by Maya Daniels
I can’t speak so I give her a few jerky nods so she knows I hear her. Everything I believed my whole life so far tells me to shrink back and make myself as small as possible so the death rays don’t reach me. Facing a hundred hunters in close quarters is better than this. Hunters I can fight. I have a chance of survival if it’s a physical enemy. I can’t fight the sun. Other than the moon pushing it to sink below the horizon, nothing can. A rational part of my brain is telling me I might be overreacting a little, but the terror is drowning it.
A bright burst of light makes me shriek, plastering me to the wall so much I’m almost molded to it. It’s lucky I’m rooted to my spot of darkness or else I might do something stupid, like bolt into the death rays. The fact that the mouth of the alley is far enough for me to be safe does not even register right now. Fenrir pops out of nowhere with Leo in his wolf form right next to him, close enough for me to feel the bristling hairs of the shifter on my legs. The Fae jerks, his gaze searching the alley. When he finds me, his outstretched arms freeze, but he looks like he’s ready to tackle me.
“If you make me move from this spot, I’ll rip your throat out before the death rays kill me.” My voice is a little more high-pitched than I’m comfortable with. I’ll have time to feel mortified for acting like an idiot when I stop freaking out, and not until then. “I’ll take you with me.”
“The sun.” Astara flings a hand and points at the mouth of the alley when Fenrir turns a confused face her way.
I swear the damn wolf is laughing at me.
My leg jerks on its own and I kick him harder than I want. He snaps his death trap of a jaw at my knee, but not even that can force me out of my spot. The asshole that caused all this scrambles to his feet, probably thinking we are too busy to stop him. Well, I’m too busy freaking out, but Leo isn’t. He pounces on his back, slamming him face down. It’s quite satisfying to hear the crack of his forehead and the breaking of his cartilage against the concrete. My body relaxes and my heart slows, even though it is still galloping against my ribs like a racehorse.
I thrust the book at Fenrir.
“You got it.” His shoulders visibly relax the moment his long fingers wrap around it.
“No thanks to your idiocy with that illusion.” Remembering I’m pissed at him, I snatch the book back. “I thought we were supposed to be getting the book. Isn’t that what you said oh mighty Fae?”
Yup, the wolf is snickering. Creepy.
“I got a little carried away.” He has the decency to look crestfallen. “They did not fight like typical demons.” He frowns at the unconscious guy with an over two-hundred-pound wolf sitting on his back. “They were faster … stronger.”
“Typical of a male to underestimate his opponent,” Astara hums in agreement. “Can we go back now?”
My brain is still clouded with fear but the panic is at a somewhat bearable level. That helps for me to actually see Fenrir instead of just his face. His hair has escaped the elastic band leaving it wild around his shoulders and chest. His tight black shirt is shredded to shit where the demon has raked his claws. Blood makes the tattered fabric stick to his defined muscles, which are visible through the tears. The leg is also ripped on his right thigh, the pocket of the tactical pants hanging sideways like a gaping mouth. Leave it to Fenrir to still look ready for the cover of a magazine even with the smudge of dirt across his left cheek and forehead. I can just see the headline: “Wild and Sexy.”
My brain is definitely messed up.
“You okay?” Astara touches my arm and I’m proud that I don’t flinch.
Little things Franky, little things.
“No, but I’m better.” Turning away from Fenrir’s intent gaze, I blow out a breath. “I didn’t mean to freak out like that, sorry,” I add lamely. “It’s just … I didn’t expect it, and I don’t know why.”
“If it makes you feel better, I actually clawed my way up my brother’s back the first time I saw it.” Astara snickers. I crack a smile imagining how Zoltan reacted to that. “It’s a hard instinct to fight. You are doing better than many males I’ve seen.”
“That doesn’t say much.” Even Fenrir chuckles at that. “Can we go back now?” I repeat my question, my fingers rubbing over the leather book.
“We need to get to a portal to go back.” Fenrir sighs. I can tell the Fae is itching to get his hands on the book I’m holding.
“We can wait for night to come here, right?” I sound hopeful, handing it over just so they don’t notice my hands are shaking while holding the heavy book.
“Or we can try and go now.” At the horror on my face, Fenrir rushes to make his point. “You don’t know if you can walk the daylight. All I’m saying is we can try. We will retreat if you can’t and wait here.”
The bustling of the world across the mouth of the alley is like a siren song. The idea of actually being there, seeing it all bathed in the golden death rays is more appealing than it should be if I had an ounce of brain functioning the way it should. Astara’s comforting squeeze on my arm pulls my gaze to her. She is as nervous as I am. Even Leo stops panting, his tongue hanging to one side in excitement. I push off the wall, squaring my shoulders before I lose my shit and curl up on the nasty ground. Keeping my eyes locked on the light, I stride toward it as dread rakes its claws through me and fear almost chokes me. Clenching my fists, I don’t even slow down when I feel the warmth of it wash over my skin. Astara and Fenrir hover right at my back. Everything in me screams to turn back. An insane idea pops in my head.
And when have you ever done something smart.
Closing my eyes, I step out of the shadows.
8
My heart stops right before it starts thundering so hard and loud it mutes the honking horns and sounds of life in the city. The sting on my skin is uncomfortable but not painful, so I stand still even though I’m ready to bolt back at the first sign that something is wrong. A smile spreads slowly, growing so wide my cheeks hurt from it. That’s until I open my eyes.
With a high-pitched scream, I jump back and cover my face. The fires of hell are blazing behind my lids and melting my eyeballs. Astara pulls my face to her chest and squeezes me tight, saying something to Fenrir over my head. They sound like they are arguing but it’s all just noise because of the agony I’m in. I can’t catch a damn break in this cursed life of mine. Is one day with no pain too much to ask? Is one thing going right for me too much to hope for?
Tears stream down my face and soak my friends shirt, her chest vibrating against the forehead I’m pressing on it. Her fingers move up and down my back, soothing and calming as they ride the excruciating pain with me. The heat from Fenrir’s body disappears from my back, telling me he has moved away. The hum from their voices is gone too. I have no idea how long Astara keeps rubbing my back and rocking me gently in her arms, which is something my own mother has never done. The sound slowly returns, my brain scrambled from first the portal and now this.
“Shhh,” Astara coos. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would be that hard on your eyes.”
“This one is on me, not you,” I tell her shirt, still afraid to open my eyes. “You suggested, but I could’ve said no.”
“Good thing it’s an easy thing to fix.” She pulls back to hold me at arm’s length. I squint at her, eyes open like slits.
“How? Buy new eyeballs?” Sounding dejected, I rub my still-watering eyes.
“I have something better than that,” Fenrir pipes in, entering the alley. I didn’t even know he left it.
“I don’t want anything from you.” Blinking fast, I finally see more than just blurry outlines and distorted faces. “Every time you offer something, shit hits the fan and I’m the screwed party.”
“She figured you out, Fenrir.” Astara giggles, her voice tinkling like chiming bells.
“I’m not doing anything to purposely hurt you.” He shoves something black at me and I swat it away.
“I’m not doing anything to purposely piss you off, yet here we a
re.” When he looks at me deadpan, I grin. “Not all the time anyway.”
“Put them on.” He shoves that thing in my hands again.
Sunglasses.
I almost laugh.
Turning them in my hands, I watch the black, round plastic, flicking the handles open. The lenses are big enough to reach from my forehead to halfway down my cheeks. Lifting them in front of my face, I point them at the Fae.
“I’ll look like a fly wearing these.” He purses his lips. “Did you get some clothing too? If you didn’t notice, I’m a mess. I’ll scare the shit out of any human we come across.”
“I’ll use illusion so no one will see us.” He waves a hand at himself, pointing out that his clothing is ripped as well. Yet he walked among them to get the sunglasses.
Stabbing the sunglasses over my ears, I lift my face and stretch my arms in front of me. Waving them around, I slap Fenrir’s chest and face while pretending I’m blind. Astara laughs when he grabs my wrists and scowls at me.
“Oh, I didn’t see you there, Fenrir,” I tell him innocently, my voice pitched like a child. “ Great job of hiding the death rays from my peepers.”
“”I’ll carry the male.” Releasing my wrists, he strides to where Leo is still perched on top of the asshole. “We need to go. Maybe we can even question him before going back.”
All my humor disappears with those words. When the agony melting my eyes stops, I feel so relieved I almost dance from happiness. Reminding me of why I’m even here is like someone dousing me with a truck load of reality. The pressure returns to my chest and prevents me from fully expanding my lungs.
Fenrir returns carrying the guy in a fireman carry over his shoulders. Leo trots next to him, his ears pointed up and one flicking at every noise that sounds. They pass us, disappearing in the daylight without a word from the Fae. Astara folds her arm under mine and takes me with her.
My second attempt at facing the death rays is much better than the first. I’m still too chickenshit to fully open my eyes so I’m squinting through the glasses like an idiot. At least my eyeballs are not melting, which I consider a win. It doesn’t take long for my curiosity to make me forget everything apart from this new world. In another life, I must’ve been a feline shifter. There is no other explanation. I would use my brain to be more careful otherwise.
Humans dressed in warm clothing duck their heads in the collars of their jackets while rushing wherever they need to go. Cars streak by moving in both directions, the drivers honking or yelling out the open windows. Doors open and close from stores and businesses, letting out music or chatter that floats through the air with each exit or entrance. Laughter dances around my ears, and I find myself smiling while rubbernecking so I can see it all. Night was beautiful and familiar the first time I was here. Day is something totally different.
“They act differently during the day,” I tell Astara while she guides me by the arm, waving pedestrians through so we don’t bump into them.
“They feel safer in the daytime.” She looks around too, as if trying to see what I see. “I haven’t paid them much attention.”
“Why?” My forehead scrunches up in confusion. I find them fascinating.
“We deal with hunters mostly when we come across the portal.” Sighing, she hurries after Fenrir, who is walking like he owns this world. “Or some other problem needs fixing.”
“Like what?” My eyebrows lift when I notice the Fae swinging his arm with the book in his hand. “He should’ve hidden the book instead of waving it around.”
“He is casting an illusion so no one can see it.” I still feel uneasy even with Astara’s assurance.
“Where is the portal?” I can’t help but ask when we turn a corner and a stretch of residential buildings stretches in front of us.
“I guess Fenrir wants to question the traitor before taking him back to the Academy.” I stiffen when Astara takes a meaningful breath. “I know you’ve been avoiding me because you think I blame you for what happened, Franky.”
“I am to blame,” I rasp out, guilt thickly etched into my tone. “They wanted me. They took Zoltan instead.” A lump forms like a fist in my throat.
Fenrir and Leo enter a building on our side of the street through glass double doors. I bite the inside of my mouth, not knowing what else to say to break the oppressive silence between us.
Swallowing thickly, I clear my throat. “I’ll get him back alive if it’s the last thing I do.” I promise her, and it’s the truth. I won’t stop until he is back where he belongs, even if that means I trade places with him, portals be damned.
“We will get him back. And stop blaming yourself and avoiding me. Roberti and Alex are to blame, not you. As well as Cassius and that bitch of a daughter of his.”
I hum just so I don’t have to tell her she is wrong. We move up the couple of stairs to the double doors and enter the building as well. A decorative rug sits in a circle at our feet. Two small side tables with large vases full of plastic flowers hug the wall on either side of us. Two elevators, their stainless steel doors showing us our reflections, are in front of us across the decent-sized lobby. No low-cost apartments for the Daywalkers, that’s for sure.
Astara stabs the up button placed between the two elevators and I stare at the red-glowing numbers above the one to our left. My thoughts return, the same ones I had while stretched out on top of a bookshelf in the library. Roberti’s words are like a haunting song replaying in my mind. The elevator dings, the door slides open, and we both step inside, Astara pressing the top button. Leaning on the metal bar, I press the side of my head on the mirrored wall and breathe through the freefall feeling my stomach gets when the metal box jerks and moves up.
“It’s not what I want, Drake. It’s what everyone wants. Don’t you see? Who decided that vampires are the top of the food chain, that the rest of us should crawl at their feet? You think the shifters and the demons don’t loathe being guards. Being treated like the dirt under their shoe.”
Roberti’s voice is so loud in my head it’s like he is standing next to me screaming the words in my ear. Closing my eyes, I snort air through my flaring nostrils, barely holding myself up from the weight pressing on my chest. Now that the adrenaline is gone from, seeing beefy guy trying to get a book to Alex—with help from the demons from the library of course—has a whole different meaning. How many of the others feel the same as the three we upper handed? Andrius is insane and power hungry for sure, but how much of what he said is true? The elevator jerks to a stop and I numbly follow Astara to the only door on this floor.
Fenrir left it open for us, so we walk into a huge open-plan apartment. The living room and kitchen are separated only by a long slash of a marble counter. Three leather couches, warm chocolate brown, are facing each other in front of a cinema-sized flat-screen TV. A coffee table that looks like an old-time suitcase is placed between them, decorative books set messily on top of it. Marble tiles cover the floors, the sunlight coming through the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows reflecting. The city stretches in front of me, and it’s beautiful. A long dining table is right in front of the windows, chairs surrounding it. One of those chairs has been pulled to the center of the empty space and beefy guy has been dumped in it. Fenrir throws a glass jar full of water in his face just as we enter.
“Wakey, wakey, princess.” Leo walks in from a hall to our left, tugging a pair of sweatpants up his hips. Beefy guy gasps, coughs, and flails in the chair.
“Let’s start with where Alexius is.” Casually, Fenrir walks up the marble slab and places the now-empty jar on it with a soft clink. “Then we will move on to your great idea about stealing from the Academy.” Turning around, he leans his back on it and folds his arms over his chest.
Hair plastered around his head, water and blood mixing and dripping from his face, beefy guy jerks his head to look at each of us in turn, his eyes so wide there is whiter than anything else in them. “You are going to kill me anyway, so why should I tell you anything?
”
“True,” Leo grins at him wolfishly while scratching at his chest. “It’s up to you if you die fast or very, very slowly.” If it’s possible, the guy pales even more. “What’s it going to be princess?”
“Why did you do it?” Everyone in the room looks at me when I speak but I ignore them and focus on the guy, staring at him through the stupid sunglasses.
“I have nothing to say to you half blood,” he snarls at me, spittle flying from his mouth.
Leo clocks him in the jaw so hard his head snaps back and he topples on the floor with the chair. Grabbing him by the hair, the shifter yanks him up, straightening the chair before dumping him in it again. Dusting his hands by slapping them together, he waits for a second to see if the guy will fall again, but the asshole just looks dazed.
“Now answer her question,” Leo says cheerfully. A shiver passes through me. I know he is an Alpha, but I never imagine he will be like this while beating someone up.
“I don’t know.” The words are thick, like he bit his tongue when Leo punched him.
It goes as expected. Every question we ask, the answer is always the same. He keeps saying he doesn’t know. I have to step in twice before the shifter kills him, too scared we won’t find anything about where to look for Zoltan, or if he is dead. The whole time Fenrir leans on that damn marble slab, his face impassive. He doesn’t say a word. That’s until his entire body stiffens and his head jerks to the front door that we left open.
“Oh look.” Myst leans on the door dressed all in black leather, her blonde hair streaked with white highlights, the hilt of a sword sticking from her back. “It’s a party and I wasn’t invited.” She pouts at Fenrir who looks ready to faint or run.
How interesting.
9
“So,” Myst drawls, pushing off the door and striding inside the apartment. “What are we doing?” Her head tilts this way and that as she checks the half-conscious on the chair. “Cool look on you, Chicca. It’s a definite deterrent for males.” She swirls a finger at my face and person as she passes by me.