whiskey witches 01 - whisky witches (44 page)

The whole point of going to the junk yard had been to get Mike Jones and that damned key. Mike Jones. The angel. And the broken key that didn’t seem to work anyway. How did she even know the gate had been opened with the key? What if it had something to do with what Sven had done instead?

“What did that man say to you, Detective?”

Paige met Brian’s gaze. “What man?”

“The blonde.”

“Oh.” How had it completely slipped her mind that Brian hadn’t actually seen Sven yet. “That’s Sven, the demon.”

“The mastermind.”

“I had thought so.” But maybe he still was. Maybe she wasn’t seeing everything clearly.

The evidence had led her there.

To a junk yard filled with demon possessed humans protecting an angel with a broken key to the Gate of Hell.

No. That really didn’t make sense. Did it?

She’d discovered a lot in the past couple of days.

What and how did it change the evidence?

Sven. He was . . . courting her. Courting her through her field—as a homicide detective and as a Whiskey witch. Had he been sending her secret messages all along?

Like the ones on the bodies?

Or perhaps, he’d only had to resort to that because she’d missed the other messages he’d left her.

Brian’s face entered her field of vision as he knelt beside her. “What did he say, Paige?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“Peanut.” Balnore appeared at her elbow, but didn’t touch.

She jerked in surprise. “Hey, Bal.”

“What do you need me to do?” All business then.

She had no clue. They were drowning and she had no idea how to fight this. How to get the key. How to get out of town. How to keep the gate closed. How to end Sven. How to contain Mike Jones. “Go to Dexx. I need to know how bad the damage is.”

Balnore nodded and dispersed.

“Paige.” Brian captured her attention.

She waved him off. “Protect your parish, Brian. I’m trying to piece things together, but I don’t have any answers right now. As soon as I do, I’ll come find you.”

He narrowed his eyes, but then nodded and rose.

What was the next move? The real game?

Where was Lucius? Lucius. How the hell did he play into all this? Why weren’t the pieces coming together?

She was asking the wrong questions.

Goddamnit. What had Sven said?

Xael cleared his throat.

He was still there? “What do you want?”

“Why did you not ask for my help?” Xael leaned his elbow on his knee. “Why do you insist on making things harder for yourself?”

Did he seriously just ask that? With everything going on, that’s the question he asked? “All I want to do right now is punch you in the face.”

“I can see that.” His expression showed no emotion.

The son of a bitch was a fucking angel. Maybe he was so disconnected from the real world to comprehend what the fuck he’d done. “Do you realize what it’s like when you use my gift for me? You reached inside. You took over. You fucking possessed me after I’ve already been possessed by a demon.”

“While I’m in control, you’re safe.”

Safe? He had a loose definition of the word. “I’m safe with me in control. All I need is a shield. I nearly had him. Without you.”

He took in a slow, deep breath, his eyebrow raised. “You did surprise me today.”

“Surprised you. Oh my god. Surprised you?” That egotistical son of a bitch. “Do you know where Sven is?”

The angel shook his head. “How do you plan on dealing with this half demon?”

“Not with your help.”

The angel flattened his lips and sighed.

She needed him out of there so she could think. “What can you tell me about Mike Jones?”

He thought for a silent moment. “Nothing.”

“Is it possible he’s an angel?”

“He is, though what his mission is and who he’s working for, I don’t know.”

“And that doesn’t strike you as odd.”

“Do you know everyone on your police force? Do you know all the officers? All the sergeants?”

The Denver police force was a large operation. Not quite as large as the angel population, she was sure, but she understood his point. “No. I don’t.”

He raised his eyebrows and nodded once.

“Is Roxxie okay?” Her head lay on Paige’s arm in such a way it cut off the blood circulation to her hand.

“I must take her to be healed.”

“Where will you take her?”

“Some things are best kept secret.” He gripped Paige’s shoulders.

Tepid warmth enveloped her. A chill seeped from her bones, getting worse.

The angel bent his head, his neck muscles straining.

Paige took in one breath, then two and slowly began to feel minutely better.

Xael fell back, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he stared at her. “That is the best I can do.”

She shrugged, feeling better. Not one hundred percent, but better. That had to count for something.

Xael gathered Roxxie in his arms and disappeared in a blinding flash of angel light and a storm of flying dirt.

Paige let herself sit there a moment longer. What had Sven said? She didn’t know him. Chaos for the sake of chaos or something. So he had something planned, something specific.

Her phone chirped.

She pulled it off her belt and put it to her ear. “Whiskey.”

“Detective.” Mike Jones’ tone rose with joy. “I have Fanny.”

Paige straightened, her heart racing. “Why? Leave her out of this.”

“You leave me no choice.”

“What do you want?”

“I want the demon, Lucius. Bring him and I’ll give you Fanny back.”

Why did everyone want Lucius? “What assurances do I have that you won’t kill her anyway? You’re a serial killer, Jones. Your word doesn’t mean a whole lot anymore.”

“Are you trying to anger me?” he mocked. “Where’s your negotiating skills?”

“They’re kind of spent.”

Mike chuckled.

Paige needed to buy herself some time. She’d just charged head long into two situations without enough protections or thought or planning. Twice was enough. “I need proof she’s alive.”

He clucked his tongue.

Fanny’s voice came blaring through the phone. “Paige, honey, is that you?”

“Yes,” Paige shouted. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice tinged with fear. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Where are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’ve never been there before?”

“No. Ain’t no place I know of—wait. No. Please—”

Fanny’s voice trailed off.

“You have your proof,” Mike said into the phone, his voice crisp. “Now bring me the demon.”

“Where are you?”

“I’ll give you a location when I know you have the demon. Come alone. You don’t want me to bring Sven into it.”

“He’s not with you.” Her mind scrambled as her mouth moved almost on its own. “As a matter of fact, he and I had a lovely conversation. Also, Xael’s here and wanted to say hello.”

Pause. “Well,” he said, his tone tight, “haven’t you been busy?”

Finally. She had something right, but what? “Do you have the key?”

“Of course. How else am I going to open the gate and bring Heaven’s army down on the heads of Man? Get the demon.”

She needed time. “Where are you?”

Silence.

“Mike?”

Silence.

“Damn it.” Paige checked her phone. It flashed and showed two big buttons, one red, one green. He’d hung up on her. She pulled herself to her feet, using the car behind her as a prop. Xael had helped a little. She was getting old—and she was out of shape, magickal shape.

She needed a damned plan. Quick.

Time to talk to Malika.

P
AIGE SQUARED HER
shoulders and stormed through the police station. Her booted footsteps echoed in the nearly deserted rooms. “Malika.”

The woman leapt to her feet. “Paige, what’s going on? Where is everyone?”

Paige stopped within arms’ reach of the bars and looped her thumbs in her belt loops. “You don’t know?”

“How would I? I’ve been in here. Where’s Mike?”

“He left you.” Paige rubbed her chin where a zit was claiming territory. When was the last time she’d washed her face? With soap? And water? “He ran, leaving you in here. By yourself. He’s trying to open the gate right now.”

A startled chuckle escaped Malika’s lips, a frown flittering across her brow. “Not without me.”

Paige snorted, scanning the front area through the door. She had no idea what Mike would do next. Call? She hoped, but she’d been thrown ten too many surprises for one day. And she still had Sven to deal with. What was he planning? “I’m here for one very pointed reason. Mike has Fanny.”

“He wouldn’t leave me.”

Paige turned her head to look at Malika. “He abandoned you, Malika. I need to know where he is.”

“I won’t tell you.” Malika’s brown eyes rounded with betrayal, her lips pursed in a wavering conviction.

Trust and loyalty scorned. Paige could empathize with that. “You have no reason to protect him.”

“You don’t know anything. We love each other.”

“He left you here.” Paige pointed to the ground with her finger to emphasize her points. “To take the blame? To take the fall? To get you out of his way?”

Malika’s breath shook. “He’s protecting me.”

“In jail.” Paige released a breath of derision. “Right.”

Malika blinked, her shoulder sagging.

“All the evidence points to you. You’re going to get the death penalty because right now, all the evidence points to you. Mike set you up.”

Malika’s gaze unfocused, her lips rounding as the full brunt of her situation came to light.

“Malika.” Paige scanned the area. Quiet. Still. Empty. Her spidy senses said nothing. Safe. For now. “You had the key passed down to you through the generations. Mike came to you because of that. Not for love.”

“Mike was always there.”

“Because of the key.” Paige kept her attention glued to the doorway, not sure why or what was setting off her survival instincts. Her hand went to her gun. “He used you. Sven used you. Your use is gone. They don’t need you anymore. They have what they want. They have your key. They can open the Gate.”

“They need the demon. Lucius.”

“I know.”

Malika stepped into Paige’s peripheral. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. We were supposed to come here, reclaim Lucius’ soul, have a little fun, and then open the gate. Bring Heaven to Earth.”

Paige’s eyebrows shot up. “And you thought it would be fun to prepare this town by spilling blood?”

“I’ve read the Bible, Paige. Angels are nothing if not blood thirsty.”

Paige could disagree.

Malika took in a steadying breath. “He’s at Stanley’s barn.”

Paige narrowed her eyes. That seemed a bit sudden. “Is it a trap?”

“If he’s taken a friend of yours—”

“I barely know the woman.”

“—or anyone he thinks you’ll come after, it’s a trap.”

Paige couldn’t say the idea surprised her. It didn’t. “What can I expect?”

Malika shook her head, her gaze glazed, and shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s an angel.”

“But you thought he’d loved you. Surely that means you meant enough for him to show you things; his abilities, his magicks.”

“No. He—” She rested her forehead against the bars. “He said he was protecting me by not showing me what he could do.”

“Awesome. Well, I don’t know where this barn is.”

“Few people do.” Malika gave her directions. Finished, she sat on the lone cot, her posture slumped.

Paige paused, looking at the woman, but turned to leave. Whatever happened to her happened. No matter how she’d been manipulated, the woman was still a murderer.

“Paige,” a male voice said with a lilt.

She paused at the front door and frowned at the demon standing directly behind her. “Lucius. Where have you been?”

He raised a dark eyebrow. “I heard Sven has the woman at the inn.”

“That doesn’t answer where you’ve been.”

He quirked his lips. “I’m guessing the angel wishes to bargain? Yeah? My life for hers?”

Paige opened the door, the bright sunlight stabbing her in the eye. “Yeah. He wants you. Do you have a plan because I don’t. He has the key. I have nothing. No way to kill him. No way to fight him and walk away. I’ve got nothing.”

“Take me to him. I’m assuming you know where he is.”

“I do and the answer is no. Both Mike Jones and Sven want you. I don’t know why, but they do.”

“I’m a very powerful demon myself, love. Trust me. I can hold my own.”

“Ri-ight. Right. Right. Because you did so well at the paper mill. Ran away from that one. Yeah. Yup. Yup.” She stopped at Jackie’s driver’s side door. “You were a freakin’ hero.”

“You appear upset.”

“Wow.” She glared at him over Jackie’s roof. “You could be a frelling detective.”

“You mock me.”

“You’re damn straight.” She jingled the keys in her hand. “What are you going to do? Because I really need a good plan. I know where Mike is, but I have no way of getting that key back. I need that key, Lucius. I need to get out of here. I don’t know how to win this one.”

When Lucius didn’t respond, she slid into the driver’s seat. The keys remained in her hand as she watched the police station. She knew where she had to go. She just didn’t know what to do. She had no weapons. She was going to end up dead.