Chapter 9

“Dante forgot to include this level of Hell.” Sachie scrunched up her nose, a razor’s edge to her voice, like she’d just tasted something sour.

We stared out my car window at the venue down the block in a suburban retail area. A hefty tip for the cabbie, the world’s fastest clothing change back at the condo, and me driving like a Formula 1 driver—or like my best friend—had gotten us here with seven minutes to spare.

A faded sign proclaimed the building where the handover was to occur “Lollipop Lane Play Palace.”

“That right there is why I’m never having kids.” My friend jabbed a finger at the front of the Play Palace, where garish faces of leering children were painted against a field of planted lollipops. If that wasn’t bad enough, the largest lollipop boasted “multiple candy-land themed attractions!” like it was a plus.

The levels of awful awaiting us inside were too much for my brain to compute. All I could stutter out was “Why?”

“It’s a demon invention to destroy a parent’s soul?” Sach shrugged. “Fuck if I know.”

“Why choose this place for the handover?” I pulled up the website on my phone. “Let’s see, two-story climbing structure, toddler area, ball pit?—”

Sachie shuddered. “I watched a news report about ball pits. Percolating stews of fecal matter. They intend to push Maud in. This isn’t about blackmail. It’s straight-up murder.”

I flicked through the photo gallery. “The danger zone is that central climbing structure. Look.” I shared the screen. “First there’s the section with those punching bag–looking things to bounce between, then it’s a rope ladder with netting on both sides blocking you in.”

“It’s a kill chute.” Sach grimaced. “What kind of sicko thought that was suitable for children?”

“I’m going to say someone who just wanted kids to have a fun experience and isn’t always looking for the dark side?”

“Na?ve fools,” she scoffed. “But it’s wrong that they’re making Maud do the drop inside. It should have been somewhere in the open where they could watch her leave the envelope and go. They haven’t even specified where to place the cash.”

At a noise outside the car, I peered in the side mirror but it was just a raccoon. I checked the time. “Maud should be here any minute.”

“I understand why she came to you,” Sachie said, “given you saved her from Delacroix, but is she actually an infernal?” My friend was a dark shadow in the seat next to me so I couldn’t see her expression, but she didn’t sound disgusted. Mystified, but not horrified.

“Of course she isn’t.”

“I’ll admit she doesn’t fit the profile, but you only have her word for that.”

“What profile?” I turned toward my best friend and partner, my gut in knots, and my dream of this evening ending with Sachie hugging me in Cherry Bomb form exploding into smithereens. “The humanitarians who were ritually slaughtered? That thirteen-year-old boy?”

Sach flapped a hand. “Of the six murder victims, four were good people. Maybe five. We didn’t have enough information about one of them to build a profile. They were outliers though. The final one was a gang member with a rap sheet. A criminal like all other infernals we hear about.”

“Infernals are a minuscule part of the world’s population, and they stay hidden for their own safety. How would you hear about ones that are just like you and me?” My stomach clenched tighter as I waited for her answer.

“I guess,” Sach admitted, “but Maud is a poker player. She lies for a living.” That was rich, coming from someone who hid weapons on herself for a living.

“Bluffing isn’t lying, nor is it illegal,” I retorted through gritted teeth. “It’s a basic tactic in that game.”

“Yeah, but she’s world-champion good at it.” Sachie unbuckled her seat belt. “On the other hand, I wouldn’t think an infernal could fall victim to a vamp’s schemes and be compelled to go after Delacroix. Though it makes sense why the vamp chose her. Use a demon to kill a demon.”

That was the exact rationale Maud and I hoped people would give should they find out about her, but hearing those prejudices said so matter-of-factly still grated.

I snapped my seat belt open. “Speculating about someone being an infernal could cause them a lot of harm.”

“That’s true, but if she is one, shouldn’t we know that?”

“Why?”

“I dunno, Avi.” She threw her hands up. “We make vamps register so we can track them, maybe we should do the same with infernals.”

I gaped at her, shaking my head like that could rewind time and suck those words out of my brain. “You want half shedim tracked?” I grabbed my purse off the middle console and rooted inside for a mint or some gum. Anything to wash away the metallic taste in my mouth. “Darsh is one of your best friends. Do you tell him you’re glad that vampires must be registered?”

“I’m not glad about it, but that practice isn’t going away. So, isn’t it fair that people with a half-demon side be registered? Not all vamps are bad. All shedim are. And yes, with some infernals, their humanity wins out, but what about all the others? Just because we haven’t heard about them doesn’t mean they’re not out there being evil. They might just be smart enough not to get caught.”

I shoved three pieces of gum in my mouth, chewing with a tight jaw. Ever since Sachie had learned the murder victims were half shedim, she’d differentiated the “good infernals,” the ones deserving justice, from the others. “How would you prove whether a person is an infernal or not? Torture that reveal out of them? Because historically that’s how it goes.”

Sachie pulled down the visor to look in the mirror while she smoothed her hair. “Ever since that murder case, you’ve been all in on the side of infernals.”

“I’m all in on the side of people in general and half shedim are people.”

“They’re also demons.” Sach spread her hands wide.

Our fingers were close enough to brush together. A flicker of understanding fluttered in my chest, reminding me of the countless nights we’d spent discussing the intricacies of good versus evil. Sach had always been driven by an unwavering sense of justice, her convictions carved into her very core.

Same as mine.

Funny, that our black-and-white views on right and wrong weren’t the same all-encompassing circle, but a Venn diagram with infernals in the center.

I gripped the door handle, scared that if I reached out, Sachie would just keep getting farther and farther away, those final millimeters a vast chasm that we could never breach.

A rap on the window made me jump.

Maud stood outside the car, her shoulders hunched. She was dressed in a nondescript black jacket, with her hair tucked under a fleece cap.

I popped the lock and Maud scrambled into the back seat.

“Here.” She held out her red coat to Sach, along with a matching hat. My friend put on the coat while Maud leaned forward between the seats. “You really think this will work? I’m Chinese and you’re Japanese.”

Sachie snorted, carefully hiding her short pink hair under the hat before affixing an earpiece to her left ear. “You think a blackmailer has racial sensitivity? We’re roughly the same height and build. We’re Asian. We’re female. It’ll work. Besides, anyone who looked into you is prepped for yellow flame magic. You know, the lie you fed everyone to keep your real blue flame abilities hidden.” She shot me a pointed look.

“Because Maud’s particular fire sight talents are so rare, it would have made her a target,” I said. “Either way, they won’t anticipate a trained operative with orange flame magic.”

“Surprising bad guys is such fun.” Sachie held out her hand for the manila envelope with the cash. Given there was ten thousand Canadian in there, it wasn’t as thick as I expected.

“Sach?” I touched my own earpiece to turn it on.

She stilled, halfway out of the car.

“Be careful.”

“Always.” With that, she headed down the block to the Play Palace, keeping to the shadows.

Maud gnawed on a cuticle. “Now what?”

“Watch.”

Between the car and the parking lot in front of the building, Sachie’s entire posture changed. She hunched her shoulders up to her ears, darting nervous glances around every few seconds and practically white-knuckling the manila envelope. When she reached the glass front doors of the play center, she swore under her breath in Japanese. She whispered but I heard her loud and clear through the earpiece.

“Report,” I said.

“It’s like a paint store threw up in there,” she whined. “They won’t need to punch me in the head to disorient me, just make me stare at that carpet for ten seconds.” She sighed. “Lots of hiding places to ambush a victim, but there’s a pirate ship just past the entrance that you should be able to get to undetected.” She gave another sigh that was really more of a growl and wrenched the door open.

“I’m going in as backup,” I explained to Maud. “Stay put.”

She didn’t listen, insisting as she ran behind me that she was a million times safer sticking by my side.

I tugged on the door, the glass now opaque. “Fuck!” I kicked it but it didn’t even crack.

“Over there.” Maud sprinted off.

“Sach, check in,” I said steadily.

“Hello?” she tremulously called out.

Good. She was unharmed.

By the time Maud returned, I’d picked the lock and was stashing the tiny tool kit inside my jacket pocket. I rolled the shopping cart she’d brought with her to one side. “Was I supposed to use this to smash the door down?”

“I didn’t know what else to do.”

“It’s not your job to figure that out. It was to, what was it again?” I snapped my fingers. “Stay in the car. But if you won’t do that, then quit talking.” I opened the door to the Play Palace.

“Old MacDonald Had a Farm” as sung by a cheerful midlevel marketer and a chorus of sugared-up preschoolers blasted out from the main room into the reception area. It was reminiscent of the musical torture the US Army used to flush out a military leader in the late ’80s.

Yet that annoying tactic fell a distant second to the massive scythe embedded in the wall behind the check-in desk, the rope securing it to an overhead pipe pulled taut.

I pried Maud’s fingers off my shoulder. “It was designed to scare, not kill,” I whispered. “See? It’s well above head height. You sure you won’t wait in the car?”

She shook her head, the expressionless mask that had won her world titles snapping into place.

“Stay behind me and stay close.” I unsheathed a dagger from my thigh holder and crept toward the pirate ship.

Honestly, it was more like I bounced forward. Silas was still locked up and in danger, and I was about to not only see Ezra for the first time in two months, but possibly destroy my career with the Maccabees by being a party to Silas’s rescue. However, I stood by my belief that Ezra shouldn’t do this alone. Plus, Sach and I bore some responsibility for our roles, albeit unwitting ones.

I was eager to burn off all the angry energy bouncing around inside me with a chase, or better still, a brutal fight.

Cherry cast her vote.

The emergency lights and light pollution coming through the back glass wall provided the only illumination to navigate by, leaving the room shrouded in shadows. Given the three different carpet patterns, slides painted in every single color, and plastic plant life and animal statues in tacky shades not existing in nature, all I could say was God help anyone who saw it properly lit up. Two seconds of visual exposure now left my head throbbing and my shoulders tight.

I ushered Maud into one of the low arched entrances on the pirate ship, ducking under a lion who inexplicably sat with his feet dangling over the side. They hadn’t even given him an eyepatch or a hat or a pegleg. Aesthetically and thematically, this place was shit.

I crouched in the belly of the ship, sticking to the shadows while tracking Sach through one of the low arches.

She stood in the center of the room in front of the main climbing structure, turning in a slow circle, the envelope held up. “You can have the money. I’m no infernal. Please don’t destroy my career.”

A plastic cannon swiveled toward her, firing plastic balls with a series of tha-wumps.

Sach threw herself sideways, missing most of the volley, but she whacked her knee on the way down.

I strained against the urge to rush to my partner’s rescue, because I had to let her attacker show themselves. Even Cherry held herself in check.

Other than Maud’s muted gasp from behind me, all was still for a second. Well, all except for a dance remix of “Baby Shark.” New level of Hell unlocked.

Suddenly, two vamps built like brick shithouses rose silently from the ball pit, dislodging showers of colorful plastic.

Disguise discarded, Sachie ran to meet them with a deranged grin.

I sighed and shoved Maud deeper into the shadows in the belly of the ship. “Stay here,” I ordered, and jumped into the fray.

Sachie had unleashed her orange magic on the ball pit duo, but two more flung themselves from tunnels on the second level of the climbing structure to box me in.

I rushed the closest one, slicing his side with a dagger.

He hissed, then just stood there, staring at his injury in confusion.

I narrowed my eyes. Where was the follow-up? For that matter, how had Sachie already dispatched the bigger of her two opponents?

My other attacker raced forward—a sprint, not a blur, allowing me to step out of his path. Poor baby couldn’t stop and correct his course, and he crashed into a plastic slide with a grunt.

I lunged and swiped my blade at the bloodsucker that I’d already cut.

He dodged it with all the grace of a baby calf getting to its feet for the first time, confirming my suspicions.

I grabbed his arm, stabbed him, and danced away.

What second-rate blackmailer sent Nippers—newbie vamps—as muscle? This crew was so recently turned, they were still finding their footing. And the dude who was bleeding had warm skin.

The vamps hadn’t even shown up hungry, which would have compensated for their lack of coordination.

I spun at a loud crack, finding Sachie rubbing her jaw, murder in her eyes.

“You said she’d change,” one of them said, flexing his hand.

Oh shit. I whipped my gaze up. A half dozen mounted security cameras with steady red recording lights were trained on us.

My inattention cost me. A blinding pain shot through my head, my vision doubling, then tripling. I spat on the ground, tasting blood, then dropped into a crouch, my blade at the ready.

Bleeding Vamp ran at me. It was almost comical how he tried to turn his unsteady lumber into lethal speed. Except for the part that there was still an enormous undead fiend bearing down on me and if he grabbed me, he’d snap me like a twig.

I held my ground, ignoring my brain screaming at me to run. The second he launched himself off the ground to tackle me from above, I also jumped, shoving my knife upward into his gut.

His body crashed down, pinning me for a second.

Luckily, I also had a stake at the ready. I plunged it into his heart, and he disintegrated in a shower of ash. I wiped my sleeve across my mouth and leapt to my feet.

A quick glance showed that Sachie had killed her two vamps and taken on my other opponent, which was nice of her. I owed her a poutine for that. Their fight raged over the playground equipment. Having slides, ropes, and tunnels to contend with, though, did not turn this battle into some cool feat of choreography.

She waited for him to catch up, slowly and precisely turning him into shriveled-up jerky with her orange flame magic.

“Stop toying with him,” I called over my shoulder, jogging toward a door marked “Employees Only.” Hopefully I’d find the security system there to erase the video footage.

“He needs to learn to put some effort in it.” Stake in hand, Sach beckoned the vamp forward like Morpheus in The Matrix .

Maud screamed.

I reversed course, sprinting for her and skidding around a carousel made for toddlers.

A fifth vampire had her by the throat, squeezing the air out of her while slamming her back against the wall.

Her eyes glowed toxic green.

My pulse spiked. I ran at him, skidding at the last minute along the ground to slice his Achilles.

Howling, he crashed to one knee, dropping Maud. He was short, skinny, and without his enhanced strength, wouldn’t have been much of an opponent.

Sachie was still occupied with her vamp, so that meant rescuing Maud was on me. And I’d damn well better act fast, because she was sucking in a deep breath, shaking and fighting for control.

“Snap out of it,” I ordered, though I patted her shoulder. “The staff room. Find the video footage.” I pushed her away. “And get yourself under control.”

Maud shot me a hurt look, but protecting her—from Sachie and from whomever was recording us—was more important than having her like me.

I shook off the sting in my chest. “Go!”

She ran.

I spun sharply at a noise behind me, caught the vamp by his arm, and used his momentum against him to throw him to the carpet. “You’re undead. You don’t need to breathe.”

He started to get up, but I kicked his bleeding Achilles tendon with my pointy-toed boot, and he fell back with a howl. “Bitch.” His ears, which stuck out unfortunately far from his head, and his crooked nose were familiar.

“I know you.” I snapped my fingers. “Zaven Barsamian. You were part of the crew doing those home invasions in Brentwood a few years ago. Did your time and figured your best path forward was to be turned, did you? Why did you think Maud was an infernal?”

He shrugged. “You hear things.”

I stomped on his hand, dropped to my knees before he could recover, and slammed the blade through his palm, pinning him to the ground. “Yeah? From who? I love a good game of telephone.”

“You have no idea who you’re messing with.” Zaven tore free with a snarl and grabbed my hair, freezing when I pressed my stake against his pec.

“This looks fun.” Sachie stood over us, twirling her own stake.

“Highlight of my day.” I dug the tip into Zaven’s chest, tearing his Henley. “Let go.”

His grip on my scalp tightened and I winced.

Sachie waved her weapon at him. “I’d do as she says. Her hair takes forever to grow back, and she gets very cranky. Ask her about the incident with the gum.”

I tried to lower my heart rate, but at this close range, Zaven had the advantage. He could easily rip the weapons from my grasp and break my neck.

My only hope was the way he warily looked between his still-healing Achilles, and Sach and me.

He tossed me off him and scooted back.

I rubbed my tailbone. “Who hired you?”

“Who turned you?” Sachie said.

I pointed at her. “One and the same? We can easily find out who changed you, then we’ll tell them you ratted them out about this job.”

Zaven laughed. “Good luck with that.”

“Not the same person.” Sach scratched her chin. “Thanks for confirming that.”

His face fell.

“Was this a test?” I said. Zaven chose to be turned; he wanted power. “A job interview for one of the local vamp mobs?”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Nobody’s fucking testing me and I’m not some goon for hire. It was my plan. Got it?”

“Criminal mastermind. Check,” I said sarcastically.

“My. Fucking. Plan.” Zaven wasn’t scared and taking the fall for someone. He was furious that I didn’t believe him.

I narrowed my eyes. This wasn’t a test; it was a tactical move designed to impress. But who? Before I could figure out how to send Sachie away and question Zaven more freely, I was knocked sideways. I blinked, but Zaven hadn’t moved.

No, I’d been hip-checked by Maud, who was wielding an industrial stapler that she clocked Zaven in the head with. “I’M. NOT. AN. INFERNAL! You fucking vampire!” Her fury lent weight to our lie that she’d been compelled by a different vamp when she kidnapped Calista and tried to kill Delacroix.

Zaven clutched his bleeding head with a dazed expression.

Wow. Those staplers were sturdy. Sachie was already eyeing it in possibility.

“Focus,” I murmured.

She pulled Maud away mid-swing, but my sister tore free and snatched Sachie’s stake, shoving it into the convenient “X marks the spot” tear I’d made in Zaven’s shirt.

Contrary to film and television, it wasn’t easy to jam a piece of pointy wood through muscle and ribs. Vamp magic made them more susceptible, but most people still couldn’t pull it off, which was good, because human vigilantes going around getting themselves killed would be a disaster.

Zaven flung Maud across the room and pushed unsteadily to his feet.

Sachie kicked him in the backs of the knees, then knocked him to the carpet via a heel strike to the nuts.

Zaven curled up, moaning.

This was pointless and I was tired. The most likely angle was that Zaven did this to impress someone in the local vamp mob, in which case, I could investigate those ties on my own. I’d done what I could for Maud, and with the clock ticking, it was time to prioritize Silas.

I crouched down, stake at the ready.

“No. Wait.” Zaven reached into his pocket.

I jammed the stake into his chest before he could pull out another weapon.

Zaven gasped and something fluttered from his hand.

I picked up the photo he’d dropped, shaking it to dislodge his ashy remains. A petite blonde woman held a laughing toddler up to the camera. He had a family? He’d gotten this woman pregnant when he was human because turned vamps couldn’t impregnate anyone and besides, this kid had been around longer than Zaven had been a vampire.

I wiped a smudge of ash off the woman’s face. It wasn’t like a criminal vamp would be winning any father-of-the-year awards.

No? If he was the one calling the shots, then he’d arranged this spot as the location for the exchange. How would someone like him know about the Play Palace otherwise? I rubbed my fist against my forehead.

Zaven’s partner would spend months darting glances at the door, praying today was the day he came home. His son would wonder why his dad abandoned them. Would it send him down the same path that led Zaven to his death?

Was it worse if I’d stolen their hope for their happy future as a family or turned it into a lie that sustained them?

“What’s that?” Sachie said.

I crumpled the photo in my hand. “Nothing.”