Dark Hope (The Devil's Assistant) (25 page)

“What are we going to do with the bracelets?”

The demon visibly tensed. “Destroy them. I don’t need any of Mace’s kind of trouble here.”

“But they’re worth a fortune. Real
Hell
shackles.”

“Yeah, and they’re only good for finding her, or for him to find you if you keep them. I said destroy them
, unless
you want to explain why you removed them?” The demon lifted his brows as he threatened Luke.

I should have taken the bracelets and destroyed them myself, but it was too late now.

Gruff voices came from the back. The demon handed the bracelets to Luke. “Get rid of these.”

Luke shoved the bracelets into his pocket
,
then grabbed his coat and hat and headed out the front door. The buzzer sounded as the tough guys walked through the curtain.

“Why was she here?” the taller man asked without preamble.

“She was interested in this lovely item,” the demon said, holding up a brooch that had been in the glass case.

The tall thug gave him a level stare. The shorter man scanned the shop. “Where’s the old man?”

“He’s already left for the day,” the demon said cautiously. I didn’t blame him. Nobody wanted to get on Johnny’s bad side. “Look, I called you boys first. I could have called The Boss’s people.”

“This is a waste of time,” the shorter man said. The taller man nodded.

I relaxed as the two men got into their car and drove away. The bracelets were off, and Johnny’s boys had lost my scent. I was about to open my eyes when the demon picked up the phone. I waited a minute to see if he changed his mind about calling Mace. I doubted he’d call The Boss at this point.

“Yeah, you don’t know me, but I got some information you might be interested in,” the demon said. He was silent for a moment
,
then said, “The girl was down here. I let Johnny’s boys know, but that was before I knew she was marked by Mace.” Another pause. “I just thought you might like to know.”

He hung up the phone.

“Who did you call?” I asked. Would it have been The Boss? I gasped—or Mab?

He opened his mouth as if to say something
,
then closed it. For a second, I thought he saw me, but then the buzzer from the door sounded behind me. He crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing the new customer.

Opening my eyes, I returned to the alley and concentrated on the watch. “I need to find Junior.”

~ * ~

I rubbed my arms. The capri pants and tank top were fine for the Grand Caymans, but the sun would be down soon in Underworld, and the temperature was dropping fast.

The crowds were heavy on both sides of the street, which made the guy walking against traffic stick out like a sore thumb. I was shocked to recognize Omar as the wake of pedestrians drew closer.

I wanted answers. He had to know the truth. Why wouldn’t he have told me The Boss didn’t own my soul? I was about to yell his name when I stopped myself. What if he was Mace’s traitor? I couldn’t risk it, not when there was another way.

I glanced around
,
then ducked into the nearest alley. It was a dead end, but there wasn’t anything to hide behind. I sidled up to the wall a few feet from the main
street and
closed my eyes.

I blinked to the other side of the road, right behind Omar. His brisk walk against the flow was annoying a few in the crowd. His frustrated attitude wasn’t helping. “Move,” he bellowed at one fight fan.

The fan was at least a foot taller than Omar. He wore a red armband over his sexy as hell leather jacket. His eyes flashed red as he focused them on Omar who was dressed in his usual high school chemistry teacher style, which couldn’t have been less threatening. The fan puffed up his chest until Omar stopped, cocked his head, and glared at him.

The fan’s face went white. “Sorry, man,” he said, before bounding off the sidewalk toward the other street. A car horn blared, but the guy didn’t look. He kept moving, his hand clutching a woman who kept glancing back as if they were being followed.

After that, everyone gave Omar a wide berth. I kept my distance too. I didn’t want to take the chance that he could sense me.

Omar picked up his pace. He headed down another side street
,
cut across another main thoroughfare, before winding up on an avenue I recognized. He was headed straight for the blacksmith’s shop.

He didn’t knock; he just walked in. I jumped inside after him. The blacksmith was alone, pacing. The giant wasn’t around, and the sidewalk outside had been deserted. She jerked when Omar spoke. He was speaking Ancient. I didn’t understand it, but from her non-verbal cues, I could tell something was wrong.

She rubbed the back of her neck, nodding toward the office. The only words I could pick out were Mace’s name and mine. The conversation sounded
so
foreign. This was the first time I’d ever heard a full conversation in Ancient by speakers so fluent as to make it seem natural.

She jerked again when someone knocked on the door. She motioned for Omar to wait in the back room. I moved with him. So far he hadn’t sensed me.

“Enter,” the blacksmith said in English.

I peeked out from the back room. Wylan James bowed to the blacksmith and said something I didn’t understand.

“English, please,” she said to him. “You may understand Ancient, but you cannot speak it worth a damn, old man. I refuse to hear you butcher it.”

The blacksmith was no longer nervous. She was as strong and confident as she had been when Mace and I were here earlier.

“As you wish
,
my lady,” he said in English.

“Why are you here?”

“The blood,” he said. “The seer has seen it. He wishes for you to confirm its authenticity.”

“You’re not the first to arrive, but I will tell you what I have told all the others. There is no blood.”

James crossed his arms. “I have been contacted by more than a dozen. How can they all be wrong?”

“I wasn’t aware you were so influential among them,” the blacksmith said bluntly.

“They called once they saw I planned to come here. They wanted to make sure I knew how many had seen the truth.”

“This is not the first time they have been wrong,” she said, moving her hands casually behind her back and smiling in an innocent way.

“But this would be the first time so many have been wrong about the blood. You will not be able to hide the truth forever.”

Her smile faded. Obviously, her innocent demeanor wasn’t working on him. “You may go now.” Her voice was clipped and cold. “Do not return. You’re no longer welcome.”

James’s brow furrowed, but he bowed his head politely before leaving.

“He won’t be the last to come about the blood,” Omar said, returning from the back room.

The blacksmith replied in Ancient.

“Are you okay?” asked a voice that was so close I could smell the beer on his breath.

I opened my eyes when someone touched my shoulder.

Two druids were standing in front of me. The one touching me repeated, “Are you okay?” His buddy scanned the street, wiping his hand down his mouth.

I shrugged out of his hold. “I’m fine,” I said
,
then moved past the druids and headed for the arena. I glanced back a moment later, but they weren’t following me.

I made it a few more blocks before I slowed. I was too far away from the blacksmith’s shop to turn back. Omar was clearly more aware of my situation than I’d ever thought, but I no longer considered him Mace’s traitor. He didn’t know about Mace. He’d gone to the blacksmith because of the blood—
my blood
. Wylan James had gone there too.

You’re the one? You will save us?
the
voice reminded me of what James said.

The deli flashed in my mind. I remembered. He couldn’t believe I was the one, but what did it mean? I was too close to the arena to give up on my plan to stop the quads from killing Junior. My blood was another issue. One I’d have to figure out later.

I was making good time, until the crowds grew so thick there was barely enough room to stand. I was still six blocks from the arena.

The setting sun made the day darker and colder. I kept checking the watch, hoping it would take me down a less crowded side street, but no luck. I was headed right toward The Grand—where anyone who was anyone would be staying—and where I would find Junior.

The streets were blocked off. There were people everywhere. I was close enough to start worrying about how I was going to get in. Junior would have guards at the elevator, and I wasn’t dressed for the event. I wouldn’t be able to talk my way in only wearing capri pants and a tank top. I hoped the watch knew another less direct way in.

I stepped off the curb, about to cross the street, when a mob of Densmore supporters rushed into the crowd. “Densmore! Densmore!” shouted the purple armband druid fans.

Within a few seconds, the crowd swelled into an impromptu pep rally, and I was driven to the side by the mob. Resting, I waited for the group to pass. I caught sight of myself in a shop window. My bruises had healed, and my wrists were almost completely unmarked. Only the faintest red line remained. My black eye had finally faded. My physical pain was gone too. All things considered, I felt pretty good—better than I had in days.

The Densmore pack was thinning. I shifted to move into the flow of people when a familiar voice caught my focus. I slunk into the shadows. My heartbeat increased as I searched for the owner of the voice. My eyes watered, but I refused to cry. The voice was getting louder. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, but it was him. Jack. I would have known his voice anywhere.

Searching the crowd, I finally spotted him. A group of young demons walked my way. My beautiful, well-muscled, dark-haired human with ice-blue eyes ambled along with his friends. I say human because that was how he still appeared to me. He wore his most sinful blue jeans, the ones that hung so well on his hips I wanted to jump his bones when he was in them. His All-American bad-boy style was topped off with a white T-shirt and well-used leather jacket—the one with white racing stripes down the arms and a been-there-done-that amount of wear that made my mouth water. Okay, so maybe I’d ripped those jeans off him a time or two and had my wicked way with his sexy body while he still wore that jacket. I was the girlfriend. I had rights.

Past tense.

I forced back tears, refusing to cry. He didn’t fit in with the other demons, but I was the only one who thought that. Everyone else would see the real him. I wondered which demon traits he possessed. Would he resemble my Jack, or would his features appear too angular and intense? His veil was unnaturally strong, which was probably courtesy of The Boss. One of the girls moved back to walk beside him, draping her arm over his shoulders and whispering something into his ear.

“That bitch,” I grumbled under my breath. I took a step forward
,
then stopped when he smiled. It was his awkward smile. The one he had when someone said something that embarrassed him.

His veil flickered. Changing my mind, I dropped my gaze. I didn’t want to see the real Jack. I wanted my Jack.

I wanted to confront him. Ask him why he did it. I wanted to know if he cared at all, but I already knew the answer. I just didn’t want to admit it.

I waited for their voices to fade away, then I searched for him again. The same girl was standing beside him. He shrugged and her arm fell from around him. She moved over to another demon and draped her arm around him. Jack was walking alone now, with the group, but not close to anyone.

He came home early
, the voice whispered.

Yeah, because the fight was canceled.

He came home before the fight started
.

I recalled Saturday night. He’d come home with a movie we planned to rent and a tub of my favorite ice cream. That was the night he’d been different. He said he loved me, which he’d done before, but this time it felt different. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew he meant it. More tears ran down my cheek.

Thinking of that night brought back a flood of emotion. This wasn’t just a job for him. Maybe in the beginning, but not now. He wanted to be with me. I wasn’t wrong about that, and nothing Mace said would convince me otherwise.

I wanted to run to Jack, to go home with him, to be with him, but I couldn’t.

The
me of
that perfect night was already at home. I couldn’t change that without changing everything. I had to save Junior if I wanted any part of that life back. If I didn’t save him, that life was over.

I glanced at the watch, which was still pointing toward the hotel. The path was now clear. In the distance, I could still hear the druids chanting, “Densmore! Densmore!”

I lost sight of Jack as he headed away from the arena. He was going home. My heart wanted to follow him, but my head was going to win this round.

I had to save Junior—and myself—first.

Seventeen

The crowded lobby of the hotel did nothing to conceal me. In my plain-Jane clothing, I stuck out in a room full of designer clothes and elaborate up-dos. I moved behind a large potted plant when I spotted Jenny from the office.

She was one of those spreading rumors about Junior and me.

They’re not rumors if they’re true
, the voice said.

I ignored the voice, my subconscious or whatever this thing was in my head. It was starting to get on my nerves.

Only because you know I’m right
.

Why all of a sudden are you chatty Kathy
? I knew I would regret casting that spell.

I rolled my eyes when the voice didn’t respond. Shouldn’t my subconscious be on my side?