Deliverance Read Online Free Page B

got in bed and pulled fresh, cool sheets up to her neck.
    I’d rather be out there with Hound. No, scratch that. I wouldn’t want to hurt Glass. This “good girl” business doesn’t come easily.
    She sighed into the darkness. Good girls sleep alone. Where’s Jake when I need him?
    Just before falling asleep, she remembered the box that Chick had given her. She retrieved the box, got a knife, and cut its well-taped edges. Inside was Arnie Henshaw’s service cap, with the shiny black brim. There was blood, lots of it. Her eyes fastened on the note pinned to it: The first one rests in peace. Or is that pieces?
    She slipped on a robe and called Hound into her bedroom.
    “Change your mind?” he said. “You’re not wearing anything under that. . . .”
    “Oh, shut up. Arnie’s dead.”
    She held out the box with the cap. He took it from her and examined everything, including the note.
    “Nothing like a murder to spoil the mood,” he said.
    “It’s terrible. Why send this to me when it’s too late for me to do anything to help Arnie?”
    “Fuck. I guess Arnie was considered expendable to send you a message.”
    “That’s what I think too. But what’s the message?”

Chapter Three
     
    I t was hours later that Maliha made it back to bed, after she and Hound put together a plan to investigate Arnie’s death. She tried to set aside the sad event and instead started thinking of Jake. She pulled his pillow over and hugged it, thinking she could at least imagine his presence. A vague scent of her Ageless lover remained on the pillow, and she drew in a deep breath to hold it inside her. It was comforting and drew her thoughts further from Arnie’s seemingly senseless death.
    Jake Stackman was an immortal assassin beholden to the demon Idiptu, but he claimed that Idiptu had long ago lost interest in giving Jake assignments. That contrasted sharply with Maliha’s demon, Rabishu. In Jake’s case, he had no reason to rebel, since he had all the advantages of being Ageless without a demon interfering in his life. She talked to Jake about it, and he made it clear that he wasn’t going to walk the mortal path with her for the sake of some point of ethics. He enjoyed his immortality, great speed, and nearly instantaneous healing, and he argued that he might be of more use to her in her quest with his abilities intact. She had to admit there was logic to that.
    Since when has logic been an element of love? Or am I so out of practice I don’t even recognize love anymore?
    Maliha had been married once, over three hundred years ago in the American colonies. Then she’d been accused of witchery and treason, and given the special punishment of being burned at the stake. In the Salem witch hysteria, witches were hung, but in her case, she was also accused of planning to kill her husband to use his blood in her heinous practices. Lies, all of it. But the townspeople, her good friends, and even her husband turned against her in a trial during which she was gagged to prevent her from uttering curses.
    Tied to the stake with the fire snapping at her toes, a demon’s offer of immortality was too good to resist. After that, she’d taken up the Ageless way of life, killing on demand, gathering wealth, and enjoying sex on her whim and her terms with men, from kings and sheiks to the blacksmith who shod her horse. If her partner grew too attached, she moved on. Lasting love wasn’t in her behavioral repertoire.
    After rejecting the demon’s control, Maliha became a mortal with benefits. It took her fifty years to learn how to reach out in friendship. Falling in love with a man was a lot harder.
    Not so much the falling part, just the trusting part. I love Jake, at least I think I do. But . . . there’s always some worry in the way. He still kills, according to his moral code, which he won’t clearly explain. He won’t give up immortality—isn’t that selfish? There are things he won’t talk about, and all he’ll say is