“Good idea.” I pulled the dampening charm off and handed it to her. “Thanks for the loan, but I don’t think it worked.”
She nodded as she took it, her green eyes riveted to the street, where evidence of the charm’s failure was currently fighting our friends. Claire was wiping her blade off on a fallen demon’s shirt, and Roarke had just broken the last demon’s neck. His face was impassive, businesslike. It was clear that he didn’t like the killing part of his job, but he was good at it.
But that would be my life if I didn’t learn to control my power, which was growing and changing like crazy. Demons on my tail all the time and me relying on people to kill them for me.
The worst.
On the street, Roarke gestured to Claire and the door. She nodded and turned toward P & P, making her way inside.
“Thanks for handling that!” I called as I kept my gaze on Roarke.
He stood over the bodies, no doubt waiting for them to disappear back to the Underworld. They faded away to nothingness in record time, then he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed. As he was talking, a sleek black car pulled up to the curb. I caught sight of the government license plate and my heart began to pound just as Cass cursed.
“Order of the Magica. Fuck.” She glanced around, clearly considering bolting for it.
It wasn’t a bad idea.
But the man was out of the car and nearly at the door in a heartbeat. Had Roarke called him? But no. Roarke was staring at his back, wariness on his face. He hadn’t called the Magica.
“Just repress your signature,” Nix said. “We’ll be fine.”
Cass nodded, her eyes still slightly wide. She was good at controlling her magical signature now, but her memory of being in the Order prison was still clearly front and center. Nix and I had always been good at keeping our species on the down-low, but even we got nervous around Order members and avoided them at all costs.
We all sat and tried to act casual, each of us focusing on keeping our magic tight to ourselves.
As the man walked into the cafe, his magic rolled out from him like a wave. His power smelled of the ocean and felt like vibrations against my skin. I shifted, uncomfortable and suddenly aware of my still-damp clothing. At least Roarke’s sweater made me look normal.
We were sitting here, still as statues, and that was totally not normal.
I caught Cass’s gaze and asked, “You want to see that new animated movie this weekend?”
Cass gave me the stink face—she wasn’t a fan of cartoons like I was—then nodded. “Yeah, I could totally go watch a bunny cop beat up on some carnivores.”
I kept the edge of my gaze on the Order member as he walked across the cafe. He glanced over at us, his bruiser’s face out of place against his neatly tailored suit. Something like confusion—or suspicion—flashed in his eyes, and my skin chilled.
I rushed to make conversation. Act normal. “You’ll love it.”
My shoulders relaxed slightly when he kept on moving to the counter.
“I’m in.” Nix raised her hand. “I love bunny cops.”
Nix was like me—all for the cartoons. The guy talked to Claire as Nix recounted the basic plot of the movie. Though I strained to hear what he said, I got nothing. Just indistinct chatter.
But I did see Claire’s face pale. She tried to play it off, but I couldn’t tell if the Order guy bought it.
A moment later, Roarke stepped into the cafe, his long strides eating up the floor. He sat next to me, his gaze riveted to the back of the Order member.
“You know him?” I whispered.
He nodded once, sharply. “An Order Enforcer.”
My throat dried. “Enforcer?”
“Yeah. Makes sure the rules are followed.”
I knew what an Enforcer was. Anyone who broke the law—which I did just by existing—knew what an Enforcer was. As the man turned and left, I couldn’t shake the chills. He glanced at us once more before leaving, that same weird expression on his face.
As soon as he was out the door, I asked Roarke, “He didn’t recognize you?”
“No. Never met him. I only recognized him by the plates on his car. Enforcer plates end in EX.”
Great. If he hadn’t recognized Roarke, it would’ve been me getting his weird look.
Claire hurried toward us, her face pale. She sat in the seat nearest us and leaned in. “There’s a problem. And it might have to do with you.”
My stomach pitched. “Oh, fates.”
“That was Orson Reyes, my handler—the one who gives me jobs on the Order’s behalf.”
“In person?” I only received assignments by phone or email. It was one of the perks of the job. But then, I was more part-time than Claire.
“It’s a top priority case. Orson’s a Sensor Mage with a specialty in demon magic. He’s gotten wind of a disturbance in the demon power sphere. It’s never happened before.”
Sensor Mages were well hooked into the invisible magical power grid that overlaid earth. They could sense different types of power. If Orson could sense demon power, was that why he’d looked at me funny? Did he know I possessed some?
“What the hell do you mean?” Roarke asked.
“A demon has died, but his power hasn’t disappeared from Earth. Orson thinks the demon’s power may have been put into an artifact.”
I nodded. That wasn’t uncommon. Our whole business at Ancient Magic dealt with spells and magic that had been imbued into artifacts.
“He wants me to figure out what exactly is going on and take care of it. Orson doesn’t like to get his hands dirty—that’s why he’s a handler and not a merc. But this way, he’d get credit with the Order for identifying and stopping the problem.” Claire looked at Roarke. “I bet that’s why they haven’t contacted you yet.”
Though Roarke was Warden of the Underworld and responsible for keeping the peace in the various heavens and hells, it wasn’t his job to keep track of all the demons who escaped onto Earth. There were just too many—and most were small potatoes. The Order’s mercenaries and bounty hunters—like me and Claire—usually took care of wayward demons. Roarke only handled the big guns. And this didn’t sound like one of those.
Yet.
“So what’s the deal?” I asked. “What does this have to do with me?”
“That’s the problem. Orson thinks it’s a Cat 5 demon’s power that’s running loose. An Ubilaz demon’s power, specifically. He can sense that the demon is gone, but his power isn’t.” She glanced out the window to where the three demons had appeared only ten minutes ago. “And you’re attracting demons, right? So I can only assume that Orson is wrong. The power isn’t in an artifact. It’s in you.”
My heart plummeted to my stomach.
Damn, she was smart. I’d only just figured it out myself, and she’d put the pieces together without even hearing my whole story.