A small smile formed on his lips. “Neither.”
“I ought to warn you. I’m in no mood to deal with anyone’s shit. So if you’re looking for a fight, you best be ready to throw down like you mean it.”
“You sound just like another meathead I know. He prefers to talk with his fists too.”
“Sometimes that’s the only way to talk.”
Phoenix cocked his head. “Fascinating point of view. Me? I prefer to negotiate with words rather than brute strength.”
“Sounds like something a man says when he knows he’ll lose.”
His jaw tightened. “What is it with those Nephilim and anyone who knows them having such smart-ass mouths? It’s quite annoying.”
“Know what’s annoying? This conversation. Either tell me what you want, or get the hell out of my way.”
“So you can do what? Wallow in your pitiful human existence for the rest of the night?” Phoenix stepped toward me. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but his eyes looked bloodred for a second. “Nightmares still haunt you, don’t they? The screams of your men as they were torn apart?”
The air froze in my lungs. “How do you know about that?”
“I have my ways.” His smile widened a fraction. “Mason Hawk, sharpshooter. One of only two survivors from Blade-22. The other Marine is dead now, of course. He took his own life a year after the ghoul attack. I’m sure the guilt eats you alive, doesn’t it? You couldn’t save any of them.”
My hand clamped around the hilt of my knife, and I swung it at him. What was scary? I hadn’t even meant to. My body had moved automatically.
Phoenix vanished right before my blade made contact. He reappeared several feet away, dusting off the sleeve of his jacket. Very few beings could disappear like that. He had to be a demon. “So much rage inside of you, Marine. Pain too. I can help with that.”
“I don’t need your goddamn help.” I swung at him again.
And again, he easily dodged me.
He materialized farther away. Smart. “I beg to differ. When was the last time you slept through the night without screaming yourself awake?”
My gut churned, and my hand shook. “Why would you help me?”
“I was hoping you could help me in return.” Phoenix casually leaned against the wall, leg propped on the brick behind him. “You met Nephilim recently, yes?”
I only stared at him.
“No sense in denying it. I smell Sloth all over you. Days later, and his scent is still so strong. He must really like you.”
Sloth?
“To cut right to the chase, we’re at war with them.” Phoenix flicked his hand. “The whole good versus evil conflict, I know, but bear with me.”
Good versus evil? A war?
“I’m listening.” Not much else I could do. Plus, I was intrigued.
“Good boy,” Phoenix said with a smirk. It grated on my damn nerves. “The Nephilim brothers are doing all they can to win this war, but they’re only delaying the inevitable. Quite frankly, this whole ordeal is giving me a headache. My proposition is this: be my inside man. Or, in terms you might understand better, infiltrate the enemy ranks and report back to me. Not to harm them… yet… but to give me information. I want to know what actions they plan to take, who they speak to, and any weaknesses if you can find them.”
A sharp laugh left me. “You want me to be a spy? For you?”
“For my boss actually.” He examined his nails. “I’m only the middleman.”
“You do know I kill your kind, right? Why would Ieveragree to this?”
“Because I can help you forget. Well, one of my bosses can. He has the power to tinker with your thoughts and take away those pesky memories. You’ll finally be free of them.”
“What do you mean?”