"Is it going to be really messy?" I asked. "We can't afford him being warned of our intentions."

"I think it would be best if I went alone, Dante."

I shrugged, water rippling against the side of the tub. "Fine." Another yawn caught me off-guard. "I'm going to finish up in here, and then you can have a turn."

"Not necessary. But thank you." He didn't sound robotic—his tone was merely polite, shaded with some human emotion. Which emotion? I couldn't tell.

I shrugged again. "Okay. Scoot along, then."

He turned to leave, then stopped. "I would not have you see me feed, Dante."

Why should I care? I thought. "Thanks," I said out loud, not knowing what else to say.

He ducked back out the door, steam drifting behind him. He didn't even sneak a peek, I thought, and smiled, ducking under the sandalwood-scented water.

When I emerged into the bedroom, wrapped in a towel and carrying my sword, the demon stood by a window looking down into a courtyard full of orange trees. Up here above the main bulk of the city, the smog wasn't so bad, and the heat was bearable due to the high ceilings and chill stone walls. Jace had climate control. But I was going to have to get used to the heat if we were going to be hunting here.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" I said, dropping down on the bed. Water weighed my hair, sandalwood smell drifting around me and warring with the heavy smell of demon. "I wonder how Jace affords this."

"Ask him," the demon replied. "You're tired, Dante. Sleep."

I yawned again. "If I asked him, he'd probably think I was interested."

"Are you?"

"We broke up a long time ago, Japhrimel. Why are you asking?"

"He seems to evoke a response from you." Did he sound uncertain?

"I suppose loathing might be a response," I admitted. "He's infuriating."

"Did you leave him?"

"No," I yawned again, closing my eyes, surprised. I didn't sleep much on hunts. And who would have thought that it could be comforting to have a demon in the same room? "He left me. Three years ago. Came down here, I guess…"

"Foolish of him," Japhrimel said, before I fell asleep.

CHAPTER 24

Gabe settled down cross-legged on the rug across from me. I balanced the tracker in one hand, examining its crystalline glitter. The arrow was spinning lazily, not yet triggered. I wouldn't use it unless I absolutely had to—but it was nice to have. If we didn't find any whisper of the demon here, we could trigger the tracker and see where it led us.

"Where's the demon?" Eddie asked.

"Went out," I replied absently, staring at the tracker. "Needs feeding."

"Hades bless us," Gabe snorted, "Feeding?"

"Well, he said he was going to go to the slaughterhouses. Efficient, right?" I shifted on the green and blue Persian rug, uneasy. "Where's Jace?"

Gabe pulled a black satin card-pouch from the bowels of her blue canvas bag. Her fingers moved with the ease of long practice as she extracted the tarot cards, shuffled them with loud gunning snaps, then turned one over. "He said he'd be back by dark. It's dark, so I suppose either he lied, or—"

"You have no faith in me either," Jace said from the door. He stalked into the room, the bones on his staff clicking together. His hair was damp, sticking to his skull and darker than its usual gold, and his eyes were dark too. He's upset, I thought, automatically cataloguing the set of his shoulders, the way his left knee moved a little stiffly, the way his aura shifted through violet and into blue. We'd been lovers once, and it was a mixed relief to find out I could still read him with a glance.

I looked back down at my palm, at the tracker's lazy spinning.

We were downstairs, in a huge high-ceilinged living room holding two long blue velvet couches and a collection of silk and satin floor pillows, ceiling fans turning lazily. The staff of the house were Nuevo Rios, lean brown women in starched uniforms, a black-jacketed butler, none of whom spoke any English.

Gabe glanced up at Jace. "Hey, Monroe. Nice digs." Her tone was neutral, and her expression might have been a warning.

"Anything for the famous Spocarelli. And the pretty Danny Valentine." He paced over to the wet bar holding up one end of the room. "Drinks?"

"Scotch on the rocks for Eddie, vodka Mim for me, and Danny looks like she's in the mood for a brandy," Gabe replied promptly. "What's the word, Shaman?"

He waved his staff briefly, a clicking rattle. "Give me a minute, Gabe. 'Kay?"

I studied the tracker, worrying my lower lip with my teeth. If I could still read Jace…

No. He had never been able to read me.

My left shoulder throbbed. Japhrimel had left as soon as dusk fell. I didn't want to know what he was doing. I kept my fingers away from the mark, not wanting to see through his eyes.

Gabe's eyes rested on me. The clink of glasses, liquid pouring from place to place. "Aren't you going to say anything?" she stage-whispered.

I darted her a murderous glance. She grinned, her emerald twinkling, and a completely uncharacteristic desire to laugh came over me. She was acting just like a high-school girl—or at least, like the high-school girls I'd seen in holovids, blinking innocently and giggling over boys.

I shrugged. I didn't have a reputation for small talk, so I simply concentrated on stuffing the tracker back in its leather bag. If I have to use this, it had better work, I thought, or I'll go back to Saint City and find whatever cell they've stuck Dake in, and I'll make him wish he'd never been born.

If he hadn't died from Chill withdrawal by the time I got back.

How long would it take to hunt down Santino anyway?

Not long. Not once he finds out I'm looking for him. My skin went cold, my nipples tightening and goose-flesh breaking out over my skin. All at once memory rose, swallowed me, was pushed down.

Jace turned around at the wet bar, and his blue eyes met mine. I hadn't even known I was staring at his back. "I hear you're hunting Santino, Danny," he said quietly. "Is that why you brought a demon into my house?"

I rocked up to my feet, carrying my sword. "Okay," I said quietly. "That's it."

Gabe sighed. "I didn't want—"

"Let's get this over with," I snapped, and my thumb caressed the katana's guard. One simple movement would slip it free. "I didn't want to be here in the first place, Monroe. I'd rather live in the filthiest sink of Nuevo Rio than stay in your house." I took a deep breath. "And that demon's saved my life more than once since this whole filthy mess started. More than I can say for anyone else here."

Silence. Jace carried two glasses instead of his staff. He walked across the room, handed one glass to Eddie, who was watching me, his hazel eyes narrowed. Gabe turned over another card, accepted the other glass.

I started to feel a little foolish, standing up. Gabe hummed under her breath, a snatch of classical music. Berlioz, I placed it, and took a step back, turning on my heel.

"So you're in a bit of a mess," Jace said quietly. "You always did have a talent for getting into trouble."

I rounded on him, my unbraided hair swinging heavily against my back. "It's none of your concern. I wasn't the one that wanted to contact you."

"I know," he answered, straightening a little. His fingers tapped his swordhilt. "Gabe told me as much. I talked her into staying here. It's safer all the way around, especially if you're hunting Santino." His voice dropped. "I heard enough of your nightmares to know that name."

My thumb rested against the guard.

There was a slight sound, and the black-clad hatchet-faced butler bustled in. I took a deep breath, eased my hand away from the guard, clasped the hilt loosely. He directed a stream of liquid Portogueso at Jace, who shrugged and gave a clipped answer. The butler, his dark eyes resting on me for just a moment and skittering away, bowed and scuttled out.