Part 8 (1/2)
”No.” Alec stepped forward. ”I just didn't want to miss the party.”
”Leave her in peace,” one of the men rumbled. He held a fat cigar between lips hidden by an unkempt beard. A kapre. He was a long way from his native home in the Philippines. The protective stance he adopted in front of the second girl-whose Baphomet amulet betrayed her as a witch-offered a possible reason why. Kapres followed their loves for the entirety of their lives.
”Make me,” Alec said.
”We're no threat to you.” But the kapre's voice lacked conviction and his eyes s.h.i.+fted nervously. None of the Infernals would look Alec in the eye.
A frisson of warning skated down his spine. His Mark senses burst into full acuity in a brutal rush of power. Giselle's gaze darted to a spot just over his left shoulder.
Confirmation of the impending ambush came with the whistle of a blade. Alec dropped to a crouch. As the katana sliced through the s.p.a.ce where his neck had been a split second before, the kiss of a breeze told him how close he'd been to decapitation.
Twisting at the waist, Alec lunged at his attacker. His shoulder rammed into the Infernal's diaphragm. They hit the ground with jarring force, Alec on top, the winded demon pinned beneath him. In the blink of an eye, Alec noted the demon's mask and head-to-toe black attire. He registered his a.s.sailant's small stature, then the pillow of b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his chest. A female.
For Alec, fatal battles were as familiar as s.e.x and just as fluid. He was a creature of instinct and homicidal precision. He didn't plan or panic, he didn't flinch or hesitate. When his life was in danger, he didn't think twice. And he loved the hunt. Every minute of it. Predation created a high that couldn't be replicated. Only another hunter would understand the allure. The hunger. The dark need that was both savage and seductive.
Alec drew back his fist and swung. Two rapid blows to her covered face. The crush of bone echoed in the semienclosed loading bay, as did the clattering of her sword to the ground. The Infernal grappled to regain her weapon. Her fingernails pierced through her gloves, shredding the skin on the back of his hands. She tried to knee him in the b.a.l.l.s, but he s.h.i.+fted, absorbing the blow with his thigh. She lost necessary purchase with the miss, he took the advantage. He wrestled the hilt free, then bit out, ”It's been fun.”
Aiming at the tender spot between throat and arm, Alec thrust the length of the two-foot blade diagonally into the demon's body, bisecting her chest cavity from left shoulder to right hip. His aim was perfect, nicking the heart. Instantly she exploded into a pile of sulfuric dust, and Alec dropped to the ground, p.r.o.ne. He rolled to his back, then jumped to his feet, brandis.h.i.+ng his new weapon with affected insouciance. The fact that none of the other Infernals had tried to join the fray while he was distracted was puzzling. Demons played dirty, always.
The witch standing beside Giselle crumpled to the ground, her multiplicity spell broken by the death of her warrior half. A moment later, she burst into ash, unable to survive without the part of herself Alec had killed.
The kapre bellowed in agony. It turned and leaped to the brick wall that enclosed the end of the bay. Punching through the facade with fingers and toes, he crawled halfway up the building. Then he threw himself from the sixth floor and hit the oil-stained cement in an explosion of ash.
”What the f.u.c.k?” Alec was stunned.
In centuries of hunting, he'd witnessed only a handful of suicides. Infernals would rather go down fighting. It was the best way to ensure Sammael didn't hold their demise against them . . . too much. But he quickly shook off his astonishment in favor of saving his own a.s.s and getting what he needed from the remaining demons-blood and information.
”So . . .” The word was drawled, the mark regulating his breathing and heartbeat so that they remained as steady as a ticking clock. He brushed at the ash on his s.h.i.+rt and jeans with the back of his free hand. ”Did you draw straws? Or should I just pick one of you to vanquish next?”
Someone was going to answer his questions and someone was going to give him some blood. The only question was: which one?
The male on the far right volunteered. With a roar that drowned out the sounds of the city around them, he leaped forward and bared his fangs. A vampyre.
”I just had a smoothie,” Alec said. ”I should be extra sweet . . . if you can manage to get a bite.”
The demon withdrew a stake from the small of his back. Alec beckoned him closer with a wriggle of two fingers and a c.o.c.ky smile.
”Servo vestri ex ruina!” the Infernal snarled.
Alec raised his sword. ”Dei gratia.”
The vamp thrust his weapon deep into his own chest and exploded into dust. Another Infernal pounced from the depths of the ashy haze that filled the air. The third male. This one tilted his leonine head back and howled at the moon. A werewolf.
”It's my lucky night,” Alec muttered. ”I got a mixed bag of nuts.”
The wolf was short and stocky. His barrel chest and thick forearms and thighs warned Alec that this particular tussle was going to take some effort.
Or it would have, if the wolf hadn't put a gun to his temple and blown his brains out.
”Holy f.u.c.king s.h.i.+t.”
If Alec hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn't have believed it. As the report of the shot reverberated around him, he wondered if his smoothie had been spiked. In his reality, ma.s.s suicides among Infernals were unheard of.
When the ash from the third Infernal took too long to clear, he widened his stance and adjusted his grip on his blade, prepared for a charge. But nothing rushed at him from the depths of the churning cloud. It only grew bigger, more opaque, as if being continuously fed.
Were the others checking out, too?
Alec's gut knotted. The order of his existence-so d.a.m.n repet.i.tive he had begun to think he was living his life on a loop-had been thrown completely out of whack since Eve had been marked. As the floating debris in the compact delivery area finally began to dissipate, his suspicions were confirmed. There was nothing left of the Infernals. No one remained to explain what the h.e.l.l was going on. Disturbed and disgusted by the waste, Alec tossed the katana into one of the Dumpsters and exited back out to the street. Every step he took away from the scene was heavy with reluctance. Leaving empty-handed went against his very nature, but what choice did he have? Without an Infernal to pursue, he had no leads to follow.
Raguel, he called out.
Yes? The archangel's voice was as resonant in thought as it was in reality. You need to send a team of Marks to Santa Cruz. In explanation, Alec relived his recent memories through his connection to Raguel.
There was a moment's stillness, then, Call me.
What? Why?
A jolt caused Alec to stumble mid-stride, followed by the silence of a severed communication. Raguel?
He reached into his rear pocket for his cell phone, cursing when he realized it was still in his backpack in the trunk of Eve's car. He had tossed it there before they left Gadara Tower, figuring that the only person he was interested in talking to would be sitting right next to him. Now he'd have to wait until he reached his room to call Raguel, a delay that was too lengthy. What game was the archangel playing? Raguel needed to send a team of Marks out here immediately. Someone had to figure out what the h.e.l.l was going on, and it couldn't be Alec because he had places to go and a wolf to kill.
Two blocks away from his hotel, Alec knew he was being tracked. He veered off the sidewalk and entered a convenience store. Skirting his way past the public restrooms, he ducked into the employees-only area. Within moments, he was exiting out the rear service door and rounding the building to catch his shadow unaware.
But it was he who was caught by surprise.
She hid in an unlit corner of the lot, her shoulders hunched forward and her Nordic appearance hidden under the glamour of a dark-haired Latina beauty. The red dress, however, was unmistakable. Alec slipped along the low cement block wall that bordered the edge of the parking lot and came up on her from behind. The Mare was functioning so far below normal she didn't scent him until he was a few feet way.
”Cain.” She faced him. Her face was tear-streaked and her mouth bracketed with lines of strain.
”Giselle.” His arms crossed. ”You change your mind about that brawl?”
”It was the only way,” she whispered. ”They have to believe I'm dead or they'll find me. They'll kill me.”
”Who?”
Her blue eyes, so hard and wary earlier, were soft and pleading now. ”Take me with you when you leave Santa Cruz. Then I'll tell you everything.”
Eve was tired of staring at the water stains on the ceiling. It was driving her nuts to lay unmoving in her bed when she felt so restless and sticky with heat. On the opposite side of the room, Claire's steady, rhythmic breathing ill.u.s.trated the other Mark's continuing slumber.
Lucky, she thought grudgingly.
Sighing, she tried closing her eyes to see if that would put her to sleep. She had spent the last two hours ruminating over the same questions in a frustrating loop.
Why hadn't Alec called her back?
What did Richens really want?