Binding the Shadows (Arcadia Bell #3)(30)

Priya’s face drew up as he thought about this. “It is unlikely, but there is only one way to find out. I will hunt her in the Æthyr.”

A heavy relief sank through my bones. “Would you, please?”

“I am yours to command.”

“Don’t say that. I don’t want to command you. I’m asking a favor.”

“I was made to serve you. When I was reborn into this body, the first thing I remembered was your face.” The way he said this made me equal parts flattered and uncomfortable. And he was staring at me intently, though it could be because his gigantic black owl eyes make every glance intense. It was hard to tell.

I decided to play it safe and offered a logical reason. “We were linked for so long.” From the time I was sixteen until a few months ago, to be exact. Nine years. Yet this was the longest, most personal conversation we’d ever had.

He began to respond, but as soon as his mouth opened, his body seemed to crackle with unseen energy. We both stared at each other for a long moment. “My strength is fading. The Æthyr seems to be pulling me back. I feel ungrounded.”

It made sense. Æthyric demons couldn’t stick around on this plane for long without a host.

“I will hunt down news of your mother,” he said, and quickly jumped to his feet.

I followed. “Wait! What about our link? Can you reestablish it?” I could call him using this ritual again, I supposed, but it was much easier—and less vomit-causing—to be able to use the homing sigil on my arm.

Strong, indefinable emotion slackened his facial features. Then he said in a low voice, “It would be my greatest honor.” He held out his hand, requesting mine. “We can do this directly now,” he said, noticing my hesitation. A wave of crackling energy made his neck muscles strain.

We didn’t have much time. I nodded my head quickly and gave him my hand.

Foreign and lush, Æthyric words tumbled from his lips in a low chant as he held his palm over mine. This certainly was a lot more direct than the gigantic Heka burst I had to send through the planes to link us the first time around. After a few moments, a nebulous cloud of sooty black light floated out between our palms—a light that matched his halo. I felt a sharp pinch. He made a noise, then things felt . . . different between us. I felt the link.

I pulled my hand away, half expecting it to be marked somehow. But it wasn’t mine that was marked, it was his: my personal sigil, black as ink, was etched into his palm. A whisper-thin spider web line floated from my palm and his.

That was new, too.

I ran my other hand between, and it went through the line as if it were a laser beam. Not solid. Just like the line that had connected me to Jupe’s tattoo when he was in trouble.

Priya grabbed my hand and peered down at it. “There is another link here,” he said, startled. “You have another servant?” He said it like I was cheating on him.

“It’s someone under my protection. A demon child.”

Priya’s face lifted. “Ah. I understand now.” His body crackled again, and this time he almost completely disappeared. “I must leave. I will come to you when I have information. I will not fail you again.”

“You didn’t fail me.” For the love of Pete.

Black wings snapped open to reveal an impressive span. Rather intimidating. Not an everyday sight, that’s for damn sure. Holding his marked hand over his stomach, he canted his head, then gave me another smile before both he and the black line connecting us disappeared completely.

And before I could process everything that just happened, my phone chimed inside my jeans pocket. I looked at the screen.

MSG FROM JUPE, 3:05 AM: DAD SAID YOU HAD EMERGENCY AT KAR YEE’S. ARE YOU BOTH OK? TELL HER I SAID HI. NEXT TIME YOU SHOULD TAKE ME WITH YOU. I CAN SLEEP ON HER COUCH.

Dammit. Lon managed to remove the blame from the whole “you leave or I leave” situation. That was . . . the right thing to do. And he went against his big honesty-or-death policy, telling a little white lie to make the peace. Just like that, I felt tender and weepy again. I sent Jupe a response.

SENT 3:05 AM: EVERYTHING OK. WHY R YOU STILL AWAKE?

MSG FROM JUPE, 3:06 AM: I FELL ASLEEP AND WOKE BACK UP. HEY, GRAMMA IS TAKING US ALL OUT TO EAT TOMORROW NIGHT SO BE SURE TO GET BACK HOME BY 5 EXACTLY. SHE’S A FREAK-A-DEAK ABOUT BEING ON TIME BUT I WON’T LET HER LEAVE WITHOUT U.

SENT 3:06 AM: PROMISE TO BE ON TIME. NOW GO TO BED, MOTORMOUTH.

MSG FROM JUPE, 3:06 AM: GOING! G’NIGHT!!! <3 YOU!!!!!!!!!!!

Heart you, too, kid.

That wasn’t the only text I received. Before I went to sleep, Lon let me know that he’d found Noel Saint-Hill’s address—which was good, because Bob’s online search was fruitless. Lon volunteered to pick me up at Kar Yee’s the next day so we could check it out. I told him not to bring his gun. He told me I was awfully bossy.

Around noon, I got ready to meet him. I was worried the T-shirt I’d packed was too casual for Rose’s dinner plans, so I dressed in jeans and one of Kar Yee’s tops, a long sleeve striped blouse that cost a small fortune. It was sort of tight around my chest, but Kar Yee was a couple of sizes smaller. Normally she wouldn’t let me borrow clothes—no way, no how. But at the moment she was too hopped up on Bob’s happy pills to care.

I took the elevator down and stood outside the stoop of her building, scanning my surroundings. No dark sedan across the street, and no dark figure slinking in the shadows. No shadows at all, actually. It was one of those sunny days in California where the sky is so clear and big, it makes everything around you seem a little less crowded. I lifted my face up, soaking in rays and wishing the temperature was just a few degrees warmer as traffic whizzed by on Kar Yee’s street. After a couple of minutes, a luxury SUV slowed to a stop in front of me. The dark-tinted driver’s window lowered. A gorgeous Earthbound with a gold-flaked green halo and a dead-sexy smile draped his arm out the window.