For a Few Demons More (28 page)

Mr. Ray met her gaze, and something I didn't understand passed between them. David felt it. So did every Were in the place. Like a wave, they all relaxed. I felt ill when both packs shifted and every weapon was put away. My worry tightened.
Damn and double damn. I can't afford to trust this.

“I didn't target your aide,” Mr. Ray said, his thick arms going to rest atop the table.

“I didn't touch your secretary,” the woman said, taking out a compact and checking her makeup. It snapped shut, and she met his eyes squarely. “No one in my pack did either.”

Just peachy damn keen.
They were talking, but I didn't think I was in control. “Fine,” I said. “Nobody is killing anybody, but we still have two murdered Weres.” The two of them had given me their full attention, and my stomach knotted. “Look,” I said, very uncomfortable, “someone besides us knows the focus is in Cincinnati and is looking for it. It might be the island Weres. Has either of you heard of a new pack in town?”

As I thought of Brett, they both shook their heads.

Okay. Swell. Back to square one.
I wanted them to leave, so I leaned back as if in dismissal. I'd seen Trent do it a couple of times, and it seemed to work for him. “I'll keep looking for the murderer, then,” I said, glancing at their thugs. “Until I figure out who's doing this, will you two let go of each other's throats?”

Mr. Ray sniffed loudly. “I will if she does.”

Mrs. Sarong's smile was stilted and clearly false. “I can do the same. I need to make a few calls. Before sunset.” A pointed look at her daughter and the young woman excused herself, cell phone in hand as she went outside. Mr. Ray gestured, and one of his men followed her.

I wondered what Mrs. Sarong had planned for sunset, then dismissed it. I didn't like the two of them fighting, but I liked this cooperation even less. Perhaps it was time for a little personal CYA. “The focus is hidden,” I said.
Sort of.
“It's in the ever-after,” I continued, and they stared at me, Mr. Ray's fingers twitching.
Liar,
I thought, not feeling a twinge of guilt. “Neither of you can find it, much less get it.”
Lie, lie, li-i-i-ie.
“If I go missing, neither of you gets it. If any of my friends or family go missing, I'm going to destroy it.”

Ever the one to test the limits in as crass a manner as possible, Mr. Ray harrumphed. “And I should take you seriously because…?”

I stood, wanting them to leave. “Because you were ready to hire me to do something you couldn't. Kill Mrs. Sarong.”

Mrs. Sarong smiled at him and shrugged.

Just a bit more,
I thought,
and maybe I can sleep tonight.
“And because I have a demon who owes me a favor,” I added, my pulse quickening.

No,
a small part of my mind whispered, and I stifled a surge of fear for what I was doing. I was accepting that Minias owed me. I was accepting his bargain. I was dealing with demons. But the thought of these two people descending upon my life, setting fire to my church and burning it to the ground in search of that stupid statue filled me with a more immediate fear. Fear for myself, I could deal with. Fear for others, I couldn't.

“If something happens I don't like,” I said, “he's going to come looking for you. And you know what?” My pulse pounded, and I held the table for balance as vertigo took me. “He likes killing things, so he might be a little overzealous about it. It wouldn't surprise me if he took you both out to be sure he gets the right person.”

Mr. Ray's eyes dropped to my wrist, my demon mark clearly visible.

“Make your calls,” I said, ready to dissolve into the shakes. “Calm your people. And keep your mouths shut. If the word gets out I've got it, it will decrease your chances that you'll find a way around my demon and get it yourself.” I took a moment and captured their eyes. “Do we have an understanding?”

Mrs. Sarong stood, her purse in her tight grip before her. “Thank you for the drink, Ms. Morgan. It was a most enlightening conversation.”

Kisten came out from behind the bar as she headed for the door, her entire entourage flowing into her wake. The sun entered in a flash as the door opened, and I squinted, feeling like I had been at the bottom of a hole for three weeks. Mr. Ray looked me up and down, his fleshy cheeks slack and unmoving. Giving me a nod, he made a gesture to his people and followed her out, their pace slow and provocative, weapons tucked away as they filed through the door.

I stood where I was until the last of them passed the threshold. I waited a bit longer until the door slipped shut and put me back in darkness. Only then did I give in and let my knees buckle. I could hear Kisten crossing the room, and I put my head on the table and sighed.

I had a reputation for dealing with demons. I didn't want it, but if it would keep those I loved safe, then I was going to use it.

Kisten's boat was big enough that the wake from the tourist steamers just smacked into it, never making the sleek cruiser move. I'd been on it before, even spent a couple of weekends learning how well voices carry over dark, still water and to take my shoes off at the dock. It was three decks if you counted the highest where the controls were. Big enough to party on, as Kisten said, but small enough that he didn't feel like he had extended his reach.

Well, it's beyond my reach,
I thought as I sopped up the last of the spaghetti sauce off the lightweight china with a corner of grilled bread. But if you were a vampire whose boss ran the uglier parts of Cincinnati's underground, appearances mattered.

The bread had been swiped from Piscary's kitchen nearby. I had a feeling the sauce had been, too. I didn't care if Kisten was trying to pass it off as his own cooking by warming it up on his tiny stove. The point was, we were having a relaxing dinner instead of arguing that I had put my job before his plans to take me out for my birthday.

I looked up and across the candlelit, sunken living room, my plate balanced on my lap. We could have eaten in the kitchen or out on the spacious veranda, but the kitchen was claustrophobic and the veranda too exposed. My encounter with Mr. Ray and Mrs. Sarong had me uneasy. Add on Tom's shunned invitation and you could color me paranoid.

Being surrounded by four walls was much better. The luxuriously appointed living room stretched from one side of the boat to the other, looking like a movie set, with wide windows showing the city lights and moon shining on water to one side, curtains closed on the other so I didn't have to look at Piscary's parking lot.

Technically Kisten was working—which was why we were here and not at a real restaurant—but when we had slipped into the kitchen to snatch a bottle of wine and the bread, I'd heard him tell Steve that he didn't want to be bothered unless blood was in someone's mouth.

It felt nice to sit that high in his priorities, and with my face still holding the pleasure from that thought, I lifted my eyes, finding Kisten watching me from across the low coffee table between us, the candlelight giving his blue eyes an artificial, dangerous darkness.

“What?” I asked, flushing since he obviously had been watching me for some time.

His contented smile deepened, and a thrill of emotion lifted through me. “Nothing.” His voice was soft. “Every thought you have crosses your face. I like watching.”

“Mmmm.” Embarrassed, I set my plate atop his empty one and leaned into the couch, wineglass in hand. He stood and in a hunched motion shifted to sit beside me. Easing back, he exhaled in satisfaction when our shoulders touched. The stereo changed tracks, and light jazz came on. I wasn't going to say anything about the incongruity of mixing vampires and a soprano saxophone but sighed, enjoying the scent of leather and silk blending with his scent of incense and the lingering odor of pasta sauce. But my smile vanished when my nose started to tickle.

Crap. Minias? I don't have my scrying mirror.
In a panic I sat up and out of Kisten's arms. My wineglass hit the coffee table just in time for a sneeze.

“Bless you,” Kisten said softly, his hand curving about my waist to draw me back, but when I stiffened, he leaned forward. “You okay?” he added, real concern in his voice.

“I'll let you know in a minute.” I took a careful breath, then another. My shoulders eased. Not wanting to worry Ivy or Jenks, I had shut myself in my room before sunset and set my password. Damn it, I should have scribed the glyph on a compact mirror.

Kisten was peering at me, and I said, “I'm fine,” deciding it was only a sneeze. Exhaling slowly, I slumped into his warmth. His arm went behind my neck, and I pressed into him, glad he was here, and I was here, and neither of us had to be anywhere.

“You've been quiet tonight,” Kisten said. “Are you sure you're okay?” His fingers began tracing a path along my neck, hunting for my demon scar, hidden under my perfect skin, and the light touch tickled.

He was asking after me, but I knew his thoughts were on Ivy's kiss. And with his fingers bringing my scar alight to mix the memory of it with the sensations he was pulling from me, I stifled a shudder of adrenaline. “I've a lot on my mind,” I said, not liking how his touch and the memory of Ivy's kiss combined. I was confused enough already.

Turning in his arms to face him, I drew out of his reach, scrambling for something else to focus on. “I think I've gotten in over my head this time, is all. With the Weres?”

Kisten's blue eyes went soft. “After watching you curb two of Cincinnati's more influential packs, I would say that no, you aren't over your head.” His smile widened, taking on a tinge of pride. “It was great watching you work, Rachel. You're good at this.”

A puff of disbelief escaped me. It wasn't the Weres that had me worried, but how I'd gotten them to back off. Exasperated, I threw my head back against the top of the couch and closed my eyes. “Couldn't you see me shaking?”

My eyes flew open when Kisten's weight shifted, and I slid into him. Our hair mingled, and with his lips brushing my ear he said, “No.” His breath came and went on my shoulder, and I didn't move but for sending my fingers to play with his torn earlobe. “I like a woman who can take care of herself,” he added. “Watching you got me all hot.”

I couldn't help my smile, but it faded distressingly fast. “Kisten?” I said, feeling vulnerable despite having his arms around me. “Really, I'm scared. But not about the Weres.”

Kisten's searching fingers stopped. Removing his encircling arm, he leaned back and took my hands in his. “What is it?” he said, concern heavy in his gaze.

Embarrassed, I looked at our twined fingers and saw the differences. “I had to use the threat of a demon to get them to back off.” I lifted my gaze, seeing the worry etching his brow. “It makes me feel like
a demon practitioner,” I finished. “I'm an idiot for using a demon as a bluff. Or a coward, maybe.”

“Love…” Kisten drew my head to rest against his chest. “You aren't a coward or a practitioner. It's a bluff, and a damned good one.”

“But what if it isn't a bluff?” I said into his shirt, thinking of all the people I had tagged for practicing black magic. They hadn't intended to become the fanatical, crazed people I threw in the back of a cab and hauled off to the I.S. “Some guy talked to me today,” I said, fiddling with the top button of his shirt. “He invited me to join their demon cult.”

“Mmmm.” His voice rumbled through me. “And what did my bad-ass runner tell him?”

“That he could take his club and shove it.” Kisten said nothing, and I added, “What if they call my bluff? If they hurt Ivy or Jenks…”

“Shhhh,” he hushed, his hand gentle against my hair. “No one is going to hurt Ivy; she's a Tamwood vampire and Piscary's scion. And why would anyone hurt Jenks?”

“Because they know he's important to me.” I lifted my head, taking a breath of the fresher air. “I might do it,” I said, frightened. “If anyone hurts Jenks or his family, I might call Minias and trade in my mark.”

“Minias.” Kisten's surprise showed. “I thought you were supposed to keep their names secret.”

There had been more than a hint of jealousy in it, and I felt the beginnings of a smile. “That's his casual name. He has red goat-slitted eyes, a funny purple hat, and a crazy girlfriend.”

Kisten pulled me closer and settled his arms around me. “Maybe I should call this guy. Take him bowling so we can compare crazy-girl-friend notes.”

“Stop it,” I chided him, but he had managed to shift my mood. “You're jealous.”

“Hell yes, I'm jealous.” He was silent for a moment, then leaned forward. “I want to give you your present early,” he said, reaching around the arm of the couch and to the floor.

Twisting, I put my back against the arm of the couch more firmly. Kisten set the obviously store-wrapped package in my hands, and I beamed. The ribbon about it was imprinted with
VALERIA'S CRYPT
, an exclusive supplier of clothing where the less fabric there was, the bigger the dent it would make in your checking account.

“What is it?” I asked, giving the shirt-size box a shake, and something thunked.

“Open it and see,” he said, his eyes flicking from me to the box.

There was something odd in his behavior. Sort of an embarrassed eagerness. Not one to save paper, I ripped it off and tossed it, running a fingernail under the single piece of tape holding the box shut. Black tissue paper rustled, and I warmed when I saw what was under it.

“Oh, this is nice!” I said, lifting the teddy up. “Just in time for summer nights.”

“It's edible,” Kisten said, his eyes glinting.

“Whoa!” I exclaimed, hefting its light weight and wondering how we might explore this new option. Remembering the thing thunking around, I set the teddy aside. “What else is in here?” I questioned, rummaging. My fingers found a small, fuzzy box, and when I recognized its shape, my face lost all expression. It was a ring box.
Oh, my God.
“Kisten?” I breathed, eyes wide.

“Open it,” he prompted, scooting closer.

Hands trembling, I turned it to find the opening. I didn't know what to do. I loved Kist, but I wasn't ready to be engaged. Hell, I was hardly ready to be anyone's girlfriend. What with two Were packs after my hide, demons showing up whenever, a master vampire itching to have at me. Not to mention a roommate who wanted to be more and me not knowing what to do about it. And how could I embark on a permanent relationship when I wouldn't let him bite me?

“But, Kisten…” I stammered, pulse racing.

“Just open it,” he urged impatiently.

Holding my breath, I wedged it open. I blinked. It wasn't a ring. It was a pair of…

“Caps?” I questioned. Relief spilled through me. I looked up to see his fluster. They weren't his caps. No, these were sharp and pointy.
And they're for me?

“If you don't like them, I'll take them back,” he said, his usual confidence gone. “I thought it might be fun sometime. If you wanted to…”

My eyes closed. It wasn't a ring. It was a toy. I should have known after the edible teddy. “You bought me caps?”

“Well, yes. What did you think they were?”

I went to tell him, then closed my mouth. Flushing, I set the box
aside and looked at the caps in their velvet cushion. Okay, it wasn't a ring, but where was this leading? “Kisten, I can't let you bite me.” Closing the lid with a snap, I extended them to him. “I can't accept these.”

But Kisten was smiling. “Rachel,” he coaxed. “That's not why I bought them.”

“Why, then?” I said, thinking he had put me in a very awkward position. I couldn't help but wonder if this had been a reaction to Ivy's kiss.

Placing the box back in my hands, he curved my fingers around it. “This isn't a backward way to wiggle my teeth into your neck. I'm not even looking for
you
to bite
me,
though that would be…” He took a breath. “Nice.”

I could tell it was the truth, and my agitation eased.

Kisten dropped his gaze. “I wanted to see you with little pointy teeth,” he said softly. “It's bedroom play. Like wearing a teddy. Sort of like…window dressing.”

“You don't like my teeth?” I said, unhappy. Damn it, I wasn't a vampire, and he wanted more. This sucked royally.

But Kisten pulled me to him with a rueful chuckle. “Rachel, I adore your teeth,” he said, his silk shirt against my cheek. “They nibble and pinch, and that you can't easily break my skin drives me fu—” He caught the next word, sensitive to my disapproval. “Crazy,” he finished. “But with you wearing those caps and me knowing you
could
break my skin?” A sigh lifted through him. “I don't care if you bite me or not. It's the thought that you could that's exciting.”

His hand against my hair was soothing, and the last of my confusion vanished. This I understood. I found a thrill in the same way. Knowing that Kisten could bite me but held back because of respect, will, and perhaps Ivy was enough to get my rush going full tilt. That someday his will might not be strong enough or he might be willing to stand down Ivy was the attraction.

“You…ah, want me to try them on?” I said.

His eyes were dilating. “If you want to.”

Smiling, I shifted my body and opened the box again. “You just slip them on?”

He nodded. “They're coated with some miracle polymer. Put them on and clench your teeth, and they'll mold right to them. They'll come off with a little prying.”

Cool.
His eyes were on them, and I set the box on the table, the unfamiliar smoothness of bone under my fingers as I picked them up. Feeling like I was putting on contacts, I fumbled until I figured out which one went where and slipped the molded bone over my teeth. They felt odd as I gritted my teeth. Lips parted, I ran my tongue across the inside.

Kisten inhaled, and my attention went to him. “Damn, woman.” The rim of blue about his pupils shrank. My smile widened, and, seeing it, his eyes flashed to black.

“What do they look like?” I said, jumping up.

“Where are you going?” he said, his voice holding a sudden urgency.

“I want to see what they look like.” Laughing, I pulled away from him and headed for the bathroom down the hall. “Are you sure I won't cut my lip?” I asked when I found it. The overhead light flicked on, yellow and dim from the low voltage.

“You can't,” Kisten said, his voice raised against the distance. “They're designed not to,” he added from right behind me, and I jumped, smacking my elbow into the wall in the tight confines.

“God! I hate it when you do that!” I exclaimed.