Not only that, but the way had been more difficult than usual. Demon patrols had taken to the streets with a vengeance. She didn’t know if it had anything todo with what had taken place at Akehurst Sanitarium or not. She suspected that it might.
The Limehouse District lay on the north side of the river between Shadwell and the Isle of Dogs. In the past, it had been a major port for the English Navy. The locals had been called limeys due to the numerous limekilns in use at the various potteries that existed in the area. Gradually the name had spread to the English sailors, who’d been forced to drink rations of lime juice to preventscurvy.
The Ellis Building had been erected in 2014 and named after a popular English writer. It had also been put to use by those that Leah served.
Staying to the shadows, mindful of the Soul Reaper clinging to the top of the eight-story building, Leah went up the steps. The Soul Reaper didn’t overlyworry her. The demon only preyed on the bodies of those recently slain. Living beings didn’t interest it.
They tended to be crudely formed of writhing flesh and pulsed with what the Cabalists called “spectral” energy. This one looked like a cowled man from thewaist up but had a serpent’s tail that flicked restlessly. Four tendrils ofpurple-white energy opened and closed around it.
Leah went through the shattered doors and stepped into the lobby. Framed pictures of the author’s creations hung on the wall and looked out of place inthe devastation. Debris and corpses lay scattered on the floor.
Before the Hellgate had opened, the Ellis Building had housed independent businesses that included a travel guide, a temporary personnel placement office, an independent film studio, clothing shops, and other businesses. The upper four floors had held apartments.
Now they held nothing but the secrets concealed in the lower levels.
Leah entered a style shop containing swivel seats, sinks, and shelves that had been filled with product. All the product had been stolen in the early days after the invasion.
That anyone would steal hair care product at a time when London was being razed by demons had amazed Leah. Food and water were common sense, but gels and sprays were pure larceny. Of course, with her training those things could be used as weapons.
At the back of the style shop, Leah stepped into a closet and pressed a hidden switch over the door. The setup at the time had been a joke, an acknowledgement of a famous television show that had been on sixty years ago.
A hidden door opened in the back of the closet. Leah hesitated a moment before she entered. This could be the last free breath you take, she told herself. Then she stepped inside.
“Warren?”
When he heard Naomi’s voice, Warren turned from the window where he’d beenstanding and letting the sun fall across his face. For four long years most of his face had been dead to the touch, all the nerves killed by the fire. Now he felt the warmth again.
“Yes,” he said.
Shock filled her features. “Your face.”
Warren smiled. “It is,” he agreed.
“How did you do that?”
“I’ve learned more since you slept.”
Naomi walked over to join him. She studied him with open fascination. “Isthis really you?”
“It is.” Warren captured her hand in his human one and brought her fingers tohis face. He felt her touch against his skin. She was warm and smooth.
Her fingers started to peel back the turtleneck he’d put on to cover histhroat.
“No,” he said. “It is finished.”
Naomi took her hand back. “This is whatyou looked like before Merihim claimed you?”
“Mostly. I don’t have any pictures to go by. All I have is what I remember.”Warren took one of her hands and turned the palm up. The scar that he remembered was there. He couldn’t remember how she’d gotten it exactly. There was ahalf-remembered tale of a chase through an alley.
He concentrated for just a moment, imagining the skin whole and unblemished. Shimmering force radiated from his palm. The scar vanished.
Naomi took her hand back. “That’s amazing. The Reiki teachings say thatpeople can learn to do things like this for themselves, but not for others.”
“They’re wrong,” Warren said. He studied her horns and the tattoos she wore.
The horns had been grafted to her head by small demon symbiotes the Cabalists had learned to control. Most of the grafting had been done through arcane energy or fire, sutures or symbiotes. In some cases, the most desperate among the Cabalists used a blend of technology and arcane forces.
“I could remove those horns and erase those tattoos,” he told her. “Likethey’d never been.”
Naomi quickly stepped back and raised a hand to protect herself. “No.”
“You don’t need them.”
“They help me use the power,” Naomi said. “I won’t give up what I’velearned.”
“The power doesn’t come from those things,” Warren said. “It comes frominside you.”
“A little of it comes from inside me. I’ve never been as powerful as youhave. I borrow the power. I don’t create it and command it the way youdo.”
“Do you like looking like that?”
Hurt gleamed in Naomi’s eyes. “You’ve never said there was anything wrongwith the way I looked.”
“I’m not saying there is now.” But Warren knew that he wanted to see what shehad looked like before she’d grafted the horns on and inked the tattoos. In hismind’s eye she would be beautiful. “But you could go back to the way you were. Icould give you that.”
Naomi crossed her arms. “You could also take away my power and leave medefenseless. Is that what you want to do?”
Warren let his hand fall to his side. “No.”
“I’m not Kelli,” she said. “I can stand up for myself. I can take care ofmyself.” She paused. “I won’t give that up. Not for anyone.”
“I could take care
