A Memory of Wings, page 13
Kheone's smell of earth and rain mingled with the sharp scent of lemons and old wine. The conversation grew heated, and then Michael's entire demeanor changed, softened. He kissed her, and all the breath left Shax's body, freezing him under the bush.
Shax took advantage of the archangel's momentary distraction and scurried off. Staying out of Michael's path had served him well in the past. He did not see the need to change the behavior now.
Michael, with his iron will and pure heart, was supposed to be better, do better. Yet, here he was, giving in to the desires of the flesh, exploiting Kheone's understandable infatuation with him. After all, Michael was God's right hand, the infallible leader of the Heavenly Host, and the object of awe and obedience from every angel.
It was how Lucifer had secured loyalty before his rebellion. Shax had idolized the radiant Morning Star, oblivious to the destruction his mentor wrought. He would have followed Lucifer anywhere. And he did. Shax found the price well worth paying when the Prince made a place for him in his court.
He understood from hard experience how to exploit vulnerabilities. His gut told him that was precisely what Michael was doing with Kheone.
Why was he even worrying about this? Who she kissed was of no concern to him. Just because he dreamed of her did not mean she was his. Just because every move he made since the Second Fall had something to do with Kheone meant nothing, not really. His concern was holding up his end of the bargain, so he could leave behind the machinations of both angels and demons.
Shax ran the entire way to his motel, putting as much distance between himself and the angels. The entire lot of them were giving him indigestion.
He rushed to his motel and burst into his room. Sitting in the desk chair, legs crossed like a Goddamned princess, was the same petite, curvy figure from the other night. Oh, Christ. His night was about to get a whole lot worse.
"Hello, Shax," she said with a bright smile. It didn't reach her eyes.
Taking a step backward, he bumped into a solid wall of flesh. Shax looked up into the round face of a massive demon whose mouth turned down in a permanent scowl under shaggy, black hair. His hands were solid weights on Shax's shoulders.
He sighed, resigned to this fresh, new Hell. At least she had saved him the bother of finding her.
"Hello, Aeshma."
The Duke of Lust was short. A few strands of her honey-blonde hair escaped the soft chignon and artfully framed eyes the color of a stormy sea. Those eyes were just as uncaring and just as dangerous as any ocean. The curves revealed by her skin-tight dress would make a monk think about sex. Shax was no monk.
A tall, brawny woman with short, muddy brown hair took up a position outside his room. The first demon shoved Shax into the room, shut the door, and stood against it. The only way he was getting out of here was if Aeshma allowed it. Good news was, if she wanted him dead, he would already be shaking hands with Hinndal.
"Been gone from Pandemonium long enough to forget courtesy?"
Shax suppressed the urge to tell her to shove it up her lovely ass. That would get him killed before he could take another breath. Aeshma was a Duke of Hell, and if she insisted on the use of her title and pleasantries, Shax was in no position to argue the point.
"Good evening, Your Grace."
"You even kept the venom out of your voice. You're good at this, Shaxie."
He hated the nickname, Aeshma's petty way of reminding him of what he had given up when he turned down his own title. Shax was the only demon to refuse something from Lucifer. Ever. His defiance had amused the Morning Star but scared the shit out of everyone else. Those who thought they could get away with it used a diminutive of his name to make themselves feel safer.
"Thank you, Your Grace."
A sweet giggle greeted this simple statement.
"Have a seat," she said, patting the bed across from her.
Shax sat, their knees almost touching. Her eyes flashed with dangerous hunger.
"Now, what brings you to my city?" she asked.
Son of a bitch! There went his hope she was merely passing through. His mind raced, trying to find a way out of his predicament. Maybe the Gate would miraculously rebuild itself in the next thirty seconds, and he could return to Hell.
"The fountains," he said, remembering some weird touristy poster declaring Kansas City the City of Fountains. From the little he had seen, there was a shitload of the things.
She smiled, amused rather than angry at his smart-ass reply.
"I wondered what happened to you. I saw you fall but heard not a peep. The thought of your death saddened me." Aeshma even managed a pretty little pout. "And now, here you are, spying on me from trees and thinking I wouldn't find you to ask about it later. Care to explain?"
Damn, he had forgotten the duke knew his second form.
"I did not realize Kansas City was yours, Your Grace." If Aeshma insisted, Shax would beat the honorific until it was dead. "I'm just passing through. I'll be out of your hair as soon as possible."
With dead eyes, Aeshma reached up and cupped his cheek, rubbing her thumb against his lower lip.
"You're cute, Shaxie, thinking you have a choice, now. It so happens I have a recent opening in my horde. You remember Hinndal?"
Shax nodded, expressionless, keeping his heart rate slow.
"I sent him on one little mission, and the bugger went radio silent. Can't trust anyone these days."
"I'm sorry. I thought Hinndal a dependable sort."
"As did I. Your arrival is timely. I have a job I think you are well-suited for."
"Honestly, Your Grace—" He tried to protest, but her steely glare cut him off.
"You never were a joiner, were you?"
"No. The one time I did, the results were not as I'd hoped."
This brought a musical laugh out of the slight demon. At least Aeshma had a sense of humor. Most of the Dukes did not, and Shax had often run for his life after an unwelcome joke.
"I always said you were the comedian among us."
"One must have…talents…to survive in Hell."
"Ah, yes. Speaking of talents, I am thrilled you still have your ability to transform. So many of us lost our remaining gifts that it's hard to find anyone suited to the particular mission I have in mind. If memory serves, you've always been more curious than was good for you. Let's see if I can put that curiosity to good use. Mine."
Aeshma stood up and straightened her skirt.
"If you are not in my car in fifteen minutes," she said, "I will send Asag and Orax looking for you. If they find you, they will drag you back so I can renew our acquaintance. The last time you pissed me off, you lived to regret it. This time you won't."
Her sweet smile belied the vicious punishment she referenced, sending disgust rushing through him. He could not sit comfortably for days, waiting for the skin on his back and buttocks to regrow. She leaned in, her ample cleavage almost falling out of the low-cut blouse, her spicy perfume mixed with the taste of the bile he fought to keep down. He wanted to puke on her shiny black stilettos.
"Goodbye, Shaxie."
Shax was out of choices for the moment. If he didn't join them, he would join poor Hinndal in death, probably after spending a day or two begging for such release.
The door closed behind the duke and her bodyguard. As soon as her tapping heels and the tromp of boots faded down the walkway, Shax gathered his things and stuffed them into his duffel bag.
The good news: he'd kept his promise to Kheone. The bad news: he'd kept his promise to Kheone.
Chapter Nineteen
Exactly fifteen minutes later, Shax showed up at the black sedan idling in the motel parking lot. The dark-haired heavy waited beside the car.
"You cost me twenty bucks, motherfucker," he said.
"Which one are you?" Shax asked.
"Orax."
The demon yanked the bag out of Shax's hand and opened the door.
"Hey, be careful."
In reply, the demon swung the bag at his head. Shax ducked, and the bag sailed over his head and landed in a puddle of slush six feet behind him.
"Fuck you."
Okay, that's how this would be. Shax got into the car while Orax loaded his soaked bag into the trunk. There was a bloodstain in the middle of the back seat, probably from the man he had watched them abduct.
Aeshma sat behind the driver, her other bodyguard. The duke noticed where his gaze lingered.
"I needed his help, too," she said, looking pointedly at the bloodstain. "Navigating these modern accounting systems takes a special talent, which, unfortunately, I do not possess."
Shax swallowed, knowing what she wanted him to ask. He hated giving it to her, but he must play along for now.
"What happened to him?"
Aeshma held her hand palm up with her fingers spread. A crackling ball of blue and purple flame burst into existence, and a sulfurous smell filled the sedan.
"Ashes to ashes, pet."
She closed her hand, extinguishing the flames. Orax climbed into the car, and the other, Asag, he presumed, put the car in drive.
It was one thing to make a promise to Kheone to find the Duke. It was quite another to come face-to-face with her. In the end, a perverse desire to undermine any plans Aeshma was cooking up overruled his flight or fight response. If he could pass along any details of her plans to Kheone, the angels might run a spike into Aeshma's scheme. The fact that if he left the city, he would also leave Kheone had absolutely nothing to do with his decision. Really.
A smile touched her lips, sugar laced with venom, and hunger darkened her eyes.
"I am glad you made the right choice," Aeshma said. "I've missed you. My current horde is unimaginative at best, and not one of them is nearly as pretty as you. My stay in Kansas City just got much better."
He returned her smile, suppressing the skin-crawling disgust he felt.
"As long as your hotel is better than that dump, so has mine."
"You think I would settle for anything other than the best?"
"Of course not, Your Grace."
Aeshma reached into the expensive leather purse on her other side and pulled out a small flask. She offered it to Shax.
"Have a drink. Then we'll discuss business."
Shax considered the flask, unable to hide his suspicion. Even odds she'd poisoned it.
"Oh, come on. Why would I offer you a job only to poison you?" she asked, her smile slipping a fraction. Aeshma took a sip from the flask. "There. I certainly wouldn't poison myself."
Out of options, Shax took the flask. She would, in fact, poison herself if she had the antidote. But Aeshma, unlike the other Dukes, usually needed a reason to kill someone, especially someone who might be useful to her. As far as he knew, he hadn't given her one. He was probably safe.
He was going to need this. Shax raised the flask.
"To Your Grace."
Aeshma took the flask back from him.
"You know, all this 'Your Grace' shit gets old after a while. Call me Aeshma when we're alone. You always used to."
In Hell, Lucifer had enforced his freedoms, bought with thousands of years of loyal service and other favors. Without the Prince, all bets were off. Aeshma had extended a serious olive branch. Shax grabbed hold of it.
"Thank you, Aeshma. Now, would you care to tell me why I'm here?"
"You still look good, Shax," she said, not answering his question. She would get to it when she was in the mood.
"As do you, Aeshma. Haven't aged a day." Vanity, thy name is Aeshma. Some things had not changed.
She preened under his attention, a wide smile gracing her lush lips. Shax toed a careful line. They had worked together, occasionally, when Lucifer had no other use for him. Although he and the duke shared a penchant for using sex to get what they wanted, he did not want to be pulled so far into her sphere of influence he could never escape. He would have to work against Aeshma every minute of every day in order to make that happen.
The duke's look turned calculating. "I have a proposal for you."
His flattery worked. Shax forced his body to relax, dropping his shoulders and releasing all of his tension. Every fiber of his being told him danger awaited but running now would be far more perilous.
"What could you possibly need from me?"
"With Hinndal gone, I find myself in need of a new spy. Although you can't turn invisible as he could, a demon disguised as a pussy cat might be almost as good."
A sly grin drew her red lips up into a beguiling smile. She put emphasis on the word pussy, giving away where her mind had wandered, and the gutter was a level or two above that.
"I can't drop everything because you can't keep track of your minions." Shax was pushing it, but if he gave in too easily, she would suspect his motives.
"Do you now?" Her voice was sweet, too sweet. "Figured out how to communicate with Lucifer? Some other miraculous feat I should be aware of?"
He held up his hands in defeat. It was a token protest, anyway.
"You caught me. I don't have anywhere to be, nothing to do. I'm having the time of my life doing jack shit. Forgive me for trying to keep it that way."
Better thought lazy than be suspected of betrayal. He hoped to ditch the only assignment left to him. After their recent encounters, killing Kheone for Lucifer was the last thing he wanted to do. He did not allow his mind to linger on the things he did want to do to her, with her.
Aeshma's giggles brought him back to reality. Chills ran up and down his spine, replacing the heat the simple thought of Kheone conjured.
"Poor Shaxie. Just when you thought you were free and clear, old obligations come calling. Sorry to rain on your parade, but I have need of your talents. The Gate is gone, and I'm the last duke standing, so I get to call the shots. Do well in my service, and I'll make it worth your while. Money, whores, food, drink, drugs. You can have anything you want."
Her voice dropped into a husky thrum, lingering on the anything, imbuing it with as much meaning as her pouty lips and heaving breasts could. That was what he'd been waiting for. Aeshma was desperate. She needed him. He steeled his face into bland acceptance and let her get the win, even though she had no authority to give him what he truly wanted.
"Fine. How can I be of service, Your Grace?"
She smiled wickedly at him and licked her lips. Another reason he did not want to be here. Aeshma was invariably looking to get him in her bed. Keeping her hands off him was going to take some finesse. He might miss the power of being a demon, but he did not miss the politics.
And he didn't miss the feeling of drowning in despair and corruption, poisoning his soul over and over with every kill he made on Lucifer's behalf.
"Hinndal was spying on a gathering of angels in the city for me. I need you to take over. My other source has become somewhat…unreliable of late."
He kept his muscles relaxed as his brain kicked into high gear. Irony was coming home to roost. She wanted him to spy on the angels who wanted him to spy on her. Jesus. Forget mortals being fools. Shax was at the top of the list.
Something else caught his attention. Aeshma had a source. Who? If she had another shifter, he wouldn't be sitting here having a nice, civil conversation with her. Could be a what, not a who. Maybe an eavesdropping spell gone wonky. Or they had mastered some of the newer technology and placed a fancy bug in the building. Whatever it was, Aeshma wasn't pleased. So now she wanted him.
"I can do that. When do you want me to start?"
"First thing in the morning should suffice. Hinndal disappeared a few days ago, and I know those angels are up to something." Pot meet kettle. "You need to find out what it is. I'd rather not leave Kansas City, but I will if need be. I like it here."
Here was his opportunity to put his amazing spy skills to work and pretend he knew nothing.
"Great. Where are they?" Shax asked.
"Hurst University. Have you run across it yet?" she asked, her voice all too innocent.
He shook his head. "As I said, passing through."
Aeshma smiled, a feral thing one step removed from a threat.
"I'll give you directions tomorrow. Use your discretion, but report to me immediately upon your return. If I am not in my room, I have one of these damned devices." She pulled out a cell phone and wiggled it in front of him. "Orax will give you the number."
The car stopped.
"We're here," Asag said.
She got out and opened the door for the duke. Shax retrieved his bag from the trunk. At least it no longer dripped.
He stared up at the hotel's ritzy Art Deco facade. Definitely an improvement from his one-star digs of late. If only the company he kept was better, like, in any way possible. He would rather sleep next to an alligator than here with the demons, but Aeshma hadn't given him much of a choice. Run and be hunted or join them.
"Is there anything else I need to know?"
There was a whole Goddamned mountain she was not telling him, but he could not tip his hand yet. Perhaps she believed she was sending him into a trap. Or she hoped he would get himself killed by something he didn't expect because she withheld vital information. Both scenarios were as likely as her request taken at face value. Good thing he already had an in with the angels.
Aeshma did not answer, cold cunning in her eyes, the feral grin still plastered on her red lips. She typed something into the phone.
"I have three suites on the top floor, and there's a spare bed for you. Let's get you a key, and then you can get some sleep. Unless you'd rather do something else?"
Her voice held the faintest hint of seduction. This was not the first time Aeshma had tried to lure him into her bed. It wouldn't be the last, either. Shax shook his head.
"I would hate for fatigue to lead to my discovery, Your Grace. Sleeping in a decent bed for once would be nice."
"Pity."
A flash of anger lit her face, and she strode into the lobby, forcing him to follow. He would have to tread carefully.
