by Leia Stone
“Buy them how?” I could see he was frustrated with all my questions, but I just couldn’t ride off into the night without more answers.
“The archangels funnel us every extra penny they have, and we buy them as if we were potential slave owners.”
My throat tightened with emotion. Michael. Raph. They were damn good men and I’d miss them. I should have known they were behind this.
The sirens were closer now.
General Stiger clapped us both on the shoulder, drawing us closer. “The resistance is nothing without you. Thank you for your service on behalf of every family that will be reunited with their child, or sibling, or spouse.”
My heart pinched, and I gave a curt nod before grabbing Catia’s bag, and strapping it to the back of the bike.
Stiger looked at Catia. “Cover his tattoos and make him potions. He’s going in as a mage.”
She nodded, and then the general was running off into the dark night. I’d probably never see him again.
“Let me see your Celestial tattoo.” Her voice was hurried.
“I have two,” I told her, pulling up my sleeves to reveal Raphael and Michael’s symbols on my forearms.
Her eyes widened a bit. “I’ve never heard of more than one.”
I chuckled. “Brielle had four—has,” I quickly corrected myself.
Catia frowned, sympathy rolling across her features as she worked her magic, covering one of my tattoos, and turning the other into a death mark—marking me a black mage. When she was done, she pulled a small green liquid vial from her purse. “Drink this and it will give you the ability to do basic magic for about twenty-four hours. I’ll make you one every day.”
Whoa. Catia was clearly a powerful mage to be able to do that kind of spell craft. Popping the lid off, I chugged the bitter liquid in one swig.
“Alright, let’s do this. I’m going to drive us right up to the guard gate,” I told her.
“Wait.” Her hand snaked out to me. “If we’re going to have to act like a couple, it means eventually we will have to kiss. I’d rather do a practice run now while we’re alone. I’ve … never kissed a guy before.”
I wanted to laugh but it wasn’t funny. It was sad. Sad that neither of us wanted to kiss each other, but would need to in order to survive going undercover.
I just nodded, grabbing the sides of her face and moving closer. My heart jackknifed in my chest. The only lips I ever wanted on mine were Brielle’s. She was the last person I’d kissed, and the only one I wanted to kiss again.
Catia was wincing as if I was about to inflict pain on her.
“No tongue,” I told her.
Her eyes snapped open, horrified. “Obviously. Gross.”
That got a grin out of me, I’d never had a problem kissing girls before today.
Making it quick, I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers—like I would kiss my little sister before she went off to kindergarten class. After holding there for three seconds, to make it seem legit, I pulled away.
Catia’s face was scrunched up like she’d just had the worst kiss of her life. “You need to shave.” She wiped her lips. “Women are so much softer.”
I chuckled, thinking of how much Brielle liked my scruff, and how she would run her fingers along my jaw.
“I’ll try to be more soft in our time together.”
It was her turn to grin now. “Thank you.”
Reaching in my pocket, I pulled out my cell phone, the last item that would link me to my old life, and turned it on swiftly.
There were over a dozen texts and calls from Noah. Even one from Raph. I couldn’t bear to read them, so I just looked at my new ID papers and texted Noah a quick message before breaking my phone, and tossing it in the trash.
Lincoln: I’m sorry we fought. I love you man. My name is Tray Fox now.
I didn’t know why I told him my new name. Maybe on some level I wanted him to come and look for me, to save me from myself. But I also wanted to mend things in case I never saw him again. And with that, we got on the motorcycle and made our way into the most dangerous city on Earth.
Chapter Nine
There was a two-hour line at the border. When we finally got to the front, and I showed them my papers declaring I wanted citizenship, they separated Catia and I and put us in rooms for questioning. They asked a hundred average questions at first, but now they were starting to ask questions that made me nervous.
“If I gave you a truth potion, would you still be telling me you’re not from Angel City?” the glum beefy guard asked.
My heart rate spiked, but I kept my face calm. “Of course, man. I’m just trying to find work so I can give my girl a better life.”
His eyes narrowed to slits. “And you say you’re a mage?”
I nodded. “Not a great one, but I’m sure I could find work in the city.”
“What kind of work are you looking for?” This man was some kind of demon blessed and I couldn’t put my finger on what. Maybe beast shifter.
My shoulder’s rose with a shrug. “Whatever, man. Bartending, security, I’m not picky.”
The man stared at me for a good minute, before going to the back of the room, and returning with a small vial. Suspended within the vial was a creamy green fluid.
“Drink this. It will strip you of any potions you may have taken to fake your powers. Then I want you to demonstrate your mage power for me.”
Shit.
They know.
“Potions to fake powers?” My voice was slightly high pitched. “That’s cool. Can people really do that?” I reached out for what he was holding, trying to sound like an awestruck teenager as I grasped my hand around the vial. Really, I was nearly pissing myself, thinking of my exit route.
The guard looked down his nose at me. “We’ve had angel blessed trying to worm their way into our city to spread their cheery bullshit. They’re faking their powers to get in, so we’ve devised a foolproof plan against that.”
“Cool. Smart thinking.” I answered with a nod.
Oh God, I had to drink it. He was guarding the doorway, and there was no way around it.
I put the stuff to my lips and tipped my head back, taking it down in one big swallow. It burned like hell down my throat, but I wasn’t sure if that was a reaction to breaking Catia’s spell, so I tried to school my features to be calm.
The man was watching me closely. “Taste good?”
It must have been a test, so to play it safe I just shrugged. “I’m a pretty horrible mage, but what do you want me to do? I’ll try my best.”
Maybe he’d allow me to stand. Then I could overpower him in a fight. Instead, he pulled a domino out of his pocket, and placed it at the end of the table.
“Knock this over with your magic,” he stated with a smug grin.
It was I who grinned, because that was something I could do with my Celestial magic. The color would be different, but I could try to explain that away if he asked. Opening my palms facing out, I aimed them at the domino that was about three feet away from me. Then, I closed my eyes and took a few cleansing breaths.
“Today, kid, I got a hundred cases like yours.”
My eyes popped open, and I shot out with my healing light, sending out an arc of golden magic that knocked the domino off the table. It slid across the floor.
The guard’s eyes popped open in surprise. “Gold mage magic?”
I tried to look bemused. “Yeah, kind of an embarrassment to the family.”
The guard opened his mouth to speak when the door burst open. “We got an angel blessed in the next room! This guy cleared? It’s all hands on deck.”
My breath came out in ragged gasps. An angel blessed? Here? Right now? For a sick moment I thought maybe Noah had followed me here and it was him, but I knew he wouldn’t leave Shea.
The guard took one look at me through those hard, slitted eyes. “Yeah, he’s clear. Give him and his girlfriend temporary housing for a week.”
Temporary housing was cod
e for spy on Catia and I for a week.
The other guard nodded and that was it.
We were in. Holy shit.
The next seven days were a mixture of hilarious, awkward, and scary. Catia and I had to live like a ‘normal’ couple. Seeing as though we didn’t really know each other, that proved extremely awkward. We couldn’t ask each other things, trying to get to know the other person better, for fear it would tip off whoever was listening. So we just talked about weather, how I would find work, and played zombie shooting video games, at which Catia was very good.
At night, every few days we pretended to have sex. Catia sat across from me and moaned while I tried not to laugh. Then I joined in with my verbal utterances, and Catia would laugh. Whoever was listening must have thought our sex life was weird as hell, because she would always laugh at my fake orgasm, and then I’d smack her arm to shut her up. You hadn’t seen awkward until you’d had fake sex with a lesbian, who thought you were an awful kisser.
I’d swept the entire apartment, and found small button-size mikes under our bedside lamp, under the blender in the kitchen, under the DVD player in living room, and as gross as it sounded, under the soap dispenser in the bathroom. For seven freaking days, I had to live with a total stranger, and pretend we’d intimately known each other for years. I knew Catia was having a hard time with it too, because she would randomly burst out laughing when I did something, like trying to make dinner the first night and give her meat. She kindly reminded me she was a vegetarian, something I’d forgotten. It was a mess.
Today was our last day, thank God. We’d already packed up and been told we’d be receiving discharge papers soon.
Catia was pacing the floors of the living room. “I can’t wait to get out of here and find some decent work. I hope we can score a good apartment too.”
I nodded. “We can stay at a motel for a few nights until we find a good place. I’ve got that money we saved up for the down payment.”
With wide eyes, I tried to let her know it was actually my money, and I’d be happy to put it down on our shared apartment.
She chuckled. “Hah. You mean the money I mostly saved.”
I grinned. Clearly she had her own money. Catia was a feminist. Brielle would have loved her.
A sharp pang hit my heart as I thought of my fiancée. Fiancée? Ex fiancée? Late fiancée? I wasn’t sure what to call her anymore, and that killed me.
Before I could wallow further, a knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.
“Come in!” Catia yelled and we both stood frozen.
A young heavyset female entered the apartment, slapping a stack of papers down on the dining table. “You’re approved for residency in San Francisco. Any violating of our laws will be met with consequences. The laws are outlined in the pamphlet.” She pointed to the papers she’d just given us.
This lady totally looked like she hated her job. It was clear in the way she was scowling at us behind tired eyes. Catia and I simply nodded, wondering when she’d let us go. Whether they said it or not, we were prisoners here. It was implied by the way the security guards walked the halls at all hours, and didn’t let anybody leave. The outer apartment gates were locked from the outside, and groceries were delivered. We had yet to even explore the city.
“Alright, go! We need to make room for newcomers,” she hissed.
I grabbed my bag, and then, being a gentleman, I reached for Catia’s, only to have her smack my hand away and grab it herself.
With a shake of my head and a suppressed grin, I passed the mean old lady, and snatched the stack of papers before walking out of jail, and into my new life.
Chapter Ten
The second Catia and I walked out of the apartment's front gates, I saw that the city was not what I’d expected. It weighed down on me, like Demon City did back home, but to a lesser degree—just a mild and tolerable pain.
Everything was coated in a red glow. The streetlights were red neon signs; everything glowed a sickly color. It was weird. There was also an air of fear in the place. People ran quietly, head down, to wherever they were going, as if they feared getting caught for doing something bad. My gaze flicked to a pair of Monkshood demons patrolling the streets with machine guns.
“Jesus,” Catia breathed.
“Tray Fox?” a small voice said behind me, causing me to jump a little, which elicited a chuckle from my “girlfriend.”
I spun, and upon seeing the small boy, softened. “Yeah?”
He took off running, and I shared a confused look with Catia.
A trap? Or something else.
She took off running after him, and I decided to follow if only to keep her from getting killed. We ran past a body hanging from a streetlamp and we both faltered, slowing our steps. The stench of death reached my nose, and I glanced up to see it was a female with blond hair … like Brielle. Scrawled across her shirt were two words in red paint: Angel Lover.
Catia made a whining noise in her throat and I grabbed her hand, steering her away from the gruesome sight. This place wasn’t like Demon City. It was much, much worse. That was just made clear. We reached the corner where the boy had taken a hard right, and followed him. Catia was right by my side, eyes down now, hand still in mine. I’m sure she was a badass soldier, but there was also something delicate and fragile about her. I felt this need to look after her, protect her from seeing anything too horrifying.
She’d become like a treasured little sister to me in this short time together.
The boy cut into an alley and I navigated us that way, only to stop abruptly when I came head to head with some dude. The boy scrambled quickly to hide behind him, and my hand went to my waist belt where I normally kept my sword. The sword that was at Fallen Academy.
Dammit.
The guy smiled widely. “Tray! It’s good to see you, man. Been too long.” He leaned forward and pulled me in for a rigid hug. When we pulled away, I saw that some of the neighbors were peeking out the window, watching us.
“Is this your girl?” he asked me, pointing to Catia.
Who the hell was this dude? How did he know me? I was hoping he was a friendly. “Yeah, this is Cat.”
She’d gotten a name close to her own. Not fair.
Catia swooped in, like an Oscar winning actress. “So good to finally meet you!” She squealed and hugged the guy.
Did she know something I didn’t? This guy was as tall as me and built to match. With short-cropped light brown hair and a scar over his eyebrow, he looked rugged and well lived.
“We’re famished,” Catia commented, and the guy nodded.
“Good, dinner is ready.”
I tried to nudge Cat. There was no way I was eating food from a stranger, but the dude just slipped into the open doorway, with his little friend following close behind him. I shared one quick look with Catia, but she simply shrugged as if she had no clue.
Great. If this were a trap we would have spent a whopping ten minutes in the city before being killed.
We silently walked down the long hall. A few doors were cracked open to reveal eyes watching us from behind them, some human, some demon. When we got to the dude’s apartment, he unlocked it with a key. It took a while because he had three deadbolts to unlock, all with different keys.
Weird.
Again, Catia and I shared a look as my muscles tensed, preparing for a fist fight if needed. Once the apartment door was swung wide open, the dude and his kid entered, looking back at us to come in as well.
Was this guy Fallen Army? Or a planted trap from San Francisco demons?
I stepped in front of Catia, positioning her behind me, and entered the apartment. Dropping my bag immediately, I freed up my hands for a fight. Once Catia stepped in, the little boy scurried behind us and started locking all the bolts.
“Who are you?” I asked him, assessing any exits. I could grab Catia and bust out of the window if I had to, take a fire escape—or worst case, use my wings.
He bowed his head. �
�James Willow. At your service.”
Relief crashed through me. My muscles relaxed, and my heart rate settled.
Our inside contact.
The little boy went to the stove and started to ladle hot soup into large bowls.
“You had me worried for a minute there, man,” I told him, reaching out to shake his hand.
The guy grinned, and I decided he couldn’t be a day over twenty-two. So young.
“Who’s the kid?” Catia asked, taking off her coat, and making herself at home.
James looked back at the boy with a touch of sadness on his face. “To the outside world he is my house slave. I saved him from being sold to a buyer in Saudi Arabia. I plan to reunite him with his family soon, but he’s agreed to stay on and help the cause.”
The boy set the bowls on the table and nodded. “Stick it to the man,” he told us.
I tried to force a grin, but it was hard considering that my heart was breaking for his situation. “They just sell kids like it’s no big deal?” I knew my question was naïve, but I was having trouble processing it all.
James sighed. “Yeah. Daily. It’s a billion dollar industry that lines the demons’ pockets. But when I bought Mathew, it earned me respect among the demons. All the important demons have house slaves. Then I got brought into the inner circle, which is where I can make the most change.”
Mathew grinned, slurping his soup. “We’re going to get all the kids out,” he told us proudly as I threatened to start crying in front of these new strangers.
James ruffled his hair. “Yes we are, buddy. As many as we can.”
I realized then that Catia hadn’t said a word. Looking over, my gaze met hers. There were unshed tears in her eyes.
She must have been thinking about her late sister. I grasped her hand and nodded. She nodded back, wiping her eyes before composing herself.
I met James’ cool gaze. “Tell me how we can help you.”
That’s really all Catia and I wanted. To help.
He smiled. “I was hoping you would say that.”
And with that we went over the plan. James told us everything about how the city worked. In order to get access to the women and children, and handle the sale of them, I needed to become a broker. Women were frowned upon to become brokers because they were too soft, but James thought he could get Catia a job feeding and caring for the slaves while they were in transit.