Sweet Reckoning(20)

“What do you want?” I asked.

“We aren’t here to hurt you.” The man’s accent was thick and European, sounding something like Russian to my untrained ear.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I am Marek, son of Shax. From Czech Republic.” Son of the Duke of Theft. I held the shoulder strap of my bag a little tighter as he continued. “And this is Caterina, daughter of Jezebet, from Romania.”

He smiled warmly. She didn’t.

“What do you guys want?” I asked again.

I had to be careful, just as Azael had said. Caterina could sense lies and she was absolutely no friend to fellow Neph.

“We just want to talk,” Marek said, never losing the pleasant smile. “May we come in?”

I remembered back to last week when I’d seen Dad in L.A. He’d mentioned looking into the possibility of the son of Shax being an ally. That made me feel slightly better . . . but only a smidge. For a possible ally, he didn’t keep very good company.

“I was just leaving. We can talk outside.”

The last thing I wanted was to be stuck in a room with them. I felt the light weight of the knife in my pocket, though I didn’t like the two-against-one odds.

They crowded the doorway, but I pushed my way out. The door was almost closed behind me when Caterina slapped her tiny palm to my chest.

“We prefer to speak in the room,” she said.

I smacked her hand away on instinct and yanked the door shut.

“Sorry, but I prefer to speak outside.”

“You are not sorry,” she scoffed.

Dang it. Stupid lie detector. I’d have to watch every word I said around her.

“Fine. I’m not sorry.”

“It’s all right, Caterina.” Marek smiled at me. “You can hardly blame her for being cautious, yes?”

He gave her a look that said something along the lines of Chill out, you’re scaring her. She rolled her eyes and started moving to the exit door down the hall. She looked like a soldier the way she marched in her black pants and stiff button-up white shirt.

“Come on then,” she called brusquely.

Marek shot me an apologetic glance and waved a hand out for me to go next. I went, looking over my shoulder at him several times with distrust. I had the hilt inside my bag since I was wearing shorts, and I wasn’t letting his stealthy hands anywhere near it.

When I slowed near the door, Marek bumped me from behind and I let out a little screech, turning on him. He kept his hands on my back to steady himself, and I had to shove him away with an elbow.

“My apologies,” he said, all innocence. He slipped his hands into his pockets and nodded down at the paper outside someone’s hotel-room door. The caption was about a huge pawnshop robbery in Atlanta. “The headline caught my attention.”

Not knowing whether or not to believe him, I pulled the bag around from my back to my chest as I pushed through the doors. I felt the shape of the hilt through the bottom of the bag and breathed a sigh of relief.

Outside it was dark, but the air still held the heaviness of the day’s heat and humidity. I didn’t walk to my car, opting instead to stand in a patch of grass at the side of the hotel, away from prying eyes. I faced them with my stance wide, sliding the book bag onto both shoulders in case I had to fight, which I prayed I wouldn’t.

“Strange things are happening,” crooned Caterina. “Would you not agree?”

I kept my hands loose at my sides, prepared. “You have one more chance to tell me why you’re here before I leave.”

She narrowed her beady dark eyes at me, and Marek stepped forward to speak.

“We have a few questions, daughter of Belial. That is all.”

“Questions from you? Or questions someone sent you to ask?”

I was losing patience, feeling overly anxious.

“Are you a virgin?” Caterina blurted.

Great.

“Okay, so something you’ve been sent to ask,” I said.

She smiled, a malicious show of teeth. Dread pooled in my belly.

Marek glowered down at Caterina.

“I’m not answering your questions,” I said. “I don’t trust you.”

Her smile was one of genuine amusement this time. “It’s true—you don’t trust me. But evading questions is almost always a sign of guilt.”

“Almost,” Marek pointed out, speaking to Caterina. “But not always. You’ve cornered her like an animal, and she obviously feels threatened.”