Cipher (Demonica Underworld #8) - Larissa Ione Page 0,40
hello, did you think about the consequences of ruining a Primori before you did it? Or were you bent on your own self-gratification or self-destructiveness?”
“Touché,” he muttered. “But in my defense, I never said I wasn’t a hypocrite.” That coaxed a smile from her, but it was distant. He’d touched a nerve. Maddox insisted that was the best time to keep pressing for information. Cipher had always found the opposite to be true, but hey, he’d give it another shot. “So, this is off topic, but what did Flail mean when she said you couldn’t set wards?”
“Nothing,” she said with a jerky shrug. “It’s just not my skill set.”
Seemed odd. Wards were the most basic kind of conjuration there were. Sure, he didn’t know how to set one, but that was because he’d only had access to his fallen angel powers for a day. He should have a firm grasp on them within another day or two. Lyre should have obtained the knowledge years ago.
“So how’s your progress?” She jumped to her feet. Clearly, she was ready to talk about something else. “Were you able to delete any of the code?” When he shook his head, she cocked hers and asked, “Can you touch it?”
“I tried earlier. My hand passed through it.” He suddenly remembered how he used to manipulate 3-D programs in Heaven, and an idea came to him. “But maybe I don’t need to touch them.”
His wings quivered as he summoned energy to his fingertips and reached out as if trying to swat at a group of characters. They vibrated, and he held his breath as he tried again, harder this time.
Yes!
Three numbers and a demonic glyph spun away from the main group and hung in the air. Refocusing his objective from manipulating symbols to obliterating them, he pointed at each line of code and watched as they broke apart and dissolved into sparkly glitter.
“I did it!”
Lyre sat up straight. “We have the internet in here now?”
He blasted the last remaining lines of code. “We should.” He turned to his computer and searched for a connection. When the signal lit up, he let out a whoop. “We have active demonweb, baby.”
Excited, hopeful for the first time in months, he went straight for his private inbox. Junk. Junk. More junk.
And an email from Hawk, dated seven months ago.
We’re looking for you.
That was all. Four words. But those four words meant everything.
Another one from Hawk, dated six months ago.
We’re looking for you.
There were more, one each month, ensuring he’d know they hadn’t given up. But it was the most recent one that had his heart pumping a mile a minute.
We found you. Flip the bedora gateway switch.
He grinned like a lunatic. Hawkyn and Journey had hacked into Bael’s private network and given Cipher a way to shut down his security system. Cipher just had to access it.
“Um...Cipher? What’s going on?”
He looked up, alarmed by the urgency in Lyre’s voice. The walls, once opaque, were growing transparent, and suddenly a klaxon rang out.
The code...oh, damn, oh, shit!
“I missed the failsafe.” How could he have been so stupid?
“What?”
His fingers flew over the keyboard. He had to get a message out. Fast. “There was code in the spell that triggers an alarm if the spell is broken.”
The door burst open, and armored guards, their weapons drawn, spilled inside.
He. Was. Fucked.
Chapter Fifteen
Lilliana smiled into her laptop’s camera as her friend Cara held up baby Aleka. “I know I’ve only been back in Sheoul-gra for a couple of days, but I swear she’s grown.”
Cara cradled the infant, swaddled in a blanket made from the golden wool of Heavenly sheep, in the crook of her arm as she tenderly stroked her rosy cheek. “I think so too.”
Longing stirred in Lilliana’s chest as she smoothed her palm over her belly. She couldn’t wait to hold her own child in her arms. Only a month to go. She and Cara had conceived within days of each other, but as an angel Lilliana had an extra four to five weeks of gestation.
“Well, you both look amazing,” she said. “I’m so glad you got a chance to call.”
“I just wish you were here.” Cara sighed. “I miss having you around. Maleficent misses you too. She’s been searching the island for you, and she won’t stop whining.”
Guilt and sorrow made Lilliana’s heart clench. Poor Mal must feel so abandoned. “Maybe you should send her here. I’m sure Azagoth will be okay with it. It’s not like hellhounds don’t haunt the Inner