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The Shadow Children (The Demon-Born Trilogy Book 1)

Page 15

by L. C. Hibbett


  I snorted. “Yeah, he’s a super talented stylist. He dresses all the world class hookers.” Sam grinned, and I saw the dimple in his right cheek for the first time in months. I bit my lip. Lucas laughed and Jasmine tossed the small velvet pouch at his head. He caught it with one hand and threw it into the air again, like a tennis ball.

  Jasmine held her hand up, her body rigid. Lucas froze, and the pouch bounced across the ground and under the dumpster. The giddy adrenaline of a moment ago drained from my blood, replaced by icy fear. Jasmine kicked the suitcase out of sight and crept towards the open end of the lane, peeping around the corner. She whipped around to face us. “Lucas. Academy Brats coming this way.”

  My stomach contracted.

  Lucas paled. “Sam, don’t even let them get a look at her face. Okay? I’ll try and shake them off, but it could take a few minutes.”

  Lucas pushed his hand flat against my back and shoved me into Sam’s chest. I heard the footsteps coming closer and prayed that Angels couldn’t sense how fast a person’s heart was beating. Lucas sprinted up to Jasmine and wrapped his arms around her as if they had just finished making out.

  “Lucas, what the devil are you doing here? I thought you were in L.A. until August?”

  Sam snaked his arms around my waist and shifted us in a single movement, so that my back was touching the cold brick wall and his body shielded me from view. He bent down and whispered into my ear. “Those guys are from the London Academy. Lucas has a charmed necklace that will conceal your nature, but if they get close enough before you put it on, they’ll be able to sense you’re not of pure blood.”

  I tried to focus on his words, but I was distracted by the sensation of his breath against my skin. My teeth sank into the the soft flesh of my lower lip.

  “Grace, we just need to pretend to be two people hooking up in a laneway, and they should leave us alone. It’s just acting.” Sam’s voice sounded lower than usual. I closed my eyes are tried to breathe deeply enough to slow my heart rate. When I opened them again, Sam was watching my chest rise and fall. Every inch of my skin was alive. His eyes traveled slowly up to my face, lingering on my mouth for the briefest moment.

  “What are you thinking?” His voice was husky. I couldn’t hear what Lucas and the others were saying over the pounding of my pulse.

  “That I’m frightened.” I blushed at my honesty and Sam’s brow furrowed.

  “Of?”

  I rested my head against the wall and stared at the curved roof. “I’m scared of everything, Sam. All the time.”

  Sam lifted his hand to my face, and I lowered my chin to meet his stare. “Everybody gets scared, Grace. You aren’t trained for this.”

  I ran my hand over my eyes. “Sam, I was a coward long before I ever met any of you. You can’t take credit for that.”

  He pulled my hand down from my face. “You’re strong.”

  I snapped my hand out of his grasp. “Don’t tell me what I am, Sam. You want to know how much of a coward I am? I’ve never even asked Eve who I am. Never. Why I’m with her and not in a Silent Home. She has this stupid wooden chest that she dragged around with her every place we lived. I know there are letters in there. And diaries. Under her magic stuff. I’ve never even peeked. I want to know everything about the whole universe, except what kind of a monster I am. Or why my own mother didn’t want me.”

  I pressed my hand against my mouth as if I could shove the words back inside. The sound of chatter filtered back down the alley. Sam leaned forward. “You were brave enough to run for Eve that night in the field, even with the Spirits following you. Strong enough to go back for her at the cottage.”

  I shrugged my shoulders and stared at the ground with a grim half-smile. “But not brave enough to make people tell me the truth about the hard stuff. Like why you stood me up, and froze me out, like I was some sort of disease.”

  Sam stumbled against the dumpster and the voices down the alley raised in volume. “Who’s down there Lucas? Anyone you should introduce us too?”

  I stiffened at the raucous sound of their laughter. Sam drew me closer, and I crushed my face against his shoulder. The sound of footsteps echoed around the arched walls.

  “Hey, she looks like your type Harry, remember that leggy brunette from Cannes last year? You were all set to marry that one.”

  “I might yet Jacob, don’t rule me out. Maybe I should say hello to your friend, Lucas, just in case Cannes doesn’t work out.”

  Lucas gave a forced laugh. “I think she’s otherwise engaged, dude. There’s more than talking going on over there.”

  Sam’s fingers dug into my waist, and I felt him hesitate for a split second before he pressed his mouth gently against my neck. An involuntary shiver caressed my skin. Sam filled his lungs sharply before lifting his head to kiss my lips. Softly. My head snapped back as if I had been shocked and my skull slammed against the rough brick.

  Lucas clamped a hand firmly on Sam’s shoulder. “Ease off on the distraction, guys. Job done. No need to give Grace a concussion trying to escape your luscious pout, Sam.”

  I scanned the alley, holding onto the wall to steady myself as I massaged my aching scalp. There was no sign of the other Angels. Jasmine wiggled her eyebrows at me as she got down on her hands and knees and retrieved the velvet pouch, tossing it to Lucas. He pulled out a slender gold chain with a small locket dangling on the end.

  Sam crossed his arms. “Lucas, just do your damn job and put that charm on Grace so I don’t have to do any more stupid crap to conceal her.”

  His words struck me like a whip. I clenched my teeth and snatched the locket, fastening it around my own neck. “All done. Nobody will be able to sense my filthy blood. You won’t have to lay a finger on me again, Sam.”

  I didn’t even flick my eyes in Sam’s direction as I marched out of the alleyway towards the noise of the street.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  London City hit me like a smack in the face. The pavement was teeming with people from every walk of life. A silver haired man sidestepped me and his expensive suit brushed against my bare arms.

  Jasmine grabbed my hand before I could cross the cobbled street. “Where you headed, Gracie?” Her tone was casual, but there was no mistaking the reprimand in her eyes.

  “Sorry, Jas. He can just be such a jerk.” I swallowed hard, sniffing away the stinging sensation in my throat.

  Jasmine’s face softened. “He can. I’m sorry. Sam’s complicated. But you can’t just wander around the Square Mile during rush hour. Some suit will mow you down.” She tilted her head toward a group of boys smoking outside a bar on the corner. “Or that guy will try and buy you a drink.”

  One the boys nudged his friend and smiled in our direction. My face warmed. “Tattoos are kind of cute, aren’t they, Jas?”

  A muscled arm wrapped around my shoulders and twisted me in the opposite direction. “Ladies. Ladies. Ladies, just because I have styled you like brazen Academy Brats doesn’t mean you should start throwing yourself on the first hot guy you see.” Lucas raised an eyebrow at me as he propelled us down the street. “Pretty nice choice, though. Tattoos and a crew cut. I thought you would be more into the brooding, academic type.”

  I shot him the side eye. “Wrong. Moody boys with an attitude problem can go kiss my ass.”

  Sam marched ahead of us with his hands jammed into the pockets of his tight black jeans. Jasmine gave me a wink. I smiled back and straightened my shoulders.

  “Okay. We’re here.” Lucas gestured for us to turn left. He dropped his arm from my shoulder and grabbed my hand. Sam went around the corner first and then beckoned us on with a tip of his head. Jasmine linked my other arm.

  “Leadenhall market.” I read the sign aloud and took in the full scale of the building. I wondered how old it was. It was an architectural beauty, constructed from carved stone, iron, and glass. The shop fronts were immaculately painted in maroon and dark green, and the cobbled streets that ran under its ornate dome look
ed as if they might have been scrubbed by an army of Dickensian parlor maids. I could sense Sam’s eyes on my face as I drank in the atmosphere. “This place is beautiful.”

  Jasmine rested her head against my shoulder. “I think so too. Humans have their own sort of magic.”

  I blinked, fighting a flurry of emotion. Lucas grinned. “So this is what turns you on, Gracie, an excellent piece of architecture?”

  “Stop! I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m an emotional wreck these days. It’s awful, crying at the drop of a hat.” Lucas wiggled his eyebrows and made kissing faces at me. I elbowed him in the ribs. “You’re a ridiculous human being, Lucas. You know that, right?”

  Lucas smirked. “Technically I’m not.”

  I rolled my eyes at him as we followed Sam into the market. Jasmine and Lucas released their grip on me. Lucas stepped ahead, into line with Sam, and Jasmine brought up the rear. Each had their hands curled around the now familiar metal handles. We halted in front of an old fashioned book shop, and I bumped into Sam’s back.

  “Sorry, I was distracted.” I stepped back holding my palms out. “This place is just like something from—”

  “Harry Potter.” Sam finished the sentence with me, and I was slammed with the memory of how Sam and Brandon had convinced Cat and Cain to run a marathon of all the movies at a special all-day session of the study group. They created a presentation to prove that the films were culturally significant and imperative to our education. Sam had walked me to the car afterward and kissed me. Told me he had feelings for me. Asked me to meet him at the library the next day. And then never showed.

  I gritted my teeth and ignored Sam’s attempt to catch my eye. Lucas pressed his palm against an unmarked black wooden door to the right of the booksellers. He looked from Sam to Jasmine. “Ready?”

  They both nodded.

  The door swung open revealing a dimly lit passage that led to a steep stone stairwell. I squinted. “I thought we were going to the Tower of London?”

  Lucas gave me a grim shrug. “Kind of. We’re going to the Tower Club. It runs under the Tower of London. Only Humans and Demons use the front door. Demons aren’t supposed to facilitate social activities where intoxicated Angels mix with Humans. High-risk environment and all that.”

  I hesitated on the threshold. “So what are we doing? I thought we could only get Dawn’s medicine thing if pretended to be Angels? If they aren’t allowed into the club why are we going?”

  Jasmine tugged me through the doorway by the hem of my dress. “Rules are made to be broken, Gracie. And sexy, spoilt academy brats are happy to risk a slap on the wrist for the thrill of a night clubbing with the Demons and the Humans.”

  I held on to the top of my dress, afraid that it would fall down and reveal my bare chest. “Yeah, Jasmine. I’m not sure I can pull off the sexy brat thing.”

  I slapped Jasmine’s fingers away and yanked the dress back into place.

  Lucas shot me a loaded look. “You better fake it ‘til you make it, girl. This isn’t a game. Keep up and follow us. And do not remove that charm. No matter what.”

  I wrapped my fingers around the delicate gold locket. My old gold band slipped further down my wrist. I had taken it off and left it on my shelf in the bedroom the day after I woke in Shadow Hall, but my arm felt naked without it. “I won’t take it off, Lucas.” He squeezed my shoulder and stepped down the stairs after Jasmine.

  The narrow stairwell was almost in darkness. The evening sun, filtering in through the dirty glass door at the entrance, barely gave enough light to illuminate more than a few feet in front of us. It felt like I must have gone down a thousand steps before the stairs came to an abrupt end at a shabby wooden door. It was entirely ordinary.

  The chipped green paint was grubby, and the flickering wall lamp was filthy with grime. There appeared to be no handle or lock, just a tarnished brass plate which read ‘Dungeon Path’ in worn engraving.

  “What’s the story with these Demons living underground? Are they hideous? Do they hide from the light?” I hoped my tone hid the nervousness burning my throat.

  Jasmine grinned over her shoulder at me as she unsheathed a thin, sharp dagger tucked inside her boot. “Are you expecting a bunch of mountain trolls or something?”

  I gave her an appreciative nod. “Maybe. Or vampires.”

  Lucas took the blade from Jasmine and slit the tip of his left index finger. Scarlet droplets oozed out of the thin gash. He wiggled his bloody hand in my direction. “Now you’re getting closer. This crowd of Demons does love a blood tithe.”

  With his right hand, he flipped the brass plate upwards to reveal a small hole in the door. Through the coin-sized gap, I could see a flat piece of chrome. Lucas poked his finger through the opening, smearing blood onto the shiny metal. Jasmine and Samuel waited expectantly, familiar with this bizarre procedure. I opened my mouth to ask for a little clarity when the door opened inwards in a smooth motion. I snapped my mouth shut, trying not to dwell on the monsters waiting on the other side of the door.

  Lucas gave me a stern look. “Same as before, stay with Sam. Let us talk until we find your guy. We get in, get what Eve needs for Dawn, then we get out. Understood?”

  I resisted the urge to chew on my thumb. “I get it, Lucas.”

  He patted my arm. Jasmine grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him through the door after her. Sam didn’t move, his eyes fixed straight ahead as he waited for me to follow the others.

  “Off you go, Samuel, stuck up jerks before beauty.” I shoved him in the small of his back, catching him by surprise so he jolted over the threshold. A feeling of satisfaction tempered my fear. I stepped through the door, and it slid shut behind me.

  “Whoa. This is not what I expected the Dungeon Path to look like.” I turned in a full circle as I tried to take in the details of the passage and my boots clacked on the polished concrete floor.

  Jasmine grinned as she walked in the direction signposted ‘Tower Dungeon’ in slick gold script on the pristine white wall. Jasmine’s voice trailed behind her. “Walk and talk, Grace. We want to get to the club before it starts to fill up.”

  I followed Jasmine and Lucas, admiring the way her black hair gleamed in the soft light from the crystal chandeliers. Sam kept pace beside me, his long legs covering the distance with ease. “Most Demons like money. But the London set really like money. Money and power. Maybe that’s what being immortal does to you.”

  He shot a look in my direction, but I couldn’t read his expression.

  “It’s this one,” Lucas called back to us, gesturing towards a sleek black door.

  Another metal plate was set into the wood, and Jasmine unsheathed the blade again. “I’ll do it, Luc, nobody needs to be a hero.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “I am THE HERO, Jasmine. Don’t let the jealousy eat away at that pure soul.”

  I moved close beside Jasmine as she let her blood drip onto the rectangular plate. Once the crimson liquid had coated the small metal sheet it was whipped away into a slot to the left, and another blank piece of silver took its place. Jasmine pulled a plaster from her back pocket and covered the small cut.

  As the door slid open a deep thrum of dance music filled the corridor. Lucas pursed his lips shut and gave Sam the nod. Jasmine molded herself against Lucas’s side, and they strode into the club like a single person. I hesitated, my gaze lingering on the metal plate. Sam put his hand firmly around my waist. I pushed my shoulders back. For Dawn. Sam pressed his fingers against my hip, and we entered the club.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  If I had been expecting a dark, slimy dungeon full of dwarves and Dracula imposters, then The Tower Dungeon Nightclub was not going to deliver.

  I had never been to a club before and this one seemed like the scene for a music video. Every surface was gleaming and reflective. A transparent staircase curved along the exterior of a vast circular room, leading to an upper level, and a twisted sculpture rose from the center of the dance
floor. It appeared to be almost empty.

  A tall, blond girl with striking aquamarine colored eyes glided across the room. “Welcome, please follow me to your table.”

  She led us to a circular booth. I slid along the plush velvet couch, staring at my feet until the beautiful girl had left us to get the bottle of champagne that Lucas ordered.

  “Champagne?” Sam raised his brows.

  “That’s what Academy Brats drink and today we’re Academy Brats, okay?” Jasmine’s tone was full of thorns.

  I pushed my palms onto the black glass table, trying not to panic at the sight of Jasmine’s growing anxiety. “Right. So this is a nightclub. But if only a few Angel brats are brave enough to come here is it essentially a club for Humans? Or for Demons too?” The other three grinned like monkeys. Being the class dunce was starting to grate on me.

  Sam traced his finger along the table as he spoke and I forced myself to put my irritation aside for the sake of the mission. “Yes, this is a club owned by Demons and run by Demons. But it isn’t just for Demons. Most of the people who come here are Humans. Peoplewho work in the financial district, minor celebrities, rich kids— the beautiful people. Demons come here too, because lots of Demons work in the city. They pretty much run the stock markets.”

  Lucas held his hand up sensing my confusion. “Remember, Demons aren’t devils. They’re just people who’ve traveled to our world from other dimensions. From what we know this was the norm before the Great Divide. People travelingbetween realms, sharing knowledge and skills. But when the veil descended, there was an unexpected side-effect— the visitors from other realms, Demons, became trapped here. Demons can still enter out world but they can no longer leave. They don’t age in our world. Physically each Demon remains suspended as they were the moment of their arrival.”

  Jasmine took over, her voice low. “That’s why a lot of Demons keep a low profile, running their businesses through Angel contacts— humans are going to notice if the local rich guy doesn’t age in five hundred years.”

 

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