Part 12 (1/2)

She plucked a candy from the bowl on the counter and popped it into her mouth as if everything was fine now that she'd broken the bond between them.

”Oh, we're nomadic,” she said, ”but that's not why I insisted on moving every few years. My people were always looking for me. The search just didn't get serious until the queen died.” She bit down on the candy with a hard crunch. ”Now, unless you're here to kill me, there's a red-light district that's just ripe with s.e.xual energy to harvest. So go away.”

”Oh babe,” Slake said, his voice sc.r.a.ping gravel, ”you're the one who is going away.”

In a move so fast Raze didn't see it until it was over, Slake launched a dart that struck Fayle in the throat, penetrating so deep that blood spurted all over the pockmarked tile.

”What the f.u.c.k,” she screeched, clutching at her throat even as her claws extended like a tiger's and her body began to swell and morph.

”Hurry!” Raze yelled at Slake. He tackled Fayle, taking her down to the floor as Slake wrapped her ankles with rope he swore would contain a succubus of her species.

Fayle swiped at Raze, catching him in the jaw, and pain seared him from the chin to his scalp.

Growling like a werebear awakened from hibernation, Slake snared her wrists and hogtied her, facedown on the cheap floor rug. Her m.u.f.fled curses followed them as they both stood and looked down at their handiwork.

”You made the call?” Raze confirmed.

”Yup. Justice Dealers should be here any minute.”

Excellent. Justice Dealers were the police of the demon world, and nothing gave them bigger hard-ons than tossing a royal into their jails. Raze was going to make sure Fayle paid for what she'd done to Thirst. And he'd enjoy every minute of it.

Slake turned to him, and abruptly, his humor turned to concern. ”You're injured.” Reaching out, he gently smoothed his thumb along Raze's jaw, and Raze sighed with pleasure that outweighed any of the pain Fayle had dealt him tonight.

”I'm okay,” he said. ”I think I'll always be okay now.”

Slake grinned. ”In that case, I'd say it's time I deal with my Fayle.”

”Do you need me there?”

”Nope.” Slake drew Raze hard against him. ”Meet me back at your place. And I want you naked when I get there.”

There was only one answer to that.

Duh.

For the first time in his life, Slake walked into Dire & Dyre's New York headquarters without an ounce of trepidation.

He was prepared for a battle to get onto the elevator, but surprisingly, the entrance receptionist sent him to the top floor without an argument. So far, so good.

When he stepped out of the elevator and into the plush offices that belonged to the Big Boss, Dyre's goat-horned a.s.sistant stopped him. Not unexpected.

”You'll have to wait. Mr. Dyre is-”

”Bite me.” Slake shoved past her and slammed into Dyre's office.

Dyre looked up, but if he was annoyed at the intrusion, it didn't show. ”Slake. What a surprise.” He grinned, flas.h.i.+ng sharp teeth. ”A surprise that you aren't puking out your insides from the pain of losing your soul.”

The jacka.s.s. ”Yeah, well, how about another surprise?” He moved to the desk, planted his fists on the s.h.i.+ny oak top, and leaned in. ”I. Quit.” As an afterthought, he added, ”a.s.shole.”

Dyre's black eyes rolled like oily marbles in his head. ”You can't quit. I own you.”

”If you're talking about my soul, well, even if that were true, you couldn't stop me from quitting. My body is still mine, no matter who owns my soul.”

The marbles in Dyre's eye sockets became ringed with red. Dyre had a short temper, and his inner demon loved to come out to play. It was probably time to de-escalate the situation. But only a little. Slake needed the guy to be agitated for what he had planned.

”I will kill you and reap your soul long before I allow you to quit.”

What a d.i.c.k. ”You realize that when your employees are terrified of you, they won't go that extra mile, right?”

”They will if they like their skin.” Dyre grinned wider, and Slake swore the number of teeth in his mouth multiplied. They'd also grown sharper. ”Or their souls.”

”Yeah, about that-”

A silver flash lit up the room, and suddenly Revenant was standing there, his ma.s.sive black wings, shot through with silver and gold, arched high above his back. If Slake hadn't met the guy before, he'd be p.i.s.sing himself. As it was, he still took a step back so he didn't get brained by the careless flap of a wing.

”So,” Revenant said, his voice rumbling with such force that the expensive trinkets on the shelves rattled, ”it turns out that when you own a soul, you get notified when there's danger.” Revenant scowled at Dyre. ”What were you doing to him?”

Dyre shoved to his feet. ”Who the f.u.c.k are you?”

Revenant gave Slake a withering look of disappointment. ”You really gave this douche bag your soul?”

Abruptly, Dyre's skin turned black as night and horns jutted from his skull, which began to elongate as his body doubled in size. Very slowly, Slake reached under his jacket for his bloodblade, a Duosos weapon only a male of his species could wield.

”You dare to insult me?” Dyre roared. ”Do you have any idea who I am? What I am?”

A smile so cold that it dropped the temperature in the room curved Revenant's lips. ”Do you honestly think I care?”

Every dangerous object in the room activated at once, all of them aimed at Revenant. In a blur of motion, he was pelted by various blunt instruments, struck by rays of melting heat, and impaled by sharp objects. But when it was over, he merely tsked, and everything went back to normal. His clothes stopped smoking, the blood was gone, and there was nothing pointy sticking out of him.

Dyre's black skin went ashen. ”What the-”

Revenant lifted Dyre off his feet. And as far as Slake could tell, Rev was using the Force, because the guy hadn't moved a muscle.

”I did a little research on you after I talked to Slake. Seems you and Satan were pretty close. He let you do whatever you wanted with the souls you collected as long as you gave him all of your daughters. Is that right?”

Dyre stopped clawing at his throat long enough to croak, ”Yes. I-I'll offer you the same deal.”

The laughter that came from Revenant made Slake's blood freeze in his veins. ”You will offer me a deal. Really? Because from where I'm standing . . . well, I'm standing. You, however, are floating in the air and slowly strangling. So let's try this again.” He flung Dyre into a wall, shattering artwork, pictures, and Dyre's prized, framed awards and certificates. As the guy scrambled to his feet, Revenant advanced on him. ”Here's the deal I will offer you. Return all the souls you haven't sold off or used for whatever vile purpose you use them for, and close your law firm.”

”And what,” Dyre ground out, ”do I get in return?”

”You get to not die.”

Dyre gaped. ”Are you crazy? I can't give up my practice for nothing!” Dyre's hand slipped behind his back. Slake opened his mouth to warn Revenant, but there was no need.

Dyre exploded. Just . . . blew into a cloud of atomized red mist that settled around the office in a gruesome blanket of gore.

Revenant sighed. ”I've had to do that a lot lately.”

Ho-ly. d.a.m.n. ”What,” Slake muttered, ”explode people?”