Well, maybe it could be a little better—especially if Madelyn were dead. Especially if Ash or Nicholas were the ones to slay her. But she’d settle for dead, and be happy no matter who did it.
A block away from the café, she vanished the books into her cache. Easy now, just as forming her clothes or her wings were. Her eyes rarely glowed unless she wanted them to, and her fangs appeared with a thought. The only difficulty she had wasn’t looking demonic, it was looking too much like herself—if she wasn’t careful, her hair reverted to blond and grew to the middle of her back again. The Guardians had stopped buying the brown dye by the box and ordered it by the carton, instead.
Another two blocks of run-down warehouses and apartments brought her to Special Investigations’ large fenced lot. The building didn’t look any different than the others in the neighborhood—deliberately, she was told. Demons preferred to be surrounded by money and luxury, so they wouldn’t come into this area unless necessary.
Ash didn’t care about luxury, though it was nice. She did like money, however, so she’d gotten the demon thing half right.
A four-inch-thick steel door provided the first line of defense for the warehouse. Rigged with enough electricity to fry anyone with an elevated temperature on the spot, she avoided electrocution by swiping her keycard. As soon as she and the hellhound passed through the entrance, Sir Pup doubled in size and his two other heads appeared, tongues lolling from each massive jaw. Though her psyche and emotions were already shielded from detection, now she blocked all emotions coming from others. The Guardians had been surprised that she’d walked through London absorbing all of those human feelings, but even though they’d taught her to block them, she liked to open herself during the visits to the café. People were too fascinating to shut them out.
But although the Guardians and vampires at SI were fascinating, she couldn’t bear to allow them to bombard her. Not anymore. It was all too painful.
From the first day, she’d sensed a tension hanging over the warehouse, related to the Guardians’ missing leader, Michael. They’d been focused, determined. Fear and anxiety lay beneath that determination, but it hadn’t been overwhelming.
Then, three weeks after Ash had arrived at the warehouse, she’d been training with the novices in the gymnasium when a thin, spidery woman had stumbled through the Gate in the hallway—the portal that led to Caelum, but that Ash couldn’t cross through or even sense. Bleeding from her head, the woman had fallen to the floor, her black dress billowing around her.
She’d looked at them, clearly dazed. “The whole of the Boreas shore has just crumbled into the sea. How very odd.”
Her words had sent the novices swarming through the Gate to see. Ash had been left to help the Guardian—Alice—to her feet, and to make certain that she made her way to the main offices without tumbling over.
Since then, reports of falling spires and collapsing arches had been delivered to SI with increasing regularity, and the Guardians’ growing terror and desperation pressed like a knife against Ash’s tongue. She couldn’t feel the desperation herself, but she understood theirs. Two enormous paintings of the realm hung in Lilith’s office, an unimaginably beautiful city of sparkling marble domes and columned temples, set against the bluest sky Ash had ever seen. She also understood that their horror didn’t just stem from the shattering of that beautiful realm, but that the destruction was connected to Michael, too—who was being tortured in the frozen field.
That horrified Ash. And though she’d gladly have given Lilith and Hugh information when they asked how Lucifer had brought her out of the frozen field, she had nothing to tell them. Ash simply didn’t know.
Now, with her mind blocked, she waited for the various scans—temperature, fingerprints, retinal—to finish confirming her identity before forming her wings and heading toward the gym. The offices were busy, as they always were, with voices coming from every side. She’d learned to push them into the background, and typically only noticed when someone spoke her name.
Today, it wasn’t her name that caught her attention, but a thread through the jumble of noise that made her breath stop, her heart pound.
—St. Croix attempted to contact her yesterday—
That was Taylor’s voice, but it wasn’t coming from the direction of the offices. Ash turned down the hallway to the tech room, where Taylor and Lilith stood behind a Guardian sitting at a long table topped by monitors and keyboards. Sir Pup trotted ahead to meet Lilith, who greeted him with a smile and a scratch at his ears.
At the computer, Jake glanced over at Ash. “You came back just in time. Whenever Lilith stands this close to me, I get the feeling that she’s going to start using me as her dog and rub my head, instead.”
“You wish, pup.”
“No, I don’t. I really, really don’t.” He put a protective hand over his shaved hair and edged away. “Sir Pup would probably bite my face off out of jealousy.”
Ash thought the laughing chuff from the hellhound sounded like agreement. Taylor’s lips curved faintly in response, but not enough that Ash considered it a smile. Of late, everything about the woman seemed faint, and though Ash couldn’t see any measurable physical change, the impression of Taylor’s fragility increased with every report of a cracked column and crumbling dome, as if she stood on the verge of collapsing herself.
From what Ash knew of Taylor, it wouldn’t happen. The former detective would continue standing upright through sheer will—and chase down demons while doing it. Hopefully, that demon would soon be the one Ash most wanted to die.
“Was that Madelyn you were speaking about?” When all three lifted their brows in unison, Ash clarified, “I heard Taylor say that Nicholas tried to contact someone. Me? Because if he was, then that wasn’t Nicholas. He wouldn’t risk me like that. It would have to be Madelyn, fishing.”
“It was St. Croix,” Lilith said. “But he was trying to reach Rosalia.”
The disappointment that slid across her chest didn’t make sense. It was best that he didn’t try to contact her. Still, Ash wished to hear the sound of his voice, the rough start of his laugh.
It wasn’t all disappointment, though. There was also relief. “So that means you know where he is, and that he’s okay.”
“He’s all right,” Jake said. “And we’ve had a rough idea of his whereabouts since he left the cabin.”
“Oh. Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“You didn’t ask.”
“I didn’t think anyone would know.”
But no, that wasn’t precisely it. After all, the Guardians had found them at the cabin by sending Sir Pup after Nicholas’s scent trail, all the way from Minnesota. Their computer techs had unearthed texts sent to unregistered phones. So, yes, if they wanted to, they could track Nicholas.
Yet now that she thought about it, everyone had carefully avoided any mention of Nicholas at all—so she’d equated their silence on the topic with a lack of information, a sign that they’d had nothing to give. They’d offered everything else so readily, so why not—
Oh. Oh. All right, so her emotions had taken a dive as soon as she’d walked away from Nicholas, and she’d been crying when she’d been teleported away from the cabin. There might have been a bucket of tears. It might have been ugly. But when had Ash given them the impression that she was fragile? Screw that.
“I’d rather you didn’t conceal anything about him from me. I’d much rather know, no matter what it is.” A thought occurred to her, seized her chest. Why had he needed Rosalia? Had they concealed the truth of that from her, too? “Is he hurt?”
“No. He’s been busy.” Amusement sharpened Lilith’s features. “Looking for Madelyn, of course, but where he doesn’t find her, he’s doing a bit of cleaning along the way.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that he’s been searching for Madelyn for a while,” Jake said, “and while he did that, he must have come across other demons. Taking them out would have been pretty damn risky—the wrong bit of evidence, he doesn’t hide a body well enough—so he likely chose to keep on looking for Madelyn rather than heading for jail. Now, he’s going back and essentially tagging them and bagging them.”
Oh, God. “Isn’t that still risky?”
“Not so much when he’s got Rosalia on speed dial. He shoots them full of hellhound venom, calls her up, she comes and takes care of it. Three that way so far, but this last one, he couldn’t get ahold of her. So he finished slaying the demon himself.”
“Beheading,” Lilith said. “Effective. Then he finally got in touch with Rosalia, and she came to take care of it.”
A first kill. Demon or not, that couldn’t be easy. “How was he? All right?”
Taylor turned her back to the table, sat lightly against the edge. “Do you really think he’d let Rosalia know if he wasn’t?”
“No.” Ash would bet that he’d been all Stone Cold St. Croix. Maybe his therapist would hear what his response had been. She doubted anyone else would. “Why is he doing it, do you think? Why not just Madelyn?”
Had it become more important to him, seeing all demons destroyed for what they’d done—to prevent it from happening again? Or was there another reason?
“Why has he become a demon-bagging Batman?” Jake asked. “Speaking as a guy, I can give you three reasons right now. One: your hair. Two: your lips. Three: your tit—”
Too fast even for Ash to track, Sir Pup’s right head shot out and his jaws snapped an inch from Jake’s face. The Guardian’s eyes widened. Smashing his lips together, he glanced at Lilith. A five-dollar bill appeared in his hand.
Lilith took the money with a smile. “I think what Jake means to say is that St. Croix’s obviously crazy about you. Hugh told me all that stuff St. Croix said at the cabin about protecting you was true.”
Ash didn’t need Hugh to tell her that. “I know.”
“So, this is probably part of it. Maybe’s he’s practicing to take out Madelyn. Maybe he’s making certain that none of these demons come after you, like others have been going after Radha. Maybe he’s just making certain the other demons don’t kill Madelyn first—because if one did and we never found out about it, we’d never know whether we can let you go.”
“He’s a cold bastard—no offense, Ash.” Taylor threw her a quick look before focusing on Lilith again. “But like Joe, he’d be one hell of a useful human here at SI. You should think about recruiting him after we settle this thing with Madelyn.”