She gulped the last of her coffee. “You left a good tip, right?” When he gave her a hard look, she shrugged. “Just asking. Since you never tipped me.”
“Almost twenty percent,” he said stiffly.
“Okay, then. It was just me.” She stalked ahead of him.
They drove back toward the club, then angled away a half dozen streets toward the given address. Nim twisted her hands in her lap. “Whatever is down in the tunnels could go any direction.”
Jonah shook his head. “It’s a maze, but it’s a maze with maps.”
“I’m so sure monsters follow maps,” she snapped.
“Except the ones that can bash through walls.” He parked in a row behind three nondescript dark sedans. “There’s Liam’s car.”
“Do you all drive such boring cars?”
“Fighting evil doesn’t pay as well as stripping.” He got out.
By the time he crossed to her side of the car, she’d already popped out and was staring at the four-story office building with its multicolored signs for a real estate office, a chiropractor, a CPA. “The doorway to hell is here?”
“No, the doorway to last century’s freight-tunnel system is here. The door to hell has better signage.”
He led the way inside and found the stairwell. The stairs leading up were smooth concrete. The stairs going down were metal grate with no hand railing.
At the lowest level, a voice called out Jonah’s name.
They followed the echoes. In the corner of the basement, a metal door stood ajar. Pitch-blackness filled the open rectangle. Nim sighed. Of course there was a lower level.
“Looks like a doorway to hell to me,” she muttered.
A light stabbed out through the darkness. “In here.”
Jonah strode ahead. Nim tried to force her Vans to move, but they seemed stuck on the rough concrete floor.
He paused. “You coming?”
“I’ve always made it a policy not to run into dark basements half-dressed, chasing eerie voices.” She held up one hand. “Don’t remind me that I picked the outfit.”
“That’s Sera. She’s not eerie. At least when she’s not mad.”
“And when she is?”
“Then Archer has to deal with her. But since he’s usually the one who makes her mad, that’s his problem. Come on.” He held out his hand.
She didn’t want to take it. And didn’t want to look like she didn’t want to. He might get the wrong impression. Like she didn’t want to touch him. Which she didn’t, but not because she didn’t want to, but because she wanted to touch him too much. No touching. That was the rule, which had been working great.
And here she was, standing in a dark basement, half-dressed, with a bunch of demon-possessed psychos waiting for her. She sucked at following even her own rules.
She put her hand in Jonah’s. His palm rasped across hers, and he led her over the threshold.
As her vision adjusted, the shadows on the other side lightened, like someone had boosted the contrast on a grainy scan. If only she could Photoshop herself out of the picture.
Five people waited, including the big man—Ecco—she’d met earlier and two other men, almost as large. The two women tucked among the men looked small and slight even though one was relatively tall and the other decidedly curvy.
Jonah huffed out a breath. “This is all you brought?”
All? Among them, Nim counted a recurved axe, a hammer big enough to knock a basketball like a golf ball, three long-bladed knives, and Ecco’s multipronged gauntlets. Jonah, with his simple hook, looked seriously underdressed. She knew that feeling well and edged closer to him.
“I sent a second team under Lex’s command, with Haji tracking, to the nearest exit,” Hammer Man said. “But the tenebrae have several hours’ head start, if they finished their butchery around dawn. Likely, this is nothing more than a scouting mission.”
The curvy woman propped her hand on the low-slung hip of her black cargo pants. “And honestly? We didn’t have many talyan to choose from. One whiff of estrogen and you alpha males go racing for your hidey-holes.”
“Hey,” Ecco protested. “I sniffed and didn’t run.”
At Nim’s side, Jonah stood motionless. Whatever had freaked out the others had left him untouched.
Untouched. No wonder their demon resonance had brought them together.
“By the way, hi, I’m Sera,” said the taller woman. “Here’s your flashlight.” In one smooth action, she pulled the light from the back pocket of her black chinos, clicked it on, and pitched it underhand. “Welcome to the bad old boys’ club, Elaine.”
The beam tumbled through the air, glinting off the dizzying array of blades.
Dazzled, Nim reached out to fend it off. To her surprise, the grip slapped into her palm as if her hand had known where to be. “Actually, I go by Nim in all the clubs I work. And while I love a good light show, I could do without the need for second teams and major weaponry.”
“You don’t need the flashlight either,” said the man standing nearest Sera. Archer. Nim recognized his brusque tone from the phone call and clutched the flashlight to her chest. “And if you work anything, it’s your teshuva. Master its vision along with its reflexes.”
“I’m concentrating on the basics,” she said. “Like sucking the juice out of bad guys.”
Ecco straightened. “I think I love you.” His gaze was fastened on her front, where the flashlight shone across her breasts.
Damn thin T-shirt. From now on, sports bra, she decided. In black.
She lowered the flashlight to her side and bumped it against Jonah’s hook. When had he moved around her? At the clack of plastic on metal, he edged away and circled around her again in a protective prowl. It was sweet that he wanted to defend her.
Unless, of course, he was just nervous she was going to embarrass him in front of his people.
The shorter woman stepped forward. Two crescent knives glimmered in her grasp, the blade points just wider than a spread hand, but wickedly pointed. “I’m Jilly. That’s Archer with Sera. Ecco, who you met already.”
The tall, rangy man eased up beside her and canted the hammer over his broad shoulder. “I’m Liam.”
Nim studied him. “I guess that makes you my new boss. Usually I get naked and dance at job interviews.”
Ecco raised his hand, metal-studded gauntlets flashing. “I’ll be the new league leader.”
Jilly cut him a glance bright with violet highlights. “Over Liam’s—and my—dead bodies.”
Ecco blinked. “Is that how we do promotions? I thought we drew straws.” He grinned at Nim. “But if you end up looking for a side job . . .”
Liam rumbled, a low menace in the dark. “You’ll get a chance to dance with the demon, Nim, if we catch up with the tenebrae who butchered your friends.”
His words seemed to ignite the scarcely banked ferocity in the crew. A half dozen pairs of eyes sparked violet, and Nim’s spine prickled as if someone had struck a match down the bones.
They hadn’t been her friends, but she didn’t correct him. Because she felt the same urge for vengeance rising in her. From the tight set of Jonah’s jaw, she wondered how he justified the impulse for violence. If vengeance belonged to the Lord . . . Well, the Lord wasn’t available right now, so please leave a message scrawled in black ichor.
Sera pulled a sheaf of papers from a backpack. “After the river flooded downtown, some of the tunnels were closed down or filled in. Those changes are marked. Sometimes. I doubt the tenebrae drywalled after themselves when they fled this morning, so we should have a clear path to follow.” She passed around the maps. “And here’s a close-up from the security tape Jonah brought us. It’s the man who took Nim’s anklet, the same man who might be leading this tenebrae pack.” She handed that sheet to Archer.