Three Wishes (2 page)

Humans edged past her, laughing and chatting as they enjoyed the warm early summer breeze that tunneled down the streets. The setting sun slanted its golden rays along the edges of the skyscrapers, lighting up mirrored windows that refracted the light like a prism. The smell of spicy Korean food wafted from a nearby restaurant, a delightful accompaniment to the soft notes of jazz from the street musician. Asta longed to sit at a café and watch the humans go by, to pretend for a moment that she was one of them, but there was work to be done.

Infernal demons. They ruined everything with their trespass. Although, if it hadn’t been for the demons crossing the gates, she would never have had this assignment, these precious moments of twilight in a beloved city.

The demon she’d originally been tracking blinked out of her awareness, his discordant song fading before vanishing with a flash. He was here then he wasn’t. Either this demon was good at masking his energy signature or he was transporting himself in and out of her range in some unusual fashion. To fade away like that—she’d never experienced that with a demon before. Who was he, and why did he persist in flitting in and out of Chicago like an evil, hyped-up hummingbird?

None of that mattered at this particular moment. That demon was gone, but another was nearby, broadcasting a signal so strong it nearly knocked her over. His melody rasped along her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. He teased from a block away, edging a few steps back and forth, beckoning to her. How ridiculously suicidal of him.

Asta flattened her back against the sharp stucco of a building and pulled her energy tight inside. It was no use. She’d been flying around like a fool just a few moments ago. If this demon hadn’t sensed her by now, he was an idiot. No, he clearly knew she was here. He was taunting her, calling her to him.

Crazy demons. Ah well, chase this one down, rip his head off, then maybe find a club to dance the night away. One more thing she could cross off her sin list for the week.

Ducking her head, Asta weaved between buildings and down side streets, trying to keep the demon well within her range. She didn’t want to move too fast, to scare him away, but neither did she want to lose track of him as she had the other one. Rounding a corner, she got close enough to get a visual on her prey.

Wow. He’s kinda... hot.

What? Where had that come from? She’d clearly been down here too long if she was thinking a
demon
was attractive. True, the human form he’d assume was nicely put together. The demon walked down the sidewalk with a confident swagger and bold set to his shoulders. From the backside, he was visually appealing, but she knew inside he wouldn’t be. Demons were the embodiment of evil, no matter how attractively they packaged their inner monsters.

Still... .
He was handsome in a way that brought admiring glances from passersby, although that might have been the beautifully tailored dove-gray suit he wore. No, it was him—the dark hair sprinkled with silver, the fit figure inside that gorgeous suit. More than his looks, there was an attitude that clung to him, radiating a cocky sense of self-assuredness as he strolled along. He acted like he could have any man or woman he passed, take any item that struck his fancy. The world belonged to him. He was average height, and although he seemed to have plenty of muscles under that suit, and plenty of demon-power beneath that, he didn’t seem the type to bully his way through life. No, this demon was sneaky. He might foolishly be leaving a glaring trail of demon energy in his wake, but she doubted that was his usual style. This one would hide in the shadows and wait for the right moment to dart out and take what he wanted. He’d rather run than fight. The end game was more important than stupid pride.

Why was that so very attractive to her? Demon. Demon. Demon, she chanted to herself. He was dangerous, amoral, and breaking the law with his very presence. If she didn’t kill him, countless humans would die by his hands. Her weird attraction was a product of her end-of-assignment blues. Or possibly the coffee. She’d have to read up and see if one of the side effects was a sudden attraction to bad-boy demons.

Her mark strolled north on Ashland, heading into an area known as the Ukrainian Village. Trailing him for a few blocks, she followed him into a giant Walgreens drug store where he spent an inordinate amount of time looking at prophylactics before pocketing an array of cold medication and chocolate bars. What the heck was he doing?

What the heck was
she
doing? One quick jump and she’d be on him. Even with her sub-par entrancement skills, she could hide her attack from the humans in the store. Jump him, rip his head off, then he’d be dead and she could go do something fun. Inexplicably, she held back, watching the demon pocket a bottle of sexual lubricant and stuff a packet of socks into the front of his trousers.

Asta clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. Oh spirits-on-high, the socks made him look like his reproductive organs were huge and ready for action. It would be hysterical if they detained and frisked him. She watched as he stuck another pair of socks down his pants then manipulated the bundle into shape. Eying his crotch, he jumped up and down a bit. Asta choked back another laugh as a packet of socks migrated down his pant leg and out the bottom by his shoe. Stars, this guy was hysterical. The other ones hadn’t been funny at all. Maybe she’d watch him just a little longer to see what else this crazy demon did... then she’d kill him.

Sauntering past the cashier and through the glass double doors, the demon continued up Ashland, taking random detours down Division and Milwaukee as he scrawled profanity on a fountain in a public park and vandalized a variety of signs. Was he a demon, or an adolescent human out past curfew? When was he going to start being... demonic?

And what had he just put over the antenna of a parked Nissan Sentra? Digging in his pockets, the demon pulled out a handful of something and began to decorate cars, signs, doorknobs, and fencing with... condoms. Any vertical or protruded surface now sported a lubricated, ribbed-for-her-pleasure condom, little wrappers littering the sidewalk and street gutters.

Okay, this was more fun than a half-price sale at Marshall Field’s. Well, not quite, but it was a close second.

A few blocks later, the demon turned and walked into a bakery. Not just any bakery, but Alliance Bakery. The charming retro neon sign blinked invitingly, and the canvas awning proclaimed the availability of macarons, croissants, and wedding cakes, but it was the sweet, rich smell of sugar and butter mixed with the aroma of coffee that had Asta pressing her nose against the glass. It had been a while since she’d walked the streets in this section of town, filling her senses with what, for her, was forbidden. She was a bit surprised to see that Alliance was no longer an old-fashioned Polish bakery, but instead had filled their display window with an array of colorful French pastries. Éclairs and fruit tarts crowded around intricate fondant-covered cakes. And what were those brightly colored round things?

And where was the demon?

Berating herself for her inattention, Asta scanned the area, breathing a sigh of relief when she realized he was still inside, broadcasting his energy like a homing signal. She should move, get away from the door so he didn’t knock her over when he left. That wouldn’t exactly be stealthy. Still... all those pastries.

The door opened, and she jumped, hastily moving aside. He turned, his eyes meeting hers.

Oh shoot. Busted. But she couldn’t turn away if she’d wanted to. The front of him was even more entrancing than the back. High cheekbones with an angular jaw in a tanned face. A sharp nose, its lines softened by a full, generously curved mouth. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing a golden vee of skin. But it was his eyes that held her in place—gray with flecks of bright silver. A corner of his mouth curved upward in a sardonic smile, as red lit his eyes with a flash.

“Excuse me.” His voice was like dark honey. She could do nothing but stare at him openmouthed as he turned and strolled casually down the street, a box in one hand and a coffee in the other.

Idiot. What was she doing? She was an angel, an enforcer who had been skillfully ending demon lives for one-hundred years. Hundreds of demons had met their ends at her hands, and here she was, stalking one around town like a teenage groupie, gawking at him like a fool as he knocked her aside exiting a bakery. It was probably a good thing she was leaving in a week if this was how she was going to start acting every time a demon entered her territory.

“You coming or not?”

Asta felt her face heat up, and she balled her hands in sudden anger—not at the demon, at herself. She’d appeared a powerless fool, and now he was taunting her. She fought the anger and shame as he shrugged and turned.

“Suit yourself.”

The demon flagged down a taxi, forcing Asta to follow from the air. She considered giving up the chase and heading back to her perch to lick her humiliating wounds in peace, but pride had always been a sin she’d been able to conquer, maybe with a struggle, but conquer nonetheless. And to be honest, she found this demon odd, intriguing.

No, fascinating. Evil had never been so appealing before. Evidently, she lost her head when evil came packaged in a nice suit with a wicked smile.

There was no sense in hiding from him now. Perhaps if she made her pursuit obvious, he’d get the idea and run. Surely he sensed her as she flew down the streets, but no, he gave the sky no more than a glance as he paid the taxi driver and entered a swanky hotel. Up and up he rode to the top floor. Asta used her own method of travel and flew to the rooftop.

Just a few feet of concrete between her and the demon. What was he doing in there? She could sense him moving about, but there was no destruction, no hoard of prostitutes, no killing. After an hour, the demon left, glancing toward her hidden form on the rooftop before taking a taxi toward Wicker Park—only about ten blocks north of where he’d been before.

She followed. Of course she followed. It was if she was tethered to the horrid being. Once again, she pondered her own folly. Why hadn’t she killed him?

Because he’s different
. And that was enough for her. For a century she’d watched over humans, keeping a professional distance while she yearned to be a part of their lives. For a century she’d swooped in and decapitated demons, turning their bodies to dust as their spirit-beings flew wingless toward their judgment and afterlife. Same old thing day in and day out while she wanted so much more. Well, starting today, she was having more. Deviating from the plan had never felt so good, and watching this demon was fun. Way more fun then she’d had in a long time.

Besides, she was leaving in a week. There was no harm in indulging in her curiosity for an evening. She could always kill him later. Or maybe tomorrow. Or maybe never.

Night had settled onto the city like a dark shroud, bringing a damp, cool breeze from the lake, even this far inland. Whatever this demon was up to tonight, he was now moving through a revitalized area full of brownstone buildings... without incident. For a demon, he’d been surprisingly tame. Shoplifting at the convenience store and removing a handful of traffic signs were the extent of his evil so far. Not the immorality she was used to. Where was the murder, the arson, the rape? This demon just seemed to be meandering around the city without any nefarious goal.

Asta followed as he turned a corner onto a busy street humming with action. Al fresco diners lined the sidewalk, filling the air with conversation and the clink of glasses. The demon walked past them to stand in front of a corner building, as if contemplating whether to head into the Barre studio for a workout or the upscale Mexican restaurant.

Still hot. Still looks downright gorgeous in that suit. Ugh. Where did these thoughts come from?

There was a cocky humor in the way he moved and looked that stirred far more sinful thoughts than the espresso she’d had this morning. He smoothed the dark wavy hair back from his face and scanned the street, as if looking for someone.
Me
? Asta had a moment of panic. Silly angel. He already knew she was following him. She’d made no effort to hide her energy once he’d plowed into her outside the bakery. Still, she couldn’t help but duck behind a parked sedan, peeking around the bumper at him. As she watched, he took off his jacket and swung it over his shoulder, arm muscles straining against the crisp lines of his shirt.

And there was the demon energy he broadcasted—like sandpaper against her skin, like the discordant notes of speed-metal to her ear. Yes, he was appealing in a very forbidden way. A bad, bad boy she would love to taste before returning to an eternity of rightful balance in Aaru.

He turned toward her, looking down the sidewalk, and she caught a view of the crisp pleats along the front of his wonderfully styled pants. Thank goodness he’d taken those darned socks out. Asta choked back another laugh at the thought then hesitated, indecision weighing like a rock in her stomach. This demon hadn’t done anything terribly wrong—nothing worse than her flying around the city. Would it be so horrible if she let him go? Maybe he was a tourist from Hel, soaking up the culture of a big human city. Maybe he’d just enjoy a brief vacation then return home without any murder or mayhem.

Or not. He was a demon. His very presence warranted execution. Violating the treaty by crossing from Hel into the land of the humans was a crime punishable by death. The demons knew it, and they still took the risk. Well, this was the penalty they would pay. Besides, even if he hadn’t done anything terrible tonight, he still might. And he might have done so in the past. He had to die.

No matter what the rules were, she was unable to make herself do anything beyond watch him walk into the restaurant and head toward the rear, where a large sunroom-like structure offered some protection from the elements. Asta darted around the corner, eyeing him through the wrought iron gates as he exited the glass-enclosed room to take a seat at an outdoor metal table for two. He’d barely sat down before a waiter brought a huge yellow drink along with a basket of chips and some kind of dip. Then the demon did something as mystifying as when he’d put the socks in his pants—he had a friendly conversation with the waiter.