“For him, anything. I want to return, and if you help me, perhaps I’ll never come back. But if you don’t . . .” She left the threat clear as day. The stakes were set.

  I pushed on the barriers of her mind, wanting to dive deep and learn every tiny detail she had hidden away. But there was a problem.

  Spikes surrounded it. A mental shield that would shred me to break through.

  Bree grinned further.

  “While uncommon for rage demons, I have one of the strongest mental shields in Hell. I wouldn’t advise trying to break through it. Even for you, that wouldn’t end well.” She winked and then passed me by, heading toward the door.

  “There’s still one problem with this plan of yours,” I said. She paused. “You don’t have a way to open a corridor. As much as this threat carries weight if you did—the fact remains, you don’t. Where it stands currently, you’re working with the humans in a way to kill supes and start a war—but that doesn’t get you back to Hell.”

  Bree stared at the door ahead of her for a moment, as if considering her words.

  “If Piper found a way after ten years, I will find one—but if supes and humans die along the way . . . so be it. You know where to find me when my sister has had enough and finally changes her mind.”

  And with that, Bree Fallon walked out of the apartment and did not look back.

  9

  I cleaned my guns twice before Sasha spoke.

  “Is that all she does?” Her voice grated my ears.

  “Mostly.” Nat shrugged and went back to dabbing at the blood on her couch with a solution meant to pull it out. Sienna helped her now that she was awake—and well, it was her blood.

  “You need a hobby,” Sasha said.

  “Don’t you have a corner you should be standing on somewhere? A dick to suck?” It was a little unfair given my background. My mother serviced vampires because that’s all she could do. I hunted supes because that’s all I could do. In this world, we didn’t always have the luxury of choosing our profession or what we were.

  But she was pissing me off.

  “I don’t know; if you don’t stop being such a pain in the ass, that demon of yours might look my way. I have experience with pleasing your atmans, after all.”

  I paused, my hand jerking to the side and sending the metal pieces of the gun crashing to the floor.

  “Get out,” I snapped in frustration, sliding off the stool to pick up the pieces.

  “It’s not your apartment,” she retorted.

  “Sasha,” Sienna groaned.

  “What? Just because I’m indebted to her doesn’t mean I’m going to let her jerk me around.”

  Me? Jerk her around? For fuck’s sake, I wasn’t even the one to start this.

  Lifting my head, I eyed Nat, who was purposely ignoring all of us.

  As if she had eyes in the back of her horns, she looked up—lips pursed and clearly annoyed.

  “Make her leave,” I said.

  Nat groaned. “Why you gotta drag me into this?”

  “Because she’s being a cunt.”

  Sasha choked on indignation while Nat sighed. “So were you.”

  “She started it. I live here.”

  “Ugh,” Nat groaned. “Fine. Sasha, can you go to your room for a bit and chill? I need her to calm the fuck down and I can’t referee you two and clean this couch.”

  I spluttered. “What did you just say?”

  Nat pressed her lips together. “Erm . . . I told her to go to her room?”

  “Her room? What room? They don’t have a room—” I started.

  “Oh, did we forget to mention that Nat invited us to stay?” Sasha said with saccharine sweetness.

  Fire ignited at my fingertips. “Oh no you don’t,” Nat snapped. “Cut that shit out. I’ve already got a hole to plaster because of you.”

  Sasha snickered under her breath. Meanwhile Sienna gave me a sympathetic look.

  I snuffed out the flames and reined in the frustration.

  “So we’re just going to take in every stray we come across?” I demanded.

  “Look who’s talking,” Sasha sniped. My hands clenched into fists. The urge to hurl her through a wall was strong.

  “Come on, Sasha,” Sienna started, getting up to lead her away.

  I waited for them to enter the side room and close the doors before releasing a breath. “What the shit? I know I don’t own this place, but I live here too.”

  “I know,” Nat sighed, setting the washcloth down. “But they don’t have anywhere to go. Lucifer is dead. The Underworld burned down. They’ve been staying at a homeless shelter, Piper.”

  I leaned against the counter and ran my hand through my hair.

  “Where will they even stay? That side room doesn’t have a bed big enough for the two of them,” I pointed out. If she was going to say I had to share my room, there would be an issue. Not because I needed my space, but because I needed space from Sasha—and I had the little habit of setting shit on fire. The twins weren’t immune.

  “I ordered a new bed that should be here by the weekend. Until then, one of them will sleep in the room and the other on the couch,” she explained.

  “And Señora Rosara? She’s okay by this?” There was no way in hell she’d already ran this by her.

  “Señora trusts my judgement. Besides, they’re half cat. I have a feeling it’ll be fine, and if it’s not, we’ll figure it out.”

  I blew out a tight breath. “I can’t tell you what to do with your place, but next time please say something to me first. I get why you don’t want to leave them out in the cold, but I’m also bonded to them now—a bond I wasn’t exactly thrilled about—and I wouldn’t have minded some space.”

  Guilt flashed through her features, but she nodded. “That’s fair, and I’m sorry for not talking to you first. Can you try to make it work with Sasha, though? I know she’s rough around the edges, but you two have a lot in common.”

  I gave her a flat look, and she groaned.

  “I’m not asking you to be best friends. Just don’t light shit on fire or get blood on my stuff, okay?”

  Well, I suppose given I was still a ‘guest’, that was reasonable enough.

  “I’ll try.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You better. That brings me to something we need to talk about.”

  “What?”

  Nat flicked her wrist and an errant wind hit the handle just right, blowing the double French doors open.

  “You two can come back out,” Nat said, as if opening the doors wasn’t a clear sign. The twins stepped into the room, Sasha looking more irritated than before—like Nat and I weren’t the only ones having this conversation. “Now that we’re all on the same page about sleeping arrangements, let’s talk jobs. I don’t mind you guys staying here, but you need to start contributing to the household. I still have bills to pay and a business to run.”

  I blanched. Of all the things I thought she’d want to talk about, this wasn’t even remotely on the list.

  “I’m still dealing with Bree,” I started. Nat squinted in my direction.

  “Where’s Bree right now?”

  “Ronan—”

  “My point. Dealing with Bree is important,” she added gently. “And I support you in figuring that out—but you haven’t dealt with her for a month, and that’s not a full-time thing. At least not right now.”

  I sighed. “Okay, that’s fair. I don’t know how much I’ll be able to contribute when most places won’t hire a human or a demon . . .”

  Nathalie squinted again. “I’m sure I’ll find something for you.”

  I blinked, then realized that I’d missed the end part of her original statement.

  A business to run.

  “I can balance your books. I’m good with numbers and very detail-oriented,” Sienna said. She took a seat on the plush rug and sprawled her long, lean legs out.

  “Really?” Nat asked, clearly excited by this development.

  “Mhmm,” she affirmed and nodded. “Lucifer might have been the face of the Underworld, but Sasha and I ran most of the business side behind the scenes. Because of the supernatural tax, I’m already familiar with your business.”

  I knew the tax she was referring to. It was one of the few things about the devil I hadn’t hated. He imposed a tax on all supernatural kind; a percentage they paid him for existing in his city. Humans were exempt from the tax, however. For a long time I’d assumed it had to do with the idea that we weren’t worth taxing because we made so little by comparison. Sad, but true. I figured their prejudice against us was the reason. Not kindness.

  “Good, we’ll sit down and get you started this evening. I’m behind on some orders from the last few months.” Nat set the washcloth aside, taking an appraising look over her couch. While damp from the solution she had been using, the blood stains were gone. “What about you, Sasha?”

  “Logistics was my focus. What comes in and what goes out. The when, where, and how. Sienna ran the numbers, but I made sure things happened when they were supposed to. I can also handle clients and acquisitions, coercion, clandestine assignments to gather intel . . .” She continued on with a laundry list of skills she had and jobs she felt confident handling.

  By the end, Nat let out a low whistle. “Color me impressed. I knew you handled most of,” she paused, her voice catching for a fraction of a second, “Lucifer’s acquisitions. But I wasn’t aware of the rest of it. Most of his businesses were hidden from the public, apart from the ones he wanted us to see.”

  “I know how to do that too,” Sasha said, her expression somber. She and Sienna had been in love with him when he’d died. I wondered if they still blamed me for it, or if Nat now shared that blame too.

  “Good. With recent events, I’m pursuing other avenues of trade I’d avoided previously.”

  I frowned. “Such as?”

  Instead of a straight answer, she gave me a mischievous grin. “Let’s talk about your skills.”

  I tried not to grimace. The sad reality was there were only a few things I was good at.

  “I can track and kill supes,” I started. Nat’s lips pressed together, and Sasha pointedly looked away.

  “I’m aware. Dig deeper.”

  A tight breath unfurled in my chest. “I’ve spent two decades learning everything I can about supes. I know about almost all forms of magic, spells, species—you name it. I know their weaknesses and how to use them to get what I want.”

  “There’s something you forgot,” Nat said.

  I lifted an eyebrow.

  “You were human. You understand them in a way none of us can”—she motioned to her and the twins—“Some of my dealings are with humans, and I’ll need that.”

  “You still haven't said what exactly this business you run is all about. I know you sell tea, but I’m getting the impression there’s a lot more.”

  She picked up her cleaning supplies and walked around the edge of the counter, dumping a few herbs into the bowl to cancel out the magical properties before emptying it in the sink. “Tea is just the tip of the iceberg. It’s where I got my start, but my business operates on a larger scale now. The short answer is I specialize in finding what makes people happy. What makes their meaningless existence in this world worthwhile—and I sell it to them. You’d be surprised at what people find sentimental or what they value.”

  “Unless you need some busted kneecaps, I’m not sure what I can do to help with that.”

  Nat lifted her head, looking me straight in the eye. “New Chicago is a dangerous place, more so now than it has ever been. Thugs rule the streets. Humans are finding ways to harness magic and rise up.” She cast a glance at the twins. “Making people happy is great, but people need to be alive for that . . . which is why I’m branching out.”

  She looked at the three of us, and I was equal parts intrigued and concerned for what she would say.

  “Into?” Sasha prompted. She sounded curious yet annoyed for the same reasons as me.

  “Magical arms dealing.”

  My jaw slipped a little before I caught myself.

  “Weapons? You want to—”

  “Purchase them. Not sell. These weapons cause mass chaos or slaughter whole groups of people. The fewer there are on the streets, the better off this city will be.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “What exactly do you plan to do with them?”

  “Track where they came from and then disable them.”

  My brow furrowed. “That’s a good idea, but your magic isn’t exactly predictable.”

  She nodded slowly, and a creeping feeling worked its way up my spine as I sensed where all this was going. “Mine isn’t,” she agreed. “Thankfully, one of my new employees is an immortal demon with more magic in her pinky finger than most supernaturals can ever possess.”

  I looked away. “You’ve got this all planned out, don’t you?” She shrugged in response. “I’m half surprised you’re not telling me you’ve already bought—” I broke off mid-sentence when her nose twitched.

  Oh no she didn’t.

  “You have, haven’t you?” I asked in disbelief.

  “Technically, I haven’t bought it yet,” she said defensively.

  “‘Technically’ we were just talking about jobs in the broad sense—not something you had planned for who knows how long—”

  “Ten weeks and two days,” she inserted quietly.

  I pressed my lips together and appraised her. That tracked to about three days after I burned the Underworld to the ground. Three days after Lucifer died. Three days after hell on earth.

  “I had to get things together. For one, I couldn’t do it alone. I needed you—but once you woke back up, you weren’t ready yet. I used the time to research. It was only last week I finally got a bite. A renegade group of humans got their hands on a pistol that has the ability to temporarily steal magic and grant it to the person wielding it. After what’s already happened, that’s a horrible thing to let loose in New Chicago. You’ve got to see that.”

  I sighed. God damn her and her sensibility.

  Damn my conscience too because it agreed.

  “I’m only agreeing to this on a trial-by-trial basis, and on the condition that you tell me everything. No holding out on shit like this.”

  She nodded once then reached into the junk drawer next to the sink and pulled out a file.

  “Our first deal is tomorrow night. This file has everything I know. All communications between us.”

  I cursed under my breath. Of course it was. I haphazardly flipped through the folder, pausing when I noticed something out of place.

  “Why does this say my name?”

  Nat looked at the ceiling. “Because you’re the witch hunter and humans won’t work with me. You will be the one making the deal tomorrow. Might want to dress warm.”

  Sometimes I regretted not shooting her when I had the chance.

  I may be immortal, but she would be the death of me.

  10

  Ronan

  “You didn’t tell me she could shield her mind.”

  “Isn’t it early for another visit?”

  Anders didn’t pause in pouring his coffee. It was an uncanny thing for someone to not react to my presence. Perhaps being half-demon himself gave him unfounded confidence.

  While I could see magic, that didn’t tell me what powers another might possess, though I could gauge their strength. He was a rare breed that I could not interpret, courtesy of his ability to glamour better than any other in Hell.

  “I can’t read her, and the situation has now escalated.”

  Anders sighed. “I haven’t tried to influence her. There’s no way for me to know these things if I haven’t been within a hundred feet of the woman.”

  “I need something other than excuses. I can’t return to Piper with this.”

  “You’ve yet to tell me what ‘this’ is,” Anders pointed out. He took a sip of his coffee and hummed under his breath.

  “That her sister is a bloodthirsty wraith whose intent is to kill everyone in her path until she can find a way to open a corridor—at which point she intends to let both humans and supernaturals into Hell.”

  Anders choked.

  Finally. A reaction. I was beginning to question if I were right to leave his autonomy and not enter his mind.

  “How do you know this?” he asked, setting the mug aside and reaching for a pack of cigarettes instead.

  “Her magic was in a bomb that went off by the navy pier this morning. I approached her about it. She was . . . unnerving.”

  Anders nodded. “She has that effect on people. I need a smoke. Join me on the balcony.”

  I followed him outside into the cool afternoon sun. He snapped his fingers and the tip of his thumb flickered with an orange flame. His control over the elements was minimal, but that wasn’t uncommon with spirit magic. He lit the tip of his cigarette and inhaled deeply.

  “I didn’t know about the bomb,” he said. “Which either means she knows about me, or she suspects she’s being followed and has taken precautions to evade.”

  “Hard to say, but I know she’s working with the humans. For now. I suspect her allegiance could switch at the drop of a dime, depending on who she thinks will get her what she wants faster.”

  He blew out a stream of smoke that was pulled away in the wind. “She’s been instigating at rallies. Spurring them on. Things are in disarray since Lucifer’s death, and you haven’t publicly taken control of it. She’s using that to incite them into believing there’s a chance,” he said.

  “They’ll never win. The only true way humans will have a measure of control is if there are supernatural laws in place to make it so.”

  “And enforced,” he added. “Lucifer tried, but he was too disjointed. His mind fractured by insanity thanks to Aeshma. He didn’t have it in him to be compassionate toward them the way they need . . . if things are to change.”

  He wasn’t wrong. My brother wasn’t the right demon for that. His own insecurities and faults making him incapable of that sort of change.

 

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