Page 25

I t was busier than usual. Three dozen people were crammed into the space, with Rome spread out beneath them. She had felt Jules flinch at the first yell and tried not to react in kind.

It was awful.

It was unavoidable .

‘These … are demons?’ he breathed.

She glanced his way. ‘It would make it easier if they all looked like monsters, wouldn’t it?’

Monsters they were not. More often than not, they were born lovely. And dangerous.

‘Why do this?’

‘We have a compact. As part of this compact with the Vatican, they brand their part-demons. Once their power is bound and they are no great threat, we mostly turn a blind eye to their existence.’

Sparrow stood to the side. If not for his incredible presence, he might fade into the shadowed edges of the tableau. But he wasn’t the kind of man who could avoid attention. He looked over, expression unchanging, then tossed his cigarette over the balcony and cut his way toward them.

‘Selene. To what do I owe this pleasure?’ He indicated the branded boy. ‘You’re here as witness? That’s unexpected. Isn’t this below your pay grade?’

She watched the boy drink, holding the bottle with shaking hands. ‘I should arrest you,’ she said mildly.

‘Go ahead.’

‘Don’t tempt me. I could find something and make it stick.’

‘Promises, promises.’

The boy pulled a tank top on, its low back baring his raw flesh. Adrenaline would keep him warm.

‘I need information.’

Sparrow gave her a long look. ‘It must be important to bring you all the way here, Macellaia . Last time we spoke you weren’t interested in what I had to say.’

‘If I recall, last time we spoke you said nothing of use. Things have changed. I should have listened then, but I’m here now.’

He straightened, clearly surprised by that, and whatever else he saw in her face decided him. ‘All right. You should speak to Kalindra.’

She nodded toward a young girl shrugging her jacket down, baring the curve of her spine. ‘Another one?’

‘Vatican-approved.’

‘I didn’t ask.’

He huffed a sound that was not quite agreement.

They watched in silence, both of them witnessing the branding. Nicely done. Like the first.

When metal and flesh had stopped sizzling, Sparrow led them down an open-air staircase to a smaller terrace that wrapped around what had once been a clock tower. Green shutters stood open, and beyond were French doors.

Holding open the door, Sparrow watched Jules with intense appraisal as he entered the room. It was the first time he’d shown any sign of noticing him at all.

Inside, Selene leaned against Sparrow’s desk and continued their earlier conversation. ‘As long as you follow the compact, I have no problem with what you do here. No matter how many baby demons you find.’

His blue eye flicked up and pinned her. Sparrow didn’t respond immediately, but when he did his tone was ice-cold. ‘Liar. You sound smooth to everyone else, Macellaia di Roma , but you can’t fool me. You would prefer to see them in the ground.’

She barely smothered a sneer. ‘Believe what you like. Honestly, I don’t give a—’

There was a loud knock. Giulietta leaned in, pointedly not looking at Selene. ‘Boss, there are people here. People like her .’ She jutted her chin at Selene.

‘ Ex-or-cists ,’ Selene enunciated. ‘It must be difficult having all your major developmental milestones between your collarbones and navel.’

Giulietta flounced off and Selene followed.

Pausing beside Jules, Selene lowered her voice. ‘Stay here. You two can talk about how cruel I am among yourselves. I’m sure it will keep you busy. Maybe Sparrow knows something I don’t. Doubtful but possible. And, Jules, do try to stay out of trouble.’

On the street below, Giulietta started left but Selene turned right, calling over her shoulder, ‘Tell them to wait on the street. I’ll be there shortly.’ Then she slipped down the alley to the right, knocked twice on the glass door, and let herself in.

Kalindra’s shop was always dark and close, even during the day when it opened. But night was when her real wares were on sale. Information and black-market items. It was filled to the rafters with dried plants and growing ivy. A large macaw sat overhead, watching Selene with beady eyes.

The information broker stood in the corner, smoking a long pipe. Her eyes were filmy with age. Selene strongly suspected Kalindra was almost as old as the new Vatican itself, born in the tumultuous years after demons tried to kill the Deathless God. But Kalindra’s mind remained sharp, and despite her demon nature, she’d proven useful to Selene and the Vatican.

Kalindra raised a hand. ‘I have nothing to say to you, girl. Not now.’

So it was going to be like that.

Selene pressed her teeth together, forcing a smile as she slid a sheaf of papers from her pocket. ‘I figured that might be the case. Which is why I brought five clean approvals. Already stamped with the Primus Seal. Five , Kalindra. You know how valuable they are.’

Kalindra scowled darkly, popping a sweet into her mouth and sucking on it as she stared Selene down. ‘Not enough. Not with the change in the air. Not even for five lives.’

Selene narrowed her eyes. Five certificates would mean Sparrow could take in and brand five part-demon youths. Kalindra would never turn down such an offer. ‘What are you scared of, old woman?’

Kalindra scoffed. ‘I’m not afraid.’

‘You seem it. Not even ballsy enough to save five kids.’

‘Says you —you’re the one who’ll cut them down if I don’t.’

‘Probably,’ Selene acknowledged, leafing through the pages to count the writs. She paused meaningfully. ‘Oh. I miscounted. I seem to have seven.’

Kalindra twitched, reaching out a bony hand. ‘Give.’

‘Not until you tell me what’s happening on the streets of Rome. I don’t need you to tell me something’s afoot, I can work that out for myself. I want details .’

Selene didn’t want to direct Kalindra with leading questions or tell the information broker anything she didn’t already know. That Baliel had returned to their world. That he was on his way. That he was hunting someone … and she suspected that someone was upstairs.

‘The underground is in chaos. Sparrow can barely shelter those under his protection. Old alliances are tearing this city apart. Anyone with demon blood in their veins is being forced to choose a side. And each and every one of us would kill to know why the Duke of Briars is here again—’

‘In Rome?’ Selene interrupted. ‘Already?’

Kalindra laughed. ‘Yes, in Rome. After so long away. Long, even for me.’

Selene thought of Baliel’s likeness captured in her father’s hand. His face sketched in incredible detail. So even Kalindra didn’t know he’d been back some ten years ago. Just a few short years before her father’s death. ‘If that’s free, what aren’t you telling me?’

The murky corners of the shop seemed to edge closer.

Kalindra curled her gnarled fingers. ‘Give me the five, and I’ll tell you. Then you give me the two.’

Selene hesitated. It’d be something of a bad deal if Kalindra reneged, but she wanted the information more. Smirking, she dropped the papers to the table.

Kalindra snatched them, burying them somewhere in the layers of her clothes. When her hand reappeared, she held glinting hexagonal coins. ‘These are breaking,’ she said, dropping them into Selene’s palm.

The metal was freezing. Turning them between her fingers, she shivered. A greater cold seeped into her bones as she realized what these were. Vatican seals—the ward coins protecting Rome.

‘Who did this?’ she asked softly. Dangerously.

Though only a fragment of the immense network, they were vital to defend the Deathless God. Without them, the Vatican fortress would fall. Given their importance to exorcists, they could be unpopular with Rome’s demon-blooded population.

Lower lip jutting, Kalindra thrust out a hand, waiting for the final two approvals.

She’d get nothing more from her tonight. Nodding, Selene gently set the certificates into Kalindra’s soft, wrinkled hand and held it between her own. Leaning closer, she whispered, ‘You tell me when you know more, Kalindra. Or I’ll forget the compact and kill every branded child in this city. Understand?’

Kalindra yanked her hand away, spitting wordlessly after her as she left.

Selene slowed at the door, where a little half-demon girl peeked around the doorframe. ‘Hello.’ She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a brightly coloured caramel.

After a moment of stillness, the girl snatched it from her hand.

Very seriously, Selene asked, ‘Would you like one more?’ There was much eager nodding and Selene set another in the girl’s outstretched palm. In thanks, the girl hissed like a cat and scampered off, shoving the colourful sweets into her tatty coat pocket.

Smothering a smile, Selene watched her go.

Ambrose was waiting for her on the street.

The hexagonal discs clinked as she transferred them discreetly to her inside pocket.

His jacket was open from his shoulder, revealing the shiny metallurgic monstrosity of his new arm. She forced away a twinge of guilt at the sight. Why should she feel guilty for not saving his arm when he stuck it between razor teeth of his own volition?

She raised a faux-curious brow in response to Ambrose’s sneer.

‘Should’ve known.’

‘What?’ she asked, bored.

Ambrose trailed his eyes up and down her, then leered up at Sparrow’s tower. Selene didn’t dignify his filth with a reply, though she dearly wanted to.

He cupped his groin with the metal hand. ‘How about you give me a go? Better than a demon, I’ll bet. Or maybe you like it taboo—?’

Her boot knife found its way into her hand and the blade against his tongue urged him to be silent.

‘I really wouldn’t go on,’ she breathed close to his ear.

His tongue worked against the flat of her blade.

Selene eased closer, turning the dagger so she could hold it between his teeth and still boop his nose with a finger. ‘Ambrose, I know you’re mad about the whole arm thing . But that’s on you. Why would you choose to get that close to a demon’s filthy mouth? And I really do mean that. They’re filthy. If you make such a vile suggestion again, well …’ She trailed off, letting the steel shoved between his teeth speak for her.

Abandoning her favourite boot knife, she turned on her heel.

Be smart, Ambrose , she thought. Don’t do it …

But the moment her back was turned, she sensed him move with intent. She twisted and slammed her fist into his face. A searing line of agony burst across her knuckles where her own blade sliced her to the bone, and the world briefly dimmed at the edges.

Worth it.

It was worse for Ambrose.

A gruesome smile split his cheeks and he dropped to his knees. Her knife clattered to the ground. She grabbed his hair and tipped his head back to force him to look into her eyes.

Blood dripped from her other hand onto the cobbles. ‘You ever try to hit me, or any other Vatican officer again, and I swear to the Deathless God that you will be crucified by the coming dawn, understand?’ She tugged his hair, puppeteering a nod.

Blood soaked into the neck of his Vatican jacket.

‘Get yourself healed up. Lucia’s still in Nice, so good luck finding someone skilled enough to keep the scarring to a minimum.’ She had no energy to sound convincing. ‘Oh, also, I acted as witness for the branding. It’s done. Write the report, then you’re off this assignment.’

He spat, pushing himself to his feet. ‘ Captain .’

Scooping up her knife, she returned it to her boot. ‘Go,’ she sighed.

The cut was no longer bleeding freely, but it hurt. Injuries were part of this life she’d chosen, but where adrenaline faded, pain lingered. She grazed a thumb over her knuckles, wincing. She could get it fixed in moments, even if she had to find someone other than Lucia to do it. But she thought not.

No, this was a scar she should keep. A reminder.

She wasn’t certain she’d dealt with that as well as she could have.