Nothing seemed surprising anymore.
“Why?” I barely had the breath for the word. “Why lie to me?”
One corner of her perfect lips tilted up. She acknowledged the question with a slight, wry smile. “Would you have believed me, if I looked like this?”
“But when you were small—”
“That was humanity. It burned away from me. In Hell.” One shoulder lifted a little, dropped. The silver circle responded with a change in pitch, its low evil hum stepping up a half-note and dropping back down.
Damn demons, always shrugging at me. But something else crossed her face—a swift flash of vulnerability, gone in less than a moment. The look of a child caught with her hand in a jar full of candy, incongruous on a demon’s face.
I kept forgetting how young she had to be, even if time moved differently in Hell than it did here.
I felt Japhrimel arrive, though he was soundless as Death Himself. His hand closed gently over my shoulder, and I didn’t know whether it was to offer support or because he wasn’t sure if I’d pitch myself at the circle to free her.
Eve’s gaze flickered up past me. She studied Japhrimel intently for fifteen long seconds, the color draining under her golden skin, and dropped her face back into her knees. The air subtly changed, and I got the idea she was ignoring us, very loudly and pointedly.
And very desperately.
Good for you, kid. I couldn’t find it in me to blame her. I turned and headed for the end of the cargo bay, brushing past Japh. His hand fell away from my shoulder.
The ladder leading up to the main deck was solid cold plasteel. I rested my hands on a crossbar, staring at my wrists. It occurred to me that they were like Eve’s, seemingly frail and made of demon bone. We’d both started out human, hadn’t we? Partly human?
Was I still? I felt human where it counted, inside the aching ruin of my heart. “Japh?”
He made no sound, but I felt his attention. He was listening.
“Is that… what she really looks like?”
Why was I even asking? I had seen the glamour shred away from her with my own eyes, I saw her now. I knew. But I still wanted to hear it. I needed to hear someone say it.
“We are shapeshifters, my curious.” His breath touched my ear; he was leaning in close, the heat of him comforting against my back. I hadn’t been this aware of his closeness in a while.
My breath caught in my throat. I leaned forward, rested my forehead on the plasteel. “So what do you look like?” If you’re wearing a glamour, I might as well just get it over with now. Horns? Fangs? Hooves? Let’s take a peek. It can’t hurt.
After all, I’ve shared a bed with you. Does a demon glamour fool the skin as well as the eyes?
Japhrimel considered for a long moment. “What would you like?”
I swallowed so hard I was surprised my throat didn’t click. I turned to face him. “No, I mean it. What do you really look like?”
The dimness of orandflu lighting painted the hollows of his face. The hover started to descend again, pressure pushing against my eardrums.
“What would you have me look like, hedaira? If it would please you, I can wear almost any shape you can imagine.”
You know, before I met you, I might have had trouble believing that statement. Now I don’t have enough trouble believing it. I wonder which is worse. “But what are you underneath it? What’s the real you?”
A shadow of perplexity crossed his face. “This is the form I have worn most often,” he said slowly. “It does not please you?”
Just when I thought I had a handle on this, something new managed to wallop me. “Never mind.” I swung back toward the ladder and put my boot on the first rung. “We’ve got work to do.” I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation. “When are you going to let her out of that circle?”
“When I am certain she is more a help than a threat.” His hand came up, touched my shoulder. “Dante—”
I shook him off and began to climb.
CHAPTER 23
We entered Caracaz as morning rose steaming over the city, the hover dropping down into a haze turned rosy. Tiens had given the controls up to Lucas, who guided us down through freight lanes and streams of regular commuter traffic. The Nichtvren had vanished, and I wondered—not for the first time—where he spent his days. If there was a spot for him to sleep during daylight on the hover, it was well hidden.
Vann pushed a battered, bruised, and bandaged Leander out into the main cabin, not very roughly. The Necromance half-stumbled, but the Hellesvront agent made no move to help. From where I sat, straight-backed in a chair magsealed to the flooring with my sword over my knees, I could clearly see the damage done to Leander’s face. It turned my stomach.
“Bring him.” Japh stood, staring out a porthole dewed with condensation. We’d been flying through high clouds, and the drop into Caracaz’s muggy breathlessness would make the hover’s exterior stream with water before long.
Vann escorted Leander across the hover’s length. I hoped we were going to shift to a smaller craft. Flying around in this barge was enough to paint a big target on us.
Lucas glanced over his shoulder, turned back to the controls with a shrug. The message was clear. Leander was on his own.
Japhrimel let the Necromance stew for a bit. I kept staring at Leander’s accreditation tat, his emerald sparkling and singing with the presence of his god. Was he praying?
Would it do him any good? Even I had no idea what Japh was likely to do next. I wasn’t complaining much—I was hoping Lucifer couldn’t predict him either—but still.
Finally, his profile harsh and clear in the returning light of dawn, Japhrimel moved slightly, clasping his hands behind his back. “Do you know why you are still alive?”
Leander couldn’t help it. He shot me a glance, his dark eyes widening. He looked almost naked without his katana and weapons rig, his broad shoulders uneasy without their cargo of leather straps.
“Exactly,” Japhrimel said, as if Leander had spoken. “You are alive because it pleases my hedaira to see you so, and because it does not matter. There is no compelling reason to remove you. Still, it is a marvelous turn of events, that one such as you would help a demon in rebellion against the Prince.”
My ears perked. Does Japh just mean that he’s human and helping out a demon, or does he mean something else? Hegemony federal, which means Leander’s domestic internal affairs. Field agent, which means his Matheson score was over the moon to tip him into the domestic-defense program as an active instead of an analyst.
I sat up a little straighter, and watched the Necromance turn pale. The sharp smell of human decay under the screen of healthy male pheromones hiked in response to the fact that he was sweating, now.
I didn’t blame him. Japhrimel turned away from the porthole and let the full force of his glowing eyes rest on Leander. Vann stepped back, a move calculated to make the Necromance subconsciously aware he was alone.
He handled it well, shrugging and folding his bruised arms. He wasn’t cuffed or magtaped; the habit of years of bounty hunting rose under my skin. That was wrong, he was a combat-trained psion, a Hegemony field agent, and if I’d been hauling him somewhere I would have made damn sure he was trussed up tighter than a Putchkin Yule turkey.
But really, what could he do?
“I’m a sucker for bright-eyed girls with cute smiles.” The Necromance actually flashed Japhrimel a cocky grin. His pulse thundered audibly, and a chemical tang of fear spilled through the air.
I had to give him points for sheer brass. I couldn’t help myself. A laugh jolted out of me, the soft husky sound broken by the permanent damage done to my throat by the Devil’s fingers.
Japhrimel’s eyes flickered toward me.
I regained control of myself with an effort that made my hands shake just the tiniest bit.
“You are an agent of the human government.” Japhrimel’s tone hadn’t changed. “You are Lucifer’s tool just as surely as a
Hellesvront vassal. Why would you, a human, aid a demon in rebellion against the Prince?”
I blinked, replayed my mental footage. Yes, he’d just said that.
“Wait a second.” I took a step forward, my boots making a slight creaking sound. “The Hegemony—”
Japh’s tone was kind but utterly weary, as if I’d overlooked something so stupid-simple even a child could see it. “Do you really think Lucifer would allow it to remain in power if it was not thoroughly subject to his will?”
“The Alliance—” It occurred to me that surely, if the Hegemony was controlled, the Putchkin Alliance would be as well. And they were the only games in town as far as governments went, unless you were a Freetown with an independent charter—and sometimes, even then. The Hegemony and Putchkin often function as one world government with two major departments rather than rivals. With thermonuclear capability and the freedom of information traffic nowadays, rivalry doesn’t make sense. “Oh.”
I’d never bothered to think about just how deep the net of financial and other assets demons held on earth was. Hellesvront, Japhrimel called it, and he’d used it before while hunting Eve. But to think that those resources reached up into the government itself, that the Hegemony might be infested with Lucifer’s influence…
Is there anything around that demons don’t control?
“Hades.” Leander stared at me. “I never thought you were such an optimist, Valentine.”
Oh, shut up. The trembling went out of my hands as I took a deep breath. “You’re working for Lucifer?”
“I work for my division. We get orders from higher up.” Leander rubbed gingerly at his bruised face, stubble rasping against his blunt callused fingers. “You came to New Prague while I was following an arms-trafficking ring. I’d almost gotten in, too. Eight months of work down the drain as soon as I got word you were in town and I was to try and make contact if I could. Seventeen agents in the city got that message, but I was the only one unlucky enough to stumble across you. I was supposed to ID, keep a lock on you, and call in a strike. Orders from high up—they didn’t want you dead, just something noisy enough to draw attention to you. I was waiting for the teams to get into position when a hover falls out of the sky and some idiot lets off a plascannon.”
I shuddered. The reactive paint on the bottom of hovers and a plas field—that had been uncomfortable. Only a moron mixes reactive and plas; the resultant molecular-bond-weakening explosion is enough to give even the most hardened criminals pause.
Plot and counterplot, everyone having an agenda, and me blundering through the middle of it all, trying to keep my head above water. Bait intended to draw Eve out so Lucifer could close his filthy paws on her. All my struggling and striving had been next to useless.
And instead of treading water, I’d finally drowned. “So who dropped the hover on me?” Go figure, everything happening and me fixating on the one unimportant detail.
“You were not the target.” Japhrimel hadn’t moved his attention; it was still on Leander. His tone wasn’t combative, merely flat. “Though the strike was aimed at you, it was me they intended to kill. I have other enemies, hedaira, and your death would be a prize to any of them. Lucifer cannot control the avenues from Hell to your world any longer. We are on the brink of chaos.”
Tell me something I don’t know. The steady hissing whisper of fire under the surface of my thoughts surged; I fought to keep it back. Now was not the time to explode in homicidal rage. Save it for the next fight, Danny. There’s bound to be another one, after all.
“I got a directive after that, while we were in Saint City.” Leander dropped his hands. The hover dropped, water streaming down the porthole. Lucas whistled, a low tuneless sound of concentration as we banked, a wide shallow turn that meant he’d probably spotted our landing area. Vann leaned over his shoulder, murmuring something. “I was supposed to hook up with Omega—that’s what we call her, Project Omega—and liaise to neutralize him.” A quick sketch of a movement, his chin jerked toward Japh.
“Project Omega?” Hello? The Hegemony knows about Eve? Did they know about Santino too?
I had the answer to that one, a cynic’s answer. Of course. Trying to hunt Santino down after he’d killed Doreen was just one closed door after another, no help from law enforcement ostensibly because the murdering bastard had incorporated under the Mob laws and those files were sealed, unable to be opened for a simple homicide no matter how hard Gabe and I tried to link him to the other serial murders. You’d think they would have cooperated.
Now I was beginning to see why they hadn’t.
The memory of Gabe and me working together, frustration and grief making us both walking time bombs, finally giving up but never really stopping to pick at the scab of Doreen’s death, sent a pang right through me. The mess inside my skull twinged, turning over. I owed Gabe; I’d promised to look after her daughter.
Broken promises, a trail of deceit and manipulation. Just throw Danny Valentine into the snakepit and watch her jump.
“She was supposed to be the Hegemony’s way of slipping loose of Lucifer. If we had access to her, we could have experimented. There was a whole division ready to do testing. A real live cooperative demon to study? It’s the fucking Holy Grail. The scientists went gaga. Then something happened, she vanished, and the goddamn demons had her.” Leander made a slight restless movement, an abortive shrug. “And we couldn’t figure out what you had to do with it, and how you’d ended up involved with him.” Another jerk of his chin toward Japh, standing motionless and unblinking. “It was decided to just keep you under surveillance and see if the demons would bite again. They did, and I got sent in.”
“Gods.” I swallowed. “So that’s why you were so intent on sticking around.” And I let you. I even tried to protect you. Bile rose in my throat, was repressed, retreated. If I threw up now, the only thing that would come up was demon blood, and the thought made me feel even sicker.
“Got a job to do. You know how it is, Valentine.”
The worst thing was, I did.
Behind him, the water began to lift off in globular droplets as the temperature equalized. Our descent evened out. Lucas muttered something, and Vann murmured right back.
They’re Hellesvront agents too, Vann and McKinley. Why does Japhrimel trust them? Did he lie when he told me they were agents?
I didn’t know what to believe anymore. “So what’s your job now?”
“Right now I’ll settle for staying alive. I’ve missed four call-ins. They probably think I’m dead. No big loss, just another agent down in the crossfire.” His shoulders hunched, the crossed arms more of a defense now. “We’re expendable, even the psions. You get to knowing that for a while and it does funny things to your head.”
Was he fishing for sympathy? I didn’t have a whole hell of a lot left over for anyone but myself, and even that was in short supply.
The hover juddered a bit as landing gear unfolded. Japh’s glowing eyes met mine, and I could have sworn he was asking me for something. I couldn’t understand what. I simply stared, my brain shivering between past and present, a monstrous design coming clear. The Hegemony, Lucifer, Japhrimel, Eve…
Was there anyone still alive who hadn’t wanted to use me? When had I become such a game piece? Just pick me up, put me down, shove me from one place to the other. Even what Lucifer did wasn’t directed at me—it was a way to hurt Japhrimel, catch Eve. I wasn’t even worth personalized violence. No, it was all about who he could hurt through me.
Even my god, my safety in times of trouble, my refuge, had used my obedience to His will to spare a murdering sedayeen who had killed my best friend. Slaying a defenseless healer was a violation of who I was, but still… there was no way, standing over her with my sword in my hand, that I could have kept every vow I’d made, to my god, to my friend, or to myself.
And now this. Gods, demons, the government, everyone had their finger in the pie.
Even Japhrimel, who probably wasn’t
telling the whole truth either. He was conducting his own war against Lucifer, a war that sounded like it had started before I had ever been born. I might just be a convenient excuse, no matter what affection he felt for me.
Affection? Call it what it is, Danny. He loves you, but he won’t tell you the whole truth. Nobody will.
By every god there ever was, I hate being used.
My left hand tightened on Fudoshin’s scabbard. Were there any more lies waiting to be discovered?
I’ll bet there are. You’d better start thinking how you’re going to get out of this one alive, Danny. And once you do, where in the world will you be safe? Nowhere. There’s going to be game after game as long as Lucifer’s alive. The Devil doesn’t give up easily.
That left just one option. Playing back.
I’d lied too. My sorcerous Will was still strong, despite my betrayal of my sworn word in circumstances beyond my control—but still inexcusable. It was an article of my faith that my word was my bond. That I used my words, my voice, to control and shape the Power necessary to bring a soul back from the dry land of Death, so it was best to speak softly and do what I said I would. Wasn’t that who I was, who I had decided to be?
How far could I lie and still keep my own soul?
It was another article of faith that Japhrimel loved me, would always come for me, and would do his best to see me through this alive. Was that enough to excuse the lies? How much could I weigh each part of that equation?
Yet another article of faith: that my god would never abandon me by asking me for more than I could give. My right hand crept up, touched my naked right cheek. On my left cheek, the emerald sang a thin piercing note before it spat a single spark, my cheek prickling as the tat moved, a thorny caduceus twisting under my skin.
Not Anubis. Sekhmet. You should swear by Her, now. Who answered when you lay bleeding? Who has not broken faith with you?