Demons are immortal, emotionless entities with superpowers. Ideal existence, I know, but they’re also evil. Previously human, if the stories are true, demons broke the rules of magic so horrifically, they destroyed their own souls. They’ve haunted my nightmares, the boogeyman of every bedtime story and the cause of multiple colleagues’ deaths (which, you know, thanks for thinning the competition, but still). Worst of all, I have a sneaking suspicion they’re the reason my parents are gone.
Syndicates very rarely work with demons. In fact, they go out of their way to avoid them. But even though it’s startling to see a demon so casually hanging out with syndicate members, nobody in this group seems surprised by their companion. So even though Elle Fields is shocked as hell, Random Lab Assistant Number Four can’t be.
I push up my glasses and smile. If I had an inhaler, this is when I’d use it. Might actually need one right now.
“You set off the alarm?” one of the Reapers asks, a middle-aged man with an overly square jaw.
I blink. “Not on purpose,” I say, frowning. “I’d just spilled some putrescine when it went off. I’m a bit clumsy, don’tcha know.”
Square Jaw sighs, and a few of the others roll their eyes. The demon stares at me blankly, eyes all black, veins harsh against its pale skin. There’s something about demons that screamsno,evil,unnatural,wrong. I feel like prey, but against every instinct, I have to look away.
“The alarm was set off by an intruder,” Square Jaw says. “Did you see anything?”
If I can pull your attention away from the demon for a second, you might ask why no one here has considered yet thatI’mthe intruder. The answer is simple: because I’m not acting like one. If I had run the other way down the hall, they would have overtaken me quickly, and there would be no fast-talking that would get me out of that one. But I didn’t run, I confronted them before they noticed me, and I’m wearing something official yet anonymous. They can assume that I work in the lab, and the accent suggests that they don’t know me because I’m from out of town. If they look too closely, they’ll realize these assumptions are unlikely, but no one looks closely. Why would I be working in the lab right now? How long have I been here? Why would a Midwesterner come to Boston? Their brains ignore these questions, because none of those scenarios are more unlikely than the intruder walking straight up to them and having a conversation.
“Nope, didn’t see anything,” I say. “But I was handling some putrescine, so I was pretty focused. Didn’t want to burn my hand off, ya know.”
I don’t know what putrescine does, but I do know it doesn’t burn your hand off. Tolliver wouldn’t have had it casually hanging out in the lab if it did. I’m betting on these guys not knowing that, though.
Square Jaw looks over his shoulder. “Keep searching.”
I start to slide away, but Square Jaw’s hand lands on my shoulder.
“You’re coming with me,” he says, “to see the boss.”
“I already talked to Greg,” I say. (There’s always a Greg.)
“Not Greg,” he says. “Theboss. He’ll want to hear why you didn’t notice an intruder using an Orpheus chamber while you were right next door in the lab.”
Oh, shit. Shit shit shit.Theboss. Meaning the boss of the Reapers.
Thanatos.
My life depends on not showing my panic right now, so I smile at Square Jaw and follow him. I do, however, breathe a sigh of relief when the demon and the rest of the Reaper cronies don’t follow us into the elevator.
Confined spaces are usually a no-go, but I don’t have much of a choice right now. Square Jaw cuts a glance to me, and I would be yammering away to distract him from asking any questions, if I weren’t already trying to prepare myself to meet Thanatos.
The Reapers primarily have their claws in healthcare, especially American healthcare. It’s not only extremely profitable, but it gives them some control over who lives and who dies. The magic of Thanatos’s family is transmutation, which technically applies to all matter, but the Reapers use it mostly for manipulating the body. Bacteria, cancer cells, antibodies, and so on. So if the Reaper in this elevator is related to Thanatos, he could take complete control of the cells in my body. He could give me a heart attack, or an aneurysm, or make me feel the most intense pain of my life.
I should be a lot more scared right now.
The elevator door opens, and even though I’ve never been in this part of the building, I know we’re on the main floor, close to the street. I can hear traffic, and the scent of exhaust lingers in the air. I follow the Reaper into an opulent room full of mahogany furniture and velvet upholstery. There’s a crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceiling, and the scuffed parquet floor and curtained windows suggest this is some kind of foyer.
There’s a man in an impeccable suit waiting for us. It’s not Thanatos, but it’s not much better: Adam Waring, Thanatos’s right-hand man and the current US Secretary of Health. I took note of Waring because it surprised me that he has loyalties to two syndicates. Not only is he likely a descendant of Thanatos, but he’s in politics, so he must also have ties with the Nightshades who control the government. So unless I can talk my way out of this, I’m basically screwed.
Square Jaw nudges me forward, and I kinda almost purposely trip a little to sell my confused-lab-assistant act.
“We found this one in the lab,” Square Jaw says. “Says she didn’t see anything.”
If I weren’t in character, I would point out that they didn’t find me—I came to them. And we weren’t in the lab—we were in the hallway.
Waring smiles. He’s tall and stocky, his perfectly tailored suit and short haircut yelling,Look at me, I’m important.His skin is the warm bronze of sunlight on polished wood, and his eyes are cold and flat like pennies. He doesn’t blink nearly enough.
“Hello, Elle.”
My head jerks up in shock.
Shit. Rookie mistake. Great job, Elle.
