Sanctuary

Ryleigh crouched in the abandoned house, listening. All that came to her was the rough sound of Nate's breathing and the occasional thrum of car engines on the street outside. The place stank of mold and dust, not to mention dead things in the walls. The windows were covered with a thick layer of filth. But other than rats and pigeons, it was empty, a trait she valued above other qualities at the moment.

She and Nate had taken a circuitous route to his favorite hiding spot, with no signs that they were being followed.

Knowing that Drakat had seen them, the lack of attention worried Ryleigh. The hope that the demoness would assume her minion was lying about the stone was so thin she could have poked holes in it with a dessert spoon.

"Nate, we need food and water. Where's the closest store?"

"You can't go out there, Miss. What if that lady demon finds you? She'll be looking, yeah?"

"She might," Ryleigh admitted. "Or she might not. Either way, we can't keep running. We need to come up with a plan and for that, our bodies and brains need nourishment."

"I'll get it then," he said, his small face scrunching with determined bravery. "I got ya into this. I'll be getting ya out."

"I appreciate it, I really do, but the truth is, Dra— The demoness isn't after me." Ryleigh's eyes lost focus as she thought it through, speaking her musings aloud. "Grag fingered you for the theft. And he told her about the broach." She didn't mention that, if the demoness had either of their full names, she could locate them as easily as blinking. Luckily, Ryleigh didn't think either of the infernals knew Nate's name, and Drakat only had Ryleigh's first name from their previous meeting.

"So, why ain't she chasing us?" Nate asked. Ryleigh suspected he'd already guessed the answer, but was hoping she had another explanation.

"She knows where I live, so she'll go to Trócaire House to see if I'll lead her to you. When she doesn't find either of us there, then she'll start looking."

Nate swallowed hard, his fine black hair making his features look even paler in the dim light. "You think she'll hurt anyone at the house?"

"I think she'll send Grag instead of going herself. He started this; she'll want to punish him by making him finish it. But Grag isn't going to hurt anyone. Not with Imogen there." She took a deep breath, hoping hard that she was right. If anything happened to Imogen or their unborn child... She couldn't think about that or she'd lose her mind. "At least she'll send Grag the first time. When he doesn't find anything—" Taking in Nate's worried look, she cut off her thought mid-sentence. "Which is why we have to figure this out quick. We have the advantage right now, but that won't last."

"We could always give her what she wants," Nate said.

"No. She'd kill us just to make sure it stayed a secret." Ryleigh took the broach out of her purse and turned it over in the dim light. "Not to mention what she might do with it afterward."

Nate's eyes glinted like a true grifter planning a big con. "I didn't say we needed to be present to hand it over. But listen, you said it ain't ours, yeah? You said it had to be gifted, inherited or taken by killing the owner. We didn't do none of that. So, it ain't ours, right?"

"True. Even if we gave it to Drakat, she wouldn't own it, so she can't command it."

"Right. No harm in handing it over then."

"Sure, unless Grag owns it, in which case, all she has to do is kill him, and it's hers by bloodright."

"OK, but I'm betting he stole it, so it ain't his neither. He ain't got the look of a killer, imp or no."

"You could be right. And then handing it over costs nothing, unless and until she figures out how to bind it to her." Ryleigh leveled a steady gaze on him. "Then all hell breaks loose and it's our fault."

Nate swallowed hard, the gleam fading from his eyes. "You think she could do that?"

"I think she wouldn't stop until she figured it. Demons are powerful, even the lesser ones, and the countess is an elder demon. Binding a soul stone to her might not be easy, but you can bet she'd find a way, eventually."

Nate slumped to the floor. "That is not what I wanted to hear."

THE POLITICAL HIERARCHY of demon kind is similar to that of human nobility. At the lowest level are non-office holders — servants of those above them rather than constituents or tenants. Above that are six levels: baron, viscount, count, duke, prince, and emperor. Territories are divided by population, since demons measured their power by the number of souls under their sway. The larger the population of souls an individual has within their territory, the greater their prestige and power in the demon community.

There is only one emperor, but the Earth is littered with countries, each one a principality according to the demonic political map. Ireland is a principality. Dublin, her largest city, is a duchy.

As the second largest city, Belfast is the only demonic county in the country. If this Drakat was countess of Belfast, we were in for more trouble than I'd counted on.

Though demons of any caliber had no real authority over any other species, their power, especially within their own territory, was considerable, since they could call on all demons below them for aid. Worse, their reputation as a crafty, insidious species was well-earned. Even a simple conversation with one of them endangered a person's soul.

That Drakat was a countess also meant that she was an elder demon. The title and the rank didn't always go together, but I was betting that in a comparatively small country like Ireland the competition between demons was fierce. She'd have to be an elder just to survive and hold on to her seat, let alone ascend to the next level.

The struggle for power was the be-all end-all of demon existence, and I'd never heard of one who let ethical considerations interfere with taking every drop of it they could get.

Grag had fallen into a weeping fit, muttering complaints and curses between sobs as snot dribbled from his nose onto the rug. "She will kill me, sure as Cerberus guards Hades' gate. Should never have told her I had it. No. Should have kept it in my pocket, not my pack. Stupid sneak thief baggage! Now she'll destroy me, eat my heart and have my soul for dessert."

I used the toe of my boot to push him over onto his back. "What did you have, Grag?"

He shrieked and twisted as if mortally wounded, even though I'd barely touched him.

"Knock it off." I crouched next to him. "That crap isn't going to work on me, and right now, you really need me on your side. So, if you want any hope of coming out of this in one piece, you need to talk to me."

"You can't protect me from Drakat. She will grind you up and have her servants make bread from your bones. She will drink your blood. She will—"

"No, she won't," I said, interrupting. "You're the one who lost the toy she wants, so you're the one she'll be mad at. How do you feel about being baked into a nice warm loaf?"

He went silent for a moment, his eyes glittering darkly. "Soul stones are not toys, girl. And Drakat already knows who took the time stone. I'm to bring it to her. If you wish to keep your skull and your soul intact, you'll hand over the Caraigama and let me return to her."

Cole and I shared a look. Doirsain and Solcruth were soul stones. Two of only seven in existence. Shawn told me that our family held three, the fae king controlled one and the family of his imprisoned enemy another. That covered five. The other two were reputedly lost, and had been for centuries. Could this rude, misshapen monster have found one of them? How?

Suspicious, I turned my attention back to Grag. "I can't give you what I don't have," I said. "Your pack isn't here."

"Liar!!" Grag screeched. "The thief lives here, and so does his mistress. I tracked her scent here, and followed his to this room myself."

"I'm sure you did, but you didn't think they'd come back here knowing Drakat is on their trail, did you?"

"Grag is on their trail. Me! And I will find them and the stone will buy my freedom!" Desperation coated the words and I waited a moment until he stopped struggling against the ley line bonds before going on.

"About this so-called time stone? Where did you get it?"

Grag went still, glaring at me with a calculating intensity I found disturbing. Cunning darkened the bulbous eyes, and his expression turned sly. "Wouldn't you like to know? And why shouldn't you? You're the root of the whole thing, after all. If it weren't for you, I'd never have found it."

Shocked, I pulled back, the bonds I'd created thinning as my concentration slipped. With a cry, Grag rolled away from me and straight into the open bag of chips, wallowing in the salt-laden crumbs. With a crackle of released energy, the ley line cords snapped and disappeared, a wave of displaced energy washing outward, rocking me.

I lost my balance and fell on my butt as Grag scrambled for the nearest exit. In this case, that meant the room's only source of natural light — an arched window of lead-paned glass. "Grab him!" I shouted, but Cole was already moving to intercept.

Grag rolled to his feet, hefted a book from the rug and flung it at Cole's head, all in one surprisingly smooth motion. Imogen bolted to her feet, but I grabbed her hand. A fight was no place for a pregnant woman. She gave me a look of irritation and tugged her arm free, but it was too late.

A shattering crash shook the room as Grag bounced off Billy's mattress, rolling into a ball and smashing through the window to freedom.

I ran to the window and joined Cole. We watched helplessly as Grag rolled down the steep roof, hooking his fingers on a rain gutter to slow his descent. Hanging there, he looked up, cackling.

"You'll be sorry you didn't help me, girl. Drakat always gets what she wants. She will this time, too. You'll see."

Swinging his legs, he jumped into a nearby tree and shinnied to the ground. A moment later, he disappeared through the gates.

I turned around to face the room. I needed information. "I think it's time for me to talk to Amaryllis."