by Gena D. Lutz
“After all that drama? I can almost guarantee it.”
***
Thirty minutes, and a stiff whisky sour later, Remy returned as abruptly as he’d left. Nothing about his demeanor was the same. He seemed refreshed. He was even freshly showered, with his still-damp hair pulled back tight and banded. Magic buzzed around him, in a lower frequency than before but it was there, riding just underneath its master’s skin, waiting to be commanded, craving for a chance to be unleashed.
Sonnet set her glass down and raised a brow at the demon king in greeting.
“Are you ready to talk?” she asked.
Remy sauntered over and sat next to her. A cocktail with something red in it was instantly set in front of him. He took a sip, set the glass down, and fixed his piercing eyes on her. “I am.”
Their hands were almost touching, so she pulled hers away and let it drop to her lap. Her body instinctively leaned closer to Bane, who was sitting to her right.
“Do you know where we can find Spiros?” Sonnet asked, not wasting any time.
Remy lit up a cigarette. “I do.”
She sucked in a breath, trying to contain her excitement. “Will you help us then?”
A long stream of smoke snaked from between his lips. “It’s not that simple.”
Her patience was beginning to unravel. “Come on. Is he a friend of yours? Is that why you’re being so closemouthed?”
He gazed right through her. “He’s more than that—not only to me, but to you as well.”
His eyes met hers in a moment of complete sincerity. “He’s our brother.”
There was silence. And then she said, “You son of a bitch.”
Chapter Eleven
My brother?
Words tumbled from Remy’s mouth, but all that Sonnet’s muddled brain could register were those two impossible, ridiculous, no-fucking-way-in-hell words.
“That’s utter bullshit!”
Was she yelling?
“The blood doesn’t lie.”
“What are you even saying?” She shook her head. “The blood doesn’t lie…” She said the last part with a slow, mocking tone.
“Are you just trying to distract us?”
That question came from Bane. His voice entered her mind like cool satin sliding across burning flesh. His control over her psyche was beyond measure. Sonnet was grateful for that.
The demon king simply shook his head.
As Remy began to explain, she listened intently.
“Her blood is the same as mine. She is part demon; her other side is that of a hunter. This also explains why she was exiled as an infant. Hell, I’m surprised our father didn’t have her executed upon first breath.”
Could his ludicrous claim be true? She had to find out, to know for certain.
“Why didn’t you tell her all that the moment you found out?” Bane asked.
“It has been foretold that a hunter will bring ruin to all that demon kind has created. I sat on the information for both of our interests.”
Sonnet actually grinned at that. “Oh, is that all?”
He ignored her and continued. “Phantom City is a living entity built over time by using the power of demon magic. My father’s,” Remy paused and locked gazes with Sonnet while correcting himself, “our father’s blood, along with one other ancient demon’s, was used to draw the runes and symbols that keep the veil between our world and that of human reality tangible. So you see. When our illustrious father caught wind of the prophecy foretold by his soothsayer, being the paranoid believer that he was, he decided to save himself a lot of grief by dispatching his enforcers to hunt down and exterminate your entire species.”
That would explain why Galvin had said an endangered species. Because they almost were, thanks to her…father?
“He sounds charming.”
“Doesn’t he though? Luckily for your people, he is currently rotting in an impenetrable prison in the deepest bowels of demon-hell.”
“Demon-hell?”
“It’s the supernatural version of hell. And also, our homelands.”
That information would take a while for her to wrap her mind around, so she moved on.
“And what of Spiros? How does he fit into all of this?”
“Spiros is the most feared of all the demon royals. As well as a chip off the ol’ block. His power is beyond measure. Only ours can combat it.”
So that’s probably why he wasn’t able to control her when they faced off in the alley. And he seemed pretty pissed off about that fact.
Glossing over that last part, Sonnet asked. “You are king. So what does that make him, a prince?”
Remy nodded. “And it makes you our princess.”
She felt her face warm, her pulse picked up momentum, and she downed the rest of her drink in one gulp.
In all her adolescent years of playing dress up, like most girls, Sonnet always dreamed of being a princess. And it was just her wild and unpredictable luck that when her dreams turned into reality, instead of becoming a beautiful fairy princess all decked out in elegant silks and lace with a dazzling jeweled tiara atop her head, she’d wound up a demon princess who wore blood-stained jeans, leather boots for tearing shit up, and wielding a stake while loaded down with a myriad of weapons.
She shrugged; at least the silver tip of her stake glistened and sparkled underneath the moonlight like a ruby when coated in blood.
And just like that, she found a silver lining and a pet name for her trusty weapon—Ruby. She absently patted the part of her jacket that covered Ruby.
“Well, I can say in all honesty that I’m having a hard time believing all of this.”
Remy raised his hands. “You can choose to believe it or not. It won’t stop it from being true.”
Bane twisted his body so that he was staring Remy straight in the face. “Still, I think you should have told her sooner. You’d think a brother would want to get to know his long-lost sister.”
Sonnet smiled at him. It was apparent that he cared for her very deeply.
Remy shrugged his shoulders. “I have my reasons.”
Short and sweet. What a pain in the ass—a brother making up for lost torture time. How apropos.
She was getting impatient and refused to let up. “So what are we going to do about Spiros dabbling in venom? If what you say is true, I can’t see myself killing my own brother.”
Or could she? Her instincts said no. She’d never be able to live with herself if she did that.
“Perhaps we should capture him and throw him down into the hellhole with your dear old dad.”
Leaning forward, Remy seemed to contemplate Bane’s suggestion. He lit another cigarette, his lips spreading into a smile as he exhaled. “You know. That’s actually not a bad idea. We can capture him the old fashioned way even.”
“Which is?” Bane asked.
“With a demon summoning.” He took another drag. “But we’ll be required to bargain with him.”
At the mention of a bargain, the spot on her wrist where Remy had bit her started to itch. “I’m not giving him my blood.”
He scowled at her. “Of course not, if he drank your blood it would ruin the surprise.”
So Spiros could decipher lineage by drinking another’s life blood; interesting. It made Sonnet wonder if she had the same abilities as her demon brothers. She’d already drank Bane’s blood a few times, and all she’d gotten was a rush. Hmm…maybe the magic only worked on demons.
“So other than the bargain, are there any other rules we need to follow when summoning a demon?” Sonnet asked.
Remy stood. “Why don’t you let me worry about the details? Meet me back here before midnight.”
It was a good plan, she supposed. And if she wanted to bag the bad guy, she didn’t have a choice but to play along. Remy was holding all the cards, after all.
“Okay.”
With a burst of wind, he was gone.
Sonnet’s head was reeling. She tried to shake off t
he effects and stood. Her hand jumped to the bar rail for support. Deep in her gut, she knew that things were screwed sideways. How could they not be when a hunt for a drug dealer escalated into a demon summoning? And a little bloodletting had gained her two demon brothers and a deadbeat father sequestered in hell.
It was times like these when she thought it’d be better just to walk away. But this was the kind of fucked-up shit that wouldn’t let her go ’til she saw it through to its end.
***
Sonnet walked carefully down the stairs leading to Nightshade’s underground chambers. The style was novelty-vampire, with several coffins pushed up against stone walls. It was exactly the kind of space you’d expect to find when imagining a demonic ritual.
In the middle of the room stood Remy, dagger in one hand with a box of what looked to be salt or sugar in the other. He tipped the box to allow white granules to spill out, the flood filling in deeply etched grooves that stretched out in the shape of an encircled pentagram. He’d been busy since last she saw him.
Remy paused in the midst of preparation. “I’m almost finished,” he said flatly. “Are you ready to catch a demon?”
She nodded her head. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”
“Let’s do this,” Bane said, entering the room. He walked over to stand next to Sonnet, who was standing next to the entrance, about five feet away from Remy and the circle.
Remy cast them a pensive look while tossing the box aside. With his hand now empty, she noticed a cotton bandage, seeped with blood, wrapped around his palm.
In the next moment, power surged around them, followed by a popping sound and a blinding flash.
Blinking her vision back to life, Sonnet half expected to find Spiros in the circle, but instead, another entity, with alabaster skin and pitch-black eyes, stood just outside of it, next to Remy. A smell hit her then. It was of freshly cut green apples.
The pale demon turned her extremely long neck, the movement sending her long curly red hair spilling across her thin back; she smiled over protruding shoulder blades at Sonnet, baring four tiny fangs—two on top and two on bottom. Her black irises flashed to white, and then after a few seconds, they were black again in what seemed to be a cycle of dark and light.
“Hello, princess. It’s an honor to finally meet you.”
Sonnet took a deep breathe, let it out slowly. She didn’t know what to say to that, so she grinned back awkwardly.
A cautious look passed over Bane’s face. “Who is she?”
“Her name is Torrent, an Elemental demon, and she’s our all-access pass into the lower levels, without having to physically go there.” He shot an impatient look over to Torrent. “Did you bring everything we’ll need?”
She reached down into a bag that sat open at her feet. “I did.” Pulling out a squat jar filled with something black, she said, “I just need to open a channel. Have you drenched the salt with your blood?”
“Open a channel?” Sonnet asked.
Torrent looked at her as if the answer to the question was obvious. “I command spirit energy. I don’t command demons.”
She didn’t control them, but Remy did. So it made sense to use his blood.
Remy crouched at the edge of the circle, stripping the soiled bandage from his hand and revealing a wound across his palm. It was deep, the flesh there raggedly torn, making it look as if the cut had been hastily made. Fresh blood welled. He tipped his hand facedown to allow the crimson liquid to drip freely inside the circle. With each drop, the blood sizzled on impact, releasing smoke that smelled of charcoal and steam.
At the same time, Torrent dipped her index finger inside the jar, coating half of it with the dark liquid. Jar in hand, she strolled over to a wall on the opposite side of where Sonnet stood, and began to draw symbols on its surface.
Blush-colored lips parted. “Even though it’s unlikely we’ll need these ancient runes, they will provide for all in attendance an extra layer of protection. Just in case the unthinkable happens and Spiros escapes.”
Sonnet nodded at the artwork being created on the wall in looped embellishments—a magical graffiti—with a sense of relief. If they’d keep her safe, then those runes were a good thing. She made her way over to Remy, knelt next to him and winced; the cut on his hand looked like it had hurt.
Watching the demon, with his raven hair that matched her own, and his normally smooth features scrunched up in concentration, she couldn’t help but notice that the tension she normally felt around him had lessened since she’d found out what he was to her. Normally, she wasn’t the gushy, feel-good type, but a secret yearning from deep within her had surfaced with the revelation that she had family. It made her feel sort of…relieved.
She’d never been able to claim blood relatives before. So what if they were demons? She was a hunter, not such a far stretch. And then there was the old adage that stated so aptly, “You can choose your friends and lovers, but you can't choose your family”.
“Why did you agree to help me take down our brother?”
The question surprised her; she wasn’t aware that she’d been thinking it, let alone about to say such a thing. He’s helping. Be grateful. Leave it at that. But she never left well enough alone.
Power—not the kind of magic that could lift cars or persuade a person to crave blood, but the natural type of power that fused souls together—passed between them as Remy turned and locked gazes with her. “Just because we are demons doesn’t mean we’re all evil. I sent my father away for terrorizing a city he was charged with protecting. So I have no qualms about doing the same to Spiros.”
So Remy was her demon brother who played for the good guys? She thought back to when she’d first lain eyes on him. He’d scared the ever-lovin’ crap out of her. His presence and power had been massive. With a temper that seemed just as great.
“So you just took my word for it then? What if he’s innocent?”
There went her big mouth again.
The look on Remi’s face answered her question, but he still said, “Do you think I’d send my brother into the lower levels of hell just because you said so? That’s stupid, Sonnet.” He shook his head as he rewrapped the bandage around his hand. “I did a little investigating of my own.”
“You saw him with the venom?”
He nodded. “I saw that and more. He’s holding vampires prisoner, keeping a fresh supply of product on hand.”
She’d already known that.
“How did you gather your intel? You were only gone for thirty minutes or so.”
“I can go anywhere I please in this city with just a thought,” he explained. “No door is locked to me. Our blood fuels all places here, remember?”
She considered what he said. Did that mean she could pass through Phantom City so freely as well? They did share the same blood, even if by half.
Torrent cleared her throat impatiently. “Are we ready to begin?”
Remy nodded as more of his blood was distributed around the circle. This time, it traveled on its own to comingle with the salt that filled in the furrows. “It is time.”
Torrent lifted her arms. They were long and white, skinny without any real muscle mass to them, but as soon as she began to chant they blazed with strength. Blue bolts of power shot throughout her outstretched limbs, cerulean streaks that rode just underneath her alabaster flesh. She instantly took control of the wild magic, channeling it as it built in strength. Then the magic materialized as storm-filled orbs that rotated, hovering menacingly over her palms.
Cold air rushed past Sonnet’s face, taking her breath with it. It stabbed at her eyes, forcing them to shut. Bane put his hands against her shoulders for support as the storm built in intensity. Each time she caught a breath, another cold blast would snatch it from her lungs. She had to force her eyes to stay open.
A shimmering blast of gray and black smoke began to tunnel like a tornado within the heart of the circle. Then, with a reverberating crash, a man stood at its center
, staring down at his hands. His black hair swirled around him, a creepy expression slashed across his features.
His voice boomed, magnified by the cavernous room, as soon as the energy swell lessened. “What is going on? Who the fuck had the balls to summon me?”
Sonnet could barely see anything; the summoning had blown out the candles and popped any light bulbs illuminating the space. A copper scent, metallic and strong, filled her nostrils. Tingles surged down her spine as she took a few steps back and away from the pentagram.
“Don’t worry. As long as the circle isn’t broken, he can’t get to you,” Bane assured her.
Sonnet looked up at him. “I like the view from back here better, if it’s all the same.”
She was quickly learning that being cocky and unsafe equaled dead. So space was a good thing.
“You’ve been up to no good, brother. I warned you what would happen if you stepped out of line again,” Remy remarked.
The darkness lifted as soon as Torrent lit the sconce above her, and then, as if by magic, she melted into the shadows, removing herself completely from view.
It didn’t take long for Sonnet and Spiros to lock gazes through the amber glow of candlelight. He rolled back his shoulders and his fingers flexed into fists at his sides.
“So it’s you? Little Miss Troublemaker.” His lips spread into a devious grin. “I can’t say that I’m surprised.” His eyes slowly moved to Remy. “How on earth did you turn my dear older brother against me? You must be one hell of a good lay for him to betray his own blood.”
Sonnet’s expression soured at the thought of doing anything remotely sexual with Remy. Even before she’d found out they were related, her newfound brother had elicited apprehension and fear from her, never anything else—let alone lust. Her stomach turned.
Pissed off about being enslaved or not, Spiros caught the revulsion. He cocked a brow. “Have I sickened you? That’s odd. Most women find my brother irresistible.”
She could only stare at him. After all, he’d read her correctly.