Smoke and Ashes (36 page)

“You sure?”

Sex to save the world. The perfect excuse.

“Yeah. This is wizard work now, so unless Harry Potter and Gandalf drop by to help out, I'm on my own for this next part.”

“Be careful, then.”

“You, too.”

“So I'll see you Monday unless the world ends or something.”

“Yeah, or something.”

“You'll call me if I can help?”

“Sure.”

“Tony.”

“I promise.”

“You're lying.”

“I'm not.” If anything came up he thought an actor in the highest-rated vampire detective show on syndicated television could handle, he'd call Lee first.

“Well, thanks for letting me help tonight…”

Even if it wasn't my choice.

“…even if it wasn't your choice.”

Okay. That was a little scary. “No problem.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

He listened to Lee breathing for a moment, enjoying the sound.

“I uh, think my battery's dying. I've got to go.”

“Right.” And thank God for dying batteries, Tony thought, hanging up. So much more believable than “there's someone at the door” or “my appendix just ruptured.” He looked up to see Leah watching him, wearing a frankly speculative expression. “Life was a lot easier when I thought he was completely straight,” he sighed, tossing plausible deniability into the toilet.

“If there's one thing I've learned in thirty-five hundred years,” Leah told him as they crossed the office, “it's that almost no one is completely anything. We're in the minority.”

“That doesn't change the fact that life was easier when I thought he was completely straight.”

“Can't handle the thought of reality intruding on your fantasy life?”

“Something like that.”

“Listen, if Harry Potter and Gandalf do drop by, we're going to need a bigger bed.”

Tony ignored her. The moment the words had left his mouth, he figured that comment was going to come back and bite him on the ass and, all things considered, that was barely a nibble. “There's at least one dead out by Simon Fraser,” he told Henry as they exited into the outer office. “And Amy says there's a shitload of injuries in a pileup on Boundary by the stadium.”

“We got lucky.” Henry dumped a dustpan of broken glass into the garbage and straightened. “The residual power of the gate is keeping the death toll down by drawing them directly here where they can be immediately dealt with, and your forcing both weak points to blow open tonight made sure the explosions occurred when there was almost no one at either site. Things could have been a lot worse.”

“You had to feed off Kevin Groves.”

“I've fed off worse.”

“He's a tabloid reporter,” Tony muttered as he picked up Rachel's phone to call the security company, absolutely not thinking of what else Henry did when he fed. “If there's worse, I don't want to know.”

 

Tony put down his toothbrush and stared into the mirror in Leah's guest bathroom. Quick shower to get the higher bits the scrubbing bubbles missed. Debris from the recent half dozen soft tacos—gone. Was there anything else he should do to prepare?

“Tony! Sunrise is at 6:52—pick up the pace.”

Apparently not.

Leah and Henry were in the bed when he got to the bedroom, carefully not touching, their respective powers dialed way back.

“Making sure there's no premature communication?” he asked, turning to stroke glyphs into the doorjamb with one toothpaste-covered finger.

“Practicing safe context,” Leah corrected. “What are you doing?”

“Warding the room.”

“With toothpaste?”

“You didn't have any cough syrup.” With any luck, cavity protection plus whitening and mouthwash would work as well. “This may be dangerous.”

“This? Using a vampire as a conduit to contact a Demonlord? Can't imagine why you'd think so, especially considering that the last time it almost happened you stopped it with your throat.” She folded her arms under the swell of her breasts. “Tell me again why I'm going along with this?”

“Because you haven't said no to sex in thirty-five hundred years.”

One dimple flickered. “Well, it's not a good reason, but it's a reason.”

“And you don't want to die.”

“That's a good reason.”

Wiping the remains of the toothpaste on the towel wrapped around his waist, he set the tube down on the edge of the dresser and approached the bed. “Henry…”

A pale hand rose to cut him off. “If you hadn't convinced me, I wouldn't be here.”

“Sure.” He'd been hoping for some kind of reassurance that this was the right thing to do. That attempting to contact Ryne Cyratane was the right decision. It seemed like a naked vampire was as much reassurance as he was going to get.

Tony half expected commentary as he dropped the towel, but either Henry's presence or what they were about to attempt—metaphysically—kept Leah silent. He slipped into the bed on Henry's side as Henry shuffled over and let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. “Okay. Henry has to be in contact with both Leah and me when this goes down, so I think we need to…”

“Relax.”

“What?”

Leah rolled onto her side and up on one elbow. “You need to relax,” she said, sliding her upper hand along Henry's chest. “You're not suddenly directing an X-rated episode of
Darkest Night
, so let's just forget about hitting our marks, shall we? We're taking part in an ancient sacrament. With a twist.” She frowned. “And a small chance of death and dismemberment. You just lie back,” she continued before he could respond, “and think about whatever you have to. Leave this up to me; I used to do it professionally.”

Her superior tone brought him up to mirror her position. “You're not the only one with a past.”

“In this bed? I wouldn't assume I was.”

She still sounded patronizing. “Just remember, I know things you don't.”

“About what?”

Tony slid his hand under the sheets. Henry gasped. “About him.”

 

Henry had not initially gone along with the idea of contacting the Demonlord. Or rather, he'd agreed with the idea but not the method suggested. Sex with Leah, given what they were, could never be anything but a power struggle, and even the possibility of sex had resulted in a loss of control he didn't want to remember. Couldn't help but remember given that his Hunger still marked Tony's throat.

“That won't happen this time because you've just fought a demon and that has to have taken some kind of physical edge off and, besides, I'll be plugged in from the beginning. When the power starts to rise—metaphysically speaking—I'll grab it and ride it to Ryne Cyratane.”

“It's a dumb idea,”
Leah had put in, adding,
“but it might work.”

Tony ignored her, concentrating on Henry.
“There won't be a risk of you biting Leah and pissing her Demonlord off—wham bam feedback blows you into little pieces—because I'll be there for any tooth action, and because you've been topped up recently, there's no chance of you getting carried away.”

Henry had stared at the younger man for a long moment, unable to look away from the visible part of the damage he'd already done.
“You'd trust me that much?”

“Jesus, Henry, what kind of a question is that? I've trusted you with my life from the moment we met. I've always known what you are.”

That, in the end, was what had brought Henry to this place, to this bed.

He had intended to take a more active role, but perhaps between a wizard and an immortal Demongate it was safest to lie back and be used. To not be drawn into competition. He breathed in the warm, rich scent of their arousal mixed with his own and let the Hunger rise just enough to let them know they used him at his pleasure, that he had power of his own.

 

Tony knew how to keep himself separate from what his body was involved in—he couldn't have survived the streets if he hadn't—but separate wouldn't get Ryne Cyratane's attention. He had to be as much a part of what was going on as Leah and Henry. This was not, as it turned out, particularly difficult. Familiar skin, familiar hands, familiar need got him over the small hurdle of girly bits doing their thing off to one side and in a very short time, he was fighting to remember that he couldn't be drawn into the maelstrom—it had to be drawn into him.

Then Leah cried out.

Henry's teeth closed through a fold of his skin.

As he arced up off the bed, he could feel a fourth presence, and, opening himself up to the surging currents of power, he raced to meet it.

It was a lot like absorbing the fire he'd set in Leah's curtains.

Except this fire burned.

His heart pounded, he couldn't catch his breath, and bits of his life were passing before his eyes. No. Wait. That wasn't his life. He wasn't double-jointed. And then he was back in the white and two very large, hot hands were wrapped around his biceps and lifting him into the air.

Someone was talking. Deep rumbling. Shades of Barry White.

Tony struggled to focus and finally managed to hear words.

“What place is this, Wizard?”

Good question. It took him a moment to figure out how his mouth worked, but he finally managed to form the words, “Neutral ground.”

It was a guess, but it seemed to be enough of an answer since the hands released him and he found himself sprawling at the feet of Ryne Cyratane.

The view from down there was pretty damned amazing.

“You risked much to speak with me, Wizard.”

“Did I?” That was news. Did he want to know what he'd risked? No, he decided, getting carefully to his feet. “You wanted to talk to me, big guy. I made it happen. Say what you have to so I can go put on some pants.”

The Demonlord's lip curled, exposing long ivory-colored teeth. Recognizing one of Henry's expressions, Tony realized Ryne Cyratane had just hung out a sign saying
Want to be eaten? Ask me how.
“You speak bravado out of fear.”

“Duh.” Had he come into this cold, without all those years of Henry behind him, he'd be a gibbering wreck.

“You desire me.”

That was too obvious to require a response. Tony had no idea where the energy was coming from, considering the rocket ride he'd taken to get here as well as the mentioned and admitted fear.

“You have been protecting my handmaiden from the attacks of an Arjh Lord.”

“No, she's been attacked by…Hang on.” He could feel his brain begin to sluggishly work. “What's an Arjh Lord?”

“I am an Arjh Lord. Sye Mckaseeh is another.” The first statement was very nearly a roar. The second merely a comment.

“Right.” They'd hardly call themselves demons. And, apparently, the new one was a Scot. Which brought up another point. “Why are you speaking English?”

Massive arms crossed over a hairless chest. “I am speaking what you are hearing.”

“Sure. Okay.” That made as much sense as most things in his life these days and was, at least, useful. Absently scratching at his left palm, Tony backed up a few steps, hoping a little distance would help clear his head. “Look, why don't I tell you what I think is going down, and you can yay or nay the synopsis?”

Dark brows drew in. “I am unaware of your meaning.”

“Just listen.” He laid it all out. An Arjh Lord directing the Demonic Convergence to create specific weak spots he could use to push through his own minions, marking them so they could kill Leah, thus opening the gate and allowing the Arjh Lord to enter their world and try to take it over.

Minions needed explaining, and Tony downplayed just how easy that takeover would be. No point in giving the big guy ideas.

When he finished talking, Ryne Cyratane nodded. “It is as you say; Sye Mckaseeh is warping what you call the Convergence to her own place.”

“Sye Mckaseeh is a wo…is female?”

“Yes. And a mighty warrior among the Arjh Lords.”

“Great. A mighty warrior.” Tony cleared his throat. “Look, you wanted to talk to me, what did you want to say?”

“I wished to give you, as the wizard protecting my handmaiden, the information you already possess. Your people have grown wiser since last I walked your world.” He didn't sound like he approved.

“Probably not wiser, we're just more used to processing information. But if that's all you wanted, let's move on to what I want…need.” The Arjh Lord's expression suggested Tony's needs were so low on his list of priorities they were essentially nonexistent. Time to evoke vested self-interest. “I need your help, or your handmaiden is going to buy it—die, she'll die—and you'll lose all that energy she keeps sending you, not to mention any chance you might have of using the gate yourself sometime in the future. You know, in case she finally gets depressed enough to…” He drew a finger across his throat.