Page 44 of The Demon’s Due (Bedeviled #5)

Killing my boyfriend’s father was an unacceptable follow-up gesture to I love you .

“Absolutely not and you can’t force me.”

“Does it help to know that Natán has been working with alt-right politicians, providing funding for their campaigns and promising to use his power to install them as heads of government? They’ll be his puppets,” Zhengyu said contemptuously.

“So stop him. But not with me.”

“We can shape the narrative for your shedim reveal to the population at large. For all half shedim moving forward.” The smile the other Maccabee gave Michael was the picture of a kindly old gentleman. What a snake. “You did want to discuss moving forward, after all.”

I slammed my hand on the armrest. “Infernals were fine to create when you needed lab rats, right? We’re just not people to you.”

“I think you’re a wonderful operative.” There wasn’t a trace of guile in Zhengyu’s expression.

“Then why didn’t you protect us? You tripped over yourselves to claim Ezra, Natán’s son, but me, the operative who didn’t leave you high and dry? The person who’s faithfully served you for years somehow isn’t worthy of that same regard?”

“Vampires are liked and accepted by much of the world. Infernals are not. We could have done better in that regard but…” Zhengyu shook his head. “All we can do is make amends now.”

“In exchange for murdering my probable father-in-law. That seems reasonable.” I shot Michael a “help me” look.

“This is despicable,” Michael said. “You want Natán gone for good, no surprise there, but to use Aviva of all people?”

“Security around him is insane. She can get close to him, and with her shedim abilities, he’ll never see her coming.”

“You know what I am, he does too.” I shook my head so hard I got dizzy. Though maybe that was the sheer horror of what they were suggesting. “Do what you want. I always knew I’d be taking my chances when I came out about what I was.”

“Maccabees have been quite accepting,” Michael said. “Who’s to say the public won’t be the same?”

“They might.” Zhengyu nodded. “Aviva’s record speaks for itself, and I’d love to hail her as the hero who found a way to stop the Luce. It would be a shame if it got out that infernals were responsible for the Luce getting loose to wreak such devastation on the world in the first place.”

I clenched my fists. “The murder victims who were drained of their blood?!”

He met my eyes. “Not them.”

Check and mate.

Michael slammed her hand on the desk. “If you dare spread that dangerous lie?—”

Zhengyu waved a hand. “The bottom line is that Aviva is an operative, and she’s been tasked with an important mission.” Not once did he lose his genial demeanor. “It’s as you said, Michael. We failed to properly support our vampire operatives during this crisis, and as for Eva Cardoso…”

He looked exhausted but I refused to give in to sympathy.

“We let her down in the worst way possible,” he said. “I won’t let that happen again. But if Aviva is no longer a Maccabee, well, I don’t have that same responsibility toward her.” He stood up. “I’m flying back to Taiwan tonight. I expect your answer—or your ring—by then.”

I glared at the quiet click of the door. “I have to find Ezra.”

“Aviva.”

I froze halfway out of the chair because Mom’s eyes were blurry.

She stared at her Maccabee ring for a long moment, her brows crinkled together, and her lips pressed in a tight line. “I didn’t know about Operation Inferno. Not even with my clearance.”

“I never thought you did.”

She sighed heavily. “What a tangled web. Eva’s death, Birgitte a broken husk, even Natán… He was one of our best.”

It reassured me that the shedim-breeding experiments weren’t worth commenting on.

Michael shook her head. “Poor Ezra. I hope he’s found peace.”

“I think he has.” But if he hadn’t, we had the rest of our lives for me to comfort him and build new, happier memories together, ones that would eventually ease the sting and allow him to remember his mother without pain.

Provided I didn’t murder his dad first. Fuck my life.

Ezra laughed for so long and for so hard after we returned to my condo and I told him what I’d been ordered to do and why, that I worried I’d irrevocably broken him.

“I’ve got a plan,” I said, scooping up the last of the pad Thai.

“Kill him and dance on his grave?”

“ No .”

He nodded. “Right. I should get the honors.”

Apparently, my boyfriend was nowhere near finding peace yet.

“Still no.” I forked a prawn. “The Maccabees want him out of the picture so he can’t pull strings anymore and affect world politics and attitudes toward their power base. Natán doesn’t need to actually be dead for that to happen.”

“He’s not going to quietly retire. Not that the Maccabees would trust it if he did.”

“Right. That’s why we’re going to convince him to fake his death.”

Ezra started his unhinged laughter again.

I snapped my Coke can open in front of his face, startling him and sending fizz up his nose. I’d lost track of how long it had been since I had a proper rest and was more caffeine than blood at this point. “It’s a fun plan. You get to blackmail him.”

The laughter stopped.

Ezra leaned in, his eyes narrowed. “Continue.”

“He loved Eva.”

“And yet he used her death as a sympathy card.”

“Yeah, your father is a manipulative snake, but his reaction to losing her wasn’t fake. I spoke to Michael, and she called some old friends. Do you remember him disappearing for a couple of weeks?”

“I was five, so no.”

“He’d left you with your grandmother, who was panicking because she couldn’t get hold of him.

Some of his friends in Caracas tracked him down.

” I took Ezra’s hand. “He was in a hotel, starved of blood, and trying to die because of what he’d done and how he’d lost her.

He didn’t want to come back and face you. ”

“We’re going to threaten to publicly reveal that weak moment to make him permanently disappear?” Ezra shook his head. “That might have worked at the time, but it’s been too many years.”

“‘Blackmail’ may have been the wrong word,” I conceded. “It’s more of a trade. Your forgiveness for his fake death.”

I braced myself for more laughter.

His icy “no” sliced through the air like a blade.

“That’s your right,” I said. “Luckily, I have a plan B. I’m confident I can appease the Authority so long as Natán cuts all those nutbar politicians loose, steps down as head of his Mafia, and agrees to stay in Babel.”

Ezra shot me a dubious look.

“Appease them provided Michael gets the other directors to agree with that course of action. We don’t hit optimum conditions for dealing with the Luce for another twenty-five hours, and I have until tonight to tell Zhengyu what I’ve decided.”

I’d notified the task force that I was being sent on a side job and would touch base as soon as possible. Final adjustments would have to be hashed out without me.

“That’s plenty of time to fly to Caracas, meet with Natán, and get back.” I batted my lashes at Ezra. “Be a doll and charter me a plane?”

Portaling was faster but I had to sleep.

Ezra came with me, explaining once we were onboard that we weren’t going to Caracas but the island of Margarita off Venezuela’s north coast.

Somebody had been keeping tabs on his father.

Within two minutes of fastening my seat belt, it was clear my boyfriend had no desire to talk, lost to a broody expression and whatever was going on in his head.

That was fine by me. As soon as we hit altitude, I crashed out on one of the sofas, wearing an eye mask, ear plugs, and with a soft blanket pulled up to my nose.

The flight was almost nine hours long, and I slept for every blessed second of it. I even napped in the limo to the luxury villa that Natán had owned for many years, preferring sleep over the view as we wound along dizzying curves up a mountain.

Okay, yes, I may have cracked an eye open now and again for a glimpse of the passing scenery, but the Luce had hit this island as well, and depressed, I quickly closed them again.

The limo driver let us out at the gate of a high white stone fence.

I clocked several security cameras as Ezra punched in the code. After some back-and-forth we’d agreed that it was best not to give Natán a heads-up about our visit, but no one was on hand to challenge our entry.

“Shouldn’t there be guards?” I said.

“Yeah. We should have passed a half dozen on the last approach alone, and I don’t sense anyone around.”

It was early afternoon, but even if vamps who’d been Eishei Kodesh in life couldn’t hack the sun’s tropical rays, surely Natán would employ top-notch human security?

I glanced up at one of the cameras. “Are you sure Natán is even here?”

The gate swung open, beckoning us to enter, but without a formal invitation, how we’d be received was anyone’s guess.

“I thought he was,” Ezra said doubtfully.

Sighing, I followed him up the drive, which swung sharply to the left, preventing any curious passersby from seeing the villa.

The once-tall stately palms lining either side of the road had lost their fronds. Mangos the size of footballs had plummeted off trees, their exploded skins revealing waxy insides swarmed by ants.

The villa was an unremarkable two-level home with red terracotta roof tiles and tinted windows. Then Ezra led me around back, and I gasped.

Tinted windows showcased soaring twenty-foot ceilings and an airy interior with impressive artwork on the walls. Beyond the outdoor kitchen and shaded dining area tiled in lush blue and white was an infinity edge pool overlooking a mountain-to-ocean panorama.

It would have been breathtaking were it not for the effects of the Luce. There was a strained hush over the property, no birdcalls, not even the buzz of mosquitos. Even the breeze limped along like the last strained whisper of a dying patient.

Ezra’s jaw hardened. He hurried to the kitchen door and punched in another code. “He’s here,” he said, stepping inside.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the cool darkness, by which point my boyfriend was gone.

I followed the murmur of Spanish through the living room, up the grand staircase. There were no lights on, and what I’d taken through the windows as an all-white furniture palate was actually draped sheets.

The Spanish was replaced by a hacking cough.

“You find this funny?” Ezra charged.

I backtracked down a different corridor toward his voice.

“It’s darkly amusing, yes,” Natán rasped in his Spanish-accented English. “To think you fell in love with the same thing that Eva killed herself over.”

Oh no he didn’t. Natán and I were about to have a reckoning.