Chapter Five #2

“No,” Razr said, the odd note in his voice making Jedda

suspect he knew something pertinent to this conversation. “It’s just that Satan

hasn’t been seen in a while.”

Shrike tapped his long fingers on the desktop. “So you believe the rumors that he’s been usurped?”

Usurped? Jedda hadn’t heard that. But then, she’d never, not

in her hundred and forty years of life, been interested in the politics of the

Heavenly, human, or demonic realms unless they affected her directly. Heck, she

was barely interested in her own species’ politics.

At Razr’s casual shrug, she sighed. “Look, I don’t know what

you want me to do about this. You’d be better off hiring someone who locates

antiquities. I’m a gemologist. I specialize in finding gems that are still

rough in the earth or that have been enhanced with supernatural abilities.”

“Don’t toy with me, sweetheart. I know you deal in all gems. And the devil’s horn is one of the most

precious.”

Shit. How could she get out of this without revealing the

truth—that certain types of crystal were beyond her ability to sense? Not only

that, but quartz crystal, like that associated with the skulls and the horns,

might as well be her kryptonite? She’d learned that in the most embarrassing

way imaginable.

“Mr. Shrike, only two horns are believed to exist. I’m not

sure I can find either one of them.” She cleared her throat. “And I’m certain

that I won’t find them if you call me sweetheart again.”

He laughed, but she’d expected no less. “I have faith in

you. But I’m not finished.” He braced his forearms on the desk and leaned

forward. “There’s something else I want.”

Of course there was.

“Have you heard of the Gems of Enoch?”

Her heart stopped. Just...stopped. Her chest tightened, her

breath burned, and her stomach dropped to her feet. Beneath her skin, she felt

her panic response rise up,

and she had to force herself to calm the hell down.

And was it her imagination or did she see Razr tense up out

of the corner of her eye? Had to be her imagination.

Unless he sensed the sudden, cold terror inside her?

She hid her anxiety behind a forced laugh. “Mr. Shrike.

Surely you don’t believe that silly legend.”

“It’s no legend.” Shrike’s brows slammed down in annoyance.

“Three gemstones made of angel blood, Grace, and tears. Each was rumored to

possess different powers, and each was placed in an angel’s care. These

gemstones, when activated together, formed powerful magic. But around a century

ago, three extraordinarily powerful demons defeated the angels and stole the

gems.”

He was right about the stones, but he’d gotten

the story wrong. Very wrong.

“I’m sorry,” she

said, “but I’m not wasting my time on a silly goose chase.”

“It’s true,” Razr chimed in, not helping her at all. “At

least, the existence of the stones is reality.” He wandered around the library,

his gaze seeming to take in everything at once, and Jedda got the feeling he

was committing every tome and every artifact on display to memory. “Shrike

fucked up the story though.”

“Really.” Shrike glared. “Maybe you could tell me where I

went wrong and how you know this?”

“The exploits of the angels who used the gems in battle are

well-recorded in Heaven’s Akashic Library, and I like to read.” Razr ran his

hand over a pile of books on the table near the window. “According to several

accounts, demons didn’t defeat the angels. Demons murdered the humans who were

the custodians of the gems.”

Well, that was a little closer to the truth, she supposed.

But only one human had been killed, and the guilt weighed on her like a two-ton

boulder.

Shrike gave a skeptical snort. “Why would angels need human

custodians?”

“Because the power contained in the stones needs a conduit.”

Jedda immediately cursed her loose lips. “At least, that’s according to the

legends,” she added quickly.

Storm clouds gathered in Shrike’s eyes and his fingernails

dug into the desktop. “It appears that my source hasn’t been entirely

forthcoming with information,” he ground out, and man, she wouldn’t want to be

that source. Then, just as quickly as the storm came in, it passed, and Shrike

looked between Razr and Jedda. “If humans hold the gemstones, how do the angels

draw on the power?”

“I don’t know,” Razr replied as he flipped through a book

about carnivorous vegetation in the demon realm. “I didn’t get that far in my

reading.”

Jedda knew the answer to Shrike’s question, but she didn’t

feel like sharing. Hell, she didn’t feel like remembering that the

angels wore special jewelry made from their corresponding gemstone. The angel

who had murdered Jedda’s sister, Manda, had worn an amethyst charm around his

neck that matched the stone Manda possessed.

“This,” Ebel said as he rubbed his finger across his

necklace’s pendant, “allows me to tap into the power of the gem I know is in

your possession.”

He looked at Jedda, Manda, and Reina in turn, his icy

gaze sending a tingle of dread skittering up Jedda’s spine. He’d caught them in

the house they’d shared, a sprawling seventeenth century French manor that had

belonged to their deceased parents.

“Where is it? Where are all three of them?” He moved

toward Manda as she cowered in the corner, his booted foot coming down in the

puddles of blood and gems spilled all over the floor. “I sense mine. You reek

of it. I want it back.”

“She can’t give it to you!” Reina screamed. “It’s

impossible.”

He grinned, and around his neck, the amethyst charm

glowed. Suddenly, his hand flew out, and a gash, larger than the others he’d

inflicted, split Manda’s skin from her shoulder to her elbow. She shrieked in

pain as blood streamed down her arm and pooled on the floor. Gems formed in the

blood, some no larger than a karat in size, while

others, like the duck-egg sized enchanted lapis they’d stolen from a vampire a

couple of decades before were more impressive.

Which was bad. The larger the stones that formed outside

her body, the more damage was being done to the inside of her body.

“Do you want to understand the full power of the gems?”

he asked silkily, and no, Jedda really did not. She and her sisters had each

claimed a stone and absorbed its considerable energy. That energy had given

them abilities they hadn’t possessed before, but they’d been aware that the

power of the gems wouldn’t be fully unlocked without their mates, and now it

looked like they were going to find out how powerful those things were.

Screams blasted through Jedda’s brain, screams that belonged

to her sisters, herself...no, wait...

She blinked, realizing she’d been lost in the past, when

right here in the present people were screaming from beyond the door. Shrike

was grinning.

“More sacrifices,” he purred, the ecstasy in his voice

almost as disturbing as what was happening in the other room. “Lothar is

demanding. And with every scream, his will is seeping into you.”

Horror left her struggling to breathe. “What...what do you

mean?”

“I mean that every day that passes without you bringing me

what I desire, more and more misery will wrack your

body and life. Don’t worry, it won’t kill you. But before the month is out,

you’ll wish it would.”

Razr tossed the book onto the pile on the table and spun

around.

“You sick fuck.” He twisted the ring on his finger as if

trying to find something to do with his hands that wouldn’t involve strangling

the bastard sitting across from them.

Jedda voted for the strangling.

Shrike’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead. “You’re a fallen

fucking angel.” He sneered. “An Unfallen, I suspect, but you still fucked up

enough to get kicked out of Heaven. So don’t tell me you’ve never killed

anyone.”

Razr’s voice went low and ominous, and the hair on Jedda’s

neck stood up. “As an angel I killed thousands of fiends like you. Some of them

even deserved it.”

“So will Jedda,” Shrike said, “if she doesn’t bring me what

I want.” He speared her with a look that promised agony on a grand scale. “And

you will update me daily on your progress, or I’ll send my men to deal with

you.”

Son of a bitch. This was why she was in business

for herself. Why she refused to work for anyone except

on her own terms. She didn’t like being controlled or tied to anyone, and what

Shrike was doing both tied her to him and controlled her choices for the next

month, at the very least.

Fury scorched her throat with every word. “So you brought me here under false pretenses in order to

force me to do your bidding?”

“This wasn’t entirely a ruse.” Shrike steepled his hands on

his desk, his countenance so laid back that she got the impression he fucked

people over a lot. And got off on it. “I do sponsor a legitimate annual sorcery

conference. You can Google it.”

She had, which was why she’d felt comfortable attending.

“I’m so going to destroy you on Yelp,” she snapped.

Razr laughed, but it abruptly cut off as he glanced down at

the back of his hand, where the raised outline of what looked like a wing was

glowing with an eerie crimson light. Had it been there earlier? She didn’t

think so.

“Well, well,” Shrike murmured. “An Azdai

glyph.”

Razr’s gaze snapped up to meet Shrike’s. “What do you know

about Azdai glyphs?”

“I know more than I should.” Shrike’s expression softened,

even as his voice grew bitter, leaving Jedda more confused than ever.

“I need to go.” Razr made a “come with” gesture to Jedda and

started toward the exit, but Shrike shook his head and the clank of a heavy

lock sliding into place rattled the door.

“We aren’t finished here.”

Razr wheeled around with a hiss. “If you know anything about

Azdai glyphs, you know I have to.”

“I know you need someone to deliver your punishment.” Shrike

came smoothly to his feet. “I’ll do the honors.” He held out his hand. “I owe

you for the right hook and the cracked skull.”

“Go to hell.”

“Once again, I’ll point out that you have no choice. This

castle is on lockdown and I just decided to keep it

that way until you agree.”

“What’s going on?” Jedda demanded. “I don’t understand any

of this.”

Razr explained, but his gaze remained locked with Shrike’s,

a battle of wills that she had a feeling wasn’t going to end well.

“Azdai was an angel before humans

even knew what angels were. Before the rebellion that got Satan thrown out of

Heaven.” Razr sucked air between his teeth as if he was in pain, but Jedda had

no idea what could be hurting him. “Azdai hurt humans

in the way human children sometimes pull the wings off flies. He was curious

and cruel, and he had to be punished. Fallen angels didn’t exist yet, so Heaven

came up with this glyph and the punishment that goes with it.” He held up his

hand, where the feather-shaped glyph burned bright crimson, so angry she

flinched. “When it lights up, it means that it’s time to experience punishment.

If the punishment doesn’t take place immediately, we suffer until some asshole

angel shows up to inflict the punishment tenfold.” He reached into his jacket

pocket and pulled out the most beautiful ivory-handled cat-o’-nine

tails she’d ever seen. Even the little bone spurs on the ends of the leather

strands had been polished to gleaming perfection. “And inflicting the

punishment on ourselves doesn’t count.” He unfolded the compact handle and

locked it into place, and then he passed the torture device to Shrike. Jedda’s

stomach turned over at the realization that the cat was about to be used. “We

earn extra credit when the punisher is merciless.”

“Extra credit?” she asked, feeling utterly sick.

“We can go longer between beatings.”

She put her hand over her belly, but it didn’t quell the

nausea. “That’s...barbaric.”

“You’ll get no argument from me,” Razr said as he removed

his jacket and shirt. As she suspected, he was as fit as an athlete, his

well-muscled broad chest tapering to a narrow waist and abs

she’d bet would make diamonds seem soft in comparison.

“Wait.” She leaped to her feet and tried to reason with

Shrike. “Don’t do this,” she pleaded. “I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll do my

best to find the items you want—”

“You’re already going to do that,” Shrike said.

She looked over at Razr, who was now removing the various

weapons strapped around his hips and looking at her like she was crazy for

wanting to help him. She kind of felt that way, she supposed. This was none of

her business. Heck, she didn’t know why he was even in the office in the first

place except that, oh, right, he’d tried to save her from the Dinner Party From Hell and had gotten caught up in the trap Shrike had

set for her. So, yeah, this was all her fault, and she didn’t want to see Razr

hurt.

“What can I do?”

Razr flung his clothes and half a dozen blades onto a chair.

“You can make sure this asshole doesn’t fuck with me when I pass out.”

With that, he reached out and grabbed the wall.

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