by Ciara Graves
There was very little we knew about the mage. We mostly wanted to bring him in for questioning. Rumors circulated about his being involved with the dark magic trade, bringing banned products in and out of Nashville to various sectors. He was violent, too. Several high-profile deaths of judges and supe cops were connected to him, but there was never enough proof to throw his ass in a cell.
We needed to get our hands on him, interrogate him and break him down. Liam was a little fish, in all honesty. He was working for someone. The question was, who? If he was going to be at this ball, his boss might be, too.
I cursed quietly, musing at the possibility he worked for the reapers. That would make my whole night even better. I scrolled down and read over the other few facts. He had been part of the Gathered, and they put a bounty out on him, probably wanting to clean up their own house. If they got their hands on him first, we’d lose our shot at figuring out the bigger picture. Liam was part of it, and I needed his ass sitting here at the Fed building, not disappearing into nothingness.
The system was far from perfect, but it ran well enough. Most days. My main job was to keep the supes safe from humans that attempted to interfere or cause us grief. But when our own stirred up shit, it made my job even harder, and gave the humans even more excuses to hate us. Especially, when our internal fighting spilled out of the sectors and into their streets. The sectors were only connected by magical transports.
Transports looked a lot like the telephone booths during the days of old. Except these had no phones in them. Call them supernatural transportation, if you will. They were powered by magic. Type the sector one wanted to go to, a flash of bright light and poof! one was instantly transported to another sector.
Only supes with special passes—such as Feds—could travel into human territories if going after a criminal. Otherwise, we were restricted to our sectors.
No matter how shitty said sectors were.
I rolled my shoulders, growling quietly, but shoved the memories away and pushed back from my desk.
Gripping the business card, so it crinkled in my hand, I figured there was no time like the present and left the Fed building to walk the three blocks over to the tailor. Most got out of my way as I walked.
On several occasions, Nor had told me I needed to work on my facial expressions. It’s not like I wanted to look pissed off all the time, or like I was about to go into a rage. This was just how I looked. There were plenty of demons in Sector 21, but none of them grew up where I had. They had happy childhoods. Never had to fight to survive. No matter how many times Nor told me to reach out, find others to talk to…
What was the point when none of them would ever understand why I was the way I was?
“Hello?” I called out as I entered the small shop, the scent of magic hanging heavy in the air.
I rolled my shoulders again, my blood growing hot as flashes of memories attempted to surface. With a pang starting at my temples, I shoved them all back down and reminded myself this warlock never raised a hand to me.
The stench of magic did little to ease my rage, which was so close to breaking free. At least, I managed to stop myself from running out of the shop. Or killing the man who appeared from the back room.
“Ah, good morning.” The cheerful, small man in a violet suit hurried over, holding out his hand for mine. “You must be Rafael, yes?”
“Yes. Nor sent me over to get fitted for a tux.” Reluctantly, I took his hand and dropped it just as quick as I could.
The warlock seemed curious at the action but said nothing about it.
“He did indeed. Right this way,” he replied, humming under his breath. “I am Julius, by the way. Now then, up here… that’s it. Let’s just take this jacket off you. And your tie.”
I shrugged out of my black jacket and tugged off my tie. He measured me with quick, experienced movements, but when he reached up to undo my shirt, holding another shirt in his right hand, I snarled, baring fangs.
It didn’t seem to faze him, but he paused.
“There is a fitting room. Try this shirt on, if you please?”
That I could do. Taking the shirt, I stepped off the raised platform and ducked behind the curtain. Keeping my back to the mirror, I undid my plain black one and slipped into the white tux shirt, all the while focusing on anything, but what hid underneath the fabric.
With the new shirt on, I stepped out, and Julius was right back at it with more measurements.
An hour later, I looked back at a demon I didn’t recognize.
“There we are,” Julius exclaimed happily. “I’ll make a few quick minor adjustments and have it ready for you by five. Will, that work?”
I tugged on the uncomfortable jacket. “Don’t have much of a choice.”
“Oh, come now. A strapping demon like you dressed like that. Surely you’ll be picking up a lady or two tonight, wherever you’re going.”
I would not associate with anyone I met in Sector 13. Not even close.
But I said nothing, and he told me I could change back into my clothes.
Back in the dressing room, I let the tux shirt fall away and with a heavy breath out my nose, slowly turned around to take in my appearance. My tanned skin was marred here and there by white, puckered flesh, making a dizzying pattern along my chest and down onto my abs. It grew worse when it reached my shoulders.
I traced the scars, yells of terror flooding my ears until it was all I heard. Yanking my hand away, I spun back around and had to breathe long and deep for five minutes before I could get myself to move again.
Stupid. Why did I ever think I’d get away from what befell me back then?
Thankfully, Julius was busy with a new customer as I stepped out and placed the clothes on the table for him to take care of.
I glanced at the half-demon he was fitting now.
Hard eyes narrowed when they locked onto mine in the mirror.
I escaped before the warlock could talk to me anymore.
The walk back to the office was too short and did nothing to help me get out of my sudden mood change. Going home for the rest of the day should have been what I did, but instead, I swallowed down my anger and stormed to my desk, ignoring everyone I passed on the way.
The invitation mocked me from the corner of my desk.
A mage. It had to be a mage I was going through all this shit for.
Damned magic users.
I grabbed it and shoved it away, diving headfirst into my work.
For several hours, I was successful, and the afternoon started to go by quickly. The tux was dropped off around three—earlier than I anticipated, based on what Julius said.
I considered asking Nor if I could head home early to get ready when a voice reached me from across the floor.
“No,” I grunted, nowhere in the right mind to deal with any more drama today.
“Rafael, it’s so good to see you again! I missed you!”
Too late.
I glanced up in time to see Iris strolling quickly for my desk.
“Iris, this is a surprise. How have you been?” I forced myself to ask as I stood.
I was prepared to shake her hand, but instead, she hugged me, squeezing me tightly as I awkwardly patted her on the back.
“Oh, come on! You can’t tell me you didn’t miss me at all?” she asked, pulling back.
Failing to smile, I motioned to the chair beside my desk, and she took it. Damn.
“You just caught me off guard is all. Thought you were enjoying California.”
“Eh, I was for a while, but there’s so much going on there. Too many humans,” she said, waving away my question. “So I asked to come back. Thought you’d be happy to see me, but from that weird look on your face, I’d say not.”
“No,” I said and resumed my seat, “there’s a big case going on right now, and I have to go undercover tonight. A lot on my mind.”
“You were always so wrapped up in work.” She rested her hand on mine.
It was a
concentrated effort for me not to pull back.
A whisper of the months we spent together rushed through my mind, but there was no moment that stuck out enough to make me take her hand and tell her I was grateful she was back. Because I wasn’t. Far from it.
“Are you seeing someone right now?” Her fingers rubbed over my knuckles as she leaned closer, letting her blouse part a bit.
I did move back this time, not caring when she pouted.
“No, figure I’m better off alone. Isn’t that basically what you told me anyway?” I growled and then removed her hand from my arm. “If you’ll excuse me, I have work to take care of.” I stood.
I was going to tell Nor I was taking off early now. Tomorrow, if I survived the ball, I’d give him an earful for not giving me a head’s up Iris was coming back.
“I did call you,” she said quietly. “Quite a few times. You never answered.”
A pang of loneliness crept through me as I debated not responding, but the words slipped out before I could, leftover anger from the tux-fitting coming through.
“You left me, remember? Said you couldn’t be with someone who never opened up. Said if I couldn’t change, then I was doomed to be alone forever.” I glared at her until she swallowed hard and her face paled. “You walked away without so much as a goodbye, and you expect me to pick up when you call? Expect me to be happy when you show your face here?”
“Raf, I—”
“Rafael,” I corrected sharply. “And really, don’t worry about it. Thanks to you, I’ve figured out I’m better off without anyone. Fewer people to let down. As I said, I have work.”
Snatching my tux, I didn’t even bother telling Nor I was leaving.
He’d call me if he wanted to chew my ass out, but I was not going to sit here and listen to Iris give me shit for not trying to stay in touch.
I met her three years ago when I landed a job here.
She was sweet, laughed a lot, and for some strange reason, I agreed to go on a date with her. Despite the fact she was a siren, and that was how she probably landed her dates with other supes, those abilities did not work on demons.
She genuinely seemed to like me, and I thought I could be with her.
That first date led to more dates, and we were together for about a year until she started to get mad at me. Said I never talked to her, claimed she had no idea who I really was, and that after a year she should.
Every time she tried to get closer, I pushed her away and kept pushing until she finally up and left.
I’d told her countless times to let it go. That I’d tell her when I was ready.
Thank god she never saw the scars, or she would’ve hounded me more than she already had.
Only one person knew what happened to me.
And that was me.
I never wanted to be close to anyone again.
I tried with Iris, and all it proved was that I was better off keeping to myself.
No one was going to save me.
It was too damned late for that.
Chapter 5
Rafael
The tux had been uncomfortable enough when I was at the tailor. Now it was unbearable, and I snarled with every step I took, cursing Nor for throwing me into this mess.
Sector 13 was crawling with reapers, banshees, vampires, ghouls, zombies, all manner of dark supes, as well as a few faces I recognized as known criminals, murderers, gang members. It’d be a miracle if no one realized who I was by the end of the night.
I made my way to the address on the invite and found myself standing in a long line outside a large, black stone mansion that took up the entire city block. Keeping my gaze watchful, but not too intent, I studied each face around me, searching for the mage. The bounty hunter too, since Nor proclaimed she would be here, but we had no idea what she looked like since no one could ever give us a good enough description to have a sketch.
All I knew was she had a scar running down her face. Other than that, nothing.
“Invitation, sir?” a gruff voice snapped.
I handed it over as I reached the door and waited for the demon to call me out for being a Fed.
“The reapers welcome you to the ball. Enjoy your evening, sir.” I was waved through and scanned for weapons, but didn’t worry about them finding anything.
I’d left my pistol at home. If the mage gave me any trouble, I was certain I could handle him with my fists alone. I was over six feet tall and solid muscle. Most mages I met were skinny men who relied on their magic over their physical ability. A simple knock over the head would suffice. Nor said nothing about him being conscious when I got him out of here.
Following the crowd of people ahead of me, I found myself standing in a massive ballroom. Like something from a movie set. There was a grand staircase at the opposite end, a balcony where a number of guests stood, drinking and chatting, eating food that smelled atrocious.
Avoiding the buffet table, I skirted the perimeter of the room, hands in my pockets, attempting my best to fit in. I was doing well until the crowd quieted down and the lights dimmed.
A spotlight lit up the top of the grand staircase, and the hosts of this ball walked forward.
I growled and swallowed back the sound quickly after a look from a nearby warlock.
I coughed, trying to play it off until the asshole looked away.
“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to our annual Fright Ball!” the reaper announced loudly, raising his arms. A black cloak was draped over his shoulders, his pale, translucent skin glowing under the spotlight, eyes black and empty. Behind him were more reapers, as well as several demons and vampires. Plus their bodyguards.
But it was the ones who stood just to the right of the reapers that had me wishing I had more backup, so I could shut this place down now.
Three people, I couldn’t tell what they were, possibly human, stood to the side, hands clasped before them, in black-tie, like everyone else. Their heads were lowered, gazes to the floor.
They were the reapers’ source of food for the night and my hands fisted in my pockets, digging my nails into my palms hard to remind myself why I was here.
Technically, unless I could prove those three were here against their will, I had no cause to create a scene and attempt to free them. As sad as it was, there were plenty of supes and humans who gave themselves over to such creatures, not seeing any other way out of their pitiful lives. For a while at least, they’d be taken care of. Several vampires kept donors around for decades, treated them well, gave them good lives. But reapers, all they did was take one’s life force. One way or another, they would be the death of the person. A life force could only be replenished with magic, and I doubted the reapers would ever care enough about their food source to waste time when they could simply find more poor souls to take in. How could anyone call that living?
“I would like you all to enjoy the festivities. Eat, drink, dance the night away!”
There was applause at the end of his short introduction, and then the band began to play.
Couples moved out to the floor, dancing and laughing as if they hadn’t a care in the world. Two mages stood across from me, and I turned away before they triggered any more memories. If I lost my shit here, I’d never make it out of this mansion alive.
Suddenly an arm wrapped through mine and I was being pulled out to the dance floor.
Just as I was about to snarl at the woman to leave me alone, she spun around, and I really did growl.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I hissed at Iris.
“Giving you backup,” she replied in my ear as she pulled me close while we danced. “What else?”
“Nor sent you?”
“Yeah, he did. I tried to tell you, but you took off on me before I could. Come on, dance with me so we can keep our cover.”
Reluctantly, I guided her around the floor, keeping as much space as possible between us though, I felt the pressure in her hands as she attempted to keep bringing me in toward her.<
br />
“You know I left for a reason,” she said suddenly.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t know. You just think you know,” she argued, but she sounded like she wanted to laugh, not that she was angry. “I hoped you would’ve followed me.”
“What for?”
“You know you like me as much as you try to deny it. Thought if I left, it’d kickstart some dormant emotions you hid away. Make you react, do something.”
I laughed harshly.
She glared.
“Oh, it kicked up some feelings alright.”
“You can’t keep denying that we had something good going.”
“Did we?” I shook my head, spinning her out, then brought her back in hard enough to knock the air out of her.
She attempted to stomp on my foot, but I moved out of the way too quickly.
“You assumed we had something good. I was merely going through the motions. I told you countless times I wasn’t ready for a relationship, but you… you kept pushing and weaseling your way into my life. And then, when you were there, you weren’t ever happy again. I wasn’t the demon you wanted me to be. Your lovesick puppy dog.”
“Bastard.”
“Yes, I am a bastard, which is also what I told you, but you refused to listen. Still do.”
“I came back so we could try again, alright? I was wrong to leave you.”
“Yes, you were.” I moved us to the edge of the dancers, so we could both see the other guests better, as we were here to find our target and not fight with each other. “And you were just as wrong in thinking you could come back, and I’d just let you into my life. That I’d somehow magically learned to open up. Well, I haven’t. Newsflash, it’s not going to be because of you.”
This time, she caught the inside of my foot with her sharp, spiked heel.
I grunted.
“You could try.”
“You never let me,” I snarled. “All you did was say you were there for me, then ask me a hundred different ways to tell you what happened. Did it ever occur to you that I wasn’t ready? I’m still not?”
“I just want you to be happy.”