in the cell with the tiny window on the door. Ben had been staring at that cell for almost ten minutes now.
Ben had quickly realized that the Malleus had a bit of a dark side. To say the least.
But why were they holding an angel prisoner? There had to be a solid reason, something that he could understand.
He needed answers.
Not that he could do a damn thing about it, even if he wanted to. He’d signed over his body and soul when he’d accepted the job offer here. He’d tendered his resignation as a cop nearly two weeks ago and had been faced with questions he couldn’t answer. For better or for worse, he was a civilian now. One who worked for the Malleus—Latin for the hammer.
There was really only one thing that made this place remotely tolerable. Ben had met a woman named Sandy Matthews, a gray witch. He’d hoped she’d be able to help him forget someone else—a woman named Eden. So far, however, it hadn’t worked all that well.
Eden was the main reason Ben had signed up as a Malleus member. She’d helped him see that the world didn’t only contain criminals to lock up, but evil monsters as well. And, when the going got tough, Eden had chosen one of those monsters over him.
Things like that weren’t too good for a guy’s ego.
Ben had been told by his superiors to keep a close watch on Eden and her demon. His boss, Oliver Gale, had plans that had something to do with both of them, but he wasn’t exactly all that forthcoming with the details.
Damn it, he needed answers about that angel. It was driving him crazy.
The Malleus worked as a “need to know” organization. If Ben didn’t need to know something, he wasn’t told. But this was different. For his own peace of mind, he had to know the truth. Oliver was the leader here, the one who’d personally branded Ben’s forearm with the fleur-de-lis symbol that, along with the ritual that went along with it, gave him the ability to sense those who are Other and the extra strength needed to fight against them.
The pay wasn’t bad, either.
It was too late to change his mind now. He’d been told that once you were a member of the Malleus the only way out was death.
He really should have read the fine print first.
“Hey, Ken doll,” a female voice called out to him from the tiny window on a cell to his left. “Come here. I need to talk to you.”
“Ken doll?” he repeated.
“You’re blond, tan, and perfect. It’s as good a name as any.”
He glanced in the direction of her smooth voice. He couldn’t see anything but dark skin and dark eyes glittering from the other side of the window. The cell itself wasn’t lit.
“What do you want?” he asked warily. The Malleus dungeon was filled with evil creatures who were locked up until their ultimate fates could be decided.
“You have to help me. I shouldn’t be here.”
“If you’re in there it’s for a good reason, honey.”
Her almond-shaped eyes narrowed. “Wrong place, wrong time, that’s the only reason for this.”
“Are you human?”
“Well . . .” She hesitated. “Not exactly.”
“Then you’re exactly where you need to be.”
“Nice attitude,” the woman called after him as he started walking again. “That’ll get you far, asshole.”
“Nice talking to you.”
Her tone turned desperate. “Wait! They’re going to kill me. You know that, right? You need to do something!”
Ben’s pace slowed and his mouth went dry. “If you want help, you’re asking the wrong guy.”
He was followed only by silence as his footsteps echoed along the long hall.
He took the stairs to the top floor and came to a halt just outside of Oliver Gale’s office when he heard Sandy’s familiar voice. Ben hadn’t even known she’d be in the office today.
“—won’t be much longer,” she said.
“And you don’t have any new intel?”
“No, I think I need to—”
“What you need to do is focus on your assignment,” Oliver hissed.
Ben tensed. Oliver had been rough with Sandy before, given her a black eye when she’d done something he didn’t approve of. It had taken everything inside of Ben not to beat the shit out of the old man, but raising a hand in violence against one of the Malleus elders would have resulted in Sandy—and himself—being reprimanded in a much stronger and more unpleasant manner.
“The problem with Ben”—oddly, Sandy’s voice held none of the timidity Ben was accustomed to hearing—“is what you see