City of Demons (4 page)

Chapter Five

I went to the party, a bit dizzy on the idea that I'd just had virtual sex with a suspected murderer. Naturally, I had had sex with actual murderers in the past . . . but, well, this wasn't something I wanted to make a habit of.

Luis found me right away and handed me a drink. “You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost. And I know that can't be true since they stay away from these kinds of soirees.”

I shook my head and took down the drink. Appletini. A bit froofy for my tastes, but hey, it had alcohol in it. I wasn't about to knock that after what I'd seen today.

“Long story,” I said evasively.

“Okay.” He sipped his own drink. “So, how'd you like your first day in court?”

“It's . . . depressing. Nobody cares. Someone was asleep on the jury.”

“Only one?”

“Luis, I'm serious.”

“I know,” he said unhappily. “And so am I. That's how these things work.”

I stared off across the room, absentmindedly watching a couple of demons who seemed to be . . . very close friends. One appeared to have an astonishingly long tongue. Like, Gene Simmons long. I looked away with a shudder.

“I realize we're evil and all that.” I recalled Clyde's comment about me and my nature. “And yeah, I'm here because I gave in to temptation. So is everyone, even you guys. But, well, I don't know. I'd like to think there's some nobility in all this.”

“There is, here and there. Some have given up and completely given in to their dark sides. Some are like you, still in possession of an annoying yet adorable sense of right and wrong. Semi-good people who only made one mistake, a mistake they regret, so they still try to live with some semblance of their old selves.”

I frowned. “Are you like that? Regretting your one mistake?”

He laughed, finished the drink, and set it on a nearby table. “Oh, it's different for us. Mortals are faced with daily temptation—as well as the uncertainty of what's
really
out there in the world. Is there a God or gods? Is human life all there is before oblivion? Are you alone in the universe? I'm not saying that justifies falling, but it's certainly easy to do. If you believe there's no real higher calling in life, why not give in to temptation? Why not take the easy way out and seize your deepest desires? Maybe damnation won't be that bad . . . then, you realize it
is
. Some embrace it. Some, like you, hope that maybe holding on to that one spark of goodness will redeem you. Get you salvation.”

“I don't think that,” I said obstinately.

He winked. “Don't you, though? Somewhere, buried deep inside, is a hope that maybe things can change. Because again, mortals—or mortals turned immortals—just don't know for sure. Now us . . . higher immortals . . .” The brief amusement faded. Darkness clouded his features. “We know. We know the truth, what's out there, what's beyond life and the universe. We've seen divinity, seen the rapture . . . and we still turned away from it. It's lost to us. It's a fleeting dream, the kind you wake up from in the middle of the night, one that leaves you gasping and mortified because it's only a phantom . . . a fading memory that's forever denied, blocked by a wall through which there is no passage.”

A chill ran down my spine. I was used to lighthearted Luis and all-business Luis. This Luis—troubled, philosophical Luis—was frightening. I could see the longing in his eyes, the remembrance of that which he still longed for and could never have again. It was a haunted look, a look filled with things too big and too powerful for a succubus to understand.

He blinked, and some of that otherworldliness faded.

“And that, Georgina,” he informed me, bitterness in his voice, “is why so many demons have completely given themselves over. When you lose what we've lost, when your hope is gone . . . well, for most of us, there's no point in trying to reconcile our old selves with our new selves. It's too late.”

“But not you. Not entirely.”

“Hmm . . . I don't know. I don't know if there's anything good in me anymore.”

“But you want to see this trial conducted fairly,” I pointed out.

His smile returned. “Wanting to know the truth isn't necessarily being good. Maybe it's just curiosity.”

I didn't believe that. I liked to think there was some glimmer of that angelic nature left in Luis.
We used to be angels too
. Clyde had proven that they still burned with the power of life. But maybe I was just being naive.

“And some of us,” Luis continued, “seek the truth simply for vengeance.”

He inclined his head over to a table set with food. There, Noelle and Margo conferred about something. From the grim look on the demoness' face, I could only presume it was about the murder.

“Don't be fooled by her alleged concern for a fair trial,” Luis murmured in my ear. “And don't be fooled by her pretty face. She's dying to punish someone, dying to rip someone's head off with her own hands. Destroying one of her demons is an insult—and whatever other fancies you want to believe about us, never doubt for a moment that we're controlled by pride. Hers has been slighted, and she wants someone to pay.”

“But does she want the
right
person to pay?”

“She'd certainly like that, less because of fairness and more because she hates the thought that whoever did this to her might walk away unpunished. But if we can't figure out who did it . . . well, she probably wouldn't be too picky so long as she got to watch
someone
suffer.” He paused. “Plus, I think she . . . ‘liked' Anthony. If you catch what I'm saying.”

“Ah.” Noelle's anger suddenly took on a whole new meaning for me.

He nodded. “That's also why she didn't ask to simply look inside them, I think.”

He was referring to the same “soul reading” that Seth had asked about. If Noelle, who had brought this case to court, really pushed, she could have maybe convinced the authorities to force readings on the suspects. It might be taboo, but sometimes Hell resorted to it.

“She claimed something about how they didn't need to go those extremes and how the jury would decide in an efficient way,” he added. “It sounded quite noble. But I think that's bullshit.”

I thought about it. “Because if it turned out none of the suspects had done it and there were no other leads, she wouldn't get to take her revenge out on someone.”

“Exactly.”

Wow. He wasn't kidding. She really was out for blood.

I spent the rest of the party socializing with Luis and others, smiling and flirting in a way that came second nature to me. I had become something of a novelty—the only lesser immortal on a demonic jury—and a lot of people wanted to talk to me.

I also received a fair number of solicitations, but that was pretty common for a succubus. We were viewed as the call girls of the immortal world. Fortunately, none of tonight's offers involved peanut butter.

* * *

After the party, I found Seth in a diner a few blocks away, a place I never would have suspected of having wi-fi. He sat in a corner, focused entirely on the laptop in his usual way. His devotion to his work was infuriating at times, but it was adorable too. Watching him, I felt a sudden desire to run my fingers through his hair and make it messier still.

He hadn't noticed me entering, and when I had almost reached him, one of the waitresses stepped up to the table. She was young, lower twenties, with her blond hair pulled up into a high ponytail. Underneath the blah uniform, I could see a perfect hourglass figure. She had the good looks of a struggling actress, but I half-suspected she wasn't anorexic enough to meet today's starlet standards.

“You want more?” she asked, holding up a pot of coffee. The orange rim signaled decaf. Typical of Seth.

I waited for him to ignore her, but to my surprise, he looked up right away. He smiled at her. It was the cute half-smile that always made me melt.

“Sure.”

She filled the cup, leaning over to do so. And then—I swear it—Seth's eyes hovered briefly on her cleavage before looking away. Impossible. Seth almost never checked women out. I stiffened.

“What chapter are you on now?” she asked.

“Thirteen.”

“Thirteen? Are you taking speed with that decaf? You were on eleven last time I checked.”

His smile twitched. “The muse is in a good mood tonight.”

“Well, send her to my place. I've got a ten-page paper due tomorrow.”

“Is that the history one?”

What kind of question was that? Had he learned her life story after only a few hours?

She shook her head, ponytail swaying. “English. Gotta analyze
Dracula
.”

“Ah, yeah.” Seth considered. “Vampire stories. Slavic dualistic concept of life and death, light and darkness. Harkening back to pre-Christian myths of solar deities.”

Both the waitress and I stared. Seth looked embarrassed.

“Well. Not that Stoker used much of that.”

“I wish you could write this for me,” she said. “You could do it in five minutes. I can't believe you wrote all that. Where do you get all those ideas?” She grimaced. “That's probably a stupid question, huh?”

“Nah. Someone I know thinks that, but honestly, it's a good question. I just don't have a good answer, I'm afraid.”

That “someone” he referred to was me, and I didn't really appreciate being delegated to a non-specific pronoun. The appropriate designation would have been, “My stunningly brilliant and beautiful girlfriend whom I adore beyond all reason . . .”

She laughed. “Well, if you figure out the answer, let me know. And let me know if you need anything else.”

I swear, there was a subtle inflection in her voice when she said that, like she was offering more than just coffee. And Seth, amazingly, was still smiling at her, even regarding her admiringly. He'd also been almost comfortable in chatting with her. Usually his shyness took over with new people, and you could barely get two words out of him—and even those came with a heavy dose of stuttering.

I swallowed back my jealousy. Seth and I had our arrangement. He was perfectly entitled to go after cheap waitresses if he wanted. Besides, I was above such petty insecurities.

The waitress passed me on her way back to the kitchen.
Beth
, her nametag read. Alliterative with bitch.

Okay. Maybe I had a little pettiness.

I strolled over and sat down across from Seth.

“Hey, Thetis,” he said. He smiled at me, but it was a leftover smile from Beth.

“Hey,” I returned. “Think you can drag yourself away?”

“Let me finish this page, and I can. Cady's about to figure out who the culprit is.”

“Too bad she can't help me with this trial.”

He looked up from the screen. “No insights at your party?”

“Someone tried to bribe me.” No need to get into specifics. “And Luis concurs that the whole thing is corrupt.” I smiled. “You going to come back tomorrow to see more antics?”

He typed a few words. “No . . . if it's all right. That whole thing freaked me out. And I'm kind of on a roll here. This place has a good vibe.”

“Yeah,” I said carefully. “That waitress seems pretty nice.”

“She is,” he agreed, eyes still on the screen. “She reminds me of you.”

I kept smiling, but I wasn't entirely sure if I should feel complimented or not.

Chapter Six

Whatever resentment I held toward Seth and the waitress faded pretty quickly when we got back to our room. He held me as securely as ever, kisses light on my skin and affection radiating around him like an immortal signature.

I let him sleep in the next morning as I blearily dressed and headed downstairs for day two of the trial. To my surprise, there were a lot less spectators than the previous day.

“They saw what they wanted to see and went home,” Luis explained to me. We stood near the entrance to the room, drinking coffee. “A lot of this is just sensationalism. The thrill is gone, though some might come back for the sentencing.”

I glanced over at the jury's table. “At least none of
them
left. I kind of expected it.”

“Nah. They know better. There'd be serious consequences if they took off from something like this.”

Apparently, though, none of the demonic jurors felt they had to do more than just be present. They proved just as negligent as yesterday. The suspect today was a demon named Kurtis.

“Kurt,” he corrected Margo.

“Kurtis,” she said, “can you tell us about your relationship with Anthony?”

“Relationship? We barely had one date. I'd hardly call it that.”

A few people laughed at his joke. He'd chosen a lanky form and pale skin, with hair that kept falling into his face. If he was concerned about being accused of murder, he didn't show it. His chronic smile indicated how silly he thought all of this was, Margo most of all.

She glared at his impertinence. “What I mean,
Kurtis
, is how did you know Anthony?”

He opened his mouth, and I would have bet anything he was about to crack another joke. Just then, he happened to make eye contact with Luis, and the accused demon's face sobered a little bit.

As the story unfolded, we learned that Kurtis had once been Anthony's archdemon. This perked the jurors up a little bit. Archdemons, as the leaders and power players in our world, tended to be better at self-constraint. Luis, Noelle, and even Jerome were good examples of that. If archdemons did take on others, it was their peers—not underlings. If Kurtis had indeed destroyed Anthony, it would be a juicy scandal. An archdemon undergoing a five-hundred year flaying would be equally compelling.

“Nothing'll happen to him,” murmured the demon sitting beside me, as though reading my mind. He was the one who was into peanut butter. “He's here because they wanted to make it look like they had a full group of suspects. You know, like they'd really researched all the possibilities. There isn't enough evidence against him.”

I was surprised to hear something so astute from one of my colleagues. “That must be why he's so laissez-faire about all this.”

“Yup.” The demon's eyes studied Kurtis, then gave me a curious look. “What about Nutella? You into that maybe?”

When Anthony had worked for Kurtis, the two had apparently had a fair amount of tension between them. It wasn't entirely clear if Anthony had done something to warrant the antagonism or if it was just a personality conflict. Regardless, Kurtis had taken retaliatory measures against his unruly employee.

Margo was pretending to read her clipboard again. “So, let me get this straight. You burned him alive?”

Kurtis shrugged. “If you can call it that. I mean, it didn't do any permanent damage. And really, are we alive? Don't we just exist? Or, in his case now, not exist?”

“And you locked him in a box at the bottom of the ocean for a month.”

“It was a roomy box.”

“And you decapitated him.”

“No.”

Margo looked up from her clipboard, eyebrow raised. “I have several witnesses who say otherwise.”

“I only partially decapitated him,” Kurtis countered. “His head was still attached . . . technically.”

Margo continued to go through a laundry list of assorted tortures Kurtis had inflicted on Anthony. Horrible or not, I had to admit the archdemon was pretty creative. Anthony had finally filed a complaint with higher authorities and gotten a transfer. He'd also gotten in very good with a high-ranking demoness. She'd made arrangements to ensure Kurtis was punished for his transgressions. No torture, though—well, at least not in the physical sense.

He'd been transferred to Belgium.

The mention of this dimmed Kurtis's humor a bit. The transfer was still a bitter point with him. It had happened four centuries ago, and he was no happier about his current locale than he'd been then. He'd apparently spent these last four hundred years being quite liberal in his slander and criticism of Anthony.

“And you're up for a possible transfer now, aren't you?” asked Margo.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Hmm. Coincidental timing.”

He snorted. “Hardly. Why would I destroy him now? You think I'd want to risk getting in trouble when my review comes along?”

“Or,” said Noelle, suddenly speaking up, “maybe you wanted to make sure he wouldn't be able to influence the review committee.”

Kurtis gave her a tight, mirthless smile. “That's your own wishful thinking, Noelle. You have no fucking clue who did this, and you'll take anyone you can find.”

“I'll take whoever's guilty,” she replied. She'd matched the steel in his voice but still wore her usual composure. “And I'll make sure they pay.”

* * *

I left the proceedings that day with mixed feelings about Kurtis. With his history of violence and casual attitude about said violence, he did make a suspicious figure. On the other hand, I had to agree with him about the danger of taking out Anthony with the transfer hearing so close at hand.

Just like the day before, I was the only one to ask any real questions. I wanted to know when Kurtis and Anthony had last seen each other and if Kurtis had an alibi. He did, but again, I didn't doubt a demon could come up with any number of people to lie for him.

Post-trial parties held little appeal for me today, so instead, I decided to go straight to Seth's diner. The notion of just hanging out and doing something mundane like watching a movie had astonishing appeal. Besides, I was feeling guilty about my neglect.

When I stepped inside the elevator, I was surprised to see Noelle riding down as well. We stood there in that awkward silence elevator passengers often have, our eyes trained on the numbers as we descended. Daring a sidelong glance, I again admired her pretty features and remembered what Luis had said about her loving Anthony.

The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. “I'm sorry about Anthony.”

Her sea-colored eyes flicked from the numbers to me. Bitter amusement glinted in them. “You're the only one, I think.”

I thought so too. “I . . . I know it's hard to lose someone you're close to.”

“Close, huh? You've been talking to Luis. He might be the only other person who cares about this too.” A small frown wrinkled her brow. “But I believe you. You do know what it's like. That's the thing with you lesser immortals . . . you're always around humans, getting caught up in their muddled emotions. Loving them. Losing them. Getting betrayed by them. You'd be better off staying detached from all that. Save yourselves a lot of pain.”

I wanted to tell her that if she'd loved Anthony, then she wasn't a very good role model as far as emotional detachment went. Instead, I said something completely asinine.

“Well. I don't think you can really have happiness if you don't have pain too.”

Something like a snort caught in her throat. Noelle's eyes swept me, and I felt as though she suddenly could see my life story without the benefit of a reading.

After several moments, she replied, “You must have a lot of happiness then.”

I held back a glare and left the elevator when it opened, murmuring a polite good-bye as I stepped out.

I walked down to the diner and caught sight of Seth through the window. He sat at the same table, and so help me, that fucking waitress was there again. The door was propped open to let in the nice weather. I started to step through, hesitated, and then retreated. There was a small overhang around the side of the building, obscured from the rest of the street. I sidled over to it and shape-shifted into invisibility. Returning to the front door, I crossed the threshold, hidden from mortal eyes.

Beth was laughing when I approached. “Really?” she asked. “You get love letters?”

“Sure,” he said. The abandoned laptop sat before him. Didn't he have deadlines or something? “Not sure I really deserve it . . . but they show up more than you'd think. I've actually gotten poetry too.”

“Like dirty limericks?”

“No, thankfully. Got some haikus once, though.”

She laughed again. “The more you tell me, the more I really want to read your books. I've got to go pick up one.”

Seth shrugged. “No need. Give me your address, and I'll send you a couple.”

“Oh, no. You don't have to . . .”

He waved her off. “They send me boxes of them. It's not a problem.”

“Wow, thanks.” She grinned. She had a cute smile for a shameless tramp. “That'd be great. Maybe . . . maybe I could get you coffee as a thank you. I mean, coffee not from here.”

Seth didn't quite catch it at first, then I saw the surprise register on his face. “Ah,” he said. The social ease and banter he'd just had abruptly shut down. “Well. I . . .” He hesitated, and suddenly,
suddenly
, I wondered if he was hesitating over whether to accept rather than choosing words to refuse her. After what seemed like an eternity, he shook his head. “No. I can't. Not . . . no. Not really. I'm, um, probably busy.”

Her face fell a little. “I understand.” A moment later, she mustered a smile. “Well . . . let me check on some tables, and then I'll be back.”

She sauntered off across the restaurant, and I wished that dress wasn't quite so snug on her ass. Seth's eyes followed her, a bit regretful.

Suddenly, I didn't want to talk to him quite so much after all.

I left the diner, my emotions in a tangle. I discretely shifted back to a visible form and headed down the street, moving toward the hotel but not really sure I wanted to go back there either.

“He likes her,” a voice suddenly said beside me.

Startled, I turned to find Kurtis walking along with me. He'd appeared out of nowhere. I didn't bother asking what he'd just seen. Demons could move around with their signatures masked, and I supposed it was time for his bribe.

“No, he doesn't,” I said immediately.

Kurtis laughed, the same unconcerned laugh I'd heard in the courtroom. “Of course he does. She's hot.”

“He loves
me
,” I said.

“Love doesn't stop people from betraying each other.”

It reminded me a bit of my conversation with Noelle. We passed near a bakery, and he beckoned me toward it.

“Come on,” he said. “Let's talk. This place makes great éclairs.”

Which is how, five minutes later, I found myself sitting at a table and eating a cinnamon roll the size of a car tire with another potential killer.

Kurtis didn't speak until he was halfway through his second éclair. “So. Where were we? Ah, yes. Your naive belief that love can keep a man from cheating on the one he loves.” He fixed me with a knowing look. “Honestly, I never thought I'd hear that from a succubus. You of all people should know better.”

He was right. I did know better. I couldn't even keep track of how many men I'd lured away from the women they loved. Affection and reason tended to get a little murky when the body and its hormones took over.

“Seth's different,” I responded.

“Of course he isn't. He's a man. He likes women, and that woman wants him so bad, her panties get wet each time she refills his coffee.”

“Doesn't matter. She's not his type.”

“She's the female type. And she's pretty.”

“She's a waitress. Seth wouldn't go for that.”

“She's a waitress using her shitty job to put herself through college. You saying a geeky guy like him wouldn't respect that?”

Yes, Seth would indeed respect something like that. But I still didn't want to go along with any of this.

“He still wouldn't do it.”

“Why? Because he's getting it somewhere else?” He gave me a pointed look.

I honestly shouldn't have been surprised if he knew everything about me. Still, I had to ask. “How do you know that?”

Kurtis licked chocolate icing off his fingers. “How do you think, little one? That guy's got a soul brighter than a five-hundred-watt bulb. If he was sleeping with you, it'd show. And if you were going to do it, you'd have already done it.”

“He's above physical needs.” It was quite possibly the stupidest thing I'd ever said, more so than the happiness and pain comment in the elevator.

“No one's above physical needs. Not even demons. Look at Noelle and her insane obsession with all this.”

I tossed my hair back, putting on my best bland look. “Well, I don't care if Seth wants to sleep with that girl. Not like he'd leave me for her. Besides, we have an arrangement. He knows he can get sex on the side if he wants. I don't care.”

Kurtis threw back his head and laughed. “The fuck you don't. I don't have to be an angel to know you're lying. It would kill you if he slept with someone.”

“It wouldn't,” I said, even though he was right.

“Have you noticed that their names rhyme? It's pretty cute.”