Torn(67)

“I’ll have to remember to upgrade,” I said. I kept my knife in my hand—which probably destroyed the whole “innocent” thing—and headed toward them.

“What were you doing?” Kiera asked. “Why the hell were you up close and personal with Deacon Camphire?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I said, shooting for an annoyed, yet casual, tone. “That’s what this is about? What do you think I was doing? Trying to get close to the guy. Trying to figure out what he knows, because I’ve been getting weird vibes about him for a long time.” I looked straight at Clarence. “You know what I mean, right?”

His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say a word. Interesting. This was the first time I’d seen Clarence do the silent-guy routine. I couldn’t say I liked it much.

“You looked close to the guy, all right,” Kiera said.

I rounded on her. “Dammit, Kiera, do you really believe I’m working for the dark side? I’m fighting my nature, just like you. We’re alike, you and I, so you tell me—what side are you on?”

She leaned forward, kicking her feet to the ground, ready to lunge. “I know exactly what side I’m on. And I know what I saw.”

“You saw me and Deacon,” I said. “You saw me finding out where the third relic is.”

Across the room, Clarence hissed in a breath. I turned my back to Kiera and walked to him. “And thanks so much for the support, both of you. I mean, God! I go out and try to do one thing—one really good, solid thing—and you both assume the worst of me.”

“You’re certain about the piece?” Clarence asked.

I nodded.

“How? How can you be sure?”

The beer in his hand was empty, and I took it from him. This was going to be the tricky part. “I was afraid you wouldn’t approve,” I said as I wandered into the kitchen. “So I didn’t tell you. But I’ve suspected he knew something for a long time. And I wanted to figure it out on my own.” I opened the fridge and grabbed a beer, then looked back toward him as I popped off the lid. “You’re probably really mad at me, huh?”

“I’m not happy,” he said. “But if the information is good . . .”

“Oh, I think it’s solid.” I brought the beer back to him. And when I did I made sure our hands touched. And I made sure I looked into his eyes.

And then—yes—I was in. And in a split second, I saw it all. The knowledge and innate skill to spin the incantations. The ability to master the map that even now burned on my arm. To find things—relics, vessels, keys, and more.

I didn’t find a damn thing about Deacon’s legendary key, but I didn’t have time to look either. I’d only wanted a peek. Wanted to make certain the incantations came from him—from his very essence—and not from a book.

I wanted to make sure that by killing him, I’d gain the ability I needed. That I would truly become an In-cantor.

I was certain now.

I jerked free even as he was still howling in surprise and protest.

Barely any time had passed at all, but it was enough for Kiera, and as I thrust my knife forward to strike Clarence, she tackled me from the side, sending my blade askew.

It skimmed over his body, slicing his shirt and drawing a thin line of black, demonic goo, but it didn’t kill him. It didn’t even come close.

“You idiot!” I screamed as I deflected her blows. “He’s a demon. He’s a goddamned, fucking demon.”

I rolled her over so that she could see, and knew that she believed when I heard her whispered curse. The black goo was proof enough.

But I realized what had really convinced her when I scrambled to my feet—Clarence, his clothing ripping as his demonic form burst free. Wings sprouting. Talons growing.

And angry, buggy eyes fixed right on me.

TWENTY-FOUR

“What the fuck is going on?” Kiera screamed,but I had no time to answer. Clarence was alive. Alive and pissed and seriously deadly.

For the first time in our short acquaintance, I was really and truly afraid of the dude. Because this wasn’t my mild-mannered, froggy handler. This was a full-fledged powerful demon. Penemue’s right-hand guy.

“Bitch,” he snarled. “Traitorous fiend.”

“Me?” I countered, my knife out as I circled him, trying to guess how he was going to attack. “I’m not the one who lied and pretended to be heaven’s messenger. Who the hell are you?” I demanded, because there was no way I was believing this beast’s name was Clarence.

“I am Clarvek,” he said. “And you will join me.”

Behind me, Kiera sucked in air. Right then, I wasn’t much concerned about her shifting perspective on the world, though. Right then, I simply needed to get Clarvek dead.