Succubus Takes Manhattan (8 page)

He waited until I was done with my recitation, and paused for a moment after to pour wine.

“Interesting,” he said. “So Marduk may even be approachable as an ally.”

I nodded vigorously. “I think so. I think he is more concerned with where the money is going and who is stealing from Satan than with his own status at the moment.”

If Satan discovered the theft before Marduk had caught the culprit and replaced the funds, Marduk would have less status in Hell than a newbie demon doorman. Marduk was fighting for his survival, which for a former god and head of a pantheon must be horrible.

I smelled the familiar incense, almost identical to what I had lit in my bathroom, and Mephistopheles poured a third glass of sherry. “Our newest confederate,” he said.

The smoke glimmered, and when it cleared Marten stood in front of the spindly chairs. In a long deep-gray robe and iron lamin, with a silver ribbon tied around his forehead, he looked haggard, and older than he’d seemed on Aruba. His face was set and grim and he shook Meph’s hand before taking a seat.

Only then did Marten notice me, and his eyes grew wide for a moment before a slow knowing smile acknowledged me.

Well, that answered a lot of questions.

Suddenly I was conscious of the fact that I was not particularly well dressed for the occasion. Marten was dressed in robes that probably reflected some astrological event and sphere of existence, Meph was in Brioni, and I was in jeans.

“I believe you are already acquainted,” Mephistopheles said in his best imitation of a Regency gentleman. “Still—Lily, Marten, as you know, is a ceremonial magician. Part of his agreement with me includes a bit of investigation in the same matter as I have asked you about. Marten, I know you are aware that Lily is a succubus and one that I am proud to claim as an ally. You may not be aware that she is also one of Satan’s Chosen companions, and so is assisting me in this matter as Satan’s Own Handmaiden.”

Marten stood and bowed to me formally. I just waved my hand. “Oh, sit down,” I said to him. “I’m still going to dress nicer for tonight.”

He sat.

“Please let us know what you have discovered,” Meph said to him. “Lily has just given me evidence that Marduk is probably not the traitor we’re looking for, but is being set up himself.”

Marten nodded slowly. “Yes, that would make sense. Hatuman mentioned several times that Marduk might be replaced. I found that especially interesting as there were no rumors, no gossip, about why Satan might be displeased with him.”

I shrugged. “Marduk can be a stick in the mud, but he’s loyal. And he’s happy doing a job that no one else wants. He’s not important enough in the Hierarchy himself,” I mused, but Meph held up his hand and nodded toward Marten.

“Please continue.”

Marten addressed his next remark to me. “I don’t believe that Hatuman has anything to do with this. He’s more interested in passing gossip than actual politics. Honestly, I believe that Hatuman is too lazy to take initiative against Mephistopheles. Or, to be more accurate, that he has achieved his ambition. He throws the most popular parties in Hell.”

“Not much of an ambition,” Mephistopheles huffed.

“Now who’s being a prig?” I eyed him pointedly. “He had a goal and he’s attained it. Everyone wants invitations to Hatuman’s parties. Sometimes even Satan will make an appearance. And he’s a great source of information.”

“For anyone,” Mephistopheles sighed heavily. “If this is all true. If we are not falling for some concealment.” He turned back to Marten. “Is there anything more?”

“A great deal, none of it important, or even meaningful . . . on the surface. Beliel was not approachable last night.” At that, Marten looked at me with an eyebrow raised. I shrugged. Eros had deflected all questions at brunch and that had made me suspicious.

“More interesting,” Marten resumed his briefing, “no one else from Security was there either. Now why would all of Security stay away? Even Beliel’s incubi were notably absent. Hatuman felt snubbed.”

Meph filled the three goblets with wine. I sipped with pleasure. I had never drunk a Spanish Reserva before, and this was a lovely ’81 that was perfect with the salty Gouda Robusto on the tray.

“I had an idea while I was talking to Marduk,” I said slowly, not sure this was the right time. I hadn’t had any time to develop the concept, but with both of them in the room it seemed too opportune to pass up. “He said he needs an accountant, someone who might be able to find out who’s stealing. And I told him I knew one.” I looked pointedly at Marten. “He said he would be interested in talking to someone. I realize I don’t know what you actually do. For all I know you specialize in Dutch taxes and this would be ridiculous. But if you could look at Marduk’s books, maybe you could find out more about what’s going on.”

Meph’s eyes widened and he looked at me, and then Marten, and then he smiled. “Lily, you are a genius. This is brilliant. Marten’s expertise is precisely in the areas that Marduk needs.”

“For a fee,” Marten interrupted. “For my full consulting fee plus expenses and extra for rush and confidentiality.”

“But you’re not going to keep it confidential,” I protested. “You’re going to tell Mephistopheles.”

Marten’s eyes became cold, and I could see that he was a little more dangerous than I had suspected back in Aruba. “I will not tell Satan, unless Marduk himself is the one behind it.”

“I don’t want him hurt,” I said to Meph. “These people are dangerous.”

The cold smile never left Marten’s face. “I can handle them, I think.”

“I know they’re dangerous, Lily,” Mephistopheles interrupted. “They are threatening the base of the power structure and they have to be getting inside information. Which is why we have to take every possible opportunity to get rid of the source of information as quickly as we can.” Satan’s most trusted deputy came over to me and took my hands in his, palms up. “We cannot risk you,” he said softly. “The Knight Defenders came far too close last time. We have got to find the demon who has been giving them information before those fanatics can try anything again. I suspect that the increased activity of groups like Branford’s has been encouraged by someone in Hell. Someone is giving them information and money.”

I stared at my palms. They had been burned deeply, roasted, by a note written on elegant bond that had been impregnated with holy water. My flesh had scalded and turned black and smelled like a backyard grill on the Fourth of July. Thanks to Satan they were perfect. Not a mark or scar marred my skin, no sign that someone had tried to destroy me.

But Marten was still talking and I’d missed a bit of what he’d said.

“There have been far more successful attacks on demons in the past decade than in the several hundred years before,” Marten was finishing up. “As a ceremonial magician, the numbers of demons are important to me, to all of us. The decrease is problematic, and I think there has been an actual campaign to eliminate numbers.”

“You care because you bind demons,” I said. He shrugged. “I’d prefer to say that we make mutually beneficial agreements,” he said mildly.

“The bottom line is that there has been a radical drop-off in demon concentration on Earth,” Mephistopheles mused. Trust Meph to pay attention to the important stuff first. “A radical drop-off that coincides with a pattern of attacks. For ten years there have been more and more attacks of the kind that you have been subject to, Lily. But most demons are not as strong as you, and most don’t have direct access to Satan. So a few were eliminated. Younger, unimportant demons. We never noticed, really. We didn’t see a pattern.”

“Like people don’t notice if the homeless go missing and are being killed,” I mused.

“Exactly,” Marten said. “Their one biggest mistake so far has been targeting Lily and her friends. They must not have realized that these are Satan’s Chosen.”

“Or they’re going for bigger game now,” I added. “Or even, they no longer care whether Satan is on to them or not. But that would be an unbelievable level of pride.”

Mephistopheles smiled thinly. Pride is the premier sin. On the right demon it sat well.

“We need to analyze the patterns of attacks over the past ten years at least,” I declared. “There has got to be something here. The more we dig, the worse this gets. I mean, I thought this was some fringe group of nuts, and now we’re looking at a major depopulation of demons, and maybe threats to Hell itself.”

Marten nodded. “Ceremonialists have been talking about how hard it is to even locate demons anymore. There are areas in the world where it’s very hard to find the demonic orders. Only the top ceremonialists have the strength to pull demons from farther away, which means we are less effective and that younger ceremonialists give up.”

Mephistopheles took the disk out of the laptop. “I’ll keep this,” he said, slipping it back into its cover and onto one of the fussy side tables. “I have already contacted the research department and I expect that I’ll have some raw figures soon enough. I’ll have someone on the analysis immediately and get back to you both. This has been very useful.”

“Wait a sec, Meph,” I said as he started the concluding tracing of sigils. “What about my idea to have Marten work for Marduk?”

Mephistopheles nodded. “We will add an addendum to our contract, naturally.”

“You know what my price is for this. I received your e-mail on that.” Marten waved his hand at the laptop on the coffee table. “This will be direct work, and under Marduk. And will require a fair bit of specialized knowledge.”

“That required a fair bit of specialized software,” Meph said, nodding at the demographic display. Meph looked at the ceiling for a moment and then sighed. “You know I cannot guarantee what you want. I am willing to make concessions on your current contract, but the other matter has to be approved by Satan Herself.”

Marten spread his hands and sighed. “That is a problem. Because it is really the only thing I want. But in the meantime, I will agree to another five hundred years with all the usuals,” he said. “Health, eternal youth, wealth, position, my choice of assignments, and access to at least two reassignments from Admin. And your solemn oath that you will pursue the other.”

I whistled. Hard bargain indeed, and I didn’t even know what the other he wanted was. Very few concessions had to be approved by Satan Herself. Marten rose in my estimation—we appreciate good bargaining in Hell.

“In return for working for Marduk to trace the missing funds,” Meph clarified. Marten nodded his agreement. Meph waved his hand, and a large leather-bound folio appeared next to the laptop bound with straps and silver buckles. Nice. If that was his contract, Marten rated very high in Hell. Meph opened the document case and the first sheet was clearly the newly inscribed addendum, calligraphed in a twelfth-century hand in Demonic Latin. I tried to peer over their shoulders to read the agreement, but they were shielding it with their bodies as they checked it together.

“Agreed,” Marten said after he had finished reading over the document. Meph handed him what looked like a Montblanc and a small horn-handled knife. Marten incised the tip of a finger and touched the pen to the blood before he signed.

“Thank you Lily, that was a brilliant idea,” Meph complimented me. “And I’ll leave it to you to introduce him to Marduk, of course.”

“Of course,” I agreed.

“Then if we are finished, I suggest we get started.” Meph closed the proceedings firmly, and took up tracing the sigil dismissing us precisely where he had left off.

And then the entire room, all the busy brocades, the Murano chandelier, the ormolu-mounted marble clock, the inlaid tables, all of it dissolved into static, only the buzzing went just below my skin and made me feel rotten.

I tried to cover my ears but it was no use. I wanted to scream.

When I came to, I was in the salt circle I’d drawn in the bath. My body was still rigid, looking in the mirror where the sigil had gone a dead powder white. I waited for a moment to regain my equilibrium before I ran one finger over the emblem. The dead sigil crumbled and dissolved at the touch like the lightest dusting of ash.

I breathed deeply, broke the circle, and took out the Dustbuster. Then I started a very hot bath with a soothing, pink bath bomb.

After all, I still had a date.

chapter
EIGHT

I lay back in the sparkly water and tried to clear my mind. Marten was the last person I’d expected at that meeting. Of course I hadn’t expected to see Marten ever again, and certainly not in New York. Above all, not at a demon party. So why not at a meeting with Mephistopheles?

Meph likes ceremonial magicians. Faust and all that. I should have realized.

I should have been happy, anticipating the evening, thinking about what to wear. But seeing Marten with Meph had been too disconcerting for me to relax. Even the lovely scent of the bath bomb and the sparkles in the water couldn’t ease my mind. And since I was supposed to have a date with said magician in just a few hours, I couldn’t just clear my mind and concentrate on what I needed to do immediately.

So I did the next best thing. I spent the time getting dressed to the max.

I laid the rich teal Donna Karan dress on my bed and threw on an oversized tee and then spent forty minutes on my makeup.

After I finished I pulled off the tee and put on my newest La Perla bra, panties, and matching garter belt in soft gold and lavender. Then a layer of Chanel No. 19. And then the Donna Karan and my boots.

It was time to leave. I grabbed my bright green fake fur coat and went downstairs, where another doorman hailed my cab.
Must be Vincent’s night off,
I thought. So I wasn’t the only one with a date.

Marten was waiting for me in the hotel lobby. He rose as soon as he saw me and steered me expertly to the restaurant. He, too, had changed; his ritual robes and accoutrements would be just a little out of place in this ultrachic space, but his Armani leather jacket with a fine-gauge-knit silk sweater were just perfect.

In fact, viewed quite objectively, Marten looked completely yummy. I wished I hadn’t seen him with Meph this afternoon, wished that I wasn’t off balance and wondering whether this was a date or just a meeting at a nicer venue.