Page 32 of The Demon’s Due (Bedeviled #5)

“Natán seeks revenge against the Maccabees?” I got off the bed and walked into the living room, Ezra behind me.

We settled ourselves on the sofa.

“I told you before,” he said, “that my father operates on a one-strike-and-you’re-dead rule. You’re right that he cares about his people. He bought those Seaside clinics to if not help vampires, at least give them dignity in dying.”

I’d believed Natán about that. And when he spoke about vampires holding humanity in high esteem. I still did. He wasn’t going to unleash whichever vamps were left on us.

“But that’s secondary to destroying the Maccabees,” Ezra said. “He was denied vengeance for his wife’s death because I thwarted the hit on Pederson.”

“You’re the one person exempt from his rule.”

“Lucky me,” Ezra said. “But Secretary Pederson is still alive. Why? It’s not like Natán forgave and forgot.”

“The current Authority knows what happened and has been protecting her. Shit.”

It explained why Burning Eddie couldn’t get to her either.

“In Natán’s last press conference,” I said slowly, “he urged people wanting to restrict Eishei Kodesh to think about where the real menace lay. Revenge is a dish best served cold, but that’s still assuming he was sure this would all go down with Alastair and the Luce.”

“It always bothered me that Natán couldn’t find Alastair,” Ezra said. “He had his entire Kosher Nostra hunting a dhampir, along with all the other vamps currying favor with him, and Alastair evaded all of them?”

“He wasn’t looking for Alastair, he was watching him.”

Ezra nodded. “My father knew about the rune, he knew about the ritual, and he made his move, using all his wealth and power to put the pieces into place. But he’s never taken responsibility for his role in that insemination program.

His role in Mamá’s—” He cleared his throat.

“Natán has a lot of strikes to his name, but he’s never been out.

I’m going to rectify that,” he said darkly.

“Not the way you’re thinking,” I said urgently. “This is your opportunity to reinvent yourself. To put the Crimson Prince behind you forever.”

“Or it’s time for me to show him what it really means to be the Crimson Prince.”

“You severed the thrall,” I said, switching tactics. “There were side effects. In the middle of my meeting.”

I caught the flicker in his expression, a momentary downturn of his eyes and the way his shoulders pulled in slightly before he forced them back.

Guilt serve to Aviva.

Ezra nodded tightly, the only acknowledgment or apology I received.

“You promised me two hours,” he said. “I waited far longer. And in all the times you reached out to me psychically, not once did you say you were coming to honor that or even explain the delay. You only wanted to make sure I hadn’t done anything to compromise your position. ”

I winced. Tied score and a pull ahead from the Prime. “We hurt each other.”

“Yeah.” He took my hand. “We’ll do better from now on.”

“Absolutely. We need to be kind to each other because a lot of people aren’t.” I shifted, tucking my leg under me. “How do you handle it? Everyone and their dog feeling free to post their opinions about you? Some that are really horrible. And that’s from people claiming to be your fans.”

“Mostly I ignore it and remind myself whose opinions matter. But I’ve had years to build up a tolerance and you’ve been thrown into the storm.

I wish I could protect you from that, but I can’t.

And once your half-shedim status is out there to the public, it’s going to complicate every goal you’ve ever had for yourself. ”

“You’re right, I should leave you.”

He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and tucked me into his side. “You can try, but I’ll follow.”

“Guess I’m stuck with you, then.” I looked at him with a grimace. “Unless, of course, you get yourself killed.”

He gave me a flat stare. “Aviva?—”

“No. We’re hashing this out. Say you’re successful and stake Natán.”

“As I will be.”

“You need to make it out alive from wherever he’s holed up.”

“I can portal, you know.” He yawned. “In case you’ve forgotten that’s still a thing.”

“Ezra, I’m serious. It’s one thing to waltz in there and quite another to leave in one piece. Murder him and you paint a giant target on your back. Both with the Kosher Nostra and the Authority since you’ll leave a power vacuum they won’t be happy about.”

He was silent but I could practically hear his brain whirring to come up with a strategy to mitigate all the fallout.

Like father like son.

“In the end though,” I said, “none of that matters because even though you despise him and want him dead, you won’t do it. I understand wanting to murder your father; I also understand what mark that bloodshed will leave on your soul. And more importantly, you do too.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. Then his posture changed, not softening exactly, but shifting, like a weapon being lowered. “Damn it, Aviva,” he growled.

I smirked. “Glad you see reason. Besides, our relationship is already on thin ice with the Authority. Do we want to throw conjugal visits in Sector A into the mix?” I teased.

“I mean, you’re no longer enthralled by me, so…” He tapped a finger against his lip.

I laughed and he unfurled a wicked smile that sent heat pooling in my belly. Man, I could really use an orgasm or seven to take the edge off. I mean, connect intimately with my chosen life partner.

I trailed a finger along my décolletage. “In thanks for not killing your father, tonight I’ll be your willing victim. That’s vampire sexy talk, right?” I waggled my eyebrows suggestively. “Did I nail it?”

Ezra shook his head, his eyes dancing in amusement. “You’re ridiculous.”

“That’s a no, then?” I turned away with a pout and was hauled back against his chest.

“Not so fast.” He kissed his way up the side of my throat.

“No deal, no touching.” I shivered.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, his lips vibrating against my skin, “you’re really selling that.”

I was on the verge of saying to hell with it and letting him take me here and now, hot and hard, but I didn’t—not because I exhibited stellar self-control. I didn’t. I was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to be held and cherished.

But I didn’t because vampires were suddenly phasing through the damn wall.

Ezra and I shot to our feet.

Eight of them moved like an assassination team, sliding into position around Ezra with precision and lethal grace.

They didn’t touch him. They didn’t have to. Even the Prime couldn’t take them all—not with me in the crossfire.

None of them were Li’l Hellions. They weren’t common thugs either. Their elegant clothes didn’t soften their ancient eyes, the kind evolved from hunting prey across millennia.

Delacroix joined us via wall-transport. “You fucked up.”

“And now you intend to kill me for whatever this transgression was,” Ezra said, voice flat with boredom.

“I’m not going to kill you .” The shedim stopped in front of me, his eyes colder than I’d ever seen.

I swallowed down a metallic, slightly sour taste. “Drawing on your magic to protect Darsh and Silas was a mistake. We’ve undone the thrall and it won’t happen again.” My voice quivered. “I didn’t even know I was doing it. Your magic felt familiar and right.”

Delacroix sneered at me. “You sniveling pathetic waste. That was the first thing you’d done that I respected. You showed balls defying me.” He leaned in close, red threads flickering in his eyes and his fangs extended. “But you went too far.”

“How?”

“Touch Aviva and you die. So, on second thought”—Ezra motioned at my father—“go ahead.”

“Shut up, Cardoso. You might have had a shot when you were leeching off her magic but not now.” My father pulled a cigarette out from behind his ear and patted his pocket for his matches.

“You sure about that?” Ezra skimmed a hand along his right side, a reminder of the demon’s weak spot.

Delacroix hesitated.

One of the vampires hurried forward with a gold lighter.

What a suck-up. I’d have rolled my eyes, but I was too busy trying to keep my legs from shaking. “What are you accusing me of?”

“Figure it out, girl detective,” the demon mocked. As he flicked the lighter closed, crimson spikes erupted from his neck.

The helpful vampire was impaled. Ash scattered across the floorboards.

Delacroix dropped the cigarette, putting it out.

Goose bumps broke out over my body, my mind frozen.

“I hate kiss asses.” My father stepped through the remains, grinding ash under his heel. “Got an answer for me yet?”

I shook my head, helpless.

None of the strike force vampires even glanced at me, which was a million times more terrifying than if they’d drooled with fangs out. What inhuman control kept them unaffected by both their comrade’s murder and my fear?

Delacroix grabbed my shirtfront and lifted me off the ground. “You killed a freed shedim.”

Ezra shot forward, but the strike force matched his speed. They held him in place—the seven of them barely enough.

“I killed the other demon,” Ezra said. “Take it up with me, not her.”

Delacroix spared him a brief contemptuous glance, then shook me hard.

“I’ve killed them before,” I said, through rattling teeth. “To satiate Cher— This isn’t news to you.”

Delacroix slammed me back onto the ground, and pain lanced up through my left ankle. “I explicitly told you not to touch the prisoners. You chose the Maccabees over me.”

“It wasn’t like that,” I insisted. “I wasn’t even thinking of you or your coup. These shedim were trying to slaughter everyone at HQ!”

The shedim roared and shoved me halfway across the room. “ I am a king! You are a nothing I let live. This is what disobedience earns you.”

I shifted my weight off my injured leg and hunched over, staring through a curtain of tangled hair.

“Since you despise this part of yourself so much,” Delacroix said, “I’m going to rip it out of you.”

Cherry clawed against my skull with a wail, the force of which made me dizzy.

Ice ran down my veins and my ears rang with his words. “I’ll die.”