Roca leapt out of the door.
Nine
H is hat was tipped forward on his head, and the smoke of a cigarette rose from his hand. It was clear from the way he leaned against the wall that he was waiting for someone. Somehow, De la Roca got the feeling he knew she was there.
"Hello." He raised the hat back slightly, his eyebrows darting up when he caught sight of her. She had both guns drawn and pointed square at his head.
"Can I help you?" Her cold voice negated any sincerity in the question.
"Well, I don’t know. I'm here to see the Mademoiselle, but last time I heard, she didn't carry a gun."
De la Roca squinted, and she felt her finger squeeze the trigger ever-so-slightly. "The Mademoiselle is currently indisposed. Perhaps you should come back later."
Alsvior whickered, a cue that she understood and agreed with— shoot now, and ask questions later . Her forefinger squeezed a little more, until a thought whipped into her mind— what if he was a friend of the Mademoiselle? Nobody knew exactly how powerful she was, but you didn’t want to make enemies with anybody that controlled a waypoint to Hell unless you had to.
Damn .
The man seemed to sense her hesitation and relaxed visibly, shooting her a grease-laden smile.
I should blow him away, the cocky prick.
As he tipped his hat up further, she caught sight of his eyes, green— no, hazel —with flecks of gold. Human or demon, it was a rare combination. Worse, their dancing light made it clear that he was laughing at her.
She reconsidered pulling the trigger.
"I see." He drew the words out slightly. "In that case, will you give her my regards?" He turned to leave and began to walk away, only to pause a few steps later, as if in an afterthought. "Hate to be a bother, but you wouldn’t happen to know how to get to the Phoenix Well, would you?"
De la Roca's guns had both sagged slightly as the newcomer turned to leave. Instantly, her arms flashed back up, electrified, one pointed at his forehead and one at his heart. With demons, you could never be sure as to the exact location of any vital organ, but her chosen targets were a good place to start.
"Now where, exactly , did you hear that name?" Her hiss, hard and sibilant, reminded her of the serpent's-voice. Could that voice actually be her own, another part of her?
"I don’t know what you mean, lady. My next assignment is at the Phoenix Well and that's why I need to find it. Unfortunately, I'm not from around here, and there aren't too many safe people in my line of work— our line of work, De la Roca."
Her eyes flashed open with surprise, but only momentarily. He looks like a mercenary, too—of course he knows my name. That didn’t exactly make him a friend. And why didn't she know who he was? "And what, exactly, would you be hunting up there?"
"Oh, the same as you, I suppose. There's only one individual up at the Phoenix Well."
She bristled, a slew of calculating questions stampeding through her mind. He talks about it like it’s a place, a rock formation or a mountain. And if he's hunting the same demon, who sent him? Could it have been the Angel? Does that mean the Angel expects me to fail?
The kevra stone pulsed once, lazily, as if to remind her of an option she hadn't considered.
Of course. She wasn’t sure how well the power would work on a demon, especially as she hadn’t begun to come close to mastering it, but it was worth a shot.
He is a demon, right? The Angel wouldn’t send a human. Then again, who knew how an angel worked and what tools they chose?
Urgently, she burrowed deeper into herself, reaching for the dark part where the stone lay. It thrummed as it stirred, the power coiling lazily in her entrails. With a sudden rush, it pummeled through her body, pushing her toward the abyss of his mind. She sighed, steadying herself, and then she leaned
Nine
H is hat was tipped forward on his head, and the smoke of a cigarette rose from his hand. It was clear from the way he leaned against the wall that he was waiting for someone. Somehow, De la Roca got the feeling he knew she was there.
"Hello." He raised the hat back slightly, his eyebrows darting up when he caught sight of her. She had both guns drawn and pointed square at his head.
"Can I help you?" Her cold voice negated any sincerity in the question.
"Well, I don’t know. I'm here to see the Mademoiselle, but last time I heard, she didn't carry a gun."
De la Roca squinted, and she felt her finger squeeze the trigger ever-so-slightly. "The Mademoiselle is currently indisposed. Perhaps you should come back later."
Alsvior whickered, a cue that she understood and agreed with— shoot now, and ask questions later . Her forefinger squeezed a little more, until a thought whipped into her mind— what if he was a friend of the Mademoiselle? Nobody knew exactly how powerful she was, but you didn’t want to make enemies with anybody that controlled a waypoint to Hell unless you had to.
Damn .
The man seemed to sense her hesitation and relaxed visibly, shooting her a grease-laden smile.
I should blow him away, the cocky prick.
As he tipped his hat up further, she caught sight of his eyes, green— no, hazel —with flecks of gold. Human or demon, it was a rare combination. Worse, their dancing light made it clear that he was laughing at her.
She reconsidered pulling the trigger.
"I see." He drew the words out slightly. "In that case, will you give her my regards?" He turned to leave and began to walk away, only to pause a few steps later, as if in an afterthought. "Hate to be a bother, but you wouldn’t happen to know how to get to the Phoenix Well, would you?"
De la Roca's guns had both sagged slightly as the newcomer turned to leave. Instantly, her arms flashed back up, electrified, one pointed at his forehead and one at his heart. With demons, you could never be sure as to the exact location of any vital organ, but her chosen targets were a good place to start.
"Now where, exactly , did you hear that name?" Her hiss, hard and sibilant, reminded her of the serpent's-voice. Could that voice actually be her own, another part of her?
"I don’t know what you mean, lady. My next assignment is at the Phoenix Well and that's why I need to find it. Unfortunately, I'm not from around here, and there aren't too many safe people in my line of work— our line of work, De la Roca."
Her eyes flashed open with surprise, but only momentarily. He looks like a mercenary, too—of course he knows my name. That didn’t exactly make him a friend. And why didn't she know who he was? "And what, exactly, would you be hunting up there?"
"Oh, the same as you, I suppose. There's only one individual up at the Phoenix Well."
She bristled, a slew of calculating questions stampeding through her mind. He talks about it like it’s a place, a rock formation or a mountain. And if he's hunting the same demon, who sent him? Could it have been the Angel? Does that mean the Angel expects me to fail?
The kevra stone pulsed once, lazily, as if to remind her of an option she hadn't considered.
Of course. She wasn’t sure how well the power would work on a demon, especially as she hadn’t begun to come close to mastering it, but it was worth a shot.
He is a demon, right? The Angel wouldn’t send a human. Then again, who knew how an angel worked and what tools they chose?
Urgently, she burrowed deeper into herself, reaching for the dark part where the stone lay. It thrummed as it stirred, the power coiling lazily in her entrails. With a sudden rush, it pummeled through her body, pushing her toward the abyss of his mind. She sighed, steadying herself, and then she leaned
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