Chapter 2
Chapter Two
GABE
If someone had asked me what my plans were for the day, negotiating with a higher demon wouldn’t have been anywhere on the list. In fact, it’s never been on the list, and was never going to be, ever, not for the rest of my life.
I’m a gatekeeper, for god’s sake, not a hunter.
The only time I’m supposed to encounter demons is when they’re trying to force their way through my gateway, and if they’re doing that, we’re not likely to sit down for tea and a chat.
On top of that, my hobbies include history, cooking, and DIY home renovations.
I’m the last person who should be put in charge of working out the terms of an alliance with a group of demons who could annihilate us before breakfast and follow up with a full day of murdering and pillaging.
They hold all the cards here… I think. The fact that this demon—Marc—even wants to talk to us must mean there’s something we can contribute.
Hopefully he’s not just softening us up for a snack.
Even thinking of a demon as a he instead of an it is weird. Until recently, we didn’t know that they assigned themselves genders. There’s so much we’re in the dark about, and they’re so much more powerful than us. I’m in over my head.
But the only other person here even remotely qualified to lead the negotiations is Connor, and he’s too angry right now.
Con’s my brother in all but blood, but there’s no way in hell I’d let him handle this feeling the way he does.
Not that I blame him… I was there for the aftermath that day, when this demon nearly killed him and Ian.
I get it. But on top of this being the chance to save humanity that we’ve been desperately searching for, it might also be our chance to find out what happened back then—why Marc didn’t kill them.
Because none of us believe that Ian hitting him with a bunch of fake flowers scared him off.
Kieran, Connor’s boyfriend and the boss of this place I now call home, leads the way into the library.
I can tell he’s not thrilled that we’ve invited a demon into the house, but it’s not like we could have kept him out if he decided he wanted in.
Anyway, there aren’t any guests tonight, just us and the ghosts.
Who are also very unhappy.
Marc, proving that demons are dickheads, seats himself in the middle of the Chesterfield and spreads his arms along the back. That leaves the rest of us to find places to sit on the smaller sofas and armchairs… and the floor.
Not me, though. Marc’s power move was to make himself comfortable on the biggest piece of furniture in the room. Mine is to stay standing.
Also, I’m too nervous to sit.
The ghosts are clustered together by the door, glaring at Marc—including Tom’s grandmother. I still don’t know her name. Considering that the first time I met her she called me the spawn of the devil and a bunch of other not-nice things, I figure I get a pass on that.
I glance around until I find Tom. He’s sitting next to Skye on the floor, Daniel hovering protectively in the armchair behind them.
Daniel and Skye are both watching Marc warily, but Tom—who must have enough questions to fill a novel—is looking at his grandmother.
The only time he can see or hear her is when they come out here to the estate, where the strong energy allows the ghosts to manifest. I don’t have any ghost relatives—when your family has been part of a demon-hunting organization for fifty generations, you learn that it’s better to let go of this life and look forward to your reincarnation—but if I did and I was like Tom, without the power to speak to them whenever I could, I’d be spending every second of my free time here.
He must sense my attention, because he looks right at me. His face is a little pale even with his olive skin, but his brown eyes are clear and steady. He’s in this with us. Probably because he doesn’t know yet what the hell it’s all about.
With a tiny nod, I turn to face Marc. I’m not surprised to find his eyes on me. He’ll have been watching me and all of us this whole time we’ve been getting settled.
“You wanted to talk to us. So… talk,” I invite. I sound a lot more confident than I feel, and not at all like I’m trying to buy time to come up with a plan. I glance over at Connor, squeezed into a chair with Kieran, and he pointedly glances at his lap. Where his phone is in his hand.
Please let that mean he’s in contact with someone at the Collective.
“Wist said they told you about Cato’s plans,” Marc begins, and I nod.
“Sure, but we’d like to hear it from you now.”
His sardonic smile tells me he’s onto me, but I don’t care. I want him talking so I can think. And maybe he’ll tell us something we don’t already know.
“Cato is the higher demon who currently holds power in our world. His focus is primarily on his own perverted pleasures, so he leaves those of us with power of our own alone, for the most part. Those who have no power, however, are at the mercy of his whims.”
“And his whims have no mercy?”
“None,” Marc confirms. “That’s not really my business, though.”
“It’s not your business that he’s torturing and murdering?” Josh demands hotly. He’s been surprisingly quiet, but I guess there’s been a lot to take in.
Marc lifts his shoulders in a halfhearted shrug. “Why would it be? I don’t know them.”
Josh opens his mouth to retort, but I catch his eye, and he closes it again. I get it—that kind of attitude is abhorrent—but we have other priorities right now. And if all this goes as we hope, it will end with Cato dead and his victims at least partly avenged.
“If it’s not your business what he does, why intervene now?” I ask.
“Wist told you this. Cato isn’t content with wreaking his havoc in our world.
He’s had a toe here on Earth for a long time, stirring up trouble, fanning flames.
He was directly influencing the instigators of many of your more recent wars.
With things on the brink of chaos again, he plans to bring down the barrier between our worlds and make himself overlord of both. ”
Well, that all matches up with what we knew, some of which the Collective told us. “And you’re opposed to this plan? That doesn’t seem like you. Got a soft spot for humans?” I can’t resist making the jibe.
He smirks. “You soft little humans have never mattered to me. I rarely even come to Earth. Why would I? Most of you are as boring as dirt.” Shaking his head, he continues, “We oppose the plan because it would upset the ecosystem of our world and kill even more species, many of which are already displeased with Cato. And once he has finished destroying more of those who might oppose him, his attention will turn to us. Do you think he would be content to leave us be, knowing we dislike him and everything he stands for?”
“So this is a preemptive strike.” Knowing that actually makes me feel better about him. “And what do you think we can do?”
“You’re a gatekeeper, aren’t you?” He lifts one arm from the back of the couch and rolls his wrist in a dismissive gesture. “Cato’s plan is to weaken the barrier between worlds by opening too many gateways at once. Isn’t your job to close such gateways?”
I stare at him. He can’t be serious. He has to know… “If it were so simple, there would be no open gateways,” I reply, choosing my words carefully. “You would be unable to come here.” We guard the gateways we can’t close, but it’s a complicated and sometimes difficult process.
“How did you get here?” Connor asks. He sounds a lot calmer than before. That might have something to do with Kieran being pressed up against him.
“There was an unguarded gateway in Chicago,” Marc says airily. “A few decades back, when we realized what Cato was up to. I came through it and made some connections.”
A sick feeling crawls up my throat. “Made connections” is demon speak for finding someone willing to exchange part of their soul energy for power.
When that person eventually dies, the connection allows the demon to come to Earth without needing to be summoned or to find an unguarded gateway.
Higher demons like Marc don’t have to wait until the person dies—once the connection has been made, they can come and go as they please.
Pushing that aside, I say, “So you’ve known for years what he’s doing?”
He looks me in the eye. “Yes. And I’ve spent years traveling back and forth, trying to find people who could help us take him down.”
“Like the Collective?” Connor challenges. “Which you knew about ten years ago when you broke into my home at the compound and tried to kill me.”
“You attacked first,” Marc reminds him. Which… weird.
“Would you not have attacked if he hadn’t?” I ask.
He purses his lips, then sighs. “No, I would have killed him. I had to. If I’d just left, and he’d—” He breaks off and addresses Connor directly. “If you’d gone to your associates and told them a higher demon was in your house and just left, suspicions would have been raised.”
Every hair on my body stands on end. “Suspicions?” It comes out as a hoarse whisper, and I clear my throat. “What suspicions?”
He says nothing.
My heart starts to beat faster, and I turn to look at Connor. He’s thinking the same thing as me; I can tell from the shell-shocked look on his face. “Tell me again,” I prompt.
He sucks in air. “I’d been at the gym,” he says slowly, “sparring with Jill. I was tired, thinking about a shower, then calling to see if you and Matt wanted to eat with me and Ian. Then I wondered where Ian even was right then and if not knowing made me a bad stand-in parent.”
“Probably not, since odds were on his being with Matt.” Our brothers are just as inseparable as we were. Other people might think it’s odd, but I just think of us as all being brothers.
“I went into the house, put my keys on the front table, and I was already in the living room before I realized someone was there. I-I hadn’t sensed him at all.”
He stops to glance toward Marc. It’s so fucking awkward doing this in front of him—and everyone—but there’s no way I’d be willing to leave Marc alone while we went to talk elsewhere. Until I work out what the fuck our next steps are, I’m not letting him out of my sight.
“I saw him, knew immediately what he was. For a second we were just staring at each other. And then I realized if I didn’t act, I’d be dead. So I attacked.” He grimaces. “I definitely attacked first. I even remember wondering why it—he—hesitated. I thought maybe I’d surprised him.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, wondering why we never put these pieces together back then. We were so sure a higher demon could only have been there to kill and wreak havoc… Looking at Marc, I ask, “Why were you in Connor’s house that day?”
“I was searching it.”
That’s not what I was expecting. “Searching it? Why?”
“I searched every house in that compound.”
My skin crawls. He was in my home? “Why?” Dammit, I know the answer. I just need him to say it.
He shrugs. “I needed to know who was conspiring with Cato.”