By all appearances, he’d decided to play along, at least for the moment. Thank goodness.
Dever’s eyes rolled slowly from side to side, and his smile widened. His gaze narrowed on Cale’s backpack and his lips parted slightly. I could almost see him salivate. He felt the djinni’s presence. And he seemed to be buying our ruse.
The demon extended one human-looking hand toward me, as if he expected me to simply pony up, niceties be damned. “Give me the urn.”
Shit. He already knew there was an urn. But with any luck, Cale was correct in that the demon had never actually seen the real one.
I shook my head slowly. “Lacey first. Where is he?”
Dever frowned, and I felt the first true pulse of his power, threading through Xaphan’s heat wave toward me. The demon’s power felt like heat too, but of a more electrical variety. Lightening, rather than open flame. Dever would strike hard and fast from a single point, dropping me in my tracks, whereas Xaphan’s power would swell and bloat, consuming me from every direction all at once.
Two distinct visions of hell, but either one would do the job.
“You’re pushing your luck, Alexandra.” The demon watched me calmly, evidently waiting for me to fold under pressure.
I shrugged, as if dread hadn’t wound itself around my ribs, threatening to squeeze the very breath from my body. “So, either push back or go get Aaron Lacey.” Facing down a demon in the middle of a cemetery wasn’t exactly on my bucket list, but I knew better than to let my fear show.
Dever blinked, and his expression went blank. For a long moment, he did nothing, and I thought we were too late. He hadn’t brought his bargaining chip, because Lacey was already dead. Game over. I’d lost.
I’d lostmy friend.
But then, without turning to look, the demon extended his arm backward into the deep shadows at his back. Again, the darkness shimmered, and his hand and wrist disappeared into it. When his hand reappeared, it was wrapped around an unfamiliar arm, which belonged to the first in a string of four goblins who poured from the shadow in a single-file line, linked hand-to-hand like a bunch of preschoolers. The third goblin carried Aaron Lacey tossed over one shoulder like a bag of sand. I could only see his bottom half, worn-slick sneaker soles barely peeking from beneath too-long jeans, but the gremlin wasn’t moving. If he was breathing at all, I couldn’t tell it.
I scowled as I eyed the goblin goons. Apparently Dever had a never-ending supply of them, and I’d forgotten to specify that he come unaccompanied. But then, I had backup too, if a half-breed incubus/nymph and an invisible djinni counted. And since they wereallI had, I was pretty damned inclined to count them both.
“He better still be breathing,” I said, letting my threat go unspoken, because there really wasn’t much I could threaten a demon with.
Dever made a casual motion toward the ground, and the third goblin stepped forward, one hand at the base of Lacey’s spine. He heaved one broad, powerful shoulder, and the gremlin’s small, fragile-looking body tumbled to the ground at my feet, with nothing to break his fall as I lurched forward to catch him.
I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t expecting the bastard todrophim.
Lacey didn’t even flinch. He was unconscious.
As I knelt to examine him, my left hand slipped beneath the open front of my coat. I drew my gun and put a bullet through the third goblin’s forehead before he could even step back into line. He fell over backward, an astonished look on his face as his eyes stared blankly into the star-speckled night sky.
All three remaining goblins went for their guns. I shifted my arm to the left, aiming at the second goblin’s right eye.
“Stop,” Dever ordered, before any of us could get a shot off. It was just one word, and he didn’t even shout, but all three of his remaining goons froze. And since they hadn’t fired, I didn’t either. Instead, I met each of their gazes in turn, boldly. Silently letting them know that I would not hesitate to end them if I got a chance; as Dever’s minions, they were evil by association and did not qualify for my mercy.
With any luck, anyone who survived this little rendezvous would spread the word.
“You have your gremlin. Give me the urn.” Dever eyed Cale’s backpack, betraying his own eagerness. Not that it mattered; we all knew how desperate he was to get his hands on the djinni.
I reached down for Lacey without taking either my gaze or my aim from the goblin in the middle. My hand traveled up his arm, over his baggy long-sleeved tee until I reached his neck. The moment my fingers touched his skin, I jerked back, my focus drawn to his face instinctively. He was burning up—literally. His skin scorched my fingers, and I pulled my hand back reflexively.
Dever had already nearly killed him. Lacey needed medicine. Immediately. He also probably needed an ice bath to bring his temperature down before he was cooked from the inside out.
“What is this?” I demanded, shifting my focus to the demon. “What did you give him?”
“It was a simple infection a few hours ago, but it has moved into his blood stream. He needs serious medical attention. As soon as you hand over the urn, you will be free to go care for him.”
Fury pumped through my veins, fueling my temper like gasoline poured on a fire. I would get him. Somehow, I would make Dever pay for what he’d done. But Lacey came first. “Cale, toss me the antibiotics,” I said, without looking away from the demon’s face.
Cloth rustled as the bag slid from Cale’s shoulder. I heard the soft buzz of a zipper being opened, then the rattle of pills in a plastic bottle.
“The urn first,” Dever said. “Or I won’t allow the pills to take effect.”
I glared at the demon, wanting to believe that was beyond his power. But I couldn’t be sure. Twisting, I arched my brows at Cale, who nodded, confirming that Dever’s threat wasn’t empty.Fuck. “Give me the urn.” A thread of defeat wove its way through my voice, despite my best effort to censor it.
