refuge next to Cassandra.
“Bergman!” snapped Vayl.
At the same time I said, “What the hell?”
And Bergman held out both hands like he’d just introduced us to his favorite new girlfriend. “See?” The black blob in Vayl’s lap wiggled over his thigh onto the seat between us. She slithered up to the headrest before quietly re-forming. The only extra noises she made were a series of clicks when her claws emerged, evidently as part of a test cycle, because they pulled back into her paws shortly afterward.
“That’s freaking cool,” I breathed. Bergman smiled.
“How is she powered?” asked Vayl.
He shrugged, back to his old share-no-secrets self. “No need to worry about that for another five years anyway,” he assured us.
I watched her lick the dog spit off her back. “Where does the waste go that she collects along the way?” I asked.
“I’ve designed an outlet. The capsule looks a lot like cat poop, so when she needs to release one, there’s never a problem. She just goes into the bathroom—”
Vayl raised an eyebrow. “The cat is toilet trained?”
“I thought that would be easiest. So you don’t have to deal with litter boxes when you’re traveling.” I sat back, eyeing my dog. His eyes were half closed, his tongue drooped in ecstasy under Cassandra’s head-scratchings. So watching his new friend turn to goo hadn’t traumatized him. I wondered what he’d do if she exploded.
I said, “Bergman, you’re a genius.”
CHAPTERTWENTY
Vayl sat in a child’s chair beside Kyphas’s bed. You’ve gotta be some kinda stud to pull that off without looking ridiculous. He managed easily. The rest of us stood in a semicircle behind him. Except for the animals. I didn’t want Jack near the soul stealer, and since the fence had weathered the blast after all, I’d let him loose in the backyard. Astral, who’d become way too unpredictable to take part in the delicate task at hand, was zoning out to some old Doors tunes in Bergman’s room.
Vayl didn’t lean in to make it easier for Kyphas to see him, and since she was lying on her stomach she had to strain if she wanted to meet his eyes. Which was astonishingly often for a demon whose back half looked like it had been mauled by a starving bear.
Vayl said, “You have heard of the Rocenz.”
“Not at all,” Kyphas said, her answer slightly muffled by her pillow.
“We left you alive for a reason. Perhaps you would like to cooperate long enough to hear it?” She sighed. “So what if I have?”
“It is lost. It is demon made.”
“And?”
“That means the most likely creature to find it again will be a demon.”
“I don’t see how this benefits me.”
“If you help us find the Rocenz and use it to carve King Brude’s name on the gates of hell, you may have his soul in place of Cassandra’s.” As she began to laugh, and then cough, he raised his hand. She stopped immediately. “He is Lucifer’s Domytr
“Politicians are Antyrfee’s territory.” Did she sound envious? Why not? Antyrfee must be rolling in souls.
“But you would have the inside track,” Vayl said. “We
Kyphas looked up at Vayl, though the pain caused her to wince. “Antyrfee’s never turned that many around so fast.” She paused. “What do you have against these three?”
“They tried to suspend Jasmine after our last mission. Friends of mine talked them out of that decision”—by that he meant that his old Trust buddies Admes and Niall had dangled the Oversight Committee members from their roofs by their heels—“but politicians ooze more slime than slugs. I expect them to wriggle out of the deal sooner rather than later. I have researched this particular group. They possess no redeeming qualities. They are exactly your type. And think what status their souls would gain you among your peers.”
“You’d be popular,” said Cole.
“I’d settle for accepted. Do you know how long…
“It is a four-for-one offer with us aiding you. What do you say?” She sighed. Went quiet for so long I thought she’d nodded off. “I’ll draw up a contract,” she finally mumbled.
Vayl reached over his shoulder to Raoul, who handed him a scrolled sheet of ivory paper. “We already have.”
In our business you learn to appreciate the lulls. Now that we had Kyphas under contract we didn’t need to worry about demon ambushes anymore. It should’ve been a somewhat relaxing time, waiting for Ruvin and Cassandra to return while we watched the clock tick off the minutes until we had to leave for the next phase of our original assignment.
Bergman had finally scrubbed himself to a shade of pink that satisfied his sense of outrage. He’d retreated to the room across from Kyphas’s that he was sharing with Cole, closing the door so firmly we got the message as if he’d yelled it.
Cole and Raoul took turns showering and guarding Cassandra’s demon while Vayl and I sat in the dining room, tending each other’s wounds. Mine needed stitches. Vayl’s would’ve put me in intensive care. But by the time I’d cleaned all the blood off only two of the deepest needed bandages.
