Page 204 of Nightshade

“Detective Hines?”

“Hello, Farryn. Nice to see you again.” In the next breath, he pulled out a gun and aimed it at Remy. Before the angel could react, Hines shot a bullet into Remy’s chest.

“Remy!” I lurched toward him, as the angel dropped to his knees, and the look of shock on his face told me he wasn’t accustomed to being leveled by a bullet.

“Don’t worry.” The air of humor in Detective Hines’ voice sent tendrils of fear skating down the back of my neck. “It’s only enough celestial steel to hurt. It won’t kill you. Yet.”

Holding Remy’s head in my lap, while he gasped for breath, I swung my attention back to Hines. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m surprised you don’t recognize me, Lustina.”

A flash of memory hit my brain. A red-haired boy. Dark brown eyes.

“Drystan?” I didn’t know why I’d had any suspicion that it was him, considering I’d never actually seen him, but the guy was apparently a dead ringer for some distant memory in my head.

His lips stretched to a grin. “I can’t wait to catch up.”

61

Jericho

Under the cover of night, I balanced on the mansion’s parapet, watching the hefty, old Mister Barchiel--or Bishop Venable, as I knew him--hobble into his elaborate home. Was probably futile going there, but I needed answers. Pacing back and forth in my office like a caged animal only served to push me deeper into my dark thoughts. Every muscle in my body shook, the rage turning me just crazy enough to flay the old man alive, if he pulled any tricks.

Cicatrix watched from where he sat perched on my shoulder, quiet and stealthy. I swooped down to Barchiel’s second-story balcony, sending Cicatrix flying into the air. As late as it was, I expected he’d be retiring to bed soon, so I slipped in through the window into his bedroom and, flattening myself against the wall beside the door, I waited.

Only a few, short minutes passed before the knob turned and the sound of Barchiel’s overexerted, panting breaths filled the room. He flipped on the light, still seemingly unaware of my presence, and limped toward his bed.

Cicatrix landed on the railing of the balcony at the same time I moved in for my attack.

The old man groaned and shooed the bird off, and I lurched from the shadows. From behind, I gripped the man’s chin, tipping it up, and held the celestial steel against his throat. It was then I noticed the silvery tattooed band which identified him as Dojra. A slave.

“Whatever you want, friend, it’s yours.” His voice shook out the words and his throat bobbed with a hard gulp, wobbling the band.

“I’m no friend of yours.”

“Van Croix,” he whispered.

“You remember my name. How sweet.”

“Yes, of course.”

“How?”

“Upon my untimely death, I was sent to the Infernal Lands where I was made Dojra by a rather … unreasonable demon named Ahsrik. My punishment consisted of keeping all of my memories. Even those endearing final moments of my time on earth.” His eye flinched, as if he could still feel the agony of my blade cutting into his flesh.

From what I knew, humans with the blackest souls ended up in the Infernal Lands where they were branded as Dojra to the higher-ranking demons there, fulfilling all of their most sadistic desires. Had Barchiel tried to remove the band at his throat, or failed to return to his master when summoned, the tattoo would sink beneath his flesh and move like a snake inside his body, consuming him from the inside out. One of the more painful deaths, so I’d heard.

“But I hold no ill thoughts toward you,” he added.

I released him and, allowing the man to turn around, directed him to sit on the bed. “Why have you not made yourself known to me?”

“I’ve no reason to seek revenge. In fact, I should thank you. Through you, I have found everlasting life.” He held out his hands and offered a smile that drew my attention to his lips still quivering. “The earthly realm was only ever a temporary state.”

“Yet, you still believe you are chosen by God?”

“There are many souls here. I’ve long given up the notion that every one of them is worthy of His grace. So do not be troubled. I’ve no more intentions here.”

“I wasn’t troubled. I am no longer the boy so easily manipulated. I could send you to Ex Nihilo as easily as the Infernal Lands.”