Working for the Devil

CHAPTER 20

Eddie dug his fingers into the armrests. He was as pale as I'd ever seen him, his cheeks chalk-white under his blond sideburns.

Gabe, leafing through a magazine, didn't appear to notice, but Japhrimel was studying Eddie intently, his green eyes glittering. The demon lounged in his seat next to me, occasionally shifting his weight when the transport rattled. I tapped my fingers on my swordhilt and looked out the window. Seeing the earth drift away underneath the hover transport was no comparison to a slicboard, but it was nice to sit and watch city and water drift away, replaced by pleated folds of land, the coastal mountains rising and falling.

"I can't believe I made a ten o'clock transport." I rested my head against the seat-back. Gabe had actually scored first-class tickets. We had a whole compartment to ourselves—Gabe's tattoo and mine took care of that. "I haven't even had coffee yet, goddammit."

"Someone's a little cranky." Gabe hooked her leg over her seat-arm and rubbed her ankle against Eddie's knee. "Bitch, bitch, bitch. I had to drag this big shaggy guy out of bed and onto a transport before noon. I should be the one whining."

"You're always trying to one-up me," I mumbled. The demon glanced at me, then leaned forward to look out the window. I caught a wave of his scent and sighed, my eyes half-closing. Once you started to get used to it, being around a demon was kind of absurdly comforting. At least the most dangerous thing in the vicinity was right where I could see it.

"Fucking transports," Eddie said, closing his eyes. "Gabe?"

"I'm here, sweetie." Gabe rubbed her ankle against his knee. "Just keep breathing."

I looked away. So there was something Eddie was afraid of.

"What's he doing in Rio?" I asked the air, thinking out loud. "Not a particularly good place to hide…"

"No, not with all the santeros down there," Gabe answered dryly, flipping another page. A holster peered out from under her left shoulder, a smooth dark metal butt. Plasgun, I thought, and looked over at the demon again. He had disappeared as we navigated the security checkpoints and rejoined us just before boarding, his hands clasped behind his back and his face expressionless. "Hey, you know their Necromances kill chickens to get Power like the vaudun? Then everyone eats the chicken."

I'd studied vaudun at the Academy, so I wasn't entirely unfamiliar with it. "That's weird," I agreed, my eyes snagging on the demon's face. He was looking at me now, studying intently. "What?"

"Why does he reek of fear?" Japhrimel asked, jerking his chin at Eddie.

"He doesn't like high places," Gabe said, "and he doesn't like enclosed spaces. Most Skinlin don't." Her dark eyes came up, moved over the demon from head to foot. "What are you afraid of, demon?"

He shrugged, his coat moving against the seat. "Failure," he said crisply. "Dissolution. Emptiness." His mouth twisted briefly, as if he tasted something bitter.

Silence fell for about thirty seconds before the first inflight service came along—a blonde stewardess in a tight magenta flightsuit, paper-pale and trembling. Her eyes were the size of old credit discs, and she shook while she poured coffee, probably thinking that we were all going to read her mind and expose her most intimate secrets, or take over her mind and make her do something embarrassing—or that Gabe and I would suddenly start to make ghosts appear to torment her. Instead, I selected a cream-cheese Danish, Gabe got a roast-turkey sandwich, Eddie asked for the chicken soup in its heatseal pack. Oddly enough, Eddie seemed to scare her the most in his camel coat and long shaggy hair, his Skinlin staff braced against Gabe's sword. She looked like she expected him to go berserk at any moment. Japhrimel accepted a cup of coffee from her with a nod, and it was strange to see her give him an almost-relieved smile. Being normal, she couldn't see the dangerous black diamond flaming of his aura.

Sometimes I wished I'd been born that oblivious.

We waited until she was gone. I dumped a packet of creamer into my coffee. "So do you have contacts in Rio, other than a plug-in? Abra couldn't give me any." I settled back, wrinkling my nose at the reheated black brew.

"A few," she said, tearing into her sandwich. "Guess who else is down Rio way? Jace Monroe."

I made a face. "Yeah, Abra told me. Go figure."

"He's good backup."

"Too bad we're not going to use him."

"Aw, come on," Eddie piped up. "You two are so cute together."

I shrugged. "I don't go near the Mob. I thought you knew that."

"He's not Mob no more." Eddie slurped at his steaming soup, wiggling his blond eyebrows at me. He seemed to have forgotten he was on a transport.

"I fell for that line the first time. Once Mob, always Mob." I nibbled at my Danish, finding it bearable. "You remember that when you're dealing with him, Eddie, 'cause I sure as hell won't ever be messing around with him. Once was enough for me."

"I'll bet," Gabe muttered snidery, and I threw her a look that could have cut glass.

My rings swirled with lazy energy. We settled down to a long flight, Gabe flipping through her magazine again while she sipped at her coffee, Eddie finishing his soup in a series of loud smacking slurps, crunching on the crackers. I fished a book out of my bag—a paperback version of the Nine Canons, the glyphs and runes that made up the most reliable branch of magick. You can't ever study too much. I was secondarily talented as a runewitch, and I firmly believed that memorizing the Canons trained the mind and opened up the Power meridians, and why waste power creating a spell when you could use a Canon glyph as a shortcut?

The demon settled himself in his seat, alternating between watching me and studying his cup as if the secrets of the universe were held inside the nasty liquid passing for coffee. At least it was hot, and it had enough caffeine.

It was going to be a long, long flight.