Personal Demon (44 page)

I glanced around, searching the shadows alongside every darkened building. Looking for Karl, even as I hoped he wouldn’t risk coming so close.

Paige had agreed to meet me. She’d been smart enough not to give anything away on the phone, in case Jaz or Sonny was listening, just like she’d been smart enough not to press for details. But I could tell by her tone that she understood.

And so, as we waited for her, the Cabal SWAT team would be taking up position two blocks away, near the meeting site.

Jaz gave another low laugh, and his fingers traced a line under my left breast. “You
do
feel it. Your heart’s racing.”

His voice dropped, breathing accelerating as his fingers slid over my breast. He squeezed my nipple. I wrenched out of his grasp and wheeled. He backed up, hands raised, palms out.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean that, Hope. I’ll never—I won’t push. I swear it. I just…”

His gaze traveled down me, eyelids half closing as his lips parted. Then a sharp, full-body shake.

“Damn, damn, damn. We were so close. It would have made a difference. I know it would have. I wanted you so badly and you—” Another shake, harder, then a roll of his shoulders. “Okay, okay. Not the time, I know.

Right now, we need to…”

His lips pursed as if he’d lost his train of thought.

“I need to meet Paige in five minutes,” I said.

“Duh, yes. Sorry. Let’s get moving.”

I WAS SUPPOSED
to meet her at a parking lot. From there, we’d walk to a newly opened club a block away. This area of downtown Miami was peppered with office towers and didn’t see much of a nightlife. Scores of lights illuminated every building, but the sidewalks and roads were nearly empty, giving the street an eerie, deserted look. I shivered and blamed the cooler night air. The Metromover whirred past, making me jump.

As we approached the parking lot, Jaz spoke. “So you’re okay with the plan, right?”

“Meet her out front and cut down the laneway to the east. If she balks at taking the service road, circle the block and you’ll grab her from the other end of the lane.”

“Good, good.”

Another half-block, then he laid his hand on my arm. “Don’t do anything stupid, okay, Hope?”

“I’m not—”

He stepped in front and lowered his face closer to mine. Worry creased a line between his eyes. “I mean it.

Please, please, please, don’t screw this up. I made a deal with Sonny. He’s not happy about bringing you in, but I swore you’d be smart, and if you aren’t…” He rubbed his throat and cleared it. “Just don’t. Please, Hope. Sonny will have you guys covered the whole time. If he sees anything go wrong—you deviate from the plan, Paige takes out her cell phone…He’s a crack shot.”

“I know.”

He nodded, squeezed my arm, then sent me on my way.

RIGHT ON SCHEDULE,
Paige emerged from the dark depths of the lot. As she approached, her gaze tripped along the street. Every few seconds, a car passed, more when the lights two blocks down changed. Across the road, a couple walked, presumably heading to the club. Jaz had been meticulous choosing this location. Empty enough to avoid witnesses. Busy enough that it wouldn’t spook her.

I’d worried whether the parking lot itself would be a problem. It was almost empty, and only sprinkled with lights, as if they didn’t do enough business after dark to warrant more. For a guy, not a problem. A woman might think differently.

Paige blinked as she stepped from the shadows and the streetlights hit her.

“I hope you locked your car,” I called as she approached.

She started and pulled up short. Lost in her thoughts?

“Your car,” I said. “Did you lock it?”

“Um, right. Yes.”

Her voice was pitched higher than her usual contralto and her gaze kept darting along the road. Nervous, and not doing a very good job of hiding it. I told myself I was projecting my own tension on her. But as she drew closer, I could feel her anxiety, the chaos tickling along my nerves. I caught snippets of her thoughts. Random worries that she was making a mistake, that she never should have agreed.

I longed to lean closer and whisper reassurances, but Sonny was out there, watching. I had to play this cool.

Especially if she wasn’t.

“The club’s this way,” I said.

She fell into step beside me. I pointed out the couple across the road, commenting on their clothes. She said little. I yammered on, filling the dead air, hoping to calm her. Ahead, the couple crossed the road and went down the side street. We were approaching the service road.

“Bet that’s a shortcut,” I said. “Let’s take it.”

She didn’t resist and I didn’t expect her to. Getting off the street would give the Cabal team a chance to swoop in.

We started down the narrow road. It was dimly lit, but not dark. Paige walked briskly, with renewed confidence. The end was in sight, her nervousness fading. It seemed, though, as if I’d caught it. Sweat beaded along my lip.

I focused on the door ahead.

It was about eighty feet away now. I knew it should be cracked open, but from here it was impossible to see.

When I got closer, I was supposed to steer her that way, then as we passed, Jaz would throw open the door, grab Paige, then grab me. He’d pull us both inside and throw me aside. I’d pretend to hit my head and pass out. That was critical to his plan—that Paige have no idea I was involved, so she couldn’t finger me later. I had to be a co-victim until Lucas was dead and I could be “freed” while Paige remained a captive.

None of that, though, would ever come to pass, because between here and there, I had every expectation of rescue. Would they come while we were still in the lane? Or wait until Jaz pulled us inside? Either way—

Something moved to my right, the blur of a figure seeming to leap from the wall itself. I swallowed a yelp and wheeled, expecting to see a tactical team member rappelling down from the roof.

Instead, I saw an open door and a dark figure within it. Paige shrieked. Fingers clamped down on my arm. I opened my mouth to tell my rescuer that Jaz was farther down, waiting. But it was Jaz standing there. Holding me.

Paige gibbered in fear, and I had an insane urge to shout at her to stop because I couldn’t think with her chaos waves so strong, and I needed to think, but the moment I
could
think, I realized that help wasn’t coming, that she wouldn’t be screeching and clawing at Jaz if it was.

He flung me into a tiny room, his arm flying up as if with the momentum of the throw, but it was little more than a shove. As I stumbled, I remembered the plan. My first thought was “to hell with the plan.” But before I could catch my balance, I realized I’d be a fool not to play along.

So I let myself fall, my head hitting the concrete floor hard enough to knock Paige’s chaos waves from my head. When I closed my eyes, though, they returned, washing over me, and I let them dull the fear, whet my senses.

Across the room, Paige’s cries had fallen to stifled whimpers. Jaz was talking to her, his voice low and soothing.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “I need you, Paige. Think about it. You’re no good to me as a hostage if you aren’t healthy.”

I cracked open my eyes. Paige had her back to the far wall, pressed against it, Jaz holding her forearms, but standing far enough away not to spook her.

She’d gone still. Lulling him before she cast a spell? I thought about getting her attention, but if she looked my way, so would Jaz. Better for him to forget I was here…

I measured the distance to him. Could he see me from this angle? I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t risk it.

I needed to move fast and bring him down so Paige could cast her binding spell. As I drew my legs in, preparing to spring, Jaz crouched, pulling Paige lower until she was sitting on the floor.

“Okay, now you wait here. I’m going to check on Hope.”

I half closed my eyes. He started to turn. I quickly caught Paige’s attention and mouthed “cast!” Her brow furrowed.

Cast. Cast, damn you! Why aren’t you—?

He moved again and I shut my eyes, then cracked them open. He had his back to me. His hand was under his jacket. I saw that, and I knew.

I flew to my feet and ran at him. I saw the gun. An explosion of terror, almost knocking me off my feet.

Beautiful terror. Sweet and pure chaos. So perfect…

He raised the gun.

No!

I clamped down on my lip and the burst of pain wrenched my thoughts free. I threw myself at Jaz. I hit him.

The gun fired. And then, as we hit the floor, I felt it. A second chaos blast, this one so strong I blacked out.

The waves rocked me and that was all I could think about, all I could feel. And that was okay, because as long as I felt them everything was fine. Everything was—

The waves began to ebb. No! I clung to them, holding tight, but they were slipping away now, gentler, rolling over me, the edge of terror and pain gone, only the blissful aftermath remaining.

I lifted my head. Struggled to focus. Everything in me pleaded with me to relax, just lie back and enjoy it.

Don’t spoil—

I saw Paige. Crumpled against the wall. Her pretty face twisted with horror. A bullet hole through her forehead.

I screamed. As the sound ripped from my throat, it changed into a roar, the chaos bliss hardening into something that filled me, burned me, seared my eyes, my brain, my gut. Through the blaze, I saw Jaz. Only Jaz. On his feet. Coming toward me.

I lunged at him, kicking, clawing, screaming in a voice I didn’t recognize as human. I smelled blood. I felt its heat. I tasted its sweetness.

Something jabbed my arm. The prick of pain only spurred me on, but Jaz had wrenched from my grasp. I wheeled. Through the blood haze, I spotted his dark form, and I tried to launch myself at him, but I just kept turning.

Turning. Turning. My knees gave way and I spiraled to the ground.

The last thing I saw was Paige’s dead eyes, staring at me.

HOPE: CRASH AND BURN

T
wice before, I’d watched my life crash and burn.

The first time had been my last year of high school. In the midst of SATs, training for a regatta and struggling through the first serious fight with my high school sweetheart, I’d started seeing visions. Convinced it was stress, I’d been furious with myself for showing such weakness and determined to “fix” myself before anyone found out and shipped me off to therapy. I’d fought it so hard that I had a breakdown, I lost it all—the SATs, the regatta, my boyfriend—and spent my prom night in a private mental hospital.

It took years to recover from that, but I did. I learned what I was. I established contacts in the supernatural world. I graduated from college. I found the “council” and got my job with
True News
. From debutante to tabloid-reporting, gun-toting, chaos demon spy girl. Not exactly what my mother had in mind, but I’d been pleased with myself. It was like going to bed an ordinary girl and waking up a superhero.

More like super-chump. I’d discovered that my new life was built on a lie. I wasn’t protecting the innocent; I was delivering them to the Cortez Cabal. My self-confidence took a beating that it still hadn’t recovered from. But with Karl’s help I’d bounced back and became exactly what I thought I’d been before—a council operative.

Now, with a single bullet, my world had shattered again. This time it wouldn’t heal.

Paige had believed me. I said I’d needed her help and she’d taken me at my word. How many times had I heard the council tease Paige about her impetuousness? They told stories of her running headlong into danger, mind fixed on a soul that needed saving. But such tales were rooted in the past, and even Paige laughed at them. She was older now. More experienced. More cautious.

Yet hadn’t I seen the worry in Lucas’s eyes when she set out on a dangerous assignment? I’d always told myself he was just concerned for his wife. Now I realized that Paige was, at heart, the same person she’d always been, one who’d throw herself into a bullet’s path to save a friend.

I’d called for help. She’d listened.

I’d begged her to tell no one. She’d listened.

After arriving, she’d had misgivings, but I’d played it so cool she’d told herself she was wrong. And followed me to her death.

She’d trusted me. She was dead. It was my fault.

Benicio Cortez would chase me to the ends of the earth, now, convinced I’d been part of the conspiracy against his family. Who would I turn to? For justice? For mercy? Lucas? The council? I’d killed Paige. No one would help me now.

I would not recover from this. Could not.

And yet, even as I thought the words, they were only words. I didn’t care what happened to me. All I could see was Paige’s face. Her dead eyes staring at me.

My greatest fear had been that, faced with the death of a friend, I’d be so overcome by the chaos that I’d stand by and watch. Now I knew I’d been wrong. I’d faced the chaos and overcome it. I’d tried to stop Jaz. Tried to save Paige. Did it matter? No. Because I’d still been responsible for her death…and I didn’t even have the demon to blame.

I LAY IN
the back of a car. I had no idea how long I’d been there, trapped in my thoughts, smelling vinyl and vomit, feeling the rumble of the tires, hearing the sharp words of an argument. It all washed over me, muddled by whatever drug sloshed through my veins.

Even when the voices became coherent, I listened, aware that what I was hearing was important, connected to me, but unable to
make
that connection. Just disembodied voices floating through the ether.

“You have to do something about her.”

“Everything’s fine.”

“Fine? Look in the mirror and tell me everything’s fine, Jaz. She attacked you—”

“I shot someone she liked. What’s she supposed to do? Run over and kiss me?”

“Kill you more like.”

“She wouldn’t do that.”

“No? Well, judging by those scratches, she sure as hell tried. I hate to see what you’d look like if you hadn’t shot her with the sedative.”

“You don’t understand.”

“No, Jaz, I don’t.”

Silence.

“I need her, Sonny.”