Hell's Gates (Urban Fantasy) (7 page)

“Thanks,” I whispered. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I probably wouldn’t have been able to push Sam away. I would have given in, welcomed him into my arms, and that wasn’t something I could afford. Not with Bry in danger and the town fucked. I couldn’t afford to be distracted.

Papa Al grunted and yanked me into a tight hug, releasing me as quickly as he’d snatched me close. I followed him into the bar. “Before your fallen boy showed up,” he spoke to me over his shoulder. “I got a call from Helene. She’s sending Finn over to check your taps.”

“Good.” And that’s all I said for a while. Me and Papa Al didn’t really have to talk much to be comfortable with each other. He said it was the wolf thing. Wolves were just happy to be with packmates. They didn’t have to go do weird activities or field trips to be happy.

Yeah, he hadn’t signed many permission slips when I was a kid. Not that the idea of permission slips was around in the 1400s, but if they
had
been a thing… he wouldn’t have signed ‘em.

The worst of the damage was cleaned up by the time Papa Finn got to the bar, dowsing rod ready. I gestured to the line of kegs behind the bar, along with the bottles of liquor that’d survived. “Check it all. I don’t know what it could be. Best to be safe.”

Then I waited while he waved the dowsing rod around, checking everything twice. Then he ran the tap water, just to be sure. Hell, he’d even checked the toilet water to be thorough and… nothing.

What the ever loving fuck?

“Nothing here.” He shook his head. “You might want to have the filters on your taps replaced, but that’s bacteria, not demonic.”

“Great.” I groaned and dropped my elbows onto the bar, propping my chin on my hands. “I would prefer it to be in the booze. At least then we’d have a lead.”

“We’ll find something soon.” The pat on my shoulder from Papa Finn wasn’t reassuring in the least.

I huffed, taking a break for a little pity party, and then walked my fathers out. I threw the bolt, brushing my fingers across the lock to seal the wards and added a hint of hellfire to be safe. At this point, I’d called on so much fire, I might as well enjoy it. My moral stance was gone and I needed to be alive to help Bry.

I strode to the center of the bar, staring down at the scarred concrete. “You know, Uncle Luc, now would be a
great
time to show up with an explanation or two. Maybe a little intel. You know, something that would help me keep your nephew
alive
.”

Once more, no answer. Nothing psychic or otherwise from the devil. Which flipped one of my “shit’s about to get real” triggers. The imp from last night had clearly known something, and there was no way a pussy
imp
would know something that Lucifer didn’t. Except, that was the feeling I had coursing through me. I didn’t know what that meant, but I knew it wasn’t good.

I dug in my pocket and tugged out the card Killian Howe had given me. With everything that’d happened, I’d forgotten my brief encounter with the devil’s advocate. Killian’s presence didn’t make sense, either. Why would Uncle Luc send a
lawyer
but not answer my summons?

I flipped the card over, scanning the number on the back. If I couldn’t talk to the Lord of Darkness, then his lawyer would give me some damned (heh) answers.

K
illian’s office
was pretty swank; a big assed building with a string of names gracing the door (including Howe), valet parking, and pretty little secretary who asked if I wanted coffee or water. I’d already scared the hell out of the valet attendants with my rust bucket, so I figured I’d just keep to myself for now.

Although, if I was still in my experimental phase and unmated, that secretary looked mighty fi—

“Lesbian siren,” a deep voice came from my right and I held onto my composure by a thread.

I didn’t jump or jolt with the sudden presence, and I slowly panned my head until I met Killian Howe’s gaze. “Excuse me?”

He tilted his head toward the secretary. “She’s a lesbian siren. It’s why you were eyeing her like a steak even though you have a mate.”

I wanted to rip the smarmy smile off his face. Literally.

Instead, I remained quiet, not responding to his knowing chuckle either. Fucker.

“If you’ll follow me…” He turned and strode off, leaving me still staring at the lesbian siren who apparently pushed all of my sexual buttons.

Shaking my head, I went after him, following him into his office and settling into a chair across from the desk.

Killian was as impeccably dressed as before, custom suit fitting him perfectly, and the office was so lavishly decorated I was sure the Prince of Vanity in Hell itself must have been responsible for the design. The desk was constructed of black marble veined with gold, the walls were hung with priceless art, and there were more than a few pieces I was sure had been acquired on the black market. Even the bottled water he offered was one of those brands that was stupid expensive. I didn’t touch it, Bry’s illness still fresh and unending.

“So,” I leaned forward and propped my elbows on his desk, making sure I left smudges. “Killian, I’m super not in the mood for games. Why don’t you lay it out for me nice and simple, m’kay? Who are you—
what
are you—and where the hell is Uncle Luc?”

Killian shook his head with a laugh. “You really
are
a spitfire, aren’t you?” He tsked. “No time at all for common courtesy? We’re in the tween, girl, not sitting in front of your uncle’s throne.”

The rest went unsaid. He wasn’t going to answer because he didn’t
have
to. He answered to Uncle Luc.

I cleared my throat. “I see. Maybe I didn’t make myself clear.” I reached back and drew one of the swords from its sheathe and carefully laid it across the desk, tip pointing right at Killian. “You’re right,” I nodded. “We’re not sitting by Uncle Luc’s throne. We’re in Orlando, and that’s where I keep
my
throne.” Which I was so gonna order online once this bullshit was handled. “So, you’re going to cooperate, or we’re going to have some serious issues. M’kay?”

He laughed. The asshole mother fucking fuckhole actually
laughed
at the sword. There weren’t many creatures—On High, in Hell, or in the tween—that would laugh at a threat from Satan’s niece.

“Please, sweetheart. You might have Lucifer’s blood, but
I’m
the one he sends to handle the dirty work.” His eyes flashed and for just a moment, I saw the dark void at the end of eternity hovering within those dark globes. The emptiness there sent a shiver down my spine, and there weren’t many things that could shake me like that.

“Fine.” I kept the word short and clipped. I kept a straight face, body relaxed yet tense at the same time. I didn’t want him to see how he’d gotten to me. Though, based on his satisfied expression, he knew I was on edge around him. “You want me to play nice? Then,
please
, Killian will you tell me where I can find Uncle Luc?”

I threw up in my mouth a little bit.

It grated my last nerve to be nice to the man, but I was quickly approaching the end of my rope and he was my last lead.

He tilted his head, small smile in place like he was laughing at me. “Your uncle is unavailable at this time. That’s why I’m here.” He leaned forward and mirrored my position, still ignoring the sword pointed at his heart. “To serve as his proxy and offer you any assistance you may need.”

“Then why won’t you give me a straight answer?” I slammed my hand onto the desk, marble groaning, making his paperweights and pen holder jump. “I’ve got serious shit going on here, and I need to know who’s responsible.”

So I can cook them for dinner
. Not
my
dinner. Jezebeth’s pet gators hadn’t had fresh meat in a while.

“Tsk, tsk.” He shook his head, letting out a sarcastic, impatient sigh. Yes, sighs could be sarcastic. “You’re so young. Your uncle warned me, but it’s so easy to forget.”

I gave him an annoyed look, but it didn’t seem to faze him at all.

He touched the tip of my sword and nudged it out of the way with one finger, leaning forward even farther. “The answers you receive, my dearest Caith,” –
gag
—“can only be as enlightening as the questions you ask.”

“Seriously?” I raised my eyebrows. “Like, for reals? You’re going to go all Yoda-sphinx bullshit on me?” I narrowed my eyes, trying to see through his garbage answer. “What the fuck kind of circular bullshit is
that
?”

He folded his hands and gave me a bland stare. “I’m your uncle’s attorney, Caith. And yours, by proxy. I’m here to offer you my most sound advice, but if you want information, you’re going to have to work with me. There are procedures.” He spread his hands wide as if to say “not much I can do, kid.” I would show him a procedure to take my foot and shove it up his ass.

I took a deep calming breath and fought to relax. I didn’t have time to play twenty questions.

“Look.” I rose from my seat. “You get a happy little message to Lucifer. I need to see him,
now
, and I need answers about what’s going on in my town,
now.
Something’s up and it’s Hell related. I know it, he knows it, and I’m getting sick of playing these games.”

And Uncle Luc said
I
was immature.

“Caith, wait…”

I spun and stalked from the office before Killian could say another word. I was on the verge of razing the office to the ground, just to make a point, but I restrained myself.

Not because I was rocking respect, but because the lesbian siren might get hurt.

I stormed out of the building, not stopping until I’d climbed into my car, Jezze waiting for me in the passenger seat. She arched an eyebrow in question, but I just shook my head. There was no point going into details when all the bullshit came to nothing.

I swung a U-turn and headed toward Momma R’s so I could check on Bry with my own eyes—feel his skin beneath my hands. He’d been doing well enough since Sorsha’s visit, but even though he was stable, he was still having those agony-laced fits. And his fever, contained by the spells, still hadn’t broken.

Half way there, traffic slowed to a stop, a long snake of cars crowding up the road. I propped by elbow on the windowsill and glared out the windshield. Sometimes I wanted to raise the flames of Hell and cut a swath through the city. It’d cut down on the population and lessen rush hour traffic. If I timed it with tourist season, I could handle overpopulation for a good hunk of the globe all at once.

Definitely something worth thinking about.

After a few more minutes of not moving an inch, I got antsy, wolf hating being locked up in a moving box. “What the hell?” I snarled and rolled down the window. I leaned out, trying to see what was holding us up. “If you idiots are fucking rubber necking because of construction, I swear to On High I will rip someone’s spleen out.”

A few drivers up ahead laid on their horns and a human voice rose above the others—New Yorker through and through. “Hey, kid! Get out of the damn road!”

Frowning, I got out of the car and headed up the street, winding my way between cars.

“Caith, what is it?” Jezze called after me, but I ignored her. I broke into a jog, hurrying forward until I could see what the problem was.

I finally reached the cause of the jam. The traffic stopped in front of an elementary school. A few dozen kids wandered around the asphalt, some shuffling on the sidewalk, others moving in front of the cars. A couple dropped to their butts in the middle of the street, small arms wrapped around their stomachs.

And fuck me, they all had that same glassy-eyed daze as the patrons back in the bar. The same daze that still covered Bry’s features.

“Shit,” I muttered and looked at the school. I wished I had Papa Finn here with his dowsing rod. In the meantime, I had to deal with these kids.

I didn’t even want to think about what was going on inside that school. If these kids were wandering around without any kind of supervision… My gut tightened.

One of the drivers waved an angry hand out the window, shouting. “Hey, stupid kids! Get the hell out of the road!”

See, now that I was a mom, I took issue with people cursing at children. It was a thing.

I walked forward, pausing beside the asshole’s truck. I gripped his middle finger, bending it backward until he was crying like a little bitch. He struggled, fighting to get free, but that wasn’t happening. I smiled widely, not wanting to frighten the kids if they happened to look over. “Lay the fuck off, asshole. They’re just kids.”

I released him as quickly as I’d captured him and left him there, cradling his injured hand. I got to corralling the kids and moving them out of the street. I tried to get them headed in the same direction, but I wasn’t sure if I’d gotten them all.

As soon as we were out of the way, traffic went back into motion and it wasn’t long before Jezze drove up and parked along the curb. She got out and helped me get the kids to safety, making sure no more wandered off.

Jezze stopped short and stared at a kid still standing behind the chain-link fence that surrounded the playground. “Chris?”

I stared at the boy. He looked to be about twelve, just old enough to be getting into trouble, no doubt. He looked about as dazed as the others, but there was a little something else in his expression. He wasn’t as out of it as the others and he was watching them with a frown.

Something in the tilt of his head and angle of his jaw itched at my mind. Jezze and I approached him.

“You know this kid?” I nudged Jezze.

“Sort of,” she nibbled her lower lip. “Remember that guy I dated a while back? Jacob?”

I snorted. “Yeah. Human. What were you thinking dating a human? Really?”

She shrugged but didn’t respond. She was still more than a little pissed at me for banning dems, no exceptions. She understood, but that didn’t mean she had to like it and blah, blah, blah…

Me banishing dems meant that Jezze’s thelac demon boyfriend couldn’t stay. The leader of her ex’s clan then decided that staying in Florida was pointless and off the thelacs had gone. Long distance loving hadn’t worked for the couple.

“Whatever,” she mumbled. “Anyway, Chris is his little brother.”

We nudged the last kid into the playground area and headed toward the preteen.

“Chris?” Jezebeth spoke softly. “Hey, kiddo, remember me? You okay?”

He stared at her, expression vague and unfocused. “I didn’t mean it.”

That sent a frigid chill down my spine and I fought to keep my voice as soft as Jezze’s. “Didn’t mean what?”

He lowered his head and stared at the ground. “Nothing.”

Uh-huh. I stared at the other kids. Some teachers had finally come out when they realized there was something going on and were herding them back into the school. No doubt parents would be called, children would be shuttled home, and no one would know what was wrong with them.

I reached out and pressed a hand to Chris’ forehead… hot. Scorching almost. “It’s the demon juice.”

Jezze paled and grabbed Chris, pulling him after us as we left. “Come on, kid. Let’s get you home.”

I wasn’t going to comment on the fact that we were kidnapping a human child.

We got into the car and Jezze buckled the kid into the backseat. He stared out the window in a daze, muttered words pouring from his lips. “Jacob’s gonna be mad. You won’t tell him, right?”

I gritted my teeth. He could be talking about breaking all of his crayons in art class, or he could be talking about the illness spreading through the city. My money was on the illness.

“Tell him what?” Jezze grabbed Chris’ face, staring into his eyes, but he wasn’t focusing. “Chris, what did you drink? Was it the water?”

His head lolled to the side, drool dribbling from his chin. She snapped her fingers in front of his eyes, but there was no response.

“Let’s get him home.” I nudged Jezze. “Maybe his brother knows something.”

I climbed behind the wheel and soon we were back on the road, now heading to Jacob’s. I leaned my elbow against the window, rubbing a finger against my lips. It was bad enough that the illness was spreading around my town, but it was also being transferred to kids. I’d thought, hoped, that Bryony was the only child affected, but it turned out I was wrong.

So fucking wrong.

When I found the person responsible—if I found out they did this on purpose—I was gonna kill ‘em. Oh, they’d die no matter what, but their death would be slow, methodical, unending.

I’m Satan’s niece and I
definitely
know a thing or two about pain and suffering.