Chapter 2
Chapter two
Archer
The lights of Styx a strip club and brothel staffed entirely by sex demons and other lesser hell-folk.
She used sex and desire like an artist used a paintbrush; masterfully.
“And with a house full of incubi tonight, I’m not taking any chances. ”
“Someone giving you trouble?” I asked, my shadows starting to creep out as they sought to read the room.
Meandering between the tables and over the stage, they flowed, seeking out anything that didn’t belong.
I closed my eyes, allowing their senses to become mine, but I didn’t feel any ill intent, only a shit-load of lust.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” Alecto replied indignantly, and I opened my eyes to see her drumming her fingernails against her arms impatiently.
“Everyone knows better than to cause trouble in my house.” She paused, considering.
“But maybe keep your ears open, yeah? There’s trouble on the wind these days, and no one’s resting easy.
My sisters are reporting restlessness wherever they go, and even the lowest demons can feel the ripples of change. ”
“Secrets upon secrets,” Vine muttered, his gaze still on the dancer. I stared at him, draining the last of my drink as I considered his words.
We’d come across two more witches in the week since we’d dispatched Hestor, both of them in the midst of attempting to perform summonings, and both of them bound by a powerful spell.
I’d managed to find some restraint with the second, keeping her alive far longer than the previous two, but while she’d offered up plenty of screams, she’d given me no answers.
It was a puzzle I was becoming increasingly frustrated with.
“I’d appreciate if you kept me informed, Alecto,” I said, opening a Rip and reaching inside.
The small tear in space and time—a hole in the fabric of our reality—opened at my command and was where I stored my most important possessions.
Rifling through, I reached beneath my bow and quiver, setting them carefully aside, then withdrew the item I was after: a perfectly polished ruby.
About the size of a quail’s egg and as red as virgin blood, the ruby shimmered in the dim light of the club.
Letting my Rip close, I held it out to Alecto in offering.
“Consider it a personal favor to me. You are the eyes and ears of Pittsburgh. If anyone can discover information about what’s happening, it’s you. ”
Alecto eyed the gem, lips parted and eyes wide with anticipation as she reached for it.
“Anything for The Archer.” Ignoring the mild undertone of sarcasm, I dropped the ruby into her palm, smirking as she tucked it securely between her breasts, likely dropping it into a Rip of her own.
Offering a small nod of her head, Alecto fled our table, and I watched her go, my gaze following as her hips swayed enticingly with each step.
“Don’t even think about it,” Corson said, his hulking form appearing beside me and dropping heavily onto the sofa. “Last time you and Alecto decided to fuck, we didn’t see you for eleven days.”
“What did you even do for eleven days?” Vine asked, actually looking at me since the dancer had moved on to the other end of the stage.
“If you don’t know already, you’re too young.”
“What?” Vine gaped at me, and I laughed. “I’m practically the same age as you.”
“Practically is not exactly.”
“Besides,” Corson added, reaching for the decanter and pouring himself another whiskey before topping mine off again.
“If you recall the state of his back when he finally surfaced again, I’m not sure we want to know.
Alecto is scary at the best of times. I can’t imagine what she was like in bed if she left claw marks like that on your flesh. ”
“They healed,” I said with a shrug.
They had healed, but they had taken a fuck of a long time.
It had been worth it, though.
“But I still don’t understand—”
“Focus, please, Vine.” Pouting, Vine sat back, his knife balanced on the end of his finger and rotating slowly. “Mal will be back any time now, and you know how cranky he is when he’s been flying.”
“Ugh. Mal.” Vine groaned, rolling his eyes as he flopped back in his chair, his golden hair glowing under the flashing lights as another dancer took to the stage. Turning his head to stare at her, Vine muttered, “He’s such a downer.”
“Good thing I don’t live to please you then, Vine.”
Malphus’s deep, gravelly voice rolled across the room, and Vine practically leapt out of his chair.
“What the fuck, Mal?” he cried, pressing one hand to his chest as he heaved in rapid breaths. “I told you not to sneak up on me like that. You know I hate it when you’re all creepy and shit.”
Mal only grinned in response, his wickedly sharp fangs on display.
“What news?” I cut in, wanting to keep on task. Mal had been gone for over two weeks, scouring the skies in his raven form, looking for any signs that might lead us to the source of all these disruptions.
I didn’t like disruptions. They pissed me off.
“The church has been ransacked.”
“Which one?” I asked, leaning forward.
“The only one that matters.”
“Fuck,” Corson muttered, and all signs of frivolity dropped from Vine’s face.
“You’re certain?” If it was true, then things were even more dire than I had anticipated. “You need to be sure, Mal.”
“I’m fucking certain.” Reaching into his pocket, Mal pulled out his phone, tossing it onto the table before us. “The priest is dead.”
Staring at the phone screen in shock, I could see it was displaying a news article, the headline screaming at me in black and white.
Beloved Priest murdered at Trinity Church. Suspect at large.
“Son of a bitch.”
Corson’s words seemed both an apt summary and woefully inadequate at the same time.
“How could this happen, Archer?” Vine asked me, his brow wrinkled in confusion. “I thought Father Phips was immortal.”
So had I.
Father William Phips had been instrumental in putting an end to the Salem witch trials, and had been standing guard over Trinity Church ever since. Over three hundred years as a member of the Umbra Fratrum, he was more than a brother—he was my friend.
News of his death was fucking painful.
“He was human once,” I offered, pushing down the rage Mal’s information had stirred withing me. “I guess whatever immortality the Dark Lord had offered him for his service was not as complete as we had assumed.”
That, or the fact that the Dark Lord was currently missing meant that his protection was weakening, leaving those under his care vulnerable.
It was a theory, but one I planned to keep to myself for the time being.
“Whatever he might have been, he’s dead now.” Mal frowned. “Like, really fucking dead.” Looking to me, he added, “They cut out his heart, Archer.”
“No way,” Vine breathed, his knife still for the first time all evening. “Archer, do you think—”
“I think we should definitely talk about it,” came a voice I hadn’t heard in far too long. “But not here.”
Turning, I couldn’t help the relief I felt as I laid eyes on one of my oldest friends, his presence like a balm to my frayed nerves.
I was fucking glad to see him, but that didn’t stop me from also being pissed as fuck, too.
“And where the hell have you been, Asmodeus?”