Working for the Devil

CHAPTER 43

Gabe examined my face. "Hades," she breathed, then handed me my sword.

I took it, cautiously. But no blue fire bloomed on the blade, and it didn't hurt me.

I glanced at Japhrimel, who stood expressionless by the window. Darkness pressed against the glass, the sound of rain tapering off. I wondered if the city was still burning. "Blessed weapons won't react to you," he said quietly. "Ease your mind, Dante. Your blade is still your own."

I looked at the curved length of steel, closed my eyes, and thought of Santino. Opened my eyes.

Blue ran weakly along the slight curve of the blade. Anubis, I prayed, I beg of You, answer me. I let out a shaky breath. Felt my tattoo shift on my cheek, the emerald sparking. Relief burst inside me. It still worked. And if my blade was still blessed, I was still one of the god's own chosen.

"Well," Gabe said. She wore her long black police-issue coat, a plasgun holstered under her left arm. I couldn't see her sword. She put her fists on her hips. "Damn. Better than an augment, I guess."

It was her attempt at humor, and it failed miserably. I was still grateful for it, though. "And so cheap," I said, my own failed attempt at levity.

Silence stretched inside the wrecked bedroom, a thin humming silence. The bed was reduced to matchsticks and springs and strips of material, the chairs splintered. The curtains were torn, and there were a few impact-marks on the walls. I took this all in.

"Sorry about the room, Jace," I finally said, not meeting his eyes. My voice was indeed ruined, husky but still perfect. I sounded like a vidsex queen.

"It's okay." He leaned against the door to the hall. His staff leaned next to him, the bones moving uneasily in the charged air, clacking against each other. "I wanted to redo it anyway."

Eddie, his arms folded, hulked behind Gabe, stealing furtive looks at me and then at Japhrimel, who looked just as he always had—except for the dark rings around his glittering eyes. He looked tired and somehow more human than I'd ever seen him. I felt his unwavering attention, his back to the window but his entire body focused on me.

"Where are we at?" I asked, and didn't dare look Gabe in the eyes. I didn't think I could stand to meet her worried dark gaze.

She cleared her throat. "I've managed to get a nice stockpile of munitions. Eddie can have three golem'ai ready for Manifest in two days. And he's put together eighteen firestarters. Forty-eight hours, and we're as ready as we can be." She looked at Jace.

"I've got Mob Circle passports for all of us," he said quietly. "And my second is already handing out the weapons. We've declared war on the Corvins, they just don't know it yet. Funny thing is, there aren't any of the Inner Circle left in the city. They've vanished, probably gone with Sarg—urn, Santino. I've given the orders to take out their holdings. As for us, we've got supplies, and world-class transport. I'm ready to go whenever you are."

"You're staying here," I said. "You've got to coordinate—"

"I'm going with you," Jace disagreed mildly. "If you don't like it, tough. I've got my own score to settle with Sargon Corvin. Or whoever the hell he is."

I looked at him, my fingers tightening on the hilt. Gabe stepped back. Eddie slid his arms around her, and they stood, watching me.

A kind of black fury welled up behind my breastbone. I swallowed, looking down at my sword. Blue light glittered along the ringing blade. "Get me a map," I said, finally. "Let's see if I can track Doreen's blood. If I can't, we still have Dake's tracker. We can hope Santino hasn't set up countermeasures."

I felt rather than heard Gabe's sigh of relief. Jace nodded, took his staff, and left the room. Gabe followed, pulling Eddie by the hand. The Skinlin sidled past me. Gabe paused at the door.

"Danny?" she said.

"Hm?" I steeled myself, looking at the glitter of blue fire along the steel. Power. The changes had settled into me, and I felt the same humming force that lay over Japhrimel flooding me. So much Power—I didn't even need the city's well of energy now. My brain shuddered away from the implications. I could tear this whole damn house apart.

"You're still my friend," she said, firmly. "No matter what you are, you're still my friend."

Startled, I half-turned to look at the door, but she was gone, dragging Eddie after her.

That left me alone with Japhrimel.

He studied me across the burning air. Finally he moved slightly, clasping his hands behind his back. "I am not sorry," he said.

"Of course not," I said. "You're a demon."

"A'nankimel. Not demon. Fallen." His eyes did what his hands didn't, touched my face, roamed over me. "I will not give you up, Dante."

"I don't belong to you," I flared.

"No," he agreed. "You do not."

I swallowed dryly. "Why? Why did you do this?"

"If you were merely human, Vardimal might kill you." Japhrimel cocked his head to the side. "Now you are neither human nor demon. Neither man nor demon may kill him, that was the immunity given to him by the Prince in return for his services."

That brought up another question. "What's Lucifer going to think of this?"

For a long moment, Japhrimel examined me. Then one corner of his mouth quirked slightly up. The slight smile made my heart pound. "Ask me if I care."

"Do you care?" My breath caught on the last word.

"No."

Well, that about summed everything up. Except one thing.

I stepped around a pile of splinters that had once been a chair. Approached him cautiously, my boots grinding against the plaster dust and small bits of wreckage on the floor. I held my katana to the side and stopped less than a foot from him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from him. His eyes held mine, but he didn't move.

"Did you mean any of it?" I asked him. "What you said?"

He nodded. "Of course, Dante. Every word."

His eyes glittered feverishly, and a faint, almost-human flush crept up his cheeks.

I believed him. Gods help me, but I believed him.

"You're going to have to tell me what all this means and what exactly I am now," I said finally. "After I kill Santino." There's a whole lot about my life that I'm going to sort out once that motherfucker's dead. The thought was welcome—it sounded like me. At least I sounded like myself inside my own head.

"When he is dead, I will explain everything," Japhrimel agreed. "My apologies, Dante. But I am not sorry."

I licked my dry lips. "Neither am I," I said harshly. He deserved the truth. "I… I just… it's a shock, that's all." It took more courage than I thought it would, but I reached up and rested my fingertips on his cheek. "I never thought I'd even consider dating a demon." I was still searching for levity and failing miserably.

His shoulders sagged. He closed his eyes, leaning into my touch. We stood there for a few moments before I took my hand away, and his green gaze met mine. His eyes seemed strangely dark now.

"Now come on," I said. "We've got a demon to kill, and the Egg to get back, and Doreen's little girl to save. We'll do some planning."