The humor vanished as a blast of hot air streamed over the roof. “Well, you’re obviously not smart enough to sense when to watch your mouth.”
“Funny you would insult my intelligence when you had no idea I was following you.”
His upper lip peeled back in a snarl that would’ve impressed a cougar. “Following me? If that’s true, then you’ve made the stupidest mistake of your life.”
“Well.” I drew the word out, taking a small step back. I was careful to keep some distance between us so that he didn’t get outside my center vision. “I don’t think this would even make the top ten stupidest mistakes I’ve made.”
He hissed, and yep, he no longer sounded like a cougar, but like a very ticked-off lion. “You’re going to beg for my forgiveness.” He sunk into a crouch, hands clawing. “And pray for your death.”
I tensed but planted a smile on my face. “So unoriginal. I’m experiencing secondhand embarrassment on your behalf. Why not get a little more creative?”
Suit Demon stared at me.
“Like how about ‘you’re going to beg me to stop chewing on your entrails’ and ‘pray that I toss you off the roof’? Now that paints a not-so-pretty picture, don’t you think?”
Suit Demon blinked.
“Why don’t you give that a try?” I suggested helpfully. “And let’s see if I move this encounter to the top twenty on my stupid list?”
The demon let out a keening growl, a cross between a wailing infant and rabid hyena. Tiny hairs all over my body rose at what had to be one of the most obnoxious sounds ever. “I’m going to rip out your tongue,” he promised. “And then shove it back through your throat.”
“There you go!” I clapped excitedly. “That’s so much better—”
Suit Demon launched into the air, just as I’d expected, and I bet he thought he looked fearsome enough for me to wet myself. I wished I could see his expression when I rushed into the attack, but alas, I was just going to have to pretend he had an oh snap look on his face.
Dipping down, I slid under him as I reached up and grabbed ahold of his legs. The demon’s momentum and strength worked in my favor as I yanked his legs down. Hard. Harder than I realized. Letting go, I popped up as he slammed belly down onto the roof several feet away, the impact rattling the door on the nearby shed and causing the lights to flicker. Inky liquid sprayed out across the rooftop—from his face.
Damn.
I didn’t realize I was that strong.
Unsheathing the daggers, I stalked toward the demon. I had a different weapon—a far better one. My grace. But it was too risky to whip out here, in the heart of the city, even though it was burning through my stomach like acid, demanding I let it out.
That I use it.
The demon flipped onto his back, leaving the facade of his human form behind. The fair hair disappeared as his skin shifted to a burnt orange marbled with swirling streams of black. He lifted his hand, and the inky substance on his skin flowed to his palm, forming a shadowy ball.
Oh, Hell to the no.
I fell forward, slamming my knee into his midsection as I leveled the business end of one of the daggers to his throat and the other above his heart. Either area would be fatal.
“These are iron daggers,” I warned him. “Whatever you’re about to do with the little ball of nightmares, think twice. You will not be as fast as I will be.”
His pitch-black pupilless eyes widened, and I guessed he was shocked by my strength and general awesomeness. He had no idea what I was, but if he did, he would be trying to devour me the way I’d happily dig into a hamburger. Consuming my grace would not only give the demon untold power and strength, it would be the closest it would ever get to Heaven.
I was a Trueborn, and in the giant pecking order of things, this Upper Level demon was a declawed cat compared to me.
The shadow ball pulsed and then collapsed into a fine dust of unspent power. “What are you?” he gasped.
“The official roof police,” I retorted. “And you and I are going to have a little chat.”
4
“You foolish, idiotic human,” the demon sneered. “I’m—”
“Not very observant and uncreative? We’ve already established that and it’s time to move on.” I pressed the throat-level dagger against his skin, and I think the demon stopped breathing. “Answer my questions, and maybe I won’t impale you to the roof through your throat.”
The demon glared at me, silent.
I smiled back at him. “Are you working with Bael?”
There was a slight flaring of the demon’s nostrils, but he remained quiet.
“You’re going to want to play along and do so quickly, because I have the patience of a hungry toddler and a severe problem with impulsivity. I don’t think before I act. Are you working with Bael?”
His lips peeled back in a snarl, revealing jagged sharklike teeth, and I wondered if he had a little Nightcrawler in him. “Bael isn’t topside.”
“Bull. Poopy. Yeah, he is. I’ve seen him with my own two eyeballs, and he’s been spotted in this very area of town. Try again.”
He growled.
I rolled my eyes. “You do realize that unless you have helpful information, you’re going to be dead before you can find a breath mint.” I paused. “And you need one. Stat. Because your breath is kicking.”
“Aren’t you a cute little thing,” he snapped back. “Well, not so little. I think your ass is crushing my diaphragm.”
“That’s my knee, you idiot, and that’s not going to be the only thing that gets crushed.” To drive home the point, I slid my knee down his stomach, stopping just below the belt. “Tell me where Bael is.”
The demon stared up at me for a moment and then he laughed—deep belly laughs that shook me. “You stupid cow—”
I flipped the dagger at his throat so that it was handle down and swung my fist into the side of his head, cutting off his words. Wet warmth sprayed against my palm. “Didn’t your mommy demon teach you if you don’t have anything nice to say, shut the Hell up?”
He cursed as I pressed the other dagger harder into his chest, tearing the fine material of his shirt. “You’re...obviously out of...your mind if you think...I’m going to say crap about Bael. I’m not afraid of death.”
“But you’re afraid of Bael?”
“If you know anything about Bael, then you know that was about seven different levels of a stupid question.”
“Do you think he can do worse to you than I can?” Anger flared, and the need to dominate got the best of me as I leaned down so that we were eye level. I knew I shouldn’t do it. It was wrong for a hundred different reasons, but I let just the tiniest bit of my grace spark. The corners of my vision, which were usually shadowy and dark, flipped bright white. “Because I’m here to tell you that he can’t.”
His eyes widened, and when he spoke, there was a mixture of horror and awe in his voice. “You’re it. You’re the nephilim.”
I reigned the grace back in, and the white light faded. “First off, the term nephilim is so outdated, and second, you have been talking to Bael, because—”
“If it was common knowledge that one of your kind was in the city, you’d already be dead.” His eyes went half-mast, and a lazy smile crossed his swirling orange-and-black face. “Or worse. Right? Is it true? What they say about your kind and mine?”
My lip curled as I stared at him. He looked near orgasmic, and that was more than a little disturbing. “Is what true?”
“That if a demon eats you—”
I shifted, digging my knee into his groin. He shouted in pain, withering under me. “Yeah, I’m just going to stop you right there. Tell me where—”
“It wasn’t Bael that...” He dragged in a deep breath, gasping through the pain. “It wasn’t Bael who told me about you, you stupid cu—”
Punching him again, this time in the jaw, I made sure the dagger handle got in on the action. “That better have been the word cutie that was about to come out of your mouth.”
After spitting out blood and possibly a tooth, the demon straightened his head. “It was him.”
Coldness seeped into me even as I became aware of the increased pulsing warmth in my chest. “Who?”
“The one who sold you out. What was his name?” The demon laughed, spit and blood leaking from the corners of his mouth as his arms fell limp to his sides. “Ah, yeah. Misha. Funny thing is, I haven’t seen him in a couple of days. Wonder what’s going on with him? Other than being dead.”
“You spoke to Misha?” A tremor coursed through me. “What did he say to you? What did you—”
“You killed him. Right? Sent his soul to Hell. That’s where he is now, because he was just as evil as I am.”
A shudder rocked me. “You’re lying.”
“Why would I lie?”
“I can think of a lot of reasons,” I seethed, but even as I said the words, they rang untrue. “Tell me what he said or—”
“Or what? You’ll kill me? You’re the nephilim. I’m already dead,” he said, and I had no idea what that meant. The demon lifted his head off the roof, thick tendons standing out of his neck. “You killed him, and it’s already too late. You have no idea what kind of storm is coming your way.”