Page 93 of The Deer and the Dragon
My gaze shot between the closet and the glazed eyes of the man who rested in the corner. If his chest didn’t rise and fall with signs of life, I’d have sworn I was staring at a slack-jawed corpse. I couldn’t keep the concern from creeping into my expression.
He smirked. “Oh, give me some credit,” he said. “Go ahead, call the motel.”
I blinked in confusion. He pointed to a small, greenish, seventies-era landline with a tightly coiled cord that had tohave been sitting beside the man’s bed for decades. I looked at him with confusion.
“It’s zero. Press the button.”
I wasn’t sure what was more disconcerting—his casual energy or the bizarre instructions. I crossed obediently, wrapping my right hand around the phone and lifting it to my ears. The consistent note of the dial tone blasted my eardrums until I hit zero. The second the phone in the lobby began to ring, the clerk jumped to attention and walked swiftly to his station. Though only a few feet away, he answered with total oblivion.
“Bellfield Inn,” he said politely. “How can I help you?”
Azrames nodded expectantly.
“Um.” I swallowed, eyes going between the back of the man’s head and Azrames. Though only feet away, the clerk acted as though I’d never existed. Unsure of what to say, I kept the conversation as normal as possible. “I’m in room 305. I just wanted to ask for maid service to be suspended today? So I can rest?”
“Absolutely, ma’am,” he said. “No one will bother you. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
I shook my head, still looking at Azrames. If I wasn’t mistaken, his gray-black eyes flickered with shades of red and hellfire. I didn’t look away from Az as I responded, “No, that’s everything.”
“Have a pleasant day, and please let me know if there’s anything I can do,” he said before the line disconnected. The moment he hung up, the clerk returned to his chair in the corner to resume his blank, listless stare.
I returned the phone to its receiver. I mainlined adrenaline, cortisol shooting straight to my heart as I stared at the demon. He leaned against the wall with perfect, unmoving gravity.
“What the hell did you do?” I whispered.
“I won’t tell you that you’re welcome, because you’re responsible for neither knowledge nor gratitude for theremovals of evils of the world, but I do serve a very specific purpose in the mortal realm. I’m glad I was with you last night.” He closed his eyes slowly as if the thought pained him. “I wish I could be everywhere, for everyone. I’m not omniscient. Betty helps me find those who deserve it, but…” He shook his head as if clearing it of cobwebs. “Now, find something to cover that arm. Let’s go.”
I sucked in a shocked breath, but it wasn’t one of disapproval.
I wasn’t aghast at the vileness of the world.
I wasn’t startled, or even disappointed, that a gross, gaunt man in the dead of the night had filled my room with cameras and undoubtedly observed countless women without their knowledge or consent. I was dismayed, of course, but not for the reason one might think.
I was upset for every moment that I’d existed before knowing Azrames.
I understood his quiet frustration as his words had drifted off. The look on his face was one of a man who would do his job without pay—not for the luxury apartment, the beautiful vehicle, the soft sheets, or the sugary cookies that he doubtlessly had to replace every week just to ensure they were never stale.
If I could go back in time, I’d grab every escort I’d known by the shoulders and beg her to wear the same sigil that dangled from Azrames’s lowermost chain. He was the dark angel who lurked in the shadows. He was the one I wanted when my back was against a wall.
“Az?”
He raised an eyebrow from where he leaned near the closet but said nothing.
“If we had made a deal…one where you said you wouldn’t do anything I didn’t explicitly ask for…”
His shoulders slumped slightly. He removed a hand from his pocket and gestured to the man. “I know what you’re asking. I couldn’t have done any of this. This was your life,and your night. If we’d made a deal? Then, if you hadn’t explicitly asked for me to handle him, I wouldn’t have been able to act of my own accord. You would have had to tell me to destroy the cameras, to go from room to room throughout the motel to ensure every woman was safe, to erase decades of footage so that anyone who looks at it sees only static, to infiltrate the wiring of his brain…”
My eyes nearly popped out of my skull. “You did all that?”
“Free will isn’t always a two-way street,” he breathed. “But when I have it…”
I wondered if he could hear the way my heart thundered in my ears as I weighed his words. Fauna was right about several things. Above all: I was an idiot.
His lips pressed into a thin line before he said, “Don’t make deals unless you want them honored, Marlow. And then when someone adheres to the parameters of your agreement, understand that it’s something you asked for. Now, are you going to choose clothes, or do I need to do it for you?”
I didn’t want to fight him on the issue. I didn’t have the energy to learn more about binding verbal contracts. Instead, I grabbed the closest long-sleeve plaid shirt and shrugged into it. I rolled it up to the middle of my forearms, ensuring my tattoo was covered, and left it unbuttoned for the late summer warmth. I looked to the clerk once more but knew without having to ask that he would never be a problem again.
Whatever gratitude I’d felt was being replaced by my rising tide of anxiety that we hadn’t made any strides toward finding Caliban. We got to the lobby before I asked Azrames to explain our plan.
