Page 57
“You don’t look like the demon hunting type.” Thornfield takes a long sip from his glass.
In answer, I shrug and try to stand a little taller. I want to adjust my glasses, but hold back. “That’s where you’re wrong.” My jaw tics. “I’ve killed fifty demons in the last eighteen months.”
“Fifty?” Thornfield’s eyes twitch. Casually, as if he’s completely certain I’ll fuck up, he says, “Name them.”
The others are all watching me intently. Nova purses her lips. She looks curious, interested. The urge to impress her swells in my gut.
“Azazel, beleth, cimeries, cantalionm, eurynomos, focalor, gusion, haures, ipos, jezebeth, karsus, leraje, malthus, naberius, oriax, paimon, qemuel, ronove, shax, tannin—” I reel off the first twenty breeds, then stop because Thornfield is holding up his palm at me.
“All right,” he drawls. “Enough.” He sets down the glass then turns to Tanner and Kole. “You feel you need the help of a Mundane demon hunter? Or can you handle this alone?”
When they take too long to answer, Thornfield wave his arms in the air in what I assume is a rare display of raw emotion, and says, “Fine. Fine. Just find her.” He checks his ostentatious wrist watch then heads toward the bookcase at the back of the room. “I have calls to make.” He glances back at the silver-haired guy. “This auction either needs to be stopped altogether or I need to be the one to win it.” Now he looks at the others. “Either way, we need Miranda and we need the elixir. So, do what you have to do… find her.”
Like something from a Hollywood movie – a cross between Count Dracula and a Bond villain – Thornfield disappears behind a secret door in the bookshelf.
When it swings shut behind him, I adjust my glasses. My stomach growls, so I take the Chelsea bun from my pocket. It’s a bit squashed, but I bite into it and – with a full mouth – say, “I guess that means I’m part of the gang?”
29
NOVA
Kim strides ahead confidently as we leave the museum, his shoulders back and head high. Who would’ve thought the geeky guy I saved last night could be so bold?
“Are you sure you were tracking that demon last night?” I hiss as we descend the steps out front.
He glances at me, wiping the remains of his pastry from his lips.
“It’s just that, from where I was standing, it kind of looked like he was tracking you…”
“So little faith,” he quips. “I was luring him into the alleyway, obviously.”
“Obviously.” I bite back a chuckle. Something about his British accent makes me feel like I’m constantly on the verge of smiling or giggling.
“Before we go any further,” Mack says, leaning on the wall at the bottom of the steps. “I think we need to get a few things clear.”
Kim shrugs and puts his hands into his pockets. “Sure,” he says, waiting expectantly for Mack to continue talking.
Mack frowns. He is tantalizingly hot when he’s being grumpy and protective, and he’s clearly not happy about a stray human joining our group – or about the way Kim’s looking at me. Because I know the guys have noticed it.
“Don’t you want to know what all this is about?” Mack asks, straightening himself up as Snow leans against his leg.
“Not sure it matters, does it?” Kim asks, glancing at me. “Nova helped me, now she needs help. From what I’ve gathered, you guys are here looking for a witch who Queen Vamp has in her clutches. No idea why you’re working with Thornfield or why the witch is so important, and I’m guessing the auction he talked about isn’t for an antique stamp collection he’s got his eye on.” He scrapes his foot against the damp concrete floor. “But, like I said, it doesn’t really matter why. What matters is that I owe Nova a good turn, and I can help you find what you’re looking for.”
“And how exactly will you do that?” Kole asks. His entire body is tense and puffed up like he’s trying to make himself as tall as possible. He folds his arms in front of his chest, cords of muscle in his forearms twitching, tattoos peeking out from the neck of the black sweater he’s wearing with the sleeves rolled up.
He looks good in cold weather, I have to say.
Kim takes off his glasses, wipes them – because a fine mist is falling and has started to cloud them up – then repositions them on his nose. “I have talents,” he says. “Well-honed talents.”
I swallow hard and fight the urge to giggle again. Fuck, what’s happening to me? It must be the accent.
“Do you want to talk about them or do you just want me to show you?” he asks, gesturing toward the archway that leads to the busy street beyond the museum.
“Let’s go.” Tanner steps in, nodding at Mack and Kole. “I trust him, and we need this done as soon as possible.”
Reluctantly, the others step into line, allowing Kim and I to walk up front.
He’s not built like Kole or Tanner, lacking their athletic build and height, but there’s a certain energy about him that’s hard to ignore. He wears a smart gray jacket over a checked shirt, the fabric stretching slightly across a frame that’s clearly more accustomed to books than barbells. His jeans are a comfortable fit, and a pair of sensible brown leather shoes tap softly against the pavement.
