Pale Demon (22 page)

Trent smiled as he moved his nearly empty glass of beer just so. “That’s not what I see when I look at you.”

“Me neither,” Pierce said under his breath, and may God strike me dead if the two men didn’t start to bond.

“What I meant,” I said patiently, feeling like the butt of a joke, “is you think that I’m safe with them, but I’m not. If Al dies, I’m up crap creek.”

Pierce spooned a piece of ice out of his drink. “Not my problem,” he said, teeth clattering against it.

My jaw dropped. “Hey!
You
were the one who went to him with some stupid idea to be his familiar just so you could kill him.”

“It’s a capital fine idea,” Pierce said indignantly, glaring at me from under his hat. “And it would have worked if not for you.”

Vivian leaned closer. “You tried to kill a demon?”

“I almost made a fist of it, yes,” Pierce said, his features still holding his anger at me. “It was the only reason I did tuck with them, and I opine that if the truth were known, then the coven might have to apologize for burying me alive, and they wouldn’t want to do that, would they?”

Expression becoming pinched, Vivian sank back into the seat. I said nothing. As far as I was concerned, he
was
a black witch. And it bothered me, probably because I thought I might be one, too. Maybe I was being too harsh.
Maybe.

Pierce gave me an angry look. “I’d be free tonight if not for your misguided, ignorant stupidity.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I said, unable to look up at him. “It’s all my fault. And if you killed Al, where would I be?
You
can’t protect me from Newt. Like it or not, I need Al. Go kill someone else’s demon to make yourself a man, Mr. Black Magic User.”

Pierce became silent as the Were in one flip-flop finished his set and got down amid a too-enthusiastic round of cheers.

“To freedom,” Trent said, startling me. His glass was raised and, fingers fumbling, Pierce picked up his mostly empty glass and the two clinked.

Men.
“Well, excuse me for trying to stay alive,” I said, elbows on the table. I didn’t like being here without Ivy or Jenks. “And I thought you didn’t like Trent.”

Pierce had taken a gulp, his eyes watering at the bubbles popping. “I can drink with a man and not like him,” he said, and Trent smiled that infuriating men’s-club smile.

“I bet you can,” I said, but I was busy looking over the moving heads for Ivy. Shouldn’t she be back by now? How long did it take to bite someone, anyway? Or was it the cleanup that took so long? I’d never been bitten where I wasn’t fighting for my life three seconds later. Must be I was doing it wrong.

“Excuse me,” Trent said suddenly, and my attention jerked to him as he rose and nearly pushed Vivian out of the booth.

“Where are you going?” I asked suspiciously.

Trent hesitated next to the table, and Vivian slipped back in. “The washroom.” His eyes went to his empty beer glass, then back to me. Slipping into the narrow path, he wove his way to the back of the restaurant, past the kitchens and the big sign proclaiming
BUOYS
and
GULLS
.
Catchy.

My head started to hurt. This might be my only chance to talk to Trent alone. Sighing, I stood, saying, “Vivian, you got Pierce, okay?”

Vivian looked at me in bewilderment, letting go of the straw she was downing her soda with. “He needs watching? What’s he going to do?”

“I don’t need watching,” Pierce said indignantly, and I swung my legs over the edge of the boat the way Ivy had. She’d probably looked better doing it, though. Not answering Vivian, I pushed into motion to follow Trent, noticing that he was getting some appreciative glances from the surrounding patrons. He didn’t give any indication that he knew I was behind him as the noise of the restaurant was replaced by the clatter and steam of the kitchen, and then the muted noise of the back hallway.

“Trent,” I said as he reached the door to the restroom. Arm stiff, he pushed the door open and went in, not acknowledging that I was behind him.

I didn’t slow down, following him in with my breath held and my shoulders tight.

Trent was at the mirror, head down as he held the sides of the white sink with a resigned air about him. Glancing up, his eyes twitched when they found me in the mirror’s reflection. “Get out.”

Arms swinging, I let my held breath out and decided it didn’t stink too much in here. Ugly things, urinals. Going past him, I looked under the single stall, then kicked it open to make sure no one was standing on the toilet.
Trust me,
he’d said, but he had summoned Ku’Sox, and I needed to know why.

“You hired me for protection,” I said stiffly. “That’s what I’m doing.”

Trent turned to lean against the sink. “It’s a bathroom. Wait outside.”

I stood with my hand on my hip, angry. “Seems like I remember that the elves who attacked you under the St. Louis arch had the same bits that you do,” I said, and he frowned. Sauntering forward, I all but pinned him against the sink. “Remember St. Louis? The arch fell down? Why the hell did you free a day-walking demon? Didn’t trust me to get you there, huh?”

Turning his back on me, he pumped the soap dispenser, having to go to the next one before anything came out. The rims of his ears were red, and my anger grew. “I know you girls go to the bathroom in packs, but I’d appreciate some privacy,” he said, his jaw tight and the skin around his eyes pinched. “No self-respecting assassin takes their mark in the john.”

“And no self-respecting assassin makes a hit on an interstate, either.” I moved closer, well within his discomfort zone. “You want to tell me what in the
hell
you thought you were doing freeing a day-walking demon from under the St. Louis arch?”

Trent didn’t pause, his smooth motion never bobbling as he turned off the water, shook his hands, and reached for a paper towel. Silent, he turned, his expression closed.

A quiver rose through me and tightened my gut. I wanted to shove him, but I managed to keep my hands where they were. Through the cement walls, I could hear cheers as the next band took the stage. “Ku’Sox was halfway to killing you until I shoved that energy back into him. He knocked down the arch, trying to kill both of us,” I said, pushing forward until we were only inches apart. “And then I freed you from your familiar bond and made you immune to him. What I want to know is whether you’ve been planning this from day one, or if you’re making this up as you go along.”

He turned his back on me, not looking at my reflection as he arranged his hair. “I’ve known about Ku’Sox since last year,” he said, and I dropped back, not knowing if I believed him or not. His eyes flicked to mine in the mirror. “You think Ivy is a planner? She has nothing on a motivated elf with too much money.” He looked away, shifting one thin lock of hair over his ear. “I’ve got this under control.”

I blinked, trying not to lose it, but my hands shook. I could almost hear him add, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” “Yeah?” I barked, glad I’d waited until we were alone to bring this up—this way, there’d be no witnesses when I killed him. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in? The demons are pissed. They can’t control this guy, can’t kill him! That’s why he was imprisoned!”

Trent slowly turned, gesturing as if waiting for me to leave.

“Trying to catch him the first time was a friggin’ war,” I said, remembering Al’s spells slithering through our connected brains. “Ku’Sox isn’t confined to the ever-after during daylight, and he eats people to absorb their souls! He
eats
people, Trent.”

A flicker of emotion crossed the back of Trent’s eyes. A soft twitch at his lips. I pounced on it, seeing a sliver of humanity.

“You
saw
him eating those pixies!” I said, hammering the guilt home. “That’s what he does. He
eats
people because his soul doesn’t work right. Ku’Sox is a magically engineered disaster the demons created while trying to break the curse your people put on them in your
stupid
war! What they got was something so horrendous and disturbed that they buried it in the
next world over
. And you go and
free him
?”

Trent’s green eyes hardened. “I
have
this
under control
.”

I snorted. “Like you got him to stop eating pixies? Just because he can’t kill you doesn’t mean you control him! The demons aren’t blaming me for this, they’re blaming
you
! This emancipated-familiar thing makes you liable. You’re going to have demons with little red robes coming at you for breaking the law of uncommon stupidity if you’re not careful.”

His gaze on mine narrowed, and he turned away. “I have this under control. He’s sworn to protect me.”

Did he not get it?
“Protect you?” I yelped. “He
ate
pixies—alive—to distract them so we could escape with Jenks.”

“You’re welcome for that,” Trent interrupted, and my head pounded.

“If you didn’t think I could protect you, then why am I here? Huh?” I asked, hands on my hips as I stood between the door and him.

A small, infuriating smile showed on his face, shocking me. “Because Quen wouldn’t let me out of Cincinnati without you.”

My teeth ground together, and I forced them apart. I didn’t think Quen knew about Ku’Sox, and I sure as hell believed that Ceri didn’t. “You are an idiot,” I managed, hands in fists.

Trent turned back to the mirror and brushed nonexistent dust off himself. The motion lost something with his being in a casual shirt instead of a thousand-dollar suit. “Right back at you, babe.”

Babe? Did he just call me babe?
Shaking, I turned on my heel. This guy was a piece of work. “I’ll wait outside for you,” I said, not trusting myself with him right now.

“If you feel you have to.”

Pissed, I stiff-armed my way out of the bathroom.
You can die here for all I care,
I thought, the warmth and noise growing as I stalked down the empty hall. Trent was a jerk. A jerk and an ass. The demons might not blame me, but the coven would. And then I’d have to take care of Ku’Sox myself. What in hell was I? Trent’s maid?

Not looking at the man I pushed past, I peered out over the kitchen archway to the restaurant—then paused. Cinnamon. Cinnamon and wine.

My anger vanished, and I turned to the man now heading for the men’s room. Nice slacks, nondescript windbreaker, soft shoes, dark hair, well built. Smelled like a snickerdoodle dunked in wine.

Shit, the guy was an elf.

H
eart pounding, I ran back down the corridor. I hit the men’s room door with a bang that reverberated from my arm to my toes. Breath held, I slid to a stop as the unknown elf turned.

Trent still stood beside the row of sinks, hunched under a claustrophobically small circle. Something close to panic was in his eyes, quickly turning to his familiar cool dispassion, but I’d seen it, and I knew he was glad to see me. The air smelled like ozone, and the last of the attacking elf’s green aura trying to break through Trent’s circle flickered and went out.

I put a hand on my hip, and gestured with the other at the man in his trendy windbreaker and utterly blank expression.
Trying to kill Trent on my watch? I don’t think so.
“If I can’t kill him, then neither can you,” I said, and the assassin’s lips twitched.

I moved, tapping one of Las Vegas’s lines even before he threw a ball of magic at me. Striding forward, I flashed a circle into existence for the bare second I needed to deflect the green-hazed ever-after into the corner. It hit the tiled wall and spread out, a gelatinous ooze smelling of bone dust emanating from it.

“Nice,” I said, thinking it must be a charm to break someone in half. “You want to leave before I hurt you?”

Hunched, the elf backed up, trying to keep enough distance between us so that he could throw something at me and not have it bounce back at him. I kept going forward, trying to get under the guns, so to speak. Grasping him by the front of his windbreaker, I shoved him into the wall, slapping aside his attempt to flood me with ever-after.

“I said, you need to leave,” I said, unimpressed, but I hesitated when I felt the prick of wild magic brush across my aura like sandpaper. Eyes wild and frightened, the man smiled at me, and a quiver rose in my chi as I thought of black snakes unwinding from Al’s head to kill Ku’Sox. The man made a gesture, lips moving and fingers twisting into an awkward figure. He gasped as his hand contorted and I heard knuckles pop, and hazy black enveloped his fist.

Alarmed, I dropped him before his magic could flood into me.

“Demon whore!” he shouted, clearly in pain as he threw whatever it was at me. I flung myself back to dodge his spell, hitting the stall door and falling backward into the toilet even as my protection circle sprang up. Arms and legs flailing, I caught myself with the oh-so-helpful railing they put in there. Sprawled across the seat with my arms straining, I stared at the horrifying green aura only a handsbreadth from me, slithering over my bubble as if looking for a way in. It was wild magic. It had hurt the assassin to cast it. It might make it through. I didn’t think it was going to be sunshine and lollipops if it broke my bubble.

In the corner, the assassin was getting to his feet, shaking the pain from his hand. I wasn’t keen on the gleam of anticipation he still wore. Licking my lips, I glanced at the charm burning its way to me, then back to him.
“Stricto vive gladio…,”
I started, and the man’s eyes widened in fear as he recognized the “bounce back” charm. He scrambled to his feet, almost flinging himself at the door in his effort to flee.

“Gladio morere transfixus,”
I finished, and the green haze coating my bubble vanished.

The fleeing elf skidded to a halt between Trent and me, his back arching as all his muscles seized. Mouth open in a silent scream, he reached behind him as if trying to touch something. Gurgling wetly, he collapsed, his back scraping on the sticky floor.

Horrified, I broke my bubble and pulled myself out of the stall, looking at the man contorting under the charm meant for me. His lips moved as foam bubbled at the corners while he tried to speak the countercharm. “Sorry,” I said, wincing. “Maybe you should have tried to kill me with something that didn’t hurt so much.” A soft pop sounded, and Trent’s face turned ashen. I think the guy had just dislocated something.

Groaning, the man collapsed, but it had been the curse breaking, not the man’s spine, and he lay on the floor, gasping for breath.

“Maybe you should leave now,” I suggested, and he rolled to his hands and knees. Reaching for the sink, he pulled himself up. Grime from the bottoms of a thousand shoes coated his back, and sweat glistened on his neck. Panting, he looked to the door as it creaked open, becoming even more frightened.

I looked as well, and a heavy spike of fear slid through my ribs and into my lungs.
Ku’Sox
. “Damn it, Trent,” I said as I edged over to stand by him. “I told you I have this. I do
not
need any help!”

Ku’Sox stood before the closed door in a blue-gray, trendy suit, his pale eyes gleaming as he adjusted his silver tie. He had upgraded, it seemed—eaten an executive on Hollywood Boulevard, maybe. With one hand, he opened the door. Music drifted in, along with muffled conversation and kitchen clatter. The assassin didn’t need to be asked twice. Soft shoes squeaking, he fled.

“You’ll never make it in time,” he said to Trent as he slipped past Ku’Sox.

“Oh yeah?” I shouted as the door started to close. “You don’t know nothing!”

Silence fell as the door clicked shut. Crap.

“As compared with you, who thinks she knows everything?” Ku’Sox said, smiling.

My thoughts flashed to him as an ugly stork, in his beak a pixy fighting for life even as the demented demon tossed his head to shift him headfirst down his throat. Stifling a shudder, I nudged Trent’s bubble to get him to take it down, but he didn’t, his face set in grim determination. No fear, though. Stupid man.

“Hey, hi, Ku’Sox,” I said, mouth dry. “Uh, no hard feelings, okay? Al had you beat before I got there.”

Instead of the expected threats, the demon nodded as if I’d answered a question. “I thought it was you Al had slipped into,” he said, blue eyes slitted. “If it had been Newt, I might have been hurt. You are full of unexpected talents…Rachel. I can call you Rachel, can I not?”

He came in another step, and I backed up, hitting Trent’s bubble and slipping backward when Trent took it down. There was a new caution in Ku’Sox, and that gave me hope, even as my palms started to sweat.
Damn it, Jenks, where are you?

“I should have guessed,” Ku’Sox said, sniffing as he took in his image in the mirror and his nose grew a shade narrower and his tan deepened. “Even Al knows better than to let Newt hold his energy field. She might have snuffed him for the fun of it.” Blue eyes meeting mine, he frowned. “This alliance with Al doesn’t bode well for your future. I will take drastic measures if you persist in it. It’s all in the early training. I should know, having been…trained. Get us young enough, and we can do anything. Wait too long, and we never break our bad habits.”

I took another step backward, teeth clenched. I was going the wrong way, but this guy scared the peas out of me. “I’m not being trained, and Trent’s not in any danger,” I said, proud of the way my voice didn’t crack. “You can go now. He’s safe.”

I had held Al’s energy field?
I thought even as I looked for a way out of this. I’d assumed it had been the other way around, but maybe not.

“Go?” Ku’Sox shifted his shoulders, watching his reflection as his suit broadened and he became wider across the shoulders. The scent of carrion seemed to tickle my nose. “Going is an excellent idea. We shall start your rehabilitation right away.”

“No, wait!” I said, my hands raised to fend him off, but it was too late and he wrapped an arm around my waist and tucked me under his arm. “Watch it!” I cried out when my head almost hit a urinal as he spun. I was still connected to a line, and I smacked him with it.

Ku’Sox trembled, shuddering in what could have been pain but what I was betting was pleasure. Maybe it was both. “More than adequate to get started,” he said as he headed for the door. Trent stood at the sink, helpless as Ku’Sox picked me up like a kitten and walked away. Maybe he’d get it now. It only looked like I was safe around demons.

Fingers scrabbling for the edge of the stall, I managed to stop us for a half second. “Still think you can find a way to control this? Then tell him to stop,” I said to Trent, then yelped when my fingers burned as Ku’Sox yanked me off the stall. My butt hit the door, and the music got loud as we left the men’s room. Three steps later, Ku’Sox swung me up, putting me over his shoulder. I was helpless. If I threw anything at him, I’d get it back in spades.

“I won’t let you jump me,” I said, his shoulder cutting into my lungs and making it hard to breathe.

He slowed as we entered the restaurant, seeming to enjoy the music and high spirits. “To the ever-after? Why would I want to go there when we have the sun here?” he said, adjusting my weight to make my breath huff out. “There must be a boat somewhere in a sea of salt. I’m going to pick you apart, find out how much of a pain in the ass a natural-spawned demon is going to be to raise properly, or if I’d be better off destroying you all in the womb, so to speak.”

Oh, that didn’t sound good. “I’m not a demon,” I said, jamming my elbow into his back, wondering if I grabbed a knife off a passing tray and hit his kidney hard enough, he might drop me. The blood was pooling in my head, hurting.

“I’ve tasted you,” Ku’Sox said softly. “You’re like me, only natural born. With a mother and a father.”

Even over the noise, I could detect his jealousy. And why was no one saying anything? Maybe men toting women out of the back was normal here. I hit his back harder, and he tightened his grip.

“You might be strong enough to give me pain,” he said, heading for the door. “You might not be. I want to know before more of you show up.”

“Let me go, you freak!” I shouted, feet kicking as we started to pass tables, but everyone thought it was part of the show and only clapped.
Where is Trent? Washing his hands?

“I’m not a freak,” he hissed, pinching my middle until I gasped in pain.

Extending my arms to his back, I pushed myself up, looking wildly for Ivy. Jenks. Hell, even Vivian would be a help. Orienting myself, I sent my gaze to our table. “Pierce!” I shouted, and the man turned from where he’d been watching the two vamps in the corner. Beside him, Vivian’s eyes widened. “A little help here, maybe?” Jeez, did I have to sing it for them?

Pierce stood, his face ashen. “Rachel!” he called, cutting through the music and catching everyone’s attention. Without missing a beat, the band shifted to “Love Lifts Us Up Where We Belong” and the crowd exploded into cheers. I could understand their confusion. Ku’Sox looked like an especially attractive billionaire, rescuing his woman of the week from a lifetime of minimum wage.

Tight over my head came a clatter of pixy wings, and I looked up to get a face full of pixy dust. “Jenks, get Ivy!” I shouted between coughs, the image of a pixy and a bird flashing through my mind—terrifying me more than Ku’Sox carrying me away. My head dropped as I wiped my eyes, and I glimpsed Trent at the top of the kitchen corridor. Focus blurry, I felt more than saw Ivy at the front of the restaurant in a puddle of light by the register, hands on her hips and looking svelte and refreshed.

Finally I could see again, and I let out a little shriek, ducking when a black ball of ever-after arched toward us. Pierce. He’d thrown something.

It struck Ku’Sox right in the head, little pinpricks of his aura hitting me like sleet. Ku’Sox stumbled as if shocked, and I scrabbled for a grip as he began to fall. The curse flashed through Ku’Sox, jerking his muscles stiff, but then it was me screaming when the son of a bitch shoved Pierce’s curse into me instead.

I howled as the arc of electricity jumped from neuron to neuron, burning. I caught a glimpse of Pierce, horrified, and then the pain was gone and I was panting, trying to breathe as I hung limp over Ku’Sox’s shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Vivian shouted from a thousand years away.

“You think your white charms are going to do anything against that?” Pierce yelled back, and the band started to falter—except for the drummer, lost in the throes of his passion.

“Please don’t do that again,” I slurred, head hanging. Conversation hummed in my stunned ears, and I caught a few uneasy whispers. We passed another table, and I started to rally. It was up to Ivy. Magic wouldn’t do it—it had to be physical.

“Thank you, God,” I said as I heard her scream at him. The world spun, and I hit the floor, sprawling and hip bruised. I looked up to see Ivy and Ku’Sox in a tangle on a table. Shouts of protest rose high as glasses and plates hit the floor. My phone was humming, the buzz in my back pocket almost lost in the vertigo that was hitting me. Dizzy, I rolled to get out of the way. People were starting to scatter. We had to do this fast, or the freak would start eating people.

“Jenks!” I shouted, ducking under the table when a chair Ivy had thrown shattered near my elbow. “Get Trent out of here!” I shouted again, thinking that maybe if Trent was gone, the demon might be constrained to follow.

Jenks hesitated in midair, hovering between Ivy and me, clearly torn.

“Tell him to get the car!” I yelled, a little
ding
from my back pocket telling me whoever it was had left a voice message. “Bring it here!” The demon would follow him or not. Either way, we’d have a quick way out of here when the shit quit hitting the fan.

Leaving a burst of frustrated dust, Jenks darted from Ivy to me, his long hair swinging. His sharply angled face twisted up in indecision, but before he could say anything, Ivy yelled in pain. We both looked to see her slide across the floor on her back until slamming into the bottom of the stage. Blinking, she shook her head, trying to focus. The drummer finally stopped, and in the sudden hush, she slurred, “I’m okay. Get the freak of a demon.”

That did it, and even as Ku’Sox dramatically turned, people surged to the doors in a panic. In seconds, the emergency door began screaming, and the people trying to get out of the jam-packed front surged to the rear. Ku’Sox seemed to be enjoying the chaos, raising his arms in benediction and soaking it all in as the fear rose and the noise grew louder.