Alphas Unleashed (25 page)

“She’s not second-rate.”

He shrugged. “She’s good, but not half as good as she thinks.”

She gave him a long look, and he returned it in measure. Not human, she reminded herself. Not human at all. “You’d have to protect me from her, wouldn’t you?”

“Pack, would you? If you run out of anything or need anything extra, we can get it for you later.”

He gave her time to get rid of the food that would spoil while she was gone, and then they were back in his car and heading for the Bay Bridge and San Francisco.

Chapter 8

Palla lived on the top floor of an apartment building on Octavia Street in San Francisco. The lobby and elevator had all the charm the 1970s had ever managed. He was carrying her suitcase like it didn’t weigh anything when the sides were bulging because she’d shoved in everything she could think of.

The hallway to his apartment was as depressing as the elevator. It made her feel better that his place cost a lot more than hers without being any less solidly no big deal. Besides, she lived in an actual house while he had to make do in an apartment.

At the door, he touched a carved wooden medallion set above the frame. The back of her head tingled again. This reaction to him had set in right after his blood oath, and it was strange, her being able to tell when he was drawing on his magic. They went in, and the lights slowly came on. She walked forward to get a better look. Her eyes adjusted, and she didn’t even care what he thought.

His apartment opened to a room that overlooked the San Francisco Bay. She could see the lights of the Golden Gate Bridge to the left and the dark water of the bay in front of her. Behind her, she heard him set down his car fob.

The colors of the living room were blue and sea green and bronze, and there were glowing bronze stars painted on the ceiling. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of doing something like that at her place. His furniture was a mix of Stickley and Mission. And there was art on the walls, real art, with colors that said, hell yes, this is color. You never saw red until right now this minute.

“I want to live here.” The words went straight from her heart to her mouth.

“You have two weeks. Three tops.” He moved past her. “Enjoy it while you’re here. Guest room’s this way.”

“Can I live here?” He hesitated, then turned to look at her like he thought she was crazy. She shrugged. “You have a nice place.”

“I don’t want a roommate.”

The guy did not know she was teasing him. “How about if I cook for you?”

He started walking again. He opened a door about halfway down the hall. “I have a service. They do everything.”

“Accountant?”

“Bathroom’s there.” Her suitcase looked cheap and battered in this room.

“Look at this.” She turned in a circle. More stars were painted on the ceiling. She’d be able to lie in bed, maybe, and watch them. One of the walls was brilliant orange while the rest were linen white. The view was of Pacific Heights and the sweep downhill, which wasn’t as amazing as the living room, but still nice. She loved it. “Gofer? Car washer in chief?” She put her back to the window. “Window washer? Person in charge of thinking up insults you can use at a moment’s notice?”

He faced her. “You need a filter.”

Their ridiculous exchange had broken the ice. She wasn’t feeling quite as weird and unsettled and out of place, and he didn’t seem like quite so much of an asshole. “I like your place. It’s beautiful. I love everything about it.”

“You haven’t seen everything.” He touched something high on the wall, and she got a chill.

“I bet I love that, too.” She watched Palla walk the perimeter of the room, pausing before a series of carved wooden medallions set above the crown molding. “What are you doing?”

He pointed to one of the disks above the inside door to her room. “Adjusting the wards so you don’t get killed or worse if your magic goes off. They’re an early warning system. If anyone I don’t want here tries to get in and they have power, these will go off. “

“Like who?”

“Magekind who aren’t sworn to Nikodemus. Kin who aren’t sworn. Like that.” He faced her again and shifted his weight between his legs. “Are you too tired to work tonight?”

She assessed her state and cringed at the thought, but if he thought they should work, then they should. “I am all wound up right now, so no, I’m not too tired. But I don’t think I’ll last long.”

“Humans, and your need to sleep. Sucks to be you.”

“Make some tea and maybe we can more done.”

“Settle in, then come find me.”

“Sure.” When he was gone, she put her things away, took stock of the bathroom—
en suite
said all her favorite house shows—and then joined Palla in the living room. He handed her a mug of coffee. “What is this?”

“Caffeine.”

“I don’t like coffee.”

“It’ll keep you awake. You want sugar or milk?”

“Yes.”

He pointed to a table where he’d left a pint container of milk and a bowl of sugar. She doctored up the stuff and managed to drink about half before she was wide, wide awake and jittery as hell. By midnight she had a raging headache and had managed to dead drop him exactly once. For about three seconds. He was frustrated and back to being an asshole, and she was back to feeling like a failure.

“I can give back the money.”

“Not necessary.”

At one o’clock, he made her a pastrami sandwich that revived her spirits some. She was past tired now, and he was tireless because demons didn’t sleep. His oath to her kept him from another physical attack, and it was horrifying to realize that otherwise, he’d have had no compunctions about trying that again. She wanted to weep with relief when his phone rang.

“Palla.” He bowed his head and pressed three fingers to his forehead. Strange. “Yeah.” He walked to the window and stared out. “Tonight? Sure, but I have something going and need a couple weeks after. No problem. Consider it done. Me, too.”

She sat down and wondered if that was Randi and what the hell Palla saw in her besides talent and spectacular looks. She tucked her legs under her and took apart her sandwich so she could eat just the meat. If she ate fewer carbs, she might lose those ten pounds that kept nagging at her.

He put away his phone and said, “I have to go out for a while.”

“Booty call?”

“Don’t answer the door. Don’t let anyone in. See those?” He pointed to the wards he’d told her about. “If they go off, lock yourself in the bathroom and call that number I gave you.”

“Okay.”

“Remote’s there if you want to watch TV. It’s internet connected so you can stream anything.” He pointed. “Food’s in the kitchen. Help yourself to whatever you want.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

She gave him a big smile and spoke in her whitest voice. “Okay, sweetie. You be careful out there.”

“Fuck you.”

Chapter 9

Palla grabbed the other demon by the back of the neck and slammed him against the nearest wall. Every nerve he possessed went nova on him as his oath to Wallace triggered. Somewhere in the back of his brain, a voice shouted at him that Telos wasn’t going to hurt her. He managed to release his grip before he made things worse. “Hands off, asshole.”

“Palla.” That was Wallace behind him, with Telos Khunbish still in human form but drawing enough power to kill her. She sounded scared and worried, and her emotions sliced through him, white hot. One of the medallions along the wall popped. “Stop it.”

The other demon’s power flexed, and Palla tightened his grip. No way was Telos getting to her. No way. A medallion above them turned black. Pure reaction to Palla’s state. Ashes flaked off, a few, and then more and more until there was a steady rain of charred remnants.

Telos smiled, but not in a friendly way. “Dude. Calm the fuck down.”

A growl came up through his chest and reverberated in his throat. He was recently sworn to Nikodemus, and getting his fealty had been something of a coup, he kept hearing. Didn’t mean Palla wouldn’t kill him if he had to.

“Palla.” Wallace again, and it registered to him that she was fine. Nobody was after her. She was okay. All good. Telos wasn’t going to hurt her. He hadn’t hurt her.

He sucked in air, and Telos had the balls to ramp down his power even though Palla had enough on tap to melt metal. He didn’t take his eyes off Telos. “You okay, Wallace?”

“I’m fine.” She said that like she thought he was crazy to ask. Well, he wasn’t.

“It is a necessary question, Wallace.” He kept eye-contact with Telos. “Telos Khunbish is a fucking monster, don’t you forget it. He may look human, but he’s not. The reason he hasn’t tried to fuck you over is he knows I’ll kill him if he tries.”

Telos put a hand on the outside of Palla’s elbow and braced his other hand on the inside. “If you don’t let go of me in the next two seconds, I will break your arm. The old fashioned way.”

“You’re overreacting, Palla.”

She was right, but he wanted to punch someone. Needed to punch someone, only the danger was over—there hadn’t been any danger. Probably. He pushed away, hands fisted. Wallace was fine.

“I came here as a favor.” Telos was Nepalese or Tibetan, or something like that, and though Palla knew close to nothing about demons from that region, he sure as hell knew Telos wasn’t someone to mess with. “I said I’d work with your witch, and now you’re all bent about it? Not cool.”

He lifted his hands and took a step back. “I know. I know.”

“You could have warned me you were in that tight with the oath.”

“This is the first time it’s triggered.”

Telos looked over Palla’s shoulder to Wallace. “Congratulations, it works.”

“Great.” Wallace. Totally unhurt. “That’s great.”

Palla looked, too. She had one of those fake smiles going, and she wasn’t settled down. Her magic, if that’s even what it was, pulsed through the room. After all this time working with her, he recognized it. “Do not fucking work me, Wallace.” He craned his neck to look at her. “How the hell am I supposed to protect you if you interfere?”

Telos scratched his goatee. “What are you talking about? Can I ask that?”

Psychically, he opened himself to Telos, and the other demon reciprocated. In that shared mental space, Palla took stock of his state. Their connection meant he
knew
Telos meant no harm. A good thing. His oath to Nikodemus was in place and solid. The bond he’d made with Wallace was there, too, a swirling mass of white hot fever at the moment. You’d think there’d been a two-way blood exchange the way his oath had hooked into him.

“Whoa,” Telos said.

Yeah. He was way too settled down given the state of his oath to protect her. He ought to still be on high alert, because the source of the danger to Wallace was still here and still pissed off.

“She’s doing that?”

He glared at Wallace. “Stop it.”

“You were being an ass.”

“Do it to Telos. Make him feel like there’s nothing to worry about.”

That sense of something being wrong with her increased, and a few seconds before Telos said anything, they both felt the edges of her power, just not as the heat they were used to where witches were concerned. The last of Palla’s reaction to Telos melted away.

“Enough?” Wallace said.

“For now.”

Telos retied the ponytail of his long, dark hair. “Lady, that’s some serious shit you have going there.”

“Am I supposed to say thank you?”

“If you want.” Telos shrugged and stepped away from the wall. “It’s a fact though.”

“Thank you, then.” She gave Telos a genuine smile in that way she had that was part shy, part lit with joy, and unexpectedly hot. Whatever. She wasn’t Palla’s type. He knew what he liked, and nicely put together as Wallace was, she wasn’t it. He went for flashy in his women.

He hadn’t cut his link with Telos soon enough because Telos gave him a shit eating grin, and said, “Right. You just tell yourself that.”

“Anyone want a beer?” So what if Wallace was good looking? Nothing was going to happen.

“Sure,” Telos said. He lived with a witch, he wasn’t going to hit on Wallace, for fuck’s sake.

And he wasn’t going to sleep with Wallace. He headed for the kitchen. “I have Lagunitas IPA and Bear Republic Hop Rod Rye. Any preference?”

“Lagunitas,” Telos said.

“I’ll have the Hop Rod.” She put her hands on her hips. “Don’t give me that look. I am not in the mood.”

“You’re a lightweight.”

“I’m a grown woman.”

“I’m not curing your hangover later.”

In the kitchen, he concentrated on getting himself straightened out. He put the beers on the counter. And Jesus, now that she wasn’t working him anymore, he was feeling the aftermath of his oath. Hard. She was something. He could hear Telos and Wallace talking. Friendly. Fuck this. He wanted his work with Wallace to be going better than it was. She was working hard, he couldn’t complain about that, and she was making progress, but he wanted more progress. Faster. He needed to know she could do the needful no matter what they faced.