“I’m an archivist, and I handle all the records for the Council. That includes all grimoires written throughout the ages, all spells and potions, objects of magical means and nature, contained creatures of mysterious origin, etcetera, and so on. I also keep the database on the paranormal nations.”
She paused, bent over, the gorgeous lines of her body playing deep shadows in the folds of the dress at her knees and hips. Mmm, the woman needed to be bent over the end of his bed …
“All of us?” she prompted, whacking him out of the sudden and illicit fantasy of foreplay on his big, comfy bed.
“Witches, werewolves, vampires, demons, familiars, mermaids, trolls, imps, shape-shifters. The whole lot.”
“No faeries?”
“Absolutely not. The sidhe can take care of themselves, and more power to them.”
“That’s quite a monumental task, keeping track of us all.”
“And I do it well.” CJ spread a hand over his gut and cast a glance skyward. Daylight waned due to what he suspected would be rain before evening. A twinge in his elbow confirmed the weather prediction. “That is, when I’ve not a soul full of demons trying to take over my body and fucking with my magic.”
“Are those spell tattoos on your hand?”
“Yes.” He tucked his hand along his torso. “I’ve quite a few all over. You ever hear of Sayne?”
“Yes, he’s an ink witch who travels Europe. I’ve never thought it an effective form of magic.”
“My tattoos are powerful. Much like your grandmother’s nail.”
“Sure.”
He sensed Vika wasn’t warming to him in any way. And why should he care? He only meant to use her to see if another exorcism was possible. And yet, CJ’s interest continued to stray to the woman beneath the sexy gown, and her sure voice and the confident tilt of her head. Tidily gorgeous. Not his type of woman at all.
You don’t have a type, Certainly Jones.
True. But it was high time he got a type. One of the things he realized he’d been missing after his return from Daemonia was a life. A life shared with others. And if on his bed? Hell, yes.
“So, you feel anything?” he prompted.
“No, but you could walk around and help. See if the soul is attracted to you.”
CJ wandered the enclosed area, focusing, eyes closed, to see if he could sense or feel the same brightness he had last night. What he did sense was the demons inside him chuckling and writhing in accusatory glee. Idiot witch, they screamed at him. Just wait until nightfall.
Perhaps by nightfall Vika will have exorcised another demon from him. It had to be possible. He wanted nothing more than freedom from the bastards inside him. And if he needed a stray soul to do so, he’d stand here all day waiting for the little bugger to attach its intangible essence to him.
“So when you’re in the light the demons don’t bother you?” she asked over her shoulder as she strolled along the brick wall blocking in the small parking area.
“Mostly. The incandescent stuff only works for so long. Daylight is iffy when the sky clouds up.” He glanced skyward. Many gray clouds. Should he be here? “A few months ago, I discovered prismatic is the best kind of light to deter demons, keep them back, if you will.”
“And what happens when the demons take over? Do they do it all at once?”
“Fortunately, no. Usually there’s an inner struggle I feel, as if the lot of them are ripping at my insides, and then one comes to the fore. Takes over my very being. I’m aware of what it’s doing and not. Depends on how strong it is. The damned lust demon took me out to a nightclub last month and I ended up—”
Yeah, he wasn’t going to finish that one. He’d never had sex with a dryad before. Wasn’t sure how it had gone down, and he didn’t want to think about it now. At the least, it had broken his dry spell with women. If she had been a woman. Yes, she’d been female. It was too wrong to think any other way.
“So you’re not in control of your body when the demon comes to the fore?”
“Not one hundred percent. It’s different each time. Some are more powerful than others. I can fight the demon, but it looks like I’m spazzing out, and sometimes it’s easier to surrender. I never stray too far from home.”
“Which is where?”
“In the fifth. I live in the DeMarck Building.”
“I know that place. Gorgeous iridescent tile work on the outside?”
“That’s the one.”
“You said it’s been six months since you returned from … that place?”
She didn’t want to speak the name Daemonia? Probably for the better. Smart woman.
“Yes. I do have one good demon in me, though. It’s a protection demon. I let that one out because it has a tendency to paint protection sigils on the walls and floors of my home. Haven’t noticed they’d done much good, though. They’re wearing me down.” He stopped and put his head into his hands. “It’s getting so hard, and I’m tired. I want them gone.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have gone into the place of all demons in the first place. Why did you go there, and what did you do? You must have pissed off someone or something, or apparently, a whole host of demonic somethings. Whatever it was, you probably deserve the punishment.”
“I don’t need the admonishment right now.’’
But she was right; he deserved any bad karma coming to him because of what he’d done. But as long as he’d gotten there before Ian Grim, that was all that mattered.
It was always about Grim.
“I’m sorry, I— Well, no,” Vika said. “It’s what I feel. A guy goes into the place of all demons, he’s got to expect retribution.”
“Do you always follow the rules, Vika? Live by the book? Make sure your life is as clean as it can possibly be, from outside to soul?”
She lifted an indignant chin and nodded minutely.
“You ever have any fun?”
“Of course I do.” She cast him a glance through her lashes, which stirred CJ’s passions again. “But I suspect my idea of fun and your idea of fun are vastly different.”
“I suspect so. We’re very different souls.”
“That’s no understatement,” she agreed.
He gave his arms a waver across his chest. “Not feeling anything.”
“You haven’t gone over there.” She pointed toward the end of the hearse. “You know, there are other methods to casting out demons.”
“Tried them all. Even ventured into a Catholic church and had the priest lay his hands on me. I suspect he got frightened when the chaos demon starting chewing on his cross. I was spitting out marble for hours after that one. Think I chipped a molar.”
“So the demons inside you are impervious to exorcism? That’s remarkable. I’ve never heard of that.”
“I suspect because there’s a whole gang of them inside me. They’re not particularly friends, but I think they band together to hold the fort, if you know what I mean.”
