Chaos Bites Read online

  Sanducci gave great photograph. Beneath the mess, he was just short of beautiful. Olive skin, black eyes, hair so dark it appeared blue in certain lights, and a face that had been known to stop traffic in small to midsized towns. For just a few seconds, I enjoyed staring at him. Then Summer Bartholomew appeared, and all my warm, fuzzy feelings evaporated.

  “Who’d you bang lately?” she asked.

  My fingers curled into my palms. Why was it that every time we met, I wanted to slug her?

  Oh, yeah. Hated her guts.

  Even after a dusty, bloody battle with storm monsters, she appeared the same as always—blond and petite, with wide blue eyes and perfect pink lips that matched her perfect pink nails. Her usual outfit—skintight jeans, size zero, a fringed halter top, boots, and a white cowboy hat—was in place and there wasn’t a speck on it.

  “Rodeo fairy,” I muttered.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Summer put her arm through Jimmy’s.

  Jimmy jerked away. Summer’s face fell. She blinked as if she might cry. I’d feel sorry for her if she hadn’t sold her soul to Satan. Literally.

  “Any word from your boss?” I asked.

  Her gaze narrowed. Behind the pretty blond facade, something slithered.

  Summer was a fairy. She could practice glamour, a type of shape-shifting that made her more attractive to humans. However, since her magic didn’t work on anyone on an errand of mercy—and that was pretty much my schedule 24/7 these days—I figured she was as annoyingly cute as she appeared. I’d always thought there was more to her than we knew about.

  I’d been proven right when we discovered she was moonlighting for the other side. Her excuse: She’d had to save Jimmy. The price? Her soul. Lucky for Summer I’d sent the soul snatcher back to hell before he could collect. She hadn’t been all that grateful.

  “Kiss my ass,” she said sweetly.

  Ruthie had ordered Jimmy and Summer to work together so Jimmy could keep an eye on her. I kind of thought that was rewarding Summer for bad behavior. All she’d ever wanted was Sanducci. Too bad he loved me.

  “What are you doing here, Lizzy?”

  Or he had. Now I wasn’t so sure.

  “You don’t look happy to see me.”

  Summer snorted. I flicked my hand, and she flew backward a few feet, landing on her perfect little butt with a thud and a grunt. Dust cascaded over her pristine boots. A deep growl rumbled from inside that did not match her outside. She lifted her arms and shot sparkling dust from the tips of her fingers.

  The sprinkles hit me in the face, cool and a little sticky. I’d closed my eyes, and when I opened them diamonds seemed to twinkle on my eyelashes. But I remained on my feet, and I felt no compulsion to cluck like a duck. Instead, I stuck out my tongue.

  Jimmy sighed. “It’s hardly fair to zap Summer when she can’t zap you back.”

  “There’s fair”—I let my gaze wander over the fairy as she got up, trying to dust the dirt from her jeans but somehow managing to grind it in farther—“and then there’s fun.”

  Jimmy’s lips twitched. So did mine. Sometimes it seemed as if nothing had changed.

  Then his mouth tightened, his eyes hardened, and he turned away.

  Other times I knew that everything had.

  There were so many things about Jimmy I no longer understood, so many years we’d been apart, years when I thought he’d been gallivanting around the world boinking his way through the Sports Illustrated Super-model Club. He probably had been. But in between boink-a-thons he’d been killing demons. A lot of them.

  “You weren’t aware she had the power of the sun?” Jimmy’s voice contained not even the slightest tingle of warmth.

  “No,” Ruthie said softly. “Could be a power she inherited from her mother.”

  “A phoenix was a symbol of the sun god in Egypt,” Jimmy murmured. “So I’d say that was possible. Ever see her mom do what she just did?”

  “She’s right here,” I said.

  Everyone ignored me.

  “No,” Ruthie repeated. “Though that doesn’t mean she couldn’t.”

  “Sawyer?”

  “No.”

  “You’re sure?”

  Ruthie’s dark, bland gaze met Jimmy’s. Ruthie was always sure.

  “What about her father?”

  “Not a clue who he is.”

  “Is that not a clue, not a clue?” I put in. “Or not a clue but you secretly have a clue.”

  “What?” Jimmy asked.

  “She said she didn’t know who my mother was, either, but surprise! She did.”

  “I still think you slept with something else and absorbed another power,” Summer muttered.

  “I still think I should ram a steel rod down your throat and bury you with rowan so you never rise.” I shrugged. “But we can’t always get what we want.”

  “Girls,” Ruthie said. “Enough.”

  Summer and I shut up, satisfying our craving for physical violence by glaring at each other.

  “Why are you here?” Jimmy asked again.

  “Ruthie said you needed help.”

  Jimmy scowled at Luther. “I could have handled this.”

  “Yeah, you were doing a great job,” I muttered, and earned a glare from Sanducci that matched the equally vicious one I was still getting from the fairy.

  A bright flash of light drew his gaze past me, and he paled despite the olive tone of his skin. “What the fuck?”

  I spun. Lord only knew what could make Sanducci pale like that.

  Faith—once again a chubby baby—had her face pressed to the window. Her gray eyes shone luminescent with unshed tears as she pounded against the glass. Her naked chest hitched as she drew in a breath that would no doubt break every ear drum in the vicinity.

  Once again she’d developed human skills in far too short a time to be human. A few days ago I’d had to support her neck like a just-born infant. Now she stood on her own two feet, albeit leaning against the car door, and pounded the glass hard enough to make it rattle. If this kept up, she’d be sneaking joints and dating inappropriate young men by next Tuesday.

  Something shot past me—a flare of motion too fast to distinguish an identity. I figured it was Luther, with Ruthie manning the controls. Instead, Summer materialized next to the car.

  She tugged once on the door, then zapped it with make-me dust, which, from what I’d seen of it so far, worked just as well on things as people. Next time she touched the handle, the door swung open, and she swept Faith into her arms.

  The baby hugged her as if they were long-lost relatives. I wanted to stalk over there and yank the child away, but I refrained.

  Summer rounded on me, lips pulled back from her teeth, face furious. “You can’t leave a baby in the car like a dog! You shouldn’t even leave a dog in the car if it’s over seventy degrees, let alone ninety in the sun like it is now.”

  “The sun wasn’t out until I brought it out,” I said mildly. “And she wasn’t a baby when I left.”

  That put a stop to Summer’s tirade.

  She frowned, leaned back, stared into the child’s face, then glanced at me, Jimmy, and Ruthie-Luther in turn. “You’d better explain that.”

  Luther took a breath to answer, and I shook my head then crossed to the car. Summer inched out of my way as I passed. Smart move, though I wouldn’t have shoved her when she had the baby in her arms.

  Faith gurgled and cooed. I glanced at her with a smile—believing for an instant that she was gurgling and cooing at me—but instead she patted Summer’s face and babbled to her like they were BFFs.

  “I thought fairies stole babies,” I muttered as I leaned inside and grabbed Faith’s blanket.

  “That’s goblins.”

  Backing out, I nearly bumped my head when I straightened too quickly. “Goblins,” I repeated.

  “Little people. Mischievous to the point of evil. Their laugh curdles milk. They hide small objects from humans.”

  “Like ba
bies?”

  Summer lifted one shoulder and went back to playing goo-goo with Faith.

  “If goblins were stealing babies, wouldn’t there be a lot more talk about missing tots?”

  “Who says there isn’t?” Summer asked.

  True.

  “Except goblins only take babies when they have one to give.” Summer crossed her eyes and scrunched up her face. Faith giggled, the sound pure joy, and I couldn’t help but smile before glancing at Jimmy.

  He wasn’t even looking at me. Instead he stared at Faith as if she’d just sprung from the ozone, which she kind of had.

  “No one notices they’ve got a goblin instead of a baby?” I found this hard to believe. But so many things were.

  “Goblins leave changelings behind,” Summer said.

  “Which are?”

  “Ugly goblin babies.”

  “Still not getting why no one notices this.”

  “Because an ugly goblin baby is an adorable human one.”

  Shades of The Munsters. The ugly cousin was really quite a swan.

  I met Ruthie’s eyes. “What are we doing about this?”

  “It’s rare, Lizbeth. When it happens, we do our best to track down the goblin and take back the baby.”

  There was so much I didn’t know about this world, my job, hell, everything.

  “Why are we talking about goblins?” Jimmy demanded.

  “I needed to know.”

  “Not right this second. The last changeling I heard about was a good three years ago. The Nephilim have bigger fish to fry. Like you.”

  “And you,” I countered.

  Jimmy shrugged, unconcerned as always with the legion of half demons that wanted us dead. “What was she when you left her?”

  I figured show was always better than tell, so I tossed Faith’s binkie over her head. The bright flash was muted by the pink flannel. Summer’s eyes widened, and she nearly fumbled the baby as the child’s bones shifted, and her soft bronze skin sprouted fuzzy black hair. At least I wasn’t the only one with butter fingers.

  “Voilà!” I yanked the blanket off. The black kitten’s tail twitched back and forth as she contemplated each of us in turn with her pale gray gaze.

  “Is she yours?” Jimmy asked.

  I threw up the hand that wasn’t holding the blanket. “Why does everyone ask me that?”

  “She’s a shape-shifter.”

  “So are half the people I meet these days.”

  “You’re denying she’s yours?”

  “Hell, yeah.”

  “She’s quite obviously Sawyer’s.” Summer smoothed her hand over Faith’s dark head, and the kitten began to purr. “So why wouldn’t we think she’s yours, too?”

  I glanced at Jimmy, but his eyes revealed nothing. How could he believe I’d bring a child into this world with anyone but—

  I cut that thought off before it showed all over my face. What Jimmy and I had once had—a love so deep I thought it would never die—had been wounded so often and so badly, I wasn’t sure it could survive. The dream of a future for us—especially one that included the white-picket-fence hopes I hid in my heart—was no longer possible.

  I pulled my gaze from Jimmy’s still, stoic face. “I have power, but not enough to cook a kid in less than a month.”

  “So you say,” Summer murmured, “but you lie.”

  I took a step toward her. “You are so lucky you’re holding the baby.”

  Summer shoved the kitten at Jimmy, but he refused to take her, behaving as if Faith were still an infant, backing away, shaking his head. “Nuh-uh. Not me.”

  The fairy turned to Luther, who shook his head. When she glanced again at me, I allowed my lips to curve just a little. “I may lie, but at least I didn’t sell my soul to Satan.”

  “Yet.” Summer tilted her pretty, pointed chin. “Just because you aren’t capable of loving someone—”

  “I can love!”

  “Loving someone enough,” she continued, “to choose a fate worse than death. Oh, we know you’re perfectly capable of dying for someone. You throw yourself headlong into danger every chance you get.” Her tone sneered overachiever even louder than her expression. “But try picking the worst thing you can imagine. Try pledging eternity in the flames just to save him.” She glanced at Jimmy. “Even though you know he might hate you for it.”

  “That’s enough,” Jimmy said quietly. But Summer wasn’t finished.

  “She wouldn’t have done it for you.”

  “I know.”

  Summer smiled, a thin, nasty smile that did not fit on her sweet, heart-shaped face. “You think she might do it for him?”

  CHAPTER 12

  “Do what for who?” I asked.

  “What do you think?” Summer didn’t even glance at me, just continued to hold Jimmy’s gaze. “Sell your soul for Sawyer.”

  I laughed. “Right.”

  “You’re on your way to the Black Hills,” she said. “To see a skinwalker about raising his ghost.”

  “How do you know that?” I glanced at Luther, but he shook his head.

  Summer tapped an index finger against her temple. She was psychic, too. I took ridiculous satisfaction in observing that her manicure was chipped.

  “Someone’s gotta do it,” I said, avoiding Jimmy’s gaze, “and as usual that someone’s me.”

  “Let him rest, Lizzy.”

  I couldn’t help it. I met Jimmy’s eyes, and then I couldn’t look away. “He isn’t resting. He’s wandering.” I swallowed. “Through my dreams.”

  “You’ve got to let him go,” Jimmy continued. “He’s dead. You of all people should know that.”

  “Low blow,” I murmured.

  “It had to be done.”

  “Just like raising him has to be.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “He disappeared with the key.”

  What I referred to was the original text of the Key of Solomon. A grimoire, or book of spells, supposedly composed by the biblical King Solomon. Inside were incantations used to summon, release, and command demons—for starters.

  My mother, the Phoenix, had had the key in her possession. Then I’d killed her, turned my back—I’d had a few things to clear off my plate at the time—and when I went to retrieve the thing, it was as gone as Sawyer.

  “Did you ever consider that someone took both the body and the book?” Jimmy asked.

  “They would have had to be awful fast and awful quiet. Awful invisible, too.”

  Jimmy, Summer, and I had all been within a few hundred feet of the key and Sawyer. We hadn’t been paying attention, but we were also a little above average in the hearing, seeing, and sensing departments.

  “Maybe they were,” Jimmy said.

  Conversations like this always gave me a headache.

  “Whatever.” I flapped my hand, and Jimmy stepped back. So did Summer and Luther. I guess I couldn’t blame them. When I used that tone and flipped my fingers, people usually flew. “If someone or something took Sawyer as well as the book, his ghost should know who. We need the key, Sanducci. If the Nephilim have it, they’ll just let all the Grigori out again.”

  “Don’t you think if they were going to, they would have?”

  “They did.”

  “I mean again. It’s been weeks.”

  “You know as well as I do that the first step to starting Doomsday is killing the leader of the light.”

  The Nephilim had begun this whole mess by killing Ruthie. But I’d managed to stop the Doomsday clock by ending their leader then sending the demon horde back to hell.

  However, they’d be back for round two. No matter how many battles the federation won, the final war was inevitable.

  “They’re going to have a pretty hard time killing you,” Jimmy said.

  “Bummer for them, huh?”

  Jimmy grinned, and for just an instant I caught a glimpse of the boy I’d adored. My breath caught. I didn’t want to lose that memory, not right away. Someti
mes the memories of good times were all that kept us from giving in to the bad.

  As if he’d read my mind, Jimmy’s smile faded. “We need to stop screwing around searching for the key when we have better things to do.”

  “Like?”

  “Kill Nephilim. If we manage to obliterate them all, don’t we win?”

  “I don’t think we can.”

  He lifted his chin. “Why not?”

  Jimmy was the best DK in the federation, had been since he was eighteen. He’d been Ruthie’s right-hand man. He’d be mine now if he could stand to be near me for more than a minute.

  “There’d always be one that we missed,” I said. “Or a breed would take it into his head that he wanted to rule the world, then run through the sequence that opens Tartarus”—the lowest level of hell reserved for the worst of the worst—“release the Grigori, re-populate the earth with Nephilim, and so on and so forth.”

  “I think we could take care of a breed before he managed all that.”

  “What if he had the Book of Samyaza?”

  “That’s a myth,” Jimmy muttered.

  “So are we.”

  It was an old argument. One we’d never resolved.

  The Book of Samyaza was a legend. No one had ever seen it, but according to the stories it had been written by a minion of Satan whose ear was filled with revelatory prophecies for the dark side.

  The Bible said good would triumph, and I believed that. I had to. Unfortunately, the Book of Samyaza said just the opposite. And the Nephilim believed that, too.

  I didn’t hear Jimmy approach until he spoke right next to me. “You need to let sleeping wolves die.”

  “Very funny.”

  “I liked it.” He remained silent until I met his eyes. “Sawyer’s gone. He isn’t coming back. Even if you raised his ghost, then what?”

  “I ask him the questions I need answered.”

  “And then?”

  “He goes into the light?”

  “Sure he does.”

  Sawyer had told me himself he was too damned to be innocent, although that had turned out not to be true. Still, I wasn’t sure the light was in his future. But I didn’t think the darkness should be, either.