Pax Demonica (11 page)

“No,” I said, shaking my head slowly. My chest felt heavy, my throat thick.

“I can prove it,” she said.

“Bullshit,” Allie said, even as the girl slowly—as slowly as if I were a bomb about to go off—reached toward the collar of her shirt. “
Don’t
.” Allie’s single word came out harsh and full of dark promises.

“It’s okay,” I said.

“Okay? She could have a weapon hidden in her bra.”

But I’d seen the thin chain around her neck, and I was certain that it held something important. Something currently hidden beneath her shirt. “Let her,” I said. “Stay on guard, but let her.”

In front of us, Eliza had frozen. Now she continued, moving painfully slowly as she tugged on the chain and withdrew a small golden locket.

“Take it off,” I said. “Take it off and toss it here.”

“I’m not throwing it. It’s old. And it’s all I have left.”

I told myself I knew better. That I shouldn’t be taken in by the tears. But she looked at me with eyes that resembled Allie’s, and it was all I could do not to hold out my arms to draw her in. To comfort her.

I wanted to believe—and that scared me to death.

“Take it off,” I said, forcing an edge into my voice. “Put it on the ground, then back away five steps.”

She kept her eyes on mine, her teeth gnawing at her lower lip. Then she nodded—just one quick tilt of her head. Her hands reached back, slowly and easily, and she unfastened the necklace. Then she backed away.

All the while, Allie stood watching, her stance ready, her hand tight on the knife.

“Get it,” I said to Allie, pointing toward the necklace. She scurried forward, snatched it up, then delivered it to me. “Open it,” I said.

She hesitated, but I nodded. Whatever was in that locket affected both of us.

As I kept my eyes on Eliza, Allie slid her fingernail down the locket seam. She pulled the two heart-shaped sides apart, and I heard her sharp intake of breath. “Mom,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper.

I glanced down—then felt my heart twist at the two images that filled up the spaces in the locket. Two women. One who looked remarkably like the girl standing in front of me. And the other so familiar that I might have been looking in a mirror.

“Where did you get this?” I asked. My voice was harsh. Raw. Unrecognizable even to my own ears.

“Mom?”

But I ignored Allie, instead taking a step toward the girl. It was midafternoon, but I felt lost in the dark. I was a grown-up. A mother, a wife. But I felt four years old all over again. “
Tell me
,” I demanded. “Tell me where you got this.”

I could barely speak through the tears that rose in my throat, and I felt suddenly weak. A cold anger rose all around me, and I wasn’t sure if it was directed at the girl, at the woman in the picture, at
Forza
, or at the twist of fate that had left me an orphan. All I knew was that the foundation of the earth had been yanked out from under me and I was tumbling fast through space.

I don’t remember falling to the ground, but the next thing I knew, I was on my knees.

I’d lost my grip—and thank god Allie was there to take charge.

I don’t know when she’d managed it, but she’d left my side and crept up close to Eliza. Now she moved with remarkable swiftness and got her knife up against the girl’s throat.

“
Allie
.”

“No,” she said fiercely. “No, we do this smart.” She licked her lips and lifted her chin, and I saw guts and determination. Right then, she was taking care of me—and we both knew it.

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay,” she repeated with a sharp nod. “We’re going back to the B&B. We’re going back and we’re going to figure this out. And you,” she added, taking the knife away but poking Eliza with her finger, “you are coming with us.”

I may have been unsteady,
but I got to my feet. Allie was doing great, but no way was I allowing her to run this show. If Eliza was a risk, I didn’t want Allie at the front line any more than she already was. And if Eliza really was family—well, I wanted to hedge my bets.

I waved my fingers, indicating she should come over. She did, albeit tentatively, and with Allie practically glued to her side.

“You may be who you say you are,” I acknowledged. “But I’m not taking any chances. Arms up,” I said, and when she complied, I patted her down. I found a razor in her bra—score a point for Allie—and a switchblade tucked inside her ankle-high boots. Other than that, she was clean.

I slid the switchblade into my pocket and the razor into my purse. “All right,” I said, heading out of the alley to circle back around to the restaurant—and to Stuart and Timmy. “Let’s go.”

“Mom,” Allie said, and I could hear the question in her voice plain enough.

“We have to tell him,” I said by way of answer. “We have to tell him everything.”

I don’t know if Eliza understood that I was talking about my husband, or if she was even curious. But to her credit, she stayed quiet. When we arrived back at the café, Stuart was bent over and strapping Timmy into the stroller.

“Jesus, Kate,” he said, his expression a mix of relief and irritation. “I was just about to call the embassy. Either that or. . .” He trailed off with a shrug, his eyes narrowed at Eliza. But it didn’t matter—I knew well enough the word he didn’t speak.
Forza
.

“That second option would have been the right place to call,” I said wryly as I looked pointedly at Eliza. “Apparently this is going to be more of a working vacation than I’d planned.”

“Oh.” His eyes darted from me to Eliza. “Is she a—you know?”

It was a good question, and I suddenly felt like a bit of an idiot since the possibility that Eliza was a demon hadn’t occurred to me before. Just another clue that the girl’s claim that she was family had messed me up more than I wanted to admit.

I started to say that I didn’t think so, but couldn’t be sure, when Allie whipped out the spray bottle of holy water I keep in Timmy’s diaper bag and squirted Eliza in the face.

All around us, the restaurant patrons’ eyes widened, and I was pretty sure I heard someone mutter “Crazy Americans” in muffled Italian.

But since crazy Americans come to the Spanish Steps all the time, we weren’t worth more than a cursory glance, especially since Eliza’s skin didn’t start to sizzle and pop.

“Wow,” Eliza said in a voice that dripped sarcasm. “That was pretty refreshing on such a hot day.”

I aimed a frown toward Stuart. “No,” I said. “Not a you-know-what. Which is good,” I added. “Because I think she might be my cousin.”

His eyes widened with surprise, and I steeled for—for what?

I didn’t know, but I immediately felt guilty because my expectation was that Stuart would muddy the waters and make an already tense situation even more uncomfortable.

He didn’t, though. Instead, he stepped up to the plate.

“All right then,” he said, dropping a wad of euros on the table to cover the minimal check. “In that case, let’s get somewhere we can talk, and we’ll figure out just exactly what is going on.”

“The B&B,” Allie said.

“No,” Stuart and I said together. I cocked my head and smiled at him, feeling a bit like maybe, just maybe, we were becoming a team.

“Um, why not?” Allie asked.

“If she’s not who she says she is,” Stuart said, “we don’t want her knowing where we’re staying.”

“It’s not like they don’t already know,” Allie said and then winced as Stuart narrowed his eyes at me.

“
They
?” he repeated.

“Sorry,” Allie said.

“Kate?” Stuart’s voice was rough. And, I thought, just a little hurt.

“I’ve been meaning to bring you up to speed,” I said. “There are a few things to tell you.”

“I see.”

I bit back a grimace. Yes, I was definitely hearing hurt and anger.

To Stuart’s credit, he sucked it up and pressed on. “Maybe
they
do know. But that doesn’t mean we need to advertise our location any more than necessary.”

From beside Allie, Eliza let out a long-suffering sigh. “Oh, give it a rest. We might as well go back there. It’s not like I don’t know already know.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Oh, really. Where, then?”

“Well, duh,” she said, with an Allie-like roll of her eyes. “You’re in the room next to mine.” She dropped that bombshell at the exact moment that Timmy grabbed the tablecloth and gave it a tug, sending all the plates and cutlery clattering to the ground.

Honestly, this was not one of my better days.

I glanced toward Stuart, who looked more irritated with me than he did with our son. To be honest, I can’t say I was surprised.

“Soon
,” he mouthed to me, and I nodded, feeling chastised and guilty and confused. The guilt came from the simple knowledge that he was right. The confusion from the sudden and unpleasant realization that although I told myself that I wanted and hoped for Stuart to be an active and willing participant in this unusual life of mine, when it got down to the wire, I really just wanted to go it alone.

Except that wasn’t true either. More and more, I wanted Allie at my side. And the deep, dark, completely honest truth was that despite everything that had happened with Eric, he was the partner I truly wanted watching my back.

For so long, I’d feared Stuart’s reaction when he learned the truth about me. Because when I’d married him, I’d simply been Kate. Not Kate the Demon Hunter. Just Kate the single mom, trying to get past her grief and get on with her life.

Considering he’d left—twice—I’d been right to worry. But maybe it wasn’t Stuart’s reaction I should have been focused on. Because while Kate the Wife and Mom loved Stuart unconditionally, Kate the Demon Hunter would never have fallen in love with Stuart in the first place. And with every moment that we were back in Rome—with every memory and every danger—that unpleasant and horrible truth was bearing down on me.

And, yes, I could keep running—could keep looking in the opposite direction and hope that it would go away. But eventually, I knew that I would have to deal with that, and I wasn’t sure I knew how. I could drive a spike through the eye of a demon to save myself and my family. But how the hell did I save a relationship?

My thoughts meandered through those dark hallways as we walked the brightly lit streets of Rome. Me, two teenagers, my husband, and our toddler son. If Stuart knew the direction of my thoughts, he hid it well. He concentrated on pushing the stroller and keeping his eyes on Eliza. He was alert and focused, and in that moment I thought that maybe it would all turn out okay. That maybe he could be an asset, even if he wasn’t a full partner.

I frowned, wondering if I’d discovered the source of my hesitations. Maybe it wasn’t that I didn’t want to be Kate the Demon Hunter with Stuart. Maybe it was that I was afraid of losing him altogether if he became drawn into this life. Pushing him away might hurt, but in the end it might just keep him alive.

He glanced at me and his brows lifted when he saw me watching him. He shot a meaningful look at Eliza. “Problem?” he whispered.

I shook my head. “No. Just thinking.” I reached for his hand. “I’ll tell you later.” And as I spoke those words, I knew that I meant them. Whatever dark thoughts about my marriage were circling my head, my husband had a right to know. Maybe they’d hurt. Maybe they’d help. But I owed the truth to this man with whom I’d exchanged sacred vows.

We walked two by three. The girls in front, where I could keep an eye on Eliza, and Stuart and me in the back with Timmy rolling along in front of us, powered by Stuart’s push and the wheels of the stroller.

Despite my wandering thoughts, I was keeping a close eye on Allie and her companion. Close enough that I saw the dark-haired demon from the market a full two seconds before she tackled Eliza from the side, landing on top of her—a knife to her neck—and sending Allie sprawling.

Those two seconds saved Eliza’s life. I leaped forward, then thrust out with my foot. My comfy Keds intersected with the woman’s wrist, sending the knife flying and Eliza’s attacker reeling sideways.

Eliza gasped and took the opportunity to scramble backwards, crab-like, even as Allie lunged for the knife. “Mom!” she cried, tossing it to me.

I was already over the woman’s chest, my legs pinning her arms to her side. I released my grip on her neck long enough to catch the knife, then started to thrust it down toward her eye.

“
Kate!”

Stuart’s cry startled me, giving the demon the opportunity to lurch up. Her forehead connected with mine, and I rocked backward. She jerked her arms free, then shoved me back. “Fool,” she snarled as she leapt to her feet and bolted.

Allie started to run after her, and I held off on cursing Stuart to yell for her to stop.

“But Mom!” she protested, skidding to a stop.

“Let her go,” Stuart said, before I could get a word in.

“What the
hell
were you thinking?” I demanded.

“Me?” he asked, sweeping his arm out to indicate the crowd that had gathered around us. “I’m really not interested in posting bail in Italy. Especially since I’m not even sure if you can post bail in Italy.”

Shit.
He was right, of course. I’d been so caught up in the moment—the attack, the possibility of losing Eliza before I knew her story, the whole damn thing—that I’d completely ignored the fact that we had an audience.

“Right,” I said. I climbed to my feet and held out a hand to help Eliza up. “Right. Sorry. You’re right.”

Stuart came up and took me in his arms. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered.

I tilted my head back to look at my husband—and desperately wished that I believed him.

Chapter 10