I shivered in the cool air, still wet from Lake Laberge, but I couldn’t take my wet jacket off until the healer fixed up my arm. I’d rather be cold than pry the melted leather away from my burned skin.
“I’m headed to P & P.” I turned and started down the street towards Potions & Pastilles, our favorite hangout place. “Cass and Nix will be there.”
Roarke jogged to catch up, a small duffle bag clutched in his hand.
“Change of clothes?”
He nodded. “I’ve learned that I’ll need them when I’m with you.”
I grinned. “Smart.”
A warm golden glow spilled out of the windows of P & P, welcoming me to my home away from home. I reached for the door, but Roarke’s hand appeared over my head and pushed it open, holding it so that I could enter. I ducked inside the warm, coffee-scented space, some of my fear evaporating away at the sight of Cass and Nix seated in our usual spot—the corner with the comfy chairs. Together, we could handle this. Totally.
Right?
“What the heck happened to you?” Cass asked.
Nix’s eyebrows shot up. “You look like hell.”
“Feel like it, too.” I approached the corner, weaving through the small, packed tables. It was Friday night, and as such, P & P was hopping with the weekend evening crowd. Connor and Claire, our friends who owned the place, sold whiskey and beer in the evenings.
Cass and Nix rose as I approached, concern on their faces. Aidan, Cass’s shifter boyfriend, approached from the bar, carrying a couple of drinks. He was as tall as Roarke, but he looked friendlier. Still a bit scary, considering how powerful his magic was, but he didn’t have Roarke’s Underworld air.
Aidan’s gaze dropped to my arm. “You all right?”
“Splendid.”
“Need a healer?” He handed Cass a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon, her beer of choice, and passed a wine glass over to Nix.
Roarke joined me. “One is coming.”
The door opened behind me and I turned. A small woman entered, clearly a demon from the sight of her two small horns.
“You’ve brought demons in my shop?” a voice asked from behind me.
I grinned, recognizing my friend Claire’s British accent, and turned to see her approaching. Her apron covered ratty jeans and a T-shirt instead of her fighting leathers, which meant she was on P & P duty instead of demon-killing duty. She was a part-time mercenary like me and wouldn’t take kindly to demons just wandering around. It was illegal for them to roam the earth freely, primarily because they were shit at keeping supernaturals’ existence a secret from humans. Though it wasn’t technically Claire’s or my job to take care of random demons roaming the street—we worked on contract—but us ignoring the demon was a bit like a doctor ignoring a heart attack victim.
“She’s a healer,” Roarke said. “Here on my authority.”
I glanced around. Patrons were turning to look, but no one said anything. Roarke’s voice carried, and even though these folks might not know he was Warden of the Underworld and it was technically within his rights to bring a demon here, it didn’t matter. It was clear he had the matter under control and wasn’t one to be messed with.
The small demon approached. Besides the tiny horns and the gray cast to her skin, she looked human. She even wore the flannel and jeans so common in this part of Oregon.
“What are we dealing with?” The tone of her voice was so deep that she sounded like the rumble of a truck’s engine.
My brows shot up. Okay. So her similarity to humans ended with her looks.
Roarke nodded at me, and the demon turned to look, her expression inscrutable. Her magic glowed around her like a halo of pale gray light. She approached.
“Thanks for coming,” I said.
“Don’t thank me yet.” She nodded for me to raise my arm.
I grimaced and obliged, standing patiently while she hovered her hands over my arm. Her magic glowed brighter, and the pain flared, an uncomfortable reminder of my mortality despite the fact I could turn into a Phantom.
And come back from the dead.
So was I mortal?
A week ago, I’d escaped the Underworld after dying from a sword blow. That wasn’t exactly normal.
After a moment, the pain faded. I risked a glance at my arm, relieved to see the reddened skin returning to its normal pale shade. The burned leather flaked off, drifting to the floor.
I met Claire’s gaze. “Sorry about that.”
She shrugged. “Floor’s seen worse. You want something to eat? A drink?”
“The usual, please. You’re an absolute lifesaver.”
She grinned and headed to the kitchen.
The demon stepped back and dusted her hands off. “That’s it. You’re good to go.”
I met her gray gaze. “Thank you.”
She jerked her head back toward Roarke. “Thank him. I ain’t cheap.”
“Ah.” I met his gaze. “Thanks.”
He nodded, then looked at the demon. “Walk you out?”
“Yep.” She followed him out the door.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Nix demanded, “So how’s it going with him?”
“You asked me that this morning, right before I left. Nothing has changed. He’s still distant. Doesn’t talk much. Touches me only when necessary. But he sticks around to help. Makes me nervous.”
“Stay nervous,” Nix said. She was always the cautious one. “He knows what you are and is technically supposed to take you back to the Underworld. I know he’s been helping you, but you’ve got to play it safe.”
She was right. This wasn’t just about me being moony over a guy I liked. It was a matter of my freedom and safety. If he wasn’t such a huge potential threat, I wouldn’t be so worried.
“Nah, he’s cool. He’s got a major thing for her.” Cass hiked her thumb at me. “Hasn’t left her side since she escaped the Underworld.”
“That’s his job,” Nix said.
Cass turned to face Nix fully. “No, his job was to bring her back. But he didn’t. He’s letting her stay here.”
Nix opened her mouth as if they were just getting started. I didn’t have time for that.
“Guys, I have a problem.”
Both their heads swiveled to look at me.
“I think I’ve stolen the Ubilaz demon’s power.” I pitched my voice low so the other patrons couldn’t hear.
“What?” Cass nearly shrieked the word.
So much for keeping this quiet.
I gestured to the chairs. “Take a seat. Let’s pretend we’re normal.”
We sat just as Claire returned with a slice of veggie quiche and a mug of boxed wine she kept especially for me.
I took them. “Thank you so much.”
“No problem. Let me know if you need anything.” She nodded back toward the bar. “I’ll be busy with this group, but just shout.”
I grinned and nodded as Cass and Nix leaned forward.
“Spill,” Cass said.
I gazed forlornly at the quiche on my plate, then met her gaze. “So yeah, demons are following me like they follow the Ubilaz. One of them called me an abomination and a power stealer. He seemed pissed that I’d stolen the Ubilaz’s power and wanted to kill me for it. And I may have stolen an ice demon’s gift for throwing icicles.”
Nix’s brows jumped up. “You, uh, did the FireSoul thing? You sure that was smart?”
“I didn’t mean to! I don’t want to have a bunch of demons appearing on my ass.”