“Yes, and we wouldn’t want that,” Casanova muttered.
“No, you wouldn’t,” she said seriously. “You’re in no danger, Carlos. But if I am discovered, the master may well revoke my rights to any more time on earth. He feels it has been unfairly extended as it is.”
“I don’t see why,” I said, grabbing the reins of the camel thing. It seemed to like Casanova. Or his hair, anyway. It kept trying to eat it.
“To avoid overfarming earth, the demon lords made an agreement,” she reminded me. “Only a set number of each of our races is allowed on earth at one time. We have to take turns.”
“But you’re still on yours. Aren’t you allowed three hosts?”
“Yes.” She shot a sideways look at Casanova, who was reacting typically to the camel-slobber cowlick he’d just been graced with. “But I do not think anyone expected me to find an immortal for my last host. I should have been forced to return centuries ago.”
“But, technically, you aren’t breaking any rules.”
“I am now,” she said quietly as we merged back into the ragged line of similar groups all heading in the same direction.
I was actually grateful for them, since the “road” was invisible as far as I could see, just endless miles of reddish clay baked into giant cracked plates by the parching sun. Only an occasional dried-up twig of a tree poking out of one of the cracks broke the monotony, along with the scattered line of travelers, all going in more or less the same direction. Mother had neglected to mention that the main court of the incubi was a damned long way from the portal we’d passed through to get here.
Of course, that wouldn’t normally have been a problem. Rian could shift into and out of the demon world the same way I could shift across the human. But the demon lords were paranoid of one another and closely guarded their main courts, and Rosier had just increased the security on his from tight to maniacal. So no shifting. She’d had to go through the incubus version of the TSA in order to get home, just like every other demon.
Luckily, our group didn’t include any other demons. And as far as the guards at the gate had been concerned, that meant we basically counted as the in-flight meal. Of course, that begged the question of how, exactly, we were going to get out when our group did include another demon, and one on the top of the “no fly” list.
Damn, I hoped Mom had been right.
“Who are all these people?” Caleb asked, watching the passersby.
They weren’t as interesting as I’d expected, at least what I could see. A lot of them were muffled up as much as we were, against the overhead glare and the intermittent gusts of wind that whipped fine sand into every available orifice. But they looked vaguely human, at least most of them, a bunch of tattered, hungry-looking types in dusty rags.
Or rather, those on foot like us were. But every once in a while, a clatter of hooves and a miniature dust cloud announced the passage of more prosperous-looking individuals, in fine, loose robes to protect them from the sun. I couldn’t see much of them, either, since both men and women had veils hanging from turbans or other head coverings, probably to try to cut down on the amount of rose-colored dust they breathed in. But there were glimpses of bright-colored silks underneath their outer robes, and they rode in comfortable-looking carts.
Rian glanced around disinterestedly. “Servants, or those who would be so. Traders—the few who can be trusted. The people of this world returning home after journeys elsewhere . . ”
“People of this world?” Caleb looked confused.
“There are many hells,” she told him. “It is merely a term for worlds in this dimension. Kazallu is one; earth is another.”
“Bullshit. We do not live in hell!”
“Speak for yourself,” Casanova said, limping from what turned out to be a rock in his shoe.
“A hell,” Rian said, unperturbed. “When we found this one, eons ago, the people on it were . . . primitive, few in number, dying of disease, famine, war. We took control and helped them.”
“Fed on them, you mean,” Caleb interjected.
“To an extent. But they are not very . . . nutritious? They provide a subsistence, nothing more. That is why our time on earth is so prized. In a few years there, we amass power that would take centuries here.”
“So we’re cattle to you,” Caleb said, as if she’d just confirmed something long suspected.
Rian shot him a flirtatious glance. “Prized cattle, surely.”
“Oh, stop it,” Casanova said irritably. “She’s just teasing you,” he added to Caleb, making me blink.
I looked at Rian, but her violet-dusted lids were lowered, the long lashes shading her high cheekbones. And then back at Casanova. And then I wondered how a predator didn’t notice when he met a greater one.
But I didn’t say anything, and neither did she, being busy pulling a veil across the bottom of her face and turning away slightly, as another vehicle approached ours.
This one was different, a sporty two-wheeler, almost like a chariot, and driven like one, too. I didn’t have to ask who it belonged to; Rian’s reaction was enough. The incubus-possessed driver hadn’t bothered with an outer cloak like everyone else. Instead, he wore a fine, thin red silk robe embroidered with gold that flashed in the light as he all but ran us down, scattering us lesser beings to either side as he thundered past.
“Son of a—why couldn’t we get one of those?” Casanova demanded.
“They’re restricted to the Danim, those hosting an incubus,” Rian told him. “It would attract too much at
tention.”
“And my bloody feet won’t?”
“If it could cost you so much, why are you helping us?” Caleb asked her, eyes narrowed.
“Shouldn’t you have asked that before we got here?” Casanova demanded.
“I’m asking now.”
“The feud between John and his father is tearing the family apart,” Rian told him. “Among other things, it is making the master look weak. Some have begun to say, if he cannot control his own son, perhaps he should not be the one to control the family—and that is dangerous.”
“Who else would do it?”
“As at any court, ours has factions, senior demons and their followers, who constantly vie with each other for advantage. Rosier himself is usually above such squabbles, but John is his weak point and everyone knows it. And as with all who hold power, he has enemies.”
“Imagine that,” Casanova said poisonously. “And such a pleasant creature.”
“He is better than those who would replace him,” Rian said, more sharply.
“When you said this was tearing the family apart, does that mean some are taking Pritkin’s side?” I asked hopefully. Because we could use more friends.
But of course not.
“No. No one understands his reluctance to feed. It is seen as proof of his humanness, his alienness. No incubus could go so long. . . ” She shuddered. “It is against our very nature, against everything we are.”
“Then it sounds like everybody agrees with Rosier,” I said sourly.
But she shook her head. “Almost no one does. Few understood his obsession with obtaining a half-human child, and even fewer can comprehend why he refuses to let that child live as he chooses. Yes, John could be an asset to the family if he would use his powers on our behalf. But if he will not . . ”
“Oh yes. The horror,” Casanova said bitterly. “His father wants him to live in the lap of luxury, surrounded by beautiful women, and be treated like a prince. And all he has to do in return is sex up a few probably gorgeous demons. But what does he choose instead?”
“To live his own life,” I said. “To not be prostituted out by his father to gain power for Rosier’s ambitions. Which he doesn’t have control over and which could be any damned—”
“Oh, please. We’re all cogs in someone else’s ambitions, whether we like it or not. That’s life. If you’re smart, instead of bucking the system, you get what you can out of it.”
“Yeah, if you’re a selfish son of a—”
“Don’t even try that, little girl,” Casanova snapped. “I’m selfish? What about your precious mage? We’re at war, in case you didn’t notice.”
“That’s the reason he’s here,” I said impatiently. “He saved me—”
“Yes, one person. And what about the rest of us?”
“What about you? What was Pritkin supposed to do—”
“He was supposed to realize that, if he would get his head out of his ass, bow that stubborn neck to his father, and ask nicely, maybe he could get us some allies worth a damn!”
“What are you talking about?”
“The demon lords,” Casanova said severely. “The demon council. Do you have any idea how much power they have?”
“Carlos . . ” Rian said quietly.
“You want somebody to win this war for you, to do it fast?” Casanova demanded, ignoring her. “That’s where you want to turn for help. But instead, what are we doing?” He flung out a hand. “We’re doing our best to piss
them off!”
“Carlos—” Rian said, a bit more urgently.
But Casanova was on a roll. “Let’s look at the facts, shall we? The damned mage gets his back up, decides he doesn’t want to be a demon. So he comes to earth, forgetting that you don’t merely get to wave something like that away. You are what you are. Denying it is just a head game you play with yourself. But his head game resulted in a girl getting dead—”
“That’s not fair!” I said, glaring at him.
“Of course it’s fair. He may not have planned to kill her, but he drained her, didn’t he? Yes, Rian told me,” he said, at my outraged expression. “If I’m going to risk my neck getting him back, I deserved to know.”