Thieves: Steal The Day Part 14

He would have been a blast in Vegas if we'd made it there. Mary Jo came into view, her pinched face looming over me. "You should be ashamed of yourself, trying to force an angel to fall."

"That's rich, lady, considering you're about to sacrifice him to a demon."

That brown bouffant shook. "Do you think crops just grow themselves? I don't particularly like having to do this, but if the okra doesn't come in, what is our community going to do? The demon is just going to eat the angel. I'm sure he'll float back up to Heaven. If you had your way, he would fall."

"This isn't going to go the way you want it to. I'm not who you think I am, and trust me, there isn't a demon around who wants to mess with me." I didn't mention that it was my husband they didn't want to mess with. It tends to take a little of the "bada.s.s factor" out of the speech. "Whatever demon you're about to call, once I tell him my name, he'll kill you."

I hoped that was true. Demon kind wasn't allowed to write contracts with anyone considered the property of Vampire. It really only made sense that they weren't allowed to eat us either. I thought I was fairly safe, but I had some fast talking to do if I wanted to save my supremely stoned lover. He was giggling as a couple of coven members made sure the symbols on his chest were properly drawn.

"Stop it. That tickles," he said.

"You aren't an angel." Mary Jo stared at me like I was a piece of trash.

"Neither is he," I told her. "You have no idea what you've gotten in the middle of."

Mary Jo laughed. "The truth is I'm saving him. He was going to fall if he stayed around your kind. This way his soul will go to Heaven, and my master will be happy. Your soul, if you even have one, will go with my master."

I lifted my head as far as it would go. "I'm a companion. Do you understand what that means?"

Mary Jo's eyes widened. "A companion? Like a vampire's companion?"

It wasn't shocking she was surprised. She could be surrounded by witches and demons and werepigs and it would never have occurred to her that I could be a companion. We're extremely rare, and as such, very few companions live outside of vampire society.

"Yes, I am."

"You're lying."

"Then why were there vampires in your woods last night?"

"It's a coincidence." But she looked around as if wondering what was hidden beyond the light of the torches.

I made one last try at reason. "Do you understand the nature of a vampire, you crazy witch? Do you think you can take me from him and he'll let that pa.s.s? Do you have any idea what he'll do to you?"

She stared down at me, her face lit with pride. "I am protected. I have given four innocent souls to the lord Nemc.o.x. He won't let some nightcrawler harm me. I'm important."

I laid my head back down because there was no point in talking to the clinically insane. "Then bring him on because I bet he's more rational than you are."

The witches gathered in their circle, and after settling some coven business like nailing down the date for the next potluck, they finally got around to the business of chanting. Chanting is very important to witches. They take it seriously. They also take their d.a.m.n time doing it.

"Zoey." Dev called to me as I was trying to see if I could tell anything from the Latin they were chanting. "Zoey, I had a thought. I've never done it on a black altar right before a coven calls a demon. We could check it off."

I groaned because Dev's s.e.xual bucket list was getting longer by the minute. I knew we were getting closer to the grand finale when the name "Nemc.o.x" was chanted over and over again. I hoped this was the real thing and not some group of deluded asylum escapees. I might have a shot dealing with an actual demon. If they were all just taking a little of what they gave Dev and spilling some blood and calling it a ritual, then we were screwed.

The thought also occurred to me that I might be overestimating my celebrity. What if this Nemc.o.x hadn't been reading the demonic version of People and had no idea who I was? I was certain it wouldn't be the first time some poor sacrifice had tried to talk him out of his dinner by claiming they were too important to eat.

The chanting reached a crest, and Mary Jo held her hands up as she finished the incantations from the black leather book.

The minute I smelled the brimstone, I knew I was in luck. I forced my head off the wooden altar, and sure enough, there was a medium-sized, red-skinned demon looking around. When I say medium-sized, I mean for a demon. They can run to the extra-large, so I was less intimidated by this one than I had been by Lucas Halfer. Of course, I was really intimidated by Halfer, so it's all relative.

The demon roared, greatly impressing the coven. They were effusive in their praise for their master. There was a lot of b.u.t.t kissing inherent in this ceremony. Mary Jo was particularly good at telling the demon how much she wors.h.i.+pped him and how devoted she was. Apparently, she and Mr. Renfro were trying for innocent sacrifice number five. I was really going to have to kill her if I got the chance.

"Great Nemc.o.x, we have not one but two souls for your pleasure this evening," Mary Jo stated grandly, her hands gesturing toward the altars. "I've used my special divining necklace to bring an angel to feed your hunger."

The demon turned his head toward the altars, suddenly very interested in what was on the menu. I strained to try to see him. His dark eyes looked at Dev, and then he took a deep inhale, scenting the air. I expected him to leap onto the altar and begin the bloodletting, but that great horned head was thrown back, and a menacing laugh filled the air.

"You really are a stupid b.i.t.c.h," the demon said in a very familiar British accent. My heart sank. He was walking my way. "There are absolutely no angels here. You managed to bring me something even better." The demon smiled down at me, his fangs s.h.i.+ning brightly. "Zoey Wharton, what a surprise. Long time no see."

Of all the demons in all the planes, Mary Jo had to sacrifice me to Stewart. He was the one demon who had a personal beef with me, well, besides Halfer. He'd tried to ruin a job I ran earlier this year, and Daniel had broken his neck and then shot him and then Dev had killed him, too.

"Hey, Stewart." I tried a bright smile. "Nice to see you survived. I knew you would pull through."

"No thanks to you, love. I don't suppose you brought along your sweet little puppy, did you?" Stewart had been very impressed with Neil. Not that it helped us since Stewart had then sicced a weretiger on him. "And where is that nasty vampire you married? Felicitations on your wedding, dear. So sorry I haven't sent a gift yet. I'll have to remedy that. Let's see who you did bring with you."

The demon jumped from my altar to the one holding Dev.

Dev looked up at him and laughed. "I don't think that's Stewart, Zoey. He looks weird."

Dev had never seen Stewart in his demonic form. Unlike Halfer, Stewart couldn't change forms at will. If he wanted to look human, he had to possess some poor sap. He liked to call it his meat suit. It usually ended poorly because Stewart didn't take great care of his clothes.

Stewart grinned as much as someone with enormous fangs can grin. "Maybe I should have a little of what he's having. h.e.l.lo, Fae creature. Your mind is so open right now. You're a dirty, dirty boy. He's about to die and would you like to know what he's thinking about?"

I could guess. Stewart was an empath. He picked up on emotions and could magnify them for his own use. It was important to remain calm around Stewart or he could learn things you didn't want him to learn.

I needed to bring his attention back to me and away from the never-ending p.o.r.no that likely played in Dev's brain. "Leave him alone, Stewart. You deal with me."

One of the witches slapped me hard across the mouth. My head snapped back and hit wood. Pain ripped through me. I managed to maintain consciousness, but I could feel he'd drawn blood.

"You do not talk to the Dark Lord, b.i.t.c.h," he snarled.

Stewart looked at the witch, his face darkening. "Don't you touch her." Stewart hopped off the altar, stalking the witch who struck me. His cloven hoofs stirred up dirt. He hauled the witch up with one hand, and I could see the witch start to choke, his legs twitching. "She's worth a hundred of you. She's a companion. Do you know how rare a creature she is, you mundane idiots? Even the ridiculous Fae creature is worth more than all of you put together. Her value is immense, and if one of you harms her again, I will kill the lot of you."

Stewart let the witch drop to the ground, but I didn't think he would get up again.

"Thank you." I was polite because I needed him. I didn't do defiance when courtesy would work just as well.

"Don't thank me, love," he replied shortly. "If anybody is going to hurt you, I want it to be me."

"Great Lord." There was a tinge of hysteria to Mary Jo's voice, as though she was just figuring out I had told her the truth. "How can you choose some human s.l.u.t over your devoted followers?"

The demon rolled his dark eyes. "Yokels," he muttered. He waved his hand. "Witches, silent."

The witches found themselves robbed of the power of speech. They touched their throats trying to speak but nothing would come out.

He looked back down at me. "So, I was looking forward to seeing you at the ball, love. What were you going to wear? I was thinking Brad Pitt. I don't know though, he's getting a bit long in the tooth. If I wanted to be terribly ironic, I could wear that boy from the Twilight films. Note, dear, I am using the past tense since you won't be going to the ball anymore."

"You aren't going to kill me, Stewart," I said with a surety I wasn't feeling.

Stewart smiled and walked slowly around Dev's p.r.o.ne form. "He thinks I am. It's just now penetrating his drug-addled brain. He's very upset." Stewart ran a finger over Dev's sculpted chest. "He really is lovely, dear. You have excellent taste in men. You are f.u.c.king him? These images I get from him aren't just his fantasies? You must tell me what you're doing to these men to keep them in line. This one could screw anything he wanted. He's descended from an actual s.e.x G.o.d, but he follows you around like a pathetic lapdog, and then there's the vampire. He should have killed this one the instant he looked at you with those covetous eyes of his. Yet the Green Man lives and shares your bed. Seriously, companion, what's in those pants of yours because I need some of that."

"Cut the c.r.a.p, Stewart," I said flatly, not willing to engage him. "Do you really want to deal with the Council? It didn't go so well for Halfer."

"It wasn't the Council that tripped up old Brix, love. That was you." Stewart was still running his hands over Dev's body, caressing him like a lover. Stewart did love a hot boy. "I should have sent you a thank you note. Sometimes I forget my manners. You really did set Brix back, and that helped me immensely. He's making a bit of a comeback, though. I really would like to know how he's doing it. But I digress."

Suddenly one the witches decided this game had gone far enough. The witch came at the demon, a ceremonial knife held above her head. She probably thought that little piece of engraved silver was defense against a Lord of h.e.l.l. I had no doubt that whoever had sold it to her had promised a demonic killing machine. Unfortunately, you can't get something like that off the Internet or at a little shop that sells incense and herbs.

This is the problem with calling demons that almost no one is willing to accept. Demons are evil. They might help you out to start with, but sooner or later they will turn on you. Being able to call a force of nature to your hand might seem like a powerful thing to do, but after a while, you forget who has the real power. Stewart showed her. With a flick of his hand, her throat came open and sprayed across the field.

"Son of a b.i.t.c.h," I screamed as I got a nice coating of witch blood.

The rest of the witches were running, but it didn't do any good. Their throats split, heads falling back like broken dolls. Blood ran and the demon licked his chops. He breathed in the death, loving the feel of all those souls rus.h.i.+ng to h.e.l.l.

"I really was getting tired of coming here anyway," Stewart said, brus.h.i.+ng off the deaths of people who had wors.h.i.+pped him. "Now that's over and we won't be interrupted. I've thought about what you said, and the truth is you make a point. Ripping your heart out and gobbling it down while you watch really will cause me more trouble than pleasure. I suppose your vampire would be very upset. I doubt he would let the matter drop. So you're off the hook, so to say."

I sighed, thankful that demons really were easier to deal with than backwoods witches. "Let me up, Stewart, and I think you'll find that my husband will be grateful."

Stewart ran a finger across Dev's now blood-soaked chest and brought it to his lips. "Yes, he will be grateful, won't he? Your boy has ambitions. Anyone can see that. The Council is arrogant if they think they can control that one. I, for one, think he can do it. I've played around in his head, and I think he's capable of far more than you could dream of. You think he's doing this for the greater good, companion, but you're underestimating the lure of power. It calls to him. He's caught between his love for you and the need to see if he can be a G.o.d. Which need do you think is going to win? I have a suspicion. I think your boy is going to give this world h.e.l.l. I think this plane will run red with blood before he's done. That is a man whose grat.i.tude I would find useful. He might be thankful if I let you go, but how much more would he value me if I did the one thing he cannot do?"

Suddenly that knife was in his hands, and he was tracing a light line across Dev's very vulnerable throat. That dumba.s.s knife had meant nothing to the demon, but it would nicely spill my lover's lifeblood. Terror engulfed me. I strained against the ties that held me down because all it would take was a little flick of the demon's wrist to end Dev's life.

"Please, don't." I would do anything, say anything to keep that knife at bay. I couldn't just lie there and watch it happen.

Stewart's eyes lit with triumph. "There, now, that's what I was waiting for. You're awfully good at keeping me out, but there's that terror I love. This is excellent, dear. You love him. That can't make your vampire happy. Poor little Zoey, caught between two men. They're going to chew you up and spit you out. I would be doing you a favor, too. This one is going to get you in trouble. Take my advice. Serve your master, companion. Give him the blood he craves and warm his bed. That's your job. It's what you were born to do. This one might bring you pleasure, but he'll bring you all down in the long run. Trust me on this. In the end, you'll thank me."

He took the knife in both hands and held it over his head.

"I know what Brix is doing," I shouted, giving up the last card in my hand. If this didn't work, Dev was dead, and I would spend the rest of my probably short life trying to kill one demon.

Stewart let the knife fall harmlessly to the side. "Now, see, you really do know how to get a gentleman's attention. I'm listening."

This was desperation but I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't let Dev go, and there was no way to lie to Stewart. He would know immediately if I wasn't truthful. He was smart to bring out my emotions because I had nothing to hide behind now. "He has an angel."

Stewart thought about it for a moment. "Are you serious?"

I opened my mind as wide as I could, letting my every emotion spill across the demon. He actually took a step back as he took it all in. "You tell me if I'm serious."

"Fine. So Brix is juicing an angel. That explains his resurgence. How is this supposed to help me? I'm not in a position to steal from him, and snitching tends to get you in hot water on the h.e.l.l plane."

"I'm going to handle it." I was grateful for the d.a.m.n ropes now because my hands were shaking.

He looked at me like I was insane, which I probably was. Then a light of recognition lit those black eyes. "The witch's divining amulet. Of course, that's why you're here. It really works? I thought she was just bat-s.h.i.+t crazy."

"It works. I'm going to use it and free the angel. Halfer will lose his advantage on the very night he needs it."

There was a triumphant smile on his really scary face. It was nice to know my plan was demon approved. "You're an interesting woman. You plan to sneak out of the ball with your little divining rod, find the angel, unbind him because the only way Brix could keep him is to bind his magic, and then return him to his plane. You're going to die, you know."

I had him in my trap. I just had to close the door behind and make sure he was in. "Probably. But what if I don't?"

"I think it will be immensely entertaining either way." Stewart waved his hand and my limbs were free.

Though my every muscle was shaky and weak, I forced myself up and made my way to Dev. I climbed on his altar, taking his face in my hands, rea.s.suring myself that he was alive. Tears clouded my eyes as I stared down at him. So close. That d.a.m.n knife had been so close to his throat. With aching hands, I started to work on his bindings.

"Allow me." Stewart didn't need hands to undo Dev's binding. They simply fell away.

I pulled Dev's head into my lap, my hand smoothing back his hair. He opened his eyes, obviously fighting the drugs that were coursing through his system. "Zoey, you need to run, sweetheart."

And leave him here? I knew it was the most expedient thing to do, but I simply couldn't. "Not on your life, lover. You go back to sleep. I'll take care of everything. It's going to be all right now."

"Touching," Stewart said with disdain.

In the distance, a siren began to wail. I turned toward the sound and down the mountain I saw red and blue lights turning in the darkness.

Stewart sighed as he watched the police cars move ever closer. "Apparently your husband realized it was time to call in the cavalry. These idiots might have been fairly useless, but they set up a good defensive perimeter. Well, my time here is at an end. I look forward to the ball, dear. See that you don't disappoint me. I might not be able to contract with you, but I still think it might be a good idea to get in your husband's good graces. I can do that any number of ways. It's your choice. If you want your lover alive, you'll do the job." He reached down and picked something off Mary Jo Renfro's dead body. He tossed it to me. "Don't forget this."

The Revelation. In all the horror of the evening, I'd almost forgotten about it. I put it around my neck, a sense of peace coming over me.

With a blast of brimstone, Stewart was gone, and I was left with thirteen dead witches, one stoned faery, and very few explanations anyone would believe. I should have run. It was standard. Don't get caught by the cops. It was rule number one in the thieves' handbook. I was supposed to run and deal with getting Dev out later. But I sat there, kissing his forehead and feeling the rea.s.suring beat of his heart against my hand. I just sat there and waited to be taken into custody.

It occurred to me that Stewart was right. My love was going to take us all down.

Chapter Fifteen.

"Hey, sweetheart, I just thought of something," Dev laughed, looking up at me. "I haven't done it in a jail cell. Well, not in the U.S."

Faeries can handle their alcohol. They can handle a substantial amount of it. Don't try drinking a faery under the table because he's still going to be sitting there long after you fall out of your seat. Hard-core drugs, on the other hand, are a completely different story. It had been three hours since the police found us huddled together surrounded by corpses, and if Dev had sobered up any, I couldn't tell.

The Bristol County Jail was so small it only had one holding cell, so Dev and I had been placed in the cell together. It was better that way because Dev was very difficult to handle. This was a police force that was built to take care of the occasional drunk and perhaps citizens who refused to acknowledge the annual burn ban. It was not ready for ma.s.s murder. The entire police force had answered the call. One sheriff and two deputies had shown up, guns drawn, and the two deputies promptly began throwing up. At least the sheriff had been able to hold it together.

I ran my fingers through Dev's thick hair, the softness soothing me. "We don't have time to check anything off your list, baby. Daniel will be here soon."

He sure as h.e.l.l better be. It had already been far longer than I expected to wait. Daniel should have been here busting open the freaking bars and getting us the h.e.l.l out of here. I'd already been booked on suspicion of multiple homicides. The fact that I was covered in blood didn't help my case. It also didn't help that the police knew all the victims, but I was an outsider.

I wore an overly large jumper because the police had taken my clothes. Evidence. I wasn't supposed to leave behind evidence. The sheriff was on the phone calling larger cities in an attempt to get an actual crime scene unit to the farm. From what I understood, the local vet served as the county coroner, and he was on a fis.h.i.+ng trip.

I'd given an alias for my name, and Dev was incapable of giving them anything. I'd been through processing and had everything taken from me. Knowing the Revelation was in some evidence room was just one more problem I didn't need. I was going to have to pay a visit to that little room before I left. To top off my trouble, I heard the sheriff calling for someone to take the male to the hospital. I really didn't want that to happen, hence my wanting Daniel to hurry the h.e.l.l up. It was time to blow this backwoods town before the feds showed up, and they were going to show up.

"I am looking for Sheriff Jones." A familiar voice was speaking quietly.

I checked the clock. Three a.m. I was going to kick Daniel's a.s.s for making me cool my heels this long. Even as it was he hadn't come in person. He'd sent Chad. I scooted out from under Dev's now sleeping form and walked to the bars. I had to strain, but I could see Chad looking very professional in a suit. His face was flat, and he looked p.i.s.sed to be pulled out of bed to have to deal with this s.h.i.+t. There was a man beside him, but he was in sweat pants and a T-s.h.i.+rt. I pegged his age as close to fifty. He yawned as he stood beside Chad.

"I'm the sheriff," a gruff voice replied.