Chapters (42)
- Title Page
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Acknowledgements
- Also by Kim Harrison
- Copyright
- About the Publisher
- Cover
The words on the handle were in Latin, and though I hadn’t been able to read them, I think Pierce had by his grim expression.
Tired, I turned to the big TV affixed to the wall. “I’d think you’d be worried about thieves,” I said, looking at the equipment piled under it. I didn’t see any security system, and though Jax was better than any detection setup known to man or witch, he wasn’t here 24/7.
“Not since the first one had a heart attack in the hall, no,” Nick said, and I turned to see him bring a shirt out of his dresser and drop it on the bed.
From the far corner by the kitchen, Jax piped up, “He walked right into the ward, bam! It took three days for the stink of burnt hair to go away. Annie was pissed.”
Feeling ill, I sat on the couch with my back to him. That’s why Jax had gone ahead of us. Bringing my focus back, I casually brought out my bigmojo amulet, glowing a very faint, almost-not-there red. Whatever safeguards Nick had, they were nasty even when uninvoked. “Got yourself a rep, eh?” I needled Nick, watching his reflection in the blank TV as Pierce tried to figure out the blinds.
Nick took his shirt off in one easy move. “Not as bad as yours.”
Pierce’s eyes snapped in ire, but the words never made it past his lips when he saw Nick’s battered and scarred body. I’d forgotten, but Nick was covered in scars; the deep gouges never properly taken care of had mellowed to lumpy white scar tissue, crisscrossing his chest and shoulders in a bizarre pattern. Most had probably come from the rat fights where we’d met. Even more disturbing was the new demon scar with two slashes on his shoulder. Nick’s gaze flicked away when he realized I’d seen it. Motions fast, he put on a lightweight T-shirt.
Peeved, I crossed my arms and sank back into the cushions to stare at the black TV. An uncomfortable silence grew, broken only by Jax’s wings. In the almost-mirror of the TV, I watched Nick sit on the edge of the bed to pull a pair of stained blue overalls over his pants. I wondered if it was the same pair he’d used when he had helped me break into Trent’s grounds. Maybe I was as bad as he was.
“Bathroom is behind the kitchen,” Nick said as he stood and adjusted the straps about his shoulders. “I’ve got extra blankets under the bed if you’re cold or on the off chance you’re not sleeping together and one of you wants the couch.”