Page 13 of Infernal

Gabriel’s eyes cut away from me and I immediately reddened at the obvious scarlet letter I was wearing. We were really going to need to get that whole blood regimen thing underway, or this uncomfortable scene was going to repeat itself over and over again every morning. And trust me, once was enough.

“Any news on Trace?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest as I moved the conversation along.

“No.” Gabriel shook his head. “Well, not exactly.”

“Not exactly?” I repeated, fairly certain that was a yes or no question. There was a thickness in the room that made the tension almost palpable. I hadn’t noticed it when I first walked in, but I did now.

“Gabriel’s been on the horn with the Council all morning,” offered Dominic as he waggled his eyebrows.

“About what?”

Gabriel motioned for me to sit down, and I did, worried my legs would fail me if he decided to hit me with even more bad news than we already had.

“Okay, I’m sitting. What is it? What’s going on?” I finally managed to croak out when he didn’t immediately begin talking.

His forehead lined as he looked down at me with a hard edge to his eyes. “There’s been a heavy influx of demon sightings all night. Far too many to be considered a coincidence,” he added, making sure I knew where he was going with this. “As far as we can tell, they’re slowly moving inland and closing in on Hollow Hills.”

A thick, strangling knot formed at the back of my throat. If the demon population was suddenly heading this way, it was for a reason. Something was luring them here.

“But we’re stillwarded, right?” I asked nervously as I tried to remember what I’d learned about demons during my training sessions with Gabriel.

From what I could remember, the fight against demons consisted of two things: vanquishing demons using well-trained, cut throat Slayers who weren’t afraid of getting their hands dirty on the front lines. And apotropaic magic to ward off demons and other lowly creatures from specific areas, and sometimes even entire cities. They believed in proactive prevention as much as they did eradication.

“Not exactly,” he said, his voice gruff with tension. “They’re overriding the sigils.”

“How is that possible? I thought the seals could only be broken by the Caster who inscribed them?”

“Yes and no.”

“Seriously, Gabriel? Pick one.”

“Well, that’s the way it always worked in the past. That is, until now.”

“Dammit.” If the demons were somehow breaking the seals the Order had in place, we’d just lost the first line of defense against them. None of us were safe anymore. Not that we ever really were, but that was beside the point.

“Okay, so how do we stop them?”

“The Council’s already mobilized some of their top Rigs, but it’s a temporary solution at best. There’s too many of them and not enough of us. Whatever’s happening, it’s connected to Lucifer, and the Council knows it.” He paused briefly, searching for the right words before he continued. “They want to speak with you, Jemma. They’re not asking anymore.”

“Uh-uh.” I swallowed the knot as I tried to think of a way out of this. “Not yet—not until I find Trace.” There was no way I was going into a meeting with the Council completely clueless about what we were up against, or whattheirintentions were. The last thing I needed was to be at their mercy, especially when Trace’s life was on the line.

For all I knew, they were looking for me to lock me up and throw away the key for good.

“And how exactly do you plan on finding him?” asked Dominic, irritation heavy in his tone. “Being that the Council has yet to pinpoint his whereabouts.”

“Honestly? I don’t know.” The only thing I knew for sure was that I needed information and I needed reinforcements. I needed to find someone who would be willing to help me get answers—someone who would put Trace’s life above their own. The Order wouldn’t…but maybe his father would.

I had to start somewhere.

“But I have an idea,” I said as I stood up from the sofa, my legs shaky with anticipation. “I need a ride to All Saints.”

“For what?” asked Dominic, following me as I stalked across the room to grab my jacket.

“What do you think?”

He snagged my elbow and turned me around. “This is hardly the time to visit the local watering hole, love.”

“You think?” I pulled my arm free. “I’m going to talk to Peter.” Because if there was any hope of reaching Trace, Peter Macarthur would help me find a way.

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