by Elise Marion
“It’s not that. It’s just that everyone else has been flashing their powers since I met them,” she replied. “But not you.”
He gave her a little smile. “My power isn’t the flashy kind. A photographic memory and ability to quickly memorize massive amounts of information aren’t as cool as fireballs or superhuman strength.”
She smiled back at him. “Are you kidding? That’s amazing! Color me impressed.”
He lowered his eyes again and she couldn’t miss the red splotches staining his cheeks at her compliment. He cleared his throat.
“Yes, well, we should continue on. Now, what’s the most important thing to remember about Lilith?”
“She’s a shapeshifter,” she replied, remembering the material they’d already gone over. “She can take the form of a human woman, an owl, or a serpent.”
“Don’t be fooled,” he warned. “By ‘owl’ and ‘serpent’, we aren’t talking about your garden-variety zoo animals. She’ll be more dangerous in those forms than she will be in her human shell. But, we don’t need to worry about her too much yet. If I understand correctly, her entourage is first on our list.”
“Which leads us to …” she paused, glancing down at the material he’d given her. “I can’t pronounce these names. There’s three of them.”
He nodded, adjusting his frames. “Semangelaf, Sanvi, and Sansanvi. They were once angels, but fell after they let Lilith seduce them.”
“Typical men,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes.
“They were sent to fight her, and instead, ended up becoming her lovers and bodyguards.”
“All three of them? Wow, someone gets around.”
He chuckled. “Well, she is the mother of legions. They have to come from somewhere. Anyway, they won’t be hard to beat. In fact, the Seal isn’t necessary against them, so they could be easily dispatched by one of the others. They possess the same powers you do, nothing more. Dispatch them with your Guardian weapon, and you’re done. Now, on to the other two.”
“The big kahunas,” she murmured, glancing back down at her sheaf of papers. “Nybass.”
“The jester,” he confirmed. “He doesn’t look like much, but don’t underestimate him, either. He specializes in the absurd. Everything is a joke to him, so if he can defeat you while making you look like an idiot, he will. You should also know he likes to tamper with dreams. Specifically, blurring the line between vision and reality.”
“A practical joker with a mean streak and Freddie-Kruger-tendencies. Sounds like fun.”
“He still won’t be as hard to beat as Astaroth. Now he’s a Prince of Hell, with legions at his command. Since he’s one of the princes, he never gets his hands dirty unless he has to. Which means he’ll bring backup. But once you get through them, you also have his beast to face.”
“A dragon-like thingy, right?”
He nodded. “You have a good memory. That helps me tremendously. Yes, the creature is a bit draconic. Astaroth will use it as a weapon and a shield to keep from having to fight you himself. Separate him from the beast, and you have a chance.”
“Damn right she’ll have a chance,” Micah boomed, approaching from the living room. “Because I’ll have her back.”
She gave him a once-over, still taken aback by the radical transformation that seemed to have happened overnight.
“Good,” Derek replied, standing. “She’ll need it.”
“Ready to go, cher?” he asked, turning to her. “We’ve got about six hours before your shift starts, and you still got trainin’ to be about.”
She dragged herself from the chair and suppressed a groan. Her muscles ached just thinking about the ass-kicking she’d endured from Elian and Alice the day before. As things stood, she’d have to use makeup to cover the bruises. She didn’t even want to think about how lifting herself onto the pole would strain her sore muscles even more.
Sensing her reluctance, Micah wrapped one arm around her shoulder and gave her a playful shake.
“Aw, c’mon now. It won’t be so bad. Besides, I bet Mamère will whip up some more corn cakes just for you.”
Just thinking of the fried bread smothered in honey, her stomach grumbled. Emeline Boudreaux’s cooking was worth ten ass-kickings.
Three hours later, Addison had decided that maybe it wasn’t worth it. She had grass stains on her favorite jeans, abrasions on her palms that were going to make pole tricks difficult, and her hair had become a matted mess with leaves and long blades of grass sticking out every which way.
Elian, hardly fazed, stood in front of her as she struggled to her feet and brushed the dust from her clothes.
“You’re doing it again,” he said. His tone did not sound at all accusing, yet, made her feel like a reprimanded child.
Picking a long blade of grass out of her hair, she huffed. “I’m not trying to. It’s not exactly easy.”
“Well, you need to get over whatever mental blocks are causing you to reach for darkness instead of light,” Alice snapped, hands coming up to her hips. “We don’t have time for this.”
“Cut her some slack, Alice,” Antoine replied from where he stood beside Micah, helping repair the shutters on the first-floor windows. “Most of us have known we were Guardians or Oracles our entire lives. We’ve had families to guide and teach us the right way to do things. Addison’s situation is different. Not only is she a Guardian, she’s a Naphil who never had the protection or training we did. She’s playing catch up.”
“Yet, she’s supposed to be the ‘Chosen One’,” she scoffed, shaking her head.
“That’s enough outta you,” Micah said, shooting Alice a dangerous glare. “Back off.”
Glancing back and forth between him and Addison, she sneered.
“Oh, I see. This your latest piece of ass, Micah? That why you defend her, even when you know she sucks at this?”
Instead of getting angry, he set his hammer aside and grinned. “Wouldn’t it just burn your britches if that were the case?”
Alice’s jaw worked back and forth as she ground her teeth and folded her arms across her chest. “I couldn’t care less.”
Micah rolled his eyes. “Sure, Alice. Whatever you say. And just so you know, Addison ain’t that kinda girl. Not like some people I know.”
“Right,” Alice muttered. “Tell that to the men slipping dollar bills into her G-string every night.”
Addison’s hands curled into fists at her sides, and her vision went black around the edges. A familiar rage welled up in her, overflowing before she could stop it.
“That’s it,” she growled, lunging at Alice.
She came up against a solid brick wall as Micah wedged himself between them. Grasping her arms, he lifted her off her feet and began to walk, taking her clear across the yard.
“Whoa there, cher! You need a time-out.”
Kicking and flailing in his hold, she shot Alice a murderous glance over his shoulder.
“Micah, put me down!”
Setting her on her feet, he blocked her view of the others with his bulky body and crossed his arms.
“Okay, you’re down. Now what?”
Grunting in frustration, she ran a hand through her tangled hair. “Alice is right, Micah. I suck at this, and I can’t figure out what I’m doing wrong.”
He chuckled, his massive chest heaving as he threw his head back. “Never let me hear you say those words again. Don’t be ridiculous.”
She frowned. “What? ‘I suck’?”
“No. ‘Alice is right’.”
She couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out, and before long, they both laughed uncontrollably.
“That’s better,” he said once they’d quieted. “Now that you’re calm, listen to me, and listen good, cher. You can do this. When you took that mark, you let the light in. Sometimes, it’s hard to find because we bury ourselves in so much muck. Believe me, no one knows more about that than me.”
“It’s hard,” she admitted, lowering her head. “It’s l
ike I told Jack before he … before. My entire life, I’ve been fighting this darkness inside me. It’s the nature of the demon in me, making itself known every time I get angry, or stressed. I can’t beat it.”
He stepped closer, until he’d all but blocked the light of the sun. His arms dropped down to his sides and he gazed down at her, his expression more serious than she’d ever seen it.
How had she never noticed the darker rim of green on the edges of his eyes—like jade? They melted into a pool of spring green in the middle, the contrast made even more startling by the circle of blond lashes around them.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered.
She drew her eyebrows together. “What?”
“Just do it. Trust me.”
Sighing, she obeyed. With her eyes closed, she became even more aware of her surroundings—the sway of the tall grass around them, the heat of the afternoon, the soft breeze, Micah’s solid mass just in front of her.
“I want you to think of the last time you were happy. I don’t just mean content, either. I mean, really, truly, deliriously happy.”
Thinking back over her life, she shouldn’t have been surprised to find so little to be happy about. The memories depressed her.
Then, she smiled.
There had been Jack. Even for a short time, he had been hers, and she had been his. They’d been happy and he’d given her something no one else ever had. Love.
“You’re thinkin’ about Jack, aren’t you?” he asked, voice still low.
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Okay, that’s good. I want you to think about the happiest you ever were with him. Tell me about it.”
Taking a deep breath, she fought back tears. The best memory of Jack, also blended with the worst.
“Just before he died,” she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. “When we walked down the street in Ethiopia together, talking about the kind of life we wanted to have when this was all over.”
“If I know Jack, he wanted to travel.”
She nodded. “We were going to do it together. Leave New Orleans and see the world. I’d always wanted to experience something other than this and he … he made it all sound so exciting.”
“What else?”
Wracking her brain, she tried to recall the details of that night. The smell of summer night air, the feel of Jack’s hand in hers, the sensation of weightlessness—almost as if she could fly.
“I’ve never felt anything like that,” she said. “He talked about being with me as if it were some great thing, like I had something to offer him. No one has ever treated me like that, like I mattered. We stopped walking at one point, and I can remember him touching my face and watching me with this look in his eyes, and I just knew …”
“You knew he loved you.”
She nodded, and faintly registered him brushing a tear from her cheek.
“When you start having the dark thoughts, I want you to remember that,” he said. “Remember how it felt to know he loved you. That’s your light, Addison.”
She sniffled, and another tear escaped the corner of her eye. “It’s hard to think about him. It hurts.”
“I know, cher. But we have to feel the pain to heal, don’t we? Now, open your eyes.”
Obeying his command, she opened her eyes and gasped. He stood in front of her, only now a blinding white light surrounded him, crowding her field of vision. Yet, she didn’t need to see him. She could feel him and everything around her as if they were connected. Warmth touched her chest, radiating outward, and she knew without looking down that her Guardian mark had taken on the same white glow.
Through the haze, Micah grinned. The boyishly lopsided expression transformed his face into something far less gruff and intimidating.
“Well, I’ll be,” he murmured. “Who says you suck at this?”
Blinking, she let go of the glow, returning her vision to normal. She missed the heady feeling of the light as soon as it had gone, but knew now how easy it could be to access it. She’d had Jack to coax the light from her during the fight with Mammon. Now, even without his presence, it seemed he still served to remind her of the good to be found in the world, and the light which could banish all darkness.
“Thank you, Jack,” she whispered, trailing after Micah back toward where the others waited for her.
Ignoring Alice, she turned back to Elian. “Let’s do this, kid.”
Chapter Seven: Dancing with Devils
Micah leaned against the bar, watching the girls performing on stage with indifference. While the sight of so much naked, female skin usually proved enough to distract him, he found himself not caring this time around. Glancing around the taproom and spotting Alice and Antoine buried in the crowd, he decided it must be because he felt on edge about this mission. Sure, it would only be the triplets and a handful of succubi. Still, it would be his first real mission since Jack’s death, and Addison’s first demon-fighting attempt without training wheels.
Their Naphil ring-bearer was backstage somewhere, prepping for her first dance. She’d promised to be on her guard and keep her eyes peeled for signs of trouble.
At his side, Elian fidgeted, his eyes glued to the four women manning the poles at the front of the room. Obviously his first time inside a strip joint. The seventeen-year-old boy might be underage, but on Bourbon Street, a guy could get away with a lot. Micah knew Carmen, his mother, would kill him if she knew her son had been dragged into a strip club, but he might be needed. Aside from Addison, Elian was the strongest among them. They could use him on the off-chance Lilith, Nybbas, and Astaroth all decided to put in appearances at once—an unlikely occurrence. Demons being vain creatures, neither would want to share the spotlight with the other.
“Relax, kid,” he grunted, taking a swig from his first beer of the day. At ten p.m., he’d been sober all day. That had to be some kind of record. “It’s just skin.”
Elian cleared his throat and tried to play it cool. “I know.”
He laughed, taking in the boy’s embarrassed expression and tense body language. “I’ll never forget the first time Uncle Remy took me to a titty bar.”
The boy’s raised his eyebrows. “Your uncle took you to see strippers?”
“Yeah. Remy never was worth a damn. Taking a sixteen-year-old boy to see some naked chicks dance around woulda never crossed his mind as bein’ the wrong thing to do. I’d imagine my eyes got just as big as yours when I caught sight of all the T&A in that joint. Try not to look so green. A stripper who knows what she’s doin’ will milk that for all its worth, and before you know it, you’re standin’ on the curb with your pockets turned inside out and not a penny left to your name.”
Elian snorted. “That happen to you?”
Micah arched an eyebrow, taking another slow swig of his beer. “More times than I could count.”
Their conversation halted as the song ended and the four girls collected their money and clothing and left the stage. The lighting shifted, going from blue and yellow tones to red and pink. A male voice came over the speaker system, announcing the next line-up of dancers—which included Addison. Lenny Kravitz belted ‘American Woman’ as the four girls took the stage, each dressed in clothing reminiscent of military uniforms.
Addison represented the Army in a little green camouflage jacket that barely concealed her breasts, and tiny matching shorts. Fishnets, black boots, and an olive-green cap completed the outfit, though there had to be more layers beneath even those tiny articles of clothing.
She gripped the pole in one hand and arched into a backbend, coming nearly parallel to the floor. Letting her upper body touch the stage, she flipped head over heels and landed on her stomach. Circling her legs outward, she came up into a split. Then, bracing her hands beneath her, she lifted herself into a standing position, legs spread wide. With a coy smirk, she whipped her cap off and tossed it into the crowd, giving her hair a flip for good measure.
Then, strutting toward the front of the stage, she g
ripped the lapels of the tiny jacket and pulled, revealing a short, midriff-baring fishnet shirt, under which she wore a black string bikini top.
Watching her go back to commanding the pole, Micah couldn’t help the same thought he’d had since the moment he’d realized Jack had developed feelings for her. It was easy to see the attraction. He tended to prefer blondes, but the shade of red fit both her looks and personality. Aside from a pretty face—all angles, full lips, and wide eyes—she had the kind of body women killed themselves in the gym for. Not hard to determine where she got the figure. The muscles in her legs and arms flexed as she executed her moves, while her womanly bits had all the softness and wiggle they ought to.
Feeling a rush of heat at the back of his neck, he looked away, suddenly uncomfortable.
“You’ve seen her dance before, couyon,” he muttered to himself.
That much was true. He’d seen her wearing far less, and shaking parts of her body that would make any red-blooded male squirm. Yet, he’d been so adamantly against working with a half-demon Naphil that he’d hardly taken the time to notice. Thinking of his sister and her murder at the hands of one of those vile creatures had caused him to see nothing but a demon when he’d looked at her.
Yet, it had been difficult to hold on to that prejudice since Jack’s death. Seeing her so miserable without him had reminded him of her humanity. He hadn’t wanted to give two damns about her, but she’d made that increasingly hard by the day.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered.
Taking up his beer, he tipped it up and chugged the rest. The weak brew hardly affected him. At his size, he needed something stronger to have the effect he wanted—complete and total annihilation of the senses.
“Two Jager bombs and a Bud Platinum,” he said to the bartender.
She quickly poured the shots, then cracked open his beer and slid them across the bar to him. He gave her the money he owed plus a tip, then took up both shots, one in each hand.
Elian edged toward him, a frown marring his young face. “You gonna drink both of those?”
Micah shot him a glare before tipping back the first glass, swallowing the overly sweet Jager mixed with Red Bull. Without missing a beat, he downed the second one right behind it. Slamming the glasses down, he reached for the beer and chugged, chasing the liquor with the brew.