Working for the Devil

CHAPTER 22

"I can't believe you did this," I hissed at Gabe. She looked supremely unconcerned.

"It's safe," she repeated for the fifth time. "And neither of us has endlessly deep pockets. Who's going to mess with an ex-Mob vaudun Shaman in Nuevo Rio? He's established, Danny. He's letting us stay for free and feeding us as well as running interference with the locals. What more do you fucking want?"

"A little warning next time you decide to drop shit like this on me," I said, glancing out the window. Jace had reserved us a cab, said he'd meet us back at his place, and hopped on a Chervoyg slicboard, rocketing away. Leaving us to pile into the cab with our luggage and get dumped at his house like a package delivery.

One thing hadn't changed; the man certainly irritated me as much as he ever had.

Eddie was grinning broadly. "He's still got it for you, you know." He settled back, stretching his legs out, bumping my knee. I kicked him back. For a claustrophobe Skinlin, he seemed extremely comfortable in the close quarters. Maybe it was just big transports he didn't like.

Nuevo Rio sprawled underneath us in a haze of smoke and noise. Here, the Power was more raw, not like Saint City's cold radioactive glow. This was a different pool of energy, and I would have to spend a little time acclimating. As it was, I felt a little green, and when the cab swooped to avoid a flight of freight transports, I grabbed at the nearest steady thing—which just happened to be Japhrimel's shoulder. I dug my fingers in.

He said nothing.

"I don't care who he's got jackshit for," I snapped. "I told you I never wanted to see him again. And you—you—" I was actually spluttering.

Gabe regarded me coolly, her dark eyes level. "What's the big deal, Danny? If you were so truly over him, it wouldn't be a big deal, y'diggit?"

"One of these days," I forced out between clenched teeth, "I will make you pay for this."

She shrugged. "Guess we'll be even when all's said and done, won't we?" She looked out the window at the sweltering smoghole that was Rio. "Gods. I hate the heat as much as I hate travel."

I could kill her, I thought. No jury would ever convict me. I realized my fingers were still digging into Japhrimel's shoulder and made them unloose with a physical effort. "Sorry," I said, blankly, to the demon.

He shrugged. "He was once a lover?" he asked, politely enough. "He seemed very happy to see you."

"We broke up," I said through gritted teeth. "Long time ago."

"She hasn't dated since," Eddie offered helpfully. "They were a hot team when they did work together—if they could finish a job without ripping each other's clothes off."

I gave him a look that could have drained a hovercell. "Will you quit it?"

He shrugged, settling back in the seat, bumping my knee again with his long legs. The smell of dirt and growing things filled the car, and the musky perfume of demon that I had only just become accustomed to. "Not my business," he said finally. "Hey, I wonder what time's dinner?"

"Soon," Gabe said. "He told me he'd feed us. Since we're on business."

"What else did you tell him?" I was forced to ask.

"Not much. Said you'd brief him on the hunt. That was his condition, that he get a piece of the—"

"Oh, Sekhmet sa'es," I hissed. "You didn't."

"What is your motherfucking problem?" Gabe snarled.

"Here we go again." Eddie at least pulled his legs up out of the way.

"Strictly speaking," the demon said, "the more cannon fodder, the better your chances, Dante."

I looked at him, my jaw dropping.

Silence crackled in the cab for a good twenty seconds, during which the driver—a bespectacled Hispanic normal with an air-freshener of Nuestra Dama Erzulie de Guadalupe hanging from his farecounter—did his level best to commit suicide by taxi. I stared out the window until my stomach rose in revolt and then shut my eyes, breathing deeply and trying to get a handle on my rage. It would strike at anyone around me if I lost control, my anger taking physical form—and I didn't want that.

Not yet.

"You invite yourself along on my hunt," I said slowly and distinctly, "and you give me trouble about the tech I ask you to supply, and you finish up by inviting someone else into my hunt too, someone who may or may not be trustworthy. This is not looking good for future collaborations, Gabe."

"You're the one dragging around a fucking demon," Gabe replied tartly. "And he's right—the more cannon fodder, the better the chances that your sloppy ass will get through this alive. You're losing your touch, Valentine. Don't make me come over there and smack some sense into your hard head. Besides," she continued, "sparring with Monroe will take some of your edge off. You haven't had a good sparring partner in years, and you won't eat him alive the way you'd do anyone else. Way I recall it, he always gave you a good run for your money—in and out of the sack. I never saw you so relaxed."

"Do we have to drag my sexual history into this?" I asked. " 'Cause if we do, you're going down with me."

Silence. The cab began a wavering descent. My ears popped.

"Do you need combat to ease your nerves?" the demon asked.

I shrugged, keeping my eyes firmly shut as my stomach lurched.

"Hades," Gabe breathed. "Does he live there?"

I opened my eyes to look; wished I hadn't.

Jace had either done well for himself or was renting from a Nuevo Rio druglord. The house was large, with an open plaza made of white stone, green garden growing up to the stone walls, a red-tiled roof and the glitter of shielding over it.

The shielding slid briefly through the taxi, flushing slightly as the demon stilled. The mark on my shoulder gave another spiked burst of pain.

"The mark's hurting," I said. The demon's attention fixed on me.

"My apologies."

"What's up?" Gabe asked.

"Don't even talk to me," I said without any real heat. The anger had drained helplessly away. "Not until after dinner, Gabe. Fuck."

She shrugged and stared out the window again.

"Thank the gods," Eddie mumbled.

I was just beginning to seriously contemplate drawing a knife when the cab touched down and we scrambled out onto the glittering hard-baked white marble plaza—above the city's smoghole stink, but still blazing under the hammerblow heat of Nuevo Rio.