Мишель Роуэн - Something Wicked

“Ben”—Oliver smiled at him coolly—“arguing will not win you any friends here. You will do what you’re told, when you’re told. If you’re unable to follow our rules and guidelines, I’m afraid we’re going to have a serious problem. Now, go home and await further instruction. You’re dismissed.”

It was on the tip of Ben’s tongue to tell Oliver to shove his rules and guidelines up his ass. But he said nothing. Instead he stood, nodded his head like an obedient child, and left the room.

His fleur-de-lis brand itched as he stalked through the halls of the underground Malleus headquarters. He’d been taken for a tour there and shown the cells where they kept various evil creatures locked away awaiting punishment or for experimental purposes.

Ben’s face ached from where the other demon had used him as a punching bag. He’d been unable to move, held in place by magic. Hardly a fair fight. His eye socket and jaw had felt better, that was for sure.

He passed a cell just as a guard exited holding a tray. The tray held. . feathers?

A deep, muted voice could be heard from inside the metal cell warded by magic. Ben couldn’t make out the words. On the door was a tiny opening at eye level.

“Don’t you want to help us?” the Malleus guard asked. “You came here to help, and now all you do is whine. You would be smart to keep your mouth shut.”

He closed the door completely and it locked with a click, then he walked off down the hall. A white feather fell off the tray and drifted to the ground in front of Ben. He leaned over and picked it up, twisting it between his fingers.

“That’s mine,” a voice said.

Ben looked to his right. A face peered at him through the opening on the door to the darkened cell. A man. His face gaunt, his eyes sunken. A lock of bright red hair fell across his forehead.

Ben pushed the feather through the opening and the man took it.

“Thank you.” The man’s voice was weary and barely audible.

“No problem. Feather pillow?” he asked.

“No. My wings. Or, rather, what’s left of them.”

“Your wings?”

“Ben!” Oliver shouted down the hall. “I thought I told you to leave?”

“How long have you been here?” Ben asked the man.

“A while.”

“Who are you?”

Distrust flickered in the man’s green eyes. “What do you care?”

Ben glanced at the opening again but the man’s face was gone. Talking to prisoners without permission was breaking the rules. The Malleus had a lot of rules.

He left the building without speaking to another soul and went back to his house. He picked up the phone and dialed Eden’s number. It went through to her voicemail. He hung up without leaving a message. The next person he phoned, however, did pick up.

Twenty minutes later she arrived. Her face fell when she saw how beaten up he looked.

“Ben!” Sandy exclaimed. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Don’t you mean, who from Hell happened to me?” He explained the events of the previous night to her, glossing over the worst of it.

He’d been given some healing ointments by the Malleus. He wouldn’t scar, but it hadn’t taken care of his wounds overnight.

She touched his face, worry filling her expression. “Honestly. You’re a magnet for trouble, you know that?”

He snorted. “I know.”

“At least you’re okay.”

“For now.”

That earned him a stern glare. “So now what do we do?”

“We wait. At least that’s what I’ve been told.” He frowned. “Do you know of any prisoner at the Malleus who has wings?”

“Wings?”

“With white feathers. And he has red hair and green eyes.”

She seemed distracted by inspecting his wounds. “Sounds like an angel to me.”

His eyes widened. “An angel?”

She nodded. “I’ve never seen one before — not one with wings, anyhow. They’re usually up in Heaven. The earthbound angels who watch the Netherworld gateways temporarily get rid of their wings while they’re here to ensure they’re not damaged.”

Then that was impossible. “Why would the Malleus be holding an angel in a prison cell?”

“They wouldn’t, of course,” Sandy said firmly. “The Malleus fights on the side of light — on the side of angels — against the darkness.”

“You’re right, of course. I guess I was just seeing things.”

“Listen. . Ben, I wanted to talk to you. About. . about what happened yesterday. When you and I. .” She chewed her bottom lip and averted her gaze.

“The kiss?”

“That would be the topic at hand.”

“I think you already established how you felt about that. How it was a mistake and against the rules.” He raised an eyebrow. It hurt a little.

“Yeah, I did say that already, didn’t I?”

“And also how you know how much I care about Eden and my current obsession to save her from demons and other nasty creatures of darkness.”

“So we discussed this already?”

“We did.”

She forced a smile. “Then, well, that’s good. Forget it. Why don’t I just grab some bandages and I can patch you up a bit?”

Ben stood up from the couch. “Sandy, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you like working for the Malleus?”

“Of course. It makes me feel like I’m doing something worthwhile.”

He nodded. “Me, too.”

“And even though they have a lot of rules, it still makes sense.”

“Most of the rules I agree with.”

“Most of them?”

“Yeah. There’s just one I’m finding I’m not too fond of.”

“And which one is—”

She tensed with surprise when he kissed her but didn’t resist. He wondered if he’d forget about everything if he kissed her long enough. If breaking this one rule with Sandy would be enough to make the rest of it make sense.

It was definitely worth a try.

Eden wondered exactly what would be involved in a demon lord awakening.

It didn’t sound like a chance for balloons and streamers, but maybe she was wrong.

She needed that black diamond. The angelheart.

No matter what else happened here today, she had to get her hands on it.

The front door to Luxuria was unlocked when she and Darrak arrived at almost noon. She had to force herself to take each step farther along the hallway leading to the main club. She felt like Dorothy getting ready to approach the Wizard of Oz and ask him for a ticket back to Kansas.

“You okay?” Darrak asked. She was walking so slowly some might consider it standing still.

“Not especially.”

And, as if she needed anything more to deal with at the moment, a wave of pain hit her without warning, almost bringing her to her knees. She cried out. Darrak grabbed hold of her before she fell.

It was gone as quickly as it had arrived. Just a drive-by.

Darrak’s eyes were filled with concern as he helped her steady herself. “We can leave.”

She laughed weakly. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.” His jaw set. “We’ll wait for Maksim to get back from wherever he is. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“No, I’m okay now. This is your chance to get your curse removed. And I don’t get the pain very often. That, hopefully, was my only dose today.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Fine. But when the curse is broken, I want you to leave immediately and don’t look back.”

“Why?”

“When I change. . I can’t guarantee how I’ll act then. Toward you. I don’t know.”

Right. He felt that when the curse was broken, he’d revert back to his old demonic self — no humanity need apply, right?

“So you’ll become dark, dangerous, and not a fabulous conversationalist?” she asked.