“You’ve been commanded to kill Erin?” I asked.
She shook her head. “You only.”
The Cougar trembled in my hold. “Then you hurt Erin voluntarily.”
“I was commanded to kill you by any means. Last night showed me I couldn’t do that while the human woman was with you. Or while that—” She spat at Mercy. “—was with you. If I could get them away from you, or you away from them, then I would have no trouble.”
“So you followed us tonight, saw Erin go off alone and decided to get her out of your way permanently.”
“It wasn’t me. Not really.” She picked at the flesh around the bullet wound in her shoulder. “I tried to get her car away from the road before the truck hit, but the imp swarm caught me and carried me away.”
I glanced at the imps. There were about a dozen of them, all fully grown. “I don’t believe this many imps could take you down so hard.”
“They have a venom that works against the greater demons. Individually, they are nothing. In a swarm, they’re very dangerous.”
Mercy kicked a couple of the dead imps at the demon.
“How did you survive the poison?” I asked as Mercy’s small acts of rebellion tickled my leashed rage.
The demon laughed. “I had help. That at least I can tell you. I’m not the worst thing you have to fear at the moment. There’s an even bigger demon than me hanging around.”
“A bigger demon?”
She nodded but before she could speak, her eyes widened and she stiffened. Mercy snarled.
As the demon faded, she shouted, “Solomon,” and then she was funnelled very abruptly into nothing.
“What the…?”
Mercy, demon-induced rage fading, faced me. “I think she got summoned.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Just before she disappeared a big, dark presence came here looking for her. It dug into her deep and then pulled her away.”
I stared at where the demon had disappeared. “Fantastic. Now whoever summoned her is going to know she spoke to us.”
“And?”
“And that means he and or she is probably going to want me deader even quicker.”
Amaya slumped in the middle of her circle and dug at the bullet in her knee. Fingers of pain burrowed through her whole leg and echoed in her shoulder. So close to a visit from Asmodeus and she had a few issues trying to decide what hurt and what felt good. Either way, her alternating groans of pain and moans of pleasure were disturbing her summoner.
“He found you?” he asked for surely the hundredth time.
“What can I say?” Amaya muttered. “I’m a succubus. Any red blooded male and a few red blooded women would walk over flaming coals for me.”
“He wasn’t supposed to find you. You were supposed to find him and kill him!”
“I know that, moron. Best laid plans and all that rubbish.”
She felt the bullet and ignoring the screaming nerves she brutalised in the process, got a grip on it and jerked it free. She flicked it against the barrier of the circle. It was worth the jolt of agony that rebounded on her to see him flinch.
“You could have warned me about the tame vampire,” she said as she began work on her shoulder.
That won her a moment or two of stunned silence.
“Vampire?”
“Yeah. You know, fanged beast of the night? Sucks the blood out of your neck. Hates garlic and so forth. Vampire. And Mr Night Caller has one fighting for him. If you’d bothered to summon me back last night, you would have seen the battered remains of what a vampire can do.”
Her summoner sat down so abruptly he was in danger of exposing his face. Tugging at the hood, he said, “But vampires don’t like humans. They’re more likely to kill them than fight alongside them.”
“True enough, but this one’s different. It’s… not normal.”
“How so?” The disbelief was gone, replaced by a probing need to know more.
“It’s relatively young, but has the powers of a creature much, much older. And it belongs to the human male. He is its master.”
“Like I am yours.”
“No. Vampires don’t have the mental capabilities of understanding free will.”
If he caught the jab, it failed to dig deep. “I was assured you would be able to give me everything I wanted, but apparently even a young vampire is too much for you. I should summon the spirit who gave me your name and punish it.”
Amaya had to laugh. The thought of this human punishing Lucifer was ludicrous. He obviously didn’t know who had given him her name. If he did, he wouldn’t have been making such claims. He probably wouldn’t have been able to form a coherent thought if he knew the Demon King had touched him, no matter how brief.
“Stop it!” he shouted and she shut up so fast she bit her tongue. If it hadn’t been for the spark of uncontrolled rage that cracked his voice, she would have continued to smile at least.
He didn’t like being laughed at. Hated it. It had the power to push him over the edge into rage.
“I’m sorry,” Amaya said, surprised when she realised she meant it.
“Not you’re not,” he snapped. “Demons aren’t sorry. They don’t care about us. They want only to use us to their own ends and then trample all over us when we’ve got nothing left to give.”
A shiver stole down Amaya’s wings. “You’ve been possessed before?”
“No. Not me.” He rolled his shoulders, as if throwing off an unpleasant memory. “But possession isn’t as bad as watching someone you respect give in to a bad influence of her own free will.”
He might summon them and use them, but her summoner hated demons. Hated what they had done to Geraldine, what they had made Geraldine do.
No. Not they. Him. Asmodeus. Lucifer had given her to this hurting, desperate man to be used against Asmodeus.
“What did he make Geraldine do?” she asked softly. She was his to command, not the other way around and he didn’t have to answer, but she tried anyway. This wasn’t just about murder and covering it up anymore.
“He didn’t make her do anything,” he whispered. “She could have stopped if she wanted.”
“But she didn’t want to,” Amaya said.
It all came down to want. Asmodeus was called the Lord of Lust and he definitely used sensuality as a weapon, but sex wasn’t what he dealt in. It was want and desire and need. Geraldine had wanted something and Asmodeus had helped her get it. But it was never a one way street with any demon, least of all Asmodeus. If he offered you the thing you wanted most, it wasn’t as a gift. There would be payment.
What had been the price of Geraldine Davis’ want? And had she paid it before Amaya had killed her?
“If you just told me everything I would be able to help you,” she said. “But I would need to be free to do it.”
He spun around and lashed at the circle of power around her. Amaya flinched, expecting a flash of pain from his impact with the circle, but there was nothing. Even in his anger, he managed to pull himself back before he could be burnt by the energy trapping her.
“As if I could trust a demon,” he snarled. “The only good demon is a bound one. Besides, there’s nothing left to do but kill the Night Caller before he can expose me. If I gave you another chance, do you think you could do it this time?”
She was saved from having to answer by a piece of bleak, electronic music sounding from beneath his robe.
“Damn,” he hissed, pulling a phone from somewhere about his body. “I have to take this.” He left the room, slamming the door behind him.
Amaya resumed picking at the bullet in her shoulder. So close after the first round of wounds, the imps and a visit from Asmodeus, it would take a lot of time and effort to heal. Since she suspected she wouldn’t get as much time as she needed, she had to get started as soon as she could.
Finally, the bullet in her shoulder gave in and popped out. Staring at the two misshapen slugs covered in her dark blood and strands of tissue, she wrapped her wings around herself and concentrated on healing. And yet she found she couldn’t slip into a deep enough trance.
Too many thoughts swirled around her mind, too many questions. It had been so much easier when she’d simply been after Hawkins. Even her guilt over the death of the human woman hadn’t been as bad as the confusion she now found herself in.
Somehow she had to find out what Asmodeus was up to and stop him. But once the barrier on her circle dropped, the Command to kill Hawkins would override any other thoughts and desires.
Pity, really. He had the strength to defeat her and that meant he had some chance against Asmodeus—well, more than the average human, at least.
Between the vampire child and the lurking darkness of berserker rage she’d felt in him tonight, he was not something to be taken lightly. And he’d listened to her while she was in her true shape, not some human guise. He’d been willing to stop his harassment and hear what she had to say, what she could say. She’d shouted about free will and it had caught him, as she’d hoped it would.
Now, if he managed to evade Amaya long enough to work out the clues she had given him, he might actually be of some use.
“Hey!”
She fell out of the minor trance she’d managed. “What?”
Her summoner leaned close enough that a faint touch of his face was revealed. Again, just the shape of his nose and jaw, and perhaps something that might have been stubble.
“You weren’t moving. Thought you might have died.”
The anger was gone. He was back to his calm, in-control self and she wouldn’t be able to trick answers out of him like this. He didn’t trust her with his overall plan, or his reasons for why he was doing this.
“I’m not that lucky,” she said, reverting to her bitter attitude. It was safe, neutral ground. “I was, in fact, trying to heal myself in preparation for being sent out on your bidding again.”
“So, you think you are capable of actually killing the Night Caller?” It was a taunt, a provocation meant to goad her into proving him wrong.
“I am capable of it.” She picked her words very carefully, not wanting him to add more emphasis to the existing Command. In the space of an hour she had gone from wanting to carry out the Command to desperately not wanting to. “But it’s going to take some time.”
“How much time?”
“I told you about his vampire. It will need to be disabled before I can reach him. And it’s very strong. I need to heal and recover my own strength before facing it.”
“Why not go after him during the daytime?”
Amaya glared at him. “I tried, but he rarely moves out of public areas during the day. So unless you want a very public, very messy murder to deal with, the vampire must go first.”
He grunted. “Fine. Whatever. You have two nights to finish him.” With a casual wave of his hand—he was starting to get quite good—he dropped the circle. “Heal and then tomorrow night do your best to kill Hawkins.”
Robe flaring, he swept from the room, pointedly locking the door behind him. Dork. Now she was out of the circle, locks wouldn’t stop her, but his commands would. He’d ordered her to heal, so she stretched out on the floor, all of her limbs outflung to their extremes. Thus she finally managed a healing trance.
When she woke up, her body felt whole and strong. Standing and flexing her wings, she felt a little resistance in them still, but they would suffice for what she had planned for today.
Pulling a cloak of reflective light around her, she left the room in the empty house and launched into the golden light of morning. Invisible to the human eyes all around her, she soared toward the sun. It was just warming up, but it was bright and glorious all the same.
Her birth realm was an unforgivingly hot and unrelentingly bright place. There was no such thing as night and no shadows—except those Asmodeus dressed himself in. Here, there was always refuge from the light and Amaya enjoyed that most of all. But there were times when all she wanted was the glaring brilliance of home. Flying into the sun was as close as she could get, and considering her only other option, it was more than good enough.
Amaya swam through the morning clouds, chilling herself delightfully. Then she exploded out above them and into the sunlight again. She coasted up there for a long while, soaking in the rays, feeling them reach into her very core and defrost the last vestiges of Asmodeus’ touch.
At last she felt ready to face the rest of the world. She arched her back, folded her wings and dived back through the clouds. Falling toward the city, she let it rush up to meet her. As she made out the various antennas and dishes on the top of a tall building she flared her wings and pulled up into a sweeping curve that skimmed her over the top of the building.
A flock of roosting doves scattered before her and she wasted a while giving playful chase. It was good to be flying again, unbound by slavery to the surface of the earth.
She hadn’t been able to fly while with Nick. He hadn’t allowed her any time free of his bonds. How could he? His command over her was accidental. She knew that. He had no clue about what he’d done. Amaya supposed she shouldn’t have been so pissed with him, in that regard, but it was hard not to be, especially after her first summons to Brisbane had forced Nick to relax some of his hold over her.
It was hard, now she was free, to think clearly about such things, to not be angry with the thoughtless regard he’d held for her. There had been no real appreciation in him for what she gave him—and unconscious understanding he didn’t actually have to work to keep her by his side. She was bound by his careless words the first night they’d spoken.
The saddest part was, now she understood just how he’d bound her, she couldn’t tell him. If she could make him understand, he would be horrified by what he’d done. He was a good man. He would undo the last strings that bound her to him.
Wouldn’t he?
Did she really know him? Two years she’d been his doting thrall but in that time, his commands had kept her blinkered from really seeing the true him. On the ship, she’d heard the crew muttering about him behind his back, cursing his rash decisions about where to put the cages, how to bait the sharks, how many divers to take on each trip. Saul would often rant and rave about Nick’s inability to be reasoned with. And all the while, Amaya had just floated about oblivious to what it all meant. Nick had been her focus, her reason. Nothing else mattered.
Would he understand? Or would he ignore the truth?
But it was all academic. She couldn’t tell him what he’d done. That command was still in place and as firm as ever. He would have to ask her directly before she could say anything.
Forcing Nick from her mind, Amaya left off chasing birds and lifted up higher where she could glide and let her mind wander further afield than down her own twisted paths.
She hadn’t been able to follow Hawkins back to his home, but she did know it was somewhere to the north. So she cast her thoughts that way, drifting along behind them, searching for a familiar touch.
Not long later, she found it.
Roaring south along a major road. She focused on Hawkins and raced to meet him. He wasn’t exactly hard to miss. The black car she’d seen the first night slipped and slid through the morning traffic with wild grace. She dropped down to match its pace. The windows were tinted dark, but she could make him out through the window.
He looked stern, much as he had when he’d confronted her in the empty house. Concentrating on something fiercely. Last night, it had been control of that dark, seething anger. Today, she had no idea. His mind was a blank. He’d dropped impressive seals over his thoughts. As he had yesterday when she’d sought him out.