18

 

 

Pulse racing, I took the steps two at a time and came to a halt facing the front door, but Tyrius beat me to it.

The cat sprinted across the porch, sniffing the porch’s landing and then moved towards the door. “I’m not getting any wet-dog stench or sulfur. If they’d been here, I’d smell their stinking hides.”

“Maybe they’ve already been here and are long gone.” I didn’t wait for Tyrius to answer as I pounded on the front door. Hard. Again and again I pounded, echoing the thumping of my own heart, until I felt as though I’d smashed a few fist prints into the old oak door.

Just when I was about to continue my endless pounding, there was the twisted, slow, scraping of the dead bolt and the door swung open.

Father Thomas stood in the threshold, his hair disheveled and pointing to the left, his eyes red and looking half-asleep, wearing only a pair of gray jogging pants. Holy mother of all the Gods.

My fears evaporated as my eyes homed in on a beautiful body. I couldn’t help it. I was a warm-blooded female after all. In my line of work, I didn’t often happen across such delightful, half-naked human men. And if it was naked, it was mostly raw fleshed, maggot-ridden, carrion-stinking, naked demons. Not pretty.

I stared at golden ripples of perfectly sculpted abs and a strong powerful chest. Those sleek muscles under that sleek skin looked like polished gold. Was it gleaming?

My mouth dropped. “Jesus,” I breathed, and Tyrius snorted.

“Rowyn?” the priest shook his head, clearly not realizing he was half naked. Half-naked and very tempting. “What is it?”

“Damn.” My gaze went back to his six-pack. “Damn. Damn.”

“Rowyn,” warned Father Thomas, looking slightly more awake and not appreciated my cursing.

“I didn’t know...” I waved a finger at his chest, “that all that was under your black shirt. Damn. Those are some serious abs.”

“Stop saying that,” said the priest, his face reddened, which only made me want to do it more.

“You work out a lot?” God, this was so fun. “Yes, of course you do. All this time the ladies have been deprived of such quality abs.”

Tyrius laughed. “Can you reel in your pheromones, Padre? It stinks. And it’s making things worse.”

Father Thomas looked affronted as he crossed his arms over his chest, trying to hide his scrumptious physique, but it only added more bulk around his pectoral muscles. Wow. He barely had any hair at all, just smooth golden skin.

“Rowyn, what is this about?” asked the priest, irritation flickering over his features.

My face was cemented into a grin. I waved my finger at the priest. “Might as well take the rest of it off.”

“Rowyn!” exclaimed Tyrius, shocked, and I let out a tiny giggle.

I shrugged. “What?” I looked at the priest and smiled wickedly. “He started it.”

“This is a priest, not a male gigolo, for crying out loud,” said the cat and I could hear the laughter in his voice. “Get your hormones in check, woman.”

Father Thomas’s face turned tomato-red and I stifled another giggle. “Go put on a shirt,” I urged. “I can’t think with all that theological hotness in front of me. I might not be able to control my urges.”

“You’re a pain, Rowyn Sinclair.” Father Thomas disappeared into his house only to reappear a minute later buttoning a black shirt. “There,” he said, finishing the top button. “Satisfied?”

“Not in the least,” I said, grinning.

The priest frowned. “Are you here to explain what happened to the upstairs apartment?” His tone was all business and I sobered up immediately.

“Sorry about that,” I said, but that didn’t stop me from feeling guilty and responsible. If I hadn’t gone after the alpha werewolf, none of this would have happened. “I tried calling, but I kept getting your voicemail.”

The priest raked his fingers through his thick dark hair. “I turned my phone to vibrate so I could sleep.” His eyes went to Tyrius and then back to me. “Care to explain what happened?”

“Werewolves happened,” I began. “I was following up on a lead after the last crime scene and they weren’t too happy about it.” I hesitated in my lie for only a moment and hoped the priest hadn’t caught it. I was an idiot. Lisbeth’s threat was real. I couldn’t risk telling the priest the truth only to get him killed.

Father Thomas pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Werewolves,” said the priest, nodding his head. “I figured as much. I saw the claw marks on the door.”

“Don’t worry, Padre,” said Tyrius. “Rowyn will pay for the damages. Won’t you, Rowyn?”

Heat rushed to my face. “Of course,” I answered quickly. Hell, I didn’t have any money for what looked like a total kitchen renovation, some dry wall and not to mention I needed a new couch, kitchen table and chairs. And by the doubtful frown on the priest’s face, I had a feeling he knew that too. Besides, he was the only one who was feeding me work and signing the checks. And he could count.

I searched the priest’s tired face, seeing worry there. “Now that I see you’re okay, I’ll be leaving. I just want to pick up some clothes. I’ll sleep at my grandmother’s tonight and I’ll be back here first thing in the morning to clean up as much as I can.” My heart gave a thump. “I’m really sorry about the apartment. The kitchen...” God I hoped he didn’t kick me out. This was the nicest apartment by far that I could afford.

“Don’t worry about the kitchen,” Father Thomas said softly, seeing my distress. “The church will pay for the damages. There’s money set aside for these kinds of mishaps,” he added with a tiny smile. Immediately my tension eased in the dim light of the porch. That priest was way too good to me. And way too pretty.

“What about the werewolves,” asked Father Thomas, the corners of his eyes tightening. “Won’t they be back?”

“No,” informed Tyrius, and I looked at him surprised. “They’ve done what they came to do. It’s safe to say that they won’t be back to trash your place again. I guarantee it.”

Curious. Tyrius had just lied to the priest. I watched the baal demon and kept my face from showing any emotion. We both knew the werewolves would be back looking for me. But maybe Tyrius had meant only the priest. If the werewolves had wanted to hurt Father Thomas, they would have done it when they trashed my place.

The priest took a deep breath, exhaling quickly as he gathered his thoughts. “What do werewolves have to do with this?”

“I think the fact that he was a werewolf had everything to do with it,” I exhaled. “Young too. Very sad.”

Father Thomas was watching me, his intelligent dark eyes squinting in question. He knew something was up, just not what. “And you think a werewolf’s responsible for the killings?”

“It was just a small lead I wanted to check out,” I answered, unable to look at him. “A possible rogue werewolf. But I was wrong. A demon’s responsible.”

“Definitely demon,” informed the cat, his eyes widening. “Big one.”

The priest looked at Tyrius and then he met my eyes and frowned. “You’re sure it’s demon?”

“Positive,” both Tyrius and I answered. The priest didn’t have to know that my daddy dearest was responsible. I just hoped the archdemon had had enough fun with the half-breeds and would stop the horrific killings.

Father Thomas leaned back, and a flicker of emotion crossed the backs of his eyes. “I got a call from Detective Walsh earlier today. He had... a lot to say about your involvement with the cases. He told me he wouldn’t be needing your services anymore.”

“I know,” I exhaled. “He already told me. It’s not like I could tell him his victims were half-breeds or that the killer was a demon. He probably thinks I’ve been screwing with them... dragging things out to get more money out of police department.”

The priest nodded. “He did say something along those lines.”

Belligerently, I opened my mouth to protest, but he raised his hands and I swallowed back my complaint.

“Look, Rowyn. I know you couldn’t tell him the truth. I know you did your best. You always do. It’s why I asked you to investigate these killings in the first place.”

My teeth ground together, and I forced them apart. “Yeah, well, now I’m out of a paying client.”

“I’ll deal with the detective,” said the priest and shook his head. “It doesn’t have to be.” He looked at me across the threshold, his brown eyes almost black in the shadows. “Were you able determine which race of demon is responsible?”

Yup. And he’s one of my daddies. “We have a pretty good idea which demon did this. He won’t be killing anymore half-breeds.” I hope.

“He?” Father Thomas said, sounding more awake and a little alarmed.

“I mean it,” I corrected. Rowyn, you idiot. “I’ll take care of the demon. If Detective Walsh calls, you can tell him he can thank me later.”

“With a bonus,” said Tyrius, and I grinned at my furry friend.

The priest smiled, but I could see tension across his shoulders. “Can you handle the demon on your own, or should I get the Knights of Heaven involved?” He sounded angry but not at me, and I could hear a whisper of past arguments with the church on similar cases in his tone.

“Tyrius and I can handle it on our own,” I said. “But thanks.”

“It didn’t help that Jax and Ethan were there to mess things up,” said the cat and the priest’s gaze narrowed on the cat.

Father Thomas’s attention snapped to mine. “The angel-born were there?”

“Unfortunately. Always messing things up,” I said sourly. I quickly retold our encounters with Jax and his partner Ethan.

“Jax wants to use the human police as bait?” Surprise flashed across the priest’s face. “That doesn’t sound like Jax.”

“No, that sounds like a douche,” interjected Tyrius as he picked at something in his paw.

My anger at the angel-born returned, flaring in me in hot waves. “Jax hasn’t been the same since he came back from the Netherworld—”

“He’s even more of a douche,” sneered the cat and he spat out whatever he’d found stuck between the pads of his paw.

“He’s different,” I added, forcing the anger from my voice. “There’s an evil streak in him that wasn’t there before,” I continued. “It’s like he’s a totally different person.”

At that, the tight press of Father Thomas’s lips eased. The priest shifted on his feet, his features twisting in sorrow. “Demonic possession changes a person dramatically. Demonic power is far too much for a human body to withstand. It causes it to decay.”

I thought of the gift Lucian was prepared to give me, and I shivered.

“They can also have a harmful effect on the person’s biology,” said the priest, “affecting their blood, their organs. Overcoming demonic possession is incredibly rare and requires an incredibly strong emotional stimulus and very strong willpower.”

“What are you saying?” I asked. “You think Jax is infected or something?”

“Demons can leave a mark,” said the priest. “A mark on the person’s soul, sort of like an imprint of the demon in question. It can make Jax do things he wouldn’t normally do. And he wouldn’t have control over it. Not until the demon... flushes out of his system completely.”

“Makes sense.” I gave the priest a nod of my head. Yes, having the infuriating, trickster jinni Jeeves in his body probably was hard on Jax both physically and mentally. But I had a feeling his new shady self was due to his trip to the Netherworld, and not the jinni.

Father Thomas reached out and put a hand on my shoulder, mistaking my anger for sorrow for what happened to Jax. “Give him time. He’ll come around. You’ll see.” He gave my shoulder a squeeze.

I doubt that. Jax wasn’t my problem anymore. Let the angel-born deal with him.

Father Thomas let go of my shoulder and yawned, and I took that as my cue to leave.

“Go to bed, hot stuff,” I winked at the priest making him scowl. What can I say? The priest was hot, and I was a very naughty girl. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The priest’s eyes flashed. “Wait. I have something for you. Just a second, Rowyn, before I forget.” He dashed back into the dark foyer.

I glanced down at the cat, who gave me a small shrug, and went on to lick one of his toes.

Father Thomas reappeared in the doorway a moment later. A white envelope hung in his hand. “Here. Someone left this for you today. They slipped it under my door.”

A surge of panic welled in me as I took the envelope and glanced at it. ROWYN SINCLAIR was written in bold letters. The writing was elegant, female. I knew what it was and who sent it even before I opened it.

“Is everything all right, Rowyn?” came Father Thomas’s voice, his tone one of concern, though I wouldn’t meet his eyes. “You know who sent this letter?”

“Yes. Thanks. Good night,” I said, not bothering to look at the priest as I turned away and stepped off his porch. Blood pounding in my ears, I just wanted to get the hell away from the priest before he could read the guilt written all over my face. Before I got him in worse trouble than a ramshackle apartment.

Lisbeth was among the few old-world types that didn’t believe in honor. She believed in power without honor because she didn’t care how she got it, or who she killed to get it. And she would stop at nothing to get it. I stared down at the envelope, knowing that there was a name written on a piece of paper, the name of my next victim.

“Rowyn?” followed Tyrius’s voice, just as I heard the front door shut. “It’s from that old hag. Isn’t it? Demon balls. Why can’t she just leave you alone!”

“Because she thinks I actually killed Steven on purpose,” I whispered. “She thinks I killed him for her.” I was a fool. A goddamned fool.

I stepped off the last step and halted, staring at my name blurring in my trembling hands with my teeth clenching. Would I ever be rid of her? I knew she wouldn’t stop, and now the proof was in my hands. I had the name of the next poor SOB she wanted me to erase.

“Breathe, Rowyn,” soothed the cat. “You’re going green again. You know green doesn’t look good on you.”

I glanced down at the cat, feeling unreal, like a monster without even having taken the dark gift from Lucian. Tyrius was looking at me, eyes wide as though I might explode. Maybe I was.

“Go on. Open it.” Tyrius’s gaze jumped to mine, his anger lighting his eyes a dark blue. “It’s ugly. I know it’s ugly. I can feel it. You know I can feel these things. This one... this one is going to be bad, Rowyn. Really bad.... But you have to open it.”

I didn’t want to open it. Opening it would only lead to something worse than killing Steven. And what could be worse than ending the life of an innocent?

But what choice did I have? Swallowing my rage and fear, I ripped open the envelope, pulled out the small piece of paper the size of a business card—and my breath caught.

“Who is it?” prompted Tyrius. The dread in his voice sent my own fear skyrocketing through me. “Tell me, Rowyn!”

Jaw clenched, I crumbled the paper into a ball, met the cat’s startled gaze, and said, “She wants me to kill Danto.”