Demon's Kiss by V. J. Devereaux Page B

him.
    The car turned from the highway onto a dirt road.
    Already Asmodeus could feel something amiss and then he saw
the gout of flame rise up from a pipe just as the trees gave way to a great
open area filled with machinery, more pipes and equipment.
    It was devastation, the trees had been cut down in great
swaths, the puddles gave off rainbow shimmers, the soil was blackened and
churned. He almost shuddered at the sense of violation of the earth. He didn’t
know what this was, but it was wrong.
    All the car doors were flung open. All but one.
    The driver hopped out of the car and opened the door for
Templeton.
    Everyone else stepped out of the car nearly simultaneously.
His three guards and the man with the Book .
    An anxious little man wearing an ill-fitting suit hurried to
meet them, his eyes frantic and worried.
    “Mr. Templeton…sir…uh,” the man said, swallowing nervously,
“perhaps this might not be the best time to visit.”
    The little man glanced at Asmodeus and his eyes widened just
a little. Asmodeus could smell the fear on him as the man’s gaze returned to
Templeton, and the man visibly cringed.
    One eyebrow arched at the temerity, Templeton’s expression
grew thunderous, further cowing the man. Templeton’s jaw worked.
    “Isn’t it, Mr. Kenyon?” he said, his tone icy.
    If the man hadn’t been frightened before, he certainly was
then.
    “Mr. Templeton,” Kenyon stammered, “we have a problem.”
    His tone almost too even, Templeton said, “A problem.”
    The little man nodded frantically. “Yes.”
    His voice dropped to a near whisper as he glanced across the
compound at a man wearing plastic coveralls over his suit. The man had a
clipboard in his hand.
    “The government inspector is here. He wants a list of the
chemicals we’re using. There’s been complaints.”
    “Complaints?” Templeton repeated, following Kenyon’s glance.
    “About the water.”
    “You have assured him we’re in compliance?”
    Templeton’s glance was a warning to Kenyon.
    The man’s eyes darted around but he licked his lips and
nodded. “Yes, Mr. Templeton. Of course.”
    It was clear that he was lying, maintaining the fiction that
Templeton demanded.
    “Hmmmm,” Templeton said, eyeing the stranger with distaste.
“I’ll take care of this, Mr. Kenyon.”
    He waved Kenyon off but his eyes were on the man inspecting
the site.
    A cold chill ran over Asmodeus, his veins seemed to fill
with ice water as a sense of foreboding went through him. He knew Templeton’s
mind by now. This did not bode well.
    He thought of Gabriel, waiting. His heart wrenched at the
thought of her but there was nothing to be done except to let it play out. And
accept the consequences.
    Templeton turned to him, his black eyes flat.
    “Kill him,” he said. “Make it look like a heart attack, make
it look like an accident, I don’t care, but I want him dead.”
    Asmodeus took a deep breath but inwardly he was calm. It was
as he had told Gabriel—he would not kill. Not in cold blood. And certainly not
a man innocent of anything except trying to do his job, trying to protect
others.
    He met that flat black gaze evenly.
    There would be hell to pay for this, true hell, but he would
pay it. Templeton wouldn’t kill him, he hoped. At least, not on purpose.
    In the end, it didn’t matter. There was only one answer.
    “No.”
    It was as if they had all been plunged into an ice-cold
lake. Silence seemed to surround them in the midst of that great noisy place
with its foul smells and roaring flame.
    All of that faded.
    Every eye was on him.
    None of that mattered. Asmodeus met Templeton’s gaze without
flinching.
    “I said,” Templeton repeated, his gaze fixed on Asmodeus,
“kill him. I want him dead.”
    Asmodeus looked at him, saw the madness in his eyes. He knew
the punishment for refusing would be far harsher than it had been for cloaking
himself and Gabriel in smoke.
    In his mind’s eye he could see her. She was so