The Devil You Know (10 page)

No one but the boy.

Now LaFortuna’s page had fallen ill with the same wasting-away disease as many of the other villagers. With the page comatose, there was no longer a guard at the alchemist’s doors. The boy had spent two nights watching the pale-haired man mutter as he pored over books and brewed things with horribly foul smells that carried even through the door. But tonight would be different. The boy knew it. During dinner, there had been an eager anticipation in LaFortuna’s black eyes.

As the man moved to the large black stone that covered the far wall and drew a sharp knife, the boy couldn’t help but share his anticipation. But it turned to dread as the tall man cut his hand and smeared his blood on the stone. It was all the boy could do not to scream when the stone turned strangely liquid-like and a dark furry thing too ugly and twisted to describe stepped from the stone. When the alchemist bared long, sharp fangs and turned on the creature, killing it quickly before drinking its blood and feasting on its flesh, the boy’s scream died in his throat. Unable to look away, he watched helplessly as the half-eaten creature continued to re-form and be eaten again and again until it was merely bones connected by an occasional string of gristly tissue. After a time, the creature’s bloody husk shuddered and stopped re-forming.

When LaFortuna made the stone liquid again and threw the remains back through then made the crimson stains on the stone floor disappear as if by magick, the boy backed away slowly. But he must have made some noise—a whimper, a rustle of cloth, a skittered pebble? Whatever the case, the alchemist heard. Shocked, confused, disbelieving, the boy’s mind was blissfully blank when the monster that was this land’s Master opened the door.

“It appears I have a volunteer for a new page.” LaFortuna smiled, flashing long, bloody fangs, and gestured for the boy to enter. Mutely, the boy did so, unwittingly choosing the slower, more painful of deaths.

Hours later, after being whipped for spying, receiving an introduction into the dark tasks he would have to perform for his new Master, and swearing a painful oath of silence upon his mother’s soul, the boy was released to find his own rest. He found his sleeping mother and sat in her dark room, hand pressed to the now closed but still painful bite on his upper elbow—the one hiding under his sleeve. Too busy trying to find a way to negate his oath, he didn’t feel the tears running down his numb cheeks.

And should he manage to do something so impossible and find a way to tell? Then he was left with the even more difficult task of explaining to his mother that Master LaFortuna, the man she had decided would be a good father for him, was not a man anymore…if he had ever been.

Chapter Six

“In the beginning, there were seven houses and unto each house was born a daughter. And each was given in offering…”

—Translated from
The Shadow Days: The History of the Otherworld

Three heads bent close, conferring around the kitchen table as they sipped their tea. The slap of a leather-bound book hitting the old rune-carved tabletop caused all three to turn in my direction. This was quickly followed by several audible intakes of breath. One from Nana when she saw my bandaged head and the bruises running down my face and neck. One from Aunt Helena as she recognized the book, which lay open to a page with a large black-skinned winged demon. The last from a startled Brittan as she spilled hot tea over her hands.

Bare ankles and arms crossed, I leaned against the doorjamb and casually said, “I had a date last night, or rather, night before last.” My sense of time was still a bit off.

Brit was the first to recover. The blond eyed my head. “Must have ended in a bang.”

I suppressed a snort. “Let’s just say it was interesting.” Keeping my voice gentle, I turned to the younger woman and smiled. “Brit, do you mind letting me speak alone with my aunt and grandmother?” I didn’t want to air our dirty laundry in public. The day would come when we could no longer keep these secrets from unwelcome eyes. But that day wasn’t today, and I wanted everyone on the same page before it crashed in the front door. Again.

“No problem.” Brittan stood slowly, giving me a reassuring smile. With a slight limp and her shoulders slumped, she walked through the kitchen door to the back gardens. When we’d first met, even bruised and bloodied, Brittan had stood proud and defiant. This woman seemed nothing like the cocky fighter who had only two days ago beaten me at swordplay. The disparity was concerning.

Once I was sure Brittan was out of earshot, I nodded toward the back door. “How is she?”

“Physically, she’s on the mend,” Nana said softly. “Magically, she has all the potential her bloodline allows for…and then some.” At my cocked head, Nana explained, “Her great-grandmother’s mother was a Valere.”

That explained it. I’d been more than a little surprised after Sunday night’s battle to have my guardian powers recognize Brittan as a kindred spirit. Whatever the gate had done to her, it had made her one of us. She would now bear the name of Valere, one of the seven guardian houses. One thought to be forever lost, their blood too diluted to allow their offspring the ability to activate and merge with the gates. Brittan Elise Wessan Valere was a guardian. The first made in…millennia? Eons? I wasn’t sure. It was some time longer than anyone knew. Longer than anyone had recorded history. If last week had been a week for the impossible, this week looked to be one for the miraculous.

Nana continued, “But emotionally, she’s hurting.” My grandmother’s eyes grew hazy. Was she having a vision? I suspected so, especially as her monotone voice dully recited, “Perhaps time will heal what magic and tender care cannot. Or perhaps the pain will grow and grow until our young friend is forced to take action and resolve it herself—or risk being consumed by it.”

Her faded-green gaze snapped to me, tone sharpening, “But you would know all about taking action, Catherine Eleanor Delacy.”

I winced. She’d pulled out the middle name. That didn’t bode well.

“What was it that you wanted, or rather
needed,
to say that you would so rudely throw a book across the room to gain our attention?” Nana gazed at the opened tome’s demon-filled page. “One of Helena’s, no less?” She arched a gray brow and sipped her tea, her stern visage stating she would brook no silver-tongued, sugar-coated naysays.

I sighed, uncrossed my arms, and moved to pour myself a cup from the steaming pot before taking the chair opposite them, my back uncomfortably facing the kitchen door. I sat straight, looking each woman in turn in the face, breathing in the soothing aroma of fresh green tea. Taking a deep breath, I plunged in.

“I
want
what I’ve always wanted. What you no doubt also want for me. To live in peace. To fill the rafters of this old house with people I love, who love me.”

Both women eyed me strangely, unfamiliar with my rant. I understood the sentiment. Acknowledging my desires was new to us all.

There were more words swirling in my head, but I added only, “I haven’t figured out what I
need
just yet. But barring getting that other good stuff, I’ll settle for the truth.” I reached out and tapped the book’s dusty leather-bound page. “At least for now.” I leaned back in my chair, confidence returning. “In return, I’ll share something that even your far-reaching sight—” I looked at my grandmother “—and your empathic abilities—” I turned to my aunt, whose lovely face wore something between a scowl and a surprised grimace, “—might not have seen.”

There was a moment of silence broken only by birds chirping in the garden. Then Aunt Helena softly said, “The future’s a tricky thing.” She flipped the book’s pages, moving unerringly to the one I had so recently reread on the early emergence of a demon child’s powers. “For that matter, so are the present and the past.” My aunt met my eyes, her jade gaze sad. “What we think we know is not always how things were. And how things were is not always how they should have been.” She turned the book so I could see a further, as yet unnoticed page, the woodcut print of a snarling child being burned at the stake vividly clear. Like so much of the book, the words next to the picture were in a language I didn’t recognize. “But we work with what the Fates give us.”

I stared at the picture, its black and white lines quickly blurring as my anger grew. There was more to this than the obvious. I understood why they had done it. Or at least, I
thought
I understood. Now, I wasn’t so sure. The meaning behind the picture was clear, but Aunt Helena’s words were not. Still, I knew one thing: This wasn’t the Dark Ages or even the fearful pre-Genesis period. A new world was coming…and I’d be damned if it was going to get here by being dumped on my head.

I raised my chin, locking angry blue eyes with jade. Trying hard to restrain myself, I nearly hissed, “What exactly did the Fates give you, Aunt Helena? Or rather, what did they give my mother…besides a half-demon child with a Prince for a father and one badass of a Demon Queen for a grandmother? A child with power you couldn’t handle so you magically neutered it?”

“Langu—” Nana’s sharp reprimand was swiftly strangled as my words registered. Her face flushed, her grip on the fragile teacup just shy of shattering the porcelain.

Reaching across the table, I rescued the cup from her suddenly weak grasp and set it down before clasping her cold hands in my own, sharing my warmth. I looked to Aunt Helena, wondering if I needed to do the same for her.

But my aunt didn’t look at all surprised. “I was going to ask where you found this,” she said, closing the book with a snap. Dust flew up, swirling in the sunshine pouring through the windows. “But I think we have more pressing questions, not the least of which is what happened Monday night.” Aunt Helena gave me a version of my own smile, tilting her head. My stomach sank. Tit-for-tat sucked when one was about to be on the receiving end. “Or who it is that you have fallen in love with?” She tapped her chin. “Although, I believe I know that one.”

Confused, Nana looked from us to the doorway. “I leave for a few months and all damnation breaks loose.”

I choked back a laugh.
She had no idea.

“Perhaps you could explain what these girls are talking about?” Nana asked. “There’s not much your cat eyes miss.”

Dropping Nana’s hands, I leaned back, catching my knees on the table to prevent a topple. I craned my head back, watching my upside-down brunette business partner enter.

“Not everything is mine to say,” Mynx said. “But in answer to the first, I left Cate the book.” She wore smartly-pressed, chocolate-trousers and a vibrant green sleeveless dress shirt that matched her eyes. No doubt, she was on her way to an appointment with a potential client. Mynx strode across the tiled floor with quiet steps. “I’d promised not to tell. There was no ban on showing.” She flashed me a smile. “Though I expected you to figure it out years ago.” Moving to the stove, she poured herself a mug of tea, and I let my chair legs hit the floor with a thump, facing my family again.

Nana cleared her throat. “Love?” She smiled, and I gave her a sheepish grin, nodding.

“Uh-huh.” Mynx pulled a chair out and sat by my side. “She’s got it bad.”

I blushed, not caring to deny it. Strangely enough, my grin just widened. “Detective Slone…Jacq.” Seeing Nana’s eyes widen, I rushed on. “I know, I must be crazy.” I ran my hand through the tangled curls I hadn’t bothered to braid after my nap. “She’s immortal.”

“And a woman,” Mynx supplied.

“You’re supposed to be helping,” I hissed, scowling at her. Mynx sipped her tea and smiled. I sighed again, wishing Jacq were close enough to feel her through our bond, but it didn’t reach to The Burg…or wherever she was. “Yes, a woman, a remarkable one.” I turned to my grandmother. “I certainly wasn’t looking for it. I don’t know what will come of it…what
could
come of it, considering the league of differences between us. But I promised her I would give it a chance. I hope you won’t fight me on this.”

Surprisingly, Aunt Helena said, “I’ll give you my blessing.” She took a sip of her tea, giving me a speculative look. “Assuming she wasn’t the one to turn your pretty face into that mess of yellow and green bruises.” The steel in her voice tamped down my lingering anger. My family’s love and desire to protect me resonated with every word.

I absently felt my temple, letting my fingers trail down my cheek and neck, following the bruises she referred to. It was fortunate she couldn’t see the mottled mess that covered me from my collarbone to knees.

“No, this was a demon limo driver’s doing.” I spoke without thinking, my mind still on Jacq. “Though, I suppose the rogue demons that attacked us, my own demon beast, and the trap set by my new demon granny, Kathryn, are also to blame. Kathryn and her nephew, Vanguard, want something from me. Hopefully tonight when they come for dinner we’ll find out what that something is.” I looked up in concern as Nana shoved her chair back. Its feet scraped loudly against the brown tile.

Nana stood quickly, moving to a cabinet we rarely used, pulled out a bottle of brandy, and set it down on the table with a soft thunk. The seal crinkled as she tore it loose, opening the bottle with a crack before pouring us each nearly two fingers.

She put a small, amber-filled glass in front of me. “You’re right about one thing, child.” She patted my hand before sitting. “I didn’t see this coming.” She raised the liquor to her lips and took a surprisingly deep draught. “I suggest you start at the beginning.”

I took a sip of my own drink, felt its slow burn slide down my throat, and began my story. “The beginning…” I looked into my cup before eyeing the three women. “You would know better where that truly is, but here’s what I know.” I took a deep breath. “Three years ago, I cast a spell and it broke more than Luke’s heart—it broke me.”

On the day of my wedding to Luke, I’d cast a gray spell in an attempt to find my missing mother. I’d sacrificed my own pain and blood for a vision. But things had gone wrong. Something within me—what I now recognized as the restraints my family had put on my demon-half—had cracked. I’d been knocked into a coma where I’d received foggy glimpses of the future. When I awoke I remembered enough to know Luke and I weren’t meant to be.