Demon Chained (Shadowfae Chronicles) (22 page)

The door springs open. Cool air puffs, the thick coppery taste of blood and wine, flooding my nose with the horrid stink of vampire and DiLuca. A laugh boils up in my lungs, and I swallow it before I can give us away. I've missed this, in all that obsession with crafting Joey a painful execution. Maybe once he's dead, I'll get back to it, do a few contracts, make a bit of cash, take my girl out somewhere nice.

Once he's dead.

I've never thought those words before.

Never imagined a future. Not until today, Gavain, Jewel, this forsaken mess. Why is it we always want any damn thing we're told we can't have?

Inside we tiptoe, her first, then me. A dark chandelier tinkles above our heads in the breeze. Shadowy furniture looms in the darkness, exuding the faint taint of wood polish, and the soft brush of my footsteps suggests carpet.

I strain my ears out of habit, even though my hearing's a waste of space these days. You'd think being reanimated would grant you super powers or something, just to make up for the bullshit. No such luck. But I've always had a nose for thieving trouble, and I don't sense any traps here.

Ahead of me, Jewel slinks forward, a grungy black shadow among shadows. She's moving pretty well in my body, considering. To the right, a corridor extends through a tall plaster archway, and our feet click softly on floorboards now.

Bitter fairy dust tingles the tip of my tongue, and my nerves sting in warning.

Swiftly I strain my eyes along the dark hallway for sniggering fae spies, but I can't see anyone. I slide my fingers into my pocket, and the smooth glass surface of the anti-rap canister soothes me. Rapture suppressant is for thrall-sluts like my good buddy Rajah, but it'll dazzle fairies too. Some of them. Sometimes. Who the hell knows with fae? If Gavain was here, I'd give him shit about it.

But if Gavain was here—if I hadn't scared him away with my chicken-shit attitude—I wouldn't be in this mess. So I wouldn't be here in the first place to give him shit. The mind boggles.

The corridor opens into a wide room, where light pierces the windows from a string of electric bulbs in the garden. Shining reflections gloat over a polished mahogany dining table that's bigger than my lounge room, its shadow drawn sharply on the floor. I glance down—yep, I'm casting no shadow—and grin my invisible grin. Brilliant. I could get used to this.

Opposite the window, a carpeted marble staircase climbs to the first floor, the landing lost in darkness. I close my eyes and strain to listen past the wet pulse in my ears. Damned if I can hear anything. But Jewel said it was an upstairs window she flew in, and it's all we've got to go on. Soon enough, they'll catch us anyway.

We start climbing, the carpeted steps soft yet hard under my feet. I slide my hand along the polished banister, just because I can, and my invisible palm smears a shiny trail a few inches behind it, moisture beading on the white marble.

I lift my hand away. Guess that question's answered. Don't bleed.

Beside me, Jewel fumbles for my other hand, and squeezes it tight. It feels strange, strong and bulky like a man's hand but somehow still
her
. Her sweaty fingers tremble in mine, and her breath's short and shallow. Her gaze darts upwards into the dark, only to flicker away as she bites her bleeding lip.

My body tightens, and a few dead muscle fibers pop sickly in my thighs. I can't smell her fear like I'd taste my own, blood and bile and that nasty gritty smear in my mouth. But I wish I could. I wish I could swallow the fear for her, that mess of viscera and nerves that paralyses your mind and threads sickness through your guts like a cold dead snake and makes you want to take a piss. This feral demon queen's really burst my beautiful girl's bubble, and my nerves itch at me to race up the stairs and rip the scheming bitch's heart out.

Our fingers entwine, and we walk up the stairs, each step a step closer to our loot. A twitch further from hell. A couple of seconds fewer until she finds out she never should have trusted me, until I lose her forever, and part of me wants to yell at her to run, to get away from me.

The landing's dark, and we turn by feel. Above, on the next landing, a single downlight shines. It shows a polished interior hallway running along the length of the house, white plastered walls, picture rails, the shadow of a door. Silence rings, heavy and wet, pregnant. They should have caught us by now.

The backs of my hands prickle like I smacked them into a cactus. Veins tighten in my chest, and my nerves jump, urging my limbs to flee. Shit. Call it instinct or thief's luck or dead man's intuition. Something's wrong here.

Sweat crawls in sticky rivers on my face, but I don't dare wipe it off in case I drip. We creep along the corridor, past a hall table displaying a statuette of a shimmering fairy in a flowing crystal dress, her emeraldine wings swept back in delight or shock. Her face is taut, her sapphire eyes wide.

If I ever craved my senses back, I crave them now. It's as if I'm deaf, blind, helpless like a newborn. Stinging grit crusts my eyes, but I don't dare blink.

I let go of Jewel's hand to creep ahead of her, because it's all I can do. I can't grab her and spirit her to safety. I can't defend her from whatever's lurking here. I can't even yell at her to disappear, not if I want out of here alive.

At this end, a second downlight illuminates the crumbling ash that coats the skirting board, and the dark mahogany panels of a door. That vampire-den stink is stronger now, blood and salt and sour agony. My throat convulses. I thought I smelled bad. It must be strong, if it can choke even me. There's another stink too, dry and scaly like dead snakeskin, and warning slashes a poisoned switchblade deep into my heart.

But before I can speak or jump or drag her away from the door, the lights blink out.

***

Chapter Twenty-Two

Darkness dropped like a wet blanket.

I blinked furiously, and nothing happened. Just black.

My pulse scrambled to flee. A moment ago, I was ashamed of my fear, with Tam so silent and careful beside me, just the familiar smell of his vanished body enough to give me strength. I felt strange in his image, powerful yet vulnerable, aching and fragile yet springing alive.

Now, I had reason to be afraid, and it didn't make me feel better.

Hinges creaked. Air puffed on my cheeks, the door opening outwards. I recoiled, clumsy in this body I've borrowed, his heavy limbs reacting awkwardly, but too late. Huge, crusty hands dug into my shoulders, yanking me forwards until Tam's hand ripped from mine. I wanted to call out to him, plead with him not to leave me behind, but my throat shriveled mute.

I stumbled, dragged into some hot black room that stank of blood and leather, and behind me, the door slammed shut.

My heart galloped, and I gulped humid air. Everything's okay, Jewel. We were meant to get caught. Stick to the plan.

Did Tam make it in? No idea. God, I hoped so. The idea of being alone in here shoved icy splinters into the gaps in my spine. Even though he was meant to be outside for this to work. I get the lamp, he says my name, I come to him, we run. If he's locked in this room with me . . .

A fist rammed into my guts. I doubled over, acid spewing into my mouth. My hair—Tam's hair—spilled over my face, a damp weighty mass. My knees buckled onto a hard floor, and I choked, burning.

Harsh laughter clanged like broken bells, and the lights flashed on.

Tears blinded me bright. My limbs watered, and I could barely raise a hand to wipe my eyes. I so wanted to smoke out of here. Damn it. I might look like him, but I was still me inside, weak and afraid.

I dragged my head up, and the glare subsided. A pair of fat leather-smelling feet in boots. Polished floor, scarlet woven rug, a green velvet sofa, creamy cushions and tassels. Manicured bare feet, slim brown legs, a shift dress the color of dark chocolate, a spill of tangled violet hair.

A lump strangled my throat. The purple lady. The demoness with lungs of steel. Delilah.

I sucked in a shallow breath, fighting to quiet my shrieking nerves. If they tumbled to our ruse, I'd be cigarette smoke in her lungs. So be Tam, Jewel. Give her attitude. Be mouthy and cocksure and really annoying.

Delilah smirked at me, stretching her long body luxuriantly on the cushions. Beside her, shining on a table beneath the glittering chandelier, sat my lamp.

My heart simmered over, and my eyes ached with grateful tears. My lamp. Gleaming and perfect like always, not a scrap of tarnish. So close. So far away, it might as well have been in space.

"I'm finished. You can go." Delilah nodded at a crusty-horned troll who wore a dark suit and a curly wire earphone, the owner of the booted feet and no doubt the charming gentleman who'd elbowed me in the guts.

The troll dipped his green chin, blackened tusks shining, and lumbered off. He was just doing his job. If I ever saw him again, I'd claw his beady eyeballs out.

Delilah giggled. "Tam, you noisy little weasel. Thought you were meant to be a decent thief."

Yes. She hadn't noticed I wasn't me. Either that, or she was just screwing with me.

Hair stuck to my face, and I dragged it aside, sweat staining my fingers. What would Tam say? "Thought this was meant to be Joey's house. If I'd known you were here, I'd have brought bug spray."

Her smile didn't waver. "Handsome corpse, aren't you, even considering the mess you're making on my floor. I can see why Kane keeps you around. So sad you've chosen the wrong boss." Her gaze glinted, lascivious, and she licked her plump brown lips with a wet tongue. "We can still remedy that."

"Lady, I wouldn't work for you if you were the ugliest, stankest, purplest whore in hell. Oh, wait. Guess that's a no, then." I had to raise a smile at that one. Being Tam was liberating.

She scowled, and it scorched the clammy air. Bumps lifted on my arms, and I shivered. Demon moods were dangerous. God help me if this didn't work. "Look, it's nice flirting with you and all, but can we get on with it? I've got something you want. Come take it."

Delilah pouted. "It can come to that, if you like. Blood and piss and all that godawful screaming. Frankly, I'm too lazy. Much more civilized for you to just give me your slutty smoke bitch and piss off."

I shrugged, as loose and Tam-like as I could while I was still on my knees. "You've convinced me. I'll need the lamp. Hand it over."

"I don't think so."

"The magic won't work unless I'm holding the lamp, genius. Hand it over."

Her eyes narrowed, and she snapped forward to the couch's edge like a striking snake, verdant ichor shining on growing teeth. "I'm not a fucking idiot, Tam. Just say the damn words."

Triumph lit a fire in my belly, and I grinned, a little crazy. This would be a good joke, if it wasn't so bloody terrifying. I folded Tam's bulging arms. "Fine. Here I go. See if I'm bullshitting you. Djinni, get in the lamp."

A second of silence. My heart twanged hard against my ribcage.

Gleefully, Delilah snatched up my lamp with an elongating brown arm, and pulled the lid off greedily. "Come out, you smoky whore."

We waited. Eventually, her brow creased, and she hissed in disgust and jammed the lid back on.

"Told you so." Rubbery knots yanked my guts tight. I fought to stare her in the eyes. Can't back down now.

She gnashed needle teeth, her purple hair flying. "Okay, smart-ass. No tricks. Do it properly this time." And she twisted her fingers around the handle and held the lamp out to me.

I wanted to reach for it. But images flashed through my mind, dizzying. Me and Tam, me and Luna, me and Javier and anyone who'd ever owned me. Besotted glances, delirious kisses, passionate nights spent drunk on the magic. That fierceglitter ecstasy of belonging.

All that was over. Gone forever. Once this was done, I'd never feel that glorious compulsion again.

For an excruciating instant, my body froze.

And the doors crashed open behind me, and a new, reptilian voice scraped the silence like glass on a blackboard. "Don't do that, Delilah."

***

Poor Jewel gasps, bereft, as Delilah snatches the lamp back and tucks it under her arm. "What the fuck?"

Hot needles of rage thrust under my invisible skin, and I have to bite my tongue hard enough to bleed so I won't give us both away. I was supposed to wait outside when the doors closed. But I couldn't let her go in there alone.

Tam, you stupid, gallant motherfucker.

Joey DiLuca stalks in, hauling a lithe, struggling figure by its skinny wrists. He flings the fairy to the floor, and dips his black fedora coolly to his demon princess. "Look what the snake dragged in."

Oh, hell.

Gavain curls over on the polished wood and spews, a greasy black mess of booze and filthy fairy pick-me-up. Charcoal bruises shadow his cheek, and one beautiful eye's swollen, the lid split open and bleeding. His wrists are wired together in front of him, the sharp metal cutting bloody welts into his choc-berry skin.

Part of me swells with ugly satisfaction, because Gavain fucking deserves it for what he's done to me and it saves me the trouble of blacking his eye myself. But the rest of me screams, and wrath pours like boiling syrup over my heart.