I tried to shrug it off, but a new, piercing pain forced me to grimace instead. I felt Vayl’s arm slide around my waist as I said, “It’s intense when it comes, which is about every other day now.”
“How long does it last?”
“A few hours. Usual y I can sleep it off.”
“And the nosebleeds?”
I wadded the gauze up in my fist, as if to make it disappear would prevent me from having to answer the question. But when I looked up at my Spirit Guide, he stared steadily into my eyes, waiting, demanding a reply. “Smal ones every twelve hours or so. Big ones every thirty-six.” We both knew it meant my time had wound down from weeks to days. If I didn’t destroy Brude soon, not even Raoul could save me.
I didn’t like his frown. It looked a little too… sympathetic. “I’l be fine. Just find us a way in that won’t get us shredded before we’re even halfway there.”
He held up his hands. “Al the citizens of hel know you have the Rocenz. When Vayl jumped through the plane portal and cut it from the demoness’s grip, he made what you would cal ‘big news’
in the netherworld.” He didn’t add that Vayl had been forced to literal y chop Kyphas’s hands off to retrieve the tool that would save my life. The grisly memory stil woke me up some nights just short of a scream. Raoul went on. “Hel wants it back.”
“Of course it does!” I hissed. “It only turns people into fucking demons!” His eyes narrowed, reminding me to watch my mouth and my temper. Now was no time to lose it, not when actual parts of me were unraveling. I took a breath, tucking in the part of me that stil raged at the memory of Cole, his eyes flashing red, fighting the change as Kyphas carved his name into her heartstone with the Rocenz.
If only she hadn’t clapped the hammer and chisel back into a single fused tool before Vayl set off that grenade. That was the big black raincloud neither Raoul nor Vayl nor I wanted to admit we stood under. Even if Raoul’s scouts found us an unguarded path to one of the gates, we stil didn’t know how to separate the two parts of the Rocenz. Until we did we couldn’t carve Brude’s name on those gates. And it had to be stricken into that blasted metal, because with each blow of the hammer onto the chisel, the magic of the Rocenz, imbued by Torledge, the Demon Lord of Lessening, would reduce Brude to his essence. When we were done with the son of a bitch he would be taken down to the dust from which he’d come. And then, maybe… wel , I hadn’t said anything to Vayl yet. But we’d done some research and figured out that the Rocenz could also separate Roldan, Vayl’s worst enemy, from the gorgon who kept him alive. Split those two, they die, and then you have some sweet revenge on the Were who kil ed our boss, Pete. But I had to survive first.
I took a breath. “So how much time do you figure I have left?” He hesitated, his eyes darting to Vayl before they came back to me. “You’re strong. Anyone else would have surrendered by now. As it is, I’d guess you have four, maybe five days left. Seven at the most.”
I nodded. Crept my hand around Vayl’s arm and slid it down toward his hand until I felt his fingers wrap around mine. I felt better instantly. “Okay, then. Here’s what I think.”
“Um, excuse me?” Aaron was holding up his hand. Geez, did he stil think he was in high school?
“Yes, Aaron?” said Vayl.
“I don’t know if this’l help your plans or not, but I wasn’t just supposed to kil you.” We stared at him so long that he checked to make sure his fly was zipped. Final y Vayl said,
“You were given further orders?”
“Yeah.”
“Noooo, Aaron!” wailed Senior from the corner of the room. Raoul waved at him and the sound muted so quickly you’d have thought he was holding a TV remote.
“Oh, that’s cool,” I said. “You’ve gotta teach me that one.”
“If you survive this ordeal, I wil ,” Raoul promised.
“Deal.” I gestured to Junior. “What were you supposed to do after you’d offed Vayl?”
“They told me to put his, uh, remains in a bag and bring them to their boss.”
“How could you do that? He’s a freaking ghost!”
Aaron shook his head. “No. Look, you keep thinking this guy, Brude, was tel ing me what to do.
But I only heard my dad mention him once. The same way you’d say, I don’t know, Kim Jong-il. Or Bernie Madoff. But he’s not the one who gave me the orders. You know, the one who said, ‘Do this or your dad wil never stop haunting you.’ That was a different guy.”
“Did he tel you his name?” Vayl asked.
“Yeah. In fact, he said it a few times. I got the feeling he wanted me to drop it before I kil ed you.
But that seemed kind of melodramatic. So I didn’t.” He paused. And then when he realized we were waiting for it he said, “Oh! You wanna know—yeah, his name was Roldan.” CHAPTER FOUR
Once Aaron had dropped the name of the werewolf who’d become Vayl’s worst enemy (I would’ve said nemesis, but that’s so Sherlock Holmesian), Aaron Senior gave up the fight and faded away.
So did my headache. Most likely a sign that Brude had just fal en back to find a better position from which to attempt a strokeinducing attack the next time I seemed even remotely vulnerable.
Vayl had looked down at me. “You need food. And I could use another bite as wel .” He smirked at his pun. “Let us take this discussion to the kitchen, shal we?” So we’d ended up crowded around his table for two, using chairs he’d brought in from the dining room to make up the difference, staring out the window into the backyard, where Jack had decided he needed more running time.
Astral had taken her customary perch on the mantel of yet another fireplace that sat between the door and the hal that led to the utility room. Between it and the kitchen sink on the opposite wal sat a wide maple butcher-
