Eve of Chaos (35 page)

“Thought you
might like something to drink,” the demon said in a friendly voice designed to
fool those who might be watching through the glass. Eve got a different show
from the front. His lip curled back, revealing the pointed canines of a
vampire. “Holler if you’d like anything else. There are plenty of us out
there.”

Sitting back
slowly, she glanced at Ishamel. He hadn’t moved, but his eyes were open. The
Infernal didn’t pay him any mind. Eve didn’t know if that was because he was
stupid and couldn’t pick out a celestial without a Mark’s scent, or if he was
so cocky he didn’t view a
mal‘akh
as a threat.

“Thanks,” she
said aloud. Then, she spoke through her smile. “The bounty’s over.”

“I ain’t heard
that.”, he hissed back. “Lying bitch.” The Infernal departed, but his stench
lingered, capping off what had been a brief but crappy day. She set her pen
down.

Either the demon
was seriously out of the loop, or Sammael had reneged on his end of the deal.
She wished she knew which one was true.

“We should go,”
Ishamel said. His lips moved without sound,
Before too many of his friends
arrive.

I’ll finish
this later
Eve wrote a quick “to be
continued. . .“ on the page, then stood.

Ingram was at
the door the moment she opened it. “Are you done? Before you leave, I’d like to
go over your statement with you.”

“No, not done
yet,” she said, glancing to the left and right, highly conscious of the number
of eyes watching her.

It wasn’t safe
for her to be out anywhere with a price tag stapled to her forehead. Not that
she could tell Ingram that. What could be safer than a police station, right?

“We need that
report, Ms. Hollis,” he said sternly, his mustache twitching in a way that
hinted at impatience. “It’s vital to our getting a clear picture of what
happened.”

“I’m sorry. I
didn’t realize it would take this long.” She touched his arm, but pulled back
when he tensed. “I borrowed my friend’s car—since you have mine— and I
have
to get it back to him.”

“It’s only been
thirty minutes,” he pointed out.

“My client is
very busy,” Ishamel said smoothly.

“Can you come by
the tower for the rest?” Eve asked, regretting that she was taking up the
detectives’ precious time. They should be working on crimes they could solve,
not dicking around with her. “Do I
have
to fill it out here?”

He frowned.

Jones appeared
behind him. Shorter and lighter than his partner, he’d approached stealthily.
“I’ll give you a call in the morning and set up a time.”

“Good. Thanks.”
Eve shook both their hands quickly. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

Ishamel caught
her arm and steered her toward the door. “When we get outside the front doors,
I’ll shift us back to the tower.”

“I can’t leave
another car behind. You’ll have to come back and get it.”

“I don’t drive.
Abel will have to do it.”

“You
don’t—”

They’d barely
put their hands on the handle of the double doors, when they were ambushed.
Bold as you please. Shoved outside with hurricane force.

Ishamel sailed
into the landscaping on the right side of the door. Eve was sent spinning like
a top on the ball of one foot, making a few revolutions before she stumbled to
halt.

“Ms. Hollis.”

She looked at
the door and saw Jones standing on the threshold, holding it open. She brushed
flyaway tendrils of hair back from her face. “Yes?”

He looked around
her. She did, too, trying to see where Ishamel might have gone. The only
evidence of the tackle was some broken branches on one of the bushes and some
fine ash that bore witness to the death of an Infernal. The
mal’akh
himself
was gone, most likely shifted away to avoid being seen.

“Where did your
lawyer go?” the detective asked.

“Bathroom.”

Jones frowned,
but nodded. “I was wondering. The car you borrowed. . .“ He looked beyond her
to the parking lot and whistled. “It
is
the Lamborghini.”

“Ub.. . yes.”

“Mind if I check
it out?”

“Uh. . .“ Shit.
Her gaze darted around the lot again. It looked peaceful enough, but she didn’t
want to risk the cop, too. Infernals had already proven that they’d take
anyone, anywhere, anytime.

The door opened
again and Ishamel stepped out, looking none the worse for wear. She breathed a
sigh of relief.

Jones was already
walking toward Reed’s car. Eve rushed to catch up. Ishamel followed at a more
discreet pace.

It would be
safer to shift,
the
mal‘akh
said.
But it appears we have no choice.

She disengaged
the car locks and alarm with the remote, and Jones opened the driver’s-side
door. He glanced over his shoulder at her. “No scissor doors?”

Eve gave a
clueless shrug.

The detective
stood in the V of the open door and looked at the interior. With the top down,
he had an unobstructed view. She glanced at Ishamel, who stood guard on the
other side. The feel of Infernal eyes was strong.

If they could
just get in the car…

“Very nice,”
Jones said. “How does it drive?”

“Like a dream,”
she said, with a smile that felt strained. “Detective, I’m sorry. I really do
have to run.”

“Right.” He
backed out of the way. “I’ll give your office a call tomorrow.”

“Great.”

Eve hopped into
the car and got it started. Ishamel waited until she put the transmission in
reverse before climbing in beside her.

Jones stood nearby,
watching them with an eagle eye. The detective didn’t trust her as far as he
could throw her.

Backing out of
the spot, she hit the road.

It was hard
driving while trying to keep an eye on any possible threats. Eve relaxed
slightly when they reached the intersection of Katella and Harbor, feeling
somewhat safer in a crowd. The sidewalks were clogged with tourists and
business-attired pedestrians leaving the convention center. The excited screams
of riders on the various California Adventure amusement park attractions
competed with the thumping bass of a nearby car radio. There was a tiny
souvenir shop next to the 7-Eleven on the corner; its wares spilling over into
its equally tiny parking lot. Customers picked through racks of Disney- and
California-themed T-shirts, while a postcard display stand reminded Eve of
unfinished business.

“Would you
investigate a postcard I received right after I was marked?” she asked,
returning her attention to the road. “It came from Gadara Enterprises, so
someone there has to be responsible for it.”

“What do you
want to know?”

The tower was
only a short distance away but from the looks of things, Eve was pretty sure
Ishamel had already called in reinforcements. There seemed to be an inordinate
number of white Chevrolet Suburbans around them.

“Well, for
starters,” she said, “who sent it. I want to ask them why.”

A police car
flashed its lights and chirped its sirens until it maneuvered into position
directly behind her.

“Jesus,” she
breathed, wincing at the burn of her mark. “Is he trying to pull me over?”

Ishamel looked
over his shoulder. “I sent it.”

“What?
Why?” She eyed the cop through the rearview mirror.
The Infernal revved his engine and grinned beneath his shades. The vamp again.
Her hands fisted on the wheel.

The Lamborghini
was at the light, first one on the line, but in the middle of the multilane
road. She was stuck until the signal changed.

“Divine
compulsion, perhaps?” Ishamel replied. “I saw the postcard on Raguel’s desk and
thought it might pique your interest. The building wasn’t done and it needed a
designer.”

“If you’re
trying to say that it had nothing to do with turning me into a Mark, I don’t
believe you.”

He looked at
her, then resumed staring at the squad car behind them. “It had everything to
do with the Change. You were agnostic. Appealing to your secular talents was a
substitution for appealing to your faith, which is why Raguel scheduled a job
interview with you. The postcard was meant to be a follow-up, an added lure.
But Raguel was called away and Abel was. . .
impatient.
You were marked
before it reached you.”

The opposing
traffic light changed, turning yellow. Eve prepared to hit the gas. “What about
the tengu?”

“I didn’t know
about the tengu. As I said, perhaps it was a divine compulsion. Not all
coincidences are bad, after all.”

An
eighteen-wheel barreled west down Katella. As the pedestrian countdown timer
began to flash red, the semi’s front tires crossed over the line.

The demon revved
his engine again. She pretended to run her hand over her chignon to disguise
flipping him the bird. He slammed into her, shoving her forward into the middle
of the intersection.

The semi hit its
horn. Eve saw her reflection in the chrome grill and screamed.

Look at that
car, Adam. There’s nothing left of it’ Alec kept his eyes closed and pretended
he
was sleeping. His mother’s fascination with the news and daytime drama
programming was beyond his understanding. Why couldn’t she watch chick flicks
or the action movies Eve favored? Instead, she’d been surfing through cable
news stations since the soap operas had ended, switching channels whenever a
commercial popped up.

A soft snore
from the opposite couch told Alec that his dad had managed to crash. Alec
couldn’t, and not just because his mother insisted he hang out in the living
room with them. His hand kept straying to his chest, rubbing at the amulet even
as his mind pondered how the thing worked. Good luck charm? Bullshit. It was
designed to repress something, and he wanted to know what it was. What was in
him that was affected by the amulet, and how did Hank create the suppressant?

 
“Those expensive sports cars fall apart when
they get hit,” his mother continued. “If Abel wasn’t a
mal’akh,
I’d make
him get rid of that car of his. The one on TV is just like his and look at it
now, you can’t even tell it used to be car. I can’t believe a police office was
responsible for such a horrible accident

Alec opened one
eye and glanced at the TV. The reporter stood on the corner, pointing at the
vehicle splattered like a bug against the grill of an eighteen- wheeler truck.

“. . there are
said to have been several repair requests on file for the police cruiser—a Ford
Crown Victoria—involved in this accident. It is not yet known whether the
patrol car malfunctioned or if driver error played a part in this tragedy. The
name of the officer involved and the identities of the occupants of the
Lamborghini convertible have not yet been released.”

Alec froze,
realizing that the twisted and charred metal on the screen was silver not due
to chipped paint, but because silver had been the color of the car.

He bolted
upright.
Abel!

What?
his brother snapped in reply.

Leaping out of
the recliner, Alec startled his mother into a screech, which in turn caused his
dad to roll off the sofa.

Where is your
car?
he asked carefully.

In the
driveway of the tower

His eyes
squeezed shut, along with his throat.
Where is Eve?

She’s at—

The sudden
silence was ominous. Broken by a sudden banging on his front door.

“Cain”

Recognizing
Ishamel’s voice, Alec shifted out to the hallway, pushing the
mal’akh
aside
to look left and right. When he didn’t see Eve, he set off toward her condo.
“Where is she?”

“I don’t know”