Sweet Evil(48)

These were unpleasant things to hear. Kaidan breezed through it, giving me the straight facts as though quoting from a demon textbook.

“Do the Dukes whisper to people? I mean, what do they actually do?”

“No, they can’t whisper in human form, but they have certain verbal abilities of persuasion. The Dukes weave themselves into society, landing in positions of influence over leaders and societal powerhouses.”

“They don’t try to become the leaders?” I asked.

“Never. Remember, the point of their jobs is to get humans to claw their way to the top and rip their own souls to shreds in the meantime.”

The way he talked about humans made me sad. It was impossible not to think about the people who were being manipulated. The heartache. The fact that my own father played a heavy hand in this evil game.

Kaidan wrinkled his brow at me and said, “You’ve sprung a leak.”

I swiped my hands across my wet cheeks. Ugh! I gave an annoyed wave of my hand. “I always cry when I’m emotional, which is pretty much all the time. Just ignore me and keep going, please.”

He sighed and passed a tractor trailer, then took a swig of water before continuing.

“Okay, so the Dukes are placed strategically around the earth and they move as needed. They meet once a year to see where each demon will do the most damage, except the ones who are confined, like your father. There are three Dukes here in the United States right now: my father, your father, and Melchom, the Duke of Envy. Each Duke gets a quarterly visit from Lucifer’s personal demon messenger, Azael. They give him a report of their work and the state of humanity, which is passed along to Lucifer. I hear he’s satisfied with how things are going these days.”

“But humans are good, too,” I argued. “I’m sure plenty of people are resilient.”

“I suppose, but even the devout have weaknesses. The demons have to take different measures with different cultures, because some are more accepting of sin, while others are stricter. It’s all a matter of semantics and presentation. They come up with ingenious ways to promote pain and apathy, kind of like marketing schemes. Seek pleasure. Eat, drink, and be merry. Carpe diem.”

“Seize the day,” I whispered.

The hotel outside of Albuquerque was an improvement over the first night’s. Kaidan turned on his music player, placing it on the nightstand between our beds. I was starting to think of his playlist as the sound track for our trip.

I flopped down on a bed and decided to call Patti. I was surprised when I had to turn Kaidan’s phone on. He must have switched it off at some point during the drive. Now that I thought about it, today had been more peaceful without the constant beeping.

Patti sounded relieved to hear my voice. I wondered what terrible things she’d imagined all day. Kaidan turned down the music and slipped out on the balcony while we talked.

“I’ll be at the jubilee all day tomorrow and Saturday,” she said. “How about I call you as soon as I get home these next two nights, probably around eleven o’clock—I guess that would be eight o’clock West Coast time?”

“Okay, I’ll make sure to have the phone by me then.”

“Anna?”

“Yes?”

“How is Kaidan? Is he still behaving himself?”

I curled up on my bed and got a tickly feeling in my belly when I thought of him.

“Yes,” I answered. “Please don’t worry about us. We’re getting to know each other. He’s teaching me a lot.”

“Good,” she said. “I’m glad, but still. Just be careful not to let your guard down.”

Patti gave me the phone number to the convent, and we agreed I’d call when we got to California to see whether Sister Ruth was stable enough for a visitor.

We hung up after exchanging funny kissy sounds and laughing. I went to a vending machine down the hall and bought two bottles of water. Back in the room I turned the music up. I walked to the open doorway of the balcony and watched Kaidan from behind, while the waters chilled my hands.

I imagined myself putting my arms around him and leaning my cheek against the middle of his back, but he wasn’t mine to touch like that. Last night’s kiss had been a fluke. It already seemed like a long time ago. I couldn’t afford to lose myself like that again, especially now that I’d been officially “warned.”

I stepped out next to him and pressed a bottle of water against his forearm.

“Thanks,” he said, taking it. We leaned against the rail, looking out at the sleepy buildings and breathing in the warm, dry air. Our arms brushed against each other and I got a light whiff of his sweet, woodsy cologne. I took a heady breath and decided to retreat back indoors. I needed to clear my head, maybe take a jog.