Forsaken (36 page)

“Ah, got to go. The meeting’s about to start,” she fibbed.

“Give me call later, okay?” Peter asked.

“Sure.”

When she joined Simon he dropped a kiss on her cheek.

“Tease,” she said, feeling bubbly and warm inside. Ori was gorgeous and everything, but Simon hit all the right places. She felt whole when she was with him, and right now that meant so much when the rest of her life was an empty shell.

“Let’s take a walk,” he said. The glint in his eyes told her he had other things in mind.

As they walked by the empty jugs, she paused. “Hold on.” Kneeling, she wetted her finger and tested the labels. The ink didn’t run.

“What are you doing?” Simon asked.

“Just checking something.” She wouldn’t share the news, not with Simon or Beck. If somehow she was wrong she didn’t want Harper taking it out on them.

This is my deal. And my dad’s.
She’d just finish what he’d started.

Simon’s hand touched hers as they walked around the side of the Tabernacle. Her worry about the meeting faded. Being with him helped her forget her troubles, made her feel so good.

Is this what it’s like to fall in love?

“There’s a quiet place back here,” he suggested, heading toward the rear of the building. It
was
quiet, nestled away from street. He pulled her into the shadows.

“That’s better.” Before she could say a word, he kissed her, a tentative peck on her lips.

“More?” he asked, watching her reaction closely.

“More.”

The next kiss went on longer. Riley felt the warmth in her chest, then even lower. He pulled her closer, sliding a hand under her coat, then her sweater, his palm pressing against the small of her back. It felt wonderful and she didn’t want him to stop.

“If Harper catches us,” he whispered in her ear.

“We’ll both be shoveling demon crap for months,” she replied.

The next kiss deepened, became more urgent, needy. There was no space between them, and she could feel he enjoyed their closeness. Riley heard him moan and they reluctantly broke apart.

Simon sighed. “Such a temptation.”

“But I’m worth it, right?”

The sparkling blue in his eyes told her he thought so. They sat on the steps that led to the fire escape. Content, she nestled herself against his shoulder, and Simon placed his arm around her, drawing her close.

“I really like you, Riley,” he said. “In case you haven’t noticed.”

“Good to hear it,” she said. “Just part of my cunning plan.”

“Whatever that plan is, it’s working.”

They fell silent for a few minutes, just being close. She could hear his heartbeat slow to normal. Other guys might have tried to push her into something she didn’t want, move too fast, but Simon hadn’t.

Which is why I like you so much.

When the quiet became unbearable, she asked, “Why do you want to be a trapper?”

“Because it’s a holy crusade,” he replied without hesitation. “Like being a priest. I’m fighting against the forces of evil.”

The strength in his voice said he believed every word. That made sense: Simon’s world was black and white, right and wrong.

“I’ve upset you, haven’t I?” he asked, quieter now. “I do that when I go all religious on people.”

“It’s just that…” She hesitated. “The demons, for instance. There’s a big difference between a Magpie and a Geo-Fiend.”

Simon shook his head. “They’re both Lucifer’s minions. It doesn’t matter if one’s less of a danger than another. They should be destroyed.”

“Even a Magpie? I mean, they’re not evil.” The demon flitting around her apartment was kinda cute, actually, in a larcenous sort of way.

“Doesn’t matter. They belong to Lucifer and warrant destruction,” he said resolutely.

Suddenly it all made sense. “You want to be a hunter and work for the Vatican, don’t you?”

He pulled back, studying her as if to see whether she could be trusted with a great secret. “I do, but I’d appreciate it if you don’t mention my plans to the others. Especially Harper.”

“I won’t.” The rivalry between the trappers and the hunters went way back, centuries even. Trappers caught demons. Hunters killed them. But that wasn’t all. Hunters had the legal right to arrest, charge, and execute anyone who made a pact with Lucifer. Sometimes that was a trapper, which didn’t make for good relations. It didn’t happen much anymore, but the hunters still held those powers and all the trappers knew it.

She eyed Simon solemnly, trying to sort out her feelings for him. He seemed so gentle, so thoughtful, but that’s not what a demon hunter was all about.

“Could you kill someone if you thought they were working for Hell?”

To her relief she didn’t get an “Oh sure, no problem, they deserve to die” answer. Instead, she could see him wrestling with the question.

“Possibly,” he said, brows furrowed.

“Even if it was some young kid? Could you do it?” she asked, fearing the answer. Was there a heartless monster lurking inside of him?

Simon’s face clouded. “I don’t know.” He pulled her close again. “Too many questions. You make me wonder if I really know what I want in life. Besides, you that is.”

Riley’s heart double-beat. They were definitely moving this relationship along at warp speed. As if sensing her bewildered emotions, he tugged her closer and they remained that way until it was time to go inside. For once, Riley wished the rest of the world didn’t exist.

THIRTY-FOUR

By the time they returned to their seats there were forty-some trappers milling around the center of the hall, trading stories and proudly displaying their latest wounds. It was definitely a guy thing.

Beck gave her a curt nod, but Jackson waved, clearly pleased to see her.

“See, they’re accepting you,” Simon remarked.

“Some of them.”

Riley had expected her personal nemesis to tromp over and annoy her right off, but Beck and his two beer bottles kept their distance. If anything, he was pointedly ignoring her.

You are so jealous.

It was Harper that worried her. If she was going to tell the Guild what she’d discovered, her master had to know about it first. That was the way things worked.

She took a deep breath and went to him. “Sir?”

“Yeah?” he said, his bloodshot eyes telling her it hadn’t been a good day. “What do you want?”

“I’ve discovered something about the Holy Water. Not all the bottles are the real stuff. Some of it doesn’t work like it should, and I’d like to tell the Guild what I found.”

His intense gaze made her itch. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me about this before?”

“I just figured it out this afternoon.”

He thought for a moment.

What if he doesn’t let me tell them?
What would she do then?

“Ah, what the hell, go ahead. I can’t wait to hear this,” he said, leaning back in his chair. The sly grin told her he was looking forward to her public humiliation.

“Thank you, sir.” Right before she moved away, he grabbed her arm, digging in those fingers, causing Riley to grit her teeth. Why had she let her guard down?

He leaned toward her and whispered, “You make me look bad and you’ll pay for it, girl.”

I already am.

When Collins called the meeting to order, she made a point of not sitting near her master, breaking with tradition. Simon weighed his options and sat next to her.

You might regret that.

After roll call, Collins started the meeting. “You heard about that TV show coming to town?”

Hoots of derision echoed through the big hall.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Collins said. “The producers want to work with us. They say they want the show to be more
realistic.
”

“They can start by making the demons look like the real deal,” Jackson said. “I’ve yet to meet one who wears an Armani suit and drives a Ferrari.”

“Ah, hell, they all do,” Morton replied. “At least in L.A.”

Laughter broke out.

“They asked if a couple of us would show them around the city, let them see what we really do,” Collins explained.

“Why aren’t they working with the Vatican?” Jackson inquired.

“The Vatican’s reps shot them down, so now they want to slum with us.”

“Setting us up to make us look stupid,” Harper said.

“That’s a real possibility,” Collins replied, “but if we blow them off we might regret it.”

“What about those hotties? Are they coming?” a young trapper called out.

“A few are. And they’re paying for our time. Do I have volunteers?”

Hands shot up, and Collins took note of the names. The promise of babes and cash tipped the scales. Riley was surprised to see Beck wasn’t one of the volunteers.

The president pointed right at her. “And you too.”

“Me?” Riley squeaked.

“They say they want a female’s take on all this,” he said. “You okay with that?”

She felt Simon stir next her. “Get Harper’s permission first,” he whispered.

Good idea.

“Only if Master Harper is okay with it,” she said.

The old trapper’s eyebrows arched upward, like he’d figured out her game. “As long as the work gets done,” he said, nodding.

Don’t worry, you’ll get a cut of the money.

“Then I’ll let them know we’re good to go,” Collins said, making a note on a piece of paper.

Riley couldn’t believe how easy that’d been. Maybe not toasting Brandy and her bunch had been a good thing.

Collins consulted his notes. “Anything else?”

Her heart jumped when Harper rose to his feet.

What is he doing?

“Blackthorne’s kid,” Harper began. Riley winced. “She ran into some trouble the other day when I sent her over to Roscoe’s to sell some Ones.”

Beck’s eyes rose from his brew. His reaction was instant: The muscles along his jaw tensed as the knuckles on his right hand tightened around the beer bottle.

Let it go. Don’t piss him off. He’ll just take it out on me.

“What was the trouble?” Collins asked.

“Roscoe offered her one-twenty a piece for the demons as long as she didn’t do the paperwork.”

Beck’s eyes snapped to her. She saw condemnation in them.

You think I sold them under the table. You jerk!

“She told him to stuff it up his ass,” Harper explained.

Beck sagged in relief. She glowered at him, and he shrugged in apology.

“No trafficker’s ever tried to roll one of my apprentices.” Harper’s scar tightened along with his jaw. “It’s not going to happen again, I can tell you.”

“You’ll handle it?” Collins asked.

“Damned straight.” The master returned to his seat.

Riley let out the air she’d kept pent up.

“Anything else?” Collins asked.

Now or never.
Riley pulled herself out of the seat, her heart thudding.

“Yes sir … I … have something.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Harper’s face; it resembled a vulture waiting for something to die so he could feast on its corpse. She ignored him, focusing on the podium so she didn’t lose her nerve.

“I have a question about the Holy Water. Is it possible for it to be blessed in different batches?”

Master Stewart shook his head. “I’ve been ta the plant. They’ve got massive tanks, holdin’ hundreds of gallons of water. The priest blesses one tank at a time. Then all they do is put it in the bott-els.”

“So every batch number should have the same consecration date?” she asked, feeling excitement rising within her. That’s what the brochure said, but she wanted to lay the foundation for her radical claim.

“Of course. Why ya askin’, lass?”

“I found some of my dad’s notes. He was trying to find out why the Holy Water didn’t always work right. He was worried that the demons were building up a tolerance to it.”

Collins and Stewart traded looks. “Go on,” the Guild’s president urged.

“This is a master list of all the production runs for the last six months,” she said, displaying the pages. “These show the batch numbers, which include the date the Holy Water was blessed.” She set them down and took a hasty swallow from her soda.

Now it gets harder.

“I was recycling the Holy Water bottles for Master Harper and I noticed that some shared batch numbers, but the consecration dates were different.”

“You sure?” Collins asked.

Riley nodded and pulled out three of the recycled bottles, setting them in a row on the table in front of her. She put a hand on top of one of the pints. “This one was blessed ten days ago.” She continued down the line. “This one seven days ago, and this one five. They’re all from one batch. According to the manufacturer’s master list, this batch was actually blessed and bottled four months ago.”

“Let me see those,” Jackson said, walking over. He compared each of the pints, then his eyes rose to hers. “I’ll be damned. She’s right, these do have different dates. But why would someone do that?”

“Money,” Beck called out. “I’ve got a buddy who works at the plant where they bottle the stuff. He said they’re runnin’ three shifts and can’t keep up. A pint is going for ten bucks now.”

“Twelve,” Riley corrected. “I bought some before the meeting. Also the labels are different. Some of them don’t react to water; some of them smear really easily. The fake bottles have the smeary labels. I wanted you guys to know about this so you can figure out what’s going on.”

“This happened in Cleveland sometime back. Someone was refillin’ the bott-els with tap water,” Stewart said.

“So is it just bad labels, or is the Holy Water counterfeit or both?” Collins asked.

“Let’s test it,” Morton said. “Anybody got a demon in their pocket? How about you, Beck?” he jested, but she could hear the tension in his voice.

“No,” Beck replied flatly. “Wait a minute.” He turned toward her and tapped his chest. When she didn’t respond, he did it again.

The claw.
They couldn’t get a live demon across the ward, but the claw wasn’t alive.

“I think we might have something that’ll work,” she announced, pulling the silver chain into view. The black talon hung in the air, twisting at the end of the chain.