Keeping it casual, Mateo said, “There’s one thing I’ve been wondering about.”
“Ask away.”
“Why can’t I see that you’re a demon? I’m a Steadfast. I see all kinds of magic, everywhere around town. Old spells. Sources of power. Elizabeth’s true form—though she’s changed since Halloween.”
“Indeed she has. Elizabeth’s not quite the woman she used to be,” Asa said as he picked up Mateo’s phone and started scrolling through the music library. “But, to answer your question, you can’t see the truth about me in part because I can’t see the truth about you. A Steadfast’s identity is hidden from demons; even when I was in the demonic realm, and I knew Nadia had taken a Steadfast, I had no idea it was you. And no wonder, of course. A male Steadfast? Bizarre. Anyway, part of the magic that hides a Steadfast from demons also hides demons from a Steadfast. It puts a curtain between us. A veil. Blocks vision in both directions.”
Was that true? It sounded like it could be. Maybe that was something there was no point in lying about. Asa might be a source of useful information—at least, once you weeded out the lies. Mateo tried again. “What do you mean, Elizabeth’s not the woman she used to be?”
“Before Halloween, she was effectively immortal. Now she’s not.”
“. . . She’s not?” But Elizabeth had lived for centuries. Her power was almost limitless—wasn’t it?
Maybe not. Maybe not.
Seemingly oblivious to Mateo’s reaction, Asa continued, “Elizabeth Pike can die just like any other human being now. Which makes killing her a lot easier, by the way. Not easy, of course. She’s still got four hundred years’ worth of magic on her side. But easier! Now, let’s see. What have you got on this music iPod . . . thing? I admit I’m out of touch after a few centuries in hell.”
“Give me that.” Mateo yanked back his phone; it was warm to the touch, like he’d left it in his dad’s car on a blazing summer day. Asa shrugged.
Elizabeth could die. She could die just like any other person. Like Mom, and all the other people she’d made suffer.
Asa could have been lying, but Mateo didn’t think so. He’d seen the change in Elizabeth for himself. The magic around her was no longer so dramatic, so blinding. She’d lost some kind of power, and if that was immortality—it made a whole lot of sense.
“I know that look.” Asa smiled. “Someone’s thinking about revenge.”
“I never said—”
“Didn’t have to. I’m a demon. I can smell vengeance. Literally, I mean. It’s a little like blood. Metallic. Sharp on the tongue.” Asa turned toward Mateo, all pretense of ease gone. The intensity of his gaze made it impossible to look away. “You want Elizabeth dead? So do I. My boss, also known as the One Beneath, will triumph with or without her. I’d prefer ‘without her.’ Want to hear more?”
“You’re screwing with my head.”
“Of course I am. I’m a demon. But that doesn’t mean I’m not telling you the truth. Nothing screws people up worse than the truth.”
It’s probably all bullshit, Mateo thought. But maybe it’s not, and the part about Elizabeth being mortal again is definitely true. “Yeah. I want to hear more.”
Asa slid a little closer. The heat from him flickered across Mateo’s skin, as though he were standing near a bonfire. “Obviously, Nadia wants to defeat Elizabeth through magic, to undo her spells or counteract them with spells of her own. She’s a witch. Witches are trained to think that way. But Elizabeth’s magic can’t do her one damn bit of good if she’s dead. If you want to stop her, I suggest a more direct approach. Stop worrying about whatever Elizabeth is or isn’t trying to accomplish. Start thinking about how to take her out.”
Murder. Asa was talking about murder. Once, Mateo would have thought he wasn’t capable of that, not unless somebody he loved was in danger, and it didn’t seem like it would be easy even then.
Back then, he’d thought Elizabeth was one of the people he loved most.
I could, Mateo realized. If it was Elizabeth—I could.
He opened his mouth, closed it again. The words refused to come at first, but he got them out. “How do we get to her?”
Asa’s grin broadened. “I like a man who isn’t afraid to admit he wants revenge. I like it very much. You’re wise to act now, before Elizabeth gets her claws into Nadia. Deeper into Nadia than they already are.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on. She’s been trying to recruit Nadia. You know this.”
“Yeah, but Nadia would never go for that.”
“She wouldn’t? Are you positive?” Rising onto his knees, Asa made a great show of looking around the beach. The driftwood behind him had been scorched black. “I don’t see her here with you now.”
“We’re all kind of freaked out after last night.”
“If I were young and in love, I wouldn’t let that stop me. Fate has given you absent mothers and highly distracted fathers. Why on earth aren’t the two of you wrapped around each other in carnal delight—tonight, tomorrow night, pretty much any second you’re not eating or sleeping? Or in study hall, once known as chemistry. Could you believe they made us watch Code of the Ancient Maya? How is that science?”
“Nadia and I don’t need dating advice from Satan, okay?”
Obviously bored, Asa held up one hand and made the universal symbol for blah blah blah. “My point is that you’ve left yourself vulnerable. Left Nadia vulnerable. The only thing more compelling than love is power. Trust me: In hell you get plenty of lessons about that one. If magic is still the first thing in Nadia’s life—not you—isn’t it possible that she’ll always choose magical power in the end? Even if that means giving you up?”
“This is the part where you start twisting my mind around,” Mateo said. “I know what you’re doing.”
Asa just laughed. “Keep telling yourself that. The denial can only go on for so long, but you might as well enjoy it while it lasts.” He rose to his feet, brushing sand from his jeans. “I’ll tell you another truth, Mateo. Another hard fact for you to ignore until it’s too late. In every romance, one person loves the other more. Sometimes it’s a lot; sometimes it’s such a slight difference that nobody could ever tell—nobody, that is, except the one who’s loved a little less. He’s always aware of that patch of shadow where the sunlight doesn’t fall. That fraction between how far he’s reaching and how far away she is. The difference between loving and loving absolutely. Nobody else can even see it, but the one who does more than his share of the loving? Eventually he can’t see anything else.”
Mateo wanted to tell Asa he was wrong, but the words seemed to die in his throat. It couldn’t be true . . . could it?
“Oh, look at the time.” Asa made a great show of stretching and getting to his feet. “I should go. We’re finishing Dickens tomorrow. It’s a pleasure to have books again, you know. No libraries in hell.”
As he heard the soft crunch of Asa’s shoes against the sand, Mateo knew he should say something, anything, to let Asa know it wouldn’t be that easy to tear him apart from Nadia. By the time he turned around, though, the demon had vanished as if he’d never been there at all.
Another exciting night here at the bustling media center of Captive’s Sound, Verlaine thought.
She sat behind the desk at the town paper, the Guardian, which came out only once a week and mostly just printed advertising circulars. Verlaine had an internship here, which meant less “covering news of importance to the town” and more “hanging around in case anybody drops off classified ads.” They let her write stories, even ran them on the front page, but Verlaine had yet to see any evidence that either the editors or the citizenry appreciated her hard work.