Three Wishes (5 page)

Turning away from the boat of angry, wet tourists, Dar headed down Michigan Avenue. There was a lot going on—bands, parties, and Friday night happy hour. Some convention had taken over the top floor of The Wit for a private party. The olive green suit he had on today wasn’t as nice as the one he’d left in the alley, but it would still be appropriate for a corporate function. He wasn’t invited, but crashing a party was at the top of Dar’s list of fun things to do. The only thing holding him back was the faint, intermittent energy signature that hinted another demon might have beaten him to the fun. Back in Hel, Dar would have joined in, but here demons guarded their territories fiercely. Two would definitely be a crowd, although if there was another demon prowling around, his angel was bound to be there too. Hmm, crashing a party was sounding more appealing than ever.

There was no guarantee the demon at the party wouldn’t want to tear his heart out for more personal reasons beyond encroaching on territory. Dar belonged to the household of the Iblis. Being second in command to Satan tended to put a big bull’s-eye on a demon’s back, in or out of Hel.

Pretending to talk on his cell phone, Dar lingered and watched humans stream into the building. Damn it; was the demon there or wasn’t he? The energy signal was fleeting, flickering in and out, as if the creature straddled two worlds. Fuck it. Dar shoved the phone into his pocket, resolved to take his chances. He’d just started toward the revolving doors when a familiar woman caught his eye.

Not a
woman
, he corrected himself, an
angel
.

A grin curved his lips. An angel with warm-brown skin, a poof of coffee-colored hair that lightened to dark gold at the tips, and the longest legs he’d ever seen. She might look like an angel, in the metaphorical sense as well as a species designation, but she’d hardly behaved like one today. He’d caught her flying twice, vanishing her wings with a guilty snap each time she’d sensed him. Then she’d lingered outside a coffee shop, pacing back and forth in front of the entrance for half an hour before sneaking in to get an espresso. Just before lunch, she’d slipped into an exclusive boutique in the Gold Coast district and exited with a shopping bag. Yes, his angel was a naughty girl.

She’d come, as he’d expected, drawn by the demon signature Dar had sensed, even though she’d tried to avoid his presence all day. Dar let his energy out, not caring if the other demon sensed him or not, and was rewarded by an irritated twitch of the angel’s head.

She stood before the revolving door as if she wasn’t sure how to navigate it. Her fingers flicked against her legs, drawing his eyes to their long lengths.

This had started out as a fun, annoy-the-angel prank, but it had quickly turned into something else. She’d been intriguing last night—endearing even, with her fear of rats—and today he’d found her to be smart, with surprising compassion. She’d watched the humans go about their day with such affection in her eyes. She’d held the door for a man with a huge box, smiling in pleasure at his thanks. She’d erased graffiti from several bus shelters, snatched a reckless cat from certain death beneath a taxi’s wheels. She’d tripped a pickpocket, returning the stolen wallet to its owner without anyone the wiser.

In flight, her wings had reflected the light, rivaling the sun with their brilliance. Each time they’d burst from her back, tearing her shirt with their width. Each time she’d somehow repaired her shirt to its undamaged state as she landed and hid her wings. The humans were none the wiser as she flew around the city, sat beside them on park benches, browsed the sale racks at Carson Pirie Scott. Were they all like this? The few angels he’d met so far had been insufferably pompous. Whatever few sins she indulged in, he doubted pride was one of them.

Yes, this angel was very intriguing... and she looked completely ridiculous standing there chewing her bottom lip as the humans parted around her to enter the building. Silly angels. Holding his energy tight within to conceal his location from the other demon, Dar walked forward and grabbed the edge of the revolving door.

“Going in?” He flashed her his most charming smile, faltering as she stared at him with unblinking brown eyes. Okay, maybe it wasn’t a charming smile. At least she wasn’t running away screaming like human females sometimes did, or threatening to poke his eyes out as she’d done this morning.

“Yes. Thank you.” The angel’s voice was coolly professional. Dar waved her in, trying to keep his grin from becoming even toothier.

The angel swept into the space between the doors with an inhuman smoothness of movement. And stopped. Okay. Guess he was supposed to push the door for her too. Holding back a laugh, Dar shoved the door forward, hitting the angel on the ass, propelling her forward.

“Hey!” She stumbled, grabbing the glass in front of her for balance as she glared back at him.

“Where the fuck are you from, angel? Don’t they have revolving doors in Aaru? Or maybe you’ve spent the last hundred years as an enforcer in Po-dunk, Iowa?” He shoved the door once more.

The angel ignored him, staggering into the lobby as the doors forcibly ejected her. He choked down a laugh and followed her to the elevator.

“Going to the penthouse party?” Of course she was. She braved his odious presence in entering the building, so she must be after the other demon—the one at the party.

Silence.

“Do they have elevators in Iowa? Maybe you’d like me to help you with this one. See, you push the little button here to go up, and then, when the doors open, you get in. Push the button for the floor you want to go to. When you’re halfway there, push the other button with the picture of the fireman’s hat on it.”

That got her attention. The angel’s lips twitched before she shot him a narrow-eyed look. “I believe pushing
that
button will do nothing but halt the elevator and summon the rescue staff.”

Dar followed her in and punched the button for the twelfth floor. “Ah, they
do
have elevators in Iowa.”

“I’ve never been to Iowa.”

Her hands clenched then tapped a steady tempo against her leg as she stared resolutely at the illuminated numbers above the door.

“So, my beautiful, less-than-righteous angel, what brings you to Chicago? Are you here chasing all the demons attending that whosiwhats convention?”

The angel punched the button to halt the elevator and spun about to face him, her beautiful eyes widening. “Do you know of a plot? What demons are attending this convention, and what are their intentions?”

Dar shrugged. “It’s a cybersecurity conference. You figure it out.”

In a flash, he was pinned against the elevator wall. Now
this
was fun. Her long fingers around his neck were surprisingly warm, and her eyes had flecks of gold in their brown depths. For an angel, she had a remarkable command of the human form. He could even hear her heart, smell what clearly must be human perfume wafting tantalizingly from her skin. So shoplifting dresses, drinking espresso, and feeling demons up in dark alleys weren’t her only vices. Hmmm.

“You will tell me everything you know about the demons at this conference.”

Fast. Smart. Gorgeous eyes. Sucks at compulsion.

“You will come with me tonight to listen to the blues band playing off of State Street later.”

For a June evening, the air inside the elevator had become decidedly chilly. He obviously wasn’t good at compulsion either. Ah well.

Dar reached out to wrap his arms around her waist. “No? Maybe? How about you think on it and start the elevator back up. Otherwise the rescue staff is going to come, and they’ll think we’re in here fucking.”

That got her moving. The angel gasped and jumped away from him. “You will ignore me and discontinue speaking with me.”

Right. He had to give her points for continuing to try. Enough practice and maybe she’d eventually be able to compel a gnat, or maybe a tapeworm.

“Not a chance.”

She let out an exasperated breath and smoothed back her dark curls. “I’m
working
. I’m an enforcer. This is what I do. I catch demons in my territory and kill them. Now please shut up and go away so I can do my job.”

“But if I go away, then how will you ever find out what’s happening at the conference? No, I think you’re best bet is to keep me close and try to seduce me into telling you all I know.”

Dar had no idea what the fuck was going on at the conference, if anything. The other demon was here—maybe. This was a party for the conference attendees. Put two and two together, and the demon probably did have something planned. Or not. Whatever. It was a good lie to keep this angel by his side for the next few days.

She shimmered, a blur of golden light before regaining control of her form. Dar’s gaze roved down her neat figure to the strappy leather sandals, inhaling as the faint notes of jasmine drifted by. Any angel that took this much care about her appearance and the realism of her human form had to be at least moderately familiar with the sin of vanity. Hmm, what other sins did she enjoy?

“All right. Stay close, but at least do the shut-up part. I have a demon to hunt. Later we’ll talk about the conference.”

She was back to tapping her fingers against her leg. Dar bit back a smile and followed her out of the elevator, trying to stay as close to her as he could without climbing up her pants. But as fascinating as this angel was, the buffet right at the front of the room stole the demon’s attention. Gluttony had always been his favorite sin, and this party was a delight to every sense. Dar surfed beside the long table, snagging an array of sushi, lamb meatballs, buffalo burger bites, and exotic cheeses. Oh, the cheeses. He was tempted to steal an entire tray of Manchego and stuff it into his pockets for later, but restrained himself when he saw the human off to the left making to-order crepes. Three crab and lobster crepes later, Dar managed to catch up with the angel. She was prowling the room, staring intently at each human she encountered. Thankfully, she had that angel mojo going on, or they would have thrown her ass out as a freaky stalker by now.

“Did you get a crepe? I shit you not; they are better than the cheese. They’re better than the lamb meatballs, and that’s saying a lot. You’ve got to have a crepe.”

“I don’t eat,” she hissed, turning her back on him.

Dar dodged around her. “But you do drink. I’ve seen you drink.” Reaching out, the demon snatched two glasses from a waiter’s tray. “Here. It’s a champagne fruit thing. Much better than the coffee stuff you snuck around drinking this morning.”

She went to wave the glass away, then obviously thought better of it. Taking the drink, she held it awkwardly away from her body, intently scanning the crowd.

“Look, I think the demon left. His signature was blinking in and out of here until we got to the party. I haven’t sensed him since then.”

The angel rounded on him, sloshing the drink over the edge of the glass as she gestured widely. “I
know
that. Where did he go? We were in the only elevator in the building. These windows are sealed shut and show no sign of breakage.”

“Wrong. There’s actually outdoor seating on a patio. Although I doubt he jumped from the 27th floor. And there
is
another elevator, although it doesn’t go all the way to rooftop. He’s not here now. He went down while you were throttling me in the other elevator, or jumped from the balcony, or took the fire stairs. Doesn’t matter. Drink your champagne, and I’ll get you a lobster crepe. It’s free, you know.”

“I didn’t sense him taking the stairs down. I didn’t sense him going anywhere. He’s got to be here somewhere.”

Dar rolled his eyes. Angels were so oblivious. This one had been here a century and still seemed to know as much about demons as a postage stamp.

“Some of us are good at hiding our energy signatures. I know a demon that could walk right by you on the street and you wouldn’t notice her. I’d be willing to bet he’s gone, and I don’t bet frivolously. Maybe he’s just really good at cloaking his energy. Maybe he has an elven magical item that transports him through another dimension, or maybe he snuck out. I don’t fucking know where he is. Call it a night. Punch the old time clock and hang up the whole enforcer thing for the evening. Eat a crepe. Drink champagne. Then come listen to some blues with me.”

The angel’s breath hitched, and he could see the idea appealed to her. Then she shook her head with a look of regret. “No. I’m working. Do you think he’s using an elven magical item? Would that possibly account for the in-and-out phasing of his energy I’ve sensed the last few days? I’ve never experienced a demon doing that before.”

Dar stared at her for a moment, realizing he’d never get her to eat or—or do other things—while she was obsessing over work. Might as well humor her and hope she’d relax later, maybe after a few glasses of champagne.

“It could be a magical item, or someone is summoning him. Although I doubt he’d be phasing in and out if he was summoned. That’s usually a here-or-not-here kind of thing. It could be a botched summoning, though. Maybe some inept fool is trying to summon him, and he only gets partially to this plane before bouncing back.”

“Over and over?” The angel’s eyes narrowed.

“A really persistent, inept fool. I’m sensing the same energy readings you are. I’d vote for magical item, but only idiots hang their hat on one theory when others are still within the realm of possibility.”

“When several theories make the same predictions, the simpler one is most logically the truth.”

Oh, for fuck sake. “Occam’s razor. Yeah, yeah, but excluding other theories is often an Achilles’ heel for you angels. You all lack creativity, broadness of thinking, and faith.”

“I have creativity,” the angel interrupted, bristling. “I have faith. And how dare you doubt my intellect.”

“Oh, it’s not your intellect I’m doubting, it’s your imagination. Right thinking, meditation, vibration patterns, and all that sensory deprivation crap—it’s warped your ability to think outside the box. That’s why I’m going to get you a crepe right now. You’ll think better after you’ve eaten a crepe. And possibly some cheese.”