and heavy spilling from my gutted midsection before coiling like scarlet snakes beside me . . .
I blinked, banishing the memory of that torture and murder before hundreds more came to replace it. Dagon had used my ability to resurrect as the foundation for his own worship, claiming he’d been the one to raise me from the dead. For the first two decades of my life, I’d believed him. He’d murdered me over and over to gain power for himself, and I’d worshipped him for it.
Out of all the cruelties Dagon had inflicted on me, that was the most unforgivable.
“I don’t know your height or weight because this image of a slip of a girl with blue eyes and yellow hair isn’t the real you.” Ashael all but purred at me.
I dropped my glamour. That was the least of my secrets now. My long silver-blue-and-gold hair streamed down my back as my body filled out until it strained the jeans I wore. My sweater had been bulky to help ward off the cold temperatures, so that still fit comfortably, at least.
Ashael’s gaze raked me with a thoroughness that made Ian’s scent sharpen with anger. Good, I thought crossly. I still wasn’t over the stunt he’d pulled with the waitress yet.
“Stunning,” the demon drew out.
“Impatient,” I countered. “Do we have a deal or not?”
Ashael waved away Mao, then waited until she closed the screened door behind her before he spoke. Guess his trust of her had its limits. “Meet my terms, and we might,” Ashael replied.
“Greed is natural for demons, but do try to restrain yourself,” Ian said mildly. “Dagon’s death is all you’ll get.”
Ashael shrugged. “You’re going to kill Dagon anyway, so that’s no incentive for me. But there is an ancient relic I’m interested in. Fetch it for me, and we have a deal.”
Ian eyed him with all the wariness I felt. “Prove to me you can deliver us to Yonah first.”
Ashael dumped the contents of his teacup onto the platter. Then he used his fingernail to slice open his wrist. When the cup was full of his blood, Ashael closed his eyes. He didn’t speak, nor did his hands move, but magic flowed out until it made my skin crawl. When it crested, Ashael opened his eyes.
His blood rose from the cup, stretching to form the head of a middle-aged bald man with a Roman nose and deep-set eyes. When that head turned to see all three of us and his expression showed surprise, I realized the creation wasn’t merely a magic-infused molding. This was a blood-coated conference call.
“Yonah,” Ashael said to the head in Aramaic when he turned back to him. “I might be sending two sojourners to you.”
Yonah looked back at Ian and me. “Are these the sojourners?”
Ashael flashed a cold grin our way. “If they meet my test.”
Ian moved until he was facing the head. “If this is the true Yonah,” he said, also in Aramaic, “tell me the name of the red-haired demon-branded bloke who met you a few years ago inquiring about refuge.”
“Nathanial,” Yonah replied at once.
Ian nodded as if satisfied. “Tell me about this relic,” he said to Ashael.
The blood-formed head turned back into liquid that splashed down onto the platter. It reminded me that I was hungry, not that I’d feed from demon blood. Aside from my repugnance for their species, demon blood was also a vampire inebriant.
“It’s an ancient horn,” Ashael replied. “Guarded, of course, though the guards are vampires, so it should be easy for you to get past them. That’s why you’re going alone, Ian.”
“Like hell he is,” I said at once.
Ashael sighed. “Ariel—”
“Veritas.” My voice was sharp. “I don’t know how you heard that other name, but I don’t answer to it.”
Ashael inclined his head. “Veritas, then. You might not like this condition, but it’s nonnegotiable. Besides, with the added benefit of Dagon’s power, Ian should have little trouble overcoming half a dozen or so vampire guards.”
Ian’s expression didn’t change, but he was still holding my hand, so I felt his temperature rise a notch. “See that, do you?” he asked in a careless tone. “Didn’t know your powers included spotting evidence of a demon brand.”
Ashael smiled. “You’re not branded by Dagon anymore. Somehow, you have his power another way.”
Ian’s temperature spiked again; something that wouldn’t be possible for a normal vampire, but Ashael had just confirmed he knew Ian wasn’t normal. More significant, Ashael confirmed that a demon’s power signature was as unique as we’d hoped.