The One We Feed (23 page)

I shot the
entire VIP crowd a defiant stare and had begun my stomp down the stairs, when
Devlin’s genteel voice carried above the volume of the music.

“It
is
a pity.”

I stopped and
turned to him, irate. “What is?”

He chuckled,
and it was the most disingenuous display of emotion I had ever seen. “Well, you
destroyed the Vihara, all its treasures inside.” He made a heavy sigh, “Including
the legendary Ananda. It is a pity, as I would so have loved to make his
acquaintance. But I suppose we will never know what has happened to him.”

I was so
filled with that overwhelming fury that I could do nothing but stand and
breathe heavily. Beside me, Jinx was shrinking away. I knew my eyes had gone
red, and, in the back of my mind, hoped Devlin saw it too. My hand gripped the
rail tightly, leaving a hand-shaped dent behind as it twisted in my grip like
warm dough.

“I would never,
ever
bring him to a place like this! It would offend everything that he
is!”

For the first
time, the grin on Devlin’s face was genuine. It appeared out of the ashes of
the other smile, flourished, and then, unchecked, was concealed behind the
glass of blood.

“If he is who
they say he is, nothing could offend him, but why don’t you let me worry about
that and stop building fences around enlightenment. All things have a price. Everyone
faces the worst of themselves sometime.”

I looked at
Jinx. He looked at me. I wanted to ask him if there was any other way, if it
would be possible to stop Devlin without a partnership. From the look in his
eyes, I knew that the answer was no, at least not short of killing him.

Fed up, I
stormed back up the stairs and knocked the glass out of his hand as I had done
to Karl. It spattered the audience below, who thought it was a perk of the
Bacchanalian celebration and began to hoot and holler. His hand still curved
around its vacancy, Devlin stared at his empty fingers through mere slits.

“The greatest
trick the devil ever pulled was
not
convincing people he didn’t exist,”
I hissed in his ear. “It was convincing them that he
did.
You don’t fool
me one bit. You’re just a bully, and I will not be bullied.”

He said
nothing. It was as if he was ignoring me, as if I had offended him too deeply
to deserve a response. His hand rested on the banister. His breathing was even.

Step back,
I thought. But
it took a great deal of careful concentration to stop myself from hitting him,
if only for what he’d helped Mara to do.

“I’ll tell
Ananda what you are, what this is. In great detail. If he wants to come and...make
your acquaintance, then he will, but I’m not like you. He owes me nothing, he
asks nothing, and so I will do the same. That’s friendship, something you will
never know.”

“My life is
so
much duller for it,” he replied quietly. Behind him, the other vampires snickered.
I shot them a glare.

“If that’s how
you’re going to treat him, then I won’t let him come.”

The corner of
his mouth upturned. “You cannot stop him. If he is who they say he is, he is as
curious about me as I am him.”

I frowned at
him and for a moment shrank back. What did he mean? Whatever it was, I was
almost certain I wasn’t going to get the answer from Devlin.

“Now who’s
being self-absorbed?”

He stood up to
his full height and turned to face me. “Don’t come back until I have a reason
to admit you. You have been the worst of guests, and I am an intolerant host. And
if you attempt to consult anyone else for help, I will make certain that your
blood won’t purchase a tuna sandwich.”

Nose to nose
with him, I refused to back down. I stared into his eyes with unpolluted
contempt until I felt Jinx’s hand tug at my wrist.

“Come on, Lily.”
After repeated himself several times, I relented and made my way down the
stairs. At the base, I turned and met Devlin’s parting stare.

“You should
know,” I shouted, “if you want to impress him, he takes hot water with a slice
of lemon and most definitely will
not
drink the punch.”

Without a
backward glance, I wove through the dancers, trying to ignore their exposed
limbs that would be so easy to break, their annoying expressions of lascivious
ardor. I did not stop moving until I was safely in the tunnel toward the
surface, where it I could decompress without hurting anyone. I scowled in the
direction of a group of eager S&M fans on their way to the club and, after
they had passed, punched a crumbling indentation in the concrete wall.

The people in
the club wanted to be there. They consented to whatever hell they endured, and
whatever they consented to was a product of their own flaws. But Reesa and her
kinsmen were alone and hopeless. I could only see their faces, their torment,
the box of rotting tongues. Devlin’s games, in parallel with those images, were
trivial and stupid.

The dust
speckled me and fell to the shadowy floor. Jinx looked from it to my lowered
face, stunned.

“Um...what
part of ‘let me do the talking’…?” When my gaze sharpened and drove a spike
through his brain, he cowered. “All right, all right! I never liked tuna
sandwiches anyway!”

Chapter
17

Ontology
Recapitulates Phylogeny

Parked outside the Circle, the
following evening, I began to have second thoughts. Ananda had consented to
come along, but with every bizarre creature that went through the gate, the
less certain I became.

“Did we have
to come at night?”

Jinx popped an
Adderall. “When you make your living off the inequities men hide from light of
day, you do business when the market is open.”

But my inner
strategist was screaming that we would be fools to walk the most docile human
in history into a pit of monsters by the wan light of a moon. It was just
utterly indefensible.

“You don’t
have to do this. I can make him cooperate, Ananda. We have no idea what he
wants with you.”

The Arhat
smiled and bowed his head. “He wants what all men like him want.”

“And what is
that?” Jinx scoffed. “Power?”

“Peace and
security.”

It sounded
nice, but it was the last thing I thought he’d say. I looked back at the gate
and its fortifications. “How do you know that?”

“I have seen
this many times.”

My head wheeled
around. Jinx and I shared a glance.

“Mind telling
us how it ends?” he grumbled.

Ananda
shrugged. “I cannot see past it.”

“And you don’t
find that the least bit disheartening?”

“If it were
the worst possible outcome, if it purchases Reesa’s freedom, it is worth it.”

I scowled down
at my hands and made an accounting of my skill set. There was no way in hell
I’d allow the worst possible outcome. If Devlin so much as blinked funny, an
act of god the likes of which he could not imagine would fall right down on his
head, along with the ceiling of the cavern.

With one final
assurance from Ananda, we got out of the car and cut in front of Ulrich’s
current guest.

Ananda waved a
hand across the window solemnly. “These are not the droids you’re looking for.”

Jinx
snickered. “Thanks, Ulrich, and by the way, you’re looking less forlorn than
usual.”

A meathook
pressed the button as if punching us. “I haf only sree hundred more nights to
serve. Less zan a year, and I can go back to studying the shadows.”

“There’s looking
at the bright side,” I muttered as we slid through the gate.

We walked down
the stairs, our shadows skittering around the concrete walls in the wavering
light of dirty lanterns. At the door, the guard took one look at Ananda and
nearly lost his mind with regret that he would not see what was about to
happen. With a heavy sigh, he opened the door, and I walked through, but when I
turned back to make sure Ananda was still on my heels, the Arhat had vanished.

I elbowed
Jinx, explaining the situation with a jerk of my head.

“We can’t get
in if we don’t have him.”

“Don’t worry,”
I said with something of a relieved giggle, “I think he’s about to make a
strategic move.”

“Oh, fuck,”
Jinx groaned. He turned to the secretary and smiled into the stretching silence.

“Devlin gave
specific instructions,” she said.

“Yeah.”

“If I break
the rules, I’ll get worse than desk duty, and there is no color darker than
black.”

I grinned.
Beside us, a group of exotic, tattooed beauties that looked as if they might
have been gypsies in a past life were waiting patiently for their admittance to
whatever quadrant of the Circle flew their individual kites. Without warning,
they rose as a group and, glassy-eyed, meandered to the exit. Soon after, a
shirtless man in leather hot pants got up from his seat and, trailing his
leash, left.

One by one,
while we tapped our toes, the people in the waiting area found that they had
other, more important things to do. The absurdity of it became too great, and
tired of making herself dizzy by casting her eyes right and left, the
receptionist stood up and leaned over the counter.

“But…you’ve
already paid!”

Then suddenly,
she too looked as if she had taken an overdose of Prozac and stepped from
behind the desk with her skirts swishing. When the door was shut firmly behind
her, I picked up two passes to the club area. Tonight they were laminated cards
on a string, depicting the image of a white snake twined around a pitchfork. I
put it around my neck where it almost vengefully chafed my talisman of Eva’s
journals.

Muttering
obscenities to himself, Jinx followed me down the hall. “He’s going to get us
in so much trouble.”

“Don’t be such
a baby, you twerp.”

He shot me a
withering look and tugged the cord around his neck. “You don’t know Devlin like
I do.”

“Well, so far,
I’m not impressed.”

Jinx halted.
“You have no idea who he is, do you?”

“Will I be
impressed?”

But Jinx bit
his tongue-ring. “You better hope he doesn’t have any long wooden poles handy.”

With a shrug,
I followed him into the moving tempest that was the dance. Around us, people
were twirling, stomping, waving, and gyrating, and as before, the platforms
were filled with people doing their own, unique versions of body shots.

I shuddered
and dropped my eyes to my ninja shoes until we reached the stairs. At the top,
taking stock of his kingdom, stood Darth Tacticus himself. He was wearing a
dark green velvet blazer over his black clothing, and his hair was more tousled
than before. He looked handsome, in an entirely unapproachable, vulture-like way.
His narrowed, reptilian eyes were following me. Just for good measure, I
smiled.

Jinx took his
seat again, and to my surprise there was a Redbull waiting beside an old
porcelain tea set, complete with a plate of sliced lemon. It was just a set of
dishes, but in it I saw the perfect opportunity to get Devlin back for being
such a prick.

“Isn’t that
sweet? It’s too bad you didn’t make tonight Modesty Night!”

Devlin’s eyes
narrowed until I could no longer see the sclera. Tiny muscles beneath his skin
tightened, gripped his jaw and pulled it closed against whatever vile thing he
wanted to spit at me. The fixed gaze began to make my skin crawl as my
confidence was jarred off her pedestal.

I looked away.
A few patrons cut through the dancers as if they were escaping in slow motion.
While I watched, several others, once caught up in the frenzy, lost interest.
One by one, Ananda was vacating the room.

My confidence
returned.

“I hate to
sound stupid, but I don’t get it. All this etiquette is out of place, isn’t it?
You don’t really give a shit about anyone, do you? I mean if your goal is to be
evil, go all the way.”

Instead of
smashing my head into something like Karl would have, he let go and folded his
hands.

“You have a
delightful disregard about you that is almost tolerable, Lilith.”

“From you
that’s probably an insult, but I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“I never
insult things I despise. I do away with them. Keep this in mind when you glare
at me so.”

I wasn’t sure
what to think, but recent events in my life had taught me not to allow my smart
mouth to interfere with the action of my brain. Nothing I had experienced in
the last few years made any sense, and it was stupid of me to continue
confronting these things in the same old ways. I looked over my shoulder at the
tea set.

The greatest
trick….

I had said I
wouldn’t play this high school game, but maybe I was, by my very nature. Maybe
I couldn’t help but
need
a bully to combat. But if Devlin wasn’t the
Devil, then maybe I needed to reexamine how I did things.

“I concede the
point. My thinking is biased, and you put on a good show, but twice, you’ve
allowed us to enter.”

“And twice,
you have insulted me,” he said, in an almost inaudible voice.

“I apologize,”
I replied, though it turned my stomach. “I do need your help, and this is no
way to begin a partnership. So….” As if Ananda had heard me, the music
clattered to an immediate halt and the DJ sauntered away.

Behind Devlin,
one of the bouncers was scowling. He touched his ear and, with a swallow,
stepped into the line of his master’s glare.

“Devlin,
Ulrich wants to know if we’re closing for the night. He says everyone is
leaving.”

I smiled at
the flicker of confusion I saw on Devlin’s face. His eyes darted from point to
point in a kind of wonder, then without any warning, he dismissed the entire
lot of them.

“Out. Now. Go
topside and make sure nothing happens.”

Bemused,
reclining vamps unfolded themselves from cushions. They slinked past me down
the stairs with sideways glances that were both insulted and interested. The
shutting of the door echoed into the vacant cavern. Devlin had stopped looking
around and had again settled his eyes upon me.

“Well, now,”
he murmured breathlessly, closing his eyes. “You do not disappoint, Madam.”

“Miss. But let
me warn you now, that if you make one move against us, I will tear you to
pieces. Not that you would, of course.”

“Of course,”
Devlin whispered. When he opened his eyes, it was to find that the guest of
honor had appeared and was standing on the opposite side of the table, staring
with approval at the tea set between them.

Amazement
twitched at the corner of Devlin’s hitherto frozen mouth. His nostrils flared
as if he caught a scent he liked. Flashes of red light danced across Ananda’s
simple white shirt and loose, brown drawstring pants. He blinked in the glare
and bowed his head. Without a word, Devlin pulled a tiny remote from his pocket
and hit a button. The colored lights winked out, replaced by softened yellow.
Suddenly the cavern seemed terribly hollow.

“Welcome,” the
practiced voice echoed.

Ananda smiled,
but it was not his usual smile. It was slightly drawn. It seemed I wasn’t the
only one for whom enlightenment was a continuous process.

“Your
companion is something of a spitfire.” Devlin took yet another step toward his goal.
It was the first time I had heard him laugh authentically, and, to my surprise,
it did not repulse me. “There is a shadow growing across her character.”

I was about to
protest, but Ananda stopped me. “You are mistaken.”

“Am I?”

“There is no
such thing as opposition. Balance is an illusion.”

His words
caught me off guard. Sure, I had experienced
annica,
the oneness of all
things, but I couldn’t get the wisdom I had seen in Eva’s wolf story out of my
mind. Everything was yin and yang. At every point, every person faced a choice
and had to ask, will this come out right or will it cause harm?

“Even
according to your own logic,” Ananda continued, “light will always win, for the
tiniest pinprick can destroy even the most stygian darkness.”

Devlin’s chin
dipped. He was smiling, not the predatory smile I had seen before, but an
honest, gentle smile. “Ah yes, but somehow the blackness is always there first,
always one step ahead.”

Another few paces
brought him to the couch. He sat slowly, as if he was worried he might frighten
his guest away with any sudden moves. Splitting a slice of lemon almost
lovingly, he positioned it around the edge of a teacup of hot water and placed
the offering at Ananda’s table-setting.

Ananda cradled
the cup and saucer close to his chest as he leaned back into the leather. He
glanced at my cautious, crouched stance and seemed to insist that I take a
seat.

“Move over,
pipsqueak,” I grumbled at the unsuspecting genius. He slid over without a
sound. I threw myself into his warmth.

I was sure
someone would speak, that given the immediacy of our situation, Ananda would
begin a conversation, ask what this demon wanted, maybe even refuse to stay. I
should have known better.

They sat,
considering each other. I felt like I was watching a dance, but no one moved a
muscle. Finally, as Devlin reached out and picked up a cup, the Arhat’s lips
parted.

“You
introduced Petula to the Sangha. You referred the Sangha to the men that burned
the monastery,” he said, but somehow it did not sound like an accusation, even
though it would make Devlin the murderer of his friends and protectors.

I raised an
eyebrow.

“I did.”

“And Ursula,
who took refuge here? You sent her to my captors?”

Devlin’s smile
grew somewhat, taking on an almost crooked charm.

“Sonofabitch!”
Jinx let out in an explosive rush. He leaned forward so sharply, I thought he
was about to jump across the coffee table, but he was merely putting himself
into the thick of the conversation. “You….” He pointed at Devlin, suddenly
unafraid of retaliation or social graces. “You were the one who got me that job
with the coven in Louisiana! I was in KC because of you! I went to the coffee
shop because of you!”