Saint City Sinners

Chapter 5

I dropped down to sit on the bed, laying my sword aside and wriggling my toes with relief. It was nice to be out of my boots; I wasn't footsore from wandering through the stone-floored bazaar, but it was close. Japhrimel closed the door, his golden hand spread against it for a moment and his head bowed.

"Japh?" I dug in my bag. "Hey."

He didn't move. Stood with his head down, his eyes closed, leaning his entire weight against his hand on the door. His shoulders slumped, as if he was tired.

"Japhrimel?" I saw no complex twisting of Power that would tell me he was performing a work of magick. Saw nothing but the same black-diamond glitter of his aura, hard and impenetrable, shouting his essential difference. He was demon, he wasn't human.

I'd ahnost forgotten that, before. Never again, I promised myself. Still… I couldn't help trying to get through to him. I was an idiot.

For him, I seemed to be nothing but.

He looked back over his shoulder, his face arranged in its usual ironic mask and his shoulders coming back up to their accustomed straight line. "You should rest, Dante."

"Come on over." I patted the bed next to me. Plasilica whispered as I lowered the bag with my most important purchase in it to the floor. I'd bought another small statue of Anubis to replace the one I'd lost, this one easily able to fit in my palm and carved out of a single chunk of black marble veined with gold. The other thing that mattered-the statue of Sekhmet, repaired with infinite care-sat on the bedstand, glassy obsidian glowing mellow. "Please?" He crossed the room slowly, lowered himself down. The bed creaked. I finished digging in my messenger bag, easing the strap over my head and settling the bag itself on my other side with a sigh. Carrying the damn thing never got any easier.

"Close your eyes." The remains of my good mood and the excitement of the Souk made me smile. I'll just try this one more time.

He studied my face for a long few moments before complying.

I undid the clasp and leaned close, my bag clinking as it slid against the bed. Then I settled the sapphire against his coat and fiddled with the clasp, my fingers suddenly clumsy. It took a little while, and when I retreated I found he'd opened his eyes. He looked at me like I'd just done something extraordinary.

"There." I felt very pleased with myself. "I think it suits you."

He said nothing.

A little bit of the good mood slipped away. Then a little more. He examined my face, his eyes moving from my forehead to my mouth to my cheeks to my chin to my eyes and then repeating the process again.

Great. He doesn't like it. He probably doesn't like me very much either right now. If he'd just listen to me. Shame rose inside me. Rebuffed by a demon, a new low even in my dating life. "If you don't like it, I-"

"No." He set his jaw. "It's beautiful, Dante. Thank you." He didn't sound thankful. He sounded flat, and a little amused, and terribly furious. I wondered if he was going to hurt me again, and kept his hands in view. He could move with eerie blurring demon speed, but I might still have a little warning if he decided to get nasty with me again.

It didn't take much sometimes to tell what he was feeling-you only had to look closely enough to see the tiny changes, a millimeter's quirk to the eyebrow, a fractional lift of a corner of his mouth, a slight flaring of one elegant nostril. The ever-so-tiny lift of one shoulder. I used to think he wasn't as beautiful as Lucifer, looked blandly normal.

Well, Dante, you were wrong on that one.

My chest was on fire, a pain that wasn't cal wound lying against my heart. Why does this hurt so much? "You don't sound happy." I was too tired to keep the hurt out of my voice. "Did I just violate some arcane demon protocol by giving you a present?"

He shook his head. I waited, got nothing else.

"Fine." I turned away, grabbed my bag's strap and my sword, and slid off the bed. Padded around to the other side, then dropped down and stretched out, wiggling my bare toes and almost groaning as comfort closed around me. My bag settled against my stomach, I clasped my sword in my hands. "Take it off and burn it if you don't like it. I don't care." After all, you held me up against a wall and lied to me. You're a bastard.

Why can't I hate you?

Long pause. Silence ticked through the room, only slightly marred by hovertraffic and desert wind outside, the call of a candyseller on the corner, the humming of the containment field over the window. Mosquito netting on the bed, pulled aside, swayed on the breeze. I saw a corner of a chair and a slice of plaster wall before tears blurred my vision and I closed my eyes.

"What would you have me do?" Japhrimel's voice, surprisingly, was raw and hoarse. Probably with fury.

It took a few swallows before I could reply through the stone in my throat. "Give a little," I managed. "Tell me what's going on. Don't lie to me. Quit manhandling me when I don't do what you want. And for the sake of every god that ever was, quit being so… so-"

"Inhuman? Is that the word?" Terrible sadness weighted his tone. "How many times must I tell you that I will act to protect you; I will not bother you with trifles? You need only obey my requests, Dante, and this will be easier."

Obey? Are you going to start beating me like a pimp beats his favorite hooker? "Don't hunt Eve." My voice was muffled, I pressed my left hand against my mouth. "Please. If you ever cared about me at all, don't do it." I'll do anything you want, Japh, just leave Doreen's little girl alone. Hurt me if you have to, but leave her alone.

"I will not risk you in a rebellion doomed to failure. The Androgyne is young, untested. She cannot win, Dante. I will not lose you to her foolishness. Why will you not understand?"

The injustice rose to choke me. I swallowed it, tried again. "You don't have to declare yourself on her side. We can look anywhere in the world for her, Japh. We just don't look too hard. In seven years the contract's over, we're free, and you-"

His voice drained all the warmth from the room, made the air stir uneasily. "How free do you think the Prince will leave us if these four are not caught and brought to his justice? It is a choice between them and us. They will die, or we will. And if she has clouded your head with some appeal or treachery, it becomes my task to save you from yourself."

Silence. Soughing of the wind as it rose at dusk, the sun sinking below the arc of the horizon and night reaching up to fold ageless desert and ancient city in its embrace.

"You want to save me from myself, and you'll hurt me if I don't do what you want. Is that it?" I swallowed dryly. Tensed myself, waited for him to explode.

"I am sorry. I am a fool." Well, chalk it up to a miracle, he sounded sorry for once. "I do not mean to hurt you. You do not understand, and it frustrates me past all reason when you will not listen-will not see. When the escaped are brought to Lucifer's justice, you may extract whatever penance you desire from me. Until then, we are at war. It is us or it is them, and I will not have it be us."

"It's not a choice between them and us, Tierce Japhrimel." It was my turn to sound sad. "It's your choice between me and Lucifer." A bitter laugh rose up in me, was savagely repressed, escaped anyway. "Guess I know where your real loyalty lies."

"If it pleases you, continue to think so." He rose, the bed creaking slightly as his weight moved. "When this is finished, I will ask an apology for that accusation."

You might get one, if we can hash this out between now and then. If we have time, between whatever's going down with Gabe and whatever Lucifer's cooking up next. I would have cursed, but he closed the door to the bedroom before I could. I clamped my left hand around my katana's scabbard, the right around the hilt, and settled down to brood before we had to catch the transport. The tears dried up, leaving my eyes dry and hot, scoured by a whole desert's worth of sand.