by Ashur Rose
“No bullshit. Real deal.”
If Iain’s bones weren’t heavy enough to root him in place, this new information was. “How? We closed the fucking gate on Zorn. He’s not getting out. Why are we having this discussion?”
“That’s what Raze plans on finding out. And he wants us there when he does.”
Iain left the shirt in the laundry basket. He had the strangest feeling that he’d be flying tonight and wouldn’t need it to cover his wings. He found his boots instead. “Why didn’t Raze come with you?”
“He’s handling some business and meeting with his informant later tonight.”
Certain species didn’t mingle with Banes and those that did lived in a different realm altogether. “What species is it that it couldn’t just come here?” he asked as he drove his foot into his boot and snatched the laces.
“Shade.”
He let the laces fall. The sound of the metal aglets plinking against his wooden floor broke the silence. What the hell was Raze thinking? He of all people should know the deceiving nature of the shades and the destruction that followed them. Though the number of shades topside in this realm had decreased since locking away Zorn, what numbers remained were still dangerous. Raze knew this and hunted the shades so mercilessly that it was his name rumored to have been on the lips of Zorn when the gates closed to his eternal prison. For the life of him, Iain could not understand why Raze would agree to this meeting. But it occurred to him that this was the exact reason that he wanted the brothers to meet with him.
Steele folded his arms again. “I know what you’re thinking—”
“Really? Because if you did, you wouldn’t have wasted the flight over.”
Cree leaned against the doorframe. “Look, this shade’s looking for some amnesty when things go south. Raze wants to hear him out. Get all the info he can.” He scratched his jaw. “This could be it, E.”
The it Cree referred to was their way home, back to Empyrean. The weight of Iain’s bones pressing against his joints was an unnerving reminder of how close he was to turning. He needed to find Lilith tonight and convince her that he was her intended. But there would be no refusing Raze or his other brothers. If this was enough to get back in the good graces of the Phyrss, they had to take it. And as long as his hands could cull, he was expected to fight. He was Bane and would have it no other way.
“Fine. We go. We listen. If we don’t like what we hear, we cull his ass and leave.” His brothers could waste the rest of their night with a shade if they wanted, but Iain was only staying until the end of the conversation. Point, blank, period.
Iain grabbed his leather jacket and shades on the way up to the roof and enlarged his wings. The air was moist with a coming rain.
“I need a quick cull from my sub before we head over,” said Cree. “Rubee’s out of realm for the next few days.”
“Fine. Where’s this meeting?” Iain asked. He and his brothers stood on the ledge of his roof, wings stretched. Ready.
“A spot on the east side. Lots of people. Damn thing’s afraid we’d waste him if we met in private.”
“He doesn’t know Raze that well, does he?” Iain said.
“Who does?” Steele quipped.
CHAPTER SIX
IAIN
THE RAIN HAD COME down fast and hard, making the black of Iain’s hair look like slick oil as he walked into the building. He brushed the beads of water from the arms of his leather jacket. One glance at the auras and Iain knew why the shade had chosen to meet here. Females. Lots of them. The bastard had done his research and was taking advantage of their rule to never kill in front of a witnessing woman. The shade’s mistake was he’d chosen to meet with the only Drygs ruthless enough to break that rule.
Iain and his brothers made their way through the swarm of writhing bodies and loud music pumping from speakers, following the lingering scent of the shade to a round table near the back. The shade stood when the brothers arrived, giving a curt nod. He’d transformed into the female form, or was possessing one, which he’d dressed in sheer black lace and tight spandex leggings. A wise choice given the venue.
“Nalla rast guul, Raze?” it asked in a wholly male rasp. An unsettling contradiction to its soft cheekbones and slender face.
Iain had gone on enough missions with Raze to know that he was outside scoping the building for any stray shades. “He’ll be here shortly,” Iain said as Cree added, “And stick to English.”
That the shade had spoken in their native tongue hinted to Iain it had been around a long time. But the shade’s attempt at being accommodating had come off as disrespectful. Their language was sacred to them and it should have never uttered a word of it.
Strike one, Iain thought.
The shade nodded, then sat. The brothers took their seats as well. Iain needed to focus on the shade and put his back to the club and the distracting auras.
A female’s voice broke through the uncomfortable silence that had fallen between them. She wore fishnets, a miniskirt that showed her cheeks, and a painfully tight halter top. But all Iain saw was a soft pink as she scanned the table, ignoring the demon completely. Her gaze fell over his brothers and him. Iain could smell what she was putting out and knew that his brothers could too. Because of the nature of their visit, they wouldn’t dare mix pleasure with their business tonight.
“Hi. What can I get you guys to drink?”
Iain passed with a wave of his hand. The only thing he intended on ingesting next would be penance. The others ordered tall beers, although Cree and Steele were typically whisky drinkers. They needed to be undisturbed and having tall, unconsumed beers kept the servers away from their table and their conversation.
Four songs later, Iain glanced toward the entrance. Raze should be here by now. He looked to his brothers, who seemed to be in agreement with him, although not one word was spoken in front of the shade on the matter. Iain gave his brothers a subtle nod and pushed his chair away from the table. But no sooner had he stood to go find his brother, did he feel a shift in the crowd behind him. He heard the sound of shoes scuffling against the floor, breaths gasping, conversations ceasing. The waitress serving the neighboring table paused in the middle of delivering drinks and fixed her stare behind him. Iain didn’t waste his time turning around and took his seat again.
I know you weren’t coming to look for me? Raze reached.
His older brother had the power of reach, inherited from their father. He could reach inside the heads of humans and communicate telepathically. Iain being half-human, he’d always been accessible to Raze. It was particularly useful in battle when Raze would listen in, though Iain could never listen in return. He could only receive what Raze projected.
What kept you?
It’s raining. Had to be thorough.
He pulled out the chair next to Iain, shifting inside his leather jacket the kind of muscle mass that came from centuries of killing shades. He placed his thick hands on the table and balled his fists, making the scars on his knuckles turn white. There was a rubber band around his wrist. Iain knew the only time it ever came off was to tie his dirty blond dreads into a low bun before he killed. The shades, however, always stayed on.
Raze nodded to his brothers and looked at the shade. “What have you got for me?” His voice was deep, controlled and cool.
“I’ll need protection, of course,” the shade began.
“Depends on what you tell me. I guarantee nothing—we,” he said, gesturing to his brothers, “guarantee nothing.”
The shade’s eyes darted between the brothers. Iain saw the shade’s aura shift colors. Panic. Plain and simple. The corner of Iain’s mouth rose. The shade would tell them all they wanted to know without the promise of safety. If he refused, the four Banes surrounding him would follow and slaughter him outside the club. Iain knew this and the quiver in its voice when it spoke its next words confirmed that the shade knew it too.
“So be it.” Iain could damn near hear the shade gulp. “Zorn is
amassing yet another army to wage war against your realm.”
“This you’ve told me,” Raze said. “Tell us something we don’t know.”
“Something along the lines of how he’s gathering this army, considering we put him away?” Cree added.
Iain opened his mouth to bark his own question but flared his nostrils instead. He turned his head to his left, just slightly, and sniffed. He didn’t know if he was imagining things, but the smell of black currant wafted in the air. Must be the mixing of all the perfumes and colognes. He leaned to the side. Something about his rationale didn’t sit well with him. He rubbed his chin on the back of his hand, feeling annoyed all of a sudden.
Raze threw Iain a quick look before facing the shade again. He reached Iain while appearing to give his full attention to the shade. A skill Iain could never master.
Something up?
Don’t know, he replied. He didn’t want to give too much away in case it turned out to be nothing. Because what were the chances she would be here?
She who?
Some human, he thought. Thinking of taking her on as a sub, he lied. He didn’t want to think too hard about the details while Raze was listening.
Go check it out. We’ve got this for now. You’re due for a good cull.
Iain nodded. He was due for a lot more than that.
CHAPTER SEVEN
LILITH
LILITH RUSHED THROUGH THE doors of Serendipity with flopping shoelaces, wet hair, and her cocktail apron tied on backward. Having her powers was nice and all, but on days when the rain came down in thick sheets, she wished like hell she could afford a car.
She’d slept through her alarm. Twice. Seemed that Iain not only occupied her waking thoughts, but also invaded her dreams. Judging by how late she was for her shift, she didn’t seem to mind seeing him there. If she could just get past his eyes and the way they ate into her last night, then maybe she’d be able to get some work done.
She looked around the club. Missing the first hour of her shift meant the other servers were assigned the front sections. She’d wind up taking a section in the back with the non-tipping creepers and voyeurs, hiding their squirts of excitement from the black lights. She was going to have to work hard to get them to loosen their wallets. And maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. She could use the distraction.
She hustled to the dressing room to grab her heels from her locker. Her boss would have to ignore the tear in her fishnets, along with her missing nametag. It must have fallen off in her rush to fade from the graveyard. She grabbed an order pad from the bar counter.
“Brad,” she called out to the guy behind the bar.
The bearded, twenty-something bartender turned around holding two silver cocktail shakers in both hands. His mess of brown curls was pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, exposing large, white silicon gauges in his ears. He eyed her beneath furrowed brows. The scowl, Lilith suddenly remembered, was not because he was in the weeds with drink orders, but because she’d stood him up for a date—twice. The second time had been just last week. She didn’t know why she’d agreed to go out with him. Well, actually she did. It felt nice, she remembered. It had felt nice to have someone show interest without being creepy in the way she’d grown accustomed while at Serendipity. She hadn’t had that in years.
“Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna say something?” Brad said.
Lilith drew in a breath. She wasn’t supposed to be having this conversation so soon. He should still be out of town for his brother’s wedding. “Just wanted to know what table was sat last, Brad.”
Brad shook his head with a smug laugh. “Unbelievable. This girl stands me up, doesn’t call, and all she wants to know is who was sat last.” He placed the cocktail shakers on the bar and looked Lilith square in the eyes. She liked that about Brad—the attention he paid to her face and not her tits. “At least last time you apologized.”
Brad was usually a funny guy, when he wasn’t pissed at her, and was very attractive. “Look. I’m sorry, okay.” No, she wasn’t. “I was…busy.”
“Busy?”
“Yeah.”
“Whatever.” Brad snatched the shakers from the counter and turned around before yelling over his shoulder, “Ask Roxie who was sat last. She took the order.”
“Fine,” Lilith said with an annoyed sigh. She turned around to find Roxie walking up to the bar, fanning herself with her order pad. Her face was rose red. “You okay?”
She faced Lilith with relief spreading across her features. “About time you got here. Where’ve you been?”
“Running late.” Poor girl looked absolutely flustered. “Are you in the weeds, too?”
“No, no,” she said, ripping the drink order from the pad and placing it on the bar. Brad grabbed it and turned around to the cooler. “I’m all caught up. It’s just… Well, I guess they’re yours now.”
“Who?”
“Table ninety-three. One chick and three guys. Seats two, three, and four are just bottles. Seat one didn’t order anything. May have ruined your tip by gawking at the guys because the chick looked pissed when I left. Sorry.” She gave Lilith a pat on the shoulder.
“Yeah,” Lilith said under her breath. “Because how could this night get any worse?”
When she turned around to table ninety-three and saw a demon sitting there, she knew the night already had.
CHAPTER EIGHT
IAIN
IAIN MOVED ABOUT THE crowd, trying to wade through the onslaught of scents. The most offensive of which emanated from the bar crowded with males. He steered clear of it, saving it for the walk back, as it was adjacent to their table. From what Iain could sense, the club had a U-shaped layout. The music blared on the opposite side, whereas it played significantly softer on the side he now prowled. The auras around him were slumped over tans and grayish-browns. Drunks. Not at all the color he was looking for. He moved past when the complex black currant scent struck him again. Sweet, dark, feral—yet shy. The sensory tease was starting to lose its charm. Shit, it was downright obnoxious at this point. He needed to find it. Possess it. At least then he’d know if the scent belonged to whom he’d hoped.
He walked forward, thinking he’d pinpointed it near a door, only to find out that the door was guarded by a hulking mass, his aura tinged with stress and aggression.
“You lost?” the male voice asked.
Iain turned his ear toward the door. There were feminine voices chattering He tried to decide if one of the voices could have been hers—if it was worth him incapacitating the male in front of the door and bursting into a room full of women.
The mass moved forward. “Joe, I asked if you were lost. This area is for staff only. And you damn sure don’t look like no dancer.”
Iain fixed his eyes on the door. Even when the male eclipsed it with his closeness, he didn’t look away. “Do the workers here wear a name badge?” he asked.
“You tell me? You blind or somethin’?” The male was at Iain’s face now. Iain saw his aura shift. He was annoyed and primed for a fight. “Blind folks probably shouldn’t be at a strip club. Know what I’m sayin’?”
“Lilith. Her name is Lilith.”
The male gave Iain a stiff shove to his chest. Iain was sure he would have felt something had he been fully human. It might have even caused him to fall, but he didn’t budge from the blow. It was the intent behind the contact that caused his fingers to tremble. What would happen next played out in Iain’s mind: Iain crushing his fingers around the man’s windpipe before ripping it from his neck, the male falling to his knees, gasping through a hole for air that would never come.
Or something like that.
“Back away from the door, muthafucka. Last warning or I’m throwin’ ya ass out.”
Iain sighed. His brothers were soft-interrogating a shade on the other side of the club. He didn’t want to take their attention away from that. It wasn’t the proper time or place, he thought, deciding not to rip the red mass
’ throat out. He was only doing his job. Iain could respect that and wait it out. See who emerged from the behind the door later.
“My mistake,” Iain said, walking back to his table. He adjusted his jacket, extending his arms. His joints rubbed together like sandpaper. His bones, Phyrss help him, his bones were so heavy they felt cemented.
He shouldered his way through the warm bodies full of essence, hunger hitting him so hard and deep in his core, he doubled over. The humans wouldn’t even notice if he took a little from them. Maybe four or five culls would do. A small tap on the chest. An accidental bump in passing…
He took a deep breath and righted himself. The club was so crowded that if he leaned into them to cull a little of their life force, they’d assume he was drunk and had lost his footing. But he’d gone too long without taking penance. His body wouldn’t be able to stop once started. Culling from a human would be dangerous. But he needed to feed. The only question was: on what?
CHAPTER NINE
LILITH
“WHEN THE HELL DID this start happening? Lilith tried to remember. No demon had ever shown up in the club like this. Was it here for her? And who were those guys at the table with it? They didn’t have PDs, but there was something strange about them she couldn’t place. An Asian man, a black man, and a white man sitting together in a strip club? She was sure there was a joke somewhere in there, but she couldn’t find the humor at the moment. And not that it had anything to do with their strangeness, but jeez, they were massive. Thick necks, broad backs, muscles bulging underneath all that leather. Lilith looked closer. They weren’t wearing shirts beneath those jackets. And the demon? The damn thing was trying to mask itself in women’s clothing. For the most part, Lilith saw with normal eyes. But nothing, absolutely nothing, could hide the ugly mug of a demon from a demon hunter. No amount of makeup or charm or disguise could keep her from seeing its true self.