“You’re in a dangerous game, Dante.” She moved slowly, like oil, over to the chair that stood with its back to the hellhound. She sank down gracefully, crossed her legs. “Lucifer has contracted you to kill four demons.”
I found myself lowering into the other chair, the katana across my knees. My heart beat thinly in my wrists, my ankles, my throat. In my temples. I swallowed, hearing my throat click. “Yes,” I said cautiously. One of them’s standing right over there, pretending to be a block of marble. I cast a quick nervous glance at him, wished I hadn’t. His eyes were fixed on her, he hadn’t shifted or moved a muscle but his entire being seemed to yearn toward her. I can bet you’re one of them too. No wonder Lucifer . . . gods. Oh, gods. Did Japhrimel know? Did he?
She smiled again, that same half-quirk of her lips that seemed so familiar. “I suppose I’m one of them too, then. The Twins, Kel, and I have all escaped Hell.” She leaned back into the chair, looked away from me. Doreen’s eyes in her face, staring into the fire. “The fault is mine. I am . . . unique, it seems.”
Then her eyes returned to me. Her gaze was so like Doreen’s I was having trouble breathing. The demon and the hellhound were utterly still, Lucas just as still. As if the only two people in the room were Eve and me.
I was almost beginning to believe she was sitting in front of me. “Dante,” she said, “listen very carefully. I am about to tell you something nobody else knows. Varkolak Vardimal created me from two genetic samples: one taken from the Egg, Lucifer’s genetic material. The other sample was a sedayeen—your friend and lover. What Vardimal may not have known, and what the Prince of Hell certainly doesn’t know, was that the second sample was contaminated with someone else’s material.” She paused, maybe for effect. “Yours. You are my other mother, Dante. When Vardimal bled the sedayeen, he somehow got your blood in the mix.”
Memory slammed into me, swallowed me whole.
“Game over,” he giggled, and the awful tearing in my side turned to a burning numbness as he slashed, I threw myself backward, not fast enough, not fast enough.
“Danny!” Doreen’s despairing cry.
“Get out!” I screamed, but she was coming back, hands glowing blue-white, still trying to heal.
Trying to reach me, to heal me, the link between us resonating with my pain and her burning hands—
Made it to my feet, screaming at her to get the fuck out, Santino’s claws whooshing again as he tore into me, one claw sticking on a rib, my sword ringing as I slashed at him, too slow. I was too slow.
Falling again. Something rising in me, a cold agonizing chill. Doreen’s hands clamped against my arm. Warm exploding wetness. So much blood. So much.
Her Power roared through me, and I felt the spark of life in her dim. She held on, grimly, as Santino made little snuffling, chortling sounds of glee. The whine of a lasecutter as he took part of her femur, the slight pumping sound of the bloodvac. Blood dripped in my eyes, splattered against my cheek. Sirens howling in the distance—Doreen’s death would register on her datband, and aid hovers would be dispatched. Too late, though. Too late for both of us.
I passed out, hearing the wet smacking sounds as Santino took what he wanted, giggling that high-pitched strange chortle of his. His face burned itself into my memory—black teardrops painted over the eyes, pointed ears, the sharp ivory fangs. Not human, I thought, he can’t be human, Doreen, Doreen, get away, run, run—
Her soul, carried like a candle down a long dark hall, guttering. Guttering. Spark shrinking into infinity. I am a Necromance, but I couldn’t stop her rushing into Death’s arms. . . .
I stared at her, my nape prickling and my mouth full of copper. It could be true. We’d certainly both bled enough when he killed her. But wouldn’t Santino have known? A demon geneticist was perfectly capable of telling a contaminated sample from a pure one. There was no reason for him to even keep a contaminated sample.
Unless he’d guessed he might find a use for it.
She looked back at me. Her mouth curled up in that little half-smile again. “Vardimal may or may not have known. In any case, it was immaterial once he realized the value of what he had—a viable sample. A viable fetus.” Now her mouth pulled down into a soft grimace, Doreen’s little moue of distaste. It was damn hard to think with the smell of her filling the air. I shivered galvanically on the hard seat, my eyes flicking past her to the dozing hellhound and returning, compelled, to meet hers.
Doreen’s eyes. My dead lover’s eyes.
In someone else’s face—a face that held an echo of Lucifer. I was responding to her, unfamiliar desire rising to swamp me. A thin trickle of heat purred through my belly. Doreen. Oh, gods, Doreen.
My heart slammed against my ribs. The mark on my shoulder was alive with heat, burrowing into my skin. “Why are you telling me this?” I still sounded choked. I’m in a room with two demons, a hellhound, and Lucas Villalobos. Anubis protect me.
“I’m explaining.” Her voice was soft, soothing. “Vardimal failed to keep me away from him. The call the Prince is capable of exerting on an Androgyne is . . . immense. We are of his kind and he is the oldest, the Prime. I had very little chance of denying him access to my mind when I was a child. However . . . the Prince, whenever he creates an Androgyne, also implants several commands before the Androgyne is hatched. One of them is obedience. I wasn’t implanted until I was five human years old. The implant held until very recently.” The half-smile was back. I realized with a deep chill that I recognized it because I’d seen it in the mirror. It was my own expression. “It seems I have inherited your stubbornness, Dante. That is the only explanation I can arrive at for why the Prince has been unsuccessful in his attempt to break me.”
“Break you?” My voice seemed to come from very far away. My hands felt weak and unsteady, as if they were shaking. What would Japhrimel think of this? Does he know? Did he?
If Japhrimel had known, and hadn’t told me . . . there was nothing, nothing that could make that omission less than a complete and utter betrayal.
Had he thought I wouldn’t find out? Of course not. He was certain he was stronger than me, able to force me to do whatever he wanted.
Had he known? Would I ever get to ask him, and could I trust his answer if I did?
My chest split, cracking. Now I know I have a heart, I thought inconsequentially. It’s breaking.
The thought managed to shock me back into rationality. Eve. Here. In the world, free. Maybe not for very much longer, since Lucifer had contracted not only me and Japhrimel but possibly more hunters to track her down. No wonder I’d felt like bait. I was bait, a lure to draw her out. To betray her without even knowing it.
“I am the only Androgyne to leave Hell for many mortal years, other than the Prince.” She blinked her dark blue eyes at me. Her face was clear, unlined, but mature. She looked like a woman on the cusp of twenty-five, except for the shadow of demon knowledge in her gaze.
She couldn’t be more than seven or eight human years old. How long had she been out of Hell, if Lucifer had been asking for me all this time?
A year in Hell is not the same as a year on earth. How old was she in Hell years? Were they like dog years? How many to a human year, how old was she, how long had she been there, suffering under the Prince of Hell?
Bile rose in my throat, and rage under my ribs. Cold, vicious rage, of a type I’d never felt before in all my long and angry life.
This rage was different. It was pure unalloyed hatred.
My eyes flickered back to Velokel. Returned to Eve.
She continued, apparently thinking I was too stunned to respond. She was right. “I am in rebellion against the Prince. I am Androgyne, and I am determined to stay alive and free.” She took a deep breath. “I want your help, Dante. I’m not bargaining, I’m only asking. You’re capable of feigning to hunt me and mine, I’m asking you not to try too hard. Distract your A’nankhimel. Seven years from now your bargain with the Prince will be done, and I promise you all the
protection and aid I can offer.” She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. “Freedom, Dante. I want mine, you want yours—together we can provide an alternative to the Prince and his stranglehold on both earth and Hell.”
That was uncomfortably similar to Santino’s cant about freeing everyone from Lucifer. But Santino had wanted to implant me with other Androgyne fetuses. He had thought he could rule Eve, and through her, Hell. I looked over her shoulder at the dozing hellhound, steam rising gently from its pelt. Velokel still stared at Eve, an expression on his round face I had no trouble deciphering. It was equal parts fierce concentration and protective tenderness, he didn’t bother to disguise it. It would have been a human expression except for the blazing intensity in his catslit eyes. He looked obsessed with her. Velokel, apparently, was in love.
If demons could love. I’d seen that look before on another demon’s face.
“Gods above,” I rasped. “Are you serious?”
“I swear on the waters of Lethe, this is the truth. I ask you only for time. I won’t twist your arm and try to force you like he would.” It was obvious who “he” was, every time she mentioned Lucifer her pretty face twisted.
You know, I understand. What would it be like to live in Hell, to live with that goddamn viper that calls itself Lucifer? She’s half human. Half Doreen. What part of her is mine? I took a deep, endless breath. Let’s get this straight. “You want me to break my bargain with Lucifer. Set myself up against the Devil.”
She nodded. “I do.”
I blew out through my teeth. Well, nice to know we understand each other. “That’s one tall order, sunshine.”
Velokel stirred. Eve lifted her expressive golden hand, and he stopped, subsiding against the wall. The hellhound didn’t move. I snapped a glance at Lucas, who looked supremely unconcerned, leaning against the door. His bandoliers creaked as he shifted his weight, a small sound.
Eve lowered her hand. “Think on it, Dante. He fears you. You took the Right Hand and stood a very real chance of denying him access to me. Had you not returned to Nuevo Rio, he would have been forced to treat with you as a suppliant. Not so long ago, he tried to bargain with your Fallen to kill you. Theoretically, in return the Eldest would be restored to Hell. Such a thing is impossible, and well Lucifer knew it. Still, your Fallen refused, I heard it myself. The Prince was desperate to regain his Right Hand. His hold on Hell has been slipping for quite some time.”
Wait a second. Back up. When did this happen? Maybe during the time Lucifer was asking to see me and Japhrimel was refusing? My heart leapt inside my ribs. Japhrimel had refused to kill me in order to go back to Hell. Never mind that it was “impossible.”
How twisted was it, that I grabbed at that to feel better? But I had another question. “What about the demon who wanted to kill me in New Prague? The hellhound?”
“Kel wished to meet the Eldest and treat with him, but retreated when he realized the Kinslayer had misunderstood his attempt. The hellhounds in New Prague were not part of Kel’s pack. Another demon might have rebelled and sought to strike before the Kinslayer could find him—after all, the Eldest is the demon most feared among those who would rebel against the Prince. There are other trackers and hunters after me as well, Dante. The world is full of peril.” She tipped her elegant head. Power stroked along my skin, as warm as Japhrimel’s nonphysical caress. I was hard put to swallow a slight, betraying sound as my body flushed with heat. “Tell your Fallen this is Kel’s pledge—he will not hunt you unless you threaten us.”
Velokel seemed almost to leap without moving, his attention suddenly refocused on her. Eve’s eyes dropped slightly, and a faint flush rose to her cheeks. Very interesting. I had the idea that this Kel was a little more intimately involved with Eve than he should be.
Good to know.
“Kel.” My eyes met his for a long moment. The mark on my shoulder began to pulse, quietly. “The Hunter. The one who hunted hedaira?”
Eve tilted her head, her pale hair moving soft and silky. “He did so at the Prince’s orders. Were you told who hunted the ones Kel could not?”
No, nobody told me about that. I met her eyes. “Let me guess. The Right Hand.”
She nodded. “The Prince’s Eldest killed more A’nankhimel and hedaira than Kel could hope to. He is not called Kinslayer for nothing.”
My skin chilled. No wonder Japhrimel didn’t talk about the Fallen, if he’d killed so many of them. He must have never expected to end up as one of them.
Oh, gods. Japhrimel. Did you know about this? About her?
I licked my numb lips. “I can’t say for sure. But if it’s possible, if can do it, I’ll help you.” Then I spoke the words. “I promise.”
If she did manage to break Lucifer’s hold on Hell, what would happen? Would there be uncontrolled demons roaming the earth? I was no Magi, but I knew enough about Hell’s citizens that the prospect filled me with an uncomfortable feeling very close to terror.
But what else could I do? What the hell else could I do?
Eve opened her mouth to reply, but a thin growl rose through the air. I looked past her shoulder. The hellhound’s head was up, its teeth bared. It didn’t look at me, it looked at the door.
Velokel spoke, a single word, sharp and weighted with the consonants of the demons’ strange, unlovely language. He was suddenly tense, his broad shoulders corded with muscle. He reminded me of a bull, powerful and slow, but I was willing to bet he had the same spooky, blurring speed as other demons.
“Time to go,” Lucas said. “Come on, chica.”
I made it to my feet like an old woman. One shock after another, I was starting to feel like a punch-drunk cagefighter. My hand fastened on my swordhilt as I stared at the hound. Oddly enough, I was more scared of the hellhound than of Velokel.
Eve stepped close to me. Her smell, the smell of an Androgyne, a scent that threatened to unloose my knees and spill me to the floor, caressed me. My head filled with heat, my lips parted. I’d never responded like this to Lucifer—I’d been too terrified to feel anything close to desire for him, even though he was beautiful and lethal. I had never had a sexual response to pure Power before, but she was heir to all Lucifer’s crackling force and she wore Doreen’s face like a sexwitch wears submission, like a perfume. The face of my sedayeen lover, the person who had taught me the prison of my body could be a source of joy as well as pain.
You feel everything, don’t you? Doreen had asked me once. But you don’t like to show it. You keep that mask of a face up, and people think you don’t care. But you do, Danny. You care.
She had been the only person, ever, who understood that about me. She had been the only lover who hadn’t asked more of me than I could give.
I had given her all I had.
What wouldn’t I do, if only for Doreen’s memory, if only to expunge the guilt of my failure to protect her?
“Don’t decide yet. I’ll contact you when I can.” Eve’s breath touched my cheek, warm and forgiving.
I nodded, beyond words. Was it true?
Did my blood mix with Doreen’s? Was my genetic material part of Eve’s?
Was she my child as well? My daughter, the only daughter I would ever have. I couldn’t see myself breeding with Japhrimel. Sekhmet sa’es, no. Not now. Maybe not ever.
He refused to kill me. He turned Lucifer down. Gods. I stood frozen as she stepped away, beckoning to the hellhound. It got up, shook itself, and paced after her as she walked to the nivron fireplace. Then, wonder of wonders, she stepped into the fire, flame lifting to caress her body like a lover, and promptly vanished. A high squealing note of Power split the air, my rings spat and the wristcuff rang with green light. Velokel gave me one narrow-eyed, lip-curling look and followed. The hellhound looped on itself and leapt through the fire after them. Vanished.
What the hell, were we supposed to hunt her when she can walk through fucking walls? Why didn’t Lucifer mention that?
Of course he hadn’t told me. I would never have
agreed to hunt Eve, no matter what he threatened me with.
Japhrimel. Had he known?
He refused to kill me to go back home to Hell, and he’ll at least keep me alive. I’m feeling pretty fucking charitable toward him right now. Except for the little matter of him possibly keeping this to himself.
Lucas was at my shoulder. “Don’t stand around, Valentine. Somethin’ tells me we better get out of here. We got a transport to catch.”
“Gods,” I said. “Gods. Did you believe a word of that?”
“Analyze later,” he said, just as the mood of the building underneath—sex and feeding and music blurring together—tipped strangely. A single thrill of fear slid up my spine. “Move now.” He flung the door open and began down the stairs.
“We’re not going out the window?”
“Nope,” Lucas flung over his shoulder. “Sheer brick wall straight down to a blind alley, we’ll be trapped like rats. Come on, chica. I’m s’posed to keep you alive.”
38
We jolted down the stairs and burst out into the music. The werecain guard at the door was gone. I checked my datband, lifting my left hand, weighted with my sword.
Quarter to midnight. I was beginning to think I might still be alive and not dead of shock. Power spiking in the air cleared my head, and I noticed the crotch of my panties was uncomfortably damp. I had never responded like that before. Never.
She was Doreen’s child, and maybe mine. That I reacted to her was a shameful secret, nothing more. She did, after all, wear my dead lover’s face. I wasn’t attracted to her, I told myself. No, I was simply determined to keep Doreen’s daughter from being dragged back into Hell or killed to salve Lucifer’s fucking pride.
I’ve had just about enough of the Devil. My eyes found the wristcuff snugged above my datband.
The cuff ran with fluid lines of green fire, settling into a frozen, scratched rune, a backwards-leaning spiked H.
Danger.
Yeah, like I don’t already know that. I was beginning to feel like myself again. If Japhrimel had known it was Eve instead of Lucifer here . . . had he guessed? Why had he thought Lucifer wanted a little chat with me again? Leonidas hadn’t named the demon wanting to see me, and I wondered about that too.