Demon Bound (21 page)

“Yes,” Michael said. His eyes were obsidian now, making it almost impossible to determine where he was looking, but Jake felt the weight of that dark gaze.

Not an oppressive weight, though, so he continued. “Was Zakril a traitor, then—or was he betrayed?”

“Betrayed,” Michael answered. “But it was done before he left Caelum.”

Well, here we go then, Jake thought. His gut was roiling, he was going to piss everyone off, but it needed to be asked. “By you?”

He felt the muffled surprise and anger around him, yet every Guardian still turned to Hugh as Michael responded.

“No.”

A wry smile touched Hugh's mouth. “That was truth. It has all been.”

The relief in the room wasn't just Jake's. The tension left his stomach.

“What happened, Michael?” Irena asked, and as she spoke, she bumped Jake with her hip.

It was—he prayed—a friendly bump. He looked across the skeleton at Alice, but couldn't read her expression. Thoughtful, maybe. Or concerned.

He'd have preferred ice and disapproval to knowing that she worried.

Michael lowered himself to his heels, lightly touched Zakril's fingers. “We were divided. There were those who wanted to depose Lucifer, and take over rule of Hell.”

“Hardly objectionable,” Alejandro said. When Jake trained with him, Alejandro usually spoke Spanish; now, Andalusia rolled lightly through his English. “I would rather see a Guardian on the throne than a demon.”

“Yes,” Michael agreed. “If it would not have meant denying humans their free will, and freeing the nephilim from Lucifer's control.” He looked up. “It is too long a story now, when there are nephilim to hunt. We will call everyone to a gathering in Caelum a week hence, and I will tell you all you need to know.”

All you need to know.
Not, Jake noted, everything they wanted to know. But Michael was already asking, “Alice, do you have the symbols? I will not be able to enter the site and see for myself.”

Lilith narrowed her eyes when Alice pulled in her sketchbook. “ ‘She waits below,' ” she read, then glanced at Michael. “She, who?”

“The one who betrayed him. But she does not wait. She is dead, by Zakril's hand.” He stood slowly, shaking his head. “This was the scribbling of someone who believed in the prophecy, but hoped they could prevent it from coming to pass.”

At the mention of the prophecy, Alice became absolutely still.

Jake watched her, considering the implications of it. What little they knew of the prophecy said that Belial's rise to power depended upon the destruction of the nephilim—who would be equally invested in seeing that the prophecy wasn't fulfilled. And although their goals were different, what interested the nephilim might also interest Teqon. “So this particular message—‘She waits below'—was for the nephilim?”

And if so, hopefully Michael would reveal at the gathering how these Guardians and nephilim had become allies.

Michael nodded. “I believe it must be. Let us see if we can find them, and retrieve the Scroll. Irena, Alejandro—choose your teams, and make certain you each have vampire blood available. We will go in three groups.”

One to each teleporting Guardian. Flippin' fantastic. And it wasn't a surprise when Alejandro gave Jake a nod, including him on his team, but Jake was almost knocked off his feet by the hearty clap Irena landed on his back.

“Now you are in all the way, yes?” She grinned at him, and then strode past Alejandro, giving the tall swordsman the same Death Stare she'd given the women at Cole's.

What the hell? He briefly met Alice's gaze again before she turned to speak with Hugh. Jake watched her sign a greeting, and their short embrace. They hadn't met, he realized, since Hugh had Fallen in the early 1990s and began living as a human again.

Jake began to look away, giving them privacy, until Hugh signed to her,
If I hadn't known it was you, I would have thought it was someone wearing your face.

Surprised, Jake glanced at Alice. Because Guardians could shape-shift, they learned to identify one another by mannerism as well as physical features. For Hugh to make such a statement suggested that, in less than twenty years, Alice's had completely changed.

I have been told it is not so noticeable when I move quickly,
Alice replied.
And if I make a conscious effort, I can still move as humans do.

When Hugh only looked at her, she lifted her chin and pursed her lips. “Everything that we touch, everything that touches us—it all leaves its mark,” she said, mimicking Hugh's voice, then smiled as he laughed.

I connect with them often,
she continued.
I am always pushing myself into them; I suppose it is only fair that they leave something in me. And I do not care that it appears odd—truly, I don't.

No. You wouldn't.
Hugh studied her for another moment.
And they no longer frighten you?

She swept her hand at the floor, indicating the bones.
I found that their usefulness and my gratitude eventually trumped my terror.

Jake did look away then, his jaw clenching, his chest tight. The Scrolls stated that a Guardian's Gift reflected some part of their human life. His was easy; Jake had spent most of his wanting to be anywhere but where he was.

But Alice had been saddled with spiders? And it was a leap—he knew it was one hell of a leap—but now he had that attic in his head again, that molding bed . . . and those cobwebs.

Somebody restrained there wouldn't have been able to move, no matter what was crawling on her.

“And I see that I will not have to ask if you are prepared, Jake. You look as if you might tear apart the nephilim with your teeth.” Alejandro's glove disappeared when he held out his hand. “I suggest a sword; leave the chewing to Irena.”

“Yeah,” Jake muttered, and took one last glance at Alice as she joined Michael's group.

And it was, he realized, getting much, much easier to follow her.

 

After six hours with no sign of the nephilim, Alice's hope—then frustration—had distilled into resignation. When dawn began brightening the sky, Michael sent out word that they were to return to their duties while he continued to search the area.

Though Alice had walked through the hypogeum again after they'd teleported to its location, looking for anything she'd missed the first time and making certain the nephilim hadn't returned, she broke formation and flew in that direction—and then was saved an hour's trip when Ethan and Selah appeared in the air beside her and they teleported to the site together.

Birdsong filled the olive grove; a light wind rustled the leaves. Jake was kneeling in the grass next to the open shaft that led to the hypogeum, muttering to himself. When Ethan cleared his throat, Jake stood and held his hand out to Alice, palm up.

“A little help?” he asked, and she saw the wolf spider hatchling clinging to his thumb. “I'm afraid I'll squish him if I push him off.”

“They are more resilient than that.” Alice held his hand still with her right, and aligned her left palm with his. A nudge of her Gift forced the hatchling to move—and revealed that there were no longer any spiders in the corridor beneath their feet. Startled, she looked at the ground. The shaft opening was still there. “Did it close up while we were away?”

“No.” Jake met her eyes. “I found them all, brought them out. Just in case.”

“I see.” She let go of his hand, walked to the nearest tree, and took a long time settling the hatchling at the base of the trunk. Behind her, Ethan and Selah told Jake about their group's search, and when Alice's heart was not pounding so hard, she returned and relayed the same about Michael's group.

“We struck out, too,” Jake said when she finished. “Not even a demon or vampire, let alone a nephil.”

“Well, we ain't going to be sensing them once they get into human form and start blocking.” Ethan's hat cast a shadow over his face, deepening his frown. “My feeling is, if there's no vampires around—not in all the area any of us searched, including the cities—that it's a sign the nephilim are staying in this region. Or have been visiting often, knowing where this site was going to be, and waiting for it to show.”

A line of worry etched between Selah's brows—and little wonder, Alice thought. They'd known large communities of vampires had been killed by the nephilim, but there'd been no indication that the smaller, more rural communities were in danger. But if the nephilim were quietly slaying those vampires as well, Lucas and the vampires in Ashland would be under the same threat as Seattle.

“The first vampire massacre was in Rome,” Alice said. This grove was a few hundred kilometers southeast. “And the next in Berlin.”

“Have you found any sites in Germany?” Selah asked.

Alice shook her head. “Nor in the western United States. But I find most by luck—traveling to the right region at the right time.”

“You won't be limited by the Gates or travel time now,” Jake pointed out. “We can pop around as many places you need to, hit them once a week. Or once a day.”

“That will be more convenient.” Noticing the subtle shift in Ethan's expression, in Selah's psychic scent, she added, “It must be nearing sundown now in Ashland and Seattle. If you wish to go, I will ask Jake to return with me to San Francisco. I'd like to finish with Zakril tonight. Michael has requested that we give the remains to him after we've gathered what we need for the tests, and I see no reason to delay.”

Ethan looked to Jake. “That work for you?”

“Yep. We might take a detour, but we'll get there.”

Ethan shook his head. “I'm meaning, does it work for you to give back the skeleton? You figure Michael's hiding anything—and if that skeleton disappears, maybe something important goes along with it?”

“Hiding something? Yes. Something we need to know, and that isn't any different than the secrets we all keep? Dunno.” Jake rubbed at the back of his neck. Uncertain, Alice thought. And uncomfortable at being reminded how he'd questioned Michael before.

Yet it had been
right
to do so. He'd raised doubt, but in doing so had forced Michael to clear it.

His hand dropped to his side. “Yeah, it works for me.” He met Alice's eyes. “And you?”

“Yes.”

“We will go then,” Selah said, and stepped closer to Jake, her blond hair fluttering around her shoulders. She rose up, kissed his cheek. “And congratulations. It came sooner than we expected, but we all knew it would come—and you are the first since the Ascension.”

Jake's brow furrowed. If it hadn't amused Alice so much, she would have pretended it was the pink light in the sky that put the color on his face. “Uh, yeah. Thanks. But I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“That's because you were gallivanting around when Michael first showed up at SI, and missed him correcting Alice when she referred to you as ‘novice,' ” Ethan said. “Seems you did something that makes him consider you a full-fledged Guardian now.”

“I did?” Jake ran his hand over his short hair, his eyebrows drawing together. Then his gaze settled on Alice, his irises like rings of polished blue stone. “Hot damn. So that was the ‘Well done, Jacob Hawkins' thing.”

Jacob.
Behind her back, Alice tried it out over her fingers, liked the feel of it.

“That sounds about right.” Ethan nodded. “I ain't kissing you, though. We'll probably have a little shindig for you at the gathering—”

“Drifter!”

“—so pretend you're real surprised.” He grinned and held out his hand to Selah, who was scowling at him. “You going to drop me in a volcano now?”

Alice didn't hear her reply. They disappeared, and Ethan was either falling into burning lava or safe on his deck in Seattle by the time she dragged her gaze back to Jake's, found it leveled on her face.

Had he been watching her during that entire exchange? And if so, he'd been thinking . . . what?

She did not like being in this uncertain, self-conscious state, yet he'd taken her there again. “What is it?”

“I'm just wondering—if ‘novice' is out now—what you'll call me when you want to remind me of my place.”

He thought she'd intended to put him lower than her? Her fingers curled, but she stopped herself from denying it. Using his rank as often as possible was about distance, not status. First names felt intimate. Yet revealing
that
would bring him closer—by however small an increment—simply through understanding.

“Hawkins, I think,” she replied.

“Hawkins.” A muscle in his jaw worked. “And my place, I'm guessing, is over here.”

So he
did
understand—or had just realized. “Not necessarily,” she said. “I'm quite capable of adjusting my own position if I do not like where I am.”

His eyes narrowed speculatively. “So if I came over there, took a victory dance like I did in Tunisia, you'd just stand still and let me? That is, you would if you liked it.”

Alice's back stiffened. What a wretch he was to tease her about this. When he irritated her, when he shoved images of gruesome clowns into her mind, she could at least respond in kind. But at some point in that niche, she'd revealed her attraction to him—and when he threw it at her, she had no ammunition to volley in return.

She could only pretend that, although he'd hit his target, it had little effect. “In these circumstances, I suppose I would stay still. I should hate, after all, to be the damp rag on your celebration.”