Howler's Night (5 page)

Shrugging, he gave me a sly grin. “C’mon, Priest, you and me play the same game. Should I trust you?”

It was my turn to smile, and I let my fire flicker through my eyes.

“That’s what I thought. Look”—he held up his hands—“call this a ‘the enemy of my enemy is a friend’ kind of thing.”

I hated to admit that she was getting heavy, but while she was in this form holding her was making my biceps tremble. Keeping my eye on the entity that was as old as time itself, I moved to the foot of the bed and sat down with her still in my arms.

She moaned when I jostled her, and it was all I could do to continue murmuring in her ear that regardless of the pain she was now enduring she was actually safe. I only had her in a mild state of delusion, just enough to keep her beast subdued.

Death leaned against a crate labeled “perishables” and crossed his heels.

“Talk then,” I snapped. My emotions were too close to the surface for anything nicer. Pandora’s silky hair had fallen into her eyes, and I pushed it back. She moaned, but this time it didn’t sound quite as pain-filled, and the sound of it caused my skin to prickle.

“You do know the second she wakes up she’ll be wanting to rip your head off again, right?”

“Figured as much.” I didn’t look at him. In my excitement when I’d entered the diner and found her, I’d failed to note the alabaster paleness of her skin, and the faint pink scar lines peeking out from the neck of her dress.

“Priest, you understand what’s happening, don’t you?”

Finally I turned to him. He was looking at me with truth in his eyes, and I took a minute to process the fact that Death knew. I could see it looking back at me. He knew the prophecy. But just how much he knew was another question. I already knew almost all of it, but if there was something I didn’t, I was all ears.

“Tell me.”

His Cheshire grin grew wider. “Still don’t trust me, eh? Well”—he shrugged—“that’s fine. Guess I would be none too trusting were I in your shoes either. You and the girl, you’re fated. Two sides.” He held up two fingers. “Both sides wanting you and her. But the Triad got ahold of her first, and now they think they got the king in check.”

“We talking chess here?” I brushed my fingers along the delicate skin under her arm. She was stirring; I hadn’t infected her with enough darkness to keep her down very long. I didn’t want to pump anymore of that venom into her, but I knew if I didn’t we’d be right back where we started.

“Of course”—he spread his arms wide—“isn’t that what life is?”

“A game of chance?”

He looked affronted. “Do you know nothing of the game?”

I had no idea where he was going with this and didn’t care either. All I wanted was to get Pandora to safety and figure out a way to undo what’d been done to her.

“There are players on the board. Bishops, knights, pawns, a king, rooks, and a queen. You and the demon, you’re the king and the queen. Everyone else on that board is either your ally, or trying to take you out.”

“But there are two sets, so who’s the other king and queen?”

He paused and cocked his head, the movement so alien that finally I could see beneath his façade of humanity to the monster that lived beneath.

“You. And her.” He tipped his head. “You are both. Destiny says there are two paths you can walk. Allies, or rivals.”

He knew more than I’d expected. I glanced down at Pandora, wondering if she could hear any of this. I’d not been able to tell her because of the geas I was under, but I wondered what she’d think when she discovered the truth about us.

“If you know that, then you know which side I’ve chosen.”

“Aye.” His country accent slipped for the briefest of moments, and it hit home that the man I was speaking with was as ancient as any demon bound in Hell. Death was eternal, the broker between the living and the dead, and until the very end of time, he would remain a constant.

“But what side do you think she’s on?”

My jaw clenched so hard my molars started to ache. “She wouldn’t. I know her.”

His smile finally died, and once again the façade he wore wavered, just for a split second. Just long enough for me to see the slide of shadow brush against the bony mask of his true face.

“Do you have any idea what they did to her?”

Rage built in my blood like poison, everything I’d kept bottled down inside started to froth and bubble over at his words. I wanted to believe that she’d returned to me whole, that the Triad hadn’t stripped her from me so soon. A murderous rage unlike any I’d ever known descended like a veil over my vision.

“The horrors of it are breathtaking.” He inhaled sharply, his shoulders almost sagging with euphoria.

It was enough to make me forget who he was. I called the shadows and clenched my fists, wanting nothing more than to silence him forever. But all he did was look at me and chuckle, swatting at my power like he was swatting at a gnat.

“C’mon, boy, manners.” He crossed his arms. “Don’t make me regret activating myself.”

“Who are you?”

His lip curled. “I’m Death.”

“No, on the board. Who are you?”

“Ah.” His tri-colored eyes twinkled. “You mean you want to know whether I’m white or black? Well, King, let’s let that be a surprise.”

I felt like he was doing nothing but talking circles around me, telling me things I already knew. Pandora’s fingers curled into my wrist. I had only minutes until she woke.

“What do you want with us?”

Shrugging one shoulder, he shoved off the crate and stared down at me. “I want what everybody else wants. For my side to win.”

Then he snapped his fingers and a large steel cage suddenly replaced the crate he’d been leaning on. There was a heavy padlock chained around the door of it. “Put your girl in there.”

“I’m not giving you Pandora. You can just go to hell.”

Snorting, he shook his head and undid the lock. “Considering I spend half my life there, I find that insult lacking, Priest.” He stepped back and gestured toward the opening. “Put her in there, or cause her more pain. Up to you.”

Her eyes began to blink open, and though they were hazy and muddled, they still glowed the lavender of her aroused demon.

I planted a hard kiss on her forehead, whispered a low apology beneath my breath, and then moved her into the cage, fixing the dress around her legs so that she remained covered. Death was locking the door when she finally roused.

And just like before, she flung herself at me, screaming unholy fury as she shook the bars of her prison, attempting with all her might to get out to me.

I stood in front of her, her clawing fingers just inches from my face, and vowed to kill everyone who’d done this to her.

~*~

“C
ome get a drink.” Death gestured to me as we walked out of the pantry.

The diner was empty now. I stopped and stared, hearing the faint rumbles of motorcycles riding away.

Sniffing, he snapped a dishrag over his shoulder. “The cargo’s safe, and now it’s just us.”

“You set this whole damn thing up, didn’t you?” I turned to him.

“Well, I hate to brag, but”—he reached under the counter and pulled out a bottle of Jack and two tumblers—“yeah, we kind of did.”

Scrubbing a hand over my jaw, I was still uneasy. I hated the thought of leaving Pandora alone back there, I didn’t know what the hell had been done to her. Her screaming sounded desperate and frenzied, and though I knew she didn’t give a damn about me right now, all I wanted was to be where she was.

“It’s a fruitless, pointless effort now, Priest. Alls you can do is let time do its thing.”

“How much time?” I snapped, snatching the drink from him and chugging it down in one hard swallow before slamming the glass onto the counter.

Lifting a brow, he twirled the tumbler upside down and gazed at the hairline crack that’d appeared then whistled.

“Got plenty more if you need to get it out, though maybe next time you could do it with something that’s not crystal.”

The exhaustion of the past few months laced my shoulders, and I suddenly felt like the weight of the world rested on them. Hanging my head, I tapped my finger on the bar as each one of her cries ripped through my heart like a fiery arrow.

“How’d you know?” I cleared my throat and turned to him. “How’d you know where to find her?”

For the first time, Death looked more serious. “Just like you, King, I’ve been following the lass for several lifetimes.”

My spine instantly went stiff, and a growl ripped from my throat. “You telling me that you saw her get taken?”

Pouring us two more drinks, he slid one to me. “Saw her get taken, and I saw where she wound up.”

I didn’t think, I just grabbed the drink and tossed it against the wall. “You fucking saw her get taken and you did nothing!” I jerked to my feet, clenching my fists, knowing it was fruitless to try and take him on, but not giving much of a damn.

He didn’t even bat a lash. “It had to happen. It all had to happen. Luc stabbing her. You finding her. The book.”

Feeling like a deflated balloon, I dropped into my seat. This wasn’t like me, erupting at the drop of a dime. But every yell and roar and whimper from the back had disrupted my equilibrium, and I couldn’t think straight with her like that. It killed me to be this helpless.

“What book?” I latched onto the one thing I’d caught him say. “My book? She couldn’t decipher it yet.”

He snorted. “Well, no fucking wonder, genius. Without the cypher she’s never going to. You ass, handing her your journal without the code makes it unreadable to almost everybody.”

“But let me guess.” I drummed my fingers on the bar, wishing I had that drink back. “Not to you.”

“Well.” He laughed, and as though he’d read my mind, he grabbed a glass, poured me another drink, and passed it over.

I snatched it up and swallowed. It burnt going down. The buzz filtering through my blood helped quell some of the rage boiling inside me. Pandora’s screams had begun to lessen, and with that my sanity began to restore itself.

For the first time, I noticed my hand shook.

“You have chosen your side, King.”

I looked up to catch Death looking down at my hands. He glanced at me.

“That’s good, because she’s gonna need you to fight for her.”

“Why do you care?” I asked, with no heat behind it. I was suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion. The man sitting beside me seemed to have all the answers; everything I’d wanted to know he probably already did, but now that I was here, all I wanted was to close my eyes and sleep and try to forget this nightmare had ever happened. “Why does she matter to you?”

“You know why. She’s the key.”

“So the prophecy’s true?” I had my doubts about that, even though she’d tried to kill me. True prophecies were unalterable, and no matter what the Triad had done to her this past year, I still believed she’d remember who she really was, she’d remember me, and she
wouldn’t
release the deadly high caste lords into the world.

He took a sip of his drink and stared off into space. “It can go either way. And if she steps out of line, I will kill her, and I will kill you.” His eyes met mine and held my stare for half a minute. “But I don’t want to do that.”

“And why not?” I wasn’t scared of death, to some extent I dealt in it the same way Death did. My end would come someday. Pandora and I lived in a world that brimmed over with violence; that we’d survived as long as we had was a minor miracle.

“Because if I do it means she’s unlocked the gates of Hell and Armageddon has begun.”

“I
know why I want her to understand my book, but why do you?” I asked slowly, choosing to ignore the comment about unlocking the Gates of Hell for a moment. Pandora will never do that. I’ll die before I let it happen.

“You misunderstand me, Priest. I don’t give a rat’s ass if she ever deciphers your book. That’s between you and the girl—I don’t deal in
love
.” He said the word like it offended him. “What I speak of is something far different.”

Narrowing my eyes, I took a sip from my refilled glass. It was impossible for me to get smashed, but I could get buzzed just enough to loosen my tongue. I didn’t think that was on Death’s agenda for me, and it seemed like the scythe wielder knew more about chess than I did.

I chuckled and took another sip. “I’m not begging for it, Death. Either tell me or stop wasting my time.”

“Call me Dean.” He tapped my glass with his.

At my blank stare, he shrugged. “What?”

“Nothing.” I swallowed the last of the Jack and then covered the glass with my hand when he attempted to pour more. “You’re just very humanized for a being that traditionally does the cowl and sickle shtick.”

“Shtick.” He snorted. “Okay. I could say the same to you, death priest. Don’t you know you’re supposed to decapitate what’s back there, not bump fuzzies with it?”

I shook my head, giving him a hard glare.

“Anyway.” He waved his hand. “The book I’m referring to is the one Pandora wrote while in captivity.”

“What?” I sat straight up. How did he know that? I could feel the anger trying to ride me again.

“No.” He rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t in there, I didn’t actually see her do it.”

I licked my front teeth. “Then how do you know—”

“She did it? I sent Hannah there to make sure she got it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I rubbed the bridge of my nose with my thumb, because if he was saying what I thought he was saying, then he’d deliberately sent someone to—

“Creatus, that’s the name of where she was held.”

“You reading my mind?”

He pinched his fingers together. “Maybe just a little.”

“Don’t.”

He shrugged in a way I was pretty sure didn’t mean he was sorry.

“So what the hell is that place and how do you know about it?”

He sighed and swallowed his drink, then poured another before tipping the bottle toward me. “You sure?”

I shook my head.

“Suit yourself. I know about it just like I know about everything else. I’m more than just Death, I’m a Fate. That means I read the lines of life. It’s how I know when one’s ready to end. It also means”—he inclined his head toward the back room—“I can read the future.”