She sniffed the air. The acrid stench of Infernal wrinkled her nose. “You know . . . this is like sending a medical student into brain surgery the day she first reads about it.”
“You don’t know your own strengths, babe.”
She glared. “I know when I’m getting my ass kicked.”
“You’re batting a thousand so far. This one’s a wolf and you’re good with them. But be careful anyway.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one risking your hide.”
His lips pressed to her temple in a quick, hard kiss. “Risking yours is enough, trust me.”
Skirting the Out-of-Service sign, Eve entered the men’s restroom, lamenting the fact that she was wearing her favorite flip-flops. Due to the rigors of her “job,” she’d taken to wearing combat boots whenever she left home, but Alec had coaxed her into going casual today. She should have known better.
The harsh ammonia smell of stale urine assaulted her nostrils. Finding her target was easy. He stood in the center of the room, alone. A teenage werewolf who was eerily familiar.
“Remember me?” he asked, smiling.
The boy was tall and thin, his face long and unremarkable. He wore a dirty gray hooded sweatshirt and jeans so low his ass was hanging out. A dark spot moved across his cheek and came to rest on his left cheekbone. His detail—swirls around a diamond shape. Like the mark on her arm, it served a similar purpose to military insignia.
Recognition hit her hard, followed by an immediate chill down her spine. “Shouldn’t you be in Northern California with your pack?”
“The Alpha sent me down here to even the score. He thinks Cain needs to learn what it’s like to lose someone he loves.”
“There was no way to save the Alpha’s son,” she argued. “Cain doesn’t pick and choose his hunts. He follows orders.”
“He made a deal. For you. And he broke his promise.”
Eve frowned. Alec had never mentioned a deal to her. But that was something she would explore later. There was a more immediate question. “You think you can take me by yourself?”
His smirk turned into a grin. “I brought a friend.”
“Great.” That was never good.
The large handicapped stall in the back slammed open and something absolutely horrific thundered out. Holy shit. An Infernal that large should have reeked for yards. Instead, the only thing Eve smelled was wolf.
The dragon hadn’t fully shifted. He still wore his pants and shoes, and dark hair still covered his head. But his mouth was a protruding muzzle of razor-sharp teeth, his eyes were those of a lizard, and all of his visible flesh was covered in gorgeous multihued scales.
“You smell tasty,” he rumbled.
She’d heard that Marks smelled sickly sweet to Infernals, which made her laugh inwardly. There was no such thing as a sweet Mark. They were all bitter. “You don’t smell like anything.”
We failed, she realized with a sinking feeling in her gut. Infernals still had the means to hide themselves in crowds.
“Brilliant, isn’t it?” the wolf asked. “Obviously, you didn’t wipe out our operation completely.”
The dragon roared and it was a fearsome, deafening sound that echoed in the confined space of the bathroom. The mortals couldn’t hear it, though, and Eve’s eardrums were invincible despite their celestial sensitivity. Another boon granted by the mark. The dragon shoved the wolf aside and stomped closer.
“Guess that’s my cue to leave,” the kid said. “I’ll give the Alpha your regards.”
Eve’s gaze remained riveted on her opponent. “Yeah, tell him he screwed with the wrong chick.”
The wolf laughed and departed. Eve wanted to do the same.
For all her bravado, she was out of her league. If she had been capable of physical reactions to stress, her heart would be hammering and she’d be short of breath. No doubt about it, she was going to be suffering when this confrontation was over, if she was still alive. A religious person might pray for Alec to get here soon, but that wasn’t an option for Eve. The Almighty did exactly what he wanted and nothing more. The purpose of prayer was to make the supplicant feel like he was doing something. It made Eve feel like she was wasting her breath.
“Where’s Cain?” the dragon growled, approaching her with his hulking, lumbering stride. “I smell his stench on you.”
“He’s watching the game, which is what you should be doing.” Eve couldn’t risk telling him that Alec was coming. He might just kill her quickly and bail. In his mortal guise, with no odor to betray him, he could slip right past Alec. But if the dragon thought he had time, he might toy with her. Infernals liked to play.
“I need a snack.” His voice was so guttural she could hardly understand him. “You’ll do.”
“Have you tried the nachos?” she suggested, her hands fisting. Deep inside her, power coiled. Hunger and aggression, too. It was base and animalistic, not at all the elegant sort of violence she might have expected God to employ in the destruction of his enemies. The surge was brutal . . . and addicting. “The chips are kind of stale and the cheese is from a can, but it’s a lot less dangerous to your health.”
He snorted, which shot a burst of fire out of his muzzle. “I’ve heard about you. You’re no threat to me.”
“Really?” She tilted her head, frowning in mock confusion. Demons used sarcasm, evasion, and lies to their advantage. Eve did, too. “When’s the last time you got an update on me? Does Hell have a newsletter? A chat room? Otherwise, you’re probably behind the times.”
“You’re cocky. And stupid. You think that sting in Upland made you a hero? Hell’s branches are like the Hydra, bitch. Cut off one head, we grow back two.”
An icy lump settled in Eve’s gut. “More to sever,” she managed, albeit with a slight tremor.
The dragon held up his hands. As thick, sharp claws grew out of the tips of his fingers, he leered and drool ran from his gaping maw. “You’re a baby. Should make you juicy and tender.”
“A baby?” she scoffed, fighting the urge to step back. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through these last six weeks? I have some serious workplace rage.”
Eve widened her stance, raised her fists, and took a deep breath. This was going to hurt. “Ready to see for yourself?”
The dragon’s chest expanded on an inhale and he altered, his body assuming its natural reptilian appearance. He loomed above her, his head bent on a long graceful neck to accommodate the ceiling. He was a beautiful creature, with iridescent scales and lithe lines. Problem was, that stunning hide was like cement. Any attempt to kick or hit it would only lead to pain. For her, not him.
Their hide has very little vulnerability, Raguel had taught in Dragon 101. Points of weakness are the webbing between their toes, the joint connecting the forelimbs to the torso, their eyes, and their rectum. The first will not cause mortal wounds, the second and third require proximity that can get you killed, and the fourth . . . well, as the kids say, you do not want to go there.
Holding out her hand, Eve requested a blade. A sword appeared, hovering in midair, ablaze but for the hilt. Fire. Fire in Hell, fire in Heaven, fire blasting from the dragon’s nostrils forcing her to leap backward to avoid being singed.
Pyromaniacs, the lot of ’em.
If she had a choice, she’d prefer her revolver. But she couldn’t carry all the time and the Almighty preferred the flame-covered sword. Never let it be said that God didn’t have a flair for the dramatic. He knew his strengths, and a bit of flashy intimidation was one of them.
The dragon laughed or chortled or choked . . . whatever. He wasn’t impressed. The sound of his amusement gave Eve the willies and she rolled her wrist, using the substantial weight of the blade to limber up. She’d started out being the sorriest swordsman in her class. Now she was passably proficient, getting better every day.
“You missed me,” she taunted grimly, wincing when her flip-flops clung to the sticky floor. Stupid footwear choice.
One of the many things she’d learned since getting saddled with this job was that presenting a formidable appearance went a long way toward hiding her deficiencies. Her enemies could smell her fear and they thrived on it. Throwing them for a loop with a little cockiness was sometimes the only way to gain any sort of advantage.
The dragon took a step toward her, his talons gouging into the tile, his weight vibrating the ground beneath them. The barrage of flames had made the room hot, but she didn’t sweat. She couldn’t; her body was a temple now.
Swinging at her with one short forelimb, the beast roared with terrible intent. He countered her evasive leap with a lash of his tail, which boasted a hard weighty scale on the tip that was used like a mace. It sank deep into the spot she’d occupied before she stumbled out of the way with a yelp. He yanked the appendage free in a shower of ceramic dust.
As she ran past him, he pivoted, his swinging tail ripping several sinks out of the wall. Eve darted around his side and managed to dislodge one of his scales with a hurried thrust of her blade.
He’d demolished the bathroom, she gave him a paper cut.
“Stupid cunt!” the beast bellowed, seemingly oblivious to the water spraying madly from the broken pipes. The depth of hatred and malevolence in the reptilian eyes added to the growing layer of hardness on her soul that was slowly changing her. Permanently.
Eve’s fury rose to mask her terror. Infernals such as this guy were for much more advanced Marks. If he hadn’t masked his scent and details, she wouldn’t be fighting him.
She was in deep shit. And damn it, she was sick of being soaked all the time. Every Infernal she came across doused her with water.
“Reed.” Her voice was not her own. Lower and deeper, it was the language of Marks. Known as a “herald,” the tone was instinctive and indecipherable to Infernals. “Hurry up. I’m in trouble.”
The sensation of a hot summer breeze moved over her—Reed’s reply.