Covet (Fallen Angels 1) - Page 67

In this hot, erotic moment, Marie-Terese had him exactly where she wanted him to be.

Chapter 31

"Wait...say what? Vin gave her exactly what?"

Jim glanced across his studio at Adrian and didn't like the expression on the guy's face. Fucker seemed a little pale. "A ring," Jim said. "He gave her an engagement ring. Or at least, he said she left with it when he broke up with her."

The angel's puss tightened even more. "What was it made of."

"It was a diamond."

"Not the stone. What was the setting made of."

"I don't know. Platinum, I'd guess. Vin's the kind of guy who always goes top-drawer." As Eddie shook his head and cursed, Jim said, "Right, now is the happy moment when you tell me why the hell you both look like someone pissed in your gas tanks."

Adrian knocked off the rest of his beer and put the can down on the crappy kitchen table. "You know anything about black magic, my friend?"

Jim shook his head slowly, not at all surprised at the way the conversation was heading. "Why don't you enlighten me."

Adrian fished around the shoe box full of chess pieces and one by one took out all the pawns, lining them up. "Black magic is real. It exists and it's more prevalent than you think - and I'm not talking about singers biting off the heads of bats onstage, or a bunch of sixteen-year-olds getting stoned and playing games with an Ouija board, or so-called paranormal investigators jacking off their adrenal glands in some creepy old house. I'm talking about the real shit that will bite you on the ass hard. I'm talking about the way demons get to owning souls...I'm talking about spells and curses that not only work in this world, but the hereafter."

There was a heavy, dark pause of vast significance.

Which Jim broke by flashing his hands and belting out, "Booga-wooga!"

At least Eddie laughed. Adrian flipped Jim the bird and headed to the fridge for another beer. "Don't be an ass**le," the guy snapped as he cracked a freshie.

"Oh, right, because two in this group would be overkill." Jim eased back on the bed so that he was leaning against the wall. "Look, I just felt the need to break the tension. Keep going."

"This is not a joke." When Jim nodded, Adrian took a deep one from the Bud can, parked it in his seat again, and seemed to be filing through the catalog of his mind. "There's a lot you're going to learn over time. So let's just call this lesson one. Demons collect shit from the people they're targeting. The more they get the better, and they keep it with them unless someone takes it back. Within this practice, there's like...think of it as a rating system. Gifts are worth more than shit they steal, and one of the strongest is a gift of true metal. Platinum will do it. Gold. Silver to a lesser extent. It's like a binding agent. And the more they get from a person, the stronger those bonds are."

Jim frowned. "To what end, though? I mean, what does it get Devina other than an account with PODS?"

"When she kills him, she can keep him with her for eternity - those binds translate into a kind of ownership, in effect. Demons are like parasites. They latch on and it can take them years to overcome someone's soul - but that's what they do. They get into the person's head and affect their choices, and with each passing day, week, month, they slowly invade the life that is led, corrupting, fouling, destroying. The soul dims from the infection, and when it gets to the right point, the demon steps in and a mortal event occurs. Your boy Vin's right at that critical point now. She's setting the events in motion, with the first being his arrest. It's a domino thing, and it's going to get worse fast. I've seen it too often for words."

"Jesus...Christ."

"Or very much not Him, as is the case."

As questions spun in Jim's head, he said, "But why Vin? Why was he chosen by her in the first place?"

"There has to be a place of entry. Think of it like getting tetanus from a rusty nail. There's an injury to the soul and the demon enters through the 'wound.'"

"What makes a wound?"

"Lots of shit. Every case is different." Adrian moved the pawns around to form the shape of an "X."

"But once the demon's in there, it has to be removed."

"You said Devina can't be killed."

"We can give her one f**k of an eviction notice, however." At this Eddie let out a low growl of approval. "And that's what we're going to teach you how to do." Well, wasn't that a lesson he was goddamn aching to learn.

Jim ran a hand through his hair and got up from the bed. "You know what? Vin said something about...Vin said when he was seventeen he went to, like, a fortune-teller/psychic kind of thing. He was getting these seizures where he was seeing the future and he was blind desperate for them to stop."

"What did she tell him to do?"

"He didn't go into it, but the seizures stopped until recently. He mentioned, though, that after he followed orders, so to speak, his luck changed altogether."

Adrian frowned. "We've got to find out what he did."

Eddie spoke up, "And we need to get the ring back. She's trying to lock him in even harder before she kills him and that is one hell of a strong bind."

"I know where she lives," Jim said. "Or I saw her go into a warehouse downtown."

Adrian got to his feet and so did Eddie. "Then let's do a little breaking and entering, shall we?" Ad said, scooping up the pawns and putting them back in the box. After he finished his beer, he cracked his knuckles. "Last fight I had with the bitch ended way too soon."

Eddie rolled his eyes and glanced at Jim. "It was back in the Middle Ages and he still hasn't gotten over it."

"Why so long ago?"

"We got put on ice," Eddie said. "We were a little more fallen than the bosses were comfortable with."

Adrian grinned like a motherfucker. "As I mentioned, I like the ladies."

"Usually in pairs." Eddie put Dog down and stroked his ears. "We'll be back, Dog." Dog didn't seem happy with the parting and began circling all of the feet in the room, including the couch's - which seemed to suggest he thought the piece of furniture was on backup. Not exactly what Jim had in mind.

Nope, he was going in with something a little more powerful.

Going over to the empty bookshelves in the far corner, he pulled out a black duffel bag and unzipped the thing, revealing a stainless-steel case that was about four feet by three feet. Running his forefinger over its keypad, he released the lock and opened the top. Inside, the three guns that were packed in egg padding caught no light whatsoever on their matte gray finishes and he left the assault rifle where it was. Of the pair of SIGs, the grips of which had been custom-designed for him, he took the one that fit his right palm.

Adrian shook his head, as if the auto-loader was nothing more than a squirt gun. "Just what do you think you're going to do with that piece of metal there, Dirty Harry?"

"It's my safety blanket, how 'bout that."

Jim put the gun through a quick check, locked up the briefcase, and stashed the duffel. The ammo was behind the cans in the cabinets over the sink, and he took enough to fill the clip. "You can't shoot her with that," Eddie said softly.

"No offense - but until I see it, I'm not going to believe it."

"And that is why you will fail."

Adrian cursed and hit the door. "Great, you've got him channeling Yoda again. Can we get moving before he levitates my f**king bike?"

As Jim locked things up and they all went down the stairs, Dog took up res on the back of the couch, and watched them out the window. He pawed at the glass a little, like he was protesting the fact that he'd been left out of the action.

"Let's take my truck," Jim said as he hit the gravel. "Less noise."

"And it has a radio, right?" With tragic concentration, Adrian started warming up his voice, sounding like a moose being backstroked by a cheese grater.

Jim shook his head at Eddie as doors were opened. "How do you stand the racket?"

"Selective deafness."

"Teach me, master."

The trip into town lasted about four hundred years - largely due to the fact that Adrian found the classic rock station: Van Halen's "Panama" had never sounded so bad, but that was nothing compared to what happened to Meat Loaf's "I Would Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That)."

Tags: J.R. Ward Fallen Angels Fantasy
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