such miniscule pieces that they will never…” Jude paused, shoving the point an inch into the demon’s neck. Black oozed out. “They will never put you back together again.”
Dommiel made a choking noise but nodded obedience immediately. Jude dropped him, grabbed my hand and led me back out the way we’d come, still holding the dagger in his right hand. I didn’t protest. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Before we’d descended the stairs, Jude had shielded me again. I felt an electric snap, diluting the fear I’d been swimming in since he’d removed it. He slid the dagger into a sheath under his jacket as we made our way past the courtyard and through the claustrophobic pathway into the street.
We walked two blocks without saying a word. I had no idea where we were going now, and I didn’t really care. My mind raced, repeating the scene over and over. My emotions stewed into a whirlpool—fear, safety, anger, relief, then finally pissed-off-beyond-belief. We’d moved past Jackson Square onto Ursulines Street. The crowds thinned. Only a group of three ambled down the walkway, laughing as they went. The joyful noise of the city infuriated me more. Everyone was going about their happy little lives, not knowing that creatures of the underworld lurked at every corner, waiting to prey on them.
I jerked my hand away and crossed my arms, walking on in silence. I felt his eyes on me but refused to meet them. His safety blanket of illusion vanished, leaving me cold again, making me even more furious.
“Why are you angry?”
I came to a halt, putting my hands on my waist. “Are you kidding me? What were you thinking taking me into that, that cesspool!”
My instincts weren’t so far off with the whole minnow/shark-tank analogy.
“I had to know if he was the one trying to capture you. There was only one way to find out.”
“Like hell! I can think of a million ways, like go in by yourself and do your demon-hunter mojo thing and say ‘Hey. Know anything about a Vessel?’ Get your answers, then go on your merry way.”
Not that Jude did anything in a merry way.
“He’s a demon, a high demon, a master in the art of deception. I could never trust his words.”
“Why did you show him that I was a Vessel? Now he knows who I am, what I look like. It’ll be pretty damn easy for him to find me now!”
I felt what was coming. The inescapable physical reaction most women have when a catharsis of emotions boils over. Hot tears welled in my eyes, trailing down my face, though I refused to make a sound. Jude stepped closer. I stepped back. He stopped, unreadable thoughts swimming in his black eyes. He glanced toward Jackson Square, then back at me.
“Give me your hand, Genevieve.”
He held his hand out, palm up, waiting.
“I want answers. Why did you set me up like that? You used me like bait.”
I couldn’t keep the hurt from my voice. His hand was still outstretched.
“High demons can deceive all creatures, human and otherwise. They have difficulty disguising emotion. I brought you to achieve two things, which I did. One, to establish that Dommiel was not the one behind the demon at the club the night I met you or the would-be abductors at your father’s dojo. His violent reaction upon realizing you were, in fact, a Vessel confirmed my assumption. Two, to make him understand that you are in no way a possession he is allowed to add to his collection. Give me your hand. Now.”
Okay. That was a lot to absorb. I wiped my face with the sleeve of my red jacket. I put my hand in his, feeling a sudden snap of Jude armor. We walked on.
“Could you really do that? Cut him into a bunch of pieces?”
A sharp nod.
“But he wouldn’t die?”
A shake of the head.
“Demons don’t die. They move into different realms and shift forms, but they never die.”
I sighed heavily, feeling the weight of the world bearing down on me. How was I supposed to beat these guys if they couldn’t be killed? How
Dommiel made a choking noise but nodded obedience immediately. Jude dropped him, grabbed my hand and led me back out the way we’d come, still holding the dagger in his right hand. I didn’t protest. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Before we’d descended the stairs, Jude had shielded me again. I felt an electric snap, diluting the fear I’d been swimming in since he’d removed it. He slid the dagger into a sheath under his jacket as we made our way past the courtyard and through the claustrophobic pathway into the street.
We walked two blocks without saying a word. I had no idea where we were going now, and I didn’t really care. My mind raced, repeating the scene over and over. My emotions stewed into a whirlpool—fear, safety, anger, relief, then finally pissed-off-beyond-belief. We’d moved past Jackson Square onto Ursulines Street. The crowds thinned. Only a group of three ambled down the walkway, laughing as they went. The joyful noise of the city infuriated me more. Everyone was going about their happy little lives, not knowing that creatures of the underworld lurked at every corner, waiting to prey on them.
I jerked my hand away and crossed my arms, walking on in silence. I felt his eyes on me but refused to meet them. His safety blanket of illusion vanished, leaving me cold again, making me even more furious.
“Why are you angry?”
I came to a halt, putting my hands on my waist. “Are you kidding me? What were you thinking taking me into that, that cesspool!”
My instincts weren’t so far off with the whole minnow/shark-tank analogy.
“I had to know if he was the one trying to capture you. There was only one way to find out.”
“Like hell! I can think of a million ways, like go in by yourself and do your demon-hunter mojo thing and say ‘Hey. Know anything about a Vessel?’ Get your answers, then go on your merry way.”
Not that Jude did anything in a merry way.
“He’s a demon, a high demon, a master in the art of deception. I could never trust his words.”
“Why did you show him that I was a Vessel? Now he knows who I am, what I look like. It’ll be pretty damn easy for him to find me now!”
I felt what was coming. The inescapable physical reaction most women have when a catharsis of emotions boils over. Hot tears welled in my eyes, trailing down my face, though I refused to make a sound. Jude stepped closer. I stepped back. He stopped, unreadable thoughts swimming in his black eyes. He glanced toward Jackson Square, then back at me.
“Give me your hand, Genevieve.”
He held his hand out, palm up, waiting.
“I want answers. Why did you set me up like that? You used me like bait.”
I couldn’t keep the hurt from my voice. His hand was still outstretched.
“High demons can deceive all creatures, human and otherwise. They have difficulty disguising emotion. I brought you to achieve two things, which I did. One, to establish that Dommiel was not the one behind the demon at the club the night I met you or the would-be abductors at your father’s dojo. His violent reaction upon realizing you were, in fact, a Vessel confirmed my assumption. Two, to make him understand that you are in no way a possession he is allowed to add to his collection. Give me your hand. Now.”
Okay. That was a lot to absorb. I wiped my face with the sleeve of my red jacket. I put my hand in his, feeling a sudden snap of Jude armor. We walked on.
“Could you really do that? Cut him into a bunch of pieces?”
A sharp nod.
“But he wouldn’t die?”
A shake of the head.
“Demons don’t die. They move into different realms and shift forms, but they never die.”
I sighed heavily, feeling the weight of the world bearing down on me. How was I supposed to beat these guys if they couldn’t be killed? How
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