Silence.
Large bodies pushed past her, knocking her into the wall. She was too afraid to open her eyes. Where was Greyson? He didn’t usually leave her like this, didn’t force her to stand by herself, especially not when she was certain it was obvious to anyone looking that something was very, very wrong with her.
“He’s dead.” The other guard’s voice, the non-Conan one, sounded strangled somehow, confused. “Mr. Dante, the human’s dead!”
In the space between the male feet crowded around it, she saw one hand on the floor. Gerald’s hand, fingers curved up like a dead spider, pale and unmoving. The image filled her mind. Even when she closed her eyes it stayed, burned in like a photographic negative, luminous against the blackness of her eyelids. Her client was dead. Her nice, sweet, nongambling client died on the floor of a storeroom in a demon casino, with his eyes glowing and an unearthly scream—a scream almost like a laugh, she realized now—on his lips, and none of this made any sense and she thought she might faint.
“Get Dr. Chase out of here,” she heard Greyson say. “Take her to the car.” She wanted to argue but her tongue and lips didn’t seem to be under her control. Gerald was dead and she knew it was her fault. Knew it as surely as she knew her own name, knew it as surely as she knew Greyson wanted her to get in the car not just because he didn’t want her to have to look at that hand on the floor, but because he needed to get the body out of his casino before someone noticed it and called the police.
An annoying hum woke her up, and it took her a minute to remember where she was—and for other memories to flood back: the bitter taste of the pills Maleficarum had given her when he put her in the car, she and Greyson sleeping squeezed together across the big backseat, Malleus carrying her up to bed.
The room was dim when she opened her eyes, thanks to the heavy blackout shades on the windows, but there was enough light to see her stupid cell phone buzzing angrily on the bedside table.
She picked up the phone and fumbled with it, trying to find the catch to slide it open. Greyson had bought her the damn thing and she still couldn’t figure out half of the spiffy tricks it was supposed to perform, much less open it with a flick of the wrist the way he and the brothers could.
“Hello?” It hurt her throat to talk.
“Hey! I’m running a little late, do you want to meet me at four instead of three?”
Tera Green sounded chipper and well rested, the way she always did, as opposed to Megan, who, at the moment, probably sounded as wrung out and hungover as she felt.
She pulled the phone away to look at the time. It was twenty to three in the afternoon. She and Tera had a date to go shopping and have dinner. She’d totally forgotten.
Rather than admit that, though, she nodded vigorously until she remembered Tera couldn’t see her. “Yeah, of course,” she said, trying to put some enthusiasm in her voice. “I was just—just getting ready.”
“Great. I’ll see you at four, then.”
Megan echoed the response, although “great” was the last word she thought it was at the moment, and dragged herself to a sit.
“Tera?”
He sounded tired, but not as tired as she felt. She looked at him, his hair rumpled with sleep and his eyes still heavy, and nodded. “We’re going shopping.”
“What fun.” He yawned and reached for her, pulling her closer so he could rest his head in her lap. “Why don’t you stay here instead? I have some things to do but I’ll be free in a few hours.”
“And sit by myself in your room all day? No thanks.” She didn’t move, though. Memories of the night before started coming back: Gerald on the floor, the scream, the pounding in her chest…she shivered.
Greyson’s arms tightened around her. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Yes it was and you know it. I appreciate your not saying, ‘I told you so,’ though.” Her attempt to keep her tone light wasn’t very successful.
He paused. “I worried something like this might happen, but that isn’t why I want you to give up your practice. It still isn’t why.” He sat up and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her down a bit so she could rest her head on his chest. Beneath the smoky scent of his skin she still smelled last night’s whiskey and whatever Spud had put on his wound. She glanced at his arm. The bandage was gone, but a small puckered scar remained.
“Meg, people die all the time. Would it have been your fault if gentle Gerald’s problems had overwhelmed him and he’d killed himself? If he got hit by a car crossing the street because he was thinking of something you said and forgot to look both ways?”
“A demon possessed him and led him there to die, I think that’s a bit dif—”
“No, it isn’t different, it’s exactly the same. It’s too bad the guy’s dead if it bothers you, but all of your clients could die and I wouldn’t give a damn. The only life I’m interested in saving is yours. And mine, of course.”
“Of course.” She didn’t know if she believed him, didn’t know if she really felt less responsible, but the black cloud over her head seemed to lift a little just the same.
“Which is why I want you to take Malleus with you today.”
She pulled away. “No, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Tera will just have to deal with it. And don’t tell her why.”
“She’s going to know something’s up if she sees him.”
“She can think what she wants to think. What did I just say? I want you to stay safe. Malleus can make sure you do.”
“I thought the witches were just after you.”
“Call me paranoid.”
He looked, sitting on the bed framed by the black satin pillows and sheets, like a medieval king granting favors, but his eyes were tired and serious.
“If I didn’t know better I’d think you really cared,” she said. It wasn’t an unusual joke or one they’d never made before as they edged carefully around the issue of their feelings, but this time it fell flat. Her face flooded with heat.
He blinked. “Yes, well, I’ve got you rather a nice Christmas present, I’d hate to see it go to waste.” The covers whispered as he shoved them off and got out of bed. “Malleus will be waiting for you when you are ready to leave. He brought your car over last night.”
“Greyson…” But there was nothing to say.
He fastened his pants and came over to her, planting a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll try and come by tomorrow night. I have to leave early Monday, though, so don’t wait up.”
Without meaning to she reached for him, curling her fingers around his arms, stroking up and down the hard, smooth muscles. Just the feel of him under her palms made her warm.
He kissed her again, on the lips this time, lingering just a moment longer. “Unless you want to cancel on Tera after all…” His hands traveled down her ribs to her waist, where they paused.
She shook her head. Much as she wanted to stay, she was looking forward to going out into the normal world again. As normal as it could be when you were shopping with a witch and had a demon bodyguard following you. “She’ll be hurt if I cancel.”
“Just make sure you have your phone on. And be careful.”
He started to move away, but she grabbed him. “What did—what did you do with him?”
“Gerald?”
She nodded.
“Took him back to his place, put him on the bed. Someone will find him.”
The cold feeling started creeping back. He sounded so nonchalant, like he moved dead bodies around—or ordered them moved—every day. Which she supposed he might. “Who did this to him? Was it someone from a different Meegra, or—”
His knuckles under her chin forced her to look up at him. “We’ll figure it out. Meanwhile—”
“I know. Be careful, don’t tell Tera anything, and keep Malleus with me.”
“See? It’s so much better when you just obey me.”
He ducked away before she could swat him.
Chapter Four
The m
inute Megan saw Tera she looked down to see if she’d spilled something on her shirt. She hadn’t, of course. The only blot on her image was the dark shape of Malleus behind her, his gold pinkie ring flashing in the bright winter sun coming through the skylight.
Tera looked, as she always did, perfect; cool and immaculate in jeans and a black sweater, with her trapeze coat swinging behind her and her platinum hair falling in a shining curtain down her back. She was designed to make other women feel inadequate. Megan would have wondered why they were friends if the answer wasn’t so obvious—neither of them had any other friends.
Besides, she genuinely liked Tera, despite the fact that the witch had the social skills of a gnat.
They hugged and started walking through the pre-Christmas Saturday crowds. Maybe shopping wasn’t the greatest idea. Megan had expected to relax, surrounded by people to make her feel normal again. Instead she found herself itching to read them all, to open up and read the entire building, to make sure no one who shouldn’t be lurked in the corners.
Here and there little demons winked at her or waved from human shoulders and she tried to acknowledge them without looking like she was greeting everyone she passed. Where was Rocturnus? She hadn’t expected to see him when she woke up this morning—one embarrassing incident had been enough for her to forbid him from ever appearing in bedrooms, and he couldn’t enter Greyson’s place alone anyway—but she’d thought he might at least put in a quick appearance here to let her know he was okay.
“So.” Tera looked back over her shoulder, her blue eyes scanning Malleus, who stared purposefully ahead. “I see you have a guard today. Grey thinks you might get busted again?”
Megan’s stomach sank. So Tera—and thus Vergadering—did know about her arrest. “You know me, always in trouble.”
“What were you doing? Trespassing in a regular family’s house?”
“I thought it was somebody I knew.”
“And some Good Samaritan called the police and said you were murdering people.”
“Geez, Tera, did my mug shot get sent over to Vergadering as well?”
Tera waved her hand. “They didn’t take a mug shot. And I keep my ear to the ground.”
“That must get uncomfortable after a while.”
Tera smiled. “More than you know. I’m glad you’re okay, though.” She looked at Malleus again. “Hi, Malleus.”
His head barely dipped. “Miss Tera.”
Megan bit her lip. After three months he and his brothers still refused to use her own first name, insisting it was disrespectful.
If Tera knew she’d just been insulted, she either didn’t care or didn’t show she cared. “Look at that blouse, what do you think?”
Megan dutifully looked. Pink and white stripes ran vertically up the tailored shirt. It suited Tera. “Sure, try it on.”
Tera tried. Tera bought. The process repeated itself several times, while Megan grew more and more uneasy. The mall, with its garish every-religion-in-the-world decorations and piped-in cheery music was never her favorite place anyway, and now she was feeling claustrophobic. Life among the crowds had never made her especially happy and the relentless pushing and shoving forced her to shield so hard she lost the train of her rambling conversation with Tera.
“I’m sorry, what?” she asked again. Tera sighed.
“Come on. Let’s get a snack or something and sit down. There’s a new store by the food court. I want to check in there and then we’ll have dinner.”
“We’re getting a snack right before dinner?”
“Some of us like to eat.”
“I like to eat.”
“When you remember to.” Tera looked her up and down. “Your life of crime keeping you too busy to eat?”
Megan waited while Tera ordered a gooey cinnamon bun, then said, “It was just a misunderstanding and nobody pressed charges. As you know.”
“I still think it’s weird.”
“You know me, weird Megan the crazy demon woman.”
“You’re not a demon.” Tera shoved a piece of bun in her mouth. “Despite being hip deep in them all the time. Or the other way around, so to speak.”
Megan blushed. “I can’t just magically disconnect myself from them.”
“But your demons aren’t the same. They just do their thing and stay out of the way. You can do whatever it is you do with them and stay yourself. You can keep your practice. You can keep your life.”
Megan didn’t tell her about the discussions she and Greyson had been having lately—the closest thing to arguments they’d ever had—about her practice. “I still have my life.”
“Right. That’s why you were arrested for breaking and entering.”
“It wasn’t breaking and entering, it was trespassing. I didn’t break in.”
Did Tera really not know why Megan had been in that house? Did she really not know about the other demons exploding, about—Megan swallowed—about Gerald?
Somehow she’d managed to forget about Gerald as they wandered the mall. Now the memory rushed back, so vivid and painful Megan had to brace herself against the cheap Formica table to keep from curling up into a ball. Her involvement with the demons had already killed one innocent person, if her instinct about what happened the night before was right. Whatever Greyson said about the inevitability of death or the possibility of accident, something demonic had gotten hold of Gerald, and it was related somehow to her.
“So you were trespassing. Want to tell me why?”
Megan blinked. “Is this an official inquiry?”
“No. The normal police bought your story, so Vergadering isn’t investigating. But I’d like to know. I worry about you, Megan. I’m your friend. Aren’t I?”
“Of course you are.” Megan shrugged. “I was trying to surprise a friend. Someone from the station. I had the wrong house, that’s all.”
Tera’s eyes narrowed. Megan forced herself to look into them and think innocent thoughts. She didn’t want to lie to Tera. Tera knew a lot about a lot of things. She’d worked for Vergadering for a dozen years now, and Megan would have loved to spill it all to her, to tell her about the demon explosions and the assassination attempt and Gerald and see if the witch could make sense of it.
Just having an actual discussion about it would be nice, an opportunity to think out loud to another person. Nobody played their cards as close to the chest as Greyson did, and while Megan was used to it—even liked it, most of the time, because she did the same—there were moments when she wished he was more forthcoming.
But if Greyson was right and it had been witches trying to kill them in that mad car chase…she didn’t want to talk about that with Tera. Couldn’t talk about it with Tera, much as she wanted to try and pick her friend’s brain. If Tera didn’t know anything, it could be awkward, and if she did…that could be even more awkward. Not to mention dangerous.
“I thought you trusted me,” Tera said.
“I do. Tera, what is going on? You don’t usually grill me about this stuff. Aren’t you going to tell me more about Roger or Todd or whoever else you’re dating now who you don’t really like? Or tell me how my top isn’t the right color or something?”
“It’s not. It washes you out.” But she smiled. “I’m sorry. I get a little cranky around the holidays, I guess, and we’ve been hearing some odd—well, I just don’t want to see you get so involved with demons that you forget who and what you are.”
“I’m not forgetting anything.” She glanced up. “What odd things have you been hearing?”
“Oh, nothing. Just that there’s some unrest in the demon world.” Tera was a good liar, but even without being able to read her Megan still knew. It saddened her a little, the same way she imagined her refusal to open up saddened Tera. In the three months they’d been friends, they’d never run into a situation where they really couldn’t discuss something.
“Come on,” she said, getting up. Malleus stood as well, his beefy arms still crossed, his expression grim. Hi
s contempt for witches was ingrained, had been ever since he’d been born and named. “You wanted to check that dress shop, right?”
The air between them seemed to clear a bit as they threw away the remains of Tera’s snack and shoved through the crowds. Or rather, Malleus shoved, and they followed in his wake.
“I’m beginning to think I was wrong about him,” Tera murmured. “He’s pretty handy to have in a crowd, isn’t he?”
Malleus’s shoulders twitched, but he said nothing. Megan seized the opportunity and lied, “That’s why he’s here.”
“A favor?”
“Sort of.”
“And how will you be repaying that favor, hmm?”
Megan blushed. Tera laughed and patted her on the shoulder. “Hey, better than—”
“Mr. Brown!” Malleus’s public code name. Who was—
A short, stylish little man threw himself across the shop as they entered. Megan started to jump out of the way, but the broad grin on the man’s face and his outstretched arms stopped her in midjump, turning it into a sort of awkward jerk that made Tera raise her eyebrows.
“Mr. Brown, so good to have you here, I’m so honored! Is Mr. Dante—oh!” His shining eyes lit on Megan. “Dr. Chase, isn’t it?”
Megan nodded, her face burning. She didn’t need to look at Tera to imagine her friend’s expression.
The man reached for her hand, then thought better of it and bowed instead. “Dr. Chase, I’m so pleased—so pleased! Come in, come in, sit down. What would you like today? A dress? A purse, some shoes?”
“I’m just looking,” Megan managed as the little man ushered her through the shop without actually touching her and indicated a padded bench for her to sit on. Tera sat next to her, smirking.
“Nonsense! You don’t need to look, we’ll look for you, you just sit here.”