jinn 02 - inferno

  by

  Liz Schulte

  Inferno

  Jinn Trilogy

  Book Two

  Copyright © 2014 by Liz Schulte

  Editing by Ev Bishop

  Cover design by Karri Klawiter

  All rights reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  The suggested reading order for books in the Abyss World are as follows:

  Secrets (The Guardian Trilogy)

  Choices (The Guardian Trilogy)

  Consequences (The Guardian Trilogy)

  Easy Bake Coven (Easy Bake Coven series)

  Be Light (The Guardian Trilogy)

  Hungry, Hungry Hoodoo (Easy Bake Coven series)

  Pickup Styx (Easy Bake Coven series)

  Ember (The Jinn Trilogy)

  Good Tidings (Baker’s Christmas Short Story in Christmas Yet To Come Anthology)

  Tiddly Jinx (Easy Bake Coven series)

  Inferno (The Jinn Trilogy)

  Vestige (The Jinn Trilogy)

  Ollie, Ollie Hex ‘N Free (The Easy Bake Coven series)

  And two other books:

  Sweet Little Lies (Femi short story in Cupid Painted Blind)

  Good Tidings (Baker Christmas short story in the Christmas Yet to Come Anthology)

  To keep up with Liz’s latest releases sign up for her newsletter here

  http://lizschulte.us4.list-manage1.com/subscribe?u=b24d896a4369244959d216887&id=a525d7447f

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Olivia, glowing brightly, walked out of a smoldering building. Wisps of smoke trailed behind her, a train of destruction. “Clear,” she said in a voice that was hardly recognizable. Her eyes flickered in my direction where I held a low level demon, waiting for her to question him. “Did he tell you anything?” she asked.

  “I got another location.”

  “Kill him.” She strode past us without slowing.

  I nodded and slid the blade of an angelic knife across the demon’s throat. Blood gurgled and arterial spray went up like a geyser before black smoke poured from every opening in the body. The demon was dead and so was the human it inhabited. Wiping the blade on a dark rag, I slipped the knife back into its holder beneath my shirt and fell into step with Olivia. She moved fast, eyes centered ahead, always focused on our next move. The angel was a warrior through and through. She never stopped, she never rested, and she never relaxed. We were at war.

  Olivia stepped over a homeless person—not seeing him or not caring he was there, hard to say. The man didn’t see her at all. No humans did. She hadn’t retracted her natural light since her mother Marge died, not once. Olivia wore the angel like a blanket, reveling in its power and hiding any softer feelings deep beneath the angel’s strength and experience, out of anyone’s reach.

  Be careful what you wish for was the phrase that most often went through my head when I thought about Olivia, thought about us. On one hand, I didn’t have to worry about Olivia anymore. The angel would take care of her, if her human soul had survived at all. We no longer had to run from Hell or demons. These days we took the fight to them, leaving nothing but smoke and ashes in our wake—no survivors human or otherwise. The angel had produced a small, unornamented dagger and gave it to me with the instructions to only use it on heavenly creatures or abominations—aka demons and jinn. Where she kept these weapons, or how many she had, was anyone’s guess, but their existence had certainly changed our position from a flea on a dog’s back to the dog catcher. Hell was on the run, but I couldn’t help thinking it was temporary. Eventually they would find something she couldn’t defeat; it was their way. She had no such concerns.

  On the other hand, though, I barely caught glimpses of the woman I loved and even those felt like figments of my imagination, like I was grasping at the smallest threads of hope that she was still in there. The love and warmth for everyone she’d exuded before had vanished. And our connection was silent. It still existed, but where she used to glow in my mind there was only darkness, a gaping hole completely shut off to me, but, perhaps, quietly monitoring every thought I had.

  If I stepped out of line, would she kill me? It was possible. The idea didn’t bother me as much as it probably should have. After all, I’d lived with that sword of Damocles over my head for most of my existence as a jinni. That said, I hadn’t given up hope. This wasn’t the first time grief caused Olivia to retreat. She could still recover and come back. She had always defied expectations and there was no reason to think she wouldn’t do so again. Besides, any Olivia, even one who in too many ways resembled myself, was better than none. Hope was a dangerous thing.

  Losing Marge caused a ripple that was growing into a tidal wave. It wasn’t just Olivia either. Sure she was clearing out cells of demons as fast as Baker, Femi, and I could track them down, but the effects were wider than that. It was hard to control my own anger these days. My tenuous grasp on my emotions was at best slippery. Falling back into old habits of silence and solitude didn’t make matters easier either. The instinct to hurt and make others suffer was alive and well within me, not at all changed by being in possession of my soul. The old Olivia had made me more aware of my actions, but the inclinations never went away. They simply went dormant, waiting to be called on. The new angel-controlled Olivia did nothing to help my better side flourish. At least punishing demons with her was enough for her right now—and I prayed it stayed that way. I had to hold it together because that was what real Olivia would expect of me if she was still in there somewhere. I wasn’t going to disappoint her again.

  Quintus was wisely terrified of Olivia. He avoided her whenever possible. Even though it wasn’t his fault the guardian watching Marge was killed—thus failed to protect her—the side-eyed glances Olivia gave him made us all doubt she cared about technicalities. When he had anything to report, he came to me directly, and in true Quintus fashion, he took the blame she wanted to place on him, as he had done with Juliet. Quintus didn’t argue or defend himself, just stoically accepted his failure to live up to her impossible expectations. Baker asked him why once, and all he said was that if she needed someone to blame, the least he could do was be that person for her. The only time he ever brought her up with me was to simply ask if she was okay.

  Baker and Olivia’s relationship had changed as well,
though I couldn’t say how. It was just different. They looked and spoke to each other on a level that was almost out of my grasp. Around her, Baker’s customary slang and annoyingness vanished. He could be laughing and flirting with Femi one minute, but as soon as Olivia walked through the door he was deadly serious and they’d share cryptic exchanges that neither of them explained to the rest of us. At first that made me want to beat Baker within an inch of his life, but now it was comforting. It was good to know she spoke to someone even if it wasn’t me.

  Femi was the most oblivious to the new pecking order. She dealt with the fact Olivia had changed by pretending nothing was different at all. She still strutted through the door without knocking and said whatever was on her mind. Femi’s ego was indefatigable. Whether or not Olivia laughed at her jokes, she still knew they were funny. Most of the time Olivia ignored her or stared at her like she didn’t understand why they were friends, but Femi would carry on, giving Olivia no say in the matter.

  We walked into the warehouse where we had all been staying since Marge. It was the safest place in the city. Femi and Baker constantly added to the wards and tweaked the runes as they studied them. The building was a 5000 square foot fortress against the supernatural with an animaphagist (or in layman’s terms, a soul eater) to boot. Though we hadn’t tested it on demons, it worked on Juliet, making us figure anything with a soul was toast, so we kept it around for a rainy day. The echo of the warehouse door closing behind me announced our arrival. Home sweet home. I slid the bars into place over the steel door. Olivia went to the first room on the right, a space filled wall-to-wall with maps, to cross off the latest cell and plot her next attack. I stared after her. Had we spoken at all this week? It was hard to remember. I should probably try to do it today.

  Baker came ambling from the rear of the building into the front room which housed most of my furniture from the apartment. “Heya, boss. How’d it go?”

  “Dead.”

  His mouth twitched down and his eyes flicked toward the only room in the warehouse Olivia ever spent any time in. “Did she try to save the human?”

  I shook my head.

  He sighed and glanced at the floor. He mumbled something that sounded like “Still no change” to himself then looked back to me. “So what’s next on the docket? Any leads?”

  “I have another location for you to scout.” When we discovered new demon cell locations, either Baker or Femi would watch the building, tunnel, or wherever they were hiding for a few days. Once they knew the best time to attack—when there were the most demons present—Olivia and I would work out a plan. I held out a slip of paper that I had written the address on. “The demon gave it up pretty easy this time.”

  He took the note. “Will do, boss-man. Femi still has eyeballs on the one in Wicker Park.”

  I nodded. “Has Phoenix been in contact?”

  Baker shook his head. “Not for a while. He’s sure taking his sweet time choosing who he wants freed. I mean after having the kahunas to demand a ‘demonstration’ the least he could do is not take six goddamned months—” Baker jumped as a bolt of electricity shot into his ass. “Son of a—” he stopped himself from finishing, rubbing his right butt cheek.

  “You know she’s sensitive about that.”

  He moved to a safer spot in the room, less in the line of fire. “I haven’t seen her send a bolt of lightning into your ass for swearing.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him and crossed my arms. He wouldn’t see it either. She did it to Baker because he let her. He would take it. I wouldn’t.

  Baker huffed and sat down, heavily favoring his right side. “Long story short, Phoenix hasn’t called.”

  I nodded. Phoenix claimed the jinn wanted a demonstration of Olivia’s ability to free them, even though I was walking, talking proof, and amazingly she had agreed to provide one, but as soon as she did, he started to hesitate. And because he was a jinni, it was obvious he was up to something. That didn’t actually bother me though. The real problem was Olivia agreeing to do it. I thought originally it was because she knew we needed the backup, but the two of us managed to dispatch any demon we came across. Where would the jinn even fit into the plans now? Why she was willing to free them as an angel but not when she was herself?

  “I want to do it tonight,” Olivia said from the other room. “No more waiting.”

  Baker made a face and shrugged. I ran a hand over my hair as I walked to the doorway of her room. “Why tonight?”

  She stared at the maps of the city surrounding her, face smooth and alien. “Tonight or we start making other arrangements.” Her voice was soft, but still not hers.

  I released my breath and pulled out my cell phone as I walked back to the living room area. Phoenix answered on the second ring. “We do this tonight or not at all,” I told him.

  He paused. “That wasn’t the deal.”

  “It’s the new deal. Take it or leave it.”

  “Fine. We’ll be ready.”

  I pressed end and put the phone back in my pocket before I obliterated it in my hand. Anger and resentment licked along the edges of my brain, tightening my jaw and stretching my skin. I hated taking orders. I took several deep breaths to push it back down.

  “You wanna get outta here? Maybe get some giggle water?” Baker asked. His tone was light and he wore a grin, but I noticed he kept the glow of Olivia’s room within his peripheral vision.

  “Holden.” The angel stuck her head out of the room and waited for me to look at her. “What is the new location?”

  “Just a second,” I told Baker. I went back into the room, took a black pushpin from a container on the scarred wooden table in the center, then scanned the maps. Black pins marked suspected demon locations. When a spot was cleared, a white pin replaced the black. Now she also had a scattering of red and yellow pins on the board. “What are those for?” I asked.

  Olivia ran her fingers over the new pins and a little smile curved her lips, but when she looked at me, all smiles were gone. “The location?”

  I pushed the pin into the street in Northbrook. “There. Baker will start staking it out.”

  She moved in for a closer look, tilted her head to the side and closed her eyes. I had seen her do that for hours at a time. She wasn’t going to answer my question. She never did. If this talking to her thing was ever going to work, I needed to break through. She needed to see me. I moved to touch her shoulder, but she pulled away before I could, eyes still closed. Message received.

  I took two steps toward the door. Her eyes popped open. “Do you think you deserve to be forgiven?”

  My feet stilled. “Forgiven for what?”

  “For all the wrong you have caused. For the evil and perversity you have willingly placed in this world. Should you be forgiven simply because you fell in love?” Her voice was emotionless and flat.

  I never thought I should be forgiven. I never believed I would be. Olivia was the one who had those hopes and fears, not me. I looked back at her. “Do you think I do?”

  For once her thoughts were clear on her face. She didn’t. That judgment hit me harder than I would have guessed. I nodded and started toward the door.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  I continued out. This was who we were now.

  Baker and I left the warehouse and it was a relief to have the distance between us. I still loved her, but she was hard to be around. Baker’s favorite bar wasn’t too far away. It was dark, seedy, and mostly human. Femi waited inside, her arms stretched out across the back of a booth, and openly staring at the humans with a vaguely disgusted expression.

  “They really are a strange race, aren’t they?” she asked as we approached.

  Baker nudged her foot off the seat so he could sit, leaving the other side for me. “How long you been here, kitten?”

  She directed her cat-eyed gaze toward him and ran one sharpened fingernail down the side of his cheek, not leaving a mark, but the threat was apparent. “What did I tell you about
calling me kitten?”

  He caught her hand and kissed the back of it. “I do it out of love.”

  She pulled away, smiling. “No one’s buying what you’re selling, champ.”

  I slid out of the booth and went to the bar, leaving them to flirt. Whether or not either of them meant anything by it I didn’t know or care. They were adults; they could do what they wanted. I ordered two double whiskeys for myself and carried them back to the table. Baker made a move to take my second drink, but the knife I stabbed in the table next to his hand stopped him. They were mine.

  “So, Chuckles, we gotta talk,” Femi said. I drank half a glass in one gulp then looked at her. She brushed her long ponytail over her shoulder and leaned in. “What are you going to do about the angel?”

  I polished off my first drink, pushed the glass to one side, then took the second one in hand.

  “You know this can’t last Holden,” Baker said.

  I leaned back in the booth, cradling my beverage as they both looked on expectantly. “Is this a fucking intervention?”

  “Have you been eating glass? No? Well, then it isn’t an intervention. This is a meeting of the still sane members of our group,” Femi said. “Did you see that episode with the person who eats glass—”

  “Not the time,” Baker stopped her. “Femi’s right though. Olivia is not herself and she isn’t getting better. I hoped she’d snap out of it by now.”

  I downed my second drink and stood up. I couldn’t control Olivia. We just had to wait her out. There was no reason to talk about it. If they didn’t like it, no one was asking them to stay.

  “Longer you wait, the less likely it is that she’ll ever come back,” Baker said. “Every day she gets weaker and the angel gets stronger. You gotta do somethin’, boss.”