Death Wish by Trina M Lee Page A

blue-black hair, on the surface Shya was very much a fine-looking Japanese man. Lies. He wore that face, but he was a demon, and those red eyes ensured I never forgot that.
    “I knew you’d slip up,” he spoke to the man struggling in the chair. “You’ve gotten lazy. You can’t be trusted anymore. It’s time to send you back.”
    “No!” came the frantic response. With eyes wide and the stink of burnt flesh wafting from him, the bound demon panicked. “Torture me, tear my limbs off. I don’t care. Anything! I can’t go back!”
    I lingered as far from the action as possible. The wall at my back was glass from floor to ceiling. I wished I could simply step through to the other side and escape the stifling atmosphere. A fire burned in the hearth adjacent to me. Nobody else seemed to find it uncomfortable, but on a hot July night, the fire was ridiculous.
    “One job, Brook. I asked you to keep tabs on one person, and you failed. I have no further use for you.” Shya held up a hand, holding off Falon’s assault while he glared daggers at their hostage. “You’ve become a liability.”
    “I’ll do anything. Please! You know how he is. It wasn’t my fault!” The demon’s eyes were solid black as he gazed up at Shya pleadingly. The desperation and fear emanated from him in thick waves that assaulted my finely tuned senses. Demon energy was heavy and oppressive. I wasn’t a fan.
    “What do you think?” Shya turned to Falon with an inquisitive expression.
    Falon’s silver wings stretched out behind him. A pure angel had white wings, but he was tainted. From shoulder to floor, they were still massive and gorgeous, far more beautiful than the black wings Shya possessed. Currently, Shya’s were absent from sight, either by sheer illusion or demon magic, I didn’t know.
    Falon fixed Brook with a hard stare as he fondled the bottle of holy water. “Send his ass back to hell.”
    I stiffened at the malice in his tone. Everything that came out of Falon’s mouth made me shocked that he’d ever been an angel. He was his own special brand of evil.
    “Oh come on, Shya,” Brook begged. “You can’t let a goddamn fence rider decide my fate. He’s not one of us.” His anxious gaze landed on me where I stood trying to be invisible. “Might as well let the werewolf choose if you’re going to let an undecided angel do it.”
    There was a sudden commotion as Falon advanced on Brook. Forcing a drop of holy water into his open mouth, Falon stepped back with grim satisfaction, watching the smoke rise from the face of the wailing demon. The whole scenario sickened me.
    Shya turned to me with a look I couldn’t quite interpret. “That’s not a bad idea.”
    “Oh, no.” I shook my head vigorously. “I can’t do that. Please, don’t bring me into this.”
    Fear clawed its way up my throat, choking off my words. Shya scared the living hell out of me, but I was digging in my heels on this one. Just weeks ago I’d watched Shya and Falon kill a preacher. Whatever they were up to, I wanted no part of it.
    “Look at her shaking like a frightened little girl,” Falon scoffed. “You can’t be serious, Shya. She’s here for one thing, and this isn’t it.”
    I was not shaking. Falon’s derogatory attitude had me biting back an ugly retort. I did agree though. I wasn’t here for this.
    Shya looked amused. “Fair enough. This has taken long enough. We have other business to get to.” To Brook he said, “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today. Consider this your last chance. Next time you let me down, I’ll see you burning in the pit where you belong.”
    Brook sank back in his chair in relief, the heavy silver bindings on his wrists jingled with his movements. Silver didn’t work on vampires or werewolves the way Hollywood would have one think. It did, however, work on demons.
    Falon took his sweet time freeing the demon from his bonds, but I began to breathe a little easier. Shya’s large modern home was