“We could all die today,” Eve drawled, dropping her hand. The wolf shifted into his nak*d human form and she whistled.
Alec gritted his teeth. “It’s not polite to stare.”
“I have a better chance of dying than most,” the lili retorted, glaring at Eve. She turned her demonic green gaze to Alec. “You suck. I thought older brothers were supposed to be protective.”
“If I’m older than you,” he countered, “I’m not your brother.”
Eve’s mouth fell open.
“You could act on the principle of it,” the lili argued.
“She’s a lilin,” he explained to Eve, grabbing her elbow with his free hand and tugging her away from the blatantly interested wolf. “One hundred of them die daily. They never know when their number is going to be up.”
“Brother?”
“She wishes,” he scoffed. “My dad hasn’t talked to Lilith in ages. And that lili is too impetuous to be older than me.”
“I’m confused. Who’s Lilith?”
Alec looked at the receptionist just as she was lifting the phone receiver from its cradle. “Cain’s here,” she said to whoever had answered. She beamed at Alec, then winked. Wrapped around that flirtatious eye was the detail that labeled her a werewolf, formerly under the rule of Mammon, the demon god of avarice.
“Lilith was my dad’s first wife.” Alec hefted the punch bowl and directed Eve down the hall. The sound of their booted footfalls on the polished concrete echoed ahead of them. Behind them, furious whispers followed.
Eve’s sloe eyes widened. “First wife? I thought Adam had Eve, and that was it.”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”
“No, seriously. Why didn’t I know that? No one’s ever told me that.”
“Angel.” Alec opened a glass inset door that said Forensic Wiccanology in gold sticker lettering. “One thing at a time.”
Inside the room, the overhead lights were out. Pendant lamps hung over various island stations, spotlighting specific work areas.
“Cain!” The coarseness of the voice was reminiscent of Larry King and it originated from the distant right corner. “It’s been far too long since you came to see me.”
Alec’s head turned to find the robe-clad crone who approached with a shuffling stride. As she moved from the shadows into the light, she changed from a hunch-back into a lovely, willowy redhead. Her robe altered from an all-encompassing shroud to a tightly fit and strategically cut gown.
“Hello, Hank,” Alec greeted. He held out the punch bowl. “I need you to find the Nix who touched this.”
Hank’s full lips curved in a winsome smile. “I’ll do my best.” She looked at Eve, her head tilting. She shifted form again, taking on the appearance of a firmly muscled, carrot-topped male. The gown changed into a black dress shirt and matching slacks. “Nice to meet you.”
Eve blinked rapidly. “Hi.”
Alec touched her elbow. “Evangeline, meet Hank. Hank, this is Eve.”
“Hi, Eve.” Hank licked his lips.
Eve waved lamely.
“We’ll check in later,” Alec said, pulling Eve toward the door.
“Bring her with you when you come back.” As Hank moved away, his form returned to that of a stooped crone.
Once they were in the hall, Eve took a deep breath and wondered if the stench of Infernals was affecting her brain. She looked at Alec. “I feel like one of my teenage acid trips has come back to haunt me.”
“Not possible.”
“What is Hank?”
“An occultist. A demon who specializes in the magical arts and tapping into the power that threads through all of nature.”
“No, I meant is it male or female?”
Alec shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
“Great. What is this place?” She tried breathing through her mouth to avoid smelling anything, but it was pointless. The odor was steeped into the walls. “Unless my nose is completely wrong, I’d say most of these beings are demonic.”
“Your nose isn’t wrong.” He pointed down the hall. “It’s an amalgamation of things. Various Infernal entities are kept here because they’re useful in some way.”
“Kept?” Eve took in her surroundings with an examining eye. The lower level of Gadara Tower reminded her of a fifties film noir with its muted lighting, inlaid glass doors, and smoky air.
“Some are held against their will,” Alec clarified, “others come by choice, because they want protection. There’s no such thing as honor among the damned. If you piss off the wrong guy, they’ll hunt you down.”
“You don’t have to tell me that,” she muttered, noting the occasional alcoves that boasted widows featuring a nighttime view of a metropolis. It was amazingly believable, but it was still daylight up above. “Is that real?”
“No. Most Infernals go nuts if they feel confined in any way. They prefer night to day, so that’s what Raguel went with.” Alec paused before a new door labeled Orange County Power and Water Management. Eve frowned, knowing that there was no such entity. He knocked and they waited. “The illusion of being topside keeps them functioning properly.”
The door swung open, revealing a young, lanky man standing behind a desk situated directly before the door. He wore gray overalls with his last name—Wilson—embroidered on the breast and military-grade “birth control” glasses; nicknamed for their ability to make anyone look like shit. Beyond him, a partition blocked the view of the rest of the interior. Filing cabinets flanked his left and a large potted palm tree flanked his right. The air escaping the room smelled like cotton candy, which told Eve the man was a Mark and not an Infernal.
“Cain,” Wilson said, smiling. “What can I do for you?”
Eve snorted softly. Alec entered a room and everyone started kowtowing. With every day that passed, the image she’d long held of an evil, reviled Cain wore away.
She was bringing up the rear when a group of three Marks rounded the corner—two females and one male. The girls were sporting an odd sort of look consisting of jungle boots, black parachute pants, and strategically ripped tanks in bright colors. The man wore jeans and a baby blue polo shirt. In unison, their gazes raked her from head to toe.
“She’s not all that,” one gal said to the other with a wrinkle of her nose.
“Cain gets all the p**sy,” the male said. “I hear Asian chicks are hot in bed.”
“Excuse me?” Eve said.
“There’s no excuse for sleeping your way to the top,” hissed the second girl as they passed.
Eve turned to watch them go, feeling an odd mixture of anger and nausea. “There’s no excuse for those clothes you’re wearing either,” she called after them. “News flash: the eighties ended a couple decades ago.”
“Angel?” Alec’s voice drew her gaze. He held a clipboard in his hands. “What are you doing?”
“Lagging.” She left the hallway and the door clicked shut behind her.
“Come on.” Alec held the paperwork out to her. “Fill out your parents’ information. And yours.”
She looked at the form, noting that it asked for name, address, and phone number for up to three individuals. “Okay.”
He smiled. His expression was warm and pleased, telling her how much he appreciated her obedience. That surprised her, considering how easily he accepted the same from everyone else. He seemed more comfortable in command than Gadara did. Gadara manipulated to get what he wanted; Alec simply expected that his orders would be followed.
Alec looked at Wilson. “We have a Nix problem.”
“We’ll take care of it.”
Eve looked up at him. “How?”
“As with any possible infestation,” Wilson said, “we prevent the pest from gaining access in the first place. In the case of Nixes, we insert a deterrent into the main water pipe to the residence.”
“After you do that, can I take down the crosses I have hanging in my showers?”
“You could.” Wilson smiled. “It would only be a benefit to you, though, to keep them up.”
She looked at Alec. “Since I’m living in a Gadaramanaged building, why didn’t I have something like that in place to begin with? It would have saved Mrs. Basso’s life.”
“We don’t work like that.” He pushed his hands into his jeans pockets. “Imagine if Infernals set up a barrier in the town of Baker, California. It would effectively prevent Marks from traveling between Nevada and California. We have to work case by case, Infernal by Infernal. Otherwise, we’d end up battling for territory, which would put mortals in the crossfire. We—Marks and Infernals both—need mortals to survive. Since we have a mutual need, we make certain concessions.”
Her pen tapped against the clipboard.
He rocked back on his heels. “When, in the last two days, did we have a chance to come in here? Besides, you were safe with me. I never thought he’d hit your neighbor.”
The phone rang on Wilson’s desk and he answered it. Eve returned her attention to filling out the paperwork.
“They’re right here,” Wilson said into the receiver. “Yes, of course. I’ll tell them.” He hung up. “Raguel will be calling in ten minutes. He wants you to take the call in his office.”
Alec nodded. Eve passed over the clipboard.
Wilson’s gaze was sympathetic behind his glasses. “I’ll send someone out immediately.”
“Send two people simultaneously,” she suggested, “so there’s no one to follow from my house to my parents and vice versa.” She set the pen on his desk. “Will whatever you’re doing keep my parents safe?”
“The Nix doesn’t know where they live,” Alec reminded. “If he did, he would have gone after them instead of Mrs. Basso. Can he find another way in? Yes. If he finds them and he has the time, he can work it out. But this will slow him down. Hopefully long enough for Hank to find him.”
She nodded. As far as feeling better went, it wasn’t much, but what else did she have?
“One thing at a time,” Alec repeated in a murmur. “We’re dealing with the Nix. Now, we’ll go upstairs and deal with Raguel. We’ll get it all done. Trust me.”
Her mouth curved ruefully. “You’re good at this, you know. It’s a shame you’re stuck with someone clueless like me. You should be managing bigger fish.”
Alec’s face closed, although his pleasant mien did not change. It was more of a feeling she had of a sudden withdrawal, as if she’d struck a deep chord.
The sensation set her mind spinning. By the time they returned to the elevator, she’d thought of something she hadn’t before: if nothing was a coincidence, how was it that she lived in a building for which Gadara was the trustee?
Had he been lying in wait for her? If so, what was the event or purpose that set her marking in motion?
And what would it take to be free of it?
CHAPTER 16
Hello, Cain. Ms. Hollis.”
As the elevator emptied Eve and Alec into the antechamber of Gadara’s office, the archangel’s secretary greeted them with a wide smile. He was an elderly man, one who appeared a wee bit past the retirement age. He smelled like a Mark, though, which made Eve wonder what he could have done to get into trouble so late in life. “Can I get you both something to drink?” he offered. “Coffee, perhaps? Or a soda?”
Eve declined. Alec simply shook his head.
The secretary led them into Gadara’s office and gestured for them to occupy the two chairs before Gadara’s desk. He used a keypad to lower the projection screen and dim the lights. Eve was once again taken aback by the size of the room. It was cavernous and richly appointed. As an interior designer, she was well aware that a person’s preference in room size and shape said a great deal about him. Gadara obviously felt a need to astonish and impress. How much of that was directed toward the mortals he did business with? And how much of it was for the benefit of the Marks under his command?
“A penny for your thoughts,” Alec said, once the secretary had left.
“I’m not sure they’re worth that.” Her tone was as dry as her palms. After all she had been through the last several days, she should be a nervous wreck.
“Are you okay?”
Eve looked at him, noting that even in poor lighting Alec was drop-dead gorgeous. The planes of his face were strong and bold, but softened slightly by his overly long hair. She could get used to seeing his face every day. If she let herself. “I don’t think everything has sunk in yet. Ask me again, once we’ve had a chance to settle down.”
A soft beeping noise filled the air, then the screen flickered to life. Gadara’s face appeared. His dark skin and eyes held a wealth of majesty and a touch of divine refinement that was enchanting. Eve was once again arrested by the sheer force of his charisma, evident even across the digital signal that broadcast him. Behind him was a window, and beyond that was a view she recognized immediately—the Las Vegas strip. He was dressed in a suit and tie today, and the more formal look suited him. It complemented his air of power and affluence.
“We’ve got a problem,” Alec began.
“Yes, you do,” Gadara drawled. “Where is Abel?”
Eve’s brows rose.
“He doesn’t know anything.”
“Exactly.” The archangel leaned back in his chair and ran a rough hand through his coarse gray hair. “He is her handler, Cain. He needs to be kept in the loop.”
“If that’s his job,” Alec retorted, “he shouldn’t need help doing it.”
“The two of you are going to get her killed.”