As a cleaning crew came to mop up the mess, the marshal turned to the crowd and shouted, “Disqualified!”
Moira and I smacked our hands on the table, drumming along with the rest of the patrons while another fool came forward.
“So let me get this straight,” Rysten said, talking over the noise. “You come here to listen to people recite bad poetry and throw food at them? Isn’t that a bit…demeaning?”
My heart fluttered as it had little spasms in my chest. He didn’t completely understand the purpose, but his sentiment was in a good place. Better than one might expect for the Horsemen of Pestilence. But I didn’t get the chance to explain to him.
“I told you we should have brought Laran instead,” Moira muttered just loud enough for him to hear. Rysten froze for about half a second, narrowing his eyes at her. She arched an eyebrow and motioned to the bucket sitting in front of him. The second fool had just finished her performance and the crowd was going nuts. Meanwhile, Moira was giving Rysten a test.
One it appeared, he was not going to fail.
He grabbed a bell pepper off the top as I leaned over, whispering to Moira, “You’re a cunt. You know that?”
She sniggered as Rysten pelted the girl with the pepper to the head and she swayed in the chair. Her hand reached out to grasp the wooden back as she righted herself and pumped a fist in the air. The crowd went wild, throwing all kinds of spoiled goods, but she held firm and proceeded to the next round.
“Wait—so they want you to throw food at them?” he asked dubiously.
“Yep,” I said, shaking my head while Moira laughed like a fool. A dark glimmer entered his eye, but that was all he said about it for the next few contestants. One at a time, more chairs were accumulated, and bad poets were tested. Some brought snark, others used humor, and only a few dared use something as overdone as Shakespeare. This wasn’t the place or the crowd for it really. The ones who were simply booed and had nothing thrown at them were eliminated. Of the others, only those who could remain on the chair withstood. Not that we made that an easy task. Moira had quite a knack for throwing shit. I probably would, too, if my first foster home had been like hers.
The marshal stepped up and waved his hand in the most ridiculous fashion. Really, I think they picked the kid for this job because he acted the part and the crowd loved it.
“Last call for contenders in this month’s bid to be the King of Fools,” the young man broadcasted. All around the room people looked to their right and left to see if anyone wanted to join the ranks of the three fools that had ascended to the next round.
“I will.”
I turned sharply, my mouth falling open. Rysten rose out of the booth and strutted towards the marshal with unmistakable swagger. His tall stature towered over the marshal, who looked up at him uneasily. Like somehow he knew there was something about this man that he should be very, very afraid of.
“What’s your name…fool?” the marshal asked bravely.
“Rysten.”
Moira grasped my arm while he made his way to the chair, and I was questioning if it was going to break under him. It’s not like they gave them sturdy chairs.
“I can’t believe he did it. The pest has balls after all,” Moira snickered.
“You keep poking him and he’s going to snap.”
“I’m counting on it.” She licked her lips watching him with narrowed eyes. A hint of something ugly ran through my chest, almost akin to jealousy. The word my beast liked to say most frequently danced on my lips. Mine.
Moira cut her eyes at me, cocking her head.
Oops. I think that slipped out.
“Yours, huh?” she asked, her eyes shining with mirth. “Took you long enough.”
I opened my mouth, but she shushed me as Rysten began to speak.
“Rubies are red, your eyes are blue. Your soul is like fire, I want to burn, too.”
Did he just—
Oh yes, he did.
My heart thundered in my chest, beating wildly with the force of hurricane winds. The world slowed as we locked eyes and the tiniest of smiles found its way to my lips. I don’t know what it was that suddenly had me so turned on. Maybe it was the look he was giving me, that dark gleam that showed me there was so much more to him than I knew. Maybe it was the deafening silence that spoke louder than the words themselves…
Or maybe, it was the way that he withstood and did not look away from me, even as Moira threw an eggplant at his dick.
He took the hit with about as much grace as could be expected. His lips twitched in a grimace, but he held firm, standing taller than any of the other fools around him. Even as Moira literally drained an entire bucket, just on him.
She was my best friend, and as lovely, brilliant, and loyal as she was—she acted like a fucking child with the Horsemen, arguing over me day and night. She ordered them around enough, I sometimes wondered if maybe it was her destiny to rule, given how adept she was at telling people what to do.
“Alright, ladies and gents, feast your eyes upon the fools. As they prepare to recite it out, to win your favor! Let’s begin.”
Recite it out? Really? He couldn’t come up with anything better than that? Lame.
He turned to the first girl who withstood getting hit in the head with Rysten’s bell pepper, and she preceded to recite some nonsense about a llama and a desert. It was bad, but not funny, and while people booed her, they did not throw anything. She was eliminated.
Next came a stout girl with a Scottish accent that sounded like Hiccup’s mom from How to Train Your Dragon. She cleared her throat once and said, “Skinny went to take a bath, he never told a soul. Forgot to put the stopper in and slipped straight down the hole.”
I let out a small chuckle, but the real amusement was when two small children squealed in delight. People started pelting the woman with food, just to get a reaction out of the kids. She watched them with so much amusement that she didn’t see the stale bread Moira chucked her way. And just like that, she came toppling down. Another one eliminated.
They should really make people sign a waiver for this sort of thing.
The next fool stood on a chair closest to me. His baby blue eyes seemed to bounce shrewdly between me and Rysten. A sour feeling churned in my stomach when he smiled. Moira stiffened, wrapping an arm around my shoulder protectively. It was like she instinctively knew what was wrong as the boy opened his mouth.
“Roses are red, ready to pluck, I’ll pick you up at eight thirty, be ready to…” He left his poem open ended, puckering his lips at me slightly as he smiled. The room once again erupted in boos as they pelted him with food. Moira made a point of trying to knock him off with a couple well-aimed grape tomatoes for the eyes. Bastard held on tight and winked at me while he was at it.
My lips thinned into a neutral grimace as I looked to Rysten. My heart stilled in my chest at the way he eyed the human on the other chair. The guy’s face went stricken as a sheen of sweat broke out across his skin. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead, all that came out was the loudest fart I have ever heard in my life. The room went silent and Moira threw a tomato, hitting him square in the face. He toppled off the chair and caught himself with his back towards me. I then realized it wasn’t a fart.
Those were shit stains spreading across the seat of his pants.
And the smell…
“I think I’m going to be sick,” I told Moira, pinching my nose. The guy looked around as people sat wide-eyed, shaking with silent laughter, pointing fingers in his direction. His eyes skipped over them and he took off straight for the bathroom. Not even looking back when the marshal choked out, “Eliminated! Aye—can we get some air freshener up in here?”
Workers scuttled out from the corners of the restaurant where they’d hid among the crowd to laugh and cheer with us. Several people started sweeping up the food off the ground, and the girl who had brought around the buckets of vegetation earlier came forward with a crown in hand.
A paper crown to be specific, like the ones you get at Burger King.
“I crown thee, Rysten, King of Fools! At least until next month,” the dough boy-marshal declared. We pounded our empty buckets on the table as Rysten accepted his crown with grace, or with as much grace as one could while being coated in a variety of rotten and spoiled food.
With the main event over, people started filing out, but Rysten didn’t seem to be in any kind of a hurry as he sauntered over to us with way too much arrogance for someone covered in tomato juice. Behind him, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a glimmer of red. An eye that was watching me from the massive crowd departing. I peered around him, wanting to get a better look. But in a blink, it was gone.
Must have been another trick of my imagination. The beer getting to me, making me paranoid.
“King of Fools, eh?” Moira said as we slid out of our booth.
“Every queen needs a king,” Rysten murmured, opening his wallet to lay down a hundred-dollar bill. Moira didn’t comment as she stepped ahead, getting ready to wade into the night. Rysten followed behind and I watched for a moment, smiling to myself.
“Why have one when you can have four?” I whispered, trailing after them.
**Rysten**
Why have only one, you say?
Ruby, love, I think you’ve figured it out.
She may have branded War first, but I would be the second. If Julian was intent on ignoring not only his reactions towards her, but her feelings for him, who was I to get in the way?
In the meantime, her beast is pacing. Relentless. It is looking to claim its second mate.
That will be me.
I couldn’t stop myself from exploiting the human. He was making her uncomfortable. A good potential mate would not allow that, but humans don’t work that way. Particularly Ruby. She would have been upset if I killed him. My blood pushed for it. I only didn’t because he wasn’t a potential mate. Should another male try and enter the equation while she’s so vulnerable…it would go very poorly for them.
I settled for sickness. All it took was allowing the bacteria in his gut to fester and grow.
He would never know it was I who caused it.
Now that Ruby knows what she wants, I have no qualms with pursuing her. And trying to get War in check while I’m at it. She hasn’t transitioned. I don’t know how. We have already passed the deadline I assumed she wouldn’t meet, but she displayed powers that are unheard of for a demon pre-transition.
We needed to find the imp, and quickly, before something triggered her.
Time was running out. She can’t hold off forever.
Chapter 16
I flipped the sign on the front door. It was such a small act, just another chore at the end of every day that I had to do while closing. But this time was different.
This time was the last time. Blue Ruby Ink was officially closed, and I didn’t know how to feel about that. We were one of the newest, but most successful tattoo parlors in Portland. I created this business with Moira and raised it from the ground up. There was quite literally sweat, blood, and tears put into this place and now…it was over.
I already missed it because of the simplicity this life held for me. Here I was Ruby: a half-succubus whose life revolved around my clients, keeping my head down, and eating at Martha’s every Saturday.
It was a nice life. Simple.
But I had this predetermined destiny and nothing I ever did was going to stop it.
It didn’t matter that I didn’t know about it. It didn’t matter how hard I tried to avoid it, tried to resist. I could have been doing any number of things, and it would have ended this way, Kendall or no Kendall.
I guess it was a bit like damned if I do, damned if I don’t.
Hell was going to take me either way. I suppose leaving in the next few weeks when it was my choice (and I was still breathing) was probably the smart way to go.
At least that’s what I told myself as I dragged my feet back to my office.
There wasn’t any point in bemoaning the events that led me here. That would help no one. It would just be a lot simpler if I knew what exactly I was moving towards when all of this settled. Would we just go to Hell and bam—I’m queen? I wondered if I would sit at a desk much like this, ordering people about. Somehow, I didn’t think it was going to work like that. Call it a hunch, but the guys were being particularly cagey anytime I asked. That sounded awfully boring anyways, but it’s not like there’s anyone else up for the job. Except maybe Moira.
At least I’ll have her and Bandit. I wasn’t quite sure what my ferocious little raccoon would do in Hell, but I wasn’t leaving without him, so I guess we were all going to find out. Would that make him a Hellcoon now? I had no idea, but Rysten assured me he would be fine. The portals for Hell transported much more than just demons in and out, and while I’m sure he meant for that to be comforting…all it did was bring me nightmares about what I would find when we eventually got there.
Three knocks at the door made me jump. I turned back just as Moira popped her head in. She took one look at me and her brows drew together, her lips pursing before tightening into a slight frown. “Why are you in here wallowing?”
“I’m not wallowing,” I snapped. She arched a perfect eyebrow, slipping through the door and closing it softly behind her.
“Yes, you are.”
“Moira—”
“Ruby Morningstar, I have lived with you for twelve years. I know when you’re happy. I know when you’re upset. I know when something is wrong, and right now, I know you are wallowing. Don’t deny it. I know it.” Moira crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for me to cave.
“I’m not wallowing, Moira. I’m thinking. You know that thing sane people do when making huge life choices?” I quipped back. She didn’t seem to find it funny.
“Well, stop it. It’s not like we’re leaving anytime soon. We only just got the house on the market and we’ve still got to deal with getting this place cleaned out.” She looked around my office like she somehow found it lacking. I lived in organized chaos. Sue me.
“I know it’s not the end, and I know we’re not leaving yet…” I took a deep breath, looking up at the specks of dust on my ceiling that I’ve counted a thousand times before. “It’s all just moving too fast for my comfort.” I shrugged, pulling on my long sleeves awkwardly while I waited for Moira to throw her head back and laugh at me.
“You would be crazy if it wasn’t, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to tell you not to do it. You’ve been attacked more times than I’m okay with and as much as I find the Horsemen obnoxious, I know they’ll keep you safe.” I blinked when she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and pulled me close. She smelled like fresh laundry and a hint of mint. It was a scent I knew well.
“That’s surprisingly sappy for you,” I muttered into her hair.
“Tell anyone and I’ll deny it,” she huffed back.
Someone knocked on my door twice before opening it without permission.
“Excuse you,” Moira snapped. “We could have been having hot lesbian sex in here and—”
“I know she’s straight, banshee,” Laran smirked.
“You don’t know that,” Moira replied testily.
“Yes, I do.” His self-assured expression and subtle reminder about his brand made my cheeks heat. He gave me a wink and held the door open, motioning for us to go through. “Still want to go by the house before we head back to the apartment?”
“Yeah, I need to pick up a few things. Bandit’s been going stir crazy at night without his pink elephant.” Next to me, Moira grumbled in agreement. He’s been keeping us up half the damn night trying to crawl under the blankets and nip at my feet for ignoring him. Bastard drew blood last night. Yeah. Now that I think about it, he’ll probably do just fine in Hell.
“Is the banshee coming?” Laran asked.
“The banshee has a name, you know,” I replied. He didn’t even attempt to look reproachful or sorry. I thi
nk he was still a bit salty about Moira ringing him out two weeks ago for pounding down my door. Not that she was really making it any better.
“I’m going to stay and pack up some more,” Moira said, waving off the invitation.
“You sure?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’ll swing by the house afterwards to load up my car with more boxes and meet you back at the apartment,” she said, practically pushing me through the door. I kissed her cheek and headed out with Laran.
Today’s skies were a cloudless blue, but the day was already nearing sunset. Across the city, the blue darkened to indigo and violet where the sun was barely touching the horizon. Without the cloud coverage, the air was even more frigid, and my teeth started chattering in seconds.
“Cold?” Laran asked, tugging my hand out of the jacket pocket. I didn’t complain. His hand was toasty warm, abnormally so.
“How are you not?” I asked, eyeing our linked hands.
“I’m an elemental. We don’t experience cold the way the rest of demon-kind do,” he rumbled. If only he knew what that deep throaty sound did to me…
Focus, Ruby. Focus.
“You’re an elemental?” He nodded. “I didn’t know that.” He nodded again.
“We keep our powers to ourselves for the most part. If the enemy does not know the extent of what we can do, they err on the side of caution. They are more likely to make very stupid mistakes, much like the imp did with you,” he said. I didn’t want to think about the imp right now. Not after all the possible sightings I’ve had these past two weeks. Thinking too much…it made me wonder why he hasn’t tried anything. What he was planning. Our kind were not the type to forgive and forget, but instead of saying that, I steered our conversation in a different direction.
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