by Rory Miles
He shrugs. “Honestly, until this very moment I’ve never thought about it.”
Glancing at my phone, I see it’s now 7:43 PM. Ten minutes until we move out. Plenty of time for this discussion.
“You’ve honestly never wondered why you feel so strongly about half-breeds? What would you have said if we had a child?”
He’s looking increasingly uncomfortable, but I’m not ready to let it go.
“Would you disown her?”
“If we were to have a child, who says it would be a female?”
I snort and roll my eyes. “She would be. Now, stop avoiding the question.” I pick up the now-empty toothpick and roll it between my fingers.
“I. . . I guess I don’t know. Of course I wouldn’t shun her,” he adds quickly when I glare at him, “but, certain precautions would need to be taken to protect her from those who would seek to harm her.”
“No one would lay a finger on her.” The toothpick snaps. “They’d be foolish to try.”
He picks up a broken piece of toothpick and holds it in front of my face. “Our hypothetical baby is really getting to you.”
I swat the wood away from my face and drink the rest of my martini. The bartender sees my raised glass and immediately starts mixing the next one. It’s such a shame I can’t get drunk off of gin.
Draven laughs, his dimples flash as he sets his second glass of wine on the bar top and stares at me. “It’s your period!”
“I’d consider your next words very carefully.” I’ve already come to the same conclusion he has: my period is making me very irritable and the lack of sex isn’t helping. Devil, it’s been what, a day or two since I last got laid?
He mocks zipping his lips, and taps his fingers against his chin.
“Thank you,” I say to the bartender, then to Draven, “I really hate my period.”
Smirking, he bumps my shoulder with his. “It’s kind of cute. You got so upset about our baby.”
“Shut up,” I growl at him because I’m still a little irritated about his half-breed comments. “We’ve got two minutes.”
He smiles at me, but thankfully doesn’t say anything else about my angry baby rage. “Bottoms up, mama.”
Glaring at him over my glass, I drink down my martini like he did his silly little grape juice. Devil below, I’m a brat. Such a snot. Grape wine, baby rage. Ugh, I hate my period so hard.
“Time to move,” Draven says as he drops a fifty-dollar bill on the bar top. Plenty of money to cover the drinks and tip. Good fae, not shorting the human just because he can. Perhaps there is hope for him yet.
“Right, let’s go save Naomi.”
When we step onto the sidewalk outside our hotel, loud carnival-type music sounds from the one where Carnivea’s meeting is being held. Demons can be heard shouting and cheering on whatever act is currently on stage. A few performers clad in feathers and bright red and orange costumes are smoking cigarettes outside of the hotel and laughing. They’re too distracted to notice us sneaking through the small metal door at the side of the building.
Walking through a hall with sparse lighting, we make our way toward the roar of the crowds and what should be backstage. The head of the setup crew drew a rough map of the building’s inside after a hefty dose of allure earlier this afternoon. Knowing Levia wouldn’t risk leaving Naomi alone, and that Carnivea loves a good show, I felt certain we’d find my friend back here.
What sorts of tricks they have planned for her are probably humiliating, and if Naomi had enough power, she’d fight it. Given that she’s been missing for a while and has already no doubt faced off with Levia, she won’t have enough to overpower Carnivea, her three betrothed jinni, and Levia.
The hall comes to a fork, and we head left, avoiding backstage and heading to the dressing and storage rooms. Draven cast us in shadows, so the few people we pass can’t tell the difference between us and the real, empty darkness.
“Levia,” I whisper to Draven and point at the name on dressing room one.
He nods and pushes me toward the storage room across the hall. Once I shut the door, he flips on the switch to the overhead lights. After blinking a few times to adjust to the harsh light, the dots in my vision begin to fade and I see several cages full of different demons.
A low born demon male with snake eyes trembles as I stare at him. Two female vampires, also low born, keep their eyes averted. They aren’t shaking, but their shoulders hunch. Defeated. Both of them are. The male’s cage is stacked atop the women’s and blocks most of my view, but I can see the edges of another from where I stand.
Almost instinctively I know who will be in the last one. Draven stands guard, ear pressed to the door, and I skirt around the three cages.
“Naomi,” I whisper, trying to rouse her. She murmurs as she sits, but her eyes are half-closed and she isn’t hearing me. She must be drugged. Crouching down and pressing my face to the metal bars, I lightly smack the cage. “Naomi, wake up.”
She still doesn’t stir, and I purse my lips while I search for the lock. I feel the weight of the vampire’s stares on me, but when I glance over at them, they’re looking down at the floor.
“Either of you know how to open this?”
The snake demon lets out a weird noise that has me worrying he’s about to piss his pants. But the female with tawny brown hair meets my gaze. The dark circles under her eyes tell me it’s been a rough go for her.
“Only the blood of the Creator’s children can open it.”
Draven grunts. “Well, that sucks, how are we going to get that?”
Ignoring him, I reach for the small knife in my boots and quickly slash my palm.
“Shera, what are you doing?”
“Shera?” the other female asks suddenly. “The Shera?”
The metal vibrates under my palm and after a few seconds a latch appears. I open the cage and pull Naomi into my arms. She’s all dead weight with the drugs, and when I smack her, she doesn’t even call me a bitch.
“Shit, what did they give her?” I ask, speaking more to myself than anyone else, but the first vampire says, “Fae tranqs.”
“Fuck.” Draven’s curse has me really worried. If he’s concerned, that means I should be.
“We have to get her out of here before we get caught.”
“I’ll carry her, let’s go.”
I push her up the best I can, and stand once Draven lifts her weight off of me. The small cut is still bleeding, so I press it to the snake demon’s cage. He flinches and scuttles away, shielding his face from a hit that won’t come.
When I open his door, he peeks around his palms and hisses at me. The female with brown hair scoffs.
“He’s broken.”
I frown at her. “We’re all a little broken. Some people are just better at hiding it.”
She narrows her eyes at me, but doesn’t say anything else. She’s still hoping I’ll let her out. Which, I guess I should.
“If I let you out, you better not bite me. I’ll drop your ass quicker than Taylor Swift dropped her last boyfriend.”
“I think it was the other way around,” Draven offers unhelpfully. I shoot him a look, deciding to revisit him knowing about Taylor Swift’s relationships at a better time.
Once they’re out, they stand awkwardly in front of me. “Now what?”
I shrug. “Master gave Dobby a sock.”
Draven laughs. “Great Mother Faerie, why on Earth do you know that reference?”
“Excuse me, Harry Potter is the shit and obviously you know it too. Now, chop, chop. We’ve got some escaping to do.”
Draven opens the door a tad, checking to make sure the hall is clear. When he glances back, he asks, “Ready?”
“Let’s do this,” I say and pull up those shadows I feel deep in my soul. The vampires squeak, despite how badass they’re pretending to be, but relax once they realize they aren’t being hurt.
The snake demon hisses again, but makes no move to leave his cage.
; “Last chance,” I tell him.
He curls into himself and glances away. I know that look. He’s already given up.
“All right. Don’t let them break you. What are your names?”
The tawny-haired vampire answers me. “I’m Victoria and this is Amelia.”
“I’m Shera, but you already knew that.” I’m rambling. “Well, are you ready?”
“Yes,” they say at the same time, smiling at one another.
Turning back to Draven, I nod that I’m ready. He adjusts Naomi, whose head has lolled to the side, and grips her legs a bit tighter. When his shadows fully cover his face, I allow mine to do the same.
“Stay close to the walls and don’t talk,” I whisper to the vamps. It’s been easy so far, but I sincerely doubt we’ll make it out of this building unscathed. At least the vamps are hungry.
Chapter Nineteen
Everything was fine until the snake demon bit Victoria’s ass. I guess he decided to come with after all.
“Mother fucking bitch ass snake demon get your filthy mouth off of my ass!” Vicki shouts as she smacks his forehead. The demon just bites down harder and shakes his head like a dog with a chew toy.
Amelia is covering her mouth but the crinkled edges of her eyes tell me she’s trying not to laugh. I can’t see through Draven’s shadows, but I feel him close by.
“Oy! Who’s there?” someone calls from the hallway.
“Get this fucking dick off of me before I get an infection.”
Vicki’s glaring at me like I’m supposed to know how to get the creature off of her. His eyes are dilated, and his breath hisses between teeth that are firmly sunk into her ass. Damn, that’s a lot of cheek.
“I said, who’s there?” The voice is closer now.
I hurry to Vicki and swat at the snake demon’s face. “Bad snake.”
Amelia loses it and snorts loudly.
“This isn’t funny, you bitch!” Vicki screeches at Amelia while her fangs descend.
I swat at her arm. “Bad vampire. Devil, is it too much to ask for a fucking break?” I ask the question to myself because Vicki is leaning down to bite the snake demon and clearly isn’t listening. “No, don’t fucking bite him too!”
Amelia is bent over, clutching her stomach and I’m worried she’s on the verge of hysteria.
“What the fuck kind of kinky shit is going on here?”
Shit. Somewhere during all the craziness, I dropped my shadows.
Before the human can even click the button on his walkie-talkie, Draven’s in front of him, sans shadows and Naomi. The guard’s eyes bulge as he chokes him out. The guy tries to shout but a dark wisp of air spirals down his throat, stifling the noise. With the guard taken care of, I turn back to Vicki and the snake demon.
“Listen, I really hate to do this but you leave me no choice.”
The edges of my vision tinge red as I direct my allure at them. The vampire’s gaze snaps to me, the points of her fangs glisten in the light and she smiles like she’s spotted her next meal. Shit, I forgot that she’s starving.
The snake demon releases her ass just as she starts to move toward me. Really? Now he releases her ass? He’s pumped full of allure and he lets her juicy glutei just walk away like it’s no big deal.
Before she can sink her teeth into me, I smack her so hard she crashes into the wall and falls to the floor unconscious.
“Is this thing broken?” I ask Draven, who’s come to stand next to me, and point at my face.
He takes a deep inhalation and runs a hand down my back and yanks me close.
“Guess not.”
The snake demon hisses at me. I level a glare at him. “I’ve had about enough of your shit for one day. Either control yourself, or I’ll put you back in that cage. Got it?”
The hissing stops and he nods once.
“Good boy.” I pull up my glamour and glance at Amelia. “Are you going to be all right?”
She’s gasping for breath between snorts and giggles.
Vicki stands, rubs her head and narrows her eyes at me. “That wasn’t necessary.”
“It was. Trust me. We’ll find you something to eat once we make it out of here.”
Draven’s shadows suddenly cover us all.
“Oh, Belias, you’re hilarious.” Levia’s voice reaches my ears like nails on a chalkboard.
The vampires and snake demon freeze. Draven lifts Naomi off the floor and hoists her on his shoulder. I brace for a fight. They turn down the hall we’re in, stopping when they see the guard unconscious on the floor.
“Humans,” Levia says, toeing the guy’s arm, “so fragile.”
Belias says, “Let’s have some fun.”
He picks up the guard and carries him into her dressing room. She claps her hands and runs after him, slamming the door closed behind her and flipping the lock.
No one says a word. Draven clicks his tongue lightly, snapping the three we’ve rescued out of their stupor. We follow him in a single file line. I bring up the rear, being the best equipped to fight emotionally and power wise. We don’t run into anyone else, but the roar of the crowd from the hotel’s auditorium sets my teeth on edge.
Very little separates us from discovery. All it would take is one person walking off stage. When we reach the same door we entered from, Draven stops and checks outside.
“All clear,” he whispers, dropping the shadows covering us. He and the snake demon go out first.
Amelia rushes after them and Vicki follows next with a slight limp. The venom from the snake’s bite makes her slower to heal, but she’s probably nearly healed by this point. She’ll just have a little lingering butt pain. I’m taking the step to go out the door when I hear Carnivea shout my name, voice full of surprise.
“Shera! Devil, I didn’t think you’d make it!”
Draven’s eyes widen and he gestures wildly for me to come on. I glance at the three demons I’ve helped escape, and the unconscious succubus on his shoulder. I mouth the word go, before slamming the door shut on their faces.
“Hello, darling,” I say to the obscenely dressed duchess. Her white-blond hair is curled and pinned up. The red corset top and black frilly skirt are revealing in all the right places and the thigh-holster and tiny hat on top of a headband make her look like a steampunk show girl. The look is odd, but 100% Carnivea.
“Levia said she didn’t get a chance to invite you!”
Ah. That’s why the princess wanted to have lunch with me.
I spread my hands in front of me. “Well, here I am, did I miss much?”
She giggles and prances over to me. “The best is yet to come.”
With her little toys freshly escaped, I very much doubt the best is yet to come. No reason to spoil her fun, though; at least not yet.
She leads me to the VIP area right in front of the stage. The large lounge-style room is lit with red lights in overhead chandeliers; red and white drapes hang over the walls in a circus tent pattern. There are tables and chairs, but there are also lounging pillows. A few of those hold couples getting it on without shame or care of who is watching them.
Carnivea sits on a purple beanbag-shaped pillow; I take the red one next to her, crossing my legs and leaning toward her.
“What comes next?” I whisper, pretending to enjoy my time here.
I can’t see Anakin and Micah, but I sense their unique essence in the room. It takes a great deal of will power to keep myself from searching for them. I’m fully covert at the moment; Carnivea can’t sense my longing for them, especially not if she made them leave me for ten years.
She giggles and claps her hands. “You’ll see.”
The bright lights pointed at the stage fade, drawing everyone’s attention from their conversations to the next act. Three stagehands, all dressed in black pants and shirts, push out a large chair on wheels, a small box—similar to that of Lucifer’s—and the third sets down a small wooden platform.
Once they dash off the stage, one of Carnivea’s love
rs struts out with his arms spread in front of him.
“It was once said that dancing can heal all things. Tonight, we test that theory!”
Liko, I think that’s his name, stops in front of the box. His fingers trace a pattern over the top to unlock it. When the lid pops open, a voice full of fire shouts at him.
“Demon filth, you will regret this.”
A small figure with vibrant violet hair jumps out of the box, foot aimed at Liko’s face. He chuckles and dodges her before yanking on a chain connected to the iron shackles around her wrist.
For a panicked second I think it’s Sewyn, but once I see her face, I realize it’s a different sylph. This little fae female has stronger facial features and looks about a whole foot taller, but her skin is translucent just like Sewyn’s.
The crowd is hooting and hollering as the tiny fae tries to fight against Liko’s restraints. The iron cuffs dampen her connection to Mother Faerie and prevent her from making any real progress in her attempted escape.
Liko beams out at the audience. “Shall we try some therapeutic dance?”
The knife appears out of thin air and before I blink, he’s slammed it into her arm. The cry she emits is filled with pain and she stops fighting for a moment, yanking out the blade with her good arm and flinging it back at Liko. He catches the blade between his palms, stopping it inches from his nose, and places it back in the sheath attached to his belt.
“She’s feisty!” Yanking on the chain so that she has no choice but to stumble after him, he drags her over to the smaller platform the stagehand brought out.
An Irish folk-type song starts to play, causing a few snorts from the audience, and a stagehand tosses him a metal whip.
Any guesses to what kind of metal? Yeah, iron.
He catches it with practiced ease, and swings it around a few times before snapping it at her ankles.
“You know what to do, little one.”
The sylph bares her teeth at him. “No,” she hisses the word at him and his smile falls. I guess this isn’t part of the act.