Eve of Chaos (24 page)

“It’s a long
story, and one you wouldn’t believe anyway.” She reached up and tightened her
loosened ponytail.

“Try me.” He
bumped shoulders with her. “The Lord keeps bringing you back my way. There’s a
reason for that.”

“Father. . .
Trust me. If the Lord is deliberately pushing me into your life, that’s not a
good thing. Not for either one of us.”

“We won’t know
until all is said and done, oh ye of little faith.”

“You don’t
understand me, Father. And I sure as hell don’t understand you. Don’t you read
that Bible you preach from? God isn’t perfect. He’s just like everyone else.
Have you read the Book of Job? First, God brags to Satan about how loyal Job
is. Then, when Satan bets him that Job will turn against him if they make him
miserable enough, God takes the bet.”

Riesgo’s gaze
was on Montevista as the Mark abandoned his position on the lower right infield
to head toward Sydney. “Do you have any idea how many times the Book of Job is
tossed out as an argument, Ms. Hollis?”

“Eve,” she
corrected.

“I expect you to
be more original, Eve.”

She smiled
without humor. “Have you ever considered that Job’s story might be a piece of a
larger whole? Maybe Job is a construct that represents the entirety of man.
Maybe his tale is a parable and not absolute truth. Maybe Satan and God are
still trying to win that bet.”

The priest
turned his head to look at her. “You’re attributing mortal qualities to God,
like the Greeks did with their gods. The One True God is above those
frailties.”

“Really? I don’t
get that from the Bible,” she muttëred. “What I get out of the Bible is a God
so high on himself that he has minions running the show while he lounges around
listening to cherubs sing his praises endlessly.”

“I can put up
with a lot, Eve.” There was an edge to Riesgo’s voice. “But disrespect and
blasphemy aren’t on the list.”

She blew out her
breath in a rush, suddenly feeling very weary. “I’m sorry, Father. I don’t mean
to belittle your beliefs. It’s just that I’m never going to see God the way you
do. It’s like we’re looking at different sides of the same coin. Please don’t
ask me to come around to your side.”

“That’s my job,”
he said gruffly, looking obliquely at her. “I bring God into the lives of
others.”

“God is in my
life, Father.” Eve looked him at him squarely, willing him to see the truth of
her words in her gaze. “We’re working out our issues in our own way. But, in
the meantime, that dude on my corner is seriously driving me insane.”

“What do you
suggest I do about that?”

“You can come
and vouch for me.”

“Vouch for you,”
Riesgo’s half-smile returned. “For all I know, he could be right about you.”

“Ouch.” Crossing
her arms, she straightened.

“Okay, how about
I take you to my office first? Have you been to Gadara Tower? It was voted
Anaheim’s most beautiful property a couple of years ago.”

He reached over
and patted her on the knee. It was a grandfatherly gesture, but his touch was
so hot it surprised her. The contact was brief, over as soon as it began, but the
heat lingered. “Give me directions to your place. I’ll run by there in the next
couple of days and talk to him.”

“Thank you,” She
returned his earlier bump to the shoulder before standing. “I owe you one.”

“Yes, you do.”
He rose in an economical, yet graceful movement. Power leashed with an iron
fist. “We’re having a potluck picnic at the church in three weeks. I expect you
to come. Bring your boyfriend and those two—” He looked toward the field and
frowned. “Where did they go?”

Eve’s gaze
followed his. Montevista and Sydney were nowhere to be seen. She engaged her
mark- enhanced vision, but delving into the darkness beyond the reach of the
powerful field lights was impossible without the nictitating lenses that
engaged only when she, too, stood in the dark. “I don’t know.”

She started down
the bleacher steps with growing apprehension. The moment her foot hit the dirt,
a flash of white caught the periphery of her vision. Too fast to be mortal.
Lightning-quick, Eve darted after it. It was faster than she was, feinting to
the left and right. Several seconds later, she found herself on the pitcher’s
mound again. She ran back to Riesgo. The priest was presently rubbing at his
eyes with his fists.

“I must be wiped
out’ he said. “My vision’s getting blurry. One second, it looked like you were
over there. Then the next, you were right here.”

Catching his
elbow, she tugged him toward home base. It was rarely good to be cornered, but
at least she’d have one less side—their rear—to worry about defending.

“What are you—”
He quieted, sensing her preoccupation. Without another word, he bent and picked
up a metal baseball bat. Sans the collar and dressed in black sweats, he looked
like someone you didn’t want to fuck with. . . if you were mortal.

Eve’s brows
rose, but she put her back to his and tried angling him to face the corner. He,
being the chivalrous type, tried to maneuver her the same way.

The flash of
white came again, but this time it stopped in front of her. An Infernal such as
she’d never seen, with white hair and eyes. He was wearing an ice-blue and
silver Halloween costume that included a doublet and bombastic hose.

Her connection
with Reed allowed her to recognize the demon inside the getup.

“Azazel,” she
greeted grimly.

“Hello,
Evangeline.”

Riesgo
positioned himself shoulder to shoulder with her. “Is this the guy that’s after
you?”

“One of them.”
Eve sent up a request for a flaming sword. She wasn’t too surprised when
nothing happened. She widened her stance and raised her fists. The demon laughed,
a sound made more maddening for its rich, deep tone.

This Infernal
was clearly confident about his skills.
“Stand easy, Evangeline.”
The
unknown voice rumbled through the air from no discernable source.

The ground shook
and a fissure opened. Blood rushed upward from the depths like a geyser before
settling into the shape of a man with massive, beautiful crimson wings.

Satan. Eve knew
who it was without any help.

“Holy Mary,
Mother of God,” Riesgo breathed. He made the sign of the cross with his free
hand.

“Mary can’t save
you, priest;’ Azazel said, with a malicious smile. “God won’t save you either.”

Fear blossomed
in Eve’s chest like a spreading stain. The Prince of Hell was impossibly
beautiful, far more so than even Sabrael. His skin shimmered as if coated with
gold dust. Shiny black hair fell halfway down his back, rippling and writhing
with a life of its own. The silky tresses moved sinuously, covetously;
caressing him as a lover would, framing a face that could not have been more
perfect. His irises flickered like flames, while his mouth curved in a smile
that was terrifying for its seductiveness. The urge to undress and spread her
legs for him was strong enough to tug Eve forward one step. She jerked herself
to a halt by clinging to Reed in her mind, like a snapping flag anchored to a
pole.

“Ah’ Satan
murmured, circling from a distance with a smooth alluring gait. Sex incarnate.
“I see why they want you. Looking at you makes a man hard and ready to fuck.”

Eve flipped him
the bird.

With a careless
wave of his hand, he snapped the digit, bending it backward until her knuckle
touched the back of her hand. She dropped to her knees, screaming.

Riesgo stepped
forward, but she caught him with her left hand around his ankle. As a mortal,
she would never have been able to stop him. As a Mark, she nearly toppled him.

“Don’t” she
ordered in a richly nuanced rumble.

He stilled
instantly, frozen.

Persuasion.
A gift given to Marks that she likened to the Jedi
mind trick. Why it would kick in—for the first
time—now,
when what she
really needed was a weapon, was a gripe she would add to her long list. . .
later. And while she was bitching, she’d mention the failure of her mark to
kick in and give her some ass-whupping mojo.

Where was Reed?
Alec?
Anyone?

She released the
priest and reached for her broken finger, groaning through gritted teeth as she
wrestled it back into place.

Azazel tsked.
“They teach less and less respect as the years pass, my liege.”

Satan came to her,
looking down at her with gorgeous, emotionless eyes. His clawed fingertips
lifted her chin and moved her head from side to side. His touch was cool,
almost tender. She was riveted as much by that tenderness as by horror. Deep
inside her, something trembled in paralyzing fear.

With proximity,
the full effect of the Devil’s allure was undeniable. He wore a three-piece
suit that reminded her of Reed, but the overlong hair and Dr. Martens were
Alec’s. Even his features and build resembled her lovers, as did his
scent—smoky, exotic, and deeply male. She wondered if he wore a guise to
disorient her, or if she and God just had the same idea of what constituted a
hot guy.

“Get away from
her;’ Riesgo growled.

Satan shot him a
bored but dangerous look.

Eve caught the
Devil’s wrists, wincing at the throb of her injured hand. It would heal with
time, but would hurt like hell in the interim. “It’s me you want. I’m the one
who ran over your dog. Let the priest go.”

The Devil’s
sleek head turned back to her. He looked amused. “But the priest is the means
by which I will force your hand.”

She quivered
inside. “No. You don’t need him. Deal with me.”

“You do not yet
know what I want,” he crooned, cupping her face in his hands. His touch was so
invasively cold it seeped into the very marrow of her bones, making her shiver
violently. “Perhaps I want to defile you, lovely Evangeline. Perhaps I want to
do things to you that will break your mind and spirit. Perhaps I want to watch
while others do those same things to you. Listen to the melody of your screams
until there is no fight left in you.”

She wished she
could laugh at his drama, but really, she feared pissing herself instead.

Where were
Montevista and Sydney? Were they battling Infernals somewhere? Were they dead?

“Please. L-let
him g-go,” she managed through chattering teeth. She might as well be dunked in
a frozen lake for all the warmth she felt.

Riesgo growled
and began to speak. “I command you, unclean spirit, whoever you are, along with
all your minions now attacking this servant of God, by the mysteries of the—”

“Shut him up,”
Satan snapped.

Azazel flew like
a bullet across the yardage that separated him from Riesgo. The priest was in
the middle of a retaliatory lunge at impact, the crashing of the two bodies
thudding violently. The ground opened as they fell, swallowing them whole. As
the chasm closed as if it had never existed, the earth shuddered like a child
who’d swallowed particularly nasty medicine.

“Oh my god,” Eve
breathed, so shocked and frozen that she barely felt the burning of her mark.
“What the fuck are you doing?”

Satan smiled,
his thumbs brushing across her trembling lips. “Such a lovely mouth. You really
should be working for me. I would appreciate your cynicism. I certainly
appreciate how readily you discount Jehovah’s lies.”

Somehow she
managed to wrench free, tumbling to her side and crawling with what strength
she could muster. He followed her with leisurely steps, his hands clasped
behind his back.

She stopped
after progressing only a few feet. “What d-do you w-want?”

“Poor
Evangeline’ he murmured, reaching for her. “You are chilled to the bone. Let me
warm you.”

The moment his
hand touched her skin, warmth coursed over her body like a hot summer breeze.
So startled was she by the change that it took a moment before the sudden
softness of the ground beneath her registered.

Satan
straightened. Eve’s head turned slowly.

It was now the
middle of the day, and they were far from the baseball field. Warm sand
cushioned her side and the sun blazed in the cloudless sky above her. It was a
desert of some sort, barren except for golden sand and large monolithic
outcroppings. The chill in her blood began to fade. She struggled to her feet,
ignoring the hand that the Devil held out to assist her.

Eve faced him
with shoulders back and chin lifted. “Some of your mannerisms are so like
hers,” he murmured, with a mysterious smile.

“So like whom?”

“Your namesake.”
His gorgeous blood-red feathers fluttered in the oven-hot breeze. “Otherwise
known as the ransom you will bring to me in return for the priest. And Raguel.”