He quirked an eyebrow. “Asmodeus wasn’t a mistake, petal. David wanted demon pets. He thought that fathering one would give him an unexpected weapon in the fight against us. He always did think out of the box.”
“He was a hypocrite.” Lila’s lip curled in a sneer. “A man with big appetites and aspirations trying to justify them in a moral righteousness.”
Reeling, I slugged back the rest of my wine. Was this why Mandelbaum was teaming up with the witches? To fulfill David’s crazy idea? Why didn’t anyone else in the Brotherhood know about all this? I had to talk to Rabbi Abrams. “But–”
“One more question.” Lila stared at her hands, her shoulders drooping like my continued harping on the subject had sucked the fight out of her.
“Are you all right?” I said.
Lila’s turn toward me was slow and measured. “You would waste your last question on that?”
When she put it that way, no, but I’d already gotten invaluable information and taking back my concern was too rude, even for me. “Yes.”
“I don’t like reminders of that man. Mahlat was my favorite daughter.”
Whoa. My brain was one more revelation away from imploding. “If you did become a demon, when?” I said this more to myself. “It had to be before David because by the time he came around you’d be…” I counted off years on my fingers.
Lila smacked my hand down. “I have lived for so long that labels are irrelevant.”
The timer went off and Malik walked toward the kitchen. “As you can see, it’s a touchy sub–” He gasped, clawing at his throat.
I winced in sympathy. But better him than me.
“You may have a proper final question,” Lila said.
Malik jerking around, attempting to breathe was distracting. In a funny way, like a cat chasing after a laser pointer. Fireballs spurted off him, his limbs sporadically blurring into flame, but he couldn’t get past the hold that Lila had on him to lock into his protective fire form.
The timer continued to sound, a shrill beep.
Lila was more concerned with spreading the goat cheese onto her cracker than Malik, which was a pretty brutal way to treat a friend, or lover, or whatever he was to her.
I shook my head. “If you were so mad at David, why make the deal at all? Why hand over any magic to those men?”
“Demons still needed killing.” She shot a wry glance at Malik, releasing her hold.
He slumped over, hands braced on the counter, his chest heaving, and swore in Arabic.
I blinked. “But–”
“You had your questions.” Her tone brooked no further argument.
Malik silenced the timer and shut the stove off with a snap of the dial, sliding the pot off the burner. “Tell her, Lila, or I will.”
“I don’t want to talk about him.” The temperature dropped several degrees. Lila half-turned toward Malik.
Malik dissolved into flame. That familiar dancing blaze of gold and orange contained within a human outline with the merest suggestion of a face.
“If the Brotherhood is trying to repeat history?” he said. “Your peaceful isolationism is over.”
“I have survived much. These games mean nothing to me.”
“No? Not even if they carry out David’s plans? If your ex-lover wins even while in the grave?”
Eww. David had slept with both mother and daughter? Tacky.
The floor-to-ceiling window spiderwebbed with cracks. My wine was crystalizing. Shivering, I put the glass down in case it shattered.
It was an unholy showdown. Malik was pure flame. Hot. Bright. Awesome.
Lilith was a deep freeze. Winning in the scary-as-fuck department. She relaxed by degrees: the lowering of her shoulders, the looser clasp of her wine glass. “Like I said. These games mean nothing to me.”
“What games?” I had to say it twice because my vocal chords didn’t want to cooperate.
Malik became flesh again with nary a soot mark on his person or the furniture. Running the water in his sink, he dumped the pasta into a colander. “The deal with David was supposed to be a one-time thing. Get some more warm bodies to help fight us.” He snorted.
I inspected my glass and finding it unbroken after the mini ice storm, finished up my wine. “There’s a ritual to test babies. Initiate the next generation. That doesn’t imply single-use.”
“The ritual was to test David’s adult potentials. To see if they could handle the magic.” Malik took the water out of the colander. “David was a slick talker. He convinced another witch to create the initiation and induction rituals in order to keep the world safe for future generations. Witches are big on that.” He didn’t sound impressed.
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“I like this world. I like my toys and my playmates. Make sure that’s not disturbed.”
“Make sure yourself. Help me.” I looked to Lila to include her in that, but she was gazing out the window, giving no indication she was listening.
Malik laughed and laughed, putting final touches on his sauce while I scowled at him, arms crossed. “Oh. You were serious.”
“Lila.” When she turned, I handed her the gogota finger still purple from the magic signature spell we’d cast. I’d retrieved it from Rabbi Abrams before going off for the painting. “What’s it going to cost me to find out who did this?”
“One night with your lover.”
“You’re not his type,” I said lightly, tamping down a hot flare of “over my dead body.” Who was I kidding? She was everyone’s type.
“You are though. I want to possess your body for one night, habibty.”
“No.”
“Why not? You’re the host. I’m just a passenger allowed to experience your passion.”
That cold calculating part of my brain said to pay her price if it meant answers. The rest of me recoiled.
Lila sipped at her wine, her eyes intent on mine.
“Even if I was willing, which I’m not,” I said, going with my heart and my gut, “he’d never agree.” I didn’t want her knowing me that intimately. Didn’t want her perverting a precious experience.
She stroked a hand over my hair. “He doesn’t get to know.”
“No way. That’s wrong.” I ducked out from her creepy touch and grabbed the gogota finger. It may have been my body, but I wouldn’t be alone and I’d never do that to Ro. I wouldn’t take his choice away.
Malik blocked my route to the door. “Don’t be ridiculous. This is nothing.”
The marid may have appeared as an attractive, civilized man but in the end, he was still a demon and he was old. To him, time and life were an impressionist painting where any of the individual dots failed to matter.
“It’s everything.” Magic erupted out of me. “Now get out of my way or so help me we’ll both find out exactly what I’m capable of.”
Hands up, he let me pass.
15
I sped through the city, hell-bent for the chapter club, white-knuckling the steering wheel. Barely holding myself together from the adrenaline and yeah, fear, still pumping through my system. I’d texted Ro that I was coming back but hadn’t answered his questions on how the delivery had gone.