Demon Bound (38 page)

“Yeah. That sounds right. Is it Greek?”

“Yes, an old dialect. Someone said this to Alice?”

Jake nodded.

Hugh frowned. “Is she bound by a bargain?”

Ice slipped through him. Had Khavi told Alice something about the outcome of it? “Yeah. What was it?”

Hugh looked at Jake and sighed heavily. “They told her that because she does not fulfill her bargain, you will die.”

“Huh.” Jake called in a toothpick, began chewing. He worked the exchange through, considered alternate meanings. And every way he looked at it added up to the same thing. “That sucks ass.”

But Alice's reaction to the news had been pretty sweet. He clung to that thought, and followed Hugh inside.

 

For decades, Jake had only seen Hugh wear a monk's robe, so the bare feet weren't so unexpected. But seeing Lilith in cargo pants and a Hell's Angels T-shirt, sitting cross-legged on an ottoman and twirling spaghetti onto her fork, was like stepping into the Twilight Zone.

And it didn't help that as Jake stood through his debriefing, Sir Pup was sniffing at his jeans and rubbing his huge heads up and down his legs. But at least the hellhound didn't go for his crotch, and the wicked amusement in Lilith's eyes whenever she glanced at the puppy was familiar enough that Jake didn't feel compelled to teleport around, searching for a way back to his own dimension.

There was a long silence after he finished. Drifter stood in front of a large painting of Caelum, his thumbs hooked into his suspenders. Hugh sat on the edge of his blue sofa, his elbows braced on his knees, his empty plate in his hands. Lilith swirled the red wine in her glass, her expression thoughtful.

Finally, she glanced over at Drifter. “I'm waiting to hear the rest.”

“Well, there ain't much to add.”

“Did Michael even tell you half of that?” Hugh looked doubtful.

“All of it,” Drifter said. When Lilith's eyes widened, Drifter admitted, “I'm still working through my own surprise that he volunteered so much. And I'll tell you, not everyone was happy to hear that Michael is Belial's son.”

“I imagine not,” Hugh said dryly.

“And everything else Michael told us matches up to what Khavi told Jake. Michael didn't leave anything out.”

“Did he tell you anything
more
?” Lilith asked.

“Not much. I figure the only bit Michael filled in was why Anaria thought she'd wipe out an army.”

“Does it matter? She killed humans, and it wasn't in self-defense. We wouldn't give vampires any leniency if they did the same. We shouldn't the grigori.”

Funny to hear a former demon saying exactly what Jake thought—but since she did, he didn't have to. He shifted his weight, trying to ignore the nuzzling behind his knee. If Sir Pup started breathing heavily, nothing was going to stop Jake from jumping.

Jake hadn't even detected any scent coming from Lyta, but the next time he came back from Hell smelling anything like a female hellhound, his flippin' clothes were heading straight into an incinerator.

Drifter shook his head. “No, Michael wasn't explaining his decision—her killing them was reason enough for her execution. This was what came up regarding the question of why it was such a bad idea to have her take Hell's throne.”

Lilith's brows arched. “Because she's a psychopath?”

“That would hardly make a difference,” Hugh said dryly. “Hell has a long tradition of being ruled by one.”

Yeah. Being psycho was probably either a requirement for the position or an inevitability. “She wanted to make humans better,” Jake said. “I'm guessing she thought stopping a war would do that. And I bet she didn't intend to stop just one.”

“Was she a complete fucktard?” Lilith lifted a hand. “Don't answer that. Obviously, yes. But what did she think it would accomplish? Did she even choose a side, or just decide that killing off the enemies of one group would mean only friends were left, holding hands and singing?”

“According to Michael, that's exactly what she hoped would happen.”

Her mouth fell open. “I was joking.”

Jake fought the urge to jump when Sir Pup licked his hand. “That's because you're evil,” he said, shoving his fists into his pockets. “What's a joke to you is serious to someone who's all good inside, with marshmallows and roses coming out her ass.”

Lilith turned her dark gaze on him. “I forget sometimes why I like you, puppy. Then you remind me.” She used her wineglass to point at Drifter. “So Anaria decided to wipe out a random army to stop a war—and likely had some plan to stop
all
wars in the same way: by getting rid of one side, so there weren't any enemies left. Disregarding, for now, the sheer impossibility of that—what would be the point?”

“Seems her idea had two parts to it. First was getting rid of fear, desperation—whatever drives people to do whatever puts 'em in Hell.”

“Treating the symptom rather than the sickness.” Hugh pinched the bridge of his nose. “People are the cause of that fear and desperation, not just the reaction to it. She could stop wars, but she couldn't root out what drives people to fight—on a large or small scale. Everything might look better on the surface for a while, but human nature isn't going to change.”

“Well, that ‘better for a while' is what allows her the second part. For a while, maybe you've got less hatred and cruelty—and fewer humans heading down to the Pit.”

Lilith choked. “To weaken Lucifer?”

“That's what she figured.”

Jake frowned. “How's that work?”

“Burning doesn't just cleanse them, puppy. It leaves the . . .” Lilith rubbed the tips of her fingers together, as if trying to mold a word, a description. “Stain. The dark energy.”

She didn't look satisfied with that, but Jake nodded. “The ash. The evil shit that's left when the rest is released.”

“Yes. And that energy, that power, belongs to Lucifer—or whoever rules Hell. It allows him to shape his cities, to fortify his magic, to strengthen his lieutenants. It feeds him. So, when Hell runs low on humans, Lucifer isn't as strong.” She let out a short laugh. “Not as strong . . . but the difference wouldn't mean anything to most of us. But to a grigori, who he's taught to use magic, and who might be supported by the nephilim? There, maybe he's got something to worry about.”

“And so would the rest of us,” Drifter said. “Because the other half of that is, if she succeeds, that means there's someone on the throne who doesn't have to follow the Rules. And if
she
doesn't have to, then the nephilim don't. So she'd be getting rid of the Pit, freeing humans to live in Hell—and using the nephilim on Earth to keep more people from heading on down.”

Jake shook his head in disbelief. “It's the same flippin' thing Lucifer was doing with the grigori, except he was hoping they'd become asshole tyrants. But Anaria would be doing it for the people's own good—and instead of ten, she'd have a hundred.”

“More than that if she got around to creating new ones,” Drifter pointed out. “And with them, maybe no more wars, poverty—”

“No free will,” Lilith interrupted darkly.

“And that's the sticking point, isn't it?” Hugh said. “For Michael—and it is for me. How have those in Caelum responded?”

Drifter ran his fingers up and down his suspenders before just letting his hands sit at his waistband. Jake knew him well enough to see he was weighing his words—and was reluctant to say them.

“They're splitting along the same lines as they did when Michael told us Lilith would be in charge of SI,” he finally said. “There's some who don't question him. There's others who are uneasy and looking to see why and how, but are willing to accept his decision if it all works out to the good. There's some who just don't see beyond the ‘demon' part. And there's others I can't read at all and who aren't saying much. But the worrisome thing is: they're splitting.”

Hugh smiled slightly. “It is to be expected. But it does not necessarily follow that the division will be permanent; dissent and self-examination can make the corps stronger.”

“Eventually,” Jake said. “Now's a bad time for it.”

“I wonder if there is a good time.” Lilith set her plate on the floor. Sir Pup hopped over, cleaned it with single swipe of his tongue, and headed back to Jake's pants. “But I agree that our balance has been more precarious of late. Tell me, puppy, what do you make of the nephilim in Turkey?”

“I think I have no clue.”

“Well, shit. That's because my head's been filled with bargains and spiders since I saw you and Alice.”

Drifter held up a folder, and Jake vanished it. Immediately, he pulled the file out of his hammerspace and flipped it open to a map. On either side of a strait of water—the Dardanelles—seven points had been circled in red.

“Those are seven small vampire communities,” Drifter said.

A rock seemed to settle in his gut. “Wiped out?”

Drifter didn't need to answer that. “We got word three days ago. Michael's got a team patrolling, but those last two took place pretty much under their noses.”

“Actually, behind their backs,” Lilith said. “The nephilim broke pattern. They had been moving southwest along the strait. The next two were northeast, above the first community.”

Doubling back might have thrown Michael's team off the scent for a short time. But if the nephilim were avoiding the Guardians, it would have made more sense to leave the region entirely.

Which meant they had a particular interest in the area.

He looked at the movements. They'd started over, but in another direction. Backtracking wasted time and energy. That wasn't what he'd have expected of beings who were so efficient they could kill—in a single night—every vampire in a large city.

“What are they searching for?”

Lilith's eyes narrowed. “More vampires to kill?”

“Nuh-uh. If they were just moving through the region, they wouldn't start in the middle.” He'd bet anything that wasting the vampires was just something they did on the side. Out of frustration, for fun—or just because it was convenient. Like picking up a piece of litter not because you were cleaning, but because the trash can was right there.

Yeah. Searching, and although they didn't know exactly where to look they had a general idea of where to find it, because—

“Oh, fucking hell. The Scroll.” The nephilim had taken it from the burial chamber—a message, left for them. “Telling them where to find her. Or her sarcophagus.”

Hugh and Lilith exchanged a look.

“Anaria?” Hugh asked.

“Yeah.”

“You reckon she's in that last temple Zakril built?”

“I dunno.” Jake vanished the file again, linked his hands behind his head, and paced the room. Sir Pup followed him, sniffing. “Because that concealment spell doesn't work if someone's alive in it—and even locked in a coffin, she's still alive. And that's twenty-four hundred years of no one stumbling across the temple . . . or the ruins.” He stopped. “Unless it's underground. Another hypogeum.”

“ ‘She waits below'?” Lilith quoted.

“Yeah. Once Alice heals up, I'll jump over there with her, and we'll start looking.”

“And what do you do if you find her?” Lilith mused. “Is more than two thousand years in a box enough of a punishment? Should you free her? Or should you just carry out the execution?”

Just the thought of working through those questions made him uneasy. “I dunno. Chances are, I wouldn't know how to open the sarcophagus. And Michael . . . shit, he doesn't even know yet that Zakril lied to him.”

“I'd wager he does by now,” Drifter said. “He wouldn't be leaving Alice alone, not until he was sure everything was healing like it should.”

“Yeah.” Jake would rather have been with her, too. But instead of jumping to Caelum, he called in Khavi's scroll. “I need a favor, Lilith.”

“Are you certain you want to phrase it like that?”

Considering it was for Alice, he didn't mind being indebted. But Lilith had a point—and the anticipation gleaming in her dark eyes told him which way to go.

“I'll let you translate this prophecy . . . if you call your puppy off my leg.”

“Done.” She held out her hand for the scroll as Hugh laughed and gathered their dishes. Sir Pup flopped onto the floor with an unhappy whine. “And tell me about this bargain.”

Jake only hesitated for a second. Alice hadn't asked him to tell anyone but Drifter—but if anyone knew their way around a bargain, might find a loophole, it was Lilith. By the time he finished, Hugh had returned from the kitchen, a frown etched on his forehead. Lilith met Hugh's eyes and sighed.

“Teqon's got her,” she said, turning back to Jake. “The bargain is so straightforward, there just isn't any room to move.”

“So finding something to exchange is our best bet.”

“Yes. Or a threat that forces him to release her—but unless he has a compelling reason to release her without gaining anything in return . . .” Lilith spread her hands. “It's difficult to find something a demon cares about more than himself. He doesn't have a throne to lose—and you can't threaten his life, because slaying him doesn't free Alice.”

No, killing Teqon made it impossible for her to ever free herself. Jake scrubbed his hand over his hair, his mind racing. His chest ached; his gut was a lump of hot lead.