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Authors: Meljean Brook

Demon Bound (14 page)

BOOK: Demon Bound
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“My Gift doesn't always work that way—and I don't think your little Lucy can make me jump.” He straightened and looked at her, his gaze assessing. “Those demons at the temple were only planning to torture you.”
“Yes.”
“So you're assuming that Teqon won't try to kill you.”
She took a step back, crossed her arms. “Yes.”
“What if you're wrong? You can't trust a demon, can you?”
Blast. He knew he had her there. She shook her head.
“So I'll just hang around and watch your back.” His lips didn't curve, but Alice was certain he was smirking inside. “And this way, you're looking before you leap, being prepared—all of that smart Guardian stuff.”
The wretch. She opened her mouth, closed it. Admitting defeat, she urged Lucy out of her pocket.
Jake grinned and held out his hand. “Have you been to Cairo?”
Alice scooped up the widow and placed her in Jake's palm. “I was raised in the city. Why?”
“I haven't been. So I've got the idea of it in my head, the location—but nothing specific. It'll help if you focus on it, too, and give me a good anchor.”
She nodded and looked up into his face, attempted to call up an image from one of her recent visits. Perhaps of a jewelry stall in the marketplace, one that sold figurines and scarabs of lapis lazuli—Jake's eyes were the same deep blue.
Strange that she hadn't noticed before.
His fingers laced through hers. “And maybe you'll tell me why you're jumping into a demon's parlor.”
 
Flippin' hell. He'd teleported, no sweat—but this wasn't Egypt. They'd landed in a freezing attic, somewhere.
Jake let go of Alice's hand. Not wanting to see her disappointment, he didn't look at her—just pulled out his GPS.
The attic was big, but there was nothing unique about it. Wooden rafters. The style of the dust-covered chairs and tables suggested France or England—maybe the United States. Stars shone faintly through a small, high window, told him it was in the northern hemisphere. The sky was lightening with the approaching dawn. Definitely Europe.
The GPS said Manchester, Great Britain.
He glanced toward the other end of the attic, then stared. Jesus. Cobwebs filled the corners, hung like dirty veils from the rafters and between the posts of a huge, molding bed. And if that creepshow wasn't enough, restraints were tied to each post, and leather cuffs rotted against the sagging mattress.
“Leave,” Alice whispered beside him.
Jake frowned, turned to look at her—then had to focus over the images of Cairo that suddenly flooded his head.
Her eyes were closed, and she was shaking. “Leave now!”
He grabbed her hand, pulled her in tight. And pounded his Gift as hard as he could.
CHAPTER 6
An uncontrolled jump—and one bitch of a landing in a narrow alleyway. Jake barely had time to register the feel of Alice sprawled beneath him before she elbowed him off and scrambled up onto her knees.
Lucy sat in her hand, and Alice was whispering to the spider—but Jake thought she was trying to calm herself, too.
And he felt like shit now, dammit. “Look, Alice, I screwed up on that jump, and—”
“I put it there.” She stood, her face and back stiff. “I didn't control my thoughts, and put that location into your head. But we are here now, and it is forgotten.”
Yeah, right. That's why her heart was still beating like a jackrabbit's.
They'd jumped just after he'd asked her what the deal with Teqon was, and her thoughts had leapt to that location. But why would a woman raised in Egypt and with an American father think of England?
That creepy attic hadn't been touched in the past twenty years, since Alice had returned to Earth from Caelum. Whatever took place in that attic had happened when she'd been human.
So the question was: Had that bed been hers, or had it belonged to someone she'd known?
He watched her, but hadn't a clue to her thoughts. Her emotions were blocked, and her expression was carefully neutral as she took in the tenements rising high on both sides of the alley, the rickety carts, the drying clothes strung over their heads.
“We are obviously in the eastern part of the city,” she said. “How far to the demon's home?”
He consulted the GPS. “About half a kilometer southwest.”
“Shall we walk, then?”
Jake got to his feet, slapped the dust of the alley floor off his ass. He sniffed, and slapped harder. It was more than dust.
“You will need to change your clothing, anyway,” Alice said. Her robes and head scarf from the temple were back, and she'd darkened her skin and eyes. “A white man is still noticed in these older sections of Cairo, especially among the street children.”
So he needed to look local. He shifted into the first form his mind grabbed hold of, and Alice's mouth flattened.
“You still look foreign.”
He knew from news feeds that his loose jeans and button-down cotton shirt were unremarkable, so it must have been his face. “But it's Omar Sharif. You know, from
Lawrence of Arabia.
”
She frowned. “Is that an Egyptian actor?”
“Yeah, he's from—” Okay, he wasn't sure. And maybe he'd put a little too much Peter O'Toole into it, anyway. “Forget it.”
He tried another. Alice raised her eyes to the heavens, then strode to the mouth of the alley.
Jake followed her, fighting his grin. “Come on. It's Yul Brynner. You should have stars in your eyes.”
“Are you trying to put stars in my eyes, novice?”
“Do I look crazy?”
Damn. That probably hadn't been the best response—because he
did
want to see something in her eyes besides disapproval.
Better yet, he wanted them closed, her skirts up around her waist, and her dancer's legs wrapped around him. Those black stockings and witch boots were optional.
Yeah, he was flippin' insane.
She stopped, faced him. “You look like an overly handsome man who will bring attention to us, and alert the demon of our approach before we arrive.”
Screw this, then. Jake shifted back into his own form, then did what she had, simply darkening his skin and eyes.
Alice's lips thinned. “That hardly solves the problem.”
She stalked out into the street. Jake weaved through the busy foot traffic after her, pretty damn sure she'd just called him handsome. Maybe overly handsome.
Hot dog.
“At the very least, grow your hair out,” she said when he caught up. “And a heavy mustache. Roll up your shirtsleeves, and wear a watch. A cheap one, so that you do not attract thieves.”
He studied the men sitting outside a café, and walked around an exhaust-belching bus to conceal the transformation.
She eyed him critically, then nodded. “How is your Arabic?”
“Nonexistent.”
He could've sworn that relief flashed over her prim expression, but her reply was pure sourpuss. “I suppose you focused on the Romance languages first. The novices from America and Western Europe so often do, as those are the easiest for them to learn.”
“That's true,” he said, refusing to be baited. He'd have bet anything that she wanted to piss him off so bad he'd leave. “I did pick those up first.”
Before working his way west across Asia. Arabic and Swahili were up next, but he wouldn't say so. He was starting to enjoy watching her bloomers twist into a knot.
“Arabic is spoken by a quarter of a billion humans, novice. You should make an effort to learn it if you plan to be active in this region.”
“Golly gee, Alice. You're right—I should get on that. Maybe you'll volunteer to tutor me.”
She slanted him a narrowed look. “I don't think so.”
Dangerous ground, but he stepped on it. “Do you tutor anyone now?”
“No. How much farther?”
Yeah, now he was pissing
her
off. Even in these twisting streets, she could estimate distance as well as he could. He made a show of checking his watch and glancing up at the sun before pulling out his GPS. “Okay, yeah. We've been walking about one minute. So, go figure, we've still got a little less than half a kilometer to go.”
She pulled in a breath through her teeth.
He had to hand it to her; that was pretty brave. A brown haze filled the sky, so God knew what she'd just sucked into her lungs while controlling her temper. Even a Guardian might choke on it.
And it did sound as if she was strangling when she said, “Thank you, novice.”
Jake grinned at her back as she set off at a walk again—smoothly now. Trying to appear inconspicuous, probably, but she still didn't look completely human. She hadn't increased her pace to an inhuman speed, but she was practically gliding, as if her limbs were weightless beneath her robe.
Her legs. Jesus. He needed to get his head from under her skirts. Which meant he was going to take a flying leap into a minefield.
“So,” he said, catching up. “They all Ascended, and because of that, you don't take on new pupils. Tell me, Alice—is that avoiding the situation, or learning to avoid the same outcome?”
Yep. The look she gave him should've made mincemeat of his dick.
Should've, but didn't. “You could take me on, get back on that horse, try riding again,” he continued.
“How brave you are to offer, novice. And how generous.”
Mincemeat, and her tone could've frozen the rest. “Yeah, I'm all heart. But you wouldn't have to worry about me—I don't intend to Ascend anytime soon. And if it makes you feel better, every single person in Caelum that I had sex with decided to Ascend, too.”
“Oh, dear.” She stopped and looked up at him. “You're so terrible?”
“So good.” He grinned. “Everything after me is a letdown—the only thing better is Heaven. So off they went.”
“And there is your optimism again.” Her lips curved, but she quickly firmed their line and moved past him. “But as I also have no intention of Ascending, I'll be certain to avoid
that
situation, as well.”
Yeah. He'd figured that. But a man could hope.
 
He wasn't going to leave. Alice fought through her rising guilt as they neared Teqon's residence. She shouldn't involve Jake in this, in any way.
What an excellent Guardian he made; choosing to stand beside her, though she gave him ample reason to go. And he'd served as a welcome distraction through the streets, so that she'd had no time to despond over the upcoming confrontation. Instead of arriving at Teqon's door weakened by doubts and fear, she was fueled by antagonism and no small amount of frustration.
How could she like Jake so well—and yet want to take her blade to his tongue so that he'd never speak again?
Not that it would matter; a Guardian's tongue would grow back.
Conceal yourself,
she signed as they rounded the final corner.
I truly don't think my life is in danger, but he might try to make an example of yours.
Jake appraised her silently, then nodded.
I'll be listening.
She walked briskly across the small square, surprised that Teqon didn't reside in the more modern and expensive part of the city. Demons were so aware of appearances, and preferred to surround themselves with power and wealth. But perhaps Teqon had chosen it because the disparity of wealth was more obvious here; squalor was a constant neighbor, the gap between them wider.
Her gaze swept the area as she waited for an answer to her knock. A young beggar girl now sat where Jake had been standing. He would have no trouble hearing everything inside Teqon's house.
Footsteps approached on the opposite side of the door. A human, or Teqon? Though Alice revealed herself when she used a psychic probe to find out, at least she was prepared to face the demon when he opened it.
He'd silvered the hair at his temples, but he still appeared as young and handsome as any film star. More so, perhaps. His lashes were so thick and black that the first time she'd seen them, she'd wondered if he'd lined them with kohl. He was tall, as demons so often made themselves. His business suit of dove gray silk had been tailored perfectly to his form.
But then, through his connection to Legion Laboratories, Teqon was now—as he had only pretended to be when she'd met him—a man of importance and money.
Alice shifted into her own features, and vanished the robes over her dress. “You have not changed at all, demon,” she said in Arabic.
As she'd hoped, Teqon responded in the same language. “But you have, Mrs. Grey. You are stronger, faster, immortal—and I believe you owe me thanks for it.”
“I owe you only one thing, and gratitude it is not.”
He stepped back, holding the door open. “Then come inside, and we shall discuss how you will pay me.”
His house was of wood and marble, with rich, colorful fabrics upholstering the furniture. There were humans in the house—servants, Alice guessed. A wife, perhaps. Though they could have no children of their own, some demons augmented their masquerade by marrying into human families.
As she'd expected, the main rooms of the house opened up to an interior courtyard. A fountain bubbled near its center—there would likely be vegetation, shelter, insects.
“Shall we speak in the courtyard? I prefer to feel the sun.”
Teqon gave her a mocking smile. “And there is no roof, so you might escape.”
“If I must.”
The demon turned his back on her as he led the way outside. Rage and shame burned in Alice's throat. Any other demon would have been in pieces on the floor after offering such an easy target.
BOOK: Demon Bound
13.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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