Lilith Saintcrow: Heaven's Spite

I let out a sigh that was only half annoyance. It had taken me the whole trip down here to come up with what I should do instead of what I wanted to do. “I’m not going to do anything . Perry wants me down at the Monde. That’s one place I’m not going. I have the Talisman, fine. It was mine in the first place, Belisa stole it, I’m not goddamn going to dance to his tune and come asking questions.”

“Unless that’s what he expects, you avoiding him.”

Good point.

I snorted. Then shut my mouth, because Theron was back, setting two cold bottles of beer down for me, one dark microbrew for Saul, and a plate of cheese blintzes and hash browns, with a small dish of fresh strawberries on the side for my apprentice. That was worth a raised eyebrow, but Saul’s twitch of a smile told me the Weres here were feeding Gilberto what they thought he should be eating, not anything he’d order.

Gilberto opened his eyes, stared at his plate, and shut his mouth before a word could escape.

He caught on quick.

Theron paused, dangling his tray in long, expressive fingers. “Other food’ll be just a second. You want some water or something?”

Another peace offering. Was I really looking that temperamental tonight?

I shook my head, watching my fingers against the tabletop. Bitten-down nails, tendons standing out under fishbelly-white skin—I don’t tan, I’m never up during the day—and a healing scrape across my left knuckles. The skin was repairing itself as I watched, the scar on my right wrist humming a dissatisfied little song. “No thanks.” My lips felt a little numb, and the Eye was warm against my chest.

It was surreal. I never thought I’d be wearing Mikhail’s greatest treasure. Not even while he was training me and saying, Some day this will be yours. I’d never thought that far ahead.

He’d seemed eternal to me. I guess your parents—or those you choose as your parents—always do. Until they’re not.

Theron lingered a little longer, then left as one of the cooks swore. There was a hiss of something hitting the grill, and I looked up to find Saul watching me.

“ Chingada ,” Gilberto mumbled. “No frijoles .”

The laugh caught me by surprise. I bit it in half, swallowed it, and Saul’s expression went from thoughtful to outright concerned.

“Do you think…” he began, but left the sentence hanging.

“I think I’m safer staying out of the Monde.” Each word carefully held back from a sharp edge. “I think whatever Perry expects me to do, me ignoring this is not in his plan. Therefore, I am going to do what is not in his plan.”

Saul nodded. Thought it over. “And the fact that he’s fooling around with the Sorrows again?”

I took a long pull off one of my beer bottles. It hit the spot. There’s nothing quite like a beer to bolster you in a situation like this. “That’s why you’re taking my apprentice to Galina’s.”

“Oh, man,” aforesaid apprentice piped up. “ Again? She just makes me take care of her plants.”

“You have to be alive to be trained, Gil. And if the Sorrows grab you, you’ll wish very hard you were dead.” I kept my gaze steady, locked with Saul’s.

My Were’s dark eyes did not waver. “Where should I meet you after that?” Careful, tactful, and to the point.

In other words, You’re not leaving me behind, Jill. Don’t even think about it.

“I’m going to be visiting the son of a bitch who Traded with Watling.” I set the bottle down with a click. Bacon was frying, and it smelled good. “I want that sewn up tonight.”

But I didn’t tell him where, even though I knew. I couldn’t say what I suspected, but I did know I wanted Saul nowhere near where I was going tonight. Full ’breed nightclubs aren’t healthy for Weres.

A short, sharp nod, his hair falling across his forehead. It had grown out, and he could tie charms to match mine in it now. A silver wheel gleamed near his left ear, knotted in with red thread. “So I’ll just follow the screaming.”

“Unless she decide to blow something up, man. Then you can follow the fire and screaming.” Gilberto was looking down when I glanced at him, my mouth set in a straight line. He forked up a gigantic mouthful of hash browns, his arm curled around the plate. Shielding it.

I decided I wouldn’t really take him to task, because it was true. “Gil, poquito , the adults are talking. Cierra el pico .”

He mumbled something impolite. I let it go. Picked up the bottle again and drained it. It went down easy, but it didn’t quite get rid of the bitter taste in my mouth.

Saul tapped once on the tabletop, twice. Thinking. “I don’t like this. It’s not like one of his kind to give anything away.”

“He needs something out of me, or he has a plan.” I shrugged. Silver in my hair jangled a bit, restless. “Like every single other time he has a plan or wants something out of me. He’ll have to deal with disappointment.”

We looked at each other, Saul and I, and both of us knew it was pure bravado. I hadn’t gone over the edge yet, even with Perry pushing and cajoling. I’d stood there and watched the abyss yawn right next to my toes, and the only thing that kept me from going down into damnation was…

… what?

Was sitting right across from me, playing with his beer bottle and looking worried, the way a Were almost never looked worried.

They don’t usually date hunters. And I was helltainted to boot. We were an exception all over, Saul and me.

I slid out of the booth, pushed myself upright. “Get to Galina’s. If all else fails I’ll see you at home, at dawn.” A judicious pause. “There’s a mess there. Sorry about that.”

“Jill—”

I shook my head. Silver clashed and chimed. A small sickle-shaped charm dangled in front of my eye for a moment, I tossed it back. “Got work to do, Saul. Depending on you to get my apprentice under cover. My instincts are tingling.”

“I hear they have a cream for that. Jill—”

“The cream’s for burning. Not for an unpleasant tingle. Give my apologies to Theron.” I turned, sharply, and strode away. Made it outside without anything else happening, and let out a deep, dissatisfied breath. It was rude to leave before they fed me, but the night was wearing away and I wanted to get this wrapped up.

The Talisman’s warm weight against my chest throbbed like a second heartbeat. Sooner or later Perry would come back, and I’d find out what he was dabbling in now.

But that didn’t mean I couldn’t question other hellbreed. And I knew exactly where to start.

With the hellspawn who was eyeing the number two position in Santa Luz’s ’breed hierarchy. Who just happened to be the same spawn who had Traded with Trevor Watling.

What a coincidence.

T he Kat Klub was closed for good, Shen An Dua—the ’breed who ran it—dead in a stinking cellar room way back last year. But hellspawn are like pimps. There’s always someone lower on the food chain willing to step up, if profit’s to be had.

Down at First and Alohambra the granite bulk of the Piers Tower rises, one of the oldest skyscrapers in Santa Luz. Mikhail told me once that the property had been a mission long ago—before the town got big enough to attract hellbreed.

In other words, back when it was just the mission and a couple of chicken coops. And maybe a pig trough if the padres were lucky.

A gaudy sign shouting UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT had glared across the street for a couple weeks while the infighting went on. When the dust settled, I’d walked in and found that bastard Rutger supervising a small horde of contractors.