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Double Down on Demons (Pandora's Pride Book 1)

Page 16

by Annabel Chase


  Good thing we’d followed Natasha’s advice and stashed our weapons in the trunk of the car.

  “Quick question,” I said. “Can you tell me whether there was a poker chip among Canute’s personal effects when he was released?”

  “Not off the top of my head, but I can check while you’re here.”

  “Thanks, I’d appreciate that.”

  We reached the end of a long corridor and another heavy door slid aside. The vampire motioned to the first door on the left. “You’ll find what you’re looking for in there. I’ll wait out here.”

  It was only when I reached for the door handle that I realized my palms were sweaty. It was no surprise that I was anxious. This was the whole reason I came to Atlantica City in the first place. If I got what I wanted, I could finish the mission for the Pride and return to the mountains. To my home.

  Except there was no home.

  I didn’t have a house. My father and I moved locations constantly and always had. For me, home was my dad and now that he was gone…Still, to uncover the truth about his death would give me the peace I sought.

  The room was small and devoid of furniture and natural light. A lone prisoner sat slumped against a concrete wall. He struggled to his feet when we entered and I noticed sets of silver cuffs on his wrists and ankles. Werewolf.

  “Who’re you?” he growled.

  I folded my arms and fixed him with a hard stare. “We’ll ask the questions, thanks.”

  Saxon cast me a sidelong glance. “Does he look familiar?”

  I shook my head, keeping my gaze pinned on the inmate. “What’s your name?”

  He scowled. “Shouldn’t you know that already?”

  I ignored him. “Do you know my name?”

  He tilted his head and looked me over with a lazy grin. “I think I’d remember.”

  “Do you know the name Quinn Wendell?” I asked.

  The werewolf shrugged. “Should I?”

  My hand began to itch with magic. Apparently my insides weren’t happy with my progress out here and wanted to accelerate the matter.

  “Listen, friend. My magic has a tendency to react with what I refer to as a temper tantrum. Trust me when I tell you that you do not want to be on the receiving end of that.”

  Saxon nodded solemnly. “I’ve seen it in action. You really don’t.”

  The werewolf scoffed. “You trying to intimidate me with talk of a temper tantrum? Ha! Try again, missy.”

  “You know what? You’re right. I should show more compassion.” I reached into my pocket and retrieved one of the tarot cards from Lloyd’s lesson. “Do you know what this is?”

  “A pretty lady with an expensive crown.”

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  He answered without hesitation. “Ronnie Banks.” The werewolf’s eyes bulged. “How did you do that? You’re not supposed to be able to use magic in here. It’s classified as a weapon.”

  I took a step closer. “Who’s going to tell?”

  Saxon laughed. “Not the werewolf with his tongue cut out, that’s for sure.”

  “What are you?” he asked in disbelief.

  “Curious and impatient,” I said. “Not the best combo.” I slipped the card into my pocket. “The demon that killed my father wore this chip around his neck.” I removed the item from my front pocket and held it up for inspection.

  Ronnie squinted. “That’s a casino chip.”

  “Very good.” I tucked the chip back into my pocket. I didn’t want to risk having anything around my neck in a prison; it seemed like a tacit request to be strangled. Then again, I was now the proud wearer of a yellow lanyard, so what did I know about prison risks? “Know anything about this specific type of casino chip?”

  Ronnie shook his head. “I’m not much of a gambler. I’d be better off flushing my money down the toilet.”

  “You were cell mates with a demon named Canute. Ever see him with this chip?”

  Ronnie’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “That’s what this is about—Canute? No, I never saw him with a chip. He liked to eat, so I mainly saw him with food.”

  “Something you two have in common,” Saxon said. I twisted to glare at the hybrid before turning back to Ronnie.

  “What can you tell us about him?” I asked.

  “He wasn’t much of a talker,” Ronnie said. “I talk way more than he ever did.”

  “How long…” Saxon began and I immediately cut him off.

  “How long were you cell mates?” I asked.

  “About five years,” Ronnie said.

  “Any issues between you?” I asked.

  “All things considered, no. He kept to himself and didn’t seem too bothered when I rambled, unlike my cell mate before him.” Ronnie rolled his amber eyes. “That guy hated the air I breathed. It was a relief when they finally moved him to another facility. So are you looking for Canute or something?”

  “No, I know where he is.”

  The werewolf frowned. “Then why not ask him your questions?”

  “Because the dead can’t speak,” I said.

  Ronnie’s brow lifted. “You sure?”

  “Pretty sure since I’m the one that killed him.”

  Ronnie didn’t seem broken up by the news. “What’d he do?”

  “He killed innocent people, including my father,” I said, my voice even.

  Ronnie inched away from me. “Any chance I can reclaim my personal space? I know it might seem strange to you, being that I’m in prison and all, but close company makes me uncomfortable.”

  I took a long step backward. Intimidation no longer seemed necessary with The Empress card at work anyway. “Did he ever talk about the murder he committed?”

  “The one that got him sent here? Not really. From the few things he did mention, I got the sense that it was a wrong place, wrong time kind of deal, you know? K’uei demons are known for their tempers.” Ronnie chuckled. “He got in fights over the dumbest shit. I considered it free entertainment.”

  “They’re also hired as thugs and killers. Did he ever mention working for anyone?”

  Ronnie blew a raspberry. “Maybe some K’uei, but I don’t know who would put their faith in a loose cannon like that.”

  “Did he ever talk about his life before prison?”

  Ronnie pulled a face. “Nope. Didn’t seem to have a family or anything. No visitors.”

  “Did he mention his plans for when he got out? Anywhere in particular he intended to go?”

  “Said he was looking forward to fresh air and an all-you-can-eat buffet. That’s about it.”

  Not much help. The demon could’ve gotten that anywhere from Atlantica City to the Rocky Mountains. “Thanks, Ronnie. This went smoother than I expected.” I cocked my head. “I thought I was going to have to rough you up. Maybe pluck a few hairs one by one.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t because I happen to like the scruff I’m rocking right now.”

  I smiled. “I didn’t mean from your face.”

  He winced. “Okay, no need for torture. You put your little magic card to good use and I appreciate that.” He looked from me to Saxon. “Are we done here? Because I have a gym session in ten minutes and if I don’t get there on the dot, I’ll lose the weight bench to that ogre, Phineas. He never changes spots when he’s supposed to and it’s a super-pump arm day for me.”

  I backed away. “We’re done.”

  “I’m sorry about your dad. The world’s been a massive dumpster fire ever since the Plague.” Ronnie tried to thrust out his hand, but the cuffs made it too difficult. “I’d shake your hand, but…”

  “It’s okay. Good luck, Ronnie.”

  When Saxon and I returned to the corridor, we found the vampire reading From Blood Bank to Table: 300 Smoothie Recipes to Inspire Your Palette. At the sight of us, he snapped the book closed and tucked it under his arm. “I assume you’re finished.”

  “Yes, but now I’m hungry,” I said. Curiosity got the better of me and I asked Sax
on one of the questions I’d been dying to know. “Do you like blood?”

  He didn’t appear offended by the question. “I like it on occasion, but I don’t have cravings, except when I’ve been injured. It helps me heal faster.”

  “What’s your other half?” the vampire asked, walking carefully toward the exit. I felt like he might break into a run at any moment.

  “I’m half angel.”

  The vampire halted to gape at him. “Half angel and half vampire? I didn’t even know that was possible.”

  “Yeah, I get that a lot,” Saxon said.

  “Any luck with the personal effects?” I asked.

  The vampire offered a curt nod. “I checked our records and it seems he had only one item in storage upon his release—a red casino chip on a chain.”

  “That must’ve been one special piece of jewelry,” I said. “Twenty years is a long time.”

  The vampire showed off his fangs. “Not for everyone.”

  We arrived back in the lobby where the vampire seemed relieved to take our lanyards. “I hope you got what you came for.”

  “Yes and no.” The wrong place at the wrong time. I already knew the world was unjust, but moments like this confirmed my belief.

  “Thanks for your help,” Saxon said.

  I noticed that the vampire held Saxon’s lanyard with the very tips of his fingers, almost afraid to touch it.

  “Being a hybrid isn’t contagious,” I snapped.

  I stomped out to the car, angry on Saxon’s behalf. “Doesn’t it bother you?”

  He blinked. “What?”

  “His reaction. Like you’re some monster from the Plague.”

  He chuckled. “I don’t think his reaction was that bad.”

  “I was offended and he wasn’t even directing his idiot vibes in my direction.” I slid into the passenger seat next to him and he started the car.

  “How do you feel?” Saxon asked. “I know this can’t be easy for you.”

  I leaned my head against the seat. “Numb.”

  “At least you know for sure. That counts for a lot.”

  I gazed out the window. “I guess. I wish I knew what he was doing in the mountains.”

  “Fresh air, remember?” Saxon said.

  “Maybe I could ask the Pride to look into the chip. There has to be a reason it meant something to him.”

  He stopped the car at a light. “What would be the point?”

  “You heard Ronnie. Canute had a temper. Maybe he wanted supplies and your dad said no. Maybe he scared the travelers and there was a scuffle.”

  “Don’t forget he attacked me too.”

  Saxon released a sigh. “Of course he did. You showed up in the middle of it.”

  I fidgeted with the door handle. “Okay, fine. There would be no point, but I still want to know—just for the sake of it.”

  “Then ask Nita to look into it further.”

  I looked at him askance. “You think she will? Technically, the Pride held up their end of the bargain. I’m the one who has to complete my end of it now.”

  “I bet if you ask nicely.”

  “Right. More like they’ll dangle the information like a carrot and if I’m a good, demon-hunting bunny, they’ll let me have it.”

  He grinned. “A demon-hunting bunny would be phenomenal. I’ve always wanted a sidekick.”

  “That’s what Liam’s for.”

  Saxon chuckled. “Oh man. I can just imagine his face if he heard you say that.”

  “He’s like a whiny teenager in a state of perpetual angst. I’m surprised he doesn’t dress in all black and attend poetry slams.”

  “Angst?” Saxon frowned. “He cracks jokes like Evadne cracks skulls.”

  “That’s to cover his angst,” I said. “Trust me. Liam has an angst issue.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.” As he reached for the gear shift, his hand accidentally brushed against my thigh and he jerked away as if stricken.

  I shifted my leg and pretended not to notice. “Thanks for coming with me. I appreciate the support.”

  “No problem.” He looked at me sideways. “Are you dealing with your emotions? Because we have an on-call therapist that comes to HQ if you feel the need to talk.”

  I thought of Harmony and her kind inquiries. “I’m good, thanks.”

  “It’s not good to clamp down on feelings, you know. It’s healthier to let yourself feel them, good or bad.”

  “Sounds like you speak from experience.”

  His jaw tightened. “When you see a lot of death and destruction, you need a place to vent.”

  “You don’t get used to it?”

  He blew out a breath. “Gods, I hope not. The day I become used to it is the day I become as horrible as the demons I’m hunting.”

  “What’s the worst encounter you’ve had?” I asked.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you want to know?”

  “The way that eyebrow shot up, now I definitely want to know.”

  He flipped the signal for a right turn. “Why don’t we talk about it while we eat?”

  “As long as you don’t mind mentions of blood and gore with your food, which I assume this story includes.”

  His grin widened. “I guess it does and, no, I don’t mind.” He nodded toward the windshield. “See anything out there that looks good?”

  I scanned the options and spotted a sign for a place called Dotty’s with a shiny silver exterior and a neon sign. “I’m a huge diner fan.”

  “Dotty’s it is then.” Saxon pulled into the parking lot.

  The interior reminded me of a place I frequented called Marta’s Grill. There were leather saddles for seats at the counter and the cushions of the booths were covered in cowhide.

  Saxon wagged a finger at me. “I see that spark in your eye. You want the saddle seat, don’t you?”

  “In all honesty, I do, but I think the booth will be more comfortable.”

  “We do have a long drive back. Probably best to keep your butt cushioned.”

  I pinned him with a pointed look. “Are you saying I don’t have enough cushion there?”

  “No, of course not.” He quickly became flummoxed and I resisted the urge to laugh loudly. “I mean, I haven’t looked, so I don’t know.”

  “I can’t decide which is more insulting.” I sauntered to an empty booth and slid into the seat.

  Saxon sat across from me and dragged a hand through his hair. “You’re as bad as Liam when it comes to giving me a hard time.”

  “What about Evadne?” I asked.

  His expression clouded over. “That’s different.”

  “You two dated?”

  He gave an adamant shake of his head. “There’s no dating among the agents, remember?”

  “But she made it sound like…”

  “Evadne likes to cause trouble. That’s all.”

  “So she’s the problem child of the group?”

  “Basically.”

  A server sashayed over with a pencil tucked behind her ear and I had a flashback to Marta’s Grill and our regular server, Helen. The women had the same reddish-brown curls and a smile outlined by bright red lipstick that made them look washed out.

  “What can I get you folks today?”

  “Any specials?” I asked. I almost never ordered one, but I still liked to know what they were.

  “Meatloaf and mashed potato with gravy,” she said. “Tapioca pudding for dessert and I think we’ve got a cherry pie coming out of the oven about now.”

  “Ooh, cherry pie.” That was tempting. Pie was high on my list of preferred carbs.

  “I’ll have the Western omelet without the ham,” Saxon said.

  “You good with water?” the server asked.

  “Make that two waters,” I said. “And I’ll have the blueberry soy short stack. Gods above, I love breakfast for dinner.”

  “Me too,” Saxon said.

  “Good thing or we’d probably be out of business,” the serve
r said. “I’ll be back in a jiffy with your waters.” She walked back to the counter, hips swaying in time to her own personal rhythm.

  “This’ll be the most decadent thing I’ve seen you eat,” I said. “You sure you don’t want to go nuts and get a side of bacon? I won’t judge.”

  Resistance sparked in his eyes. “No meat today,” he said firmly.

  “You sound like me with dairy. I’m lactose intolerant, but I’ll still eat things I shouldn’t on occasion.”

  “I just try to avoid triggers.”

  That got my attention. “Triggers for what?”

  The server returned with our drinks and placed the two glasses on the table. “Food won’t take long. It’s not too busy at this hour.” She disappeared again as quickly as she’d arrived.

  Saxon lowered his voice. “You asked me about blood back in the prison.”

  “Yeah, and you said you don’t crave it.”

  He took a moment to consider his answer. “Hybrids aren’t like regular species. We can sometimes be…volatile.”

  “Um, okay. That sounds ominous.” I raised my glass to my lips and sipped as I kept a curious gaze on the ‘volatile’ vampire-angel within arm’s reach of me.

  “Imagine you’ve got all this power built on top of a shaky foundation,” he continued. “Occasionally there are tremors. Cracks form.”

  “Now you sound like the walking, talking version of the Plague.”

  A hint of a smile touched his extremely kissable-looking lips. “Sometimes I lose control. Too much blood. Too bad of an injury that I need to heal. When I use too much of one side of me, it throws me off balance.”

  My pulse sped up at the thought of an out-of-control Saxon. Suffice it to say, my mental image involved the two of us in an elevator stopped between floors, which probably wasn’t the type of out-of-control scenario he meant.

  “And what happens then?” I prompted.

  He drank half the water in his glass before speaking. “Depends on the situation.”

  “If you go too far angel, what happens?” I was guessing it wasn’t the Halo Effect.

  “Nothing good,” he said vaguely.

  The server returned with our meals and set the plates in front of us. “Anything else?”

  “Not right now, thanks,” I said.

  She quickly moved on to the next table to take their order. There was nothing in the world as efficient as diner service.

 

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