Chapter Fifteen

Maccus held the gallery door. Morrigan gave him a curt nod, squared her shoulders, and entered. He fought the urge to drag her back to his place and keep her there.

But that wasn’t realistic. Their problem wasn’t going to go away, and he’d never hid from anyone or anything in his life. Better to face it head-on and take action. Offense was always better than defense.

She was dressed in her leather pants and jacket, but beneath was new underwear and a tank top he’d had delivered. Dangerous and delightful were the first two words that came to mind. Satisfaction, dark and deep, welled up within him. She was wearing clothing he’d provided.

The knife he’d given her was strapped to her arm beneath her jacket. The one she usually wore strapped to her leg was tucked at her back. And her gun was sitting in its holster beneath her shoulder.

There wasn’t another woman here who was anywhere near her equal. She was unique.

He pressed his hand against the small of her back and guided her forward when she paused just inside the door. The glittering crowd glanced in their direction. Many stopped what they were doing and stared. He was used to it, given his height and looks. People seemed either fascinated or afraid of him.

Since this was New York, many others were wearing black, so they didn’t stand out in that way. People wore leather and lace, silk and cotton, couture and thrift store. The murmur of voices and soft laughter swept around them as they moved deeper into the gallery.

Morrigan paused in front of a painting and gazed up at it. It was huge, dominating almost the entire height and width of the wall. Demons and dark images rose from a sea of fire. There was no hope, no salvation from above, only the laughing devil who stood and watched it all with glee.

The work was signed in red in the bottom right corner—Kayley.

“It’s him. It’s Lucifer.”

No mistaking him. The rendering was a perfect likeness. The setting was familiar to anyone who’d spent time in Hell. If he recognized it, she likely did, too.

“It is.” He couldn’t protect her from this. They were here to face whatever was to come.

“All this time…” Her voice trailed off as she moved to another painting, this one disturbingly erotic and set in the underworld. “How could she do this? Her work used to be filled with such light.”

“The work she showed you,” he reminded her. Kayley was manipulative, but he was afraid she would insist on seeing her sister as a victim. Family bonds died hard. Look at him. He’d believed in Gabriel right until the end, until it was too late.

A ripple ran through the crowd. Whispers grew, and anticipation crackled in the air. A woman entered the room. Her hair fell to her waist in a curtain of red. And in a sea of black and muted tones, she wore red. The dress clung to her curves and showed off both her bare shoulders and legs. Four-inch heels added to her height, making her almost six feet tall. The resemblance was unmistakable. In his mind, Kayley was a cheap imitation of the original.

“Kayley,” Morrigan whispered.

As though she heard her name, Kayley’s gaze whipped to their direction. Interesting. How much ability had she gained over the past ten years? This was no novice when it came to wielding power.

“Stay or leave?” If she chose the latter, he’d figure out another way to draw out their enemies.

She was pale but tilted her chin up. “Let’s do this.”

Pride filled him as they strolled across the space. Senses wide open, he watched everything and everyone. Kayley remained where she was, surrounded by her adoring fans. How many of them knew what she truly was, where her talent and power really came from?

Kayley ignored her sister and sized him up like she was measuring him for her bed. And she’d take him there in a heartbeat, not only because she was attracted to him, but because he was with Morrigan. This woman had never loved her sister, not the way Morrigan had loved her.

“Well, well.” she gave him a sultry smile, stepped forward, and ran a finger up his chest. “And who are you?” He caught her finger and squeezed. The urge to break it was strong. The smile disappeared from her face. When she tried to pull away, he only increased the pressure.

Morrigan touched his arm, and he immediately released her sister.

The crowd around them shifted restlessly, sensing the dark undercurrents flowing around them. One woman gave an uncomfortable laugh. A man excused himself to get a drink.

“Quite the guard dog you have there, sister.” Kayley finally turned to face Morrigan. Now that was interesting. She viewed him as nothing more than muscle, someone her sister had hooked up with—probably another hunter.

All the better for him.

His biggest concern was for Morrigan. She was pale but composed as she stared at the younger sister she hadn’t seen in a decade, the woman whose actions had led to her being taken to Hell.

“Hello, Kayley. It’s been a long time.”

…

Just breathe. If you don’t breathe, you’ll pass out.

Kayley was standing right in front of her, even more beautiful than she remembered. This woman wasn’t the teenager she’d left behind, wasn’t the girl who’d followed her around their apartment asking her a million questions about life and the world.

She’d been an inquisitive child, but lurking beneath had been a deep dissatisfaction with the life they’d had. Not a bad thing as it had pushed them to better themselves. Her sister had just gone about it the wrong way.

“Morrigan.” With a practiced smile, her sister gripped her by the arms and gave her two air kisses, greeting her like she would a stranger.

Was there was any piece of that girl left inside?

“Welcome to my show,” Kayley continued without missing a beat. “Help yourself to a drink and whatever they’re passing around as food and have a look at my work. I need to mingle, but we’ll talk later.”

Tongue-tied by their encounter, she could only nod as her sister walked away.

Kayley, on the other hand, wasn’t suffering from the same problem. Smiling, she walked away, pausing to chat here and there with patrons who’d gathered to see her new collection. A woman without a care in the world. Certainly not one who’d just seen her sister for the first time in a decade. The sister she’d helped send to Hell.

“Why is she here? The opening was last night.” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded hollow. A fine tremor shook her entire body.

Pull it together. You’re a badass demon hunter.

“On rare occasions, her launch parties will span several nights. It’s a marketing gimmick.”

“You knew she’d be here?” she accused, hurt to her core. And he hadn’t told her. Had he wanted to see her reaction? Doubted her word that she hadn’t seen her sister in a decade?

“Not for certain. They keep it a secret so people will come out to the gallery in hopes of meeting the artist.” When all she did was stare at him, he shrugged. “I did some research online.”

Of course he had. She swallowed back her bitterness. He was nothing if not prepared, which was more than she could say. Flattened best described her state.

“Lucifer is trying to keep you off-balance,” he continued.

“Point for him. Kayley was always going to be here, wasn’t she? No matter what night we finally showed?” God, she was tired of being manipulated.

“Yes.”

Okay, she could deal with this. Not like she had a choice. She tracked her sister’s movements, soaking in every minute detail.

“I don’t know her at all,” she murmured. And that hurt worse than she could ever have imagined.

“No, you don’t.” Maccus’s voice was a deep rumble in her ear.

The past ten years of her life, she’d consoled herself with the knowledge her sister had gotten away from the devil, was living a carefree and simple life, pursuing her art. It was all a lie, one she’d told herself so she could accept the life she’d chosen, convince herself that her sacrifice had been for the greater good.

But it hadn’t been. Not at all.

But Kayley said they’d talk later. Maybe there was more to the situation than she was aware.

As much as she tried to kill it, hope refused to die. A stubborn part of her refused to believe her sister had betrayed her, in spite of the proof in front of her.

Maccus stood beside her, his gaze deadly and watchful. Good thing one of them was paying attention because she certainly wasn’t. Their enemies were still out there and could launch some kind of attack at any time.

She was not being a very good partner.

“Do you see anyone suspicious?” she asked. A waiter strolled by, and she liberated one of the glasses of wine from his tray. She needed something to settle her churning stomach and calm her nerves. She didn’t bother taking one for Maccus, unable to imagine him sipping white wine. Maybe that wasn’t being fair to him.

“Want some?” She held out the glass to him. He surprised her when he took it and had a sip. The delicate glass looked ridiculously small in his oversize hand.

“It’s safe,” he pronounced before handing it back.

“Um, I assumed it was.” After all, the wine was being passed around to everyone in attendance.

“Never assume.”

“Right.” Best not to forget who and what they were dealing with. She took the wine and had a cautious taste. It was better than what was usually served at such events. Not that she’d been to many, but every year or so, she’d take herself to some cultural event, just to feel as though she was still a part of the world. Demon hunting was all-consuming and soul-destroying.

It would be so easy to lose her humanity.

Was that what had happened to her sister?

Her phone rang. She closed her eyes and sighed. Why now? She dragged her cell out of her pocket and answered. “Yes.”

“Are you enjoying the show?” Not Emmett, but Lucifer. She motioned to Maccus but needn’t have bothered. He was staring intently at the phone. Knowing he could hear the conversation helped settle her.

“Not particularly. The art isn’t to my taste.”

“Really?”

“Not my favorite subject matter.” It was official. She was out of her mind taunting him like this, but some devil had her tongue. The unintentional pun almost made her smile. Almost.

There was nothing funny about the situation she was in.

“You obviously lack taste. I’ll be seeing you.” The line went dead, and she stared at it for a long moment before tucking the phone away.

“What do you think?” she asked Maccus.

“His goal is to unsettle you. He may be here himself, but I don’t think so, not yet. Which means he has someone here. Let’s walk.”

Depositing the still mostly full glass on a low table, she followed. The art lining the walls drew her attention. The skill was undeniable, even as the content was horrific.

Her nightmares were up on the wall for everyone to see, to dissect and discuss over their drinks. None of them understood the brutal and terrifying reality. And her sister had painted every single one of them.

All the unspeakable memories she’d done her best to suppress were alive and in vivid color, visual reminders of where she’d been and was likely to end up for eternity.

In this way, she truly did understand the demons she hunted. Like them, she’d do anything in her power to stay out of Hell.

Pay attention.

This wasn’t the time for introspection or self-pity. Nor was it the time to give in to the despair and fear that threatened to consume her. She had to stay sharp and ready to fight.

“Do you see anything?” As much as she knew about Maccus, there was still so much that was a mystery. Could he see demons like she could? Did he sense them? After all, he’d spent centuries in Hell.

“Not yet.” They snaked their way through the rooms and the crowd. There were far more people then there usually were at such events.

Her lungs constricted. Were the walls getting closer? The air thinner?

“She’s really famous, isn’t she?” A part of her was proud of what her sister had accomplished. But how many other people had she sacrificed to attain that success?

“Among a certain crowd.” He paused in front of one giant canvas. Like the first one they’d seen, this one also took up an entire wall.

The subject matter was entirely different. At the bottom of the painting were demons and the fires of Hell waiting to receive someone, but it wasn’t a human they were waiting for. It was an angel.

Gabriel stood above Maccus, who was lying face down in the dirt. The angel held a sword of light. White wings stained with blood had been tossed aside like garbage. Two long gashes ran the length of Maccus’s back.

This was his falling.

Menace poured from every cell in his body. Shit, if she didn’t do something, he was going to rip the thing from the wall and destroy it.

They couldn’t afford to cause a scene. Not here. Not now.

“Maccus.” She grabbed his arm and tried to pull him away. It was like trying to move a mountain. The daggers etched on his palms started to glow. Not good. “Maccus,” she called his name again.

“Do you like it?” Kayley strolled up with a tall, thin man by her side. A whiff of sulfur hit her. A demon. Suspecting her sister had demonic help and actually witnessing it were two different things. The proof was irrefutable.

“I was inspired,” Kayley continued. “It came to me in a vision.” Her laugh was as grating as fingernails on a chalkboard.

Time to take drastic measures or he might kill her sister, right here and now. She stepped in front of him and dragged his head down. His eyes remained locked on the painting in front of him.

Swearing under her breath, she yanked with all her might. His head tilted the slightest bit. She surged up and kissed him.

For the first time since they’d met, his lips were cold and unmoving. He didn’t even seem to realize she was there.

Heaven had destroyed him once. There was no way she would allow Hell to use his pain to destroy him again.

Doubling down on the kiss, she swiped her tongue along the seam of his mouth before pushing inside. It was as though he wasn’t there, as though he was lost in the darkness.

No fucking way. She teased his tongue with hers, tried to breathe her passion into him. Fight it, she mentally ordered. Be with me. Not them.

Around them, people laughed and chatted. She didn’t give a crap about any of them. Right now, she was fighting for his life, what was left of his soul.

She ran her hands over his chest, trying to infuse him with her strength, with her caring. Because she did care, more than was safe for her.

He might believe he was all darkness, but she saw the good in him, the honor.

Finally, his lips moved under hers. It was only the slightest twitch, but she was so attuned to him, she felt it. A sense of victory surged through her as she eased back.

“We should leave,” she told him. It wasn’t safe when they were both so distracted.

“Oh, you must stay.” Kayley clutched her arm and squeezed. “I insist.”

The malevolent glee in her voice struck hard. For that heartbeat, she hated her sister and everything she’d created.

The hell with that. “We’re going,” she said at the same time Maccus spoke.

“We’ll wait.” His words had a finality to them. She knew he’d made up his mind.

“Not here.” Maybe he wouldn’t leave, but she could get him away from this horrible painting.

“No,” he agreed. “Not here.”

She hooked her arm through his and all but dragged him back to the front room. Every eye in the place seemed to be on them. Or maybe she was just being paranoid. Let them look. None of them had any idea of the battle being fought in their midst.

But she did.

If Maccus went on a rampage, he’d likely kill everyone here. And that might well be what pushed him over the edge and into darkness for good.

No way was she letting that happen.

…

Maccus’s every cell pulsed with simmering rage that threatened to erupt into a fury the likes of which the world had never witnessed.

The shadows reached for him, calling to him to join them once and for all. It would be so easy.

He’d fallen once before. Why not do it again? Only this time it would be his choice.

The urge to spill blood beat inside him. A craving for justice. A thirst for retribution.

But if the darkness gained free rein, it wouldn’t only be the guilty who paid.

He wasn’t alone. For the first time, there was someone with him, someone urging him away from the edge of oblivion.

He couldn’t resist her.

It was a woman whose name he couldn’t remember with his rage clouding all else. But it didn’t matter. He could taste her fear and desperation on his lips and in his mouth. He wanted to gobble it up, greedy for it all.

But even stronger was a sense of caring and concern. It drew him back. Enabled him to regain control.

It had been thousands of years since he’d come so close to losing himself to the unending fury that lived inside him.

She had drawn him back.

“Are you okay?” Her words and the tone of her voice grounded him in the present. The painting was the past. He’d survived his time in Hell and come out stronger on the other side.

Lucifer feared him. Gabriel feared him.

And so they should.

They’d created the monster he’d become. The only person who had a chance of containing him was the woman beside him, this former human turned demon bounty hunter.

It was almost laughable.

His neck was stiff, his limbs the same. Taking a deep breath, he sank fully back into the present, expanding his awareness. “Yes.”

Concern clouded her beautiful green eyes. “I’m so sorry you had to see that.”

Her sincerity was a balm to his ragged soul. “It’s only the truth.” And that’s what had hurt the most. It had portrayed his weakness, his vulnerability, his inability to save himself. He was no longer any of those things. Now he was strong and ruthless.

Long after his enemies were nothing but dust, he would still be alive.

That belief was what had sustained him since the fall. He saw no reason to change it now.

“Do we stay here or wait outside?” She rubbed her hand up and down his arm. It was too bad he was wearing a jacket and couldn’t feel her skin against his. Probably for the best, too.

He’d allowed himself to get distracted. That couldn’t happen again.

“We stay.”