“You haven’t seen everything.” He touched something high on the wall, and she got a chill.
“I bet I love that, too.” She watched Palla walk the perimeter of the room, pausing before a series of carved wooden medallions set above the crown molding. “What are you doing?”
He pointed to one of the disks above the inside door to her room. “Adjusting the wards so you don’t get killed or worse if your magic goes off. They’re an early warning system. If anyone I don’t want here tries to get in and they have power, these will go off. “
“Like who?”
“Magekind who aren’t sworn to Nikodemus. Kin who aren’t sworn. Like that.” He faced her again and shifted his weight between his legs. “Are you too tired to work tonight?”
She assessed her state and cringed at the thought, but if he thought they should work, then they should. “I am all wound up right now, so no, I’m not too tired. But I don’t think I’ll last long.”
“Humans, and your need to sleep. Sucks to be you.”
“Make some tea and maybe we can more done.”
“Settle in, then come find me.”
“Sure.” When he was gone, she put her things away, took stock of the bathroom—en suite said all her favorite house shows—and then joined Palla in the living room. He handed her a mug of coffee. “What is this?”
“Caffeine.”
“I don’t like coffee.”
“It’ll keep you awake. You want sugar or milk?”
“Yes.”
He pointed to a table where he’d left a pint container of milk and a bowl of sugar. She doctored up the stuff and managed to drink about half before she was wide, wide awake and jittery as hell. By midnight she had a raging headache and had managed to dead drop him exactly once. For about three seconds. He was frustrated and back to being an asshole, and she was back to feeling like a failure.
“I can give back the money.”
“Not necessary.”
At one o’clock, he made her a pastrami sandwich that revived her spirits some. She was past tired now, and he was tireless because demons didn’t sleep. His oath to her kept him from another physical attack, and it was horrifying to realize that otherwise, he’d have had no compunctions about trying that again. She wanted to weep with relief when his phone rang.
“Palla.” He bowed his head and pressed three fingers to his forehead. Strange. “Yeah.” He walked to the window and stared out. “Tonight? Sure, but I have something going and need a couple weeks after. No problem. Consider it done. Me, too.”
She sat down and wondered if that was Randi and what the hell Palla saw in her besides talent and spectacular looks. She tucked her legs under her and took apart her sandwich so she could eat just the meat. If she ate fewer carbs, she might lose those ten pounds that kept nagging at her.
He put away his phone and said, “I have to go out for a while.”
“Booty call?”
“Don’t answer the door. Don’t let anyone in. See those?” He pointed to the wards he’d told her about. “If they go off, lock yourself in the bathroom and call that number I gave you.”
“Okay.”
“Remote’s there if you want to watch TV. It’s internet connected so you can stream anything.” He pointed. “Food’s in the kitchen. Help yourself to whatever you want.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She gave him a big smile and spoke in her whitest voice. “Okay, sweetie. You be careful out there.”
“Fuck you.”
Chapter 9
Palla grabbed the other demon by the back of the neck and slammed him against the nearest wall. Every nerve he possessed went nova on him as his oath to Wallace triggered. Somewhere in the back of his brain, a voice shouted at him that Telos wasn’t going to hurt her. He managed to release his grip before he made things worse. “Hands off, asshole.”
“Palla.” That was Wallace behind him, with Telos Khunbish still in human form but drawing enough power to kill her. She sounded scared and worried, and her emotions sliced through him, white hot. One of the medallions along the wall popped. “Stop it.”
The other demon’s power flexed, and Palla tightened his grip. No way was Telos getting to her. No way. A medallion above them turned black. Pure reaction to Palla’s state. Ashes flaked off, a few, and then more and more until there was a steady rain of charred remnants.
Telos smiled, but not in a friendly way. “Dude. Calm the fuck down.”
A growl came up through his chest and reverberated in his throat. He was recently sworn to Nikodemus, and getting his fealty had been something of a coup, he kept hearing. Didn’t mean Palla wouldn’t kill him if he had to.
“Palla.” Wallace again, and it registered to him that she was fine. Nobody was after her. She was okay. All good. Telos wasn’t going to hurt her. He hadn’t hurt her.
He sucked in air, and Telos had the balls to ramp down his power even though Palla had enough on tap to melt metal. He didn’t take his eyes off Telos. “You okay, Wallace?”
“I’m fine.” She said that like she thought he was crazy to ask. Well, he wasn’t.
“It is a necessary question, Wallace.” He kept eye-contact with Telos. “Telos Khunbish is a fucking monster, don’t you forget it. He may look human, but he’s not. The reason he hasn’t tried to fuck you over is he knows I’ll kill him if he tries.”
Telos put a hand on the outside of Palla’s elbow and braced his other hand on the inside. “If you don’t let go of me in the next two seconds, I will break your arm. The old fashioned way.”
“You’re overreacting, Palla.”
She was right, but he wanted to punch someone. Needed to punch someone, only the danger was over—there hadn’t been any danger. Probably. He pushed away, hands fisted. Wallace was fine.
“I came here as a favor.” Telos was Nepalese or Tibetan, or something like that, and though Palla knew close to nothing about demons from that region, he sure as hell knew Telos wasn’t someone to mess with. “I said I’d work with your witch, and now you’re all bent about it? Not cool.”
He lifted his hands and took a step back. “I know. I know.”
“You could have warned me you were in that tight with the oath.”
“This is the first time it’s triggered.”
Telos looked over Palla’s shoulder to Wallace. “Congratulations, it works.”
“Great.” Wallace. Totally unhurt. “That’s great.”
Palla looked, too. She had one of those fake smiles going, and she wasn’t settled down. Her magic, if that’s even what it was, pulsed through the room. After all this time working with her, he recognized it. “Do not fucking work me, Wallace.” He craned his neck to look at her. “How the hell am I supposed to protect you if you interfere?”
Telos scratched his goatee. “What are you talking about? Can I ask that?”
Psychically, he opened himself to Telos, and the other demon reciprocated. In that shared mental space, Palla took stock of his state. Their connection meant he knew Telos meant no harm. A good thing. His oath to Nikodemus was in place and solid. The bond he’d made with Wallace was there, too, a swirling mass of white hot fever at the moment. You’d think there’d been a two-way blood exchange the way his oath had hooked into him.
“Whoa,” Telos said.
Yeah. He was way too settled down given the state of his oath to protect her. He ought to still be on high alert, because the source of the danger to Wallace was still here and still pissed off.
“She’s doing that?”
He glared at Wallace. “Stop it.”
“You were being an ass.”
“Do it to Telos. Make him feel like there’s nothing to worry about.”
That sense of something being wrong with her increased, and a few seconds before Telos said anything, they both felt the edges of her power, just not as the heat they were used to where witches were concerned. The last of Palla’s reaction to Tel
os melted away.
“Enough?” Wallace said.
“For now.”
Telos retied the ponytail of his long, dark hair. “Lady, that’s some serious shit you have going there.”
“Am I supposed to say thank you?”
“If you want.” Telos shrugged and stepped away from the wall. “It’s a fact though.”
“Thank you, then.” She gave Telos a genuine smile in that way she had that was part shy, part lit with joy, and unexpectedly hot. Whatever. She wasn’t Palla’s type. He knew what he liked, and nicely put together as Wallace was, she wasn’t it. He went for flashy in his women.
He hadn’t cut his link with Telos soon enough because Telos gave him a shit eating grin, and said, “Right. You just tell yourself that.”
“Anyone want a beer?” So what if Wallace was good looking? Nothing was going to happen.
“Sure,” Telos said. He lived with a witch, he wasn’t going to hit on Wallace, for fuck’s sake.
And he wasn’t going to sleep with Wallace. He headed for the kitchen. “I have Lagunitas IPA and Bear Republic Hop Rod Rye. Any preference?”
“Lagunitas,” Telos said.
“I’ll have the Hop Rod.” She put her hands on her hips. “Don’t give me that look. I am not in the mood.”
“You’re a lightweight.”
“I’m a grown woman.”
“I’m not curing your hangover later.”
In the kitchen, he concentrated on getting himself straightened out. He put the beers on the counter. And Jesus, now that she wasn’t working him anymore, he was feeling the aftermath of his oath. Hard. She was something. He could hear Telos and Wallace talking. Friendly. Fuck this. He wanted his work with Wallace to be going better than it was. She was working hard, he couldn’t complain about that, and she was making progress, but he wanted more progress. Faster. He needed to know she could do the needful no matter what they faced.
She’d managed to dead drop Telos twice, and that wasn’t easy. He knew she was tired. He knew if he said he wanted to keep working, she would. But she also needed a break now and then. He knew that. Humans needed sleep and down time. She’d burn out at the rate he was pushing her.
Telos gave him a mental adios for the night. He didn’t return the favor. He put his hands on the counter and leaned over and fought—everything. Everything back to the way it was when he just didn’t care.
“Hey.”
“What?” He didn’t look up. He liked women in dresses. Fucking Randi loved to wear dresses. Lots of women did. Wallace looked good in a dress, too, but tonight she was wearing jeans and a tee-shirt, and she made them look good. She wasn’t dressy the way he liked. He liked women with long hair, too, and hers was short.
“Telos had to leave.”
“I know.” Like he wouldn’t know when a demon left his house.
She joined him at the counter and reached for the now extra Lagunitas and returned it to the fridge. On her way back to him, she grabbed the bottle opener from the drawer. Look at that. This was his place, and she knew where he kept the bottle opener. Even in casual clothes she was neat and tidy. She always looked nice. Always a little makeup, some jewelry. Nothing flashy, but she could pull off flashy if she wanted to.
She opened the other Lagunitas and pushed it in front of him.
He met her eyes, and that river of quiet that ran through her flipped him upside down, and it occurred to him that they’d come along way in the time they’d been here. Not enough. But some.
She popped the top on her Hop Rod and took a drink. “Telos said some interesting things.”
“Like what?”
“Like maybe I’m trying too hard.”
“Yeah?”
She shrugged. “Yeah.”
He grabbed his beer, too. “Take the rest of the day off then.”
She put down her beer and cocked her head. “Palla?”
He grunted a response, but when he looked up she was ashen, and that amped him up. “What?”
“Oh my God. I think I’ve figured it out.” She put a hand over her lower face.
He took a long slow drink from his beer then set down the bottle. “What do you mean you’ve figured it out? Figured what out?”
“What if it’s not because I can’t? What if it’s because I keep trying the way everyone says to, but it doesn’t work because that’s not how I am.”
He leaned an elbow against the counter behind him. “I don’t get where you’re going with this.”
“Most of the street witches, when their magic comes on, they either cope, go insane, or die.”
“Right.”
“I didn’t.”
He toasted her with his beer. “You’re a survivor.”
“That’s right.” She walked to him and took his face in her hands. She had to stand up straight to do that. He stared at her. Really stared. Round face, but with cheekbones that made her interesting to look at. Big, dark eyes. Pretty eyes. Brown skin smooth as silk where he touched her. In a low voice, she said, “I am not like other the witches.”
“No.” He blinked a couple of times, and everything shifted. Oh, shit. Oh, shit, she was right. “You’re not.”
“I’m like one of those optical illusions where you have to make yourself see the other image. Which way is the lady spinning? Is it two vases or one face? Some people look their whole lives and never see.”
“Show me.” He put down his beer. “Show me what you mean.”
Chapter 10
She’d have moved away except Palla’s fingers tightened on her. He wasn’t hurting her or scaring her, he was just…vivid right now, and Palla, as she’d already knew, was formidable when he decided to pay attention to you. The way he’d decided to pay attention to her now.
“Show me.” Flecks of color swirled across his eyes. She’d seen that effect dozen of times now, but it still took her aback. When his eyes were like that, he was holding power. Ready to use it, and just like always, she could not feel it when any other witch would have. She concentrated on that hollowness in her middle. The place she’d always thought ought to hold her magic and did not. She stopped trying to fill in that place and instead concentrated on where the void was not.
Awareness of Palla blossomed in the center of her chest. A supernova. “There it is. Palla, it’s there..”
“I can feel your magic. What did you do?”
“It’s like it’s inverted, turned inside out or something.” She trembled because she hadn’t thought it was work but it hand and now everything was different. Palla put a steadying hand on her shoulder. “That’s why nobody sees it.”
His gaze burned through her, eyes almost entirely gold now. “Including me.”
“You knew. You knew there was something.”
“Something.”
She gripped his arm, God, she was still shaking. Couldn’t stop shaking. “I need to stop doing it the way everyone’s been telling me. Forget it all.” She could feel the difference, but the key that would unlock how it worked kept slipping away, just out of reach.
“Let me in. Let me in so I can see what you’re doing.” He extended a hand palm up and sliced the side of his nail across the tip of his index finger. The motion was sharp and fast, and because she was watching she saw the transformation of fingernail to talon and back. Red welled from the slice he’d made. He held his hand between them.
She touched the back of her skull. “What is that?”
“We link and see what happens. The blood makes a link easier. We don’t do it with the street witches because it’s more intense.” He offered his hand again. “I’m not talking about an oath. It’s not permanent and it’s not an indwell either. This’ll juice it a little, that’s all.”
“I’ll tell you want happens. I get sick to my stomach.”
“Not this time,” he whispered. “You’re right. Your magic is different. It’s protecting you—you’re protecting yourself from something that could have killed you, and you still managed to ho
ok into it and use it.” A lock of his black hair fell across his forehead the way hers never would unless she used chemical straighteners. It was a look she couldn’t afford on her salary. “Angel, my blood is going to be the best thing that ever happened to you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Jesus, how does any woman resist you?
“You know it.” His voice was rich as melted chocolate.
Their eyes locked, and her stomach did a slow flip, and that did not make any sense. She put that out of her mind because she did not want him thinking she was hot for him. She wasn’t. “What do I do?”
“Nothing you normally do.”
“Big help.”
He shrugged. Palla’s eyes had changed; all the parts that should have been different colors were variations of gold. Pupil, iris, sclera, and through all that were moving flecks of color; yellow and bronze, whirling, appearing, disappearing. Now and then one of the flecks glittered green. He drew her close and held his finger to her lips. “Make it happen, Wallace.”
She took his finger in her mouth, and his blood was warm. A sizzle spread through her, a thousand sparks. Just like those flecks of color in his eyes.
“Angel, I need permission.”
She knew that. The rules were that a demon needed permission to make a psychic link with a human. Maddy had made a big deal out of all the witches understanding what was allowed and not allowed and what it meant to consent to certain acts with a demon. Like Palla.
“I need the word.”
“Yes.”
She abandoned the visualizations Maddy had them run through, and there was that space in her that was shaped, not formed. The emptiness that was there ll the time. A void she could shape, not one that took shape. She concentrated on the container of the void in her middle and—
He was there in her mind, and she wasn’t sick to her stomach because he was wasn’t reaching into her head the way demons did. Instead, she was letting in him through the edges of the void inward, and he followed that path instead of the one he was used to.