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Club Nexus (Ivy Granger, Psychic Detective)

Page 3

by Stevens, E. J.


  I tossed the corpse to the ground. I no longer needed the faerie woman; she was drier than a bar on Sunday. But the human was another story.

  I rushed forward, the sting of a crossbow bolt not even making me pause. The bolt wasn’t wood, so it couldn’t stop me, but I’d still make the woman pay for the minor wound. My fingernails lengthened as I extended my hands toward the woman—all the better to flay the flesh from her bones.

  I reached out, closing the distance, but suddenly the woman was gone and the demon was standing in front of me. Before I had time to wonder where my prey had gone, a blinding pain shot through my chest. Then all I could see was the ceiling.

  I’d been staked.

  I tried to move, but I was weak as a lamb. I couldn’t so much as flex my fingers. I strained to hear past the ringing in my ears, wondering what the demon had planned for the likes of me. Probably nothing good.

  I reckoned I was past redemption now. I’d broken Vampire Law and was beyond receiving help from the council. Puck lay bleeding close by, not that he was even a friend. For the first time in decades, I felt remorse. How long had it been since I’d had faithful friends or allies to watch my back?

  My past was steeped in blood. After my rising, I’d killed everyone who’d ever mattered to me as a human. I’d murdered my friends and family and reveled in their pain.

  Eventually, the demon came to stand over me, flame flickering in his eyes. I knew then what he meant to do and, surprisingly, a part of me welcomed this final judgment. All things have an ending, and I’d had a long unlife.

  I’d cheated death and caused a speedbump in the cycle of life. I should have died long ago. When the flames came, I smiled. It was time to complete the cycle.

  It was time to return to dust.

  JINXED

  Of all the nightclubs, in all the cities, in all the world, the freakin’ demon had to walk into Club Nexus. My nickname, Jinx, had never seemed more appropriate. I really was one of the unluckiest people on the planet.

  The sight of Forneus striding purposefully across the club toward me made my breath quicken and skin tingle. I tried to look away, or at least stammer a warning to Ivy who was ordering our drinks, but my body had gone on strike, completely disconnecting from my brain. Anger and desire stole the words from my lips and I continued to face the demon head on.

  When it came to Forneus, I admit, I have issues.

  I desperately wanted to kiss the man and shoot him in equal parts. That’s the problem with the demon lawyer. He is so frustratingly attractive and yet every time he opens his mouth I feel the urge to wipe that smug smile off his face—with a sledgehammer. Every move of his powerful body, every gesture of his slender hands, and every leer down his aquiline nose sent waves of heat down into my belly and made my blood boil.

  Yes, I should definitely shoot him.

  Since Forneus was a demon, he’d probably survive the shooting, might even enjoy it if I hadn’t dipped my crossbow bolts in holy water before leaving the loft. I slipped my hand from the bar and reached over my shoulder to where my crossbow was slung, keeping my eyes on the demon. My fingers traced the handle of the weapon and I licked my lips in anticipation.

  Forneus approached from the side opposite Ivy and slid an arm around my waist. Warmth spread through me and need spiraled low in my belly. As if sensing my desire, a knowing smile lifted his lips and heat simmered in his eyes.

  I shifted in my seat, giving Forneus a leer of my own, and froze. Ivy, glowing wildly like a fourth of July sparkler, was there in a flash, holding a knife to Forneus’ throat. Damn, she was fast—and pissed.

  Even if her glowing skin hadn’t given away my friend’s agitation, then the sheen of sweat on her upper lip and her rapid breathing would have been a clear indication of just how much Ivy loathed the idea of coming this close to touching an immortal demon. Well, when it came to this particular demon that was something we both had in common.

  And it wasn’t demon cooties she was worried about. If so much as an inch of her skin brushed against Forneus, Ivy would be trapped in millennia of nightmare visions, direct from Hell. And that was one station I’m sure she didn’t want to tune into, ever. But here she was, holding one of her blades to his throat. Her gloved hand barely shook as she stared down the demon.

  It was then that I realized the music had stopped. In fact, the entire club had gone silent as a grave, every single breathing patron holding their collective breath. I flicked my eyes around to see hundreds of faeries, and even a few vamps, staring at Ivy’s blade where it dug into Forneus’ throat. The only movement was from a half dozen large ogres as they pushed their way through the crowd.

  Heart racing like the dance music that should have been playing, my hand tightened on the crossbow, and I thumbed off the safety. Had it been foolish to cock and load the bow before entering the club? Probably, but I was now happy that I had. If the club’s bouncers turned on me and Ivy, we’d go down fighting.

  A growling voice, preceded by a quick puff of air, warned me of a newcomer to the fight. I sucked in a shaky breath and turned to see a griffin alight on top of the barstool Ivy had vacated.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, human,” he said.

  The dog-sized creature had arrived before the other bouncers by using its wings to fly over the crowded room. Though smaller than the fast approaching ogres, the griffin looked just as deadly. An eagle head sporting a hooked beak rested atop the body of a lion, claws and all.

  “Why not?” I asked, keeping my voice low. “What’s going on?”

  “You’ve threatened violence within the club’s walls,” the griffin said. “There will be no bloodshed here. Club Nexus is neutral ground. If you wish to kill each other, take it outside.”

  “This is all a misunderstanding,” Forneus said, spreading his hands wide. “These lovely ladies weren’t threatening me Gregor, not against my will. This was just a little game we concocted. To keep things…interesting.”

  “Demons,” the griffin spat under his breath.

  “What?” Forneus asked, eyes wide. “Eternity is a long time, as you well know. A man must do something to spice things up a bit now and again.”

  The griffin, Gregor, frowned, but nodded to the ogres who now stood at Ivy’s back. One of the ogres cracked his knuckles, but none of them reached for my friend. I took that as a good sign. Especially since one of those hands could palm Ivy’s head like a softball.

  “You know the rules, Forneus,” Gregor said. “If your games involve consensual violence, you must submit the appropriate paperwork to club security. Nearly any behavior is allowed with a proper permit, but we do not allow anarchy within these walls.”

  “Paperwork,” Forneus muttered, rolling his eyes. “You’re all nearly as bad as Hell.”

  “In the meantime,” Gregor said, turning to Ivy. “Sheath your weapons. There will be no bloodshed without filing the necessary paperwork.”

  The demon sighed and folded his arms across his chest.

  “Might as well do as they say, darling,” he said. “You can’t cut through this red tape with weapons. But if you do decide to fight, I’m happy to provide you with legal services…for a nominal fee.”

  I shook my head at the demon lawyer’s offer. Pay Forneus to get us out of this jam? Over my dead body. As I saw it, it was his fault we were in trouble with club security in the first place. I snorted and inched away from the demon. At least his arm was no longer wrapped around my waist.

  Ivy looked at me and I nodded, slipping an empty hand into my lap. Cutting Forneus’ throat and impaling him with a crossbow bolt were things that would just have to wait. Ivy lowered her blade and shoved it into a sheath concealed beneath her leather jacket. In one quick movement, she slid away from Forneus and leaned against the bar at my side.

  “Are we good, griffin?” she asked, never taking her eyes off Forneus.

  “Yes, Princess,” Gregor said. “Do try to follow the rules in the future.”

  Ivy
grunted an affirmative and the griffin took wing. Apparently, that was the signal for the club to return to normal. Music pulsed through the room and dancers returned to their earlier swaying and gyrating.

  Scowling, Ivy slid back onto her bar stool and turned to watch demon.

  “Ah, now, where were we?” Forneus asked. He moved closer, brushing against my leg. “Shall I buy you that drink?”

  Forneus perched on the edge of the barstool beside me and now that we weren’t being chewed out by club security, I couldn’t help but notice that he smelled different. Was that cologne…and mouthwash? Was Forneus trying to cover up the stench of brimstone that usually clung to him like a hellspawn fart? Whatever he’d done, it was an improvement. Heat flared from where our legs touched and I wondered if he tasted as good as he smelled…

  Forneus turned a raised eyebrow my way, but I was so distracted that I’d forgotten the question. I blushed, trying to remember what he’d asked. Ivy bristled at my side, her skin glowing so brightly that I had to blink rapidly to keep my eyes from tearing up.

  “Um…” I said.

  “No,” Ivy said.

  I shook my head, clearing away the ridiculous impulse to crawl into Forneus’ lap and run my hands through his slicked back hair. Right, the demon had offered to buy me a drink. Get a grip, Jinx. Geesh, I was here to celebrate the end of my relationship with Hans. I wasn’t here to hook up with some new guy worthy of a stabbing.

  “No thanks, Forneus,” I said. “I’d rather chew on thumbtacks.”

  “Really?” he asked, eyelids at half mast. Those bedroom eyes nearly did me in, but Ivy slid off her stool, hands twitching at her sides. I knew that with her new faerie speed, she could have a blade at Forneus’ throat again in a second, and to hell with the consequences. “Fine, fine. Until later, ladies.”

  With a wink and a bow, Forneus turned and slipped away into the crowd, leaving an empty ache in my gut. I put a hand to my stomach, wishing my traitorous feelings would stop complicating my life. Having the hots for a sexy demon was not a problem I needed right now.

  “I don’t know what you see in him,” Ivy said.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Are you telling me you didn’t just stare at his butt like it was a double-fudge brownie?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

  I shrugged and turned back to the bar.

  “You two need to figure things out soon, before someone gets killed in the crossfire,” she said.

  “Figure what out?” I asked, staring at the colorful, glowing bottles that lined the shelves behind the bar.

  “Like if you want to throw the guy into bed or an empty grave,” she said.

  I sighed and picked at a drink coaster, crumpling bits of confetti onto the ebony bar. At least, I thought it was a coaster. Up close it resembled a dried out leaf. Weirdo faeries.

  “I guess I want a bit of both,” I said, turning to Ivy. She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut. “What?”

  “Just had an image of you humping the demon lawyer in a graveyard,” she said.

  “Yeah, me too,” I said with a sigh. I let my head drop into my hands, elbows resting on the leaf strewn bar. “I can’t decide if I need brain bleach or a crate of condoms. Heck, do demons have STDs?”

  “Mab’s bones, I don’t want to know,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t even know how you can stand the stench.”

  “You mean his cologne?” I asked. I thought he smelled…yummy.

  “Is that what we’re calling it now?” she asked. “He smells like hellfire and brimstone. It makes my sinuses burn.”

  “That’s weird,” I said. “I’ve smelled that on him in the past, but tonight I thought he smelled good. Like he’d put on cologne and swished with some kind of cinnamon mouthwash or like he’d been sucking on hot balls. No demon stench at all.”

  “You did not just say his breath, a demon’s breath, smelled like hot balls,” she said. Ivy slapped a gloved hand over her mouth, but her eyes were laughing at me.

  “And I can’t believe you just went there,” I said, chuckling. “Who are you and what have you done with my prudish friend? Which reminds me, we still haven’t talked about you and Ceff. I want to hear all about the hot kelpie sex.”

  Ivy sighed.

  “I think we need those drinks,” she said.

  Our drinks still sat on the bar where Ivy had left them before the Forneus drama. She slid a pint glass toward me and raised her own in mock salute. I noticed that Ivy’s had a familiar chip in the side and wondered how she’d talked the bartender into serving her in her own glass. Who knows, maybe weird requests like that weren’t that unusual around here. They did use dead tree droppings as coasters.

  “To girls’ night out,” I said, smiling.

  “May we survive it,” she replied. Ivy knocked back her drink and wiped her sleeve across her mouth. “So, can we go home now?”

  “No way,” I said. “I’m not going anywhere until I dance with at least one decent guy.”

  “I was afraid of that,” she said.

  Ivy’s eyes continued to scan the room, always on the alert for threats. I followed her gaze, sizing up each eligible bachelor in the place. In a club this huge, you’d think there would be plenty of available hotties, but a quick survey of the dance floor only made me want to go home and hug my crossbow.

  “There’s got to be one man here who doesn’t want to eat my face or plant mutant babies in my eyeballs,” I said.

  Ivy chuckled and shook her head. I was exaggerating, a bit, but there were some pretty freaky fae creatures here. For every beautiful faerie, there was something that looked like a monster from Saturday morning cartoons. And though vamps looked yummy enough to my eyes—the faerie ointment I wore didn’t cut through undead glamour—Ivy had assured me that I didn’t want to date one. No matter how sexy their glamour made them look, embracing bones, fangs, and corpse dust was just not my thing.

  “What about him?” Ivy asked, studying a guy who was standing further down the bar. “He looks harmless, for a faerie, and he’s kinda cute.”

  I took in the boyish face and shock of curly, blond hair and sighed. He was cute, but not really my type. He was above average height and covered in lean muscle, but his golden curls would have suited one of those creepy, naked babies they put on Valentine’s Day cards and his skin looked softer than mine.

  “I prefer mature men,” I said. “He’s probably jailbait.”

  Ivy laughed.

  “I doubt it,” she said. “He’s probably hundreds of years older than you.”

  He turned our way and smiled and I nearly rolled my eyes. The guy even had dimples. Ivy waved and I resisted the urge to punch her. Jailbait was now walking our way.

  “Great, look what you’ve done,” I whispered. “Since he’s on his way over, can you at least tell if he’s Seelie or Unseelie fae?”

  Not that a faerie’s court affiliation meant they were necessarily good or evil. Ivy was half wisp and Ceff was a kelpie, both of the Unseelie court, and they didn’t act like they had gone over to the dark side. But I figured it was best to be forewarned. I just wished faeries walked around with different colored lightsabers or something so I could tell which team they were on.

  “I’m a light fae,” the guy said, stepping up to my side. “And you must be the lovely human everyone is whispering about tonight.”

  Crap. Pesky faerie hearing. I should have learned by now that the tricksy immortals could hear from across the room, if they wanted to. Leave it to me to open my mouth and insert a pair of platform sandals.

  “Um, good to know you’re one of the good guys,” I said. “I’m Jinx.”

  “Puck,” he said, reaching for and kissing the back of my hand. His green eyes twinkled and that dimple was back, but Ivy was right. There was something about him that seemed older than his apparent eighteen or so years.

  “As in THE Puck?” Ivy asked.

  I pulled my hand back, thankful for the interruption. For a mom
ent, I’d felt like Puck and I were standing alone in an ancient forest. I wiped my hand down my thigh, wondering if the lingering scent of pine and sound of dead, rustling leaves was only my imagination. Had this innocent looking guy worked some kind of faerie magic on me? And if kissing my hand had sent us into some dreamy forest, what would a real kiss do? A shiver ran along my spine; I wasn’t sure if I wanted to find out.

  “The one and only,” he said. He leaned in so close that I could count the freckles that dotted his nose and cheeks. “Have you heard of me?”

  He waggled his eyebrows and Ivy laughed, but I just sat there, wishing I’d ordered a second drink. I knew my brain was scrambled after the encounter with Forneus, but I had no idea what they were talking about. I was pretty sure I’d never heard the name Puck in my life.

  “No, are you famous or something?” I asked.

  “More like notorious,” Ivy said, smiling. “Puck here made it into Shakespeare’s play A Midsummer Night’s Dream. If the Bard is to be believed, he’s something of a trickster.”

  Ivy’s mom had been big into Shakespeare, which explained how my friend had heard of Puck. I liked old books, music, and movies, but my idea of retro was the early 1900’s, not the dinosaur age.

  “Thou speak'st aright; I am that merry wanderer of the night,” he said with a bow.

  So this guy Puck was some kind of celebrity faerie trickster? What, exactly, did that mean?

  “So, um, what kind of tricks are we talking about?” I asked. “Nair in shampoo bottles? Sticking firecrackers up a frog’s butt?”

  Oops. I felt heat rise to my face, wishing again for that second drink. I swear sometimes my mouth has a mind of its own. Thankfully, Puck smiled and laughed like what I’d said was meant to be funny.

  “Nothing that bad,” he said. “Just kid stuff. Plus, that was the old Puck. I’m a reformed sinner.”

 

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