Teqon without killing him, that'd get her out of it.”

“Son of a bitch.” Drifter shook his head. “She looking at the prophecy in hopes of finding something to exchange?”

“Yep.”

“And that's what you've got for translating.”

“I do.”

“She bargained to save her husband?”

Husband? More like a fucking crybaby. “Yeah.”

“So she figured herself yellow for not fighting.”

“Yep.”

Drifter swore again. After a few more steps, he looked over at Jake. “It sure is interesting that we ain't flying. Your wings broken?”

“Something like that. You in a hurry?” Jake wasn't. He had several hours to kill—through torture. His heart was back there with her, and the gaping hole in his chest widened with every step. His head was probably imagining something worse than reality. Just a little cut, a little burn.

Yeah, and if he told himself that enough, maybe at the end of several hours, he'd believe it.

“I don't reckon I am.” Drifter pulled his hat lower over his eyes. “She sent me a look at her spider. It stood damn near past my knee. There any chance she was fooling me with that image?”

“Nope.”

 

With all of the Guardians up in Caelum and the vampires sleeping, Special Investigations was quiet.

Jake stuck his head into Lilith's empty office and frowned. “Is it a weekend?”

Drifter nodded, looking queasy. Not just from the jump—Nefertari
had
been hungry. Mostly, Jake thought she'd been kind of cute, but Hell had put things in perspective.

A second after they teleported to Hugh and Lilith's house, Jake projected an image of the giant mama spider and her babies. Drifter was still swaying when a barefoot Hugh opened the door.

Tomato and garlic scented the air. From the kitchen, Jake heard water boiling, a sauce bubbling.

He'd forgotten that Hugh and Lilith
needed
food. But then, it was hard to think of them as human.

Hugh sized up Drifter, and smiled a little. “Hungry?”

“I don't reckon I'll eat for another century. You ever seen a giant tarantula hunt down a few itty-bitty mice?”

“No. Perhaps Lilith has—although I doubt what she saw hunted mice.” His gaze swept over Jake. Hugh's expression didn't change, but Jake sensed a new tension in him. “I don't need to ask if it was difficult.”

Because it was Hell, or because Jake looked different to him? “It could have been worse.”

Hugh nodded. “Alice was with you?”

“She's up in Caelum now.”

“And you want to return soon.” He stepped back, gestured for them to come in. “I'll get Lilith.”

“Okay—No, wait. Hugh.” He frowned, dragged through his memory. Khavi, standing in front of them. His arms wrapped around Alice. The painful dread that had flashed through her psychic scent. “Before I forget . . . what does this mean?”

Hoping he didn't screw it up, he parroted the first line Khavi had spoken to Alice, the one that had sent despair crashing through her.

Hugh's brow furrowed, and he echoed the words a few times, changing inflections until Jake nodded.