Sweet Evil (30 page)

One by one I lost each drink, then I flushed the toilet and slid down the wall until I was sitting on the remarkably clean tiled floor, knees up to my chest. Someone else was getting sick at the other end of the bathroom. I leaned down and saw under the stalls that it was the two girls from the bar. The one I’d pressured was heaving and crying while her friend stood behind her. I sat back up and squeezed my eyes shut. After a few minutes they finished, leaving me alone in the restroom.

The room continued to spin, and as the image from that dark utility hall made an appearance, I closed my eyes and fought the urge to be sick again.

I heard a scuffle outside the bathroom, two people arguing, and then the door opened.

“Anna?” Oh, no. “Ann?” My heart compressed with pain at the sound of his voice.

“I’m fine, Kai.” My throat was raspy.

Footsteps echoed off the high ceilings until shiny black shoes showed under my stall door.

“You’re sick. Let me in.”

“No. I’m fine now.”

“Shall I send Marna, then?”

“No. I just want to be alone. Go away in case the spirits come back.”

There was a long pause and I prayed he would hurry and leave, because the emotions I’d kept at bay all night were surfacing. I knew that when they made it to the top I was going to have an ugly, slobbering cry that needed no witnesses.
Please don’t say another word....

“You did... well tonight.” The reluctant sentiment in his voice was like a hammer busting me wide open.

“Go,” I said thickly. “I want to be alone. Please just
go away
!”

There was a weird chanting sound coming from the people outside, and as I strained to listen, still unable to use my extra senses, I realized they were counting down. Cheers erupted and party horns trilled.

“Happy New Year.” His feet turned to leave, and the moment the door clicked shut behind him I dropped my head to my forearms and wept.

“Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall.”

—William Shakespeare,
Measure for Measure

CHAPTER THIRTY

S
OME BY
V
IRTUE
F
ALL

S
omeone knocked on my apartment door at six thirty the next morning. Six thirty! I shuffled down the hall, unable to stand straight. My stomach was still upset, and my head pounded as I spied my dad through the peephole. I opened the door and he walked right past me, heading for the kitchen.

“Help yourself,” I told him.

“Mornin’ to you, too, grumpy.” He poured himself a glass of tea and threw together a sandwich. I stared, bleary-eyed.

“You got sick last night.”

How could he tell? Did I smell bad? He took a bite, frowning at me.

“I forgot to drink water,” I mumbled.

“Or it could have been the Four Horsemen shot,” he suggested.

“How did you... ?” I began, then figured it out. “You were nearby the whole time!” He nodded. “Well, what was I supposed to do with that spirit breathing down my neck? He said he’d leave me alone if I gave him a show. I couldn’t exactly say no to the shot.”

“Don’t ever give a bartender free rein. Order only what you can handle.”

I sighed and dropped onto the couch, pressing my temples. It was way too early.

“We’ll talk about it on the plane. Get up and get ready. We’re going to New York City.”

Flying first class was nice. Too bad I couldn’t enjoy it. My gut was wrecked and my head was splitting. I chugged water and tried to eat a croissant.

The Dukes had called an emergency summit, and all Nephilim were required to attend. Neph from all over the world had left the night before to begin the trek. My friends were flying in on Pharzuph’s personal jet.

On the way to the airport I’d asked my dad why the Neph had to go. He said Neph were invited to summits only when one of them was in trouble. A strange sense of numbness had crept over me at that point. He’d sent a few of his trusted whisperers out to hunt down information, but all they learned was that a female Nephilim was not working up to par and would be dealt with as a reminder to all. We’d been silent the rest of the way to the airport, but my brain worked overtime.

It was too much of a coincidence that the Dukes would call an emergency meeting hours after I’d been tested. The unyielding tension on my dad’s face told me more than he was willing to say.

“Someone whistled last night,” my father said during the flight. The plane hummed with white noise from the engines. Nobody sat next to us.

“It was Kopano.”

“Did you tell him about that?” he asked.

I bit my lip and shook my head.

“So he listened in on your training.” He sucked air through his front teeth. “Ballsy.”

“You’re not mad?”

He lifted a shoulder and let it drop as if it made no difference. Then he raised the issue of the summit again, and my insides constricted.

“Sit as far away from the Dukes as you can tonight,” he instructed. “Neph don’t talk at summits. Don’t speak out, no matter what happens. If there’s a problem, I’ll take care of it. And don’t pull out that damn sword unless I tell you to. It’s our absolute last resort. Once that cat’s out of the bag there’s no going back.”

Together we’d rigged up a holster for the hilt around my ankle. He’d found a leather pouch to hold it so my bare skin wouldn’t be zapped. I was wearing black pants that flared enough at the bottom to hide it. He hadn’t thought metal detectors would be able to sense the celestial material, and he’d been right. I made it through airport security without notice.

The most terrifying thing about the summit was not knowing what to expect. I needed to prepare for the worst.

Ridicule. Torture. Pain. Death. Hell.

A tremor of terror racked me at the thought of eternal damnation. At the same time the plane hit a pocket of differing air pressure and the cabin dropped, shaking. I gripped the armrest. Not eternal, I told myself. It would be only temporary; I could make it. I closed my eyes in meditation. And then another horrific thought surfaced. What if Kaidan or Kopano tried to stop the Dukes from hurting me during the summit? They’d cause themselves to be subjected to punishment, too. The idea of anyone intervening was too much. A tear trickled out.

My father reached over and wiped it away before taking my hand. I kept my head back, eyes closed.

“It might not be about you,” he reassured me.
But it might.

From the small rounded window I could see the speck of another plane passing in the distance. We would be passing Patti somewhere in the sky that morning as she returned home. I closed my eyes and pictured her face, hearing her encourage me to be strong. I couldn’t think about how she would handle tonight’s news. My dad had said it was too dangerous to call, so I’d left her a letter. It was not a sufficient good-bye.

A bell chimed overhead and we looked at each other. Our initial descent into New York City had begun. We had no information and no plan.

“When we get there I’ll check you into a hotel. Stay in the room until it’s time to go. I’ll send someone to come get you.”

That night, as I stepped up from the NYC subway with my five Nephilim friends, we were swallowed up by a torrent of partygoers headed toward Times Square in the freezing cold. Everyone was bundled up in thick coats, gloves, scarves, and woolly hats. I’d never seen so many people.

If it was this crazy on New Year’s Day, I couldn’t imagine what it’d been like the night before, when the ball dropped. Since New Year’s Eve fell on a Friday this year, everyone was making a weekend of it.

I grabbed the fabric on the back of Marna’s coat so I wouldn’t lose her as I stared up at the massive billboards and flashing displays across buildings. I shoved my other frozen hand into my jacket pocket. Everything here was supersized: giant buildings, screens, stores, all crammed together into a barrage of images and sounds. There was no way to take it all in; you simply had to let it envelop you. Get lost in it.

I envied the cool expressions worn by the other Neph, as if nothing were amiss. Would I have been able to share in their confident swaggers if I’d been trained to reveal nothing under pressure? I concentrated on not allowing my forehead to furrow.

We were well hidden in the large, exuberant crowd. There was a mix of national and international faces, visitors who’d come from all over for the Big Apple holiday. Thousands of sheer guardian angels bobbed along with their charges. Everyone was talking and shouting their laughter. The general atmosphere was euphoric, and many auras were blurry from the influence of substances.

After walking fifteen minutes through the masses, we turned down a less busy street. It was still active, but we had more elbow room and the crowd was thinning out ahead. We were close, mere blocks away. Kaidan must have felt it, too, because he fell back next to me as he walked, continuing to look straight ahead. Being close to him made me feel better, and I reveled in the occasional brush of his arm against mine. Even through our coats I felt the electric pull between us.

A large group exited a club and filtered out, crowding the sidewalk. In a moment of boldness I caught Kaidan’s pinkie with mine, knowing nobody would be able to see. I felt his hand go stiff, and then we were suddenly moving to the side. He led me by the little finger, weaving between people until we ducked down a set of narrow stairs into a dark cellar doorway, hidden by shadows. Euphoria exploded inside me at our nearness.

His mouth found mine in the dark, fiery and rough. I gave a tiny whimper before melting into him and pulling his face down to mine even harder. In that kiss we spoke all of the things we couldn’t say. He kissed me with an urgency born of some strong, unstable emotion: fury. I tried to imagine the nature of that feeling. Was he angry because of how I made him feel? Angry that he was powerless to change tonight’s outcome? I didn’t know, but I welcomed it.

I needed this kiss. I needed this last moment of feeling alive. My body pushed against his, thanking him, memorizing him. His hands roamed roughly down my back and over my hips, yanking me even closer, tighter.

We were breathless when we broke the kiss and he rested his forehead on mine. My hands slid from the back of his neck to his face. I ran my thumbs across his eyebrows and over his cheekbones. He watched me in the dimmed light, searching me. Our heated breath turned to fog in the cold air. Then I stretched up to place a sweet, soft kiss on his lips. He closed his eyes and we lingered there with our lips barely touching.

If I could take all my earthly memories into the cold afterlife with me, this would be the one I’d replay to keep me warm and sane until the final day of judgment.

“Ahem!”

I jumped away from Kaidan at the sound of someone clearing her throat from the entrance of the stairwell.

Ginger stood there with both hands on her hips, a city goddess in her knee-high boots and sleek black coat. Marna stood at her side, nervously peering around. Ginger shook her head at us in exasperation. She stomped off in the direction we needed to go, with her sister close behind.

Kaidan gave me one last crushing stare and I saw him swallow. I wanted nothing more than to stay there with him, but we’d already pushed the limits of our luck. Staying near each other, we climbed the stairs and blended back into the crowd. Up ahead, Kopano turned his head enough to meet my eye. I felt Kaidan stiffen next to me, noting our interaction, but I couldn’t look away from Kope’s soulful, sad eyes. I stared back, at a loss, knowing he’d heard Kaidan and me take that dangerous moment for ourselves. He gave me a small nod of acknowledgment, and his gaze slid to the ground before he faced forward again.

We were almost there. One block to go. I had to scold my feet into moving forward. My body revolted against this entire thing, screaming,
Remind us again why we’re walking straight into certain death?
It was unnatural.

The streetlights above began to flicker. None of the humans seemed to notice. The lights flickered again.

“Legionnaires,” Kai whispered, signaling to the sky with an upward jut of his chin.

Hundreds of demon spirits swarmed the air above us, coming in from all directions and blotting out light like fast-moving gray clouds. The street was under attack as demons darted down at random, whispering in unsuspecting ears. The atmosphere on the street immediately changed, and I felt a painful rush of negative emotion rumble through the people.

A fight broke out between two men right in front of us. Kopano had to jump out of the way, and the rest of us swung wide to get around them, while other people were cramming in closer to get a better view. The volume of the crowd increased. Laughter became more raucous, and a woman behind us screamed. I couldn’t tell what had happened. Chaos was taking over. Spirits flipped above us, completely in their element, dive-bombing into the mass of people with evil glee.

“Ready for your first summit, little drinker?”
I flinched at the voice in my head and looked up at the grisly face of one of the whisperers from last night’s party. I kept walking.

Something flew through the air and landed right on Blake’s shoulder. Ginger gave an insulted scoff and swatted it off. We stepped over the offending black lace bra.

Blake half grinned and said, “Nice,” before we were jostled and forced to keep moving.

Up ahead we passed the shirtless lady, who was now arguing with a guy. He shoved a shirt at her, attempting to cover her, and she kept pushing it away, opting to throw her head back and spin around instead. The man glowered as onlookers cheered and catcalled.

Kaidan pulled a flask out of his back pocket and guzzled it down. A strong whiff of bourbon wafted over, making me queasy.

The twins veered to the side and stopped in front of a glass door that had been painted black. We were here. This was it. The small sign above the door said
sir laughs-a-lot
and showed a jolly knight. The Dukes had rented an underground comedy club to hold their summit. The irony of it made me despise them even more than I already did.

As Ginger reached for the door handle I battled a surge of terror. I couldn’t go in there. I took a step back, then another, my breath becoming shallower until I knew I was on the verge of a panic attack. I spun around, prepared to run, only to face a dapper, frowning gentleman in a fine gray suit. He had salt-and-pepper hair and a long, oval face. But his most compelling feature was the giant purple badge in the middle of his chest, like a pulsating, vile eggplant of pride. Rahab, the Duke of Pride.

I spun back around, trying to play it off like I’d not just been planning to run like heck. I stumbled forward a little in my attempt to walk with Mr. Evil Incarnate at my back. The other Neph were already inside. Kaidan stood holding the door open with an expressionless face, eyes averted downward.

“After you, Duke Rahab,” he said. I stepped out of the way and let Rahab pass me with a frigid breeze. Then my eyes met Kaidan’s and we stood there.

“Get in and close the damn door!” an Australian male voice hollered from inside. “You’re lettin’ in a draft.”

There was a tense second when I knew Kaidan thought I might run, and if I did, he would run with me. But I couldn’t do that to him. So I slipped inside and felt him enter the club behind me, closing the door.

I had to adjust my pupils in the dim entryway. The place was dingy and smelled like years of stale smoke and mildew hiding under drab old carpets, but it was warm. Walls were plastered with advertisements for comedians and shows, past and present. The thin hall was empty except for a host podium by the door. Everybody else had already gone in.

“Son of Pharzuph,” said a redheaded male Neph. He was short and lean, but had the body and stance of a fighter. His fiery red hair was buzzed so short it was barely fuzz. In his hand he wielded a metal-detecting wand.

Kaidan returned the greeting with a nod, saying, “Son of Mammon.” So this was the Duke of Greed’s son.

“Arms up, mate. You know the drill.” He spoke with a heavy Aussie accent. Kaidan lifted his arms and widened his feet. I got nervous when the wand passed his pockets, but it didn’t beep. It did beep when it got to his shoes, though.