Thirteen
Page 81

“That revealing ourselves might be a bad idea.”
“At least we should slow down. Then Thomas Nast died and people were talking about angels and demons and … it just …”
“The liberation movement imploded,” I said. “Too much pressure from too many sources. Members bailed. Outside support dried up. Giles went ballistic and swore to show them all the error of their ways by launching the first wave of infections. With a virus that still hadn’t been proven. Am I close?”
She nodded. “He said it worked. That they’d finished trials and Bryce Nast was an immortal, superhuman warrior. He even showed us pictures. That’s why Dave drank the water.”
“Photoshop is a marvelous thing,” I said. “My brother is lying in a hospital bed in Miami.”
Her gaze dropped, and I knew that whatever she’d been telling herself, she’d still hoped she was wrong.
“Are there two strains of the virus?” Adam said. He’d come back partway through the conversation. “The one in Austin seemed different.”
 
She nodded. “That one has to be injected. The other can be spread through water or food, which is easier, but the chances of it working aren’t as high.”
“So what’s the plan now?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Giles stopped talking to me. He just gives orders through Severin and Sierra. I know he was trying to contact Lucifer. He says Lucifer holds the key. Lucifer can make this work.”
“Where is he?”
“I—I don’t know.” She started to shake. “I want to help, but I don’t know. No one does.”
“The place where they were holding me. Where is it?”
“In Indiana.”
“Where in Indiana?”
“N-near Indianapolis. B-but not too near. It isn’t in a city. I’ve never gone there by myself. We just get in the van and Severin or Sierra drives.”
I tried to get more—landmarks, distance from the airport, anything. I kept the grilling as gentle as I could, reassuring her that it was okay, no pressure, but of course there was pressure and she knew it, and it wasn’t long before she began hyperventilating. Then the medic intervened and said he had to sedate her for the rest of the trip. Whatever else she could share, she’d need to do it in Miami.

Veronica Tucker died before we landed. There was no agonizing, dramatic exit. We weren’t even sure exactly when she passed. We were sitting there, talking among ourselves as she slept. Then the medic came in to check on her and said she was gone. Her injuries had been severe. He told me he’d doubted she’d make it through the trip. He kept reassuring me until Adam told him to shut the fuck up. I hadn’t asked him if my interrogation led to her death. I understood that it may not have helped, but we needed that information.
I hadn’t liked Roni. She’d gotten me kidnapped and could have gotten my friends killed, all because she wanted supernatural powers so she could be “special.”
A silly, selfish twit. Not the best epitaph. I hadn’t wanted her dead, but I wouldn’t lie awake at night thinking of how it could have been different. She’d done us wrong and then she’d helped us. The slate was clean.
The jet landed right after that. We were getting off when I stopped and hurried back on, Adam behind me. The medic popped his head into the main cabin as I headed for Roni’s body.
“I need to grab something from her,” I said. “Does she have any rings?”
The medic stared at me.
“It’s a personal item,” Adam snapped. “In case a necromancer needs to contact her spirit to ask more questions.”
The medic mumbled something about tending to the living and withdrew. I folded back Roni’s covers. She was indeed wearing rings.
I was tugging one off when Roni tugged back, her arm jerking.
Adam yanked me away. “She’s infected.”
Roni’s eyes opened. They stared at the ceiling. Then her lips parted. They stayed like that for a moment, then she whispered, “Child of Asmondai. Is that you?”
“Who are you?” Adam said.
The corpse didn’t move. It just stared blankly at the ceiling. After at least ten seconds, we heard another whisper from the corpse. “Kimerion. I am Kimerion.”
“Yeah?” Adam said, stepping forward. “You’re no demi-demon if you can’t move that body.”
 
“Weak,” the voice rasped. “I got too close to de Rais and Balaam’s demons found me. Haven’t been able to contact you.”
That part was true—Kimerion had been out of contact for days.
“Lucifer,” Kimerion said. “De Rais needs to summon Lucifer. His only chance.”
I sighed. “We know that.”
“Like your grandsire, you have no patience,” the demi-demon hissed. “Yes, de Rais has long wished to summon Lucifer. That wish is now an obsession. He is desperate. He thinks he knows the key. He no longer waits and plots to obtain it.”
“And that key is … ?”
“The blood of Lucifer.”
“Hope,” I said. “He thinks her blood will open the lines of communication with Lucifer. Let Giles offer his allegiance. Cut a deal.”
“No deal. No allegiance. A threat.”
“What?”
Adam answered. “He’ll threaten to kill Hope and her baby.”
“Threatening a lord demon? Is he crazy?”
“I believe we’ve already established that,” Cassandra said, coming up behind me.
“But that won’t work. Lucifer may take an interest in his children, but not enough to save her.”
“Lucifer is diff—” Kimerion began.
A long, exhaled hiss of breath. Roni’s eyes closed.
 
 
HOPE
 
Karl was prowling. From one side of the bed to the other, into the hall, down the hall, up the hall, back to the bedroom, pacing like a caged lion. Or caged wolf, Hope supposed she should say.
She could stop him. Tell him he was making her dizzy and keeping her from getting some rest. But she was enjoying watching him pace. He was wearing only sweat pants and the sight was very nice indeed, muscles rippling under scarred skin. It was not a sight she got to see outside the bedroom—he was too self-conscious about those scars.