CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“Earn my keep?” Fang said slowly to Thorn, enunciating every word just so that there was no miscommunication. “Are you out of your fucking mind? I just got back and I can barely stand on my own. What do you want me to do? Bleed on them?”

Thorn laughed. “You sound rather robust to me.”

Whatever. The man was high if he thought for even one second that Fang could do much more than what he was currently doing. Sitting. Thorn definitely had to be on something.

Fang leaned back on the bed to glare at him. “What do you want exactly?”

“An end to the mistreatment of small, fluffy dust bunnies. But that doesn’t seem feasible at present, so in lieu of that I want you to know that while Xedrix and company may have assisted you and Aimee, they are still demons to be watched and executed if need be.”

Yeah, that really sounded like something he was raring to do. Sign him up . . . never. “Why aren’t you sending them back to Kalosis if they’re such a problem?”

He looked extremely disappointed. “They don’t really fall under my jurisdiction. Charonte demons are a different entity and have a separate pantheon they answer to. It doesn’t mean we turn a complete blind eye to them, but so long as they take it easy on humanity—which means they’re eating the corrupt and not decent upstanding citizens, and their gods keep them in check, we don’t worry about them . . . much.”

Thorn manifested a five-by-seven photo and handed it to him. It was of a man in his early twenties whose heart had been torn out of his chest. “This, on the other hand, is what concerns us. Or more to the point, me and thereby you as default.”

While gruesome, it was a scene Fang had seen several times since coming to New Orleans. “It looks like a typical voodoo sacrifice.”

“Well, slap my ass and call me Sally if you’re not bright. It is part of a summoning ritual for a Grand Laruae.”

That was a term a wolfwere didn’t hear every day. In fact, he had heard of it never. “A what?”

Thorn’s features were completely impassive. “Badass demon with a superiority complex who picks his teeth with the bones of infants. Let’s just keep it simple and say he’s a demon I want out of the human realm. ASAP.”

“And why can’t you go after him?”

Thorn looked extremely perturbed by his question. “That’s a long story for one night when I’m under-the-table drunk. In the meantime, the shortest and simplest version is politics, which really chafes my ass. Believe me, I don’t like it any more than you do. In fact, I’d like nothing better than pinning this bastard’s warted hide to the nearest tree, preferably an oak one . . . but let’s not go there. Unfortunately, I, personally, can’t touch him without war breaking out.”

He indicated the photo with a jerk of his chin. “Phrixis has taken out some of my best people over the centuries and I’d give anything short of my soul to put him out of commission once and for all.”

Fang looked down at the face of the kid in the photo. His features were contorted by fear. Poor kid hadn’t stood a chance and that set off his own anger. One thing Fang had never been able to stomach. A bully. Thorn was right. This asshole needed to be stopped.

Thorn pinned him with a lethal stare. “You, my little loup-garou, are the best weapon in this battle since our VD maven won’t see you coming and neither will Phrixis.”

“What about the priestess?” he asked since Thorn had brought her up. “What do you want me to do where she’s concerned?”

“Her, I’ll take care of. There’s no treaty where she’s concerned so I have free rein to do with her as I will. Bitch going to rue the day she decided to unleash Phrixis on the world.”

Fang arched his brow in amusement. Now there was a sentence you didn’t hear every day. “Rue the day?”

Thorn shrugged. “I’m old enough to make you look like an embryo. Sometimes it shows. You have twenty-four hours to find Phrixis or I’m sending you back to the Nether Realm.”

That threat and his tone hit the wrong nerve. Fang glared at him. “Fuck you, asshole.”

Thorn’s eyes turned red. A deep, burning red that shimmered like running blood in the dim light. For some reason he couldn’t name, an image of Thorn in black armor with wings flashed through Fang’s mind. But it was gone so fast, he wasn’t sure what prompted it.

“I advise you against taking that tone with me, wolf. While I’m usually good at taming the beast inside me, I don’t always succeed. And you definitely don’t want to see that side of me. In fact, you should be grateful I’m giving you twenty-four hours. If you were whole and if this wasn’t your first target, I wouldn’t be so lenient.”

“I don’t like taking orders.”

“And I don’t like repeating myself.” Thorn glanced at the door where Aimee had walked out before he pinned Fang with a merciless glower. “You offered your soul up to whomever could save Aimee. I answered and now I own you. Lock, stock, and soul. Do what you’re told, wolf, or you’ll both spend eternity in a place that makes the Nether Realm seem like Disneyland.”

Fang’s hackles rose. He hated that tone and the threat, but Thorn was right. He’d been the one to make the bargain by his own free will and he would abide by it.

Even if it killed him. “You seriously lack people skills.”

The red faded from Thorn’s eyes as a slow, insidious smile curved his lips. “And I flunked anger management the moment I put the counselor through a stone wall. You might want to keep that in mind.”

Fang felt the muscle in his jaw working. “I can tell we’re going to get along like Batman and the Joker.”

“Just remember one thing, wolf. I’m the best friend you’ll ever have or the last enemy you’ll ever make.”

Because he wouldn’t live long enough to make another one. Thorn didn’t say those words, but his tone implied them.

He handed Fang another photograph and a piece of cloth that held the stench of demon. “That’s your target. Make me not regret saving you.”

Fang started to flip him off. Had he been stronger, he probably would have. But right now the idea of flying through a wall when he’d have to go chase down a demon didn’t seem like the wisest course of action.

Vane would be proud. The Nether Realm had finally taught him a modicum of self-preservation.

“When does my time start?”

“Ten minutes ago.”

Fang snorted. “Thanks. That’s real generous of you.”

Thorn seemed unperturbed by his sarcasm. “I should probably warn you that I’m not real big on fairness and I have a below-zero tolerance on most things. Do your job. Do it right and we won’t have any problems. Fuck up and I’ll most likely kill you. Fuck up bad enough and I’ll torture you first.”

“Anything else I need to know?”

“Just this.” Thorn reached out and grabbed him by the wrist. Before Fang could move, Thorn had him on his back in the bed with his palm pressed against his shoulder blade.

Fang cursed as his shoulder burned. It felt as if he were being branded. He tried to fight, but he couldn’t move. It was like something inhuman and unseen was holding him down. When Thorn finally released him, he saw that he wasn’t far off. The scent of burning flesh hung heavy in the air and on his shoulder was a round circle with ancient symbols.

Reaching to touch it, Fang hissed as he increased the pain of it. “What is that?”

“Protection from the lesser demons and from spells the mavens and warlocks might want to use on you once they realize you’re one of mine. Believe me, you’ll be grateful you have it.”

Maybe when the stinging stopped, but right now he wanted to kick Thorn’s ass until that bastard hurt as much as he did. “Will it work on Phrixis?”

Thorn laughed. “You’re amusing.” He stepped back and handed him a gold hilt. He flicked a ruby stone up and the blade extended three feet out. “This is your sword,” he said in a tone implying Fang was less than intelligent. “You press the pointy end into the enemy. Try not to let him make eye contact with you and remember, he spits invisible poison.”

“Oh, goody.”

Thorn ignored the sarcasm as he pulled out a cell phone. “Call me when it’s over. Just press two and I’ll answer.”

“And if I die?”

“I’ll know and I won’t be happy. Remember, wolf, I’m one of the few beings who can follow you into the afterworld and seriously fuck you up there. Don’t fail me.”

“Important note taken. Thank you, Dr. Morbid.”

Thorn inclined his head to him before he vanished.

Fang let out a deep sigh as he debated what to do. But there was no decision really. He had to get started chasing the demon and the clock was ticking.

Best to get out of here before Aimee returned.

He picked the locket up from his chest and held it in a tight fist. He would be back.

First he had duties.

Taking a deep breath, he dressed himself in jeans, a T-shirt, and a leather jacket before he held the cloth to his nose and took a deep breath. With the demon’s stench choking him, he left to track it down.

Aimee paused as she entered Fang’s empty room. The white duvet was still rumpled and the pillows askew as if he’d just stepped away. “Fang?”

No one answered.

Frowning, she knew he wasn’t in the bathroom since that was where she’d just come from. Where would he go? She searched Peltier House and Sanctuary with her powers and still there was no sign of him.

Had he gone to his brother?

She closed her eyes and let her powers wander through the ether until she found him. He was down in the Warehouse District, walking along the street like he hadn’t just come back from hell. The antique stores that were housed in the old warehouse buildings were closed for the night as he passed by them.

What in the world was he doing there?

She watched as he paused to lean against a gray brick building as if trying to catch his breath. He had one arm wrapped around his ribs before he pushed himself away and continued down the street. He kept his head lowered and by the predatorial way he moved she could tell he was tracking someone.

Why would he do something so stupid? She’d gone to a lot of trouble to save him for him to just turn around and get knifed in a back alley when he should still be in bed resting.

“What are you thinking, wolf?”

He was in no shape to be after anyone or anything. And before she could stop herself, she teleported to be right there beside him.

Fang whirled on her with a growl so fierce, she actually took a step back in fear. She’d forgotten just how formidable he could be. Even thin and weak, he was still as fierce as any Slayer she’d ever seen. His long hair fell into feral eyes and the sword he swung came at her so fast that all she could do was gasp and hold her hands up.

The blade paused so close to her that she could feel the tiniest scrape of it against her upraised palms.

“What are you doing here?” Fang demanded, his tone tight with anger.

“Wondering the same thing about you, buster. You know when last we parted about twenty minutes ago, you weren’t exactly in the shape to go out on a walk.” She pushed the blade back, taking care not to cut her hand in the process. “Never mind fight something that requires that”—she looked down at his weapon—“to get its attention. Do you even know how to use a sword?”

He scoffed at her anger. “It’s not exactly hard. They’re pretty self-explanatory. You use the sharp end to stab your opponent.”

“Yeah, right . . . take it from someone with centuries of experience, they’re not that easy to use.”

He flicked a slide on the hilt and the blade retracted. “And take it from someone who’s been relying on them for the last few months to stay alive, I’m a real quick study.”

Perhaps, but she still didn’t want him in the street alone while he wasn’t in his best fighting shape. “What are you doing out here, Fang?”

Fang wanted to answer that question, he really did. But how did he explain to her that he’d saved her life by offering up his soul? It wasn’t something she’d welcome. Knowing her, she’d curse him for it. The one thing about Aimee, she didn’t like people protecting her.

But damn, standing there in front of him with the streetlights reflecting off her pale hair and her brow furrowed by worry for him, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

How he wanted a bite of her apple. . . .

Forcing his thoughts away from that disaster, he cleared his throat. “I need a few minutes alone. Do you mind?”

She didn’t relent in the least. “To do what? And if it’s anything nasty like Dev would say to shock me, please spare me the details.”

He let out an aggravated breath. “Does everything have to be an argument with you?”

Her face offended, she gaped. “I asked a simple question.”

“That has an extremely complicated answer. Now—”

His words were interrupted by a harsh scream. Fang cursed as he realized it came from the same general area where he’d been headed.

It was the demon. He could feel it. The one thing he’d learned in the Nether Realm was how to sense one anytime it was near. The stench and chill were unmistakable. And his new mark was burning like fire.

“Please, Aimee. Go.”

As expected, she refused. She even rushed ahead of him toward the scream’s origin.

Fang shook his head in disgust as he flashed himself to the demon in a dark alley, narrowly appearing there before Aimee. Wasn’t it mules who were supposed to be so stubborn? Obviously someone had missed the memo on bears.

He pulled up short as he caught sight of the mountain of a beast. At least seven feet tall, the demon had flowing black hair and eyes that held no discernible pupil or white in his eyes. They were jet stones set in a face that was contorted by the pleasure he took in causing pain.

The human looked to be in her midtwenties. Pretty and tiny, she was dressed in a blue restaurant uniform. Her face had been torn open by the demon’s claws. She sobbed and begged for help while the demon held her there by her dark hair.

As soon as Phrixis realized he wasn’t alone, he released her and turned toward Fang.

Extending the sword, Fang flashed himself between the human and Phrixis. “Get her out of here.”

Aimee nodded as she wrapped her arms around the hysterical human and carried her away from the danger.

Phrixis laughed as he raked a repugnant sneer over Fang’s body. “What pathetic creature are you?”

“Pathetic’s really not a word that applies to me.”

“No?” Phrixis blasted him.

Fang dodged the blast and swung the sword straight for the demon’s throat.

Phrixis laughed. “How weak and worthless do you think I am?” He landed a solid punch to Fang’s side. It was so fierce that he swore he felt his ribs crack.

The pain of it drove the breath from his body. Fang fell to one knee, but he refused to go down. He was a wolf and Phrixis was about to learn what that meant. Shifting forms, he attacked.

The demon staggered back as Fang set his teeth into his arm and ripped it open. Phrixis hit him in the head, but all that did was strengthen his resolve as he shredded the demon’s arm. In this form, there were few who could take him down.

Phrixis slammed him into the wall with the force of a Mack truck hitting him.

Fang felt his grip loosen under the assault. As the demon moved to grab him, he ran at his feet, skimming between his legs to emerge behind him. Rolling, he changed to human form so that he could grab the sword from the ground.

Phrixis turned to confront him.

The moment he did, Fang stabbed him through the heart. He buried the sword in to the hilt, then snatched it out and stabbed him again.

Phrixis laughed. “Do you think—”

Fang ended his words with a backstroke that severed his head completely from his body.

The demon crumbled slowly to the pavement where he landed in a lump as blood spewed out.

Fang spit at his remains. “Tell me again how great you are, asshole. Nothing like a steel enema to ruin even your best day.” His body weak and trembling, Fang leaned back against the wall as he struggled to breathe with his damaged ribs.

At least it’d been an easier kill than the demons in the Nether Realm. Panting, he pulled the phone from his pocket and called Thorn.

“It’s done. I killed him.”

To his shock, Thorn appeared instantly at his side. “What the hell did you do?”

“Nice attitude, dick.” Fang contracted the sword as he scowled at Thorn’s angry glower. “I killed the demon like you told me to.”

Thorn let out a sound that was a mixture of disgust and rage. His clothes turned from the navy business suit to bright red armor as his hair seemed to become flames. “I didn’t say kill him, dumbass. I said to send him back where he came from.”

“That’s what I did.”

Thorn kicked at the demon’s body on the ground and cursed. “No. You killed him.”

Obviously, he was missing a major piece of this puzzle because in his universe killing a demon wasn’t considered a bad thing. Most days, it was considered a public service. “In my world those two things are synonymous.”

Thorn sucked his breath in sharply between his teeth. He held his hands as if he were trying to restrain himself from killing Fang. “You know, it’s really not that hard to kill a demon, especially with the brand I gave you. Any half-witted preternatural creature can kill their ass. What I needed you to do was to return him to his realm. That’s a little more sophisticated and a hell of a lot harder.”

“Then why did you give me a sword?”

“Did you look at it before you used it?”

“Yes.”

Thorn gave him a doubting glare. “And I repeat. Did. You. Look. At. It?” He snatched the hilt from Fang’s hand and held the sword up for him to see the words inscribed there.

Strike hard. Strike fast. Strike thrice. Avast.

Who knew Thorn was a pirate? Fang squelched that thought. Avast was simply an archaic word that, no offense to the sword-smith, he hadn’t used even when it’d been popular vernacular.

But he couldn’t cut all sarcasm from his demeanor. “And in your world, Captain Scary, that would mean?”

“You hit him three times and then you stop. It’s in English. Hell, it’s in your English. You were born then.”

Fang gestured toward the demon’s now decaying body. “That was my third hit.”

Thorn covered his left eye with his right hand as if he had a vicious migraine brewing. “I have a tumor. I know I have a tumor. I just wish I were mortal so that it could kill me.”

Frustrated, Fang rolled his eyes at Thorn’s anguish. “I still don’t understand what’s so wrong with what I . . .” His words died under a wave of excruciating pain.

“Wait for it, wolf.” Thorn gestured sarcastically at him. “You’re about to have enlightenment. It’s about to suck to be you, mein freund.”

Fang cried out as the most blinding shaft of agony imaginable ripped through his entire body. It felt as if he were being torn in two. He couldn’t breathe or move. “What’s happening to me?”

“You’re absorbing the demon’s powers.”

“Huh?”

Thorn nodded. “Yeah. And not just the powers. Your soul is merging with the dead demon’s essence. All that he was is now intruding onto what you are. Demons are immortal without souls. When they die as it were, their life force jumps to the one who destroyed their body and it will try to take you over from now on.”

“So what are you saying? I need an exorcism?”

“No. There’s no body for him to return to. You’re stuck with him. Mazel tov!” Thorn said in an exaggerated voice of happiness. He sobered as his body returned to normal, except for his eyes. They were red with slitted yellow pupils that reminded Fang of a snake’s. “And it’s why we try real hard not to kill one. Not a pretty reality.”

Fang felt his vision changing. It became sharper. Clearer. The scent of blood permeated his head and he could hear it running not just in his veins, but Thorn’s.

“What’s happening to me?”

Thorn grabbed him by the shoulder and smiled cruelly. “That is the taste of evil flowing thick through your veins. Seductive and inviting, it will entice you from now on. And now you know why I’m a less than happy camper most days. There’s the battle I fight every second of every minute of my life. As I said, it now sucks to be you.”

Before Fang could stop himself, he vomited on the sidewalk. Gah, the indignity of that. Not to mention the pain of it as his insides felt alive—like they were writhing.

Thorn didn’t flinch in the least as he stepped back to give him space. “Don’t worry. Your guts aren’t coming out even though it feels like it. Your stomach will settle down eventually. However, that need you have for blood and death that is mounting inside you will never go away.”

Grimacing, Fang wrapped his arms around his stomach and leaned back against the wall to catch his breath. He tilted his head to look at Thorn. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“Honestly, I didn’t think in your current frail condition that you could kill him. I figured three whacks with the sword and you’d either be dead or he’d be banished . . . let me go back to the part where this particular demon had taken out some of my best in the past. I should have evaluated your abilities a little more accurately. My bad.”

“I hate you, Thorn.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “All creatures do and I really don’t care. By the way, your girlfriend is on her way back here to you. Try not to eat her even though the bloodlust is going to be hard to resist. You’ll most likely regret it if you do.” Then he was gone.

Fang slid down the wall, trying to get his stomach and nerves to settle. But it was hard. He still felt like he was being torn inside out.

Gods, what am I going to do?

Aimee appeared by his side a few minutes later as he leaned back with his head against the wall and his eyes closed.

“Fang?” Her hand was cool as she touched his forehead. “You’re burning up.”

His only response was to hold her hand against his cheek as the soft lavender scent of her wrist soothed him. But Thorn had been right, he could smell the blood in her veins and he wanted to rip her wrist open to taste it.

“Can you take me home?” he breathed, afraid to try his own powers right now.

“Absolutely.” She helped him to stand and it was only then that he realized the demon had disintegrated. There was nothing left except a vague black outline. Would that happen to him too if he died now?

Damn you, Thorn, for not telling me everything.

Aimee flashed them back to Fang’s bed and then helped him to lie down. “I’m going to get Carson.”

He grabbed her hand and held her by his side. “Don’t. There’s nothing he can do.”

“But, Fang—”

“Aimee, trust me. I just need to rest alone for a little bit, okay?”

He could see the debate in her eyes as he tightened his grip on her hand.

After a few seconds, she nodded. “You need me at all. . . .”

“I will call you. I promise.”

She patted his hand before she removed it. “All right. Rest well.”

Fang didn’t relax until she was out of the room. Only then did he lay back and give in to the conflicting emotions that lacerated him. He wanted to kill something.

Anything.

But he knew he couldn’t.

The only thing was, he didn’t know how long he’d be able to hold the demon in him at bay. By the feel of it, he was going to turn Slayer. True Slayer.

And that, in their world, carried a death sentence.

Date: 2015-02-28; view: 677