**NB. This story is as it comes – straight out of my head and may contain typos**
CHAPTER 12 – BLANE
“You should have worn a black suit today,” Joseph muttered as he took my jacket. “The French-blue is going to show the bloodstains.”
I’d begun wearing blue again after Lola, the three-year-old child I very much suspected was the reincarnation of my dear Nevaeh, told me blue was her favourite colour. Nevaeh had loved the cerulean sky, the deep blue of the Pacific, and the turquoise of the Caribbean Sea. Her eyes had been the colour of worn denim, and even now, they were the last thing I saw before I fell asleep and the first thing on my mind when I woke up. When I bought her jewellery, it had always been sapphires. I wore one of them in a ring now.
Nevaeh’s return was problematic in so many ways, her age being the most important issue. All those feelings I’d had for Nev were wrong now that she was a young child. But I couldn’t turn off my protective instincts. I’d failed her once, and I wouldn’t do so again. Unfortunately, that had led to me putting on a few pounds seeing as Marianna, Lola’s mother, had started a small baking business. I was her best customer. I might not be a significant part of Lola’s life, but I could ensure her mom wasn’t short of money.
And the excess cakes wouldn’t prevent me from taking on Zion.
Or winning.
Perhaps I should have cut him a little slack on account of his lack of celestial knowledge, but I couldn’t get past the fact that he’d sent a man to kidnap an innocent woman. It wasn’t as if Laurent wanted to invite Wren over for tea and scones. No, I very much feared that if he got his hands on both ladies, nobody would ever find the bodies.
Joseph watched my back as I climbed into the cage. Zion was so delightfully oblivious as he jogged on the spot and cracked his neck from side to side that I had to suppress a smile. He took his time wrapping his hands while I leaned against the side of the cage, legs crossed at the ankles, and waited.
“Are you ready yet? Time is money, remember?”
“You wanna call the ambulance before or after I pound you into the floor?”
“Let’s not waste a valuable medical resource.”
Ever watched a pet cat play with a mouse? They rarely go in for the kill right away. No, they prefer to toy with their prey, even giving them false hope of salvation before pouncing. Sometimes they abandon them altogether. Take Myrtle the Maine Coone, for example. In Plane Two, she spent hours catching mice, crickets, spiders, even small snakes, and letting them go in my parents’ home. She also enjoyed purloining valuable trinkets and shitting in the bunkers on my father’s favourite golf course. Myrtle irritated my parents to no end, but who could blame her? Until my second-cousin Orwell got ahold of Great-Uncle Tiberius’s notes and began experimenting, she’d been a perfectly normal fourteen-year-old girl. Now she only assumed her human form at certain points in the lunar cycle and spent the rest of the time wreaking havoc.
Anyhow, I digress.
Zion finally got his act together and swung a right hook. Hard. Which was a good thing, because I sidestepped and caught the wince as his fist connected with the metal fence. By the time he recovered, I was behind him, and my jab to his kidney only riled his temper. The growl he let out was barely human. I should know. In my peripheral vision, I spotted Nero moving toward the cage, and Joseph stepped forward too. He’d run interference while I dealt with this unethical idiot. I had nothing against sin, per se, but there were some lines a man shouldn’t cross.
Another growl, and Zion swung again, this time with an uppercut. I blocked, punched him in the stomach, and waited politely while he got his breath back.
“Why do men like you invariably have to do things the hard way?” I asked. “Violence isn’t always the answer.”
The growl turned into a roar, and a blow glanced off my shoulder as I spun away. Beating me was nothing but a pipe dream, but I didn’t want him giving up too soon. Nero was at the cage door now, and Joseph tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned, my demon sidekick felled him with a single punch to the jaw. Zion hadn’t hired Nero for his brains, then. The sparring partner hovered in the background, no doubt trying to make up his mind whether he wanted to be next.
Slowly, slowly, Zion began to realise he’d made a monumental error. He’d judged me on my appearance, and supernatural strength and speed were two factors he hadn’t considered. Plus his accuracy was terrible. A left jab missed me completely, and when he stumbled forward, I helped him down to the mat. Blood from his flattened nose speckled the canvas like a cut-price Jackson Pollock painting.
“Aargh!”
“You wanted this,” I reminded him. “Broken ribs are an occupational hazard.”
He garbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “Fuck you,” which only served to remind me how long it had been since I’d indulged in pleasures of the flesh. Thank goodness Nevaeh wasn’t around to see me turning this fool into ground beef—she’d been a confirmed pacifist.
“Now, let’s continue the conversation we started earlier. You’re going to locate Caria, and when you do, I’ll compensate you for your time.” Later, I’d work to tear apart his drugs empire, but that could wait for a few weeks. “And if you fail, I’ll come back and show you a whole new meaning to the term ‘spineless.’ Do you understand?”
I took the grunt to mean, “Yes.”
“Don’t get any cute ideas about tipping off Laurent, either. Not unless you want your Colosseum to go the same way as the Temple of Artemis.”
“The…the what?” Zion choked out.
“Look it up.” I hadn’t come here to give a history lesson. “I’ll dismantle your little empire piece by piece, and then I’ll dismantle you.” When I glanced around, the sparring partner was nowhere to be seen, and Nero was still on the floor. The bigger they were, the harder they fell. I patted Zion on the shoulder. “You have one week. I’ll be in touch.”
Once we got outside into daylight, Joseph looked me up and down and groaned.
“You have blood on your pants. And your shirt.”
At least it wasn’t mine. I’d sliced my hand open on one of Zion’s front teeth, but once I’d picked the broken tooth out of the wound, the flesh had regenerated almost instantly—another perk of being not entirely human. All I had to show for my trouble was smooth skin.
“Let’s pick up lunch from La Nostra Casa on the way back,” I suggested. Vee had recommended the restaurant at the end of last year, and I’d eaten there a number of times since. The food was excellent. “You’ll have to go inside to collect our order, obviously.”
“Can’t we get it delivered? Rosetta keeps trying to set me up with her granddaughter.”
La Nostra Casa was a real family affair. Rosetta and her husband, Carmelo, owned the place, her son cooked, her daughter looked after the books, and her grandkids waited tables on the weekends. Which was why Joseph and I tended to visit Monday to Friday, although it would be amusing to see him pushed into a date with Giorgia Romano. The woman literally never stopped talking.
“We have to drive right past the place. What does Wren like to eat?”
“How should I know?”
“You’re right—just order one of everything.”
After all she’d been through, Wren deserved to be spoiled.
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Chapter 13
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