“But not me,” I said aloud.
Chance and Greydusk glanced at me, but neither asked what I meant. They both seemed to realize I was talking to the bitch in my head. Chance’s mouth tightened, but the demon acted as if it was natural to converse with long-dead demon queens. Only in Sheol.
Join with me, Binder. Your companions will die if you do not.
“I can protect them,” I protested.
Chance touched my hand lightly, drawing me out of the argument of which he could hear only my half. I’d be lucky as hell if we lasted another day at the rate I was going.
“So the Hazo traded the Dohan for Shannon.” Chance reminded me where we’d been before I wandered off mentally.
The Imaron inclined his head. “Or so my informant led me to believe.”
“Could it be a trap, a play from Caim to draw me out?”
Greydusk shrugged. “Possible but unlikely. The Hazo are not known to be strategists. They prefer to resolve their grievances in direct confrontation.”
I thought about that. “Which means getting his hands on Shannon and putting word on the street is how Caim would proceed if he wants a rematch with me.”
Greydusk nodded. “Exactly.”
“Do we have to worry about him tracking us?” I asked.
The Hazo Knight had tasted my blood back in Peru. I wasn’t sure what that meant in relation to demon magick. For all I knew, he might be able to use that memory of my taste to dispatch a goon squad to our location.
“Does he have samples of your hair, blood, or…other bodily effluvia?”
I shook my head. “Not that I know of. Unless blood, once tasted, stays in the demonic digestive system?”
“Er, no. It would be quite difficult for him to home in on your location. Xibalba teems with magick, which will retard efforts to find you.”
That was good news. The mob who appeared at his house ran us down on regular street gossip. If we laid low and kept moving, they couldn’t track us.
“And Shannon,” Chance said grimly.
“That’s why I didn’t suggest it,” Greydusk said, in agreement. “While the Binder has considerable power, brute force cannot winnow out a minute trace from the swirling morass of magickal energy that makes up the Vortex.”
“You mentioned that in passing before. I saw it…but what the hell is it?” I propped my chin on the table and drank…whatever he’d ordered. It tasted like lemonade with a bit of a kick.
Greydusk put on his lecturing face. “Every demon has some ability to work magick. His position in the caste determines how powerful he is. The amount of magick done inside the city limits contributes to the protective field that prevents monsters from attacking the walls. It also keeps the outcast Xaraz from attempting to return, once they’ve been exiled.”
“It’s like a force field?”
“Rather.”
“How does it work?” Chance asked.
“For every spell cast in Xibalba, the Vortex steals a small portion of the energy to sustain itself. Not enough to affect the outcome of the casting.”
“And split among so many demons, nobody notices the drain,” I guessed.
Chance said, “So it’s kind of like a toll.”
“Near enough. But what protects us also makes it all but impossible to successfully use scrying or seeking spells within the city limits.”
“But my luck still works,” Chance murmured. “Sort of.”
Greydusk pondered for a moment, likely remembering how we’d tracked Shannon. “I’ll wager you get some interference from the Vortex, but since what you do isn’t magick per se, there’s no cost.”
“We need a plan,” I said then.
“Agreed. Caim will be fortified and ready for you.” Greydusk drummed long fingers on the table, thinking.
“A frontal assault against the warrior caste sounds like suicide,” Chance muttered.
“Perhaps we can deal with the Dohan first,” the demon suggested. “And turn them against their allies.”
Sitting forward, I rested my elbows on the table. “Tell me more.”
Hungry Like the Wolf
“The Dohan prize one thing above all else.” When Greydusk paused significantly, I knew I wasn’t going to like where the conversation went. “They rarely get to experience it, however. The number who are permitted to respond to blood rituals are few. It’s only the honored, the chosen.”
Chance tensed. “What are you suggesting?”
“A simple commodity exchange.”
“That’s our blood you’re talking about,” I snapped.
The demon shook its head. “Not yours, Binder. His.”
“Why not mine?”
The Imaron sighed as if I were dense. “Blood rituals comprise the most powerful spells in Sheol. You can’t risk that the Dohan would use yours to enslave you, rather than drink it. All the castes want you to align with them, elevate theirs above the others. Ninlil would sometimes pick a favorite and that caste had dominion. She did it because she was mercurial and cruel and it amused her to see them clamor for her favor.”
Those were good days, the demon queen whispered wistfully in my head.
“Which means you want Chance to feed them. No.”
“What else do you have to offer as payment?” Greydusk asked coolly. “Thus far, I have spent my own money on this endeavor with no guarantee of recompense.”
Before I could stop her, the queen snapped, “You are honored to serve me, Imaron. You are fortunate I do not remove your head for such impertinence.”
“Ah. I am reminded, now, why I serve.”
“I’ll do it,” Chance said.
I touched him on the thigh. “Not happening. Nobody’s bleeding for me. If I give my blood, they’ll drink it in my presence. I’m not letting them store it for later use. And if they try to double-cross me, I’ll set the queen on them.”
She growled in anticipation, pressing against her bonds, and this time it was all I could do to contain her. The mere promise of freedom and my body for her use? Her excitement pounded in my head like tribal drums.
“Are you sure you wish to pursue this path, Binder?”
“It’s the only currency I have.”
“The Dohan may claim to own your especial favor later,” Greydusk warned, “if you choose to feed them from your own veins.”
“They can claim whatever they wish. Let them try to enforce it.” I didn’t realize it until the icy words left my lips, but the dark lady was whispering them along with me in my head.
Now I wasn’t sure where the sentiment had come from, where I ended and she began. Oh, Shannon. What have I done?
I finished my drink. Afterward I remembered Greydusk telling me that food and drink consumed here would strengthen her hold on me. But we hadn’t packed much from the human world, so I hoped my self-control was sufficient for the time it would take to get the information we required from the Dohan, maneuver on what they told us about the Hazo plans and their stronghold, and then execute our final move by liberating Shannon from the warrior caste. Oh, and then there would be Sybella and the Luren to deal with, and then I needed to devise an exit strategy.
No problem.
Okay, maybe a few.
The Imaron blew out the candle and led the way out of Club Hell. He wove a neat path through the writhing bodies. Butch flapped in our wake; the pseudo-quasit flew like a drunken bat and nearly slammed into the top of a demon’s head several times, but he appeared to be having fun for the first time since our arrival. That counted for something, so I didn’t yell at him to get down. Of course, if the spell wore off in midflight, I’d have a very sad dog on my hands.
On the street, the night had gotten colder as the moon rose, as if it streamed icy breath down toward us. I shivered and Chance drew me against his side. He laid a gentle kiss against my hair.
“Why wouldn’t you let me help you?”
I knew what he meant. And it was complicated. I mean, I’d let Kel give his blood to the witch in Catemaco. But it felt different with Chance. I could accept it from Kel because it was his job. He’d been assigned to protect me, and he’d chosen a compact with the witch as part of his orders. I also thought Kel could protect himself from harmful spells. So maybe that was it. Chance seemed more vulnerable, even less at home in this f**ked-up world than I was. I had to look out for him.
Greydusk pulled a little ahead of us as he walked, scouting, I suspected. If there was trouble, he would loop back and let us know. In the meantime, it permitted us to talk on the way to meet the Dohan. I wondered what they’d make of my eyes.
“I don’t want you hurt because of me,” I answered at last. “You know how you said it kills you to see me taking crazy risks? I feel the same way about you.”
“You do?” Some of the tight, injured pride faded from his face.
“Yeah. God, Chance, you were the first guy I ever loved. You’ll probably be the last.”
“I want to be,” he whispered.
A dark feeling came over me then. Like I could wrap him up in my arms, but it wouldn’t be forever. No matter how much I wanted it, or how much I believed in his feelings. He was one man I couldn’t keep.
Somehow, I pushed past the foreboding and blamed it on the demon queen f**king with me. I found the strength to tease. “You want it all with me, huh? House. Kids. The whole nine?”
Honestly, I expected him to panic. Instead, he stepped closer and in instinctive response I pressed into his chest. He wrapped his arms around me. Demons surged around us, muttering about uncontrollable Luren urges, but half of their ire contained an edge of envy. At least that many wished they were in Chance’s arms instead of me, even here, where beauty came in forms so powerful that it doubled as a weapon.
He brushed my lips gently with his and said, “Yes.” Another kiss. “Yes.” Yet one more, this the deepest and longest of all. “And again, yes.”
“Did you just propose?”