Devil's Punch (22 page)

“I'll do it,” Chance said.

I touched him on the thigh. “Not happening. Nobody's bleeding for me. If I give my blood, they'll drink it in my presence. I'm
not
letting them store it for later use. And if they try to double-cross me, I'll set the queen on them.”

She growled in anticipation, pressing against her bonds, and this time it was all I could do to contain her. The mere promise of freedom and my body for her use? Her excitement pounded in my head like tribal drums.

“Are you sure you wish to pursue this path, Binder?”

“It's the only currency I have.”

“The Dohan may claim to own your especial favor later,” Greydusk warned, “if you choose to feed them from your own veins.”

“They can claim whatever they wish. Let them try to enforce it.” I didn't realize it until the icy words left my lips, but the dark lady was whispering them along with me in my head.

Now I wasn't sure where the sentiment had come from, where I ended and she began.
Oh, Shannon. What have I done?

I finished my drink. Afterward I remembered Greydusk telling me that food and drink consumed here would strengthen her hold on me. But we hadn't packed much from the human world, so I hoped my self-control was sufficient for the time it would take to get the information we required from the Dohan, maneuver on what they told us about the Hazo plans and their stronghold, and then execute our final move by liberating Shannon from the warrior caste. Oh, and then there would be Sybella and the Luren to deal with, and then I needed to devise an exit strategy.

No problem
.

Okay, maybe a few
.

The Imaron blew out the candle and led the way out of Club Hell. He wove a neat path through the writhing bodies. Butch flapped in our wake; the pseudo-quasit flew like a drunken bat and nearly slammed into the top of a demon's head several times, but he appeared to be having fun for the first time since our arrival. That counted for something, so I didn't yell at him to get down. Of course, if the spell wore off in midflight, I'd have a very sad dog on my hands.

On the street, the night had gotten colder as the moon rose, as if it streamed icy breath down toward us. I shivered and Chance drew me against his side. He laid a gentle kiss against my hair.

“Why wouldn't you let me help you?”

I knew what he meant. And it was complicated. I mean, I'd let Kel give his blood to the witch in Catemaco. But it felt different with Chance. I could accept it from Kel because it was his job. He'd been assigned to protect me, and he'd chosen a compact with the witch as part of his orders. I also thought Kel could protect himself from harmful spells. So maybe that was it. Chance seemed more vulnerable, even less at home in this fucked-up world than I was. I had to look out for him.

Greydusk pulled a little ahead of us as he walked, scouting, I suspected. If there was trouble, he would loop back and let us know. In the meantime, it permitted us to talk on the way to meet the Dohan. I wondered what they'd make of my eyes.

“I don't want you hurt because of me,” I answered at last. “You know how you said it kills you to see me taking crazy risks? I feel the same way about you.”

“You do?” Some of the tight, injured pride faded from his face.

“Yeah. God, Chance, you were the first guy I ever loved. You'll probably be the last.”

“I want to be,” he whispered.

A dark feeling came over me then. Like I could wrap him up in my arms, but it wouldn't be forever. No matter how much I wanted it, or how much I believed in his feelings. He was one man I couldn't keep.

Somehow, I pushed past the foreboding and blamed it on the demon queen fucking with me. I found the strength to tease. “You want it all with me, huh? House. Kids. The whole nine?”

Honestly, I expected him to panic. Instead, he stepped closer and in instinctive response I pressed into his chest. He wrapped his arms around me. Demons surged around us, muttering about uncontrollable Luren urges, but half of their ire contained an edge of envy. At least that many wished they were in Chance's arms instead of me, even here, where beauty came in forms so powerful that it doubled as a weapon.

He brushed my lips gently with his and said, “Yes.” Another kiss. “Yes.” Yet one more, this the deepest and longest of all. “And again, yes.”

“Did you just propose?”

He smiled. “Technically, I think you did.”

“But I was kidding.”

“Then I'll have to do it right…at a better time.”

If we made it out of Sheol, I looked forward to that day.

He went on. “Is that what you want too? A future with me?”

The old Chance had never been so direct with his questions or so plain in his intentions. I believed that he'd changed—or maybe it was more accurate to say he'd come back to the way he'd been with Lily, instead of the broken, guarded man he had been with me. On a street in Sheol wasn't where I'd have chosen to have this conversation, but a throwaway remark got us here. I wouldn't blow him off when he'd put himself out there.

“Yes. I love you, Chance.” It was time to say the words because he'd done what he set out to do—win my heart again. I was his, as much as I ever had been. Hell, the guy had stuck by me through this, through some super-crazy shit. It couldn't have been awesome to learn I had a demon queen rattling around in my head, but he wasn't running. He could've. Not home, maybe, but he could've said,
Okay, this is just too weird. This is where I get off the
crazy train.
But no, he took some time to process and then came back for more.

With more than a little regret, I broke away, as I wanted to make out with Chance for about an hour, but I didn't trust those urges. They might not belong entirely to me. The queen cackled quietly.
Can you trust your feelings at all, Binder? Maybe I'm making you love him too
.

“That's bullshit,” I said aloud.

Chance glanced at me, but he knew what was going on. His mouth tightened, but he didn't complain.
How much of his patient understanding belongs to him,
the queen wondered,
and how much to my consort?
This time I ignored her. Sighing, I hurried to catch up with Greydusk. Chance followed, his steps quick and light.

“All clear?” I asked quietly.

The Imaron nodded. “So far, so good. We have a clean run to the Dohan complex.”

As I recalled, each caste had territory in the city. “Where are we now?” Presumably his house sat within the boundaries of the Imaron sector, but Club Hell had been open to all castes, so it made sense that it would lie in neutral ground, so this must be…“The Barrens?”

“Very good,” he approved.

Chance asked, “How far?”

“About an hour's walk from here. There won't be much foot traffic once we leave the Barrens.”

“Will we be crossing through other caste territories on the way?” Man, I wished like hell I had a map. Or a guidebook. Or both.

“So we shall.”

“Is it dangerous?” Chance had his hands in his pockets, no doubt readying his gloves.

“Best to be on your guard.”

And so he slipped them on, flexing his fingers to ensure the perfect fit. I watched him, aching with regret, and I didn't know why. The demon queen laughed softly, mockingly, but she didn't speak. For the first time, I wished she would. Her insights might help us. Or destroy me.

Probably both.

“There will be checkpoints at each border,” Greydusk explained as we walked. “If we were in a sanctioned cab, we'd slip right past because for good or ill, people with the money to pay avoid scrutiny. It's assumed that if you can afford the fare, you have business in that zone.”

I thought of how homeless people got hassled in upscale neighborhoods. “Demons have that in common with us.”

“I imagine that's an uncomfortable realization,” Greydusk observed.

“To say the least.”

“Would it be smarter to take a cab?” Chance asked.

“It would be faster.”

I noticed the demon didn't say safer. There was a risk that instead of taking us to our destination, the cabbie would deliver us to someone who had put a price on our heads, if he saw through our makeshift disguises. So really it came down to speed versus caution and by the way they looked at me, I needed to make the decision.

“Call a cab,” I said. “The faster we reach the Dohan, the quicker we get Shannon.”

“I have a better idea,” Greydusk said. “If we care more about speed than running unnoticed—”

“We can take the Klothod carriage,” I finished.

The demon was already setting down the cube in the street, whispering the control words, and then whipped the vial out. In another couple of seconds, we clambered in. My skin didn't crawl this time. And that bothered me. A lot.

Greydusk said, “This conveyance is conspicuous. But we won't be stopped. And I suspect you want to reach the Dohan more than you wish to be discreet.”

“You got that right,” I muttered.

“Then we're off.”

The ride was…memorable. At this time of night, there was little traffic, and the pedestrians stopped to stare. Anyone who questioned them would get a detailed answer, I thought, but no matter now. I was committed. I had a blurred impression of the checkpoints, where demons watched us pass but did not attempt to interfere
with our progress. As Greydusk had said, anyone who could afford such a contraption was obviously powerful and not to be crossed.

At the Dohan compound, he spoke the command word again and the vehicle stopped. I hopped down, impatient, as the demon put away his unnerving toys. Pain surged in my head, a break, and then…

Shaking my hair out of my face, I decided it was not suitable that I should wear it loose. It decreased my dignity to have it flapping in the wind. Yet the Dohan would give me the information I needed. Or I would leave this place a smoking ruin.

I turned my gaze on my consort. Despite his lack of proper training, he stepped forward and offered his arm. I did not thank him, but I made a mental note not to whip him today.

Greydusk strode toward the front gate. He showed no trepidation, which made him a worthy minion. In the new regime, I would permit him a place at my feet. I might even raise him up as the Knight of the Imaron caste. Such things had been done, of course, but never without the support of the queen.

The demon touched a glowing panel. A voice responded, “Who seeks an audience with the Dohan?”

“Her Highness, Corine Solomon, the Once and Future Queen, now and forevermore, the Binder.”

That was a proper introduction. I offered an approving nod, and the Imaron swelled with pride. In so many ways, my kin were like helpless children, desperately in need of a firm hand. Fortunately for them, I had returned at long last. Soon enough, I would set my realm to rights.

To their credit, the Dohan did not keep us waiting. While I might not wear a crown—yet—they knew better than to alienate me. Despite their appetites, the Drinkers were cowards when it came to confrontation. Even trapped in this human vessel, I could still wreak a most satisfying havoc. They wouldn't risk my anger.

The gate swung open, and within awaited an honor guard. They fell in around me, but they were not a threat. We all knew it. I permitted them to encircle me because
I could have killed them all. I half wanted to make an example of the nearest Dohan foot soldier, but sometimes it was better to leave the danger as potential to be realized.

They escorted me through a dark and exotic garden and down the gilded hallways to the receiving room, where the Knight of the Dohan awaited. He was a slight male with a goatee, long nails, and bloodred eyes. He dressed for effect, all in black. And when he saw me, he fell to his knees. The rest followed suit, including the six who had escorted me from the front gate. I let the silence build. Left them on their knees. Let them remember the taste of terror thickening their tongues. Let them remember what it meant to displease me.

Then, when the fear had reached paralyzing levels, I said coolly, “Rise.”

The Dohan failed to do so with their customary grace, limbs stiff from kneeling on the hard stone floor. A smile curled my lips, and one took a step back. I lifted a brow. The knight cleared his throat and then gestured for the room to be vacated. It was reassuring to learn they had not lost all wisdom, or the lessons I'd taught in ages past.

“My queen,” Azon whispered. “So the stories are true. You are risen.”

I inclined my head. “Long have I been bound to the Solomon line, and at last it comes full circle. I return. Choose your course, Knight of the Dohan caste. You may follow me…and receive my favor. Or I will crush you here and now.”

It was not a choice. I never gave true choices. That would offer my subjects the erroneous idea that they had any control over their futile, wretched lives. And in Sheol, I held all the power.

Behind me, the Imaron and my consort kept silent. Their behavior pleased me. If either one dared put himself forward, I'd have executed him on the spot. They had gotten away with such behavior in private because I needed them for the time being. In public, my response to presumption never varied.

“There is only one answer,” Azon said reverently.
“You own us, my queen. Simply tell me what you would have and I shall see it done.”

The human girl scrabbled weakly, but I pressed her to silence. She'd had some ridiculous plan of offering her blood to gain their cooperation. I would never stoop to bribery. My will was sufficient to get what I wanted. It always had been. Like a worm, she squirmed at the back of my mind, too weak to wrest control from me.

“You will tell me everything about your business with the Hazo.”

It was a beautifully illuminating discussion. Afterward, I demanded accommodations suitable to my station, and I loved watching them scramble to please me. The Dohan had a style all their own, pretentious but elegant. The reason I had never favored them, however, came clear to me as I passed through a corridor swarming with quasits. The Drinkers were all too fond of the little pests.