Unearthed

  “I’m still laughing so hard at your little joke that I can’t decide if I should tell you or just go after him myself.”

  “Let me make the decision easier for you then: Tell me where he is.”

  “Seeing as how it would take you eighteen hours to get there, I guess it doesn’t matter. He’s in London.”

  Out of zone without papers. Shit. What if the European supers found him? She didn’t know which zone would be in charge of his execution once they realized he was a fugitive, but it didn’t matter. Because whoever got to do it wouldn’t be her.

  “Can you phase us there?” she asked.

  “Not unless you weigh under five pounds, which I’m guessing you don’t, especially after that sandwich you stole from me. I’m a demon, and we travel solo—clothes, cash, and nada else. Plus, London isn’t in my zone. So while Risers seem to enjoy the promise of execution, I don’t. I already have our Prime’s okay, but until the European Council gets back to him, I’m stuck here in North America. With you.”

  “So you decided to make a quick trip to taunt me with useless information?”

  “Taunt you, yes. Useless info, no. I figured you might want to visit Canada, seeing how Lamere is supposed to meet Otis at his place in Montreal tomorrow night. I’m pretty sure this tip is solid since it took some threatening and shaking to get Otis to stop whimpering and start talking.”

  “Thom. His name’s Thom. And you couldn’t just read his mind?”

  “Duh. What do you think I was doing while threatening and shaking him? Unlike humans, demons can multitask…when it comes to violence, at least.”

  Lamere having a home on the East Coast made sense—Montreal was in this zone, and people practically expected someone to go missing every once in a while in big cities. Plus, Lamere spoke French better than he spoke English. He’d even taught Keira some.

  I fucking hate that language.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Davyn played it off like what the hunter had said hadn’t meant anything, but inside things weren’t nearly as pretty. Even if she’d been serious, that kind of shit shouldn’t bother him.

  Fucking pussy gets his panties in a bunch because a human has a problem with the way he kisses. A human. Hu-man. It wouldn’t happen again, but if it did, he’d put her panties wherever he wanted them to be.

  “Come on,” she said. “You can tell me the rest in the cab.” Being human had some seriously inconvenient limitations.

  “I don’t take cabs.”

  She might fight moderately well, but she was still a tiny little thing wearing all black in a shitty neighborhood, so nobody pulled over for them. Although it may have been because she had a very big, very aggravated looking guy backing her up. So when the next cab came by, Davyn pitched in and quickly dug through the crap that filled the driver’s mind, looking for an unfulfilled desire.

  Naughty, naughty boy. Completely predictable and totally correct—the hunter was a hot piece of ass. She was also about a billion times more trouble than she’d be worth in the sack. Probably. Ah, fuck. No, she’d be fantastic in the sack. But that didn’t matter because Davyn wasn’t going to be in one with her.

  Thanks to Davyn, the driver tuned into doing something he wanted to do—pick up the hottie—instead of listening to his conscience, slamming his foot on the gas, and getting as far away from her boyfriend—Not her boyfriend, dude. Sooo not her boyfriend—as possible.

  The hunter looked at him over her shoulder, her eyes narrowed until he shrugged.

  “What?” he asked. “You wanted a cab. You have a cab. What’s your problem?” He slid in after she did. While it wasn’t always a good idea for him to be in vehicles of any kind, he’d just eaten so he had time before he set fire to anything.

  “The airport,” she said to the cabbie.

  Shit. He’d thought she would head home, grab some extra clothes, a toothbrush, and other human paraphernalia. The airport was at least twenty minutes away without traffic, an hour and a half with. Now he was stuck—he couldn’t appear or disappear in front of a human without being noticed, and being noticed doing magic of any kind was against the rules. Should’ve brought more food. He’d have to make do, prove how much stamina Fosfer demons really had.

  “Did you get an address before you”—she flicked her head to the driver—“you know?”

  “I controlled myself, puppet. Otis is just fine. In fact, he’s probably on his way there already. If I’d turned him into charcoal, Lamere would’ve known something was wrong.”

  After a few minutes, the cabbie turned on the air conditioner.

  “I should’ve known.” She glared at Davyn. “This is a serious problem for you, isn’t it?”

  “No problem at all.” He leaned closer to her so the driver wouldn’t hear. She smelled good. Fresh. Cool. Like rain or grass. “Since I can’t just phase out of here without our dear cabbie-friend seeing me, I’m going to tempt him into doing something he shouldn’t. You want in on it? Just don’t pick anything that will make him crash, because you don’t heal that well. Hang on.”

  “Davyn, don’t,” she said through her teeth.

  “Suit yourself. I’ll pick.” It wasn’t much, but it would help dispel a bit of the heat. The cabbie glanced around guiltily and reached over to the glove compartment, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. Without a word or an open window, he lit up.

  “Hope you guys don’t mind,” he said. “I promised my wife I’d quit, but every once in a while, I can’t help myself. She throws a fit when she smells smoke on me, so I try not to do it too often.”

  “Maybe she wouldn’t smell it on you if you opened a window.” The hunter coughed and opened one herself.

  “You don’t have to go, puppet. By the time your plane lands, I’ll have the place checked out, have eaten, taken a nap, and seen a show. Kidding about that last part. Those things are too long, and too much like taking a bath in the Dead Sea.”

  “Then why did you tell me at all?”

  “When Lamere comes back from London, he’s planning on staying in Montreal with Otis for a few days. Thought it might be fun for you. Plus, they put gravy on French fries. Anywhere they put gravy on French fries is somewhere worth going.”

  The fact that she was staring at him had nothing to do with him getting hotter. It was so tempting to slip into her head for a second. There had to be something interesting to work with in there, something she wouldn’t allow herself to do or think about. But her shield was strong, so she’d feel him go in.

  By the time they got to the terminal, he was twitching. He tossed a few bills at the chain smoker and slid out of the car.

  As she scooted over the area where he’d been sitting, her eyes widened and she laughed. “Warm for this time of year, isn’t it?”

  “Screw you and have a nice flight,” he said, stretching limbs that weren’t made for compact vehicles.

  “Wait.” She jogged a few steps to catch up with him. “You’re really not coming with me?”

  “My way’s a lot quicker. I’m staying at the Ritz-Carlton. Come by in the morning. Because we’re going to wait till daylight to do anything. Understand?” He waited for her annoyed nod. “And grab me one of those in-flight magazines. I like those.” He went around the corner where no humans would see him and took a shortcut to Montreal.

  Eleven

  The plane ticket and shuttle fare to downtown Montreal had wiped out Keira’s bank account. One thing the Rising never had enough of was money. Well, there were a lot of things the Rising didn’t have enough of. But money was the thing that kept Keira on the street, going into ugly hotel after ugly hotel, asking about their cheapest rate. Between her luck and limited knowledge of French, she couldn’t find anything.

  Strangely, as big as the city was, there weren’t nearly as many supers here as in San Francisco. The ones she ran into either ignored her completely or barely glanced at her seer identification badge. Maybe it was more than just the human population of Canadians who were nicer. Nah. Prob
ably not. Supers were supers no matter where they lived.

  The whole world had heard rumors about the prophecy beginning, but Addison still focused on the zone’s capital, wanting to win that over first, especially after the big setback. As Keira wandered around the city, she wondered if that was the right way to go about it, or the only way. Wouldn’t it help the cause if a bunch of other cities got involved? They might be easier to handle than the city that was home to the leaders of each race and had the highest saturation of other supers. A lot of smaller cities could influence a larger one, despite it being the center of North America’s paranormal world. Maybe she would talk to Addison about it when she got back, if she could gather enough courage. And was still alive.

  She cursed when she saw which hotel she stood in front of. And which demon.

  “Where’s my magazine?” He wasn’t using his glamour so, lucky for them, the people on the street missed out on his smug grin. “I was just going out to look for trouble. Want to watch?”

  She shook her head. “It’s late,” she said quietly, trying not to move her mouth. Ventriloquism had never made sense to her, or anyone else probably, before now. If she kept talking to invisible people, she should take a couple classes. “Gonna go to sleep.”

  “Are you staying here?”

  “Yep,” she lied. What he thought didn’t make any difference to her, but she’d rather not hear the ridicule, disbelief, and bad jokes when she told him she’d ended up here accidentally.

  “Great. Then let’s chat about Otis.”

  “Did you already find him? I thought you didn’t have an address.”

  “I didn’t,” he said. “That’s why I get paid the big bucks. Because I’m just that good.”

  “So what’d you find?”

  “Let’s go up to your room so all these nice people don’t have to keep pretending they’re not staring at you. Plus, your mumbling is completely indecipherable.”

  There were only a few problems with that: it was late, she was tired, and she didn’t actually have a room they could go to. “Um…tomorrow morning? We could meet for breakfast. Maybe just coffee.”

  He shook his head sadly. “Poor little puppet. Given what I know about the Rising—which thankfully isn’t much—I’m guessing you had to pay your own way here and you’ll get reimbursed in, what, four to six weeks? And given what I’ve seen of your wardrobe and what I know about you, I’d put all the money you don’t have on you planning to find a park bench to sleep on. Or maybe you’ll find a nice guy to go home with.” He tilted his head. “Nah. You’re not that much fun. Although, if you were, I could set it up for you. ’Cause I am that much fun.” He glanced around and, tragically, when he looked back at her, he caught her checking out his ass.

  “That wasn’t what it looked like.”

  “Uh huh,” he said, smirking at her lame attempt at denial. Shit. In every other regard, she was awesome at denial. “No worries, puppet. I’m aware how incredibly unattractive I am. And since I never, ever get checked out by women or men, for that matter, my mind didn’t go there for a second. Hang on. Lying isn’t a sin, is it? Because I’m trying not to do that anymore.” He didn’t even try to hide his smile.

  “Jerk.”

  “Pick someone to go home with. Seriously, anybody. It’ll be a challenge, but there’s nothing I love more than a challenge…and a good blow—”

  “I’m not going home with anyone,” she said quickly.

  “Then enjoy that bench. Too bad you didn’t bring a thicker jacket though, or know anyone who could keep you warm, maybe even hot. The nights get really cold up here.” As soon as he turned his back, she wrapped her arms around herself. It was already cold.

  “Stupid demon.”

  “I’m not, but yeah, lots of them are. Some are even as dumb as seers. But it’s unfair to judge an entire group based on one of their kind who always seems to make everything harder than it needs to be.”

  “Screw you.” Yelling at someone who couldn’t be seen by anyone other than her was not the way to go unnoticed. It’d be easier to pretend if she owned a cellphone, but why spend money she didn’t have for something she didn’t need? No one called her, and she had no one to call. Of course, the people passing didn’t know how pathetic her life was, but they could spot her crazy. So she tilted her head as if she was wearing an earpiece.

  “You need something I can give you, puppet,” he teased. “So what do you think should happen now?”

  “Another deal? What do you want?”

  “To hear your story.”

  She knew he didn’t mean a bedtime story or anything made up, but why would he care about her history?

  “That’s it? I tell you my story and you give me money.”

  “Shit, no! I’m not giving you money. Who knows what someone like you would blow it on. Your story in exchange for a place to stay and room service.”

  She rolled her eyes and then scowled at him.

  “It’s a rare thing to get that good of a deal from a demon,” he said. “You should take it.”

  “Thanks, but I think I know where you’re going with that, and no deal would be good enough to let that happen. Our kinds don’t mix, remember?” She clenched her jaw shut so he wouldn’t see her shiver.

  “The places your mind goes, puppet! Really. It’s…not very ladylike. That’s what makes it a lot more interesting. Sure, both of us naked, sweating, and coming has crossed my mind once or twice, or a couple hundred times, but I have no intention of actually making it happen. Although, seriously, it would be incredible, wouldn’t it? You naked and spread out for—” He turned away, grumbling. “Unfortunately, I seem to find a perverse sort of enjoyment in torturing myself with the idea. There’s not a lot demons want but can’t have. So we rarely feel temptations of our own. It’s nice.” He threw up his hands. “Or maybe it’s just not as boring as everything else is.”

  “Then if I’m providing you with a not-boring evening, isn’t that enough for you to cough up some of the cash you have too much of?”

  He smiled. “Only if you’re going to roll around naked in it. Your choice.”

  She neither agreed nor disagreed. He was a demon, so it would be stupid to answer without really thinking it over. But the cold was getting to her and if nothing else, any room he was in would be more than warm enough. “I’ll think about it upstairs.”

  As she followed him through the hotel, she tried not to look as pathetic as she felt. When they got to the elevators, he glanced around and went to the corner of the room where the security cameras wouldn’t see him.

  “Do you know how elevators work, puppet?” When he came back in solid form, she was in exactly the same spot and position—still too busy regretting every part of this decision to do anything else. “You press the button, and then the doors open to a box that takes you up and down.”

  “Gee, thanks.” She punched the button.

  It was the longest, most uncomfortable elevator ride she’d ever been on.

  “I’m ordering food.” He slipped his keycard into the lock and led her into his room. No, not a room. This was practically a house. “Shocking, I know. I’ll get enough for five, that way you can have something. But your mooching is getting out of hand, and we’re going to have to discuss it at some point.”

  “Excusez-moi.”

  His eyes flashed as brightly as his smile when he glanced at her. “You speak French, puppet. Très bien.”

  “Only a couple phrases Lamere taught me: ‘Je n'aurai jamais assez de toi,’ ‘Ne lutte pas,’ ‘Je t’aime,’ and ‘Ta douleur est tellement belle.’” She didn’t translate for him. ‘I’ll never have enough of you,’ ‘Don’t struggle,’ ‘I love you,’ and the always useful, ‘Your pain is so beautiful,’ sounded a lot prettier in French.

  She turned away when she realized he’d been listening intently. And staring, the phone resting in his hand. Okay, so maybe he understood a little French. “Other than that, I know the basics: bonjour, merci, numbers up to
ten, and cheese. You?”

  He didn’t answer immediately, making her wish she could take it all back. She was getting too comfortable with him, more comfortable than with anyone else in her life. Okay, that was just plain sad. Her best and only friend was a demon who liked her so much that he was constantly tempted to kill her. Yay, me. Mom would be so proud.

  She got squirmy, praying he’d make a joke or give her shit about what she’d said. The tension broke when he started speaking to someone on the phone, ordering what sounded like a stupid amount of food in perfectly fluent French—accent and all.

  He looked her right in the eye when he made his last request. “Et du fromage, s’il vous plaît.” He smiled at her, said, “Oui, c’est tout. Merci,” and then hung up the phone.

  “Okay, that was moderately impressive.” She wandered around his suite, wanting to touch everything but controlling herself. “Did you learn French at Demon High or what?”

  “I’m fluent in every language spoken in this zone. I can’t do my job if I can’t communicate, right?”

  “True. And considering how well you and I understand each other, I’d say your communication skills are excellent.” At least they understood each other’s sarcasm.

  “They are where it counts.” He tapped his head and leaned against the wet bar. “I know exactly what someone wants, dreams of, covets. Sometimes it’s so deep even they don’t know how bad they want it. And let me tell you, that can be some nasty, nasty stuff.”

  “Sounds fun.”

  “It can be.” He flicked his head dismissively. “Depends on who it is. Want me to check what’s going through your head? I would know your deepest desire as soon as I was inside you. And I think I’d enjoy being inside you very, very much.”

  She cleared her throat. “Thanks, but I already know what I want.” Lamere’s head severed from his body or a chunk of wood through his chest. Either would do.

  “Peripherally, sure. But it’s extremely rare for a human to really know what they want—past the bullshit, expectations, and pretending.”