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Oh. I swallowed dryly. Lucifer controlled reproduction in Hell, and the Androgynes were the only demons capable of reproducing. Santino’s creation of Eve had been a blow to Lucifer’s power, one he couldn’t cover up or simply ignore. Hence Lucifer’s throwing me into the snakepit the first time.
The waitress came back with heavy real-china teacups, poured us both fragrant jasmine tea with shaking hands. She set the pot down and retreated in a hurry, her bowl-cut black hair shining under the fluorescent lights.
“Why didn’t Lucifer kill us both when you… Fell?” I didn’t expect him to answer.
He surprised me once again. “I suspect he thought he might have further use for us. In any case, I know better than to try to breed.” Japhrimel’s eyes dropped to the tabletop.
The steam rising from my teacup took on angular, twisting shapes. I cleared my throat. There had only been one time in my life that I’d even contemplated having children, and that time was long past. Still… “What if I wanted to breed?”
I felt his eyes on me, but I looked at my teacup. Silence stretched between us.
“Never mind,” I said hurriedly. “Look, let’s just focus on one problem at a time. We should get everyone out of that damn hotel and into a safer place. Then we can start figuring out which demon’s here in New Prague and what he’s likely to be pla
“Do you want children, Dante?”
He could turn on a red credit’s thin edge. No more sarcasm. Instead, his tone was quiet and level. Of all the varied shades of his voice, I liked this one best. I stared at my teacup, willing the lump in my throat to go away.
“No,” I said finally. “I have enough trouble trying to deal with you.”
That made him laugh, a sound that chattered the teacups against the table. I stole a quick glance at him; looked back down at the table. I knew every line and curve of his face, almost every inch of his skin. It wasn’t enough—I wanted to know what was going on behind those glowing green eyes, under that perfect poreless golden skin, behind that face that wasn’t as gorgeous as Lucifer’s but somehow enough for me, beautiful the way a katana’s deadly curve was beautiful.
I wanted inside. I wanted to crawl inside his head and know for sure that he wouldn’t abandon me.
“Japhrimel.” My voice cut through his laughter. “What gave you the brilliant idea to bargain for a demon’s Power again?”
He sighed, shaking his head. His hair was almost longer than mine now, falling over his eyes in a soft shelf. “I wanted it for one simple reason. To protect you, Dante. A hedaira is only as safe as her A’nankhimel can make her.” It had the quality of a proverb, recited more than once.
Way to seize the moment, Japh. “I thought you said there weren’t many demons who could threaten you, even Fallen.”
“After we are done killing for the Prince, he may find us expendable.” Japhrimel’s tone had turned chill. “If that happens, I want every iota of Power I can possibly gather. I will not give you up. Not to Lucifer, not to your own folly—and not to your precious Death either. Therefore, I saw a chance and took it. It was not premeditated.”
I stole another glance at his face. He looked over my shoulder, his eyes moving in a smooth arc. His right hand, resting on the table, had curled into a fist.
“Oh.” I certainly couldn’t argue with my own continued survival. “Well. That was a good idea, then, I guess.”
He said nothing, but his eyes met mine. It was just a flash, but I could have sworn he looked grateful.
The woman arrived with the food—beef and noodles for me, a plate of something that looked like egg rolls for Japhrimel, who thanked her courteously. I scooped up a pair of plasilica chopsticks and set to with a will.
He didn’t touch his food.
I looked over his shoulder, through the windows at the street. Marked traffic. Uneasiness returned like a precognition, swirling around me. I finished a mouthful of noodles, took a sip of tea. “So what do you think is going on? You have any ideas about these demons? Anything that might be useful?”
He moved finally, spreading his hands against the tabletop. “Enough to begin hunting, and enough to understand there is another game being played here.”
I caught a bit of beef with my chopsticks. It was a relief to be able to eat with my right hand again. And it was nice to be in a Freetown, where you could be reasonably sure the meat wasn’t protein substitute. Substitute is a good thing, but it leaves me still hungry, as if I haven’t eaten real food. “What kind of game? Lucifer seemed to blame me for not knowing he was asking for me, too. What was that all about?”
“You were vulnerable. He could have broken you, Dante.” Japhrimel paused. “He still might.”
It was time for a subject change; not only was he not answering the question I asked, but he was telling me something I already knew. I lifted up my left hand, the wristcuff glittering in a stray reflection of light from the street outside as I took another slurping mouthful of noodles. “Mind telling me what this is?”
He shrugged, his eyes dropping back down to his plate. I didn’t think he was going to eat any of the eggrolls—after all, he didn’t need human food—but I was wrong. He picked one up, bit into it. “A demon artifact,” he said after he finished chewing. If I hadn’t thought him incapable of nervousness, I would have thought he was actually stalling.
I waited, but that seemed all he would say. “Meaning what? What does it do?”
His tone was quiet. “I don’t know what it will do for you.”
Or to you. The unspoken codicil hung in the air.
I looked down at my soup. It was the damnedest thing. I’d have sworn I was hungry. Ravenous. But all of a sudden I’d lost my appetite. A chill prickled down my back. “Do you have a datpilot code for any of the others?” My eyes flicked over the front window, tracking a stray dart of light; it was a reflection off an airbike’s polished surface. I looked back at Japhrimel, uneasiness turning my stomach over.
He didn’t look surprised. “You wish to contact them?”
“I want to tell them to get out of there now. I don’t like this. My neck’s prickling.”
Japhrimel reached under the table, for all the world as if digging in a pocket. If I didn’t know what his coat was made of, I would have believed the pretense. He extracted a sleek black datphone from under the table, pressed a button, and lifted it to his ear.
I looked back over his shoulder. The unease crystallized as I heard him murmur in what sounded like Franje. A true linguistic wonder, my Fallen.
I slid out of the booth, gaining my feet in one smooth movement. My thumb clicked the sword free of the sheath’s embrace. I heard a gasp from a normal behind the counter, ignored it.
Japhrimel looked up, his hair falling over his eyes. “Dante?”
“Are they getting out?”
“Of course. I respect your instincts. I suppose this means we won’t finish lunch?” Damn him, he was back to sounding amused.
“I’ll pay.” I meant it, too; but he rose from the booth like a dark wave, tossing a few New Credit notes down. Of course, money means less than nothing to a demon, he never seemed to need it but it appeared whenever there was any question.
“My pleasure. What do you sense?”
“I’m not sure. Not yet.” But I will be soon. The precognition rose through dark water, aiming for me… and passed by, circling. If I could just relax, the vision would come to me. Precog isn’t my strongest talent; it’s only spotty at best. But when it comes it’s something to be reckoned with, for all that it usually comes too late.
The first dark, rain-heavy clouds slid over the sun. Shadow crawled over the street, hoverwhine rising and settling in my back teeth, the vision of something about to happen jittering under my skin. I didn’t need to look down at the wristcuff to know it was glowing green. Me and the fashionable accessories. My skin crawled at the thought that Lucifer had given this to me and I had blindly put it on.