CHAPTER 8

 

 

An hour of fruitless searching later, Eve parked her car in her assigned spot in her condominium complex’s parking garage. With her hands wrapped around the steering wheel, she refused to look at the empty space where Alec’s Harley had been when she left. He might be gone for five minutes or five years or forever.

The first time they made love, he’d disappeared before she awoke. She’d waited in their hotel room all morning. Tired. Sore. Madly, stupidly in love. She had believed he intended to come back for her. No man could hold a woman as he’d held her and not return.

In the end, she’d left only when the maid told her she would have to pay for another night if she didn’t vacate.

Days of waiting and hoping and heartbreak followed. Weeks passed, then years. She wanted to kick herself for being in the same spot, feeling the same pain ten years later. Smart people learned from their mistakes; they didn’t keep making the same ones.

A sudden rapping on her car window jolted her out of her musings. Frightened, she looked out the window and found Mrs. Basso leaning over with a frown.

“Eve? Are you okay?”

Her tense shoulders sagged with relief. She pushed open the door. “You scared me.”

“You’re jumpy today.” Mrs. Basso held mail and keys in her frail hands. The mailboxes were all located on the ground floor, just a few feet away from the parking garage.

Climbing out of her car, Eve managed a reassuring smile. “I have a lot on my mind.”

“I bet part of it is six foot two and around two hundred pounds.”

Eve blinked.

“He was looking for you,” Mrs. Basso said. “Seemed really concerned that you were gone.”

“Did he say where he was going?” Or if he’d be back?

“No. He had a duffel bag with him though. Don’t fret. If he’s got a brain, he’ll be back. You’re worth it.”

Touching Mrs. Basso’s shoulder gently, Eve kissed her wrinkled cheek. “Thank you.”

“Come on, I’ll walk up with you.”

Depressed by the prospect of returning to her empty condo, Eve briefly considered heading to her parents’ place but didn’t think she could deal with her mother at the moment. Some days, her mom’s quirkiness was just what the doctor ordered. Most days, however, it drove her nuts. Since she was already on the edge of insanity, she thought it best to keep her distance for now.

Eve shook her head. “I think I need to walk a bit and clear my mind.”

“I would feel better if you came upstairs. You’ve had a rough week.”

Eve laughed softly, without humor. She wished she could explain. Part of her believed her friend would understand. “I won’t be gone long. Just a few minutes.”

Mrs. Basso sighed. “Okay. We still on for the movies?”

“You betcha.”

She watched Mrs. Basso head to the elevators, then left the building through the garage’s pedestrian gate.

It was a beautiful day and the number of sunbathers on the beach gave her a feeling of security. Too many witnesses. Which was both good and bad. The exposure that kept her safe also exposed her when she most wished to be private.

As she walked the length of the beach, she kept her head down to discourage interaction. She was too busy thinking to be interested in casual conversation. If she wanted out of this mark business, she’d need something of value to bargain with.

The wind whipped loose strands of her hair across her face and throat. Her heightened senses magnified the sensation until it was almost unbearable. Not in an uncomfortable way, just alien. Disconcerting.

She’d always controlled every aspect of her life, even as a kid. Her mom, a native of Japan, was an eclectic mix of old-world Bushido and 1970s hippy nonchalance, and her Alabama-native dad was so mellow, she wondered if he was awake half the time. A twenty-year employee of the phone company, Darrel Hollis’s normal tone of voice was that of a terminally bored telephone operator. In response to her parents’ loving indifference, Eve had become self-reliant and responsible to an extreme degree. Everything had its place and could be neatly compartmentalized. Interior design fit beautifully within that structured way of thinking. Assassinating monsters for God didn’t.

“Hey, baby.”

The catcall drifted across the breeze along with a vile stench. As her nose wrinkled in protest, her head turned to find the heckler. Some were easily ignored, others bolder. She needed to know which class of annoyance this guy was.

She found him sitting in the sand on a black towel, his legs stretched out before him, propped up by canted arms. He was fair haired and blue eyed, and sported arms sleeved in tattoos. His face bore a foreign cast, and his irises were hard and glittered like sapphires. He wore only makeshift shorts cut off crudely below the knee and a leer that made her skin crawl.

“Come sit with me,” he cajoled in a gutturally accented voice. He patted the spot next to him in a gesture that was anything but inviting. An indigo teardrop stained the skin at the corner of his eye, distinguishing him as a felon. She was about to look away when he flicked his tongue at her in a lewd gesture.

“Jesus!” she cried, stumbling backward into the lapping water. She was so horrified by the impossibly long and slender forked appendage that had slithered out of his mouth, she barely registered the mark burning her deltoid in chastisement.

A red slash appeared across the demon’s face and he hissed like the snake his tongue resembled. “Du Miststück!” he spat.

She had no idea what that meant, but it didn’t sound good.

As he leaped to his feet, Eve sidestepped to avoid him. “Stay away from me.”

“Make me.”

The menacing tone with which the words were spoken made her hackles rise. It also sent a surge of heat and animosity through her veins. “Christ, you’re a real piece of work.”

His head jerked to the side as if struck, and when he looked at her again, his eyes were unnatural. Brilliant and intensely, inhumanly blue. He lunged. She shrieked and pivoted to run, crashing into something warm and rock-hard.

“Leave her alone,” a dark voice warned. Masculine arms wrapped around her and Eve struggled briefly before absorbing the familiar scent of his skin into her lungs. It was heaven compared to the stench in the air and she gulped with relief.

“Reed.” Her hands fisted in his expensive dress shirt.

“You can’t intercede,” her tormenter said smugly.

“You’d risk the wrath of your brethren for her?” Reed asked.

“She cut me first.”

“I did no—” Eve began, only to find her face pressed brutally into Reed’s chest. She briefly considered biting him, but her overactive libido kicked in with a vengeance, mingling with the hair-trigger aggressiveness pumping from the throbbing mark. It was like PMS multiplied by a million.

“She was toying with you,” Reed drawled. “Assuming you were big enough to take it.”

“Is she big enough to take it?”

“Can you take me?” Reed retorted. “You’re not in the queue; I’m not barred from stepping in.”

A stream of unintelligible words that sounded German poured from her antagonist, and Eve wrenched free to face him. She could feel the evil radiating off him, and his tattoos writhed sinuously over his unmoving skin, as if they were alive.

Wondering if she was the only one aware of the man, her gaze surveyed the area around them. The proliferation of beachgoers hadn’t diminished, yet no one paid any attention to the tense scene taking place in their midst.

Reed’s hand settled at the small of her back, giving her much needed support in a madly spinning world.

“Go away,” Reed said. “Let’s just forget this happened.”

“I won’t forget.” The man crossed his arms. “We’ll meet again,” he told Eve.

“You cross that line,” Reed warned, “and you’ll start a war none of us wants.”

You don’t want it.”

Eve’s gaze shot back and forth between the two bristling men, trying to grasp the undercurrent arcing between them. They were doing some kind of manly staring thing, then the blond sank back onto his towel and sprawled in a pose so relaxed it was clearly meant to insult.

You’re no threat to me, his posture said.

 Reed exhaled slowly and carefully, deliberately stemming his rising ire. Backing down from a challenge wasn’t in his nature, but he didn’t have a choice. Any offensive move on his part would put the blame for this unauthorized confrontation firmly on his shoulders. He didn’t need any more heat right now, not after the upbraiding he’d endured for his most recent fight with Cain.

Cain the hero. Cain the fearless. Cain the invincible. No matter how often he broke the rules, Cain always emerged unscathed, his reputation strengthened by his sheer audacity.

Now Cain had been given his heart’s desire and Reed’s sampling of her charms was rebuked, his protestations of her willingness disregarded. He, who had always toed the line without question, had rarely been given anything he truly desired.

Hands off Evangeline, he’d been told.

Tightening his jaw, Reed reached for Eve’s elbow and pulled her away. Damned if he would toe the line in this. If he had to reap his own rewards, he’d start with her.

“What the hell is going on?” Eve queried on a hiss of breath.

“A major fuck-up,” he snapped. “Where’s Cain?”

“Sleeping. And why do you two have different names? It’s confusing.”

“Eventually, you will have to change names, too. It looks suspicious if you don’t die.”

“Screw that.”

He led her up the beach. At the last minute, he directed her toward the patio of a Mexican restaurant and cantina. Festive music blared from hidden speakers and the spice-laden scent of food teased his nostrils. He heard Eve’s stomach growl and shook his head. “You haven’t eaten?”

“I haven’t thought about it. By the way, I don’t have any cash and the patio is closed to noncustomers.”

He shot her an arch glance. “I don’t expect my dates to pay when they’re with me.”

“This is a date?”

“It is now.”

“I’m not feeling it. Not after that creep on the beach.”

“He was a Nix,” Reed corrected. “And you need to watch your mouth. If I hadn’t shown up when I did, you’d be dead right now.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Eve sank into the plastic patio chair he pulled out for her. Their table was in the corner formed by two Plexiglas panels. It afforded them a view of the beach while shielding their food from the ocean breeze and sand.

“You used the Lord’s name,” he explained, taking the chair opposite her. “It’s a weapon against demons. Rarely deadly but always painful.”

“How the hell was I supposed to know that? He was heckling me. If he’d left me alone, none of that would have happened.”

“You’re ripe for the picking. An untried, clueless Mark. I could kill Cain for falling asleep on the job.”

He snorted. “Irresponsible, as usual.”

“What’s a Nix?”

He noticed she chose to ignore the dig about Cain, and he smiled inwardly. The first time he saw her, Eve had been dressed for business. Her unbound hair had been the only hint of softness about her. Her “look but don’t touch” air had stirred him, but it was the moment their eyes met that his interest went beyond merely pissing off Cain. Whoever said Asian women were shy and reserved had been smoking something at the time.

“A water demon.” Reed gestured to a waiter. “The Nix used to be concentrated in Eu rope, but they’ve since spread to most coastal cities.”

“He didn’t look like a demon,” she muttered.

“What does a demon look like?”

“Not like that. Aside from the freaky tattoos, he reminded me of a ski instructor, like he should be wearing a turtleneck and sitting near a stone fireplace at a lodge.”

“You’ve got a vivid imagination.” His mouth curved. “But those weren’t tattoos. They were details—markings that tell us about his affiliations and his status within those affiliations.”

“Like gang markings?”

“Exactly. Even in Hell there’s a hierarchy and it’s constantly under threat by warring factions. Infernals most likely passed on the practice of marking symbols into flesh to mortals.” Reed looked at the approaching waiter, a young Latino wearing Oakley shades, hoop earings, and an El Gordito apron tied around his jeans-covered hips. “Two Modelos,” he ordered.

“And two shots of tequila,” Eve added.

“That’s not going—”

“To get me buzzed? I don’t care.” She managed a brief smile at the waiter. “And a taco plate, please. With lots of salsa. The hot kind.”

“Make that two,” Reed said.

Eve waited until they were alone again before speaking. “The guy’s details were moving. Writhing.”

“He was trying to intimidate you.” And it hadn’t worked well, something Reed noted and admired. “Infernals can move them at will, and only others of their kind and Marks can see the show.”

“That’s why no one paid much attention to him on the beach?”

“Exactly. Some Infernals prefer to keep their details as visible as possible, especially if they’re higher ranking. Others prefer to keep them out of sight to maintain a low profile. They can’t remove them, but they can put them in places no one wants to look.” He shrugged elegantly. “Pointless, really, because they stink so bad you can smell them coming. And when their number’s up, it’s up. Hidden details or not, once they’re in the queue, it’s only a matter of time.”

“Is that what that smell was? It reeked like a sewer.”

“Rotting soul. You can’t miss it.”

Her eyes widened with such horror, Reed felt a sharp tinge of sympathy . . . even as he appreciated how her inevitable resentment would create a rift between her and Cain.

Eve leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table and staring at him with a grimly determined gaze. “How do I get out of this gig?”

“There’s no way—”

“I don’t believe that. There has to be a way.”

Leaning back, he settled more comfortably into his chair. “Why?”

“Because I feel like a victim, that’s why.” Her jaw hardened. “And I’m not the type to take it lying down.”

“A victim.” He stilled at that.

“Wouldn’t you feel the same in my shoes?” she challenged.

Maybe. Probably.

“You’ve been placed in a position of power,” he prevaricated, “and given the tools to change the world and make it safer for others. Can’t you view this as a blessing rather than a curse?”

“The Mark of Cain is a blessing? You’re slick, but not that slick. And I’m not stupid.”

“Slick?”

The waiter returned with a tray bearing two bottles of beer, two shot glasses, and chips and salsa. Eve sat back to make room. Reed continued to watch her, smiling.

“The clothes. The cockiness.” An impatient hand gesture encompassed him from head to toe. “Slick.”

“Style and confidence, babe. I happen to like both qualities.” His voice lowered. “So do you.”

She shook her head, but the look in her eyes gave proof to his statement.

Reed reached over and caught her hand. Her fingers were long and slender, her skin soft as silk. That would change. Wield a weapon often enough and it left its mark with roughened flesh. “You don’t have to admit it.”

“I won’t.”

He bared her wrist, then lowered his head. As his lips parted and his tongue stroked across her vein, Eve watched in helpless fascination. He could smell her growing arousal and knew she’d be hot and wet. Her recently acquired hyperactive sex drive was a godsend to his plan to have her again, no pun intended. Restraint was difficult the first few years. The heightened senses and fluctuating emotions were killer until one learned to control or ignore them. The best and fastest way to release all that tension was with long, hard sex. Reed was determined to be the man Eve turned to as a pressure valve.

Straightening, he kept his gaze locked with hers. He reached for the salt with one hand, slowly stroking across her palm with the thumb of the other.

“Where is this going?” Her normally clipped tone was softened by hoarseness.

“To bed.”

“Not with me.”

He smiled and sprinkled salt over her damp skin. Picking up a shot glass, Reed licked her wrist and tossed back the tequila.

Eve handed him a slice of lime. “You’re not here to get laid.”

“How can you be sure?” He bit into the tart pulp with relish.

“You’re the type who likes to be chased, not do the chasing.”

“You don’t know me as well as you think. But that’ll change.”

“I told you, I want out.” With an offhand toast, Eve downed her shot and chased it with a long swig of the beer. She growled. “Okay. This sucks. It’s like drinking water.”

“You can’t bargain with God, Eve.”

“You can bargain with anyone, as long as you have something they want that they can’t get anywhere else.” She turned her head, her gaze moving to the strip of street visible from her position.

His glance followed hers. Sport-utility vehicles traveled alongside luxury sports cars. Joggers and in-line skaters weaved in and around each other.

“Are some of those people . . . Infernals?” she asked.

“Certainly.”

She glanced back at him. “They coexist peacefully with the rest of us?”

“If you call living with greed, depression, murder, and lies ‘peaceful.’” Reed tipped his bottle back and drank deeply. “Complete destruction of humanity isn’t the goal. They need mortals for entertainment.”

“Lovely.” She exhaled sharply. “You mentioned a queue?”

“There comes a point when an Infernal crosses the line one too many times.”

“They have to cross a line first?”

“We’re not vigilantes,” he said, chuckling. “We can’t go around whacking the bad guys for the hell of it. There’s a balance to everything. A yin and a yang, if you will. Orders have to come down. Once that happens, all bets are off.”

“And then what?”

“The Mark nearest in location who has the necessary skills is dispatched to take them out.”

“Who makes that call? God?”

“The Lord assigns Cain directly. The seraphim manage everyone else.”

Her lips pursed and he could practically see her curiosity. When she finally said, “Tell me how it works,” Reed’s answering smile was indulgent.

“Relating it to the human judicial system might make it easier to understand. Every sinner has a trial in absentia and the Lord presides over every case. Christ acts as the public defender. Clear so far?”

“I watch Law and Order.”

“Okay, good. If there’s a conviction, one of the seraphim send the order down to a firm to hunt the Infernal.”

“A firm?”

“Think of it as the bail bond agency. An archangel becomes responsible for bringing them in—like a bail bondsman. They don’t actually do any hunting. The Marks do the dirty work and they collect a bounty, just as a bounty hunter would, only in this case the prize is indulgences. Earn enough and you’ll work off your penance.”

“Bring them in? As in dead or alive?”

“Dead.”

“Blood-and-gore-dead? Or some kind of magical-dead?”

“There’s nothing magic about it.” He set his hand atop hers, trying to offer what little comfort he could. “Sometimes it’s dirty, sometimes it’s not. You’ll learn the difference. Training is intense and thorough.”

“Training in Infernal hunting?” She shook her head. “No thanks.”

“Some Marks think the work is glamorous.”

“My idea of glamour is drinking champagne and wearing a little black dress.”

Reed’s mouth curved. “Can’t wait to see it.”

“How do I get out?”

“Of the dress? I’ll help with that.”

“Jeez. Not the dress. This bounty-hunting gig.”

“Not possible.”

“Bullshit. I want to talk to someone else.”

His smile turned into a grin. “My superior?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“You’ll meet him soon enough. In the meantime, class should begin shortly. You’ll be notified when it’s time.”

“Class?” Eve stared across the table at Reed and hated the fact that she didn’t have a buzz, yet felt light-headed anyway.

Her gaze moved beyond his shoulder. She straightened. “Heads up. We’ve got company.”

Reed didn’t even flinch. “About time he showed up.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Alec barked, stopping at their table.

“Waiting for you,” she replied, kicking out a chair for him.

Alec caught the back and dropped into the seat. He looked at Reed. “What do you want?”

“Good morning to you, too.”

“I want to know how to get rid of the mark,” Eve said.

“I haven’t figured it out yet,” Alec said grimly, “but I’m working on it.”

“It’s impossible,” Reed scoffed.

“Listen.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t subscribe to the ‘impossible’ school of thought. Anything is possible. We just have to figure out how.”

“You don’t even know what’s involved with the job yet, babe.”

“She’s not your babe,” Alec snapped.

Reed smiled.

Eve glared at both of them. “I know I’m not about to get pissed on and provoked every day of my life. I have a job I love, a home I worked damned hard for, and a life that suits me, even if it’s not perfect. I don’t want to hunt demons and nasties.”

“Pissed off,” Reed corrected.

“What?”

“You said ‘pissed on and provoked’ not ‘pissed off and provoked.’”

“I know what I said! And I meant what I said. I was out running errands while Alec was napping and ran across a gargoyle with a rotten sense of humor and a large bladder.”

Alec froze. “A gargoyle?”

“What did it look like?” Reed asked.

“Like a gargoyle,” she said dryly. “Made of gray stone or cement, small wings, big mouth. This one was kind of cute, with a face like an Ewok.”

“No,” Alec said. “What did its details look like?”

She frowned. “It didn’t have any.”

“It had to have some kind of designator,” Reed argued. “They’re marked just like you are.”

“Then he hid his details up his ass or something, because I saw every inch of him, even the bottom of his feet. He was bouncing around, spinning circles, and laughing like an idiot.”

“Maybe your sight isn’t working yet,” Alec suggested. “They can’t hide their details in body cavities. On the buttocks, genitalia, or even under their hair, yes. But it has to be on the skin.”

“I’m telling you, this guy had nothing on him,” she insisted. “And I know my ‘sight’ is working, because I saw the jerk on the beach’s details just fine.”

“Jerk on the . . .” Alec scowled. “You ran into something else?”

“You can see why taking a nap was a great idea,” Reed drawled.

“Screw you.” Alec looked fit to kill again. “That was probably your idea.”

“Not this time. I was too busy keeping your girl alive.”

“You can’t even keep yourself alive.”

Eve stood.

The brothers barked in unison, “Where are you going?”

“Away from you two. I’ll take my food to go, then you can fight over which one of you will pay.”

“Sit down, angel.”

Alec’s voice arrested her, the tone of command undeniable. This was a different side of Alec. Even more delicious than the others.

Damned libido.

Angry with her unruly desires, Eve plopped back into her seat.

“Tell me everything that happened,” Alec said. “Every detail.”

When she finished, the two men exchanged glances.

“What?” Eve asked.

“The tengu went after you,” Reed said. “He shouldn’t have.”

“Tengu?”

“The demon you thought was a gargoyle.”

“I feel like the kid in school who has Kick Me taped to her back,” she muttered. She looked at Alec. His unwritten sign said Don’t Mess with Me. If she had to wear any sign, that was the one she wanted.

“We have to find him.” Alec’s fingers drummed atop the plastic table.

The server returned with their food and they all waited while the plates were set down. Alec ordered the same meal, then watched Eve closely as she began to eat.

“Why do we need to find him?” Eve asked between bites of her first taco.

“We need to know who he’s affiliated with.”

“By his details?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Alec’s mouth. “You sound grumpy.”

“Neither of you believe me. That thing was completely gray from head to toe. Not a speck of color or design on him.”

“Your senses probably didn’t kick in until you ran across the Nix on the beach,” Reed pointed out, wiping his mouth with a paper napkin. “They fluctuate quite a bit for the first couple of weeks.”

“A Nix?” Alec swore.

“Is that bad?” Eve glanced back and forth between the two.

“Hell yeah, that’s bad. And I bet you riled him up with that mouth of yours.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my mouth.”

Both men’s gazes dropped to her lips. They tingled in response. She cleared her throat.

“And the tengu is bad, too?” she asked in order to break the sudden tension.

“Any demon is bad,” Reed answered. “But as far as pests go, a tengu is a mosquito and a Nix is a rat. Our resources are strapped, so the tengu fall fairly low on the scale. We don’t hunt them as actively as we do some other Infernals.”

“We’re going to hunt this one,” Alec said grimly.

“I’m going, too.” Eve wiped off her fingers. “If that thing had details, I want to see them.”

“It definitely had details, babe.” Reed picked up his beer. “There’s no doubt about that.”

“Says you,” she corrected. She looked at Alec. “What do you intend to do when you find him?”

Alec shrugged. “Shake him down and see what kind of information falls out.”

“Unless he has hidden talents, it doesn’t seem like a fair fight. He was small.”

“It’s the demon he works for that concerns me. The tengu are lesser demons who lack initiative and ambition. It’s out of character to risk bringing attention to himself. They like to cause trouble, but only indirectly.”

“It’s not going to be dangerous, is it?”

His gaze softened. “You’ll just point him out and get out of the way.”

“I can do that.” Eve picked up her fork, scooped up some rice, and tried to concentrate on eating. It wasn’t as easy as she would have wished.

She was too exhilarated, a response she found more disturbing than exciting.

“Now . . .” Alec’s voice was laden with frustration. “Tell me what happened with the Nix.”