Bitten in Two

I could only see her profile in the silence that fol owed, but it was enough to show the frustrated color that had risen in her cheeks. Even though Astral picked up minute sounds, I had to lean forward to hear her whisper, “You have to know I would never wil ingly hurt you.” His laugh was so sharp it should’ve drawn blood.

“You’re a demon. That’s who you are.”

She stepped toward him. Her eyes were wide, intense on his as she said, “It’s not who I want to be. Not when I’m with you.”

She reached forward. Pressed her hands against his chest. “You confuse me. You enrage me. But I’m tired of pretending that you’re nothing but meat to me. I’l do anything. I’l be anyone you like. If you only kiss me again.” Anticipation curled the corners of my mouth. And now for the final cut.

I nearly gasped out loud when he pul ed her into his arms. Their lips met in a kiss so fiery I was surprised their clothes didn’t melt off. When Cole grabbed her by the hips and her legs wrapped around his back I tore off the fake lashes, Astral’s cue to get the hel out.

She joined me on the steps, sitting beside me while I tried to think what to do next. Thump from the lounge as the couch rammed back into the wal . That did it. My buddy, one of the most cheerful, hilarious dudes I’d ever met, was screwing an unrepentant demon. No good could come of it, especial y for him. As soon as Kyphas became expendable I was going to kil her.

CHAPTER SEVEN

So much for cake. I gripped Vayl’s cane tight and sped up to my room, Astral a rocketing shadow at my heels. The run did me good. By the time I col apsed on my gigantic bed with the cat curled up beside me I could think again. As I stroked her smooth head I decided to have a real face-to-face with Raoul. Fighting demons was his gig after al . If anybody could help me take Kyphas down, it would be him.

And in the meantime?

I had to think of some stel ar babe to fix Cole up with.

But I didn’t real y know any nice girls besides Evie. Hey!

That was it! She had a lot of friends who spent their whole lives in Normalvil e. She could easily find Cole a fabulous woman. Somebody who wouldn’t flip out if he traveled some. A woman who liked guys with sun-bleached hair and…

I didn’t realize I’d nodded off until I heard a tapping at my window. I sat up in bed, pul ing Grief from its holster before my feet hit the floor. Again the taps, four or five, hitting almost, but not quite, at the same time. The window was the one that faced the street.

“What is it, Astral?” I whispered.

The cat didn’t reply, just hopped off the bed and went to the curtains, where she waited patiently for me to pul them open. I stood by the wal . Peering between the material and the glass, I could see down to the street, where a man wearing a gray button-down shirt and white pants stood, his hand ful of pebbles, his upturned face clear in the streetlights.

“Oh, for chrissake!” I flipped the curtains aside and lifted the window. “Aren’t you the guy I kicked the crap out of before?”

He smiled and slapped himself on the chest. “Yousef!” he announced happily.

“How did you find me?”

He glanced over his shoulder and his young translator slunk guiltily out of the shadows. After a brief conference the teenager said, “Yousef says it is not difficult to place you, as you may be the only red- haired woman in Marrakech.”

Dammit! Why didn’t I dye my hair before we came here? “What do you want?” I demanded. I checked the watch Bergman had made me, wishing it shot lightning bolts or laser beams. Holy crap! “And why are you here at four thirty in the morning?”

“We are on our way to work, lady,” said the boy.

“Where do you work?” I asked.

“In the tannery.”

That explained the stench on the men and in the part of the medina where we’d been fol owing Vayl the night before. Transforming animal skins into supple leathers was a laborious and revolting job, but I wouldn’t look down my nose at these guys for the work they’d chosen. At least they were trying to make an honest buck.

I said, “Isn’t this out of your way?”

Another discussion between Yousef and the boy. What was his name? Oh yeah, Kamal. He wiped his hand across his lips, clearly wishing he didn’t have to say, “Yousef would like you to know that he is fal ing”—he made a diving motion with his hands—“into the love with you. And you would do wel to marry him before you leave the country.” I felt my jaw drop. “Are you insane?” I slashed my hand at Kamal before he could translate, stomped back to my weapons bag, grabbed my silencer, and screwed it onto Grief’s barrel. Just as I got back to the window a handful of pebbles flew through.

Shit!

I dodged aside, waited a beat to make sure Yousef wasn’t launching a second handful, then whipped my Walther PPK into position.

Kamal squealed as soon as he saw the gun clear the windowsil . He dove into the bushes that belonged to the two-story house across the street. Yousef, on the other hand, spread his arms like we were about to do big reunion hugs. He started speaking rapid Arabic, shaking his head back and forth to emphasize his words and closing his eyes blissful y as he talked.

“Kamal! Tel your buddy to go away!”

Kamal translated. When it was time for him to relay Yousef’s message to me he was nearly