City of Demons

  “Yes,” he replied.

  “Hmm. Coincidental timing.”

  He snorted. “Hardly. Why would I destroy him now? You think I’d want to risk getting in trouble when my review comes along?”

  “Or,” said Noelle, suddenly speaking up, “maybe you wanted to make sure he wouldn’t be able to influence the review committee.”

  Kurtis gave her a tight, mirthless smile. “That’s your own wishful thinking, Noelle. You have no fucking clue who did this, and you’ll take anyone you can find.”

  “I’ll take whoever’s guilty,” she replied. She’d matched the steel in his voice but still wore her usual composure. “And I’ll make sure they pay.”

  * * *

  I left the proceedings that day with mixed feelings about Kurtis. With his history of violence and casual attitude about said violence, he did make a suspicious figure. On the other hand, I had to agree with him about the danger of taking out Anthony with the transfer hearing so close at hand.

  Just like the day before, I was the only one to ask any real questions. I wanted to know when Kurtis and Anthony had last seen each other and if Kurtis had an alibi. He did, but again, I didn’t doubt a demon could come up with any number of people to lie for him.

  Post-trial parties held little appeal for me today, so instead, I decided to go straight to Seth’s diner. The notion of just hanging out and doing something mundane like watching a movie had astonishing appeal. Besides, I was feeling guilty about my neglect.

  When I stepped inside the elevator, I was surprised to see Noelle riding down as well. We stood there in that awkward silence elevator passengers often have, our eyes trained on the numbers as we descended. Daring a sidelong glance, I again admired her pretty features and remembered what Luis had said about her loving Anthony.

  The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. “I’m sorry about Anthony.”

  Her sea-colored eyes flicked from the numbers to me. Bitter amusement glinted in them. “You’re the only one, I think.”

  I thought so too. “I . . . I know it’s hard to lose someone you’re close to.”

  “Close, huh? You’ve been talking to Luis. He might be the only other person who cares about this too.” A small frown wrinkled her brow. “But I believe you. You do know what it’s like. That’s the thing with you lesser immortals . . . you’re always around humans, getting caught up in their muddled emotions. Loving them. Losing them. Getting betrayed by them. You’d be better off staying detached from all that. Save yourselves a lot of pain.”

  I wanted to tell her that if she’d loved Anthony, then she wasn’t a very good role model as far as emotional detachment went. Instead, I said something completely asinine.

  “Well. I don’t think you can really have happiness if you don’t have pain too.”

  Something like a snort caught in her throat. Noelle’s eyes swept me, and I felt as though she suddenly could see my life story without the benefit of a reading.

  After several moments, she replied, “You must have a lot of happiness then.”

  I held back a glare and left the elevator when it opened, murmuring a polite good-bye as I stepped out.

  I walked down to the diner and caught sight of Seth through the window. He sat at the same table, and so help me, that fucking waitress was there again. The door was propped open to let in the nice weather. I started to step through, hesitated, and then retreated. There was a small overhang around the side of the building, obscured from the rest of the street. I sidled over to it and shape-shifted into invisibility. Returning to the front door, I crossed the threshold, hidden from mortal eyes.

  Beth was laughing when I approached. “Really?” she asked. “You get love letters?”

  “Sure,” he said. The abandoned laptop sat before him. Didn’t he have deadlines or something? “Not sure I really deserve it . . . but they show up more than you’d think. I’ve actually gotten poetry too.”

  “Like dirty limericks?”

  “No, thankfully. Got some haikus once, though.”

  She laughed again. “The more you tell me, the more I really want to read your books. I’ve got to go pick up one.”

  Seth shrugged. “No need. Give me your address, and I’ll send you a couple.”

  “Oh, no. You don’t have to . . .”

  He waved her off. “They send me boxes of them. It’s not a problem.”

  “Wow, thanks.” She grinned. She had a cute smile for a shameless tramp. “That’d be great. Maybe . . . maybe I could get you coffee as a thank you. I mean, coffee not from here.”

  Seth didn’t quite catch it at first, then I saw the surprise register on his face. “Ah,” he said. The social ease and banter he’d just had abruptly shut down. “Well. I . . .” He hesitated, and suddenly, suddenly, I wondered if he was hesitating over whether to accept rather than choosing words to refuse her. After what seemed like an eternity, he shook his head. “No. I can’t. Not . . . no. Not really. I’m, um, probably busy.”

  Her face fell a little. “I understand.” A moment later, she mustered a smile. “Well . . . let me check on some tables, and then I’ll be back.”

  She sauntered off across the restaurant, and I wished that dress wasn’t quite so snug on her ass. Seth’s eyes followed her, a bit regretful.

  Suddenly, I didn’t want to talk to him quite so much after all.

  I left the diner, my emotions in a tangle. I discretely shifted back to a visible form and headed down the street, moving toward the hotel but not really sure I wanted to go back there either.

  “He likes her,” a voice suddenly said beside me.

  Startled, I turned to find Kurtis walking along with me. He’d appeared out of nowhere. I didn’t bother asking what he’d just seen. Demons could move around with their signatures masked, and I supposed it was time for his bribe.

  “No, he doesn’t,” I said immediately.

  Kurtis laughed, the same unconcerned laugh I’d heard in the courtroom. “Of course he does. She’s hot.”

  “He loves me,” I said.

  “Love doesn’t stop people from betraying each other.”

  It reminded me a bit of my conversation with Noelle. We passed near a bakery, and he beckoned me toward it.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s talk. This place makes great éclairs.”

  Which is how, five minutes later, I found myself sitting at a table and eating a cinnamon roll the size of a car tire with another potential killer.

  Kurtis didn’t speak until he was halfway through his second éclair. “So. Where were we? Ah, yes. Your naive belief that love can keep a man from cheating on the one he loves.” He fixed me with a knowing look. “Honestly, I never thought I’d hear that from a succubus. You of all people should know better.”

  He was right. I did know better. I couldn’t even keep track of how many men I’d lured away from the women they loved. Affection and reason tended to get a little murky when the body and its hormones took over.

  “Seth’s different,” I responded.

  “Of course he isn’t. He’s a man. He likes women, and that woman wants him so bad, her panties get wet each time she refills his coffee.”

  “Doesn’t matter. She’s not his type.”

  “She’s the female type. And she’s pretty.”

  “She’s a waitress. Seth wouldn’t go for that.”

  “She’s a waitress using her shitty job to put herself through college. You saying a geeky guy like him wouldn’t respect that?”

  Yes, Seth would indeed respect something like that. But I still didn’t want to go along with any of this.

  “He still wouldn’t do it.”

  “Why? Because he’s getting it somewhere else?” He gave me a pointed look.

  I honestly shouldn’t have been surprised if he knew everything about me. Still, I had to ask. “How do you know that?”

  Kurtis licked chocolate icing off his fingers. “How do you think, little one? That guy’s got a soul brighter than a
five-hundred-watt bulb. If he was sleeping with you, it’d show. And if you were going to do it, you’d have already done it.”

  “He’s above physical needs.” It was quite possibly the stupidest thing I’d ever said, more so than the happiness and pain comment in the elevator.

  “No one’s above physical needs. Not even demons. Look at Noelle and her insane obsession with all this.”

  I tossed my hair back, putting on my best bland look. “Well, I don’t care if Seth wants to sleep with that girl. Not like he’d leave me for her. Besides, we have an arrangement. He knows he can get sex on the side if he wants. I don’t care.”

  Kurtis threw back his head and laughed. “The fuck you don’t. I don’t have to be an angel to know you’re lying. It would kill you if he slept with someone.”

  “It wouldn’t,” I said, even though he was right.

  “Have you noticed that their names rhyme? It’s pretty cute.”

  “Look,” I said angrily, “will you just leave my personal life alone and get on with whatever bribe you’re here to offer me?”

  “Actually, your personal life is why I’m here. And I’m here to bribe you too.”

  “Yeah? With what? Your compelling relationship advice?”

  “Nah. You wouldn’t listen to it. I’m here to give you what you really want.”

  “Yeah. Clyde said the same thing.”

  “Clyde’s full of shit,” he scoffed. “I can give you the real deal. You don’t want to hurt your guy? I’ll give you a night with him, consequence free.”

  I stared. The room seemed to stop moving.

  “You can’t do that.”

  “Of course I can.”

  “How?”

  “You belong to Jerome, right? I’ll get him to block you off from your power for a day.”

  I blinked. I’d never thought of that. Hell, in its complicated love for hierarchies and chains of command, had a weird organizational system. An archdemon’s underlings were connected to him in such a way that their divine powers were “filtered” through him. It kept him in control of his subordinates and also gave him a sense of their whereabouts and well-being. It was also sort of like a string of Christmas lights. Take out an archdemon, and it’d cut off his lesser immortals from their powers until a new system was established. I’d never considered the notion of an archdemon willingly blocking someone out of the immortal chain.

  The appealing fantasy quickly shattered for me. “Jerome would never do that. He doesn’t approve of my relationship with Seth.”

  “Jerome owes me a favor.”

  “He does not.” I had a hard time picturing my boss being indebted to anyone.

  “He does.” Kurtis held his hand out to me. “I swear, if you vote for one of the other suspects, I’ll make sure you have a night with your guy during which he’ll suffer no damage to his soul.”

  I felt the slight crackle of a demon offering a bargain. They could lie and swear about the most extraordinary things . . . but they were bound to their deals.

  I swallowed, a brief image of being naked with Seth flashing in my mind’s eye.

  “I can’t,” I said slowly. “I won’t vote because of a bribe. How do I know you didn’t do it?”

  “Please. The evidence against me is ridiculous, and you know it. I could see it on your face at the trial.”

  “Then why are you worried? Why do you need to bribe me?”

  “Because there are plenty of jurors who’d enjoy convicting me just for the fun of it. I need to make sure that won’t happen.”

  Temptation, temptation. The story of my life.

  “I . . . can’t.”

  He shrugged. “If you say so. Keep an eye on your boyfriend and that waitress, and you’ll see that I’m right about that. I bet he’s a great tipper, and I bet if he starts getting it somewhere else regularly, he might find it isn’t worth sticking around you. But, if you sleep with him sooner rather than later, you’ll keep him from straying.” He pushed his chair back and stood up. “Think on it. You vote for one of the others, and I’ll make good on my promise.”

  His hand caught mine as he spoke, and a jolt shot through me. He’d sealed his vow.

  I didn’t know what to say; my mind was a blur. Kurtis recognized that and grinned. “See you around.”

  He walked out of the bakery, but I just sat there picking at my cinnamon roll, suddenly no longer hungry.

  Chapter Seven

  The third day of the trial brought out the last suspect, a demoness named Starla. She was a tiny little thing, all doe eyes and long golden hair. She was also a new demon, one who must have recently fallen. She had apparently been a lesser-ranking angel in her pre-Hell days because she was relatively weak now as far as power went. So weak, in fact, that there was absolutely no way she could have blown Anthony away.

  However, as the questioning went on, it became clear she might have blown him in another way.

  “You had a romantic relationship with Anthony?” Margo asked. She said “relationship” like it was dirty word. She probably hadn’t had sex in centuries, and honestly, if there was anyone I’d ever met who needed to get laid, it was her.

  Starla was fragile looking, but she was a demon, weak or no. And even a weak demon was still a force to be reckoned with, particularly for an annoying lesser immortal like Margo.

  “Yes,” said Starla, her voice calm.

  “So why’d you do it then? Jealousy? Lovers’ quarrel?”

  “I didn’t do it.”

  “It’s always the ones who are closest to the victim,” continued Margo, glancing at us jurors. “This shouldn’t be a surprise.”

  “I didn’t do it,” growled Starla.

  “Were you afraid of losing him maybe? Sort of a ‘If I can’t have him, no one can’ thing?”

  “I didn’t do it,” the demoness repeated. “I couldn’t have done it. You know that.”

  “You could have easily gotten someone else to,” retorted Margo. “And while we’d like to find and chastise that person too, there’s no doubt that you’re the mastermind.”

  “Except that I’m not.”

  Margo brought out her idiotic clipboard again. “I understand that Noelle told you two to end your . . . relationship. She thought it was interfering with your work.”

  A flash of anger gleamed in Starla’s eyes as she glanced briefly at her archdemoness. “It wasn’t.”

  The imp shrugged. “So you say. But again, that would certainly lend credence to the ‘If I can’t have him . . .’ theory, hmm? Someone like Anthony wouldn’t have stayed lonely for long . . . there were certainly other ports he could have docked his ship in. But you? Who are you? Some minor, struggling little antisocial demon . . . so fresh from angelhood that you might as well still be wearing a halo. Not really worth anyone’s attention unless it was someone who wanted to break you in. Anthony was your first, wasn’t he?”

  “That doesn’t matter,” said Starla tightly.

  But apparently it did because it brought my fellow jurors to life. They showered her with questions, digging out as many personal details as they could. I could see Luis’s ire growing, but it was Noelle who cut things off.

  “We don’t need to hear any more personal details,” she snapped, sweeping the jury with those turquoise eyes. They radiated fury.

  “I agree,” said Luis. “If you guys can’t ask anything useful, then don’t say anything.”

  Unsurprisingly, the other jurors fell silent. I raised my hand. Starla regarded me warily.

  “Did . . . do you have other friends? Aside from Anthony?”

  She looked surprised by the question. “I have colleagues.”

  “Any that you’re close to?”

  “No.”

  Margo grinned broadly. “More proof as to why you’d have such a psychotic reaction to being separated from Anthony.”

  Starla glared at me as though I’d purposely just set her up. But I hadn’t. Margo had called Starla antisocial earlier, and Starla herself
admitted to having no close friends or colleagues. She could be lying, I supposed, but I didn’t think so. The friendless thing only made her look more desperate; she wouldn’t have purposely furthered that image by admitting to it. And if she was friendless, then I wondered who she could have gotten to kill Anthony. It was possible she could have made a business arrangement with someone. Maybe she had something to offer, but I doubted it.

  Nonetheless, she found me afterward, just like Clyde and Anthony had.

  “Wealth,” she told me, standing with me in the hall by my room. “Money.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “That’s generally the definition of wealth.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m offering you a great thing here. I mean, not like piles of gold or anything, but we’re talking serious cash. Investments. Accounts in the Caymans. Stuff like that.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t believe in bribes. And even if I did, I don’t need the money. I’ve got my own stockpile. Besides, not like I couldn’t find someone to give it to me if I wanted.” It was exactly what Clyde had said.

  I waited then for anger, for snippiness. What I didn’t expect, however, was for her to suddenly start crying. I’d seen demons do a lot of things over the centuries. Torture. Destruction. Betrayal. Never, ever had I seen a demon cry. I didn’t even know they could do it.

  I started to reach for her in some sort of awkward attempt at comfort but thought better of it.

  “Look,” I said uneasily. “I’m sure there are other jurors who’ll take the bribe.”

  She sniffed and shook her head, running a hand over her wet eyes. “No. Not from me. I don’t have anything to give—not like Clyde and Kurtis. Everyone on the jury’s stronger than me. There’s nothing I can offer that they can’t already get themselves.”

  “Well . . . I mean, I don’t know. I guess you just have to wait for justice to run its course.”

  A harsh laugh cut off one of her sobs. “Justice? Here? There’s no justice with this group. Even you can’t be that naive.”

  I didn’t answer. I knew she was right.

  Starla exhaled heavily and leaned against the wall, tipping her head back. “For all I know, Noelle’s giving bribes out for them to vote for me.”