That Old Black Magic (22 page)

She hesitated and slid her hand over her stomach.

Lucas noticed. “I can make you one solemn promise. Your child will be fine. I’ll personally guarantee it.”

That was . . . reassuring. A promise from Lucifer himself.

Eden’s mind swam, but she didn’t have that difficult a time with this question. Was she willing to give up her angel side—a side that had given her nothing her entire life but a bit of unreliable psychic insight thanks to an absentee father? Would she give that up in order to rescue the man she loved—the father of her unborn child?

“Yes,” she said. “I agree.”

“Say it again.”

“You can have my celestial energy. All of it.”

“One more time.”

“You can have it, Lucas. Yes.”

His warm smile widened. “Thank you.”

She crouched down, watching him warily, and put her hand on Andy’s furry back. The werewolf had gone very quiet, watching the two of them as though witnessing a tennis match.

“Now bring Darrak back,” she said firmly.

Lucas ran his index finger over the edge of her desk as if looking for dust. He probably wouldn’t be disappointed. “Well . . . that wasn’t exactly what you just agreed to.”

“What?”

“Remember, Eden, the wording is important. I don’t have the ability to snatch Darrak right out of the Void. Nor do I have any desire of going anywhere near that place. It’s very dangerous there, even for me. No, what I said was that I could offer you a chance to save him.”

Fury rose inside her. “You asshole. You tricked me.”

“Not a trick. It’s not my fault your head is not in the game.”

“A chance? That’s it?”

“Yes. I will grant you entrance to the Netherworld. Mortals, even if they’re witches or nephilim, or both, are still vulnerable there. Without my permission you would burn up the moment you entered my kingdom. But tonight I’ll let you in so you can seek your demon at the very edge of his ultimate doom.”

She swallowed hard. “You’re sending me to Hell.”

“You don’t have to go at all, if you don’t want to. However, I should warn you, our deal holds no matter what your decision is. I will, however, ensure your safety and your child’s safety . . . but Darrak, well, he’s the wild card in this scenario. No money-back guarantee.”

Her nausea came back in full force, but she tried to ignore it. “Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll go.”

“Just one more thing. You need a guide.” He smiled down at Andy. “Would you be willing to protect your lovely business partner tonight? She needs someone who cares about her. I don’t think I’d trust anyone else to help her in this quest.”

“Andy, wait . . .” Eden began.

But Andy barked.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Lucas held out his hand. Andy walked over toward him and Lucas grasped either side of his head. The next moment, dark light slid along Andy’s werewolf form and he whined.

Eden grabbed Lucas’s arm. “Stop it! You’re hurting him!”

Lucas shook his head. “He’s fine. Better than ever, in fact.”

Andy looked different now. His fur had quickly changed to become black, short, and wiry. He was at least fifty pounds heavier than he’d been before. And his eyes were now red, with slits for pupils more like those of a cat. He looked like a cross between an otherworldly black panther and a Rottweiler.

Eden gasped. “What did you do to him?”

“Consider it an upgrade.” Lucas stood up and brushed his hands off on the front of his pants. “He was a werewolf.  Now he’s a hellhound. They’re the best guides in the Netherworld.”

Eden stared with fear at the muscular black monster that bared its sharp teeth at her.

“
Christ on a cracker
!” a voice proclaimed in her head, but the hellhound’s lips didn’t move.
“I need a drink!”

Her mouth dropped open. “Andy, I can hear you. How . . . how can I hear you?”

“You can hear him because he’s the first and only werehellhound. Now, you best get going. He’ll return to his human form at dawn, and he won’t survive more than a couple seconds if you’re still in the Netherworld.” Lucas’s smile returned. “Again, you’re welcome.”

Eden hadn’t said thank you. She wasn’t prepared to say it yet, not with the heavy price tag associated with this literal deal with the devil.

Lucas walked toward the door and pushed it open.

“Wait!” Eden called after him. “How do I get there? Is there a gateway nearby?”

“You won’t need one. You already have the keys to my kingdom at your disposal. Darrak’s ultimate fate is in your hands now, and I suggest you don’t delay. I’ll be in touch soon to collect on our bargain. Good night, Eden.”

Before she could say another word, he left the office. She ran to the doorway and scanned the dark parking lot, but Lucas was nowhere to be seen.

Feeling completely stunned, Eden looked down at Andy the werehellhound.

“Don’t look at me,”
he said, or thought, or however he was able to communicate with her.
“I have no idea how to get there. Was that really Lucifer? He looked so . . . normal. Quite frankly, I’m really hoping this is all just a crazy dream.”

This was no dream.

“Keys to the kingdom,” she whispered, wracking her brain for the answer.

But then it came to her. Of course that was what Lucas had meant. What else?

She grabbed her coat and slid her hand into the pocket, pulling out the silver bracelet Lucas had given to her—the one he’d meant for her to put on Brenda that would have taken her to a job interview in Hell. She stared at the chain in stunned silence, feeling resolve fill her.

There was no time for regret or second thoughts. Now was the time for action.

She eyed Andy. “Are you ready?”

He cocked his head and stared up at her with those spooky red eyes.
“I expect to wake up in my warm bed any moment. But until that happens, let’s go get your boyfriend and hope for the best.”

Eden had agreed to go to Hell itself to rescue the demon she loved. Hoping for the best sounded a bit presumptuous. “Fine. Let’s do this.”

She grabbed hold of Andy and slipped the chain over her wrist.

SIXTEEN

“Last call, demon. You want another drink, or what?”

Darrak raised his head off the hard wooden bar where he’d dozed off for a moment and eyed the empty shot glass in front of him. “No, no more.”

Where was he?

He glanced to his left around the dim interior of the empty bar. Looked like something out of an eighties sitcom. There was a lot of wood paneling and vinyl. Definitely the Netherworld, though. He ran a hand through his hair to check himself. No horns. He was in human form. At the moment, anyway.

He didn’t remember how he’d gotten here. Usually when he went to bars they were in the human world, not here. Why bother? Drunk humans were way more fun to play with than drunk demons.

Strange.

He wondered how long he’d been out. He’d had one hell of a dream—a long epiclike dream full of adventure and danger and . . . huh. It was already slipping away.

He wished he could write it off as nothing, but two things troubled him deeply.

First, demons didn’t dream.

Second, demons didn’t sleep.

It didn’t take a genius to notice that something was strange about that.

Maybe it wasn’t sleep. Maybe he’d just zoned out for a while. Yeah, that had to be it.

Funny, though. It had felt different than zoning.

“You sure you don’t want one last drink?”

He looked to his right to see his friend Theo sitting there, which struck Darrak as odd—on top of everything else—but he wasn’t sure why. He and Theo always hung out like this when business didn’t have to come first.

“Why did you let me drink so much?”

“Because it’s fun.”

Darrak eyed him. “You know, it feels like I haven’t seen you for a while.”

“Me?” Theo pointed at himself. “You really have had too much to drink, haven’t you?”

Theo had started his existence at almost exactly the same time as Darrak, created from hellfire by a very industrious Lucifer. Both had been incubi for centuries before their promotions to archdemon.

They’d scorched a path of destruction and good times across the human world in their day. Very few knew how to party as hard and as well as an archdemon with power to spare and the good looks of an ex-incubus. There were very few who could resist the pair of them.

Theo was tall, broad shouldered, with long dark hair that he kept held back with a leather strap. His almond-shaped eyes gave him an exotic appearance, like a prince from a faraway land or, possibly, a surfing instructor from Hawaii. It worked for him. The ladies loved it.

If there was one demon in the entire Netherworld that Darrak considered family, it was Theo.

This sentiment, however, was not something that demons tended to share with each other. Emotion, anything that might make them seem soft or too humanlike, was strictly avoided. But Darrak had always thought his friendship with Theo was more helpful than harmful. It was good to have one other being who you could turn to if you were in trouble and needed help.

So strange, though. A feeling was churning through his gut—one he didn’t recognize.

“What’s wrong?” Theo asked.

“Don’t know.” Darrak placed a hand on his abdomen. “I feel like I’ve lost something.”

“Too many shots of vodka, that’s all.”

“Where are we, anyway?” Darrak glanced around again at the vacant bar, empty apart from the two of them and the bartender. “I don’t feel like I’ve ever been here before.”

“Yeah, this place? It’s the best. Not tonight though. Dull night. Another night would be better. Entertainment, women, it’s a nonstop party.”

“Sounds great. So why are we here tonight?” Darrak narrowed his eyes at a couple of male fairies that walked through the door and cut an unfriendly glare in his direction. They weren’t quite as lovely as they were in the human world, where they hid their true natures with glamours. Here in the Netherworld they were regular fairies—fearsome dark-skinned creatures with sharp teeth and pointed ears and eyes that could burn a hole straight through your soul. Literally.

Luckily, Darrak didn’t have to worry about that.

He remembered a glimpse of his dream.
Something about somebody’s soul.

Impossible. He didn’t dream.

Wow, he was seriously messed up. Time for a vacation, maybe. He’d been working hard for Lucifer for so long that he had forgotten to stop and smell the brimstone.

“Let’s go,” Theo said. “We have somewhere we need to be. May as well not put it off any longer.”

“Oh yeah? Sounds deliciously ominous.”

“You have no idea.”

He followed Theo to the exit and emerged onto the main street. It was dark outside, but it was always dark in the Netherworld.

“Can we phase?” Darrak asked, referring to the method demons used for easily transporting themselves from place to place.

“No, we’re walking today.” Theo smirked. “It’s not very far from here.”

Darrak frowned. “I feel like I’m forgetting something.”

“Yeah? Something important?”

“Seems that way. I don’t know.”

“Well, if it’s
that
important, it’ll come back to you. If it isn’t, then it won’t.”

Theo had a way of reducing most problems down to their base parts. “Good point.”

Darrak rubbed his temples. He didn’t feel the effects of whatever amount of booze he’d drunk tonight, but he still felt off. Kind of bruised and broken, as if he’d survived some sort of major stomping. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling. Darrak didn’t
always
win the fights he got into—just most of them. And usually those he beat didn’t walk away feeling bruised and broken. They were sent to the . . . the . . .

Somewhere. Where were they sent?

Something that started with a
V
. It was on the tip of his tongue . . .

“Shit,” he mumbled. “I’m seriously messed up.”

“Just relax,” Theo said. “It’ll be easier that way.”

“Easier? What will be easier?”

“Everything.”

“You know, I’m trying to remember the last time I saw you.”

“Don’t try too hard. You might break yourself.”

Darrak snorted, then sobered. “Wait, I think I remember something.”

Theo stopped walking and turned to look at Darrak. “What’s that?”

“I was . . . summoned. By a witch. She summoned me to the human world and made me give her an extra serving of power. Then she tried to destroy me.”

“You remember that?”

“Yeah . . . it’s fuzzy, though. Has Lucifer been messing with my head again?”

“It’s possible. He can do that.”

“Hate that guy.” Lucifer hated him, too. Even though the Prince of Hell had created Darrak out of nothing, given him life, so to speak, and power and strength—then upgraded him to archdemon—he knew Lucifer still resented him. Darrak liked to believe it was because Lucifer feared him. A little. Now and then.

Yeah, right. What a laugh. Lucifer could smite him with a single thought. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. A couple of seconds later Darrak would be a handful of hellfire again, only lacking the good looks and charming personality he had now.

Something moved up ahead, something dark and formless.

Darrak tensed. “What was that?”

“What?”

“That thing—it looked like a wraith.”

He would have preferred not to say it out loud. Wraiths were not the kind of creatures you wanted to come across in the Netherworld. They were energy suckers. If one latched onto you they could drain you dry in a very short amount of time.

Not fun.

“What the hell are they doing here?” Darrak mumbled, feeling more annoyed than worried. “Who sent them?”

Wraiths weren’t just arbitrary beings that wandered wherever they liked. They were creatures with a job to do—to target someone specifically and get rid of them. Seeing a wraith was not a sign one’s day would be pleasant.

“Don’t know.” Theo didn’t sound too concerned.

“Let’s head to the human world,” Darrak suggested.

“Nah, let’s not.”

“If you want to stay here and give them the chance to creep up behind you and give you a nice wet kiss, feel free. As for me, I’m out of here.” Darrak concentrated on phasing somewhere else—anywhere else. However, nothing happened.