Wicked Deal (Shadow Guild: The Rebel 2)

My unwilling gaze went to the head on the floor.

“I’m sorry about that.” He frowned. “That was…gruesome.”

“It’s fine.” As much as my stomach was heaving, it really was fine. That horned thing had been about to squeeze the life from me. I’d take his death over mine any day, and I’d learn to get the iron stomach necessary to live in this world.

“I try not to kill anymore, but when I saw you there…” He trailed off. “I lost it.”

“You were worried?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks.”

He nodded, raising his hand as if to reach for me. He closed it into a fist and lowered it. “You’re certain that you’re all right?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I should have let him keep his head. We could have questioned him.”

“Maybe not. I shoved my wine stem in his throat. But why didn’t he die? He could barely breathe.”

“He’s a demon. They need air, but their bodies are different. Some can go longer without oxygen.”

I looked back at the body, which appeared to be flickering. “What’s happening to him?”

“Shite.” The Devil surged to his feet and approached the body. “Demon bodies disappear from this plane and reappear back in their hells.”

“He’s not really dead?”

“He is. For a while, at least.”

The Devil knelt by the body and began to search the pockets. I blinked, realizing that he was half naked. He wore only his trousers, his entire top half bare.

I’d been so focused on his face a moment ago—on the fear for me that I’d seen there—that I hadn’t noticed the rest of him. Now, I couldn’t help but notice.

His muscles were chiseled to perfection, but his skin was a latticework of old scars. Knife and sword wounds, it looked like. Hundreds of battles from long ago. None of the bullet wounds one might see on a modern soldier.

A shadow on his shoulder caught my eye, and I squinted.

It looked like a compass rose, but far blurrier.

I scrambled upright and approached him silently, staring hard at it.

Holy crap—that was the same tattoo the corpse in his club had borne. The Devil had tried to have it removed, but it hadn’t worked.

“What is that?” I demanded. “Your tattoo.”

He stiffened, cursing slightly under his breath. “We need to search the body before it disappears.”

He was right, but I was entranced by the tattoo. By the lies.

Then my training kicked in. I might have been tossed out of school, but I’d learned a hell of a lot. I shoved aside the emotion and stepped over the body, which was now half transparent. I could see the carpet beneath it as I knelt and began to search his jacket.

I pulled out everything I could, setting it on the ground beside me. Fueled by an idea, I jerked at the body’s clothes, looking for the same tattoo the Devil wore.

I found it on the demon’s shoulder.

I pressed my hand to it, calling on my magic. I had to know what it was.