Unearthed (22 page)

“Any weakness.” Davyn nodded. The hunter was definitely a weakness. And deal or not, she would pay with her life.

While the feeling was obviously something he should ignore, he didn’t want her to die. Her line of work guaranteed an early trip to the grave, but he didn’t want to cause hers. “Can you protect her? Keep her away from me?”

“Not without starting a war between our races. I can try to guide her, if she’ll let me. She’s incredibly stubborn, isn’t she?”

“Yep.”

Before he was called back to hell, he needed both Lamere and the hunter gone. One turned into dust, and the other somewhere Davyn couldn’t find her. Unfortunately, he was really good at what he did. No matter where she went, he’d find her. So instead of spending the rest of her life as a hunter, she’d be prey. But at least she’d
have
a ‘rest of her life.’

He had two weeks to make it all happen. Plenty of time.

“Thanks, angel. I’m going to leave before I start to like you.”

“I don’t think there’s much danger of that.”

“Free will,” he said, finally looking at M. “Nobody knows how things are going to end.”

Then he remembered one more thing on his bucket list—collecting on his side of a deal.

Davyn leaned up against a streetlamp in front of the building the hunter was staying in, watching the humans walk by while he waited for her to come out. He wasn’t here to fight, so meeting her on the street during the day meant she’d be more relaxed. Not that she knew they were meeting, of course. Boy, was she going to be surprised.

Her steps didn’t even slow as she came out the rear entrance of the building next to hers and saw him. “What do you want?”

“World peace and good will toward—” He cursed. “I was hoping I could make it to the end of the cliché before I felt like vomiting. Maybe next time.”

All the emotional shit that had been in her eyes at the hospital was completely gone now. Very appreciated by his demonic side
and
his currently more human side—no amount of time above the crust could prepare him for female emotions.

He didn’t ask her if she felt better or any of that bullshit. First off, he didn’t care and, second, she was a warrior. Not a very good one, but asking
any
warrior how they felt was as insulting as asking a nun how she liked to be fucked. And Davyn knew that from personal experience. That Sister of Mercy’s grip had no mercy in it, and her aim was pretty damn good for a pacifist.

The hunter walked right by him, not even bothering to check the blind corner. A sign she didn’t think he was hiding anything or setting her up.

“You buying me breakfast to pay me back for my kindness?” He followed, enjoying the gentle sway of her hips.

“What kindness? Never mind. Even if you could come up with something, my answer would still be no.”

“You are the most ungrateful person I’ve ever met…today, at least. Where are you going?”

“Not going to tell you.” She wasn’t carrying her weapons. Good. She’d planned to stay around humans and not go looking for Lamere today.

“Are you holding? I bet you have a knife in your boot, am I right?” He smiled when she stopped and whipped her head towards him. “Salted or non?”

“Non,” she mumbled. “Obviously I now realize what a mistake that was.”

“And yet it’s taking you so much longer to realize that if I really wanted to do anything to you, nothing could stop me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You haven’t called me puppet in like three whole minutes. What’s going on?”

He should make something up quick, something snide with a pinch of complete fucking disrespect, so she’d buy it. Moments like these were when his brain failed him most. The spontaneous shit that rushed out of his mouth without any thought at all always rang truer. For a demon, he was a really bad liar. And worse than that, this time he didn’t even want to lie.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Yesterday you faced your metaphoric demon, helped a literal one out, and saved someone from what you went through. Puppet doesn’t fit anymore. Might sometime soon, but not now.”

She laughed. “Did you seriously think I’d believe that?”

“You calling me a liar?” he asked, smiling.

“Perpetually.” She nodded. “Are you stalking me for something specific today or…?”

“Yeah.” He grabbed her arm and pulled. “Come on.”

She dragged her feet, but evidently was also aware he could dislocate her shoulder if she didn’t follow. “Where are we going?”

“I’m collecting on what you owe me.”

“Wait, let me get my other weapons.”

“No, and you need to dump the knife along the way. We can’t take anything with us.”

“Why not?” After a long pause with no answer, she yelled, “Where are you taking me?”

He ignored her until they were in a cab. Then he spoke to the cabbie. “The airport. I’ll give you an extra fifty if you break any laws to get us there faster.” He was, after all, still a demon.

“Why are we going to the airport, Davyn?”

“It’s a surprise,
honey
,” he said, less for the cab driver’s benefit, and more because the look on her face was priceless. He leaned in close. “Patience. It’s a virtue. I know, normally the best reason to ignore something, but in this case it means you need to shut up and wait.”

“Will whatever you’re planning kill me?”

He paused. “I don’t think so, but it’s a chance I’m willing to take. Don’t worry about cash, this one’s my treat.”

“As if
that’s
what I’m worried about.” She cursed and crossed her arms, scooting all the way over to the other door, pouting.

Davyn had been to airports plenty of times. Loved the smell, the chaos, the panic of someone with a too-short layover. But this time felt different. Maybe because it
was
different. Because of her, and what she was going to give him.

“Where are we going, Davyn?”

“Somewhere.” He tossed a few bills to the driver and followed her out the door.

“Can you be more specific?” She looked at him as if he was crazy.

“No, because I don’t know or care. We’re going somewhere. Anywhere. It doesn’t matter, as long as we have to go up to get there.”

She grinned as she slowly understood. “You have to use your glamour to travel, so you’ve never flown.”

Flown. Even the word made him want to crack a smile. There wasn’t much he wanted and couldn’t have, at least until recently. But this—flying—was something he’d wished for from the very first moment he’d seen the sky. It was everything hell wasn’t—quiet, windy, peaceful. A natural habitat for angels and birds, a place humans could take their
pets
if they wanted. But he couldn’t go there, even after all he’d gone through to see it. Until now.

He walked slowly, watching the sliding glass door open and allow them in, everything unknown and exciting from this perspective.

“Why not?” she asked. “There are flights shorter than an hour. Or helicopters.”

“Helicopters don’t go high enough, and I don’t actually know how I’ll react in a different atmosphere. Setting fire to an airplane would cause trouble. The boss always seems to find that kind of stuff out.” Even standing in line for a ticket was great, the anticipation immense. More than he could ever have imagined. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“I’ve never seen you this happy before. It’s weird.”

His glared only lasted a second. He wasn’t sure he’d ever
been
this happy before, and a second was all he could last without being overwhelmed by excitement again. Flying was a freedom demons could never experience, unattainable even for the strongest of them. The sky, the domain of angels, creating a desire so powerful most of his kind couldn’t even bear to look up at it.

Davyn could. He’d found someone who was able and willing to do this for him. The realization was uncomfortable to say the least, but nothing could make him walk away now, even knowing it was the smartest thing to do.

“I can help the next person in line.” One of the ticket sellers motioned them to her station.

“That’s us.” He only realized he was holding the hunter’s hand when he reached for his wallet. She seemed to realize it a moment later, grimacing, both of them yanking their arms back at the same time.

When had he taken hold of her? And why? No, thinking about that would ruin this experience. He’d deal with it after. Now he had a plane to catch. “Two tickets for somewhere about...” He should err on the side of caution, especially since the hunter wouldn’t be able to phase off the plane if he set it on fire. The other passengers probably wouldn’t be very happy, either. “Less than an hour away.”

“Sir?” the ticket agent asked.

The hunter stepped up to the desk. “When is the next flight to San Diego?”

“In about an hour and forty minutes.”

She looked at him. “You have anything else to do today, Davyn?”

“There’s nothing on earth I would rather do than this with you.” He’d added the last bit because it literally wouldn’t be possible without her, but the woman from the airline seemed to take it as a sign he was enamored with the hunter. She tilted her head, smiled, and made a soft vowel sound. He kept the vowel, and all other sounds he might have responded with, to himself.

Humans had a nasty habit of wanting everyone to join into couples. Not just physically, which made sense, but emotionally as well. He found it ironic, knowing it was far more often the emotional that tore the couple
apart
. If they kept it physical only, the race would be much better off, and a lot more powerful.

“I need a window seat though,” he told the hunter. “It has to be a window seat.”

“Do you have any window seats?” she asked the agent.

Mildly awed, he listened to her reserve two places on tonight’s last flight back to San Francisco. He wouldn’t have thought of that. Two ways. Two chances to be in the sky, the clouds, somewhere he could never go without her.

“Honey?” she asked, her tone syrupy sweet. “She needs your ID and credit card.” He handed them over. “No bags.” Every time she looked at him, she smiled. But when she looked back to the attendant, her face smoothed into seriousness. He much preferred her smile.

She handed his cards back to him and slapped a boarding pass into his hand.

“Thank you,” he said to the agent.

“Enjoy your trip.”

He would. He’d enjoy every fucking minute of it. Taxiing, takeoff, flying above the clouds at five hundred miles an hour, peanuts or pretzels. Every bit of it.

Except for the lines. “Why do humans like to stand in lines so much?”

“We don’t. It’s a necessary evil.”

“I know about necessary evil, and lines are not part of it.”

“As soon as we get through security, you should get something to eat.”

“Do they have special kinds of food in there?”

“Not really. But you’re already heating up a bit.” She held their hands up. He unlaced his fingers from hers and pulled back as if she’d burned him.

“For fuck’s sake, hunter, I don’t want to hold your damn hand.”

“Then don’t grab it.”

He stared at her. “Really?” She nodded. Too human-ish. Way too damn human-ish. “The next time I do it, hit me as hard as you can…in the face…with your boot.”

She smirked. “Gladly.”

Keira wasn’t sure if her jaw hurt from grinding her teeth or trying to keep her mouth shut. While not a demonologist, she knew Davyn—probably more than he would like, definitely more than
she
liked. That’s what happened after spending this much time either trying to stay alive or to kill someone. It had to be a bonding exercise in some culture or another.

But Davyn like this? Unbelievable. He was practically shaking, his eyes going everywhere at once, his focus on who knew what. Not danger, that was for sure. And the way he was looking at her—minus the handholding, she was trying her best to forget the handholding—seemed like gratitude, an impossible emotion for demons. But then, flight was impossible for demons, too.

The line was long for security, but they had plenty of time. “Take off your belt and your shoes.” Then she dropped the volume of her voice. “I’m assuming you aren’t carrying anything else.” Lucky bastard didn’t need anything else. Not when you had fire in your hands and were immortal.

It had been physically painful to get rid of her knife. She always carried a weapon and felt naked without it. Adding that to their last trip made two times she’d felt naked around the demon. That was really, really unfortunate on many levels.

She’d be fine, though—everyone knew you could pick up a stake anywhere.

Well, maybe not
everyone
knew that.

The woman in front of them struggled to lift her enormous, polka-dot carry on one-handed, her other hand occupied by her cellphone. Davyn scowled, grumbled, and growled until he lost it. Before Keira could grab him, he lunged forward, picking the woman’s suitcase up and chucking it onto the conveyor belt.

“That’s a pretty big bag of fake feminine helplessness you have there,” he said loudly. “Next time pack lighter, so no one has to cart it around for you.”

“Go to hell.” The woman’s anger vanished as soon as she saw the demon straight on. “Oh, wow.” Whoever she’d been chatting with was forgotten. “Thanks for your help. I never know what I want to wear…or not wear.” While she took Davyn’s mischievous smile for flirtation, Keira knew better.

“Davyn, if you do it,” she mumbled. “I’m turning around and going home.”

“But she could help me stay cool.”

“I can help you stay cool, too…unless I’m home having a beer and putting my feet up.”

“I’m a big guy, hunter. I might be too much for you to handle all on your own. She could take some pressure off you. There’s a lot I could do with her.”

The woman’s stare never left his face.

“Knock it off.” Keira smacked him in the chest and shook the woman’s shoulder to get her attention. “If I could give him to you, I would. Really. But he’s way more trouble than he’s worth. Seriously, the term ‘bad boy’ doesn’t even come close to being accurate.” She smiled. “Tell her what you do all day, Davyn.”

“I fuck with people’s minds. And eat.”