City of Demons

by Debbie Cassidy

  “Stop!” I stepped in front of Lex, hands out. “Enough.”

  “Why how chivalrous of you, Miss Bastion,” Lex said smoothly. “Now get the fuck out of my club.”

  We didn’t bump into Tay or Mack on the way out, but a quick text informed them that we’d been booted. Outside, the night air was like a hearty slap, clearing my fuzzy head and bringing everything that had just happened into focus. The main point being that we’d fucked up so hard we hadn’t even gotten to ask him the questions we’d come to ask. Dammit.

  Azren strode ahead and then stopped, whirling to face me. “The dagger was glowing. I saw it. He’s hiding something.”

  “I don’t know, Azren. He seems to really hate Shedim. Why would he protect them? You heard what he said about Others and how the Draconi and the Shedim are all bastards.”

  “He doesn’t understand anything. It’s just the way things have always been,” Azren said.

  “What?”

  “The Others. The Shedim, the Draconi, and the creatures that roam the Everdark. It is the order of things. It is how we survive. Every creature has its place.”

  There was real conflict in his voice, as if he was trying to convince himself, not educate me. “Just because it’s always been that way doesn’t mean it should be.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “They look brighter here. Alive. In Draconi territory, they are all shades of gray.”

  “Who? The Others?”

  “Yes.” He looked torn. “I never knew ... never knew they could be so beautiful.”

  “They’re all so pretty.”

  He pressed his lips together. “Yes. The ones that the Draconi employ for pleasure are beautiful, nothing like the ones you hunt. But even these beautiful creatures were considered a mistake by the creator. He made many mistakes before he finally created man. The Shedim were his first creation meant to occupy this earth, but we weren’t good enough. It wasn’t long before he sent his shades, his precious assassins and guardians, to reap us from this world and force us into the dark place. I wonder why he didn’t just smite us all.”

  He sounded forlorn, almost bitter, and words spilled from my lips. “My friend Eloise would make dresses, and some would turn out awful, but she could never bear to just bin them. She kept them in a trunk under her bed. She said they reminded her of her creative journey and that they’d always mean something to her simply because of the joy she’d experienced while creating them.”

  His throat bobbed. He was looking at me too intently.

  My neck grew hot. “Did Lex hit you? I mean, did you feel him make contact?”

  Azren frowned. “I felt a blow.”

  “I wasn’t sure, it happened so fast it almost looked like he used Arcana magic.”

  But only Arcana users could tap into that kind of power; all other magic required physical elements like herbs or runes or blood. Arcana users were the only nephs able to tap directly into the magic in our atmosphere. They were walking, talking conduits, each able to manipulate it in a different way. Some bonded it to the moisture in the air, others to heat, some used the electrical charge in the atmosphere, and there were those who could do it all but in small doses. There were always limits. Using Arcana was exhausting and required stamina. If Lex was Arcana, it would explain why the Arcana Institute left him alone, and why he had so much influence.

  Azren had gone very still and very silent.

  “Um, are you okay?” And then my gaze fell to his waist, to the dagger glowing softly. “Shit.”

  He looked up at me, his chest heaving in anticipation, and then the dagger blazed to life. Azren broke into a run.

  12

  Azren moved like the wind, but there was no leaving me behind. Speed was one of my neph perks, and years of chasing bad guys had honed that particular skill. Thanks, Mum or Dad, not sure which, but not knowing where I came from didn’t bother me anymore. Not having a heritage allowed some serious invention, and yeah, that was always fun on a night out.

  Azren leapt over a car. I was good but not that good. Adjusting my trajectory to skirt around it, I finally caught a flash of the shadowy figure we were pursuing, and it was fucking huge.

  “Stop in the name of Drako!” The dagger was in Azren’s hand, ready to fling, and then something slammed into his side, knocking him off his feet.

  Not on my watch.

  My shoulder smashed into the figure, knocking it back several steps. The Shedim stumbled and her eyes went wide, but then her hand was around my neck, squeezing. My throat closed up, eyes burning, fingernails raking at skin that seemed to have no give. And then that maw—that horrific razor-filled maw—lunged at my face. There was no air to scream. The world was going black. Dagger, my dagger ... under my skirt, couldn’t reach it.

  The Shedim female was ripped away, and my airway was suddenly free. Sweet, potent oxygen rushed into my lungs. My knees hit the ground, black spots dancing before my eyes. A scuffle and a grunt.

  Had to help. Dagger in hand, I pulled myself up and rushed the grappling demons, intent on taking a slice out of the bitch who’d almost crushed my windpipe.

  “Stay back.” Azren shoved me, sending me skidding across the ground.

  His dagger whistled as it cut through the air, and the woman jerked back just in time to avoid a slice to the chest. She backed up and snapped her wrist, and a glowing whip unfurled with a crack. Azren leapt out of the way, rolled, and came up, bringing the dagger up for a swipe. The woman screamed but was knocked out of the way by another figure before the dagger could bite. Azren made a sound of triumph as the male Shedim vanished in a puff of smoke.

  “No!” The woman’s face contorted in tearful rage, and then the space where she’d been blurred. Azren made another swipe at her with the dagger, but she was gone.

  Colorful words that sounded like curses fell from Azren’s lips. He ran forward, the dagger held aloft, but the pretty glow was gone.

  “You got one, right?” My voice came out as a croak.

  He nodded. “Yes, but one got away and now she will warn the rest.” He set off toward the warehouse. “We have to go back and question Lex. He knows where they are.”

  My throat ached and pinched. “Whoa, wait up. I don’t think he has anything to do with this.”

  He spun to face me. “The dagger was glowing in the club.” He held it aloft. “It doesn’t glow for nothing.”

  “Ookay. That just means there was a Shedim nearby, it doesn’t mean that Lex knew about it.”

  “He recognized what I was.”

  “Because we went face to face with him.”

  He made a sound of exasperation and then gripped me by the shoulders, hauling me off the ground so we were face to face. “Why are you defending him?” His face was too close, that lethal mouth twisted in fury. “Are you working with him? Is this some kind of ploy to stall me?”

  My ire rose, turning my vision crimson at the edges. “Put me the fuck down, or I swear I’ll find a way to hurt you.”

  We remained locked in a battle of wills: his fingers digging into my shoulders, my heels two feet off the ground, gazes locked in a who’s-going-to-blink-first stance, and then he closed his eyes, cutting off the jade glare and letting go of me.

  I hit the dirt, body trembling with the aftershocks of the adrenaline rush. Slowly, deliberately, so as not to buckle, I pulled myself to my feet. “This is what I do. I read people, I solve cases, and we’re wasting our time here. Lex isn’t going to speak to us, and we can’t make him, and you need to calm the fuck down.”

  Azren hung his head, hands on hips. “You think I’m weak. You think he can best me.”

  Was that what this was about? Some kind of pissing contest? “Cut the macho bullshit. This isn’t about weak or strong, it’s about playing it smart. Lex could be an invaluable ally at some point, but not if we piss him off. I understand you want this over. I get that you just want to go home, but we need to be smart about this. Use our heads. This is my name, my reputation on the line. We do
this my way. Got it?”

  He exhaled through his nose, his shoulders heaving as he struggled to rein in his emotions. “So, what do you suggest we do?”

  The snippet of conversation I’d overheard came to mind. “I think we should check the Underground.”

  His brow furrowed.

  “I overheard some woman in the club talking. She mentioned how the Others hide underground ... Maybe the Shedim have the same idea, or maybe one of the Others might have heard something.”

  “You think they’ll speak to us, a neph and a Shedim—one of the people that wish to quarantine them and one of those that has oppressed them in the name of Drako?”

  He had a point. “We don’t have a choice. These rogue Shedim could upset the balance of Arcana, and if the Institute and The Collective find out, then there’ll be a huge purge that will also affect the Others.” I crossed my arms. “It’s in their long-term best interests to help us get rid of the Shedim before the higher authorities discover the truth.”

  “Fine. How do we access this Underground?”

  “We need to head Southside. The stations there are boarded up but not as thoroughly as the ones on East and Northside.”

  We headed away from the warehouse toward Azren’s bike, striding like we meant business, and then my fucking ankle twisted and my heel snapped off. I grabbed Azren’s shoulder to stop myself face-planting onto the tarmac.

  “Shit, my shoe broke.”

  He blinked down at me. “I’ll carry you.”

  The thought of being up close and personal to that demon body right now, the thought of all the contradictory signals my brain and body would fire, made my teeth ache.

  “Why don’t you just go bring the bike around?”

  He studied me with a perplexed frown and then his face cleared and his lips turned down. “I would not have hurt you ... earlier.”

  “Tell that to the bruise on my butt and shoulders.” His harsh, usually don’t-give-a-fuck expression, was replaced with something that was almost contrite. “I’ll wait here while you get the bike.”

  For a moment, it looked like he would argue further, but then he nodded and walked off. Thank goodness, because if he’d offered to carry me again my resolve would have taken a flying leap out the window, especially after the contrition on his face. It had been too long since I’d been held. Too long since I’d been intimate with anyone, and even though relationships weren’t for me, intimacy seemed to be a basic need, like food or water, or tea in my special antique cup. The heel of my shoe was hanging off, and a quick jerk pulled it free. Great, these had been my favorite pair of going-out shoes.

  Voices drifted on the air, gruff and male, and several figures cut across my path. Gooseflesh prickled to life across my skin. Oh, shit. It was the bloody Lupin pack and their crazy alpha Justin. I turned away quickly, but not fast enough. A hand grabbed my hair and yanked me back against a hairy chest, and something else—something knobbly and hard. Urgh.

  “Well, well, what do we have here?” Justin drawled. “The mouthy bitch who thinks she can put me down.”

  A nice heel jab to his foot had him releasing me quick enough, but I was surrounded. The Opal pack circled me, hairy and hungry for violence and other stuff. Yeah, it was a beacon shining out of their yellow eyes and Justin was positively drooling. Fucking hell, why had I left Killion behind? The daggers were to hand, though, strapped under my dress, eager for some action. The hilts fit perfectly in my palms, blades glinting wickedly in the moonlight.

  Justin cracked a grin. “You think you can fend me off with those baby blades?”

  “I think you’re about to get your balls sliced off.”

  He let out a bark of laughter. “Fuck but I like a woman with fire in her belly. If only you’d played nice, but you had to go be a fucking whore about it, so now I’m going to make you bleed.”

  He lunged at me. I ducked and sliced at his side, blade dragging as it made contact. His growl was a thing of fury, and then he swiped at me in full talon mode, snagging my brand new jacket—my beautiful, buttery leather jacket. Rage welled up inside me, but then Justin yelped and pulled his hand back, cradling it to his chest.

  “The fuck? What the fucking fuck!” Spittle flew from his mouth.

  My jacket? I glanced down at it, expecting to see talon-shaped tears, but it was unmarred.

  Justin was staring at me accusingly. “You think an enchantment is gonna save you. Get the jacket off her!”

  Everyone froze for a fraction of a second, as if processing this weird command. It gave me a moment to digest the fact that, even with the blades, I was screwed. But like hell would I go down without getting in a few jabs.

  The freeze frame moment ended, and the Opal pack attacked as one, but they barely made it within ten feet of me before the roar of a bike cut through the night like a bloody symphony. Hope flooded my veins.

  Azren broke through the circle of Lupin like an avenging angel, kicking up dust as he swung the bike round and skidded to a halt. He took in the scene—my disheveled, heaving form, the Lupin ready to attack—and his face contorted into a mask of horrific wrath. The glamour fell away, and there was nothing but the demon swathed in glowing glyphs. His true visage seared my vision. Primal fear clawed at my throat. Okay, it was okay. The big bad was on my side. It was Azren, just Azren, and man, were we about to kick some ass.

  “What the fuck?” One of the Lupin to my left took a step back.

  But Justin, the insane animal, wasn’t fazed. He rushed Azren, knocking him off the bike. The two males tangled—talon and dagger and claw—and the sounds, the growls and grunts, were pure beast.

  “Get the woman!” one of the pack yelled.

  Fuck this shit. I punched the first Lupin in the nose, and sliced open the next one’s cheek, but rough hands grasped my wrists, twisting and forcing the daggers from my grasp. Dammit, why couldn’t they make blades that stuck to your hands? And where the heck were all the clubgoers? You’d think a bloody brawl would attract some viewers. Where the fuck was everyone? My arm came free of my jacket. The fuckers were actually trying to get it off. Like hell they were taking my pretty.

  “Get off me!” Dammit, there were too many of them.

  A roar ripped through the commotion, and the world went still. The hands holding me fell away, and my heart stalled at the sight of the new arrival. A black hound, at least four feet high on all fours, stood on the tarmac, head down, red eyes glowing dangerously.

  Azren slowly climbed off Justin, and the Lupin scrambled back, his eyes wide with horror.

  The black hound took a step toward the Lupin, and they turned and ran. It watched them go for a long beat and then swung its mighty head in my direction. Our gazes locked and my pulse went into overdrive, and then it inclined its head, turned, and padded away into the night.

  “What was that?” Azren asked.

  “Hush. Do you want it to come back and eat us?” My stomach was still quivering with shock.

  “Whatever it was it just saved our lives.” He took a step toward me and stumbled, his hand going to his abdomen.

  I was up in a flash. “You’re hurt.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Like hell. Your shirt is ripped to shreds. You’re bleeding.” I reached out to gingerly touch the wound, and he took a sharp breath.

  “It will heal.” He climbed onto the bike and started the engine.

  He was hurt, and holding on to him was going to be difficult, especially with the wound being on his abdomen.

  “I’m fine. Hold tight.” He kicked the bike into gear and we were off.

  Ten minutes into the drive, my arm was soaked in his blood. “Something’s wrong. You’re still bleeding. We need to stop.”

  He ignored me and continued to drive. My heart beat faster with apprehension. Could he bleed to death? Could he die? And then we were on the slip road leading home, and familiar streets came into view. Man, he was a quick study when it came to the roads, and yep, he was still bleeding. Th
e coppery scent stung my nostrils.

  He brought the bike to a halt outside the house, his booted foot hitting the ground hard to stop the whole thing from toppling onto its side. I slid off, noting the pale pallor of his face and his droopy eyes.

  “We need to get you into the house.” I ducked under his arm, slinging my arm around his waist to support him.

  “I can manage.” But he didn’t try to shrug me off.

  Damn, he was huge, heavy too.

  We made it two steps to the door before I realized just how heavy as his knees gave way, and he hit the ground, taking me with him.

  13

  Thank goodness for burly ghosts, because even though I’d managed to get Azren through the door, there’d have been no way I’d have gotten him upstairs. Gilbert did the honors, but the Shedim hadn’t regained consciousness, and his body was cold to the touch. If not for the shallow rise and fall of his chest, I’d have thought he was dead. Shrugging off my invincible coat, I hung it on a hook on the door.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Trevor asked. “He smells off.”

  “We were attacked.” Perched on the side of his bed, I carefully peeled back the shredded vestiges of his shirt. The bleeding had slowed down, but the torn flesh had taken on a strange green tinge.

  “Gilbert?”

  “I’m sorry, Wila. I’ve never seen anything like this before. I can check the archives.”

  My gut told me there was really no time. “Do it. I need to make a call.” My mobile rang for what seemed like forever before Barnaby picked up. “I need your help. Now.”

  “Wila, what’s wrong?”

  I filled him in as quickly as I could.

  “It sounds like Subzero poisoning, but if the timeline is correct, your friend should be dead by now.”

  Azren’s breathing had become erratic, and my pulse spiked. “He’s not a neph. He’s Shedim.”