An American Witch In Paris. Michele Hauf
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on par for Acquisitions,” Ed said. “So, a lure, eh? Why would Gazariel be interested in that witch?”
“She wears his sigil. Or that is the information we have.”
Ed stood and now he gave Tuesday his full attention. She turned from her curious seeking and splayed her hands. “Yep, I’m the demon’s bitch. I carry his curse. And Einstein here thinks that’ll draw him to me. Idiot.”
“He’ll come to you. We just have to get you close enough he puts up his head and notices,” Ethan said. “Give him a sniff of the witch’s scent.”
“He’s not going to be attracted to the one who wears his curse,” Ed said. “Why would he? I know a bit about The Beautiful One. He put an unwanted curse in her many centuries ago when he had the opportunity. And now he’s done with it. I’m not sure of the nature of the curse, but if the demon wants it gone from him, there’s not a thing in this world that would incline him to set one foot near her now. She’s useless.”
“Hey! I can hear you,” Tuesday called. The blue glass sphere she had touched wobbled and rolled off the shelf. She caught it just before it hit the floor. “Oops. Good save, though, yeah?”
“Don’t touch the breakables,” Ethan said, chastising the overly curious witch. And to Ed he said, “Are you serious? But we need her to open that curse and hold Gazariel so he will submit.”
“Why do you need him to submit?”
“He’s got something that Acquisitions wants.”
Ed lifted an eyebrow.
“It’s a book of angel names and sigils. A muse wrote it. It holds the code for the Final Days.”
“Is that thing back in circulation? I thought the angel Raphael had taken it underwing, so to speak?”
“It made a series of exchanges before Raphael secured it from a vampire intent on populating the world with nephilim. Let’s just say it’s been in so many hands, even the Archives’ records are confused as to where it was last seen before landing in the demon’s hands. But I have good intel that The Beautiful One currently has it.”
“Doesn’t sound like a party.”
“It’s not. The list of angel names, when ordered correctly, holds an ancient coded word, or words, that when spoken, will send all angels plummeting to earth to smother mankind with their multitudes. Their wings will burn human flesh, young and old. Paranormals are not exempt, either. The earth will become an ashy cemetery of the mortal, the paranormal and the divine.”
“Whew!” Ed ran a gloved hand through his slick hair. “That’s something you want to stop. But your challenge will be getting the demon to come to you, without knowing you’ve got the witch, and then surprising him with her at just the right moment.”
Ethan’s temples had begun to pulse. He hadn’t expected this particular complication. If he would have known before the demon didn’t want anything to do with the witch, he wouldn’t have bound himself to her until after they’d secured Gazariel. Of course, he needed Tuesday to bring the demon to him. This was a mess. Had she known as much?
Her self-satisfied grin answered that one for him.
“Keep her out of sight until you need her,” Ed suggested.
“Too late. I bound myself to her to keep her close and protect myself from any retaliatory magic.”
“Then you’ve got a problem, Pierce.”
No need to state that one out loud. Tuesday’s soft tsking sounds riled him and Ethan fisted his hands. Yet when he saw her smile beam at sight of his anger, he relented the knuckle-whitening clutch. The witch would not get under his skin. He was smarter than this. And he didn’t need to snap a rubber band to remind him of that.
He turned to Ed. “Can you help by telling me where Gazariel might be?”
“I haven’t a clue.”
“But you keep tabs on all the demons—how can you know he’s in the city and not have a location on him?”
“It’s a feeling, Pierce, not an exact science or even a map. Believe me, I would help you if I could. The Beautiful One is from Beneath, so you might start at l’Enfer.”
The Devil Himself’s nightclub. It was frequented by demons, vamps, werewolves and most any sort looking for dark and devious indulgences. Just the place Ethan wanted to visit. Not.
“Hey, how much you want for this?” Tuesday waggled a pearlescent alicorn she’d found on a shelf.
Ed shrugged. “You can take it.”
“What? Are you serious?” The witch actually tittered with glee. “You do know how valuable this is?”
“It’s...” Ed winced. “I should have never obtained that thing. It was taken from innocence. It’s not something I have a right to own. I’ve been meaning to get rid of it for a while now. You’d be doing me a favor by taking it.”
“Nice!” Tuesday stabbed the air with the thing. “I can so use this.”
Ethan could but shake his head and wish the day would get better.
“I guess you’ll be clubbing then?” Ed offered as he extended his hand to shake.
“Sounds like it.” Ethan thanked the man and started out of the room, knowing Tuesday would have to follow. Sooner or later.
As he got on the elevator, the witch entered, twirling the alicorn gaily. “I got a prize,” she teased.
“What the hell can you do with that thing?”
“You’ll find out soon enough. By the way, I’m going to need some magical supplies. You whisked me away from home and cauldron. I need certain items to work magic, put up wards and generally survive.”
“Like what?”
She shrugged and tapped the alicorn against her jaw. “This is a start. There’s got to be magic shops in the city. And you’ll have to pay, sweetie, since my kidnapper decided against bringing along my purse. And I’ll be needing some clothes as well. Can’t go clubbing looking like this, can I?”
“You like fine. All black and perfectly witchy? You’ll fit right in at l’Enfer.” Ethan checked his watch. It was around six in the evening. A few more hours before the club opened.
“Can a chick get pizza in this town?”
Rolling his eyes, he strolled out as the elevator doors opened. The witch had no taste whatsoever.
At the plain black metal doors to the club l’Enfer, they stopped before the bouncer with red eyes. A sign over his high left shoulder stated, in Latin, what basically translated as “no funny stuff” and “you take your own chances entering.” Tuesday boldly met the bouncer’s gaze and focused her intent toward him. The demon looked down, chastised by her audacity. Served him right. He was young and needed to learn to show respect for his elders.
Blowing him a kiss laced with pizza sauce and some kind of cheese that had not been mozzarella—the French really liked their weird cheeses—she then glided down the dark hallway. The music thudded in her heart and veins. Not worrying whether Ethan gained access, she picked up the beat and danced as she walked.
She sensed the brooding vampire was behind her, and felt his hand go to her hip, as if to guide her through the darkness, but he quickly removed it. Tuesday smiled. Had he forgotten himself for a moment? Thought of her as an actual desirable female he might get close to? She could work with that.
Much as she had developed a liking for clubbing over the last several decades, Tuesday preferred less crowded venues, and with more upbeat