Shattered Promises (Shattered Promises, #1)

by Jessica Sorensen

  Lights blink against the blackness of the night in vibrant colors and giant billboards light up the sides of the road. In the distance, where the hills fade out, buildings stretch toward the sky. I sit quietly, craning my neck from left to right to take it all in. Everything’s so flashy and shocking. The shock only grows when we reach the heart of the city, where the sidewalks become packed with mobs of people and the air buzzes with excitement. There are people dressed in costumes; drinking, laughing and I even see one man strip off his clothes.

  I pinch my arm to make sure I’m not dreaming and wince from the sting I undeniably feel. “Holy shit.”

  Alex tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear and whispers, “What? Did you think you were dreaming?”

  I rub my arm. “Maybe. It wouldn’t be the first time I wasn’t sure if I was awake or not.”

  He gives me a strange look. “What do you mean?”

  I shrug and fix my gaze on a man dressed as a gladiator, handing out flyers to pedestrians. “I mean exactly what I said—sometimes I can’t tell what’s happening in real life and what’s just a dream.”

  “How long has this been going on?”

  “For most of my life. Or, well, since I started feeling, which, to me, was kind of the beginning of my life.”

  He looks at me and, I mean, really looks at me as if I’m really a person and not a star or a strange girl. “What kinds of dreams? Were they the one’s with the Death Walkers?”

  I nod. “Yeah, the Death Walkers were in some of them. And you.” And sometimes Laylen.

  The lights from the street mirror in his eyes. “And what was I doing in these dreams?”

  “Umm…” Thankfully it’s dark because I’m pretty sure my cheeks are bright red. “Stuff.”

  It doesn’t take him very long to catch on. “Oh.” His forehead scrunches and he covers his mouth, then puts his hand on his lap; uncertain of what to do with himself.

  After that, it gets quiet. I would feel stupid, but I have bigger problems to worry about than Alex thinking I’m a pervert. I focus on the scenery; a glass pyramid, a giant pirate ship and a small replica of the Eiffel Tower. At the end of the taller buildings, Laylen veers to the right and the lights fade with the crowd. The buildings shrink into smaller, worn out houses and the gutters lining the streets are littered with garbage and cigarette butts. When we pass a corner where a group of people are shuffling around, beating the shit out of each other, Aislin locks her door.

  “You do realize it’s almost one o’clock?” Aislin informs Laylen as she checks her watch.

  Laylen flips the signal light on. “Yeah, so? You do realize that this is Vegas, right? Most places stay open all night.”

  “Yeah, but the later it is, the more the weirdoes are going to be out and about.” She adjusts the strap of her dress, which has slipped off her shoulder.

  “Weirdoes make the world interesting.” He flashes a smile at her as he parks the car up against the curb.

  She shakes her head and tries not to smile. “That’s a great way to look at things.”

  Surrounding the car are abandoned buildings. The windows are boarded up and there are no lights on inside any of them. The only proof of human existence is a guy wearing a black hooded jacket, cargo pants and army boots, who scurries down a dark alley when he sees us.

  Laylen silences the engine and the radio, and then shuts the lights off. It gets quiet and very dark.

  “Are you okay?” Alex asks and his low voice sends vibrations along my skin. “You look freaked out.”

  “I’m fine,” I lie, clicking my seatbelt loose. “I’ve been chased by a pack of Death Walkers for crying out loud. It can’t get much worse than that.”

  “Yeah, it can, Gemma. Things can get a lot worse,” he states definitively.

  I’m not sure if he’s trying to scare me, but he is making me uneasy. “Like how?”

  “Don’t worry,” he says in a husky voice. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “You say that all the time,” I state quietly. “And I’m starting to wonder just how bad things are; how much protection you think I need.”

  He keeps his lips close to my earlobe. “It’s not about things being bad. It’s about me making a promise.”

  I tilt my head a little and my cheek touches his lips, but he doesn’t move. “I reiterate, sometimes it feels like you’re speaking in code.”

  Aislin clears her throat. “Um, guys? I think we should go in and get this over with.”

  Her voice breaks the connection and we both move away from each other; Alex returns to the other side of the car.

  Aislin surveys the buildings. “So what’s the game plan? Just go into the place and get the stuff? Where is the Wicca shop anyway, because these places all look abandoned?” When Laylen stares silently out the window, Aislin rotates in the seat to face him. “Laylen, did you hear me?”

  He lowers his hand from his lip ring and mutters, “The Wicca shop isn’t inside any of these buildings.”

  “What do you mean; it’s in none of them?” Alex asks. “What the fuck’s going on?”

  Laylen vacillates. “I needed to stop here first before we go and pick up the crystal.”

  There’s a split second where I can feel the heat of hell breaking loose and then Alex scoots forward in his seat. Even though his movements are slow, they’re full of warning. “I thought we all agreed no extra stops.” His voice is so controlled it sends a chill down my spine.

  Laylen slides the keys out of the ignition and keeps his voice unvarying. “Before you start getting your panties up in a bunch, hear me out. Trust me; you’ll want what’s here.”

  “Trust you?” Alex lets out a cynical laugh. “Are you kidding me? I already trusted you and look where it got us.”

  Laylen thrums his fingers on top of the steering wheel. “The Sword of Immortality is here…” He points at the closest building. “At the Black Dungeon.”

  Alex balls his hands into fists and a vein in his neck bulges. “And why is it at the Black Dungeon?”

  “I lost it during a poker game a few months ago,” Laylen answers evenly. “I thought I had an unbeatable hand. Turns out, I didn’t.”

  “So, let me get this straight.” Alex is livid. “You stole it from the Keepers just so you could lose it in a poker game.”

  “I stole it for a good reason,” Laylen replies. “I didn’t want to leave it in the Keepers’ hands after I became immortal. You guys made it very clear about your feelings for me when I changed.”

  “We wouldn’t kill you.” Aislin presses her hand to her chest, flabbergasted. “Laylen, how could you ever think that?”

  “Because it’s the truth,” he says simply, not meeting her eyes, instead he’s staring at the street sign.

  Silence takes over. Dogs howl in the distance. Tension pollutes the air. It’s at that moment that I realize just how out of the loop I am. They have history, they understand the secrets of the world; the one’s no one believes in because believing in them is too terrifying for the average person.

  “I’m sorry, but what exactly is the Sword of Immortality?” I finally dare to speak.

  “Exactly what it sounds like—a sword that can kill an immortal,” Alex says, tapping his fingers restlessly against the console. “And it would have been really useful back at the cabin. Then maybe we’d have been able to kill a few Death Walkers, instead of running like a bunch of pussies.”

  My fingers curl around the edge of the seat and my nails dig into the leather. “So, right now, at this very moment, if the Death Walkers show up, we can’t kill them?”

  “All we can do is run.” He pauses and I can hear the fury lacing each huff of his breath. “So what’s the big plan, Laylen? Because now that I know it’s up there, there’s no way we’re walking away until we have it.”

  “I haven’t really gotten that far.” Laylen points at a two-story brick building with a crooked rain gutter and a rickety sign on the roof. “All I know is
that it’s up on the second floor, in a secured display case.” He glances at Aislin. “A display case secured by black magic.”

  “Black magic’s not my specialty,” Aislin utters softly. “You know that.”

  Laylen holds her gaze. “Do I?”

  She nods and averts her eyes to the window. “You know my father would never allow it.”

  He reaches over and delicately touches her arm and I see a glimpse of their history; the ones in the pictures. “I’m sure, if you think really hard, you can figure out a spell that would get us in.”

  She’s quiet for a while and when she speaks, her voice is barely audible. “I could do an effrego alica. It’ll remove the Black magic around the case long enough for us to break it, but, if there are alarms…” She looks at Laylen with sadness in her eyes as she draws her arm away from his hand. “That I can’t help.”

  Laylen pulls his hand away and rests it on top of the shifter. He looks even sadder, if that’s possible. “If there are alarms, then we’ll run.”

  Alex shakes his head. “That’s the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard. Besides, how are you going to even get up there? From what I can remember, there are guards all over the bottom floor and the stairway, which is the only way up to the second floor, without flying.”

  “I’ll pretend that I’m going upstairs to feed off Aislin,” Laylen says flatly. “It’s the only reason they let people up there.”

  “And what if one of the guards or someone like Draven goes up there?” Alex asks in a clipped tone. “Then what?”

  “Who’s Draven?” I wonder. “And what the hell is in this Black Dungeon?”

  “Lots and lots of evil,” Alex mutters as his gaze traces the lines of the nearby buildings.

  “Draven is the owner of the club,” Laylen explains, staring off in deep thought. “And someone will have to stand at the bottom of the stairway… You and Gemma can do that and send a text if something is about to walk up. I’ll go up with Aislin and stand guard at the entrance of the room. I’m more than capable of protecting her.”

  “And then what? You hide? Run?” He frowns. “There’s only one way out of there.”

  “Look, I’m not the one who is in desperate need to get the sword back,” Laylen points out. “We can either leave, Aislin and I can go in blind and try to get the sword, or we can all go in and watch each other’s backs and have a better chance at getting in and out undetected.”

  “We need that sword.” Alex flops back in the seat, bumping my shoulder. “And what about Gemma? She’s going to stand out like a sore thumb down in that crowd.”

  I run my hands along the front of the dress. “I thought you guys said this would help me blend in?”

  Alex shakes his head. “You’re innocence is written all over you; they’ll eat you up.”

  “Literally?” My voice cracks.

  His gaze slides to me and he analyzes me through hooded eyes. “It depends on what literal we’re talking about, but to clarify, I mean they’re going to want to get their hands and teeth all over you.”

  I don’t know what to say to that, so I keep quiet.

  “She could pretend she’s one of them,” Aislin suggests. “And you know how they view Black Angels that aren’t locked up—they’re like goddesses to the Immortal.”

  “She can’t pull it off,” Alex states bluntly. “She’s too reserved and weak.”

  I slug him in the upper arm. Not to prove a point, but because he’s pissed me off. “I’m not weak. I’ve put up with a lot of shit over my lifetime.”

  He winces a little and then his fingers cover his arm. He scans up my legs, my dress, my neck and lips, finally stopping at my eyes. “You really think you can go in there and pretend like you’re a powerful, domineering, Angel from hell.”

  I nod, even though doubt floods my body. “Yes.”

  It is such a lie, but he buys it. Or maybe he just decides not to care so much about me and care more about the sword. “Fine. We’ll hang out on the bottom floor in the club area, next to the stairway. Aislin and Laylen you’ll go up and get the Goddamn sword.” Laylen starts to open the door when Alex reaches forward and snags the collar of his shirt. His eyes go dark and his voice comes out in a low growl. “If you’re up to something, I’ll get the sword myself and use it on you.”

  Aislin’s eyes widen and so do mine. Laylen stares at Alex inexpressively and then nods his head once. Only then, does Alex release him. As I climb out of the car, I know I’m in over my head. Vampires. Witches. Werewolves. Hell’s Angels. No matter how many supernatural books I’ve read, it’s a hell of a lot different than real life.

  ***

  The moon illuminates against the alley and lights up the puddles on the ground. The air reeks of mold and wet dogs, and the garbage cans ooze filth onto the ground that crunches beneath my shoes.

  Laylen stops in front of a rusty door at the back end of a warehouse and holds his fist to the door. “Is everyone ready for this?”

  “Probably not.” Alex gestures his hand at the door. “But let’s get it over with.”

  Laylen lets his hand fall against the door. A couple of seconds later a small flap at the top of the door glides open and a pair of dark eyes peer out. “What’s the password?”

  Laylen elevates his forearm up to the flap. The flap slips shut and is followed by the sounds of several locks clicking. The hinges creak as the door swings open. Behind it is a man shorter than me with bony arms and greasy black hair. He’s dressed in black jeans, a jacket and across his neck is the same tattoo as Laylen has on his arm.

  “What does that mark mean on his neck,” I whisper to Alex.

  He leans toward me, keeping his voice low and his arms crossed over his chest. “It’s the Mark of Immortality.”

  I’m shocked, but I know I have to remain centered. I’m supposed to be in control, strong, and dominant. I straighten my posture and cross my arms, like I’m the toughest girl… Angel in the world.

  Laylen greets the man by nodding once. “Doug. How’s it going, man?”

  Doug mutters an unfriendly, “It’s goin’ good. Haven’t seen you in a while.” He takes the three of us in with a skeptical look. “Who are they?”

  Laylen plays it cool with his gaze steadfast on Doug. “They’re with me.”

  Doug raises an accusing eyebrow. “They got the mark.”

  Laylen braces his arm against the wall. “Look, I know you let people in here without the mark. In fact, there’s a feeding ground upstairs.”

  Feeding ground. I’m definitely in over my head. Alex must have sense my apprehension, too, because he laces his fingers with mine.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Doug steps back inside and starts to shut the door.

  Laylen sticks his hand out and slams his palm against the door, holding it open. “You can’t have double standards Doug. I know you let mortals in.”

  Doug narrows his eyes. “Let go of the fucking door, before I break your arm off.”

  I start to laugh because the idea of a tiny man like Doug breaking Laylen’s arm off seems ludicrous, but I stop when Laylen lowers his arm swiftly and darts back. Doug begins to shut the door again when Aislin marches forward.

  “Somno iam!” she exclaims as her arm snaps out in front of her.

  Doug groans as he clutches at his heart and then his eyes roll back into his head. “You…” His body goes rigid, his shoulders jerk upward and his knees lock. His body aligns in a perfectly straight line before he falls backward and hits the floor.

  Aislin lowers her hand back to the side and a huge grin expands across her face. “See, we’re going to be okay.”

  Laylen nods his head and his eyes widen. “Well, alright, I guess that works.”

  Aislin hops over the unconscious Doug and Laylen follows after her. When he is inside, he bends down and hooks his arms underneath Doug’s. Then, with a grunt, he drags him inside and Alex and I walk freely through the doorway. Once we are all in, Laylen slams the door
and fastens the locks.

  “Okay,” Laylen says and heads toward a brick archway on the other side of the room. “Let’s make this quick before someone either finds him or he wakes up.”

  We walk down a slender hallway extending from the archway, Laylen and Aislin in front, Alex and I in the back. I notice the metal lanterns that hang on the stone walls have the Immortality mark on them. I’m catching on that this is an all-exclusive Immortal club with a feeding ground upstairs, but, even with that concept, nothing could ever prepare me for what I walk into.

  At the end of the hall, the area opens up into a large, but crowded room. Lanterns dangle from the ceiling, fueled by fire, not electricity. The red ceiling lights sparkle across the marble floor and there’s a balcony above with a spiral staircase twisting up to it and connecting the two floors. That’s the easy part to take in. It’s the lower half that is intense.

  There’s a dance floor in the middle of the room and it’s crammed with people, swaying hypnotically to the low beat of Deftones “Change.” They’re tall, short, fat, and thin; some have pale skin and other’s scaly skin. There are fangs coming out of people’s mouth and fur growing on their bodies. They are touching each other, drinking; some are half naked, shirts off, wearing clothes that barely cover any skin.

  In each of the four corners of the room, there are life-size, iron-rod birdcages. Trapped inside the cages are the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. Their legs are extensive, their skin smooth and their lips a pale blue. Black-feathered wings sprout from their shoulder blades and a whip curls up their arms. Each has a black leather dress on that resembles mine and their hair is as black as ash. They are twirling around a pole in the center of the cage and with each movement, I feel a pull towards them; they are hypnotic. Several people around the room seem mesmerized by them, like they feel the pull too.

  “They’re Black Angels,” I say over the music as I turn to Alex. I’m surprised to find that he’s watching me intently. “Aren’t they?”

  He nods once. “They are.”

  I peer over my shoulder. “I don’t know why you guys think I look like them. They have wings and they move so confidently, like they own everyone. They’re so… beautiful.”