Page 30 of The Demon’s Due (Bedeviled #5)

I woke to a comfortable mattress, dim lights, and Michael tearing a strip off Chaim.

It was the same treatment room I’d been put in after coming back from the Brink. If I was going to spend time here on a regular basis, I was putting in for a new paint color, maybe some more plants.

“She’d already consented,” the healer protested, nervously running his hand over his bushy mustache. “I’ve never worked with a thrall before, but I didn’t think there’d be any side effects. Especially not this significant.”

“Well,” my mother said snidely, toying with her fiendishly sharp earrings, “if you didn’t think there’d be side effects, there was obviously no point in checking with the other party on whether this was a good time or not.”

“Hey,” he snapped. “I didn’t have all the information. How was I supposed to know she was an infer—” He coughed. “A half shedim?”

Snatches of what sounded like a news broadcast filtered in from the hallway, along with distressed conversations, but while I could hear tone, I couldn’t discern the words.

“You unraveled the thrall?” When I tried to push myself upright, a bout of nausea knocked me onto my back once more. For all I’d bemoaned our one-way connection, its absence hit me hard, but that was quickly swamped by rage that Ezra had done this after I’d begged him to wait.

“Exactly like you pleaded with me to do,” Chaim said in exasperation.

My fists bunched in the heated blanket I’d been given while unconscious. “Where is he?” I said in a low voice.

“Cardoso?” Chaim glanced at the door. “He left the moment it was done.”

A muscle in my jaw ticked.

My boyfriend had sliced himself away from me with surgical precision and, once free, slunk off to do precisely what he wanted—with zero word to me.

I lay there seething while Chaim checked my vitals and performed a few tests on my vision and motor skills, all under Michael’s baleful eye.

Thankfully, the strips of scales on my arm and neck were gone, proof I was also disconnected from Delacroix’s magic.

The second the healer announced I was fine, Michael ordered him out of his own treatment room.

Chaim was thrilled to give us the use of it.

“A demon reveal with a blackout encore.” I buried my face in my hands. “I am nothing if not memorable.”

My mother sat down on the edge of the bed. “Louis put the word out that it was low blood sugar.” She smoothed hair off my forehead, her cool hand comforting against my clammy skin. “How are you really feeling?”

“Hollow.” I pulled the blanket up to my chin.

Michael sighed. “Not that I’m condoning what Ezra did, but it might be helpful to hear more facts.

It may not have felt like it, but that meeting lasted hours.

Every half hour or so Ezra asked Louis how things were going, if maybe there was a moment where you could take a break.

There never seemed to be. While there are many less than complimentary things I’ll say about Ezra, him deliberately placing you in harm’s way is not on that list.”

That was an understatement. Especially since my gut was telling me that severing the thrall hadn’t laid me low. Not entirely. It was helped by my father’s magic.

Of course, Ezra hadn’t assumed that would be an issue, because when I first drew on it during the Darsh and Silas healing session, Ezra was adversely affected, not me. I’d gotten the rush of all rushes.

“Are Darsh and Silas okay?” I said.

“Ezra’s healing magic is holding. I’m relieved and grateful. Officially, though, the pair were always free of any Luce effects.”

Happy as I was about my friends, I dragged the blanket over my head, my rage toward Ezra swept away by an avalanche of well-deserved guilt. I’d been a shitty partner, putting him off again and again. It didn’t matter if it was for the greater good, that didn’t make my behavior less selfish.

“Do you know if he’s still with Secretary Pederson?” I said.

“They met,” Michael said, “but he’s no longer in Copenhagen.”

Ezra had spent years searching for answers about his mother’s death.

I closed my eyes. How brutal must that have been, Ezra remaining calm enough to use the leverage about Operation Inferno—shedim breeding Eishei Kodesh—to pry the truth out of Secretary Pederson about her connection to Natán and Ezra’s tragic family history.

He could have forced it out of her, but Michael would be aware were that the case.

Just like he could have forced me to abandon the meeting before it began.

My boyfriend had followed me around for days, doing everything I asked of him.

Why didn’t I announce a half-hour break before convening everyone?

That way, I’d have been present to tell Chaim what was happening and avoided this mess.

No one would have questioned taking some processing time in the wake of the demon attack.

Delacroix was right about my do-gooder instincts being a spark—too bad this time it threatened to burn my relationship to the ground.

I flung the covers off. “I have to talk to Ezra.”

“Before you head out, there’s something you need to know.” Michael looked up at the ceiling, then shook her head. “There’s no good way to say this, so here it is. Detective Desmond arrested Roger Henderson for the murder of Jared Casey.”

I froze, shaking my head against the impossible words as if they might rattle free and make more sense. “I saw Roger. He didn’t even want to discuss his boss.”

“He called the police from Casey’s home and confessed.” Michael fiddled with the rod for the blinds. “Olivier passed on a message from Roger to you.”

My gut twisted. “What?”

“‘Thank you for helping me find the man inside I’d lost.’”

I sunk my head in my hands with a broken moan. I wasn’t a spark; I was a detonator. The whispering in the meeting hadn’t been disgust with me being an infernal. It was everyone finding out about Casey’s murder. “What’s the emotional temperature here in Vancouver?”

“Simmering but not yet boiling over,” Michael said.

“Other things have come to light, such as Jared Casey’s abuse of his staff.

Between Keira and me, we’ve managed to spin it that Henderson, a Trad, snapped under the constant poor treatment and, sadly, took Jared’s own words that real humans don’t need magic to heart. ”

“I sense a ‘but.’”

Michael pulled up video freezeframed on Natán seated behind a large desk against a darkly paneled wall with moody lighting. At this rate, he’d have to buy a news franchise to keep up with all his on-air appearances. My mother hit play.

“I’m ashamed of the people I once fought so valiantly for and cared so deeply about.” Natán held up a Maccabee ring that may have been his or just a prop and set it on the table with a soft clink .

I bunched the blanket tightly in my fists.

“Maccabees insist on pointing fingers at the lack of care from vampires,” he said.

“Yet they fail to mention the many safety and infrastructure improvements vampires have made in local communities. How we’ve turned neighborhoods around, making them the most sought-after places with the highest quality of life. Our actions show how we treat humans.”

The footage cut to Casey’s memorial photo. They’d doctored his face, making him slightly younger, leaner, and handsomer than in person.

“Maccabees are pointing the finger at good Trad men and women,” Natán said, “but where was their accountability for the murder of Jared Casey, one of Canada’s most respected politicians?”

“Of course he becomes one of Canada’s great politicians after he gets assassinated,” I scoffed.

It cut back to the vampire. “They even covered up a previous attack on this poor man,” Natán said. “One which came from within the local Eishei Kodesh community. One that his own Trad head of security, his eventual killer, helped Maccabees to cover up.”

I threw double middle fingers at the screen. “That other attack was a demon and that’s not what happened at all.”

Michael hushed me.

“…didn’t even realize he had a pro-magic fanatic among his inner circle until it was tragically too late.

” Natán steepled his fingers together, assuming a thoughtful expression.

“The ruling powers of the Maccabees say to trust them. And I do. I trust them to destabilize Eishei Kodesh and Trad relations by radicalizing good people. I trust them to cause chaos and bury the truth with lies. But do I trust them to put others first when disaster falls?” He spread his hands wide.

I made a strangled sound.

“His speechwriter deserves a raise,” Michael said. “People are buying into this.”

“Here’s the truth.” Natán sighed heavily, a wonderful piece of theater as he didn’t breathe.

“Vampires don’t want to hurt humans. If I’m being blunt, we can’t survive without your goodwill.

There are far more of you than there are of us.

What you have to remember is that before we were vampires, we were human too.

We hold humanity in high esteem, appreciating both its fragility and incredible resilience.

” His expression turned wistful. “Perhaps even more than all of you.”

God help me, I actually believed him. Which made me see red. I kept telling people that I valued my humanity because I was part demon, and yet they had a harder time believing my appreciation of it than a known criminal’s.

“Here’s another truth,” he said. “I agree with the restrictions that humans place on vampires. We must have consent to feed or to turn someone. The penalties for vampires who commit crimes are immediate and deadly. We do not get a trial or a jail sentence, and we accept that. Vampires are faster and stronger, and in the interests of the greater good, different measures are in place.”

He looked away from the camera for a dramatic pause.

“Eishei Kodesh possess magic, which most humans do not, but most are held to no different standard than their Trad neighbors. They are doctors, and nurses, and teachers, valued members of our community, whereas Maccabees wield their magic behind a badge.”

I ground my teeth together.

“Perhaps those who wish to place restrictions on Eishei Kodesh should reevaluate their stance on where the real menace lies,” he said.

“But I don’t need to tell any of you what to believe.

It’s already in your hearts.” Natán placed his own hand on his chest. “Just like my vow to do good in this world is always in mine.”

I hit stop on Michael’s phone. “Jeez, Mom, how long was I unconscious? Six months? Because the amount of shit you’re hitting me with could fill that.”

“It was only one night, but we’re counting it in dog years,” she said wryly. “It’s about 3:30AM Tuesday.”

I tamped down my annoyance at losing valuable time.

“Natán’s response has redirected public dialogue away from turning Casey into a martyr and temporarily shut up politicians of Casey’s ilk.” She pulled a wry face. “Everyone’s focused on whether Maccabees should be allowed to exist.”

“Wow,” I said saltily. “Guess we should let the demons and vampires eat everyone, then.”

“It’s not all bad. Alastair’s minions are no longer of concern.

We got them all.” She snapped her fingers.

“Oh, and I lambasted the mayor for shutting down the investigation into that first magic attack on Jared Casey. Said he was culpable for a dangerous vampire Mafioso spinning lies about the Maccabees not doing their part to keep a prominent Trad politician safe in the mayor’s city.

That it put the global spotlight on him and not in a good way. That was very satisfying.”

“I’m glad you had fun,” I said,

“There’s something else,” Michael said.

I braced my hands on the mattress to steady myself against news I was certain would land like aftershocks. “Another death? The locks?”

“No. Well, the runes on them are failing in some locations, but the Authority is allowing Delacroix to remove the freed prisoners, and thus far he’s done so without causing any harm or even awareness among humans.

But you’ve been publicly identified as Ezra’s girlfriend.

The photo that was taken of you two now has your name attached. There is some level of online…fuss.”

How bad was it? General shitposting from the Ezracurriculars or “let’s find her and dox her” bad?

Note to self. Don’t check phone. Also, don’t hold breath for a “may you live happily-ever-after” card. From the Authority or Ezra’s fans.

Gee, how fortunate I had Casey’s murder—which I’d inadvertently inspired—to busy myself with.

“Let me guess,” I said, “the Authority ordered you to make me break up with him.”

“I wish.”

My eyebrows shot into my hairline. “Excuse me?”

“I expected them to, as overreaching as that is, but they didn’t. Because they know you’re a half shedim.”

I’d accepted that as a matter of course when I outed myself. I’d weighed the repercussions against being an effective weapon fighting the two shedim here in HQ, and decided my assistance was worth that risk.

Yet the fact that they didn’t protest my relationship, given the animosity with Ezra’s dad, underscored how angry they were about my demon heritage.

I stared at the floor. “What actions are they taking?”

“It’s being discussed.”

I’d killed a shedim, saved an operative, and come up with a plan to stop the Luce, but sure, don’t see me as a hero. Was I even a Maccabee in their eyes or was I simply a monster they’d tolerate until they didn’t need me anymore? Just like their vampire operatives.

Everything Delacroix had accused me of was coming true. There was no way for me to do enough worthy deeds to make the Maccabees see me as a good person.

A thousand dark scenarios unfolded, each one dropping into my head like stones in a frozen pond, while my heartbeat echoed in my ears like a doomsday countdown clock.

We have to protect Mom . Cherry sounded fierce.

“Sector A?” I said in a croaked voice. “Mom? Can they send us?—”

“No.” Her firm tone cut through my anxiety.

“I won’t let them…” I wrapped my arms around myself.

Who was I kidding? The Authority got what it wanted. We were all just pieces in their game.

And I’d never felt so powerless.