Silver Huntress (Sisterhood of Assassins: Iliana's Story Book 2) Page 8

  I got the impression that he was lost in his memories, and as if realizing this in the same moment, Ibrahim cleared his throat and looked back out the window again.

  “I made my brother a promise,” he said. “I promised I’d protect the child. That’s what I’m going to do.”

  “Well, you can tell your brother that Vida has a new guardian now,” I replied, each word an ache in my throat.

  Ibrahim met my eyes once more. “No, I can’t,” he said. “Because my brother is dead.”

  And so was Elias. I’d been there when he’d died. Standing by.

  True hatred shined out of the Demon’s dark eyes when he added. “He was murdered by a Sister.”

  Talk about awkward.

  I wet my lips, not bothering to offer condolences. “And you want to know who ordered the hit,” I guessed. “And why.”

  For a moment, I thought Ibrahim wasn’t going to answer. “Why isn’t the question. Every supernatural with any kind of power is after Vida, and have been since the day she was born,” he said. “I want to know who funded the hit. Who hired the Sisterhood, and which Sister carried it out.”

  “So you can kill them?” I asked.

  This time, Ibrahim didn’t answer.

  I understood then why he hated me so much, had disdained me since the moment we’d met. It wasn’t just that a Sister had killed his brother, it was the possibility that I could very well be the Sister who’d done the job. For all I knew, his brother could’ve been a Mark, a Mark I’d likely barely remember. Since Ibrahim didn’t know which Sister had carried out the hit, it could be any of us. Could’ve been me.

  And since I was also Vida’s guardian, and he’d promised to protect the child… Well, that just further complicated matters.

  “What’s your plan?” I asked.

  “We go to the City of Shadows and secure the spell to mute Vida’s beacon,” he answered. “Then I follow the trails of those who come after her, because one of them will lead me to my answers.”

  I supposed that seemed fair enough. I had questions of my own that still needed answering, not the least of which involved a certain Warden and an Angel. Maybe I didn’t like the bastard, and maybe I would have to end up killing him depending on the way things went, but our goals seemed to align pretty well. Protect the child. Figure shit out. I didn’t like him, but liking one’s allies was not a requirement. Also, he had saved my life twice now. A fact, whether I liked it or not.

  But I’d been burned, and recently, too, so my defenses were up despite these things.

  “Why should I trust you?” I asked.

  Ibrahim snorted softly. “I truly don’t give a shit if you do,” he said, and dismissed me by turning back to the window.

  He didn’t speak for the rest of the trip, but he continued to hold the band of dark magic in place around my neck until the skin there weaved itself together enough to hold on its own.

  And I was too petty and bitter to thank him.

  The train slowed. The lights of the city broke through the window, too bright after so many hours in the dark.

  We’d changed trains again with no trouble. I’d slept and eaten, expending some magic to force the speeded healing of my injuries. Though I could still use a shower and a good night’s sleep in an actual bed, I felt fit enough. Beyond the window, tall buildings drew my eyes, a thick fog covering the tops of them.

  Vida joined me at the glass, pressing her little face close and peering beyond. The awe on her face was endearing, though I wouldn’t have admitted it.

  Paved streets filled with cars, sidewalks filled with people. A city on top of a city, one world none the wiser to the other thanks to the Veil separating them. The train had emerged from a tunnel and now was slowing to a stop atop rails that hovered over the city streets below. A platform allowed commuters to enter and exit, and Ibrahim stood without speaking, offering a hand that the child took.

  I followed after them, exiting the train and stepping onto the crowded platform. The air was stuffy, scented with the exhaust of the idling engine. The tall buildings trapped in the heat of the summer season, despite the gray clouds hanging low in the sky. A set of steps let us onto the streets, crowded lanes tucked between the buildings.

  People of all sorts flowed around us, each moving with a single-minded purpose, barely sparing a glance at those with whom they shared the space. They were so singular that our little group of three would go mostly unnoticed, and it was an effort not to gawk.

  A female Fae strutted past with her colorful wings on display, along with the tight curves of her body, large sunglasses balanced on her nose, pointed ears poking out beneath rainbow hair. A large bird of prey swooped down from the sky and shifted into a mortal form, complete with suit and tie, briefcase in hand. Across the street, a Minotaur in a ball cap and ripped jeans haggled with a Leprechaun over a gold chain.

  The shops lining the bottom floors of the buildings were also singular, selling items both extraordinary and mundane. The scent of rich coffee made my mouth water as we passed a café, people sitting at round tables upon the sidewalk, chatting and sipping drinks. A bookstore displayed its name on a plank of wood swinging from two chains, reading: GRIMOIRES. My stomach growled as we passed a vendor selling steak sandwiches and soft pretzels, and I dug in my pocket for money and purchased one of each. I was just shoving a huge bite in my mouth when I turned and saw Vida and Ibrahim looking at me with raised brows.

  Around a bite of delicious steak and cheese on a soft roll, I said, “What?” I held the bitten sandwich out to the child. “You want some?”

  “Really?” Ibrahim said.

  I took another bite.

  He rolled his eyes and turned on his heels. Vida stood beside me as the Demon strode off, clearly expecting us to follow. She gave me an exasperated look as I handed her the pretzel, but took the offering nonetheless.

  We followed the Demon a few blocks, passing by one wonder after the next, trading the pretzel and steak between us while we took in the sights.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this,” the child muttered around a bite.

  We still wore the deep hoods over our heads, the scarves over our mouths, but I could see the awe in her big eyes, was sure at least some of it was reflected in mine. I’d never been here, either, though it was one of the most famous cities on the supernatural side of the Veil. A city that never slept, a night that never ended.

  And it was as big and as densely populated as the human side of the Veil over which it sat.

  “Neither have I,” I admitted as we passed a fire-spitting street performer with iridescent green scales, the bottom half of her body that of a serpent and the top that of a mortal.

  The difficulty of the task set in as I took in the magnitude of the place. Finding the Shadowborn in a city this big would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.

  But, we’d made it.

  We’d reached the City of Shadows.

  13

  “This is where we’re going to stay?” I asked.

  Ibrahim looked inclined to ignore me, but answered, anyway. “Only the five star hotels offer magical wards around their rooms. If we want to mute Vida’s beacon, we don’t have a choice.”

  I blinked at him.

  “Besides,” he said, “aren’t Sisters used to luxury?”

  The condescending manner in which these words were spoken set my teeth on edge. I kept my voice low and even. “I’m not a Sister anymore, your majesty,” I said, sure to put as much distain behind my mocking address as he always did with mine. Being a High Demon didn’t necessarily make him a prince, but it did mean that one of the five royal lines ran through his veins.

  Ibrahim said nothing as a Demon bellhop in a maroon and gold suit held the door of the hotel open for us upon seeing our approach. “Welcome to the Tenebris,” the bellhop said as I passed. “Enjoy your stay.”

  I nodded and ignored the way the male’s eyes lingered on me, instead taking in the grandeur of the hotel lobb
y. Ibrahim had not been wrong when he’d said that Sisters were used to luxury, but the Tenebris was a few steps above even what I was accustomed to. It seemed the wonders of this city would never cease.

  The ceiling was so high that I had to crane my neck back to look at it. Multiple chandeliers hung from its domed center, dripping in crystals that threw fractures of light in every direction. Huge potted plants blooming brilliantly colored flowers lined the columns, a wide set of marble steps directly ahead.

  The front desk was to the right, and behind it stood a concierge with a thin mustache and a reedy build, also of Demon blood. I thought we would head over to the desk when another Demon approached us.

  The female was beautiful, with striking green eyes and long, black hair that flowed over her shoulders. She wore the maroon and gold of the hotel, though her uniform was a tight skirt and blazer, high heels that clicked over the marble flooring.

  She only had eyes for Ibrahim. I chuckled internally. If only she knew how much of an asshole the Demon was.

  “Ibra,” said the female Demon.

  “Sophia,” replied Ibrahim.

  Vida and I stood watching as the two exchanged friendly kisses on the cheek.

  “Welcome back,” she said.

  “My apologies for not messaging ahead,” Ibrahim replied.

  She waved a manicured hand. “No problem at all, of course.”

  I managed not to raise a brow at how much kinder the Demon sounded when he spoke to other people. Other people who weren’t me.

  Yeah, well, fuck him.

  I pushed these stupid thoughts out of my head and cleared my throat. This drew their eyes at last.

  “Pardon my manners,” the female said, giving a smile that was hard not to admire. “Welcome to the Tenebris.” She looked at Ibrahim again. “Would you like an escort to your suite?”

  The return smile Ibrahim gave now was admittedly captivating. The first of the expression I’d seen from him, other than little smirks and half smiles he and Vida sometimes shared. The fucker was handsome even when he was scowling, but he was gorgeous when he smiled.

  Not that I would ever in a million years tell him that.

  Because pretty or not, fuck him. He was an asshole, and the sooner we could find the Shadowborn, secure the spell for Vida, and be able to part ways, the better.

  “No need for an escort, but thank you,” Ibrahim said. “It’s good to see you, Soph.”

  “Let me know if you need anything,” replied the female. Her eyes traveled over Vida and I with curiosity, but she posed no questions.

  I watched her saunter away, heels clicking, before following Ibrahim to a private elevator tucked in the rear of the lobby, beneath the enormous staircase.

  The elevator doors opened immediately. We hopped on. But instead of going up, the elevator went down.

  And down.

  And down.

  The ride was smooth, the air controlled, though I could sense that we were descending into the earth. Fifteen minutes passed, and down we still went. When we came to a stop at last, there was nothing I could do to keep the curiosity off my face. Ibrahim stared ahead, pointedly pretending not to notice. The elevator doors slid open, and I stood in awe as I took in what lay beyond.

  Ibrahim stepped off the lift and into the suite beyond, not waiting for Vida or me to follow. The child and I exchanged a glance. I hadn’t failed to notice the way she had stuck close by my side since the news that I was her new guardian, couldn’t deny the internal pull that kept making me glance over at her to make sure she was alright.

  A pull that seemed to only grow stronger the more time I spent with the child.

  It had to be the magic that had caused the new silver marking on my palm, the voodoo of being cursed as the guardian. I didn’t like it one bit.

  The child and I stepped off the elevator, and I heard her breath catch as we took in the suite together.

  Actually, suite wasn’t the right word. Not at all. Instead, we stepped into another realm.

  The feel of Ibrahim’s dark Demon magic was so strong here I nearly gasped. My teeth clenched, stomach twisting, but I managed to swallow back the worst of it. The room we stepped into was cavernous, the ceiling high, but there was no walls on three sides, as though it were tucked into the face of a high cliff. As I moved deeper into the space, I saw that was exactly what it was.

  We were on the top of an enormous mountain, standing in a room that overlooked a vast, endless city below.

  Black rock surrounded us, made up the landscape below. Save for an open fire blooming in the middle of the space, darkness ruled like a deity. I drew instinctively toward the flame, its heart calling to my own, observing my surroundings as I did so. Everything was black and smoky gray; the couches and chairs, the tables and curtains that screened bedrooms. After brushing by the open fire, I went to the open cliffside and gazed out at the land spread out before me.

  An endless night sky, unmarred by a single star. Darkness, as far as the eye could see. Bits of flames, tiny in the distance, flickered against dark rock, so many that they were like a blanket of flaming stars upon the ground. There had to be millions of them. I stared at all those tiny flames, wondering what was so strange about the fires.

  “They are the Fires of Perdition,” said Ibrahim from right beside me. I hadn’t heard the bastard move. “They cleanse the souls of the wicked.”

  “What ring of hell have you brought us to?” I asked, my eyes narrowed upon the Demon.

  Ibrahim met my gaze, the pitch black of his eyes a reflection of the realm. “The tenth,” he said.

  “Why would you bring us here?” I asked.

  The tenth ring of Hell was a wretched place, a place of sorrow and suffering. Now I understood why all those flames had seemed so off-putting to me; each one was a soul burning in agony as the price for their sins. Cleansing the souls of the wicked, the Demon had said.

  Fucking gruesome. No place for a child.

  Ibrahim released a sigh that was almost imperceptible. “Because it’s mine,” he said. “I am its ruler.”

  My jaw dropped. I couldn’t help it. If he was telling the truth, the fucker wasn’t just a High Demon. He wasn’t even a High Demon prince.

  He was a fucking Demon King.

  The Demon King of Darkness, to be exact.

  “You know, there’s some information that is damn useful to mention up front,” I said. “In that little story you spun on the train, you didn’t think it was necessary to mention this?”

  “Vida will be safe here,” Ibrahim responded, wandering away from me to sink into one of the big, plush couches surrounding the great fire in the center of the space. “But we should work quickly to find the Shadowborn, because the longer one stays in this realm… Well, there can just be adverse effects.”

  “Is turning into a perpetual asshole one of those effects?” I murmured, taking a seat by the fire as well.

  Ibrahim had relaxed back into the cushions, but his dark eyes followed me. “You really shouldn’t mumble, dear,” he said. “It’s not becoming.”

  I resisted the urge to flip him off because the child was watching, but I said, “Answer my question. Why not mention this until now?”

  Flames reflected in his eyes as he glared at me from across the fire. “Because you are not the only one who isn’t sure whether to trust the person they’ve been forced to work with.”

  That was a more reasonable answer than I’d expected, so I sat back as I considered a response. “Those Demons in the hotel lobby, they are yours, then?”

  “They’re loyal to my family, yes.”

  “And your family, you’re all descendants of Asriel, the God of Darkness.”

  Ibrahim sighed, staring up at the ceiling in obvious exasperation. He raised his hands as if in gesture to everything around him. “So it would seem.”

  “Aren’t you a little young to be a king?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Something flashed behind his eyes as he said this
, but it was gone before I could pin it down.

  I tried to run through my knowledge of Demon history, though it was admittedly a topic I didn’t know well. It was not a subject that had been covered at the Sisterhood, other than the story of the Original Sisters.

  It struck me then what it was I’d just glimpsed in Ibrahim’s eyes, how I knew the subtle expression.

  “Your family,” I said.

  But this time he didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

  I’d known the look he’d unwittingly flashed because I’d seen it in the mirror. It was the look of an orphan, of someone who has no blood relatives left in the world.

  For whatever reason, I was uncomfortable all of a sudden. I stood. “Let’s take shifts. One person stays here with Vida while the other goes in search of the Shadowborn.” I headed back to the elevator. “I’ll go search first.”

  Part of me expected one of them to argue, or to say something, but neither the child nor the Demon did, so I stepped into the lift and rode in peaceful silence the entire twenty minutes back to the topside.

  In that time, I convinced myself that being an orphan was still no excuse for being an asshole.

  14

  Okay, so maybe it was.

  Because I was a bit of an asshole.

  As soon as I exited the hotel and was back on the streets of the city, all I could think about was a drink. Something strong that would burn so good on the way down.

  I understood that our mission was time sensitive, that the sooner we could secure the spell for Vida, the sooner we could find a more permanent, safe place for her. But I was also a Gods damned lush, and I hadn’t asked for any of this shit. So sue me.

  I found myself in the first barroom I walked past, ordering a double straight up. Tipping my head back, I gulped down the contents and tapped the bar for another. I took that one down the same.