Demon Blood

over once by a demon. Then I got fucked over again by Guardians. All I got out of that was a dead community. So, yeah, I’ve thought this through.”
    And pulled it all out of his ass.
    The demon nodded. “You’ll understand that I won’t settle for a handshake, Mr. Deacon. I can’t afford you betraying me. We’ll seal this agreement with a bargain.”
    He hadn’t made one with Caym; he’d just been beaten. And a bargain put his soul on the line, but he felt safer with one—it meant the demon would keep up his part.
    “All right,” he said. “Here’s my part: My communities will bring the humans to the location you choose. After that, you let us live and forbid your demons from killing any of us.”
    Which didn’t really mean anything. The bargain only prevented Malkvial himself from killing the vampires. With every other demon, all bets were off. He could have asked for Malkvial’s protection, instead—but there was no way in hell Deacon could bring himself to do that.
    If Rosalia’s plan went through, all the demons would be dead, anyway.
    Malkvial’s eyes gleamed. Yeah, he knew he was getting a damn good deal. “And if they don’t follow my direction?”
    “Then I’m talking to the wrong demon.” He let that sink in. “And the humans—no killing them. Slap ’em around, whatever. No killing.”
    “You ask a lot.”
    “Yeah, well, you kill them, the Guardians find out, and they’ll be after our asses. They’ll frown at vampires who push the Rules a little. But if we’re connected to people dying, then they’ll start hunting us down. We just want to be left alone, not always looking over our shoulders. And you being demons, I think you can come up with ways to have your fun.”
    “I think we can.” If his smile hadn’t reminded Deacon that demons were pure evil, then the glee in Malkvial’s voice would have. “You have your bargain, Mr. Deacon.”

    Two hours later, Taylor teleported him out of the catacombs, as arranged. If anyone had been watching the church, they’d assume they had just lost him.
    He went straight to the kitchen, found the blood he needed in the refrigerator, pushed back behind a shitload of food. He took the glass out to the courtyard, and that was where Rosalia found him a few minutes later. She sat next to him, holding a rolled-up crêpe that smelled of cinnamon and sweet cream.
    “You were brilliant,” she said softly.
    “I made a bargain with a demon. If I don’t bring the vampires together and pull this off, I’ll be freezing in Hell with Michael.” He took a swig, feeling the electric flavor over his tongue, but no sound with it. “The irony is, if I’d had made a bargain with Caym, I could have said my people weren’t to be touched. But I didn’t think of it. Everything I knew about demons could be summed up with: If you enter into a bargain, you’re totally fucked. But it would have saved my people. Even at the cost of my soul, it’d have been worth it.”
    She studied his face, silent, looking through him.
    He took another drink, then said, “I wish you’d been there at the beginning, Rosie. I have no doubt you’d have seen a way out.”
    Her eyes glistened, her face crumpling, and she looked away. “I wish it, too.”
    “Better than being there at the end, anyway.” By that time it had all gone to hell, and nothing could have pulled him out.
    “I watched you slay Caym,” she said. “It was a thousand times more satisfying than watching Michael slay my father.”
    He had to laugh. “So bloodthirsty, yet you look so sweet.”
    She smiled at him, then bit into her crêpe. Filling oozed out the end, and she caught it with her fingers. He couldn’t look away from her mouth as she licked it off.
    “Apostle’s fingers,” she told him, her cheeks coloring. “I made so many. I’ve already given half away to the neighbors and to Father Wojcinski’s church, but I’ll still be eating them for days.”
    He laughed. Overcompensating for something, no doubt. “You can’t save them for the wedding?”
    “They won’t keep.” She grimaced a little. “And they aren’t very good. I’ve never had a talent for cooking.”
    “But you keep trying?” he guessed.
    “To the neighborhood’s dismay, yes.” She seemed to hesitate, then said, “I want you to know—I realize that you think the only reason I needed you to help me is that you’re ruined. And it’s true, that’s why Malkvial believes you. But I have a hard time letting