The Redeeming Read online

  The circle of police cars in front of the club and along the side alley destroyed the quiet look of the place. Most of the cops were uniforms from the paranormal division, with some backup from the regular division.

  Samantha climbed out of the car and approached the officer in charge, showing him her ID. “Did the guy inside say he’ll negotiate with me?”

  “He hasn’t said anything at all,” the officer answered, rubbing his close-cropped hair. “Your lieutenant says you can talk him down, so I’m to let you in.”

  “I’m going with her,” Logan announced.

  “I wish you wouldn’t,” Samantha said. “At least not until I know what’s going on. If Tain hasn’t slipped back into insanity, I might be able to reason with him.”

  “If he hasn’t slipped back into insanity?” Logan asked, incredulous. “That’s it. I’m coming with you.” He slid his Sig from his shoulder holster.

  “Please don’t shoot him. You’ll just piss him off.”

  Logan’s jaw tightened. “But it might distract him while you get away. Sorry, sweetie, I have a wolf’s protective instinct. Doesn’t matter that you’re not pack or mate, you’re my friend and partner. He even looks like he’s going to hurt you, he’s going down.”

  “I outrank you. If I tell you to stay put, will you?”

  “Nope.”

  Samantha let our her breath. “All right then, but if you get killed, don’t come crying to me.”

  Logan gave a grim laugh. “You betcha.”

  It was smart to let Logan come in with her, Samantha reasoned, even if the two of them together were no match for an Immortal like Tain. If Tain had retreated into madness, they were screwed. Samantha had seen what he was capable of, and she never wanted to see that again.

  Her heart ached. Last night Tain had bent to kiss her as though he couldn’t stop himself. The warmth of his kiss had lingered in Samantha’s dreams, and she felt it on her lips still. She’d wanted him last night, and the light of day hadn’t changed that.

  But she wanted whatever she had with him to be normal—as normal as things could be with an Immortal. Friends if they couldn’t be lovers. Samantha was half demon; Tain was a rampaging, angry demigod, and they were probably always meant to be star-crossed.

  Logan kept his weapon drawn, and Samantha drew hers. The guns might not work on Tain, but there were demons in there too.

  The first thing Samantha noticed when they went inside was the smell. Demon musk, overpowering and awful. When demons wanted to seduce, they sent out pleasing pheromones to trap the unwary, but these odors had nothing to do with seduction. The demons in here were terrified.

  Three demons, males, in human form, lay inert in the vestibule. They were large men in business suits and had gone down in the act of drawing weapons.

  “Not dead,” Logan said as he checked them. “Just out.”

  Samantha stepped over the motionless bodies, and proceeded with Logan through the heavy door to the main club. All the lights were on, which made the club’s vast open space, three stories high, look strange and a bit seedy. Seduction was easier in half darkness.

  Tain sat on a wooden chair from one of the tables in the middle of the open floor. He’d tilted the chair back, and reposed almost negligently, his arms folded, his duster brushing the floor.

  The walls above him were covered with demons. They hung limply against the brick, some right side up, others upside-down, all pressed there by Tain’s magic. About half of the demons had reverted to their monster-from-hell forms; the others retained their human forms and expensive clothes—suits for the men and slinky dresses for the women.

  The one thing they all had in common was fear. Waves and waves of terror poured down at Samantha and made her want to be sick.

  One of the female demons saw Samantha and shouted down at her. “Help us! Please!”

  Samantha walked steadily forward, but when she was about six feet from Tain’s chair, her feet ceased moving of their own accord. She tried to take another step, but couldn’t. Logan stopped beside her, frowning, feeling the same thing. Whether Tain had erected a magic barrier or simply spelled their feet not to move, Samantha couldn’t tell.

  “Tain,” she said quietly.

  When Tain flicked his gaze to her, Samantha took an involuntary step back, her throat squeezing shut.

  The darkness in Tain’s eyes was vast, drowning out the blue. Whatever had been human in him was gone. He was a god today, powerful, deadly, and consumed with rage so intense it had swallowed everything sane inside him.

  “Go back outside, Samantha,” Tain said clearly. “Tell them I wouldn’t negotiate.”

  Samantha’s heart pounded in fast, dull beats. “I can’t do that.” She wished her voice sounded stronger, but it rasped. “My lieutenant expects me to bring you in and save the day. I have the feeling my future promotions will be riding on this, so how about you do me a favor and come outside with me?”

  Dark magic flashed out of him. “Don’t try to cajole me.” He gestured to the demons on the walls. “Do you want to know what they told me?”

  “Tell me outside. McKay will want to hear it, too.”

  “I don’t work for law enforcement. Your procedure is too slow, and I like to be direct.”

  No kidding. “Well, barging into a club and sticking everyone up on the walls is certainly direct,” Samantha said.

  Tain gave her a flint-hard stare. “Put away your guns. This isn’t a TV show, and someone might get hurt.”

  “All right.” Samantha made a show of taking one hand from her Glock and stowing the pistol in the holster at the small of her back. Logan slid his Sig back into his shoulder holster, his eyes white with his wolf’s anger.

  “There, gun gone.” Samantha showed Tain her empty hands.

  “Don’t patronize me. This one . . .” Tain shoved a demon in a black business suit higher up the wall than the others. “Is Kemmerer. He sent the demons against Merrick’s club. He said he’s trying to expand and wants the beach towns. He considers Merrick fair game.”

  Shit, not good. If Merrick found out Kemmerer was after his territory, Merrick would go on the warpath, and the clan battles would begin.

  “I asked him about Nadia,” Tain continued. “He admitted to grabbing Nadia and her sister off the street, but he claims he had nothing to do with the torture and murder. What he did was sell the two girls to the people who wanted them.”

  Samantha looked up at the defiant Kemmerer, her loathing nearly matching the anger she saw in Tain’s eyes. “Slavery is illegal,” she said to Kemmerer. “By demon law as well as human.”

  Kemmerer glared down at her, still the indignant club owner who’d been invaded. Idiot.

  “Are you sure you want me to let him go?” Tain asked her.

  Samantha itched to tell Tain to knock Kemmerer’s head against the wall a few more times, but she let out a breath. “We have to do it by the book, or we can’t make the charges stick.”

  “It would be faster if I ripped off his head. I can do it for you.” Tain held up his finger and thumb as though the demon’s neck were between his grip. Kemmerer’s defiance turned to fear, and he made strangling noises.

  “I wish I could let you,” Samantha said, meaning it.

  “I’m strong enough to kill everyone in this room,” Tain said in a calm voice that was somehow more frightening than his rage. “I can do it without even breathing hard. They made me strong on purpose, and here I am, so powerful they don’t know what to do with me. What would they do if I became uncontrollable?”

  Samantha had no idea what Tain was talking about and wasn’t sure she’d like it if she did. Logan shot her a sideways glance, and Samantha shook her head the tiniest bit.

  “Should I test this?” Tain asked, as though half to himself. Kemmerer rose higher, the gurgling in his throat becoming more pronounced.

  Samantha looked at Tain’s eyes. The darkness had receded, and now they were lake-blue again. The surface looked quiet, eve
n calm, but Samantha sensed that beneath that surface lurked a roiling, churning pain more vast than she could imagine. Tain was trying to relay to her what he was going through, giving her a glimpse of the anguish that surpassed all anguish in the world.

  It was the most frightening thing Samantha had ever seen. She could think of only one thing to do. She pulled out her cell phone and started scrolling through numbers.

  “Who are you summoning?” Tain asked without much interest. “Your SWAT team?”

  “No,” Samantha said, thumb hovering over the button that would complete the call. “Leda. All I have to do is push this, and she knows everything.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Oh, Samantha.” Tain’s voice remained powerful, but it was tinged with the slightest bit of amusement and respect. “You play dirty.”

  “Against Immortals? I’ve learned to.”

  The wild magic subsided the tiniest amount, Tain sounding more normal. “Put away your phone. I’ll leave with you. Just you,” he said as Logan straightened up. “If you promise to set up a meeting with the Lamiah clan matriarch, I’ll walk out with you, Samantha, without hurting anyone.”

  “A meeting with the matriarch?” Samantha asked. “That sounds very tame. You mean you won’t just burst into her mansion and blast everyone senseless?”

  Tain shrugged as he rose from his chair. “These are thugs who live by manipulating humans with their magic,” he said, waving a hand at the hanging demons. “The clan leaders are somewhat more civilized. The matriarch will hear me if nothing else.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Samantha said with caution.

  “You will do it. I’ll walk out with you now, and you’ll take me beyond your circle of police and leave with me.”

  “They won’t let you go,” Samantha said. “The cops will follow us and arrest you.”

  “Don’t tell him that,” Logan growled at her. “No way am I letting him take you hostage.”

  “They won’t follow me,” Tain said. “They’ll forget about me once we pass. What your partner and your boss decide to do with the demons in here is their own business.”

  Samantha dropped her cell phone back into her pocket, still wary. “Fine.”

  “Samantha,” Logan said. If he’d been wolf, his hackles would have been up and rippling.

  “We don’t have much choice,” Samantha told him. “I agree with Tain that Kemmerer is a shithead. Do with him what you want.”

  Tain walked to Samantha, his duster moving with his stride. When he reached her, he turned her around and put his hand on her shoulder. Samantha hoped he couldn’t feel her shaking.

  The demons still hovered in midair. Would Tain let them fall, or would he turn around and strike them dead as he went? Samantha felt tension shimmering through Tain’s body, the towering rage she’d seen in him held back with Herculean effort.

  “What happened to make you do this?” she whispered to him.

  “Walk.”

  Samantha led him out past Logan, heading for the main entrance. She stepped over the demons sprawled in the vestibule and out into the balmy early morning.

  “Don’t shoot,” she said to the waiting uniforms, her hands spread. “I’m bringing him out.”

  The uniforms didn’t lower their weapons, and as Samantha walked by, their eyes glazed over. They kept their guns trained on the open door, as though waiting for someone else equally as deadly to emerge.

  “Keep walking,” Tain said to Samantha.

  “What did you do to them?”

  “Simple magic. They’ll remember rushing here to arrest the demon leader for kidnapping Nadia and her sister, and Logan will take, as you say, the kudos for it.”

  “And what will we be doing?”

  “Talking to your father.”

  Samantha and Tain had walked beyond the circle of police vehicles without any of the uniforms or the officer in charge noticing. The street was relatively quiet after that, the people there focused on watching what the police were up to. Their eyes didn’t track Tain or Samantha as the two of them walked by.

  “What did you have in mind for transportation?” Samantha asked, her jaw clenched so her teeth wouldn’t chatter. “My truck is at home, and I can’t take Logan’s car and leave him stranded.”

  “That’s all right,” Tain said, his hand warm on her shoulder. “I don’t mind taking the bus.”

  They took a taxi. Samantha found it surreal to be sitting next to Tain and his swords in the shadowy backseat of a musty-smelling cab at seven in the morning, while the driver sped them up the Pasadena Freeway.

  As he’d done in her truck last night, Tain sat close enough that Samantha could feel his warmth and smell the scents of the night that clung to his coat. His intense life magic could knock her out of the taxi, and she marveled that the driver didn’t seem to notice.

  “Why did you let me lead you out of there?” Samantha asked Tain in a low voice.

  “I was finished.” He sounded so logical, so calm now.

  “What made you go into that club the first place?”

  Tain looked out the window, passing lights flickering yellow-white bands across his face. “It was the club closest to the alley where I found Nadia. I wondered why whoever had captured her had chosen to release her there, and I figured that alley was probably where they’d snatched her in the first place.”

  “Good deduction,” Samantha said. “I’m sure Logan will be happy to interrogate Kemmerer. What happened to Nadia truly pissed Logan off.”

  “And me.”

  That’s the trouble with being paranormal police, Samantha thought. Sometimes our true natures want swift and final justice. But we have to work within the law, while people like Tain are outside it.

  The taxi dropped them at the end of the driveway of Samantha’s parents’ house in Pasadena, a quiet neighborhood showing no signs that last year it had been overrun by demon gangs. Her mother’s geraniums grew undisturbed in the front garden in the early morning light, and the stucco house with the tile roof and small windows was calm and welcoming.

  Samantha’s father lived here with her mother now. For a long time Samantha had hated Fulton, believing him to have coerced and abducted her mother, as demons did. She’d come to understand, though, that Fulton had fallen in love with Joanne, her mother, and had kept away only because he knew Samantha hadn’t been ready to accept him as her father. Samantha had been skeptical and angry, but when Joanne had disappeared last year, Samantha had seen exactly how much Fulton loved her and worried for her.

  Samantha and Fulton had worked together to find Joanne, and Samantha had watched her parents embrace with the frantic joy of two people who’d believed they’d never see each other again.

  The past year had been difficult, but Samantha had gradually come to know the man who was her father, and Fulton to understand Samantha a little. Joanne had never been so happy, and for her sake, Samantha was willing to try.

  Fulton answered Samantha’s knock and greeted her with delighted surprise. He was a demon male who’d made himself look about thirty-five, but Samantha knew he was more than a hundred years old. He was dark haired, brown eyed, and handsome.

  “Your mother popped out to the store for more milk while I cook breakfast,” Fulton said over his shoulder as they followed him in. He picked up a spatula he’d left on the hall table and headed back to the kitchen. “I’m mastering banana pancakes.”

  “My favorite,” Samantha said.

  “I know. Joanne told me. I wanted to practice.”

  That her estranged father would try to make her favorite childhood food made Samantha’s eyes sting. She and Tain followed him into the kitchen, where Fulton frowned at a griddle as it heated on top of the stove.

  “This one’s different,” Fulton said, but Samantha knew he wasn’t talking about the griddle.

  “This is Tain, Hunter’s brother,” Samantha clarified.

  “I thought he might be one of those Immortals.” Fulton glanced at Tain
, his expression guarded. “I’ve never felt life magic so concentrated before. Makes me sick to my stomach.”

  “He’ll behave himself.” Samantha shot Tain a look, which he ignored.

  Samantha explained about Nadia, and Tain’s wish to talk to the Lamiah clan matriarch. While she spoke, Tain wandered about the kitchen, studying everything from the clock on the wall to the stovetop griddle. Fulton flipped pancakes, scowling when Samantha told him how Nadia’s sister had been killed.

  “That was done by someone who knew precisely how to kill demons,” Fulton said. “A demon can’t recover from his or her heart being torn out.”

  “Not many people can,” Samantha said dryly.

  “Vampires can,” Fulton said. “They die when a stake is driven through their rotted hearts, but that’s more symbolic than biological. They’re the only race that can be killed by a metaphor.”

  Samantha didn’t smile. “It’s my job to know how to kill a demon if necessary. But the average person on the street doesn’t have that knowledge or ability.”

  “We’re not looking for the average person on the street,” Tain said. He’d moved to the French doors that led to the small backyard and looked out at Joanne’s collection of succulents and colorful annuals. “Demons know how to kill other demons.”

  “Vamps know how to kill demons too,” Fulton said. “I’d bank on vampires doing this.”

  “Vampire activity has been subdued since Septimus took over,” Tain said. “While demons still fight for domination throughout the city.”

  Fulton looked stubborn. “It doesn’t sound as though Nadia’s death is the result of a demon gang trying to muscle out another demon gang. This was a deliberate act of murder, and sending the girl’s heart back was a signal. A message to other demons.”

  “That doesn’t rule out the possibility that one demon clan wants to declare war on another,” Tain said, turning from the window. “That is why I wish to speak to your matriarch.”