Dante Valentine

  I hadn’t thought it possible that a demon could seduce me. But seduction was what demons did. Cajoling, enticing, fascinating, tempting—they made it into sport, and had a long time to practice.

  He kissed my cheek, the corner of my mouth; I tipped my head back, a small pleading sound escaping me, and his mouth met mine. This kiss wasn’t like the first—it was gentler. Softer. A sharp, greedy demon I could fight. Japhrimel, gentle, sharing his mouth with me as if he was human, and mine—I had no defense against that.

  Japhrimel led me through Jace’s house, his warm fingers in mine. I cried without a sound, tears sliding down my cheeks as he closed the door of yet another bedroom behind us. He wiped away the tears, tenderly, and I forgot to weep as he told me silently everything I had always wanted to hear.

  CHAPTER 46

  It’s a ten-hour hover flight,” Jace said. “You said we needed something that could go over water.”

  I eyed the freight hover, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. It looked like a garbage scow, dirty and blunt-nosed. Her name—Baby— was permasprayed on her hull in pink. “Any particular reason why you chose this piece of trash?”

  “Watch.” Jace lifted his wrist and tapped his datband. He was grinning, an expression he usually reserved for when he’d won a card game.

  The hover—almost as big as a freight transport—vanished. My jaw dropped. I saw the marble plaza, the smoke drifting up from Nuevo Rio in the background, hover traffic beginning to slide through the city once more—but no garbage scow.

  I lifted my own datband and scanned. Then I dug in my bag and extracted my datpilot, scanned again. I thinned my shields and tried to find any electromagnetic disturbance.

  Nothing. If I hadn’t watched it vanish, I would never have guessed.

  “Gods above and below,” I said. “How did you—”

  “Hegemony military tech and a little extra,” he replied, his golden hair shimmering in the reflected light from the vast marble courtyard. “I’ve got a great Tech guy, and your demon’s been pretty useful. Invisible to radar, deepscan, magscan, and psi. It’s faster than it looks, too. And it’s combat-equipped, fore-and-aft plascannons—”

  “Yeah, but does it have that new-hover smell?” Eddie snorted. He handed me a small plas package full of six gray crystalline nubbins, each as big as my thumb. “Firestarters. Be careful, okay?” But his eyes didn’t quite meet mine. I didn’t blame him. I had trouble looking in the mirror, and I was living inside this new body.

  Gabe shrugged, her coat settling against her shoulders. “I’ve got the map,” she said. “Let’s get this show on the road, huh?”

  “One second.” Jace pressed his datband again, and the hover reappeared. “She only looks ugly, guys. She’s got a heart of gold.” He produced his chromium hip flask.

  An ash-smelling wind touched my hair. Nuevo Rio had stopped burning, but it would be racked with gunfire again as soon as Jace’s lieutenants moved out into the city. Hours of frantic planning had narrowed down to this: if his network succeeded, Jace would take over all the Corvin Family’s assets in Nuevo Rio and probably elsewhere in the Hegemony. It was the accepted method for a Family to start out, in murder and fire after all the legal paperwork of incorporation was done. And we hoped it would distract Santino—he was arrogant enough to think that if we were attacking the Corvin Family, we weren’t going after him, right?

  Wrong, I thought.

  Jace unscrewed the flask, took a swig. Rolled it around in his mouth. Tossed it back. “We who are about to die, salute you,” he said. Handed the flask to Gabe, who glanced at me.

  “A sort of ritual,” I said. “Every time we started a job, we would take a slug and give a quote. Good luck.”

  She shrugged, took a hit, and coughed, her cheeks flushing pink. “Let the gods sort them out,” she said, and grimaced. “Hades love me, that’s foul.”

  Eddie took the flask, took a long swallow. “Fortis fortunam iudavat,” he growled. Coughed slightly, blinking watering eyes. “Goddammit, Jace, what is that?”

  “Jungle juice,” Jace replied. He was smiling, and his eyes glittered madly. Fey.

  Eddie handed me the flask. If it was a gesture, it was a good one. I tipped it into my mouth, a long swallow, felt it burn fiercely all the way down. I coughed, my eyes watering. “Go tell the Spartans, passers-by; That here, obedient to their orders, we lie.” It was just as awful as every other time I’d tasted it. I gave the flask back to Jace, who watched me for a moment. Had he been watching the flask meet my mouth, the way my throat moved as I swallowed? Maybe.

  Then he passed it over my shoulder to Japhrimel, who stood dark and silent as ever. “Take a swig and give a quote,” Jace said. “You’re one of us.”

  I don’t know what it cost Jace to say that, but I was grateful. I bit my lip, sinking my teeth in, but nobody looked at me.

  “I suppose he is,” Gabe chimed in. “He saved Danny’s life.”

  “And got her involved in this in the first place,” Eddie snorted. She elbowed him, her emerald glittering in the late-morning sunlight. The afternoon storm was just beginning to gather on the horizon, a dark smudge. I could smell approaching rain and nervous peppery adrenaline from them all. Except Japhrimel.

  Japhrimel took the flask, lifted it to his mouth. A single swallow. His eyes dimmed slightly. “A’tai, hetairae A’nankimel’iin. Diriin.” He handed the flask back to Jace. “My thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Jace tipped the flask, poured a smoking dollop out onto the marble, and then capped it deftly. “Well, if we’re going to make a suicide run, let’s get on with it.”

  “Let’s hope it’s not suicide,” Gabe said dryly. “I’ve got property taxes. I can’t afford to die.”

  CHAPTER 47

  I watched out the window as the dark nighttime ocean slid away underneath us. Japhrimel leaned against the hull on the other side of my window, looking out as well. The hold was fitted with utilitarian seats, the entire back section filled with crated supplies. I hoped we didn’t need everything we had brought—we could hunt Santino for months on what we’d packed. If I had to spend months doing this I would probably go crazy.

  Gabe, strapped into the captain’s chair, piloted us with a deft touch. Eddie paced down the length of the hover’s interior, silently snarling, whirled on his heel, paced back, stared out the front bubble, then whirled back and repeated the whole process. He was readying the golem’ai to be released. They were a Skinlin’s worst weapon, the mud-things. I felt a small shiver trace up my spine.

  Jace leaned back in his chair, his eyes shut. It was his usual prejob ritual, to sit quiet and still, maybe going over the plan in his head, maybe praying, maybe silently chanting to a loa. The thorn-twisted tattoo on his cheek shifted slightly.

  And me? I sat and stared at my hands, clasped loosely around my katana’s hilt. Golden skin under my rings. Light sparkled under the amber and moonstone and silver and obsidian. They rang and shifted with Power constantly now, demon-fed.

  I had far too much now, too much to control. Power jittered in the air around me, working its way into my brain, teasing and tapping and begging to be used. I slid my katana free, just an inch or so, and watched a faint blue glow play over the metal. The song of my runespelled blade, familiar, resonated under the whine of hovercells.

  I looked up at Japhrimel, who studied the waves, his profile sharp and somehow pure in the blue light. I blinked.

  His eyes were no longer bright laser-green. Instead, they were dark, dimming. I gasped, shoved my katana back into its sheath. “Japhrimel?”

  He glanced at me, then smiled. It was a shared, private smile that made my breath catch. I was lying in bed with him this morning, I thought, and a hot flush slid up my cheeks. “Your eyes,” I said, weakly.

  Japhrimel shrugged. It was an elegant movement. Would I share his grace? The crackling aura of Power that followed him around? There are worse things, I thought, and then flinched. No. I’m human. Human.
br />   No, I’m not. I realized for the umpteenth time, my fist clenched on my katana’s hilt.

  “Dark now,” he said. “Probably. I am glad of it.”

  “Why?”

  His smile widened slightly. “It means I am no longer subject to Hell,” he said shortly. “Only to you.”

  “So you’re technically free? You could walk away from this?” I persisted.

  “Of course not. It simply means that once the Egg is returned to Lucifer, I stay with you.”

  “I’m not so sure I’m comfortable with that,” I answered, and went back to staring out the window. “What is he likely to have on that island, Japhrimel?”

  “Several rings of defenses, human guards, other things.” Japhrimel still leaned against the hull. “It is impossible to guess. Best just to wait and see.”

  “Like a standard hit on a military installation,” Gabe supplied from the front. “Can’t tell until we get there, going to have to just go loose and fast. Not enough time for proper intel.”

  We’d gone over this before, but the conversation was comforting. Better than the silence, anyway. But something was bothering me, some question I couldn’t quite frame.

  “Well, if we’re invisible, we can recon a little before we send their asses to hell,” Eddie growled. Then he glanced at Japhrimel. “No offense.”

  Japhrimel blinked. “None taken.”

  I watched the sea heaving below. I’d never liked the sea. Anything that big and unpredictable gave me the willies. Ditto with thunderstorms, some of the Major Works… and demons.

  The question clicked into my conscious mind as I sat staring out the window. Just how exactly did Santino escape Hell? He was scary, much scarier than any human monster I’d faced. But still… I’d seen Hell now, and it didn’t seem likely that Santino had possessed the kind of Power necessary to wrench himself out of the Prince’s grasp, especially with something so valuable as the Egg. Of course, the Egg wasn’t often used… so it was probably guarded.

  Guarded by a demon Lucifer thought he could trust.

  My eyes traveled up Japhrimel’s coat, fastened on his profile. I did not want to be thinking this, especially since I’d spent the morning rolling around in bed with him. He hadn’t let me down yet; I could ask him the hard questions later.

  If there was a later.

  We had about four hours before we reached the island, and then we had to find whatever installation Santino had there, and then we had to crack it and kill him—and rescue the little girl.

  Doreen’s daughter. Or Doreen cloned. Lucifer cloned with a bit of Doreen. One-quarter? One-half? How much? Did it matter? Of course not. I owed Doreen. If nothing else, she had given me my body back, made it possible for the terrified girl inside me to finally go to sleep and the adult begin to come out.

  Oh, come on, Danny! I thought, lifting my katana, resting my forehead against the sheath. I was glad we were running dark, so I couldn’t see my reflection in the windowplas. What are you going to do with a demon child? Play mommy? Send her off to school and hope she doesn’t burn the whole goddamn place down?

  Doesn’t matter, I answered. You can’t hand a little kid—Doreen’s kid—over to Lucifer. You just can’t. What will he do to her? You owe Doreen. She saved your life at the expense of her own.

  I sighed. Here I was, sitting in a retrofitted garbage scow, dragging my best friend—and who qualified as my best friend now if Gabe didn’t?—and her boyfriend into this. And Jace. And Japhrimel, but he could probably take care of himself.

  Could he? Why the hell was I worrying about him?

  I lowered my katana, drummed my fingernails on the hilt. “Japhrimel?”

  “Dante.”

  “Are you… are you vulnerable, now?” I sounded a lot less certain than I wanted to.

  “Not to humans,” he said, shortly. “To some demons, perhaps. Not many.”

  “Is Santino one of them?”

  He shrugged. “I am not worried about him.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “You have grown more perceptive.”

  “And you’re giving me the run-around. Which means he could hurt you.”

  “The Power contained in the Egg might conceivably damage me. However, I am not the one he wishes to capture.” Japhrimel was a statue of darkness now, only his skin faintly luminescent.

  “He shot me. I doubt ‘capture’ is on his laundry list where I’m concerned.”

  “If he wanted to kill you, he would have eviscerated you, Dante. He could have. Instead, he only shot you, knowing we were close enough that your condition would delay us. He obviously means to recollect you at his leisure. Which means he has a plan.”

  That didn’t help me feel any better. I opened my mouth, but Jace beat me to it. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “As soon as my Family moves on the Corvins, all Santino’s neat little plans go out the window. He won’t have any resources left to fuck around.”

  “I doubt your move on him is unanticipated,” Japhrimel said quietly. The hover rattled. I tensed in my chair, and Eddie growled.

  “Still doesn’t fucking matter,” Eddie growled. “We’re taking him down.” He swung around to pin us all with a ferocious glare. “I ain’t come all this way and been beat up and stuffed in two hovers to let him get off with just a spanking. ’Sides, we got the Gabriele Spocarelli. An’ Jace Monroe. And Danny Valentine version two, kickass demon Necromance with her own pet demon boy. And you’ve got Eustace Edward Thorston III, Skinlin sorcerer and pretty pissed-off dirtwitch berserker.” He showed his teeth, lips peeling back. “He hurt my Gabby,” he continued softly. “And I’m gonna make him pay.”

  I blinked. It was the longest speech I’d ever heard from him.

  Gabe didn’t twist around in her seat, but I could tell from the set of her shoulders that she was smiling. Japhrimel had turned, and was regarding Eddie with a faintly surprised look. Jace grinned, his eyes closed, his head lolling against his seatback.

  I cleared my throat. “Thanks, Eddie. I feel better,” I said dryly.

  And the funny thing was, I did.

  CHAPTER 48

  Holy motherfucking shit,” Gabe whistled out tunelessly. “Would you look at that.”

  “What about the radiation scans?” I asked.

  “Flatline. They can’t see us,” Jace said, leaning over Gabe’s shoulder, buckling his rig. “Ogoun…” he breathed. “Damn.”

  “Impressive,” Gabe giggled. It was a carefree, girlish sound, but it set my teeth on edge. “Looks like a bad holovid villain’s hideaway.”

  Below us, the icy sea broke foaming against sheer cliffs. The island was a hunk of rock rising from ice-floes, and the castle crouched atop it, spires of stone rearing up from darkness, decked with tiny yellow and blue points of light. It looked like something out of a Gothic fairytale, spire upon spire, screaming gargoyle shapes torn out of the stone.

  “Get me a laseprint of that,” I said, and Jace’s fingers danced over a keyboard. The computers hummed. A laseprinter droned into life. “Are you sure we’re invisible?”

  Eddie tore the paper free. “Looks like antiaircraft batteries here, here, here, and here,” he said, smacking the printout down on a small foldout table. “If they knew we were here, they’d blast us out of the sky.”

  I passed my palm over the smooth paper. We’d done our final equipment checks. All that remained was to actually drop out the side hatch and start causing trouble. “Jace, get me a couple of different views. Gabe, keep us going slow. Magscan shielding is no good unless we drift a bit.”

  “I know, Mom,” Gabe sneered. “Let me fucking drive, okay?”

  “They are unaware,” Japhrimel said. “Dante, this place is heavily guarded.”

  “Good,” I said. “The more confusion, the better.”

  Jace laid another two printouts down. “More?” he asked, and my eyes met his. It was a moment of complete accord, the kind we used to have while we were working together.

  “Ca
n you penetrate the shielding?” I asked.

  “That is no trouble,” the demon answered, his eyes never leaving me. “Santino has no demon shielding; if he did, Lucifer could track him. He is naked here, depending on secrecy.”

  “Good.” I spread my hands over the printouts. “Japhrimel, make sure I don’t bleed through,” I said.

  He nodded. “Of course.”

  I focused, looking for the link I’d followed before. It was weak—the child wasn’t Doreen, and she wasn’t human. But then again, neither was I. Not anymore.

  I followed the thread-thin cable stretched tautly over the roiling sea below. Reaching. Reaching.

  Contact.

  —who are you—

  The voice was neither male nor female, but it was familiar, as familiar to me as my own. A wave of heat sparking up my arms, into my bones, my heart pounding, mouth full of copper.

  Disengage, ripping free, link open, too open, salt against raw wound, Doreen, the memory of Doreen tilting her head back, her hands full of blue-white fire, her blood everywhere—

  —who are you—

  The contact stretched. My mental “fingers” froze, unable to let go, as whoever it was—the kid? But no kid can be this strong— examined me like a fly caught in a glass.

  I stumbled back. Japhrimel caught my shoulders, steadied me, absorbed the backlash of Power. He rested his chin on top of my head. “Dante?”

  “Fine.” I said. My fingertip glued itself to a space on the printout. Whatever that is, it’s not a kid. It looks like a kid, but it’s not a kid. But it’s Doreen’s, and I promised. “She’s here. We’ll hit here hardest and extract her.”

  “Sounds good,” Gabe said. “I’ll put ol’ Betsy here on autopilot.”

  I looked up at Eddie. The shaggy blond Skinlin hitched his leather coat higher on his shoulders, then checked his guns for the umpteenth time. “Maybe you should stay here, Gabe,” I suggested.

  “Fuck that,” she returned equably, her fingers tapping an AI pilot deck. Coordinates entered, she slid out of the captain’s chair and picked up her rig, buckling herself into it. Projectile guns, plasguns, knives, and triggers for various spells settled into their accustomed places. Even in a rig she looked impossibly elegant. “I’m not about to stay in here while you go have all the fun.”