The Devil You Know (32 page)

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Authors: Marie Castle

BOOK: The Devil You Know
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I left the wardrobe open, sat in the small sofa chair near the window, and tucked my legs under me.

Illuminare.

Words of fire lit the page, providing all the light I needed. No longer tired, I began on page one and read until dawn lit the room, finding myself nowhere near finished with a book that only lengthened with each page turned and each fiery word called forth. When I heard my family rise, I doused the spell, hid the book again, and slid into bed behind Jacq.

The picture on the very first page—the one of a long-dead Demon Queen, one of seven who had given their firstborn daughters in offering to the gate—was all I could see behind my closed lids. She had given a daughter… They had given daughters…who had been changed by the living stone, becoming something that could survive, no, thrive, on this side of the void.
Becoming the women that would one day form the seven guardian houses.

We, the guardians, had once been—in some ways still were—the thing from which we tried so hard to protect the rest of the world. Self-righteous. Sanctimonious. There was a much shorter S-word that fit the information I had just received but my mind was spinning too quickly to think of it.

One arm wrapped around Jacq, through her shirt I felt the magical feathers covering her hot skin brush my palms. I slid my hand under her shirt and stroked her back, moving my fingers down the bird’s flaming neck. The feathers bunched then settled. I kept stroking, my movements slowing as they lulled me to sleep.

There was a phoenix in my bed, an incognito hellhound on my floor, and, deep within my blood, the essence of an ancient Demon Queen waiting to be awakened.

Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore. In fact, I’m not sure we’re even on the same planet. You better check the map. ’Cause this looks a lot like Hell to me.

* * *

The sun would soon rise, but the vampire perched on the same limb he had occupied after following Cate and the silver-skinned woman to the edge of the woods. He swung his legs loosely back and forth, thinking of what he had seen and heard. From this height, he could see the witch sitting near her window, alternately reading and looking out the glass portal. She couldn’t see him, but it almost felt as if she could.

Was his funny Catie, his favorite witchy friend, confused, too? He thought so, because her eyes would stray from the window to the book and finally to the bed that he couldn’t see but knew was there. He hadn’t realized their closeness until tonight but knew now the silver-skinned woman had to be the one sleeping close by. The one drawing little Catie’s eye. The one confusing them both.

He wasn’t sure what the silver-skinned woman was, but he’d heard stories from his old Master, the dark alchemist LaFortuna, of a creature that once walked with demons. He didn’t like to think of those stories, of that cruel time before his Mistress…his wonderful, strong Mistress. But for her he had tried. And he had remembered enough to make the silver-skinned woman his new target.

The silver people had once shared power and life with those among whom they had walked. Power was good. But it was life that would make his Mistress, his Lucine, truly happy. And he
wanted
to make her happy. The voice came again, giving instructions, cooing how pleased she would be if he would do this for her. His chest swelled. He dropped from the limb, plummeting downward with quick glee before catching himself just shy of the ground and zooming back into the sky, heading north.

He set his sight on The Burg, his eyes already twinkling with laughter and cold intent.

He’d seen the silver one fight. She had killed the demons and ruined his careful plan to destroy the Demon Queen as his Mistress had requested. He pouted. The silver-skinned woman didn’t fight fair.
But she had a weakness.
And he had a very good idea where that weakness would be tomorrow night.

The silver-skinned warrior wasn’t the only one who didn’t play fair. In his head, the voice of his Mistress as she had been when they had first met, before she had grown up and he had been turned, giggled.

Hide-and-seek had always been her favorite game.

Chapter Eighteen

“Bippity Bop. Bippity Boo. You need a new

do. In fact, wizard boy, you need a whole new you. Let’s start with cracking the broom and torching the black hat. Velvet robes might have gotten Merlin laid, but I promise you a modern woman will get the wrong impression if you show up in a dress.”
—Brought to you by
Queer Eye for the Flyin’ Guy
and SuperHGTV

Day Thirteen

After two hours of sleep, I crawled out of bed, slipped on a pair of jeans, and left Jacq resting soundly while I went downstairs. I’d had a bad dream and felt unsettled. All I remembered was darkness, water and pain. Lots of pain. Foreboding dreams were the norm these days, which didn’t make me feel any better.

Wrin had followed me out of the room. Her presence at my side was strangely reassuring. Too bad it didn’t save me from stepping on the mushy hairballs our malicious cat, Hexamina, had left outside my door. Jacq’s silver threshold wards kept Hex from entering my room, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t torture me beyond it. The urge to hunt down and strangle the cat was great. I resisted…but just barely.

I hopped on one foot to the guest bathroom, cursing the gooey mess stuck between my toes. Wrin shook her head, the disgust on her doggie face matching my own as I washed my foot and marched back to my door to clean up the mess.

I really needed to learn to wear shoes.

Hex’s antics and my lack of footwear were excellent distractions, but once the cleanup was done, my thoughts turned back to that foreboding dream. There was a knot growing in my gut. Something had changed. Something big. Something about tonight. I didn’t know what that something was, but I knew I was going to find out.

As I went down the stairs, I said to Wrin quietly, “So, I highly doubt a hellhound such as yourself has been randomly wandering around in my woods for a week,
accidentally
assisting me with the fight against Nicodemus, and saving my girlfriend’s bacon more than once. Who do you work for?” Whoever it was, they were clearly a friend.

I stopped midway down the stairs and looked at the hound. Her eyes briefly flared red. The picture of a bird was projected into my mind. I studied the picture carefully. Surely she didn’t work for a bird. Then it dawned on me.


Falcon.
You work for my father?”

Wrin simply huffed and continued down the stairs. Either she wasn’t much for conversation or found the question too redundant to answer—I was leaning toward both. No matter the cause, it was curious as well as strangely reassuring that my father, a demon I’d never met, had sent her to watch after me, for there was no doubt she had been doing that from the very beginning. Now the question was, could I use Wrin to communicate with him? Did I want to? I would have to think about that.

I found Nana in the kitchen, having tea and reading the paper. With a loud crinkling sound, she folded the paper and looked at Wrin padding silently at my heels.

“Who is that?” Nana asked. “I won’t say
what
as its magic is clearly demonic.”

“This is Wrin. She’s a hellhound, sort of. Wrin, meet my Nana.”

Wrin wagged her bobbed tail and nodded her cute, curly-haired head. Her muzzle stretched wide with an amused, sharp-toothed grin.

Nana arched a brow, returning the nod. “It’s a pleasure.” Her lips twitched, caught between a frown and a laugh. She raised her paper.

I pulled a package of meat out of the fridge, placed it in a bowl, and warmed it in the microwave. Wrin sniffed disdainfully at the food, but she scarfed it down and dashed out Hex’s cat door before I could offer her some water.

“Don’t eat the cat!” I yelled after Wrin.

An answering bark that might have been doggie laughter came through the door.

“Where is everyone?” I asked, pouring myself a cup of tea and arranging the ingredients for fried eggs and blueberry pecan pancakes.

I could see Brittan through the kitchen window, sitting with eyes closed on the gray and black stone practice pad. I tensed then smiled when Wrin approached the young blond and climbed into her lap. Brittan broke from her meditation with a start, but the strained lines around her mouth eased as she began to pet and play with Wrin.

Nana looked up from her paper and smiled when she saw what I was looking at. “Helena is resting. She hasn’t been sleeping well.”

I turned from the eggs I was cracking to study my grandmother’s carefully calm face. “Something we should be concerned about?”

Nana’s green eyes faded as they often did when she remembered a vision. “No, the problem will resolve itself soon. As to the others…The young tiger, Betz, has gone to Grey regarding transferring Romulus to the Were medical facility.” Grey Gryphon was the local Were Tiger Alpha and ultimately responsible for the weretigers in his territory. With Rom’s sister still gone, Grey must be the one to transfer the comatose Rom to the hospital.

Nana continued, “Gemini is at the Wellsy homestead with Cassie and her boys. They’ll join us for breakfast soon.”

I nodded, thinking of the three. Gem was a Russian damphyre. Cassie the Witch Prime’s great-niece, and Alex and Carlin Wellsy the orphaned grandchildren of our neighbor Arno Wellsy—a man who’d openly despised Cassie’s great-aunt for reasons I’d never been told. It was an odd grouping, but it seemed right. Shared grief often turned strangers into family and family into strangers.

Nana said, “I invited your new secretary, JJ, to breakfast since she wouldn’t have had time to unpack. She’ll be here in an hour or so. Everyone else is about but will wander in to eat shortly. You might want to make more food.”

I looked at the giant platter of eggs, small mountain of pancakes, and large bowl of sliced fruit I’d already prepared and pulled more ingredients from the fridge. Seeing Nana discreetly eyeing the pancakes, I slid a plate of food her way then refilled her teacup before turning back to flip more pancakes.

“Thank you,” I said. “I should have thought of inviting JJ.”

“You’re welcome, but the invitation was more than courtesy.”

That got my attention. “What do you know of JJ?”

Nana cocked her head. “No more than I’ve seen. But there is something familiar about her. Time will tell. It always does.”

Knowing Nana, she had “seen” a great deal, but I didn’t call her on it. Like my mother and my Grams before her, Nana doled out what she gleaned from her visions with a cautious hand.

I worked for several minutes. When I had a few moments where I could leave the food to cook unattended, I stepped to Nana’s side and placed my hand on her shoulder. There was something I needed to say, and I’d put it off long enough.

“Thank you.” My words were quiet.

The paper rustled as Nana looked up. “For what?”

“For not letting me die as a child. For breaking all the rules to ensure I could grow up in this world with my mother and family, despite knowing it meant stripping me of my guardian as well as demon powers. For forgiving me for my unjustified accusations.”

My mother’s book had been clear. Demons couldn’t live indefinitely on this side of the gates. They needed regular infusions of the sort of heat only found in Hell to maintain their life force. Demon children couldn’t live long here. And guardians couldn’t survive in Hell for different but no less deadly reasons. My family had bound my powers, had bound my demon-half, to keep me alive. I didn’t understand and couldn’t forgive their vow of silence regarding this, but at least their motives were just. Whether or not my adult self could live on this side of the gates when my demon-half was free was unknown. My guardian-half might protect me from the eventual wasting away demons faced here. Then again, it might not.

Her eyes solemn, Nana sighed and laid her hand over mine. “Cate, please don’t thank me. I know you suffered, are still suffering because of our decision. I’ve thought countless times over the years that there must have been another way, though I’ve yet to think of one. We did what we had to do, what we thought was best at the time.” She shook her head. “But don’t thank us.”

I nodded and turned back to the stove, tears shimmering in my eyes.

After several minutes, Nana cleared her throat and said in a more neutral tone, “Regarding our guests. Of all the people I named who are here, one I cannot sense. The good Detective Slone is unaccounted for. I assume you know where she is.”

I turned and met my grandmother’s eyes. My flushed neck was confirmation enough.

Nana’s pancake-filled fork paused halfway to her mouth. “Cate, are you certain you know what you’re doing?” Her words were slow, but the fear in her eyes was sharp.

Shoulders set, I said confidently, “I’ve never been this certain about anything in my entire life.”

“Be careful nonetheless, my child. Your magic when you’re together…I can feel it changing, growing violently fast. I worry for you.”

I’d locked my magic away tightly after last night’s magical explosion in the woods. But apparently not tightly enough. Jacq had only touched the surface when she said we were bringing each other’s powers to their full strength. I thought of what I had read in my mother’s book. Of what I had known deep down all along. Of how Jacq’s presence in my life and mine in hers would affect us both in wonderful and dangerous ways.

“Nana, of the two of us, it’s not me you should be worried for.”

“We never stop worrying for our children,” Kathryn said from the doorway, a bleary-eyed Van behind her. “Even those who are no longer with us. It is the nature of life.”

Her eyes held such tragic loss—my response was stopped by the lump in my throat. I nodded and cleared my throat. “Would you like some tea?” At her nod, I poured her a cup. “Breakfast?”

Kathryn shook her head, took a seat next to Nana, and picked up the discarded sports section, frowning at the advert for leprechaun mud-bogging. Van didn’t seem to hear the question. He wobbled and weaved to the table, slumping into a chair. His hair was mussed, his bloodshot eyes dull and unaware, his feet bare, and his face scruffy. I put a large glass of cold water in front of him with a thunk. He flinched at the noise.

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