by R. Scarlett
“Fine,” she hissed. “Then if you’d be so kind as to deliver him a message.” It didn’t take more than a second for her to channel an extra surge of her power, loop both hands around his arm, and—snap.
His eyes rolled back as he whimpered in agony.
Molly stepped away, giving the hunter some space. “Tell him to stop sending men after me. Tell him to stop hiding his face.”
The man slumped, cradling his now-broken arm. It was a clean break at least; she’d been more lenient than usual.
“You’re siding with demons,” he huffed, one eye already swelling shut from their scuffle.
Molly licked a drop of blood from her top lip then spat. “I am.”
By the time she got home, she couldn’t stop shaking, nerves and anxiety eating her up inside. She was thankful September wasn’t there—her best friend had been picking up a lot of extra shifts to help with their mounting bills.
“I need a shower,” Molly said, throwing her bloodied clothes in the hamper.
She was nineteen, but she felt like she was a hundred years old, like she’d seen and done a century’s worth of horrible things.
Molly tried not to focus on the recent activities she’d engaged in since Tensley had re-entered her life over a month prior, but when she was dead tired like this, it was too hard to block them all out.
She could remember the sound of every single bone she’d broken. The smell of every single drop of blood she’d drawn from hunters and demons.
The image she’d had the hardest time forgetting was her first kill: a starved, tortured demon, one with unexpectedly kind eyes and strawberry blond hair. “He was trying to kill me,” Molly continued out loud, tiptoeing into her bathroom and splashing her blood-drenched face with tepid water.
It wasn’t true, though; yes, the demon had gone after her in the forest, the other hunters laughing among the trees, begging for a show—but if she was being totally honest, he’d only been asking for mercy when she buried that blade deep in his chest.
She never wanted to kill someone ever again.
As Molly glanced up at her reflection, at the droplets of watery red streaking down her cheeks, she froze.
She was looking at the new Molly Darling—the true Molly Darling.
And she was a monster.
TENSLEY GLARED AT each dented, graffiti-laden apartment door before him. The hallway had a flattened path of carpet that had probably been green when installed, but was now a shade of shit-brown that made him cringe.
“How the fuck does he live here?” Tensley muttered, avoiding a used condom discarded in the middle of the walkway, and farther down a large, rust-colored smear of brown—dried blood, no doubt.
Illya Black was living in a fucking battle zone of the desperate and deadly—demons either cast off for being too dangerous for the High Court, or those born into a low-class family.
Tensley stopped in front of a faded green door and rapped his knuckles twice on its hollowed surface; it was a formality, because he could just break the damn thing down if he wanted to.
Illya opened the door, bluish circles of exhaustion discoloring the skin on either side of his nose. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Tensley said dryly, stepping inside the cramped entrance. Illya and his mother didn’t have much, but the space was so small that the little amount of belongings they owned took up the area.
Everything was open concept, from the outdated, tiny kitchen where the taps froze in the wintertime to the living room where Illya normally slept on a pullout couch.
“How’s your mom doing today?” Tensley asked.
Illya rubbed the back of his neck. “Better, kept her breakfast down. She’s resting in her room.”
Tensley pulled out a packet of belladonna. “I’ve tested it myself. It’s not tampered with.”
Illya’s eyes widened. “Tensley, I don’t have the money—”
“I’m not charging you.”
Illya’s shoulders dropped and he slowly took the drug. “I don’t know how I’ll repay you for this.”
Tensley eyed the apartment again, careful to keep his face from showing what he thought about the ceiling’s water damage, the undeniable stench of a dead rodent within the apartment’s walls. “Not needed, Illya.” You already live in hell.
“Illya?” Mrs. Black called weakly from her bedroom.
“Do you want to see her?” Illya asked, moving to the open door.
Tensley rubbed his fingers along his open palm and nodded after a moment. “Sure.” He followed Illya into the small bedroom, a single bed the room’s only furniture.
Illya’s mother was propped up on a few pillows, and she tried to smile when Tensley entered. Her skin was frighteningly pale, red-blonde hair frayed and thin. “Tensley, it’s good to see—” She started coughing, covering her mouth with a hand. “S-Sorry, it’s g-good to see you.”
Tensley didn’t say anything when her hand came away sprayed with red, and she hurriedly wiped it on the thin sheet.
“He brought you some belladonna,” Illya said cheerily, sitting on the edge of her bed and opening the packet of gray powder.
“W-What?” Mrs. Black’s sunken eyes shifted from Tensley to Illya.
“It’s safe,” Tensley said, noting her hesitation. “I’ve tested it myself.”
She smiled and scooped a tiny amount into her mouth, letting it absorb on her tongue. Soon her rigid muscles relaxed, and she sank back into the pillows with a sigh.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “There are no words to express how grateful I am for your enduring kindness to my son and me.”
“Mother, you should rest,” Illya said, leaning down to kiss her temple. Tensley shuffled uncomfortably at the affectionate exchange; it was something he was never allowed to do as a member of the High Court. Too many prying eyes.
Illya and Tensley left the room, Illya shutting the door softly behind them.
“We’ll find the bastard who sold your mother that tainted belladonna, Illya, and they will pay,” Tensley said once the handle had clicked and he was sure Mrs. Black couldn’t hear them.
“I’m not a member of Scorpios, Tensley. No one’s going to help me,” Illya said softly, his tone indicating he was beneath the Scorpios, beneath Tensley.
“You are to me, Illya. You’re part of this family, and family always comes first,” he said, determination clear in his voice. “Don’t act as if you are below all of us.”
Illya nodded weakly. He sighed, exhaustion clear on his features. “How’s everything with Molly?”
“Fucking difficult,” Tensley muttered, glaring at the boxes of cheap cereal lined up along the kitchen counter. “My demon side wants to mark her.”
Illya’s brows shot up. “Oh—that’s good, though. Does she want it?”
“Yeah, but the beast, the demon side of me, is driving me insane. It doesn’t just stop there. He wants her marked and pregnant,” he bit out.
“Because he wants her?” Illya asked, confusion in his tone.
Tensley ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “I don’t pretend to understand the beast at this point. He feels threatened by any other males. He’d probably get moody even if you were talking to her. Hell, he’d probably get moody if you so much as looked at her too long.” He laughed softly at the ridiculousness of the situation. “I really don’t know how to deal with him anymore. It’s getting harder and harder every day. Molly’s not going anywhere, so I need to find a way around this. I need to control myself or this will end badly.”
“Does she want that?” Illya asked, pensively.
“Does she want what?” Tensley asked, irritated at the situation.
“To be marked and pregnant, by you?” he said.
“Sometimes I feel like she does. Other times, I’m not so sure. She’s confusing as hell.”
“Why don’t you just ask her?” Illya asked after a few beats of silence.
“The situation just never presents itself.”
“M
ake it present itself,” Illya said with a teasing smile before glancing back at his mother’s closed door when she started coughing again.
“Let me know if you need any more belladonna. Any update on her illness?” Tensley said, his chest aching for the Blacks.
Illya shook his head. “It’s getting worse; the cancer’s spread to her lungs. Belladonna’s the only way to help her now.”
When Mrs. Black passed away, Illya would have no other blood relatives, and Tensley silently promised to make an even bigger effort to reach out to him when that happened. “I’ll call you tomorrow after the Ares meeting,” he said, patting Illya on the arm. “Hopefully I leave without anyone’s blood on my hands.”
Illya chuckled, showing Tensley out. “Good luck with that.”
Tensley marched down the hallway, passing a woman vomiting into her purse on the way.
Just as he left the apartment complex, a familiar-looking man sitting on the stoop caught his attention. The man lifted a cigarette to his lips as Tensley studied him, blowing a trail of white smoke into Tensley’s face.
“Beau,” Tensley finally said, stuffing his hands into his pockets and widening his stance as he looked down at the man.
“Little brother,” Beau answered, just as coldly. His dark hair was smoothed back, those brown eyes appearing darker than ever. “Visiting that low-born friend of yours?”
Tensley didn’t respond, gaze fixated on the many faded red scars along his brother’s cheekbones. Too many fights, too much blood spilled in the career Beau lived. He did the dirty work for Scorpios, a lone soldier who policed the low-class and kept them from causing any disruption in the High Court members’ perfect little lives.
It didn’t surprise Tensley that Beau would be wandering a borough of the Bronx like this one since it mainly housed all the low-born, including Illya and his mother. What did surprise him was Beau’s uncanny timing. Had he been following Tensley?
“Never found a trace of those hunters,” Beau added after a long silence between them.
“Guess we have nothing to discuss then,” Tensley said, beginning to walk away.
“Did get a glimpse of that delicious fiancée of yours, though,” Beau hollered after him.
Tensley’s back seized and he growled in his throat, letting his aggressive pheromones leak out and whip across Beau’s skin.
Beau laughed robotically at his back. “Touchy about her?”
Tensley turned to face his older brother, the beast within aching to take control and maul him. “Stay away from her.”
Beau smirked. “Ooh, if you’re responding that aggressively, you can’t have marked her yet. Interesting. She must really be something if she’s stirred the beast.”
“I’m warning you to stay away,” Tensley hissed.
Beau sucked at his cigarette, the end glowing red. “We’ll see.” He threw the butt on the ground and twisted it under his boot before rising and heading in the opposite direction. “Always good to see you, little brother.”
“DON’T LOOK SO surprised to see us,” Tina said, frowning down at Molly.
Molly scooted over on one of Central Park’s many benches and stared at the fruit salad Tina had just handed her—a true feat for the girl who didn’t even know how to use a coffeemaker. Molly took the adjoining fork and ate a grape, chewing tiredly and running a hand over her face.
“Don’t do that! You’ll smear your makeup,” Stella scolded, swatting Molly’s wrist.
Molly groaned and stared at the black streak on her hand; before she could do anything, Stella was already dabbing the mark with a tissue. As annoyingly petty as her friends acted most of the time, Molly had to admit she was happy to see them.
“Okay—okay, stop. I’m fine,” Molly said, wincing when Stella accidentally grazed her bruised nose; Molly had piled on an obscene amount of foundation to cover the purple marks under her eyes and along her nostrils from that douche demon hunter’s head-butt.
“You look awful,” Tina said, frowning worriedly as she shoved a massive cup of frothy liquid between Molly’s hands. “Here, drink my latte. You need it more than me.”
Molly deadpanned, “Thanks, but I’m fine.”
“What’s wrong? Is work too much?” Stella questioned, eyes widening under her large sunhat. “Just tell us. You’re scaring me. First you sell your to-die-for shoe collection, and now you’re walking around like a zombie that’s lost its appetite.”
Molly swallowed. As much as she wanted to tell herself she’d been keeping it together, Stella kept hovering around her like a concerned grandmother in the weeks since Abaddon’s death. It was almost as if she knew the danger Molly was in, even with no actual comprehension of the demon underworld.
“I’m not hungry.” Molly passed the container of glistening, fresh fruit to Tina and sat back, laying a forearm over her eyes.
“Maybe we should go out tonight!” Tina giggled, the trilling sound eating away at Molly’s hotwired nerves.
“No.”
Tina tapped her manicured nail on Molly’s bare skin. “Oh c’mon, you seem so down and I hate when that happens. You’re always with Tensley lately—let us have a night for once. Then you can go right back to your animalistic sex.”
Molly lifted a brow. “Animalistic?”
Tina smirked. “That man is all beast, Molly. I don’t know if he has a gentle bone in his body. You’re so lucky—you get the sex, the man, the love. I want that.” A pout took over her pink-lacquered lips and she nudged Molly’s thigh. “Please give me the details. I’m in a dry season.”
Stella frowned. “You slept with Arnold Adams last Wednesday.”
Tina swung one too-thin leg over the other. “It was royally awful. He didn’t even last more than ten minutes, so disappointing. Plus, I’m tired of flings. I want to cuddle up with someone who’s my friend after some mind-blowing sex. Hooking up is overrated. ” Tina adjusted her designer sunglasses as a slow smile emerged. “Does Tensley have any brothers? Friends?”
Molly tensed at the question. “No. Tensley’s an only child.” And—as much as September wanted to deny it—Molly was pretty sure Illya was taken.
Tina slumped and tapped her foot in the grass. “Where is he?! God, I’m gonna be thirty and single and you’ll both have handsome husbands and cute babies and fantastic jobs and I’ll be toothless.”
Stella burst out laughing. “Why on Earth would you be toothless?!”
“Because my family has the worst teeth ever! My father’s had dentures since he was thirty-eight. I’ll be past my prime soon, and no one will want to date me.” She took a deep breath and speared a piece of watermelon with her fork. “I’m giving up drinking.”
Stella and Molly shared a look, stunned.
“Really?” Molly asked. Tina had been attached to alcohol ever since she’d turned fifteen and had a sip of spiked eggnog at one of her parents’ Christmas Eve parties.
Tina nodded. “I’m starting over. A whole new Tina, and new Tina needs to start fresh so that when the right guy comes along—boom! Babies.”
“I hope I don’t have to teach you how babies are made, my friend,” Stella said, giving Tina bunny ears. “Because they certainly don’t boom unless something’s gone wrong.”
“I’m quite familiar with how babies boom, thank you very much.”
“Tina, you’re not gonna end up alone. You’ll meet someone and have babies and keep your teeth,” Molly said, standing on wobbly legs. “I should get back to the apartment.” Her head spun, but she didn’t stop moving. She hadn’t sleep at all the night before, instead continuing to prowl the streets for demon hunters.
“Uh, no.” Stella gripped her arm and stuffed another container of food between her palms. “You need to eat. You look like a ghost.”
“And that’s not attractive,” Tina added.
Molly glared at her polished, primped friends. They got to live in the pure bliss of innocence and freedom while she was unable to escape her own silent hell. “Fine. I’ll eat
some pineapple.” She unapologetically snatched some with her fingers from Tina’s bowl, chomping in an unladylike manner. “Happy?”
Stella smiled thinly. “Thrilled.”
“Now I have to get back to my assignment,” Molly said, swinging her textbook-stuffed purse over a shoulder.
“School doesn’t start for another three weeks,” Tina huffed. “You’re making me exhausted before we’ve even started!”
“I have too many advanced readings already assigned by professors and I don’t want to get behind,” Molly said and turned.
Her heart paused when she saw who approached—and then painfully rebooted.
“Hey love.” Pearce stood a few feet from their bench, arms folded so his thick biceps bulged in his too-small t-shirt. Molly gritted her teeth at his term. Love? He must have been in Europe for too long.
“Pearce…?” Molly swallowed nervously, glancing briefly at her friends. “What are you doing here?”
“In Central Park?” He raised a bushy brow at her and stepped closer. “I was going for a run. Tensley’s the worst host ever—Scorpios is running his life and he gets pissy about having anyone over.”
Maybe that’s why she hadn’t heard from him, because of work?
“So you’re staying with him?” Molly asked, keeping her voice steady.
“Yeah, until I find another place to crash. Not going back there tonight though; the man’s boarded himself in his home office.”
Molly adjusted her heavy bag, eyeing the sidewalk. Tensley would be alone.
“And who are these beautiful creatures?” Pearce continued, directing his attention to Tina and Stella where they sat regarding Pearce with curiosity.
Molly’s stomach dropped.
“We’re actually human beings,” Stella said, giving him a wan smile.
Pearce strode over and held out a large hand. “Ah, but you’re prettier than a human being.”
Stella’s smile grew. “The name’s Stella,” she said, deigning to take his offered hand. He kissed it, and Molly wanted to gag.
Tina waved and smiled. “Tina Fitzgerald.”
Pearce scanned each of the girls in that creepy way Molly recognized, scratching his beard thoughtfully. “Maybe you ladies can show me where I might be able to order a decent beer?”