Octavian's Undoing (Sons of Judgment) (58 page)

“It is not often Casters are attacked by a Forsaken. News such as this tends to travel and I have ears everywhere.”

“Do you know where he is then?” his mother asked.

“Better. I know who his Master is.”

For the first time since the incident, Octavian’s heart gave a thrill of elation. “Who is it?”

Jackamo continued to smile his cat-like smile. “For that information, I require something in return.”

“What?” Octavian half growled.

His father put his hand up, silencing his oldest. His level gaze remained fixed firmly on the man in the chair. “Of course you will be compensated for your time.”

Jackamo shook his head. “It is not compensation I seek. It is my life I am risking to share this knowledge with you and I believe that costs a bit more than spending a single evening with your gracious family.”

“What is it you’re asking, Mr. Bray?” his mother asked kindly.

“In exchange for the information you seek, I demand in return, the annihilation of my papers.”

Silence descended upon the room, broken only by the sharp cracks and sizzles of the wood in the fire.

It was his mother that regained her senses first. “Mr. Bray, to annihilate your papers will send you back to the Underworld, permanently. If you wish to return—”

Jackamo shook his head. “I do not wish to return. I wish to remain… here, in the mortal realm.”

“That’s impossible,” Gideon said. “The laws are clear. Demons can only visit for a single fortnight. Then they must return and reapply.”

Jackamo cocked his head ever so slightly to the side to observe Gideon with his yellow eyes. “But I do not wish to return.”

Octavian understood almost immediately. “He wants us to lose his papers.”

Jackamo beamed. “If that’s how you wish to see it.”

Octavian glowered at him, but said nothing.

Jackamo didn’t seem to require a response. “I tire of the endless process of application. I wish to remain earthbound. Mortals are such fascinating creatures. I would like to study them a bit further. A fortnight is simply not enough time.”

“We do not make the rules,” his mother said, still kindly. “To break them is punishable by death or exile into Hell—”

Jackamo’s gaze went to her. “You would not be breaking any rules. You simply misplace my papers and in return I give you the name and location of the man responsible for turning your son’s mate. A small price to pay, isn’t it?”

His mother turned to his father. “Liam?”

His father took her hand lightly in his and kissed the knuckles. “I will stand by whatever decision you make, darling.”

His mother’s eyes went to Octavian. She searched his face for a long time before turning back to Jackamo. “You will give us the name and location of the Master and I will rid of your contract. You have my word.”

Jackamo cut a grin into his face painted with triumph. “The Master you seek is Antonius Mortlock, but you will not find him here.” He picked up his teacup, took a sip. “He and his coven were exiled to the mountains of Siberia after that nasty Black Plague business back in the thirteen hundreds that lasted over four hundred years. The other covens don’t think very fondly of him for nearly exposing them all to the humans and putting a dint in the treaty they signed with the Summit.”

Octavian had heard stories of what had happened, but he’d never taken much interest in strigoi politics. So long as they kept out of his way and didn’t harm humans, he didn’t care what they did between themselves.

“I remember that,” his mother said. “Awful. So many lives lost, human and Caster alike.”

Jackamo nodded. “Nevertheless, if you wish to find him that is where he will be.”

“Mr. Bray.” His mother leaned in closer. “Would you happen to have heard why Antonius Mortlock would be after Riley in the first place? Why he would send Duncan to hunt for her?”

Jackamo looked genuinely surprised for a moment. “Well, I would think that is obvious.” When no one else seemed able to connect the dots, he set his teacup down and eyed them curiously, but with a tinge of amusement. “There is nothing in the demon world more abhorred than Casters, no offense,” he added quickly. “But there are more than a few who would like nothing more than to see you all beheaded, especially the Casters of the North who guard the gates to their freedom. Would one be foolish enough to come at one of you head on? I highly doubt it. But your mate… well, a human is a human no matter what title you give them and as a rule, are weak.”

“Okay, but the strigoi don’t follow our laws,” Magnus said. “We have no association with them.”

Jackamo splayed his long fingers, his shoulders moving in a subtle shrug. “Then I suppose that is something you will need to ask him when you find him.” But something in the gleam in his eyes warned Octavian that he knew far more than he was admitting to and that raised all the warning bells in his head.

“What are you?” Octavian demanded, ignoring his mother’s hiss of outrage. It was a high insult to ask a demon his origin, but he didn’t care. He didn’t trust the guy.

Jackamo leveled a hard gaze on him. “My kind do not freely supply our name,” he said evenly. “We were the first of Lilith’s children, the first to see the world unfold. We are older than even your kind.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Octavian rose. “What are you?”

“Octavian, that is enough!” his mother reprimanded.

Neither Jackamo nor Octavian paid her any attention. Sharp sparks flew between them as they stared the other down. “I suppose you would call me an
Efreet
.”

Octavian’s jaw clenched. “You’re a
Djinn
, a wish maker.”

Jackamo inclined his head. “I am one of the six, yes.”

“And what’s in this for you? Djinns never do anything for free.”

The demon waved a hand in the direction of his mother. “I have already gotten what I wanted. My freedom from the eternal flames.”

But there was something else, something just beneath that that didn’t sit right with Octavian. He could feel it rippling in the air between them.

“If I find that you’ve lied to us or sent us into an ambush—”

Cold hatred leapt into the demon’s feline eyes. “A Dijnn is honor bound to—”

“To twist an agreement to suit his own personal agenda,” Octavian finished. “Your kind is as bad as demons like Baron. You corrupt humans, twisting their wishes so you can devour their soul.”

Jackamo’s head cocked to the side. “But you don’t have a soul, Caster. There is nothing I can take from you.”

Octavian didn’t believe it. Every bone in his body jittered anxiously, awaiting an impending attack. God he hated working with demons. Nothing about it ever felt right. But what choice did he have? Riley needed for this guy to be right. Needed for Octavian to put his own personal feelings aside and do this for her.

“Where is Antonius Mortlock?” he asked.

“Deep in the
Belukha Mountains
. It is quite a journey if done by foot. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“You can’t go alone either,” his mother murmured. “You will be at the mercy of a group of strigoi who clearly have no respect for life or the law.”

“What do you propose, love?” His father turned to his wife.

His mother’s lips pinched into a line of indecision. “We have no choice. We must call the Guardians.”

Octavian stiffened. “Riley—”

His mother’s saddened eyes rested on him. “I know, but there is no other option. Walking in there will be suicide. Mortlock will not hear a word you say. He will kill you. We will explain to the Guardians that we are righting a wrong. They will understand.”

But Angels were not understanding. They were not merciful, despite contrary belief.

“Your mother is right,” his father chimed in. “Walking into a den of lions covered in blood, you’re asking to be eaten. We must return if we are to help Riley.”

“Octavian.” His mother drew his attention back to her. “Riley is no longer human. At this moment, she is nothing. Not covered by any law. But Duncan has broken the treaty by attacking a human and attacking us. Mortlock will have no choice but to submit him if he wishes to remain at peace. Summoning a Guardian to go with you will ensure that you return home and by bringing back Duncan’s blood, you will give Riley back an identity. She will become a strigoi and protected by the laws.”

He knew she was right. By law, it was what he should do. But trusting angels was worse than trusting demons. At least most demons came at you from in front. Angels stabbed you in the back.

“Call the Guardians.”

His mother nodded. “I will stress the urgency.”

As she rose and hurried from the room, Octavian turned to the rest of his family. “I’m going,” he said in case there was ever any doubt that he wouldn’t.

His father nodded. “I will join you and Magnus.”

Magnus didn’t argue. He gave a curt nod.

“We’ll leave the moment we have a method of transportation,” his father continued.

All eyes went to Magnus, who stiffened.

“What?”

“Don’t you have that friend who owns a plane?” Gideon reminded him.

Magnus’ eyebrows drew down into a deep scowl. “You mean the one that tried to kill me?”

“Well, we need you to kiss and make up with him,” his twin said, smacking him on the shoulder. “Get us a plan, little brother.”

Magnus shoved at him. “Only by five minutes and why can’t you ask your girlfriend. Doesn’t she have—?”

“Guys,” Octavian cut in sharply. “This is for Riley.”

Magnus glowered at Gideon before slumping down in his seat. “Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll ask, but don’t be surprised if he says no.”

“Don’t let him,” Octavian said. “We need this.”

Magnus grumbled something but remained quiet otherwise.

“May I offer you a word of caution before your journey?” Jackamo glanced up to fix Octavian with a penetrating stare. “If Antonius Mortlock is indeed responsible, it is not without reason and he will not offer you what you request without reparation. He will do whatever it takes to be free of his icy prison, even if it means sell his remaining soul to the devil himself.”

Thaddeus Quinn was a man of many words, most of which were swears and crude remarks. He stood just at Magnus’ shoulder with a belly as big as any heavily pregnant woman and a face made for a beating. He was one of those men that could walk into a room and piss someone off. It was an aura that surrounded him. Being a Chaos Demon probably had a lot to do with it. Chaos followed wherever he went and he loved his job.

“Magnus, you big sissy girl!” he roared the minute Magnus, Octavian and their father stepped onto the asphalt at the small private airport just outside of Port Moody, British Columbia. He ambled over to them and yanked Magnus into a fierce embrace, followed by several sharp smacks on the back.

Magnus grimaced. “I see you’ve been working out, Thaddeus.”

Thaddeus drew back and smacked him on the shoulders. “Too right. Gotta look sexy for the ladies. Something you would know nothing about. Lucky for your mom you’ve got brothers or she’d never get any grandbabies.”

Magnus frowned. “Is the plane ready?”

Thaddeus turned and waved a massive hand in the direction of a charter plane pointing in the direction of a long runway. “It will take us an hour, maybe two to get there in this baby. I wired her myself.”

For a normal human plane the trip would have taken hours, days even, but the beauty of flying Demon airlines was that they had the power to manipulate space and time, opening portals and wormholes that opened to all manners of locations. It was the reason Octavian had pushed Magnus to patch things up with Thaddeus. The man was ignorant and crass, but they didn’t have a whole lot of time to waste.

“Can we get going?” Octavian started walking even before Thaddeus could respond.