Sure, okay. Like I said, nothing was going to ruin my almost-home good mood. Not even an egotistical itchy demon. But there was something different about Iktan tonight—something I couldn’t name. “Come on,” I said. “Let’s go find this godborn.”
“I still don’t understand why we’ve had to go to all this trouble for a few pathetic half-breeds,” she grumbled, falling into step with me. “And please do not bore me again by telling me about your vow to Ixtab.”
I’d promised the queen of the underworld that I would find all the remaining godborn children who were still out there. They deserved to know the truth about who they really were.
“Let’s hurry up and get this over with,” Ik went on. She might have looked like a little kid, but she sounded like a mean army sergeant. “You know the drill. We establish visual contact, assess the situation, then—”
“I make my move.”
“I was going to say ‘go in for the kill.’”
“Enough with the kill stuff, okay?”
“Such a killjoy,” she muttered before asking, “So, do you feel anything?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Nausea from your death gateway.”
“Focus harder! You never see me taking this long to do my job,” she whined. “Like I said, superior.”
Her only job was to track the godborns. The rest was up to me.
And my blood.
That’s right. I’d had to make a deposit (half a pint, to be exact) into the craptastic Blood Bank of Ik, so she could learn the “stink” we godborns share. Ever since she’d sniffed my blood from a cup, she could pick up a godborn’s odor from miles away. Demons don’t have very sensitive noses (unless their prey is right in front of them, like the cat); instead, they have these little scent receptors that pop out of their necks (it’s way beyond gross) like tentacles. Iktan could follow a single godborn trail, laid down more than forty-eight hours before, even in a crowd as big as ten thousand.
But Ixtab, being a meticulous goddess, had added an extra layer of security. Ik could only get me within half a mile of the godborn before the demon would lose the trace. I had to do the rest, using what I call my GPS—godborn positioning system. Whenever I got close to a godborn, I’d feel this kind of cold pull in my gut. I experienced it for the first time when my bruja friend, Ren, washed up on the shore of Holbox. Since then, all my time on the road had only made my skill stronger. Or, as Ixtab said, fine-tuned.
“It’s this way,” I said, leading Ik out of the alley and around the corner. The neighborhood was pretty sketchy at this time of night, with drunks staggering around, lost-looking tourists rolling their suitcases behind them, and a few homeless people hunkering down in shuttered doorways.
Ik looked around. “So where is the little beast?”
I turned in a slow circle, waiting for the connection to grow, to tell me which direction to take, but it was like something was jamming the frequency.
Or someone.
“Well?” Ik barked.
“Could you be quiet? I’m concentrating.” The signal was weak, but I cut right and headed down West Forty-Sixth Street. Stopping midway down the block, I turned around. “You’re sure this is the right area?”
Ik pressed her lips together like a curse word was wedged in the corner of her mouth. “Listen, Fire Boy, demons have the most sophisticated tracking ability in the universe, and all you godborns have the same stinky blood.” Dozens of three-inch blue spikes popped out of her neck, wiggling like worms on a hook. “We must be getting real close now, ’cause I’m comin’ up empty.”
“Could you not do that whole creepy tentacle thing in public?” Chills ran up my spine.
“Someone sounds jealousss,” she hissed, stretching the last s for way too long.
“Uh-huh. I’ve already done this sixty-three times,” I reminded her, scanning the street.
Ik rubbed her forehead impatiently. “Then be the pro you think you are and find the mutt.”
Long, lean shadows stretched across the asphalt. A cab rolled by slowly. Lights blinked off in the apartments above.
A slow-burn fire began to rise in my blood. “Something isn’t right.”
“I have an idea,” Ik said semi-brightly. “Let’s go over what you’re going to say. Loosen you up.”
“No thanks.” I kept moving.
“Do you just walk up to the godborns and say, ‘Hey, you’re part Maya god. Come with me or else’?”