by Nyna Queen
Despite the nightly hour, it was quite busy, with all kinds of shady people going about their even shadier businesses.
In front of a bar to their left, a couple of suits were smoking cigars right beside a group of wrecked meth-addicts sucking on their pipes. A shabby, blind old lady with her forehead cut open and a glowing red gemstone embedded into her skin huddled at the street corner promising to predict your future for a couple of dimes.
With squeaking tires, a black stretch limo halted at the other side of the street and a woman in an expensive evening gown bespangled with heavy jewelry stepped out, immediately surrounded by a handful of bodyguards armed to the teeth with spellguns and knives. She raised her chin and tottered along the sidewalk, right past a filthy beggar in rags who was searching a waste bin for some food leftovers.
Oh yes, this was Gommorha. An arena of contrarieties, where rich and poor mingled in the same streets, turning them into an explosive mixture that detonated on a frequent basis and usually not everybody returned from a night out in her bowels.
The spider was prancing beneath Alex’s skin, agitated by the influx of stimuli. The tension raked along her nerves like a whetstone, sharpening her senses.
A pretty little flower with a dyed shock of cherry red hair broke from a near building and approached them, smoky gaze fixed on Darken. Her whole guise, including the patched over-knee leather boots and heavily caked-on makeup, marked her as a street hooker—and a cheap one at that.
Alex eyed her from head to toes and grimaced. Ugh, they’re getting younger and younger.
Noting Alex appraising glance, the little chit opened her pouty lips, showing off a mouth full of needle-thin fangs. Beside Alex, Josy gasped and stumbled a step backward.
A shaper, huh? Probably a frog from the look of those teeth.
Yep, very impressive, sugar. Wanna see mine?
Alex just smiled at the hooker and made a buzz-off movement with her fingers.
Failing to have her desired effect, the girl sniffed and stalked back to her former vantage point, sky-high heels click-clonking on the pavement, no doubt already looking out for her next possible victim.
She wasn’t the first shaper hooker Alex had encountered and sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. But this? This was child prostitution! The girl couldn’t be much older than Josy for crying out loud.
Yet perspectives weren’t exactly sunny when you were born with a second set of teeth and nails. She could easily have ended up like this as well. For a second the thought brought her back to the Highforge Community Home Orphanage, her back on the dirty floor, while the overseer’s weight pressed down on her, moaning as he fumbled with his belt, the scent of his skin, of his sweat, of his lust …
Alex shuddered and pressed her lids shut. No. This had been ages ago and she’d chosen a different path. She’d picked up the knife instead and decided she’d rather be the one to stick it in. It was a decision that was supposed to keep her out of trouble, but more often than not seemed to lead her right into it. Rachel always used to tease her about it. “I’ve never met anybody who attracts as much trouble as you do, Lex,” she’d say. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you’re looking for it.”
It wasn’t so much about looking for trouble, thank you very much, Alex thought wryly. Trouble seemed to be looking for her and somehow it always knew where to find her. Like when it had led those two little trueborn crash pilots into the Jester’s Inn to throw her world off its hinges.
And they weren’t out of the woods yet. Oh no, they had just entered the deepest part of the jungle. The one with the biggest, hungriest predators.
Beside her, Max was politely observing a band of junkies getting ready for a shot—honestly, nothing seemed to be able to faze this kid—while his sister looked more like a guppy tossed into a shark tank: frightened out of her little fins. Alex almost felt a twinge of sympathy for her. She just hoped the kid could keep it together a little while longer.
And then there was Darken. Silky, menacing, tantalizing Darken. Radiating icy heat and darkness. Darken, who raced a car from a motorway bridge and didn’t even bat an eye. Darken, who almost ran up the walls when his baby nephew got scratched.
He looked like he’d stepped right onto a battlefield. Every inch of him was suffused with tension. It was visible in the way he stood, sharp and alert; in the way his hands curled at his sides; the tight set of his jaw. His eyes roamed about, aglow with embers, and she could feel his magic seething just under his skin. All in all, he looked positively lethal right now and more than one person spontaneously decided to change the side of the street when they spotted him standing there.
Alex gave them all another moment to take it in before she faced them with a bright smile.
“Shall we?”
Taking the lead, she guided their little party along the packed main road, with Darken bringing up the rear.
The Duke of Gomorrha, self-proclaimed ruler of Gomorrha’s underworld, made his lair right in the rotten heart of the city, from where he pumped his poison outward through the veined street system.
Tall skyscrapers soared up around them like silent night guards, turning the alleyways between them into dark urban canyons that threatened to swallow you neck and crop if you dared to set foot into their forbidding territory. Beyond the light cones though, they were teeming with crawling shadows, like cockroaches scurrying in the slits between massive dumpsters.
Alex carefully scanned their depths, searching for any sign of trouble.
In a slim nook beside a burned-out store, a dark shape sprawled over a cloth-swaddled heap on the floor. For a second moonlight broke on a pair of bright yellow, reptilian-like eyes and she saw dark, viscous liquid dripping from long ivory fangs. Alex quickly averted her gaze. Who walked the streets of Gomorrha did so at his or her own peril. Whatever glittered in the dark out there could be gold as easily as deadly teeth and if you went chasing you should be prepared for both.
It wasn’t the only pair of hungry eyes she noted, though. Many eyes followed them as they picked their way through the piles of rundown shops and pubs, observing them from the shadows: weighing, assessing, calculating.
Some bold souls even had the brass neck to sneak a little closer, but one look at Darken’s face was usually enough to send them scurrying back into the holes they had emerged from.
Mugging a trueborn promised rich booty alright, but only if you survived the deed—and Darken looked more than ready to break someone’s neck with his bare hands.
For once Alex was actually glad that he was with them. She wasn’t exactly helpless, but without his intimidating presence, things might have turned messy pretty quickly. A woman with two kids walking the night streets of Gomorrha—that would have posed enough appeal to at least some idiots to take a closer sniff—and many of them only spoke the voice of the knife. It would have been a pain to have to litter their path with dropped bodies, especially since she didn’t want to announce her presence around here too loudly. Someone might still recognize her.
They passed an old, sordid theater, whose windows and doors had been barred with singed wooden beams. A group of gothic teens goofed around on the stained stairs in front of the building, boozing and smoking and listening to destructive rap music from a portable radio.
From the fumes rising from their bottles, they were drinking some homemade brew with more of a kick than a pair of draft horses. The scent alone made the spider in her cringe.
Well, that’s how many of the blind beggars in the city had started out; teenagers without calling. No money. No future. And once you got sucked into that downward spiral …
Some of the guys noticed them and pointed their fingers, whistling and hooting. Josy flinched visibly and quickly squeezed closer to Darkens side. The guys laughed at her reaction.
“Don’t be afraid little one!” one of them with a mop of black hair called over. “We don’t mean you any harm!”
“Yeah, why don’t you come over and sit with us for
a while?” another with at least a dozen piercings on his face suggested and patted the ground beside him. “And bring your hot blond friend with you!”
“Hey Blondie!” the black-haired kid crowed and waved at Alex. “Come on over, Blondie, we don’t bite!”
More laughter. Alex rolled her eyes. Didn’t hear that one before!
“Aw, don’t be shy, Blondie! We’ll take good care of you!” They laughed again and made some salacious suggestions as to what they would like to do with her.
Alex stopped in her tracks and opened her mouth to give them a clear opinion of what she thought of their ideas but Darken beat her to the punch.
He spun around so quickly even Alex gave a little start. A phantom wind whipped through the street, ripping at the newspapers, rattling lamp posts and broken glass windows.
Darkness rose around him, spiraling, surging up, until the shade of Death rode upon his shoulders. His eyes ignited bright red and a violent growl ripped from his throat, echoing through the dark street.
A bottle shattered on the floor. The teens stared at him for the course of few blistering seconds and then they took off at a dead run, screaming at the top of their lungs.
“Fuck, dude!” metal-face yelled, as they slithered and stumbled on filthy garbage. “Did you see that?”
“Yeah!” another howled. “Ruuun!”
Alex watched them vanish in a side-street and shook her head, not quite sure if she should feel grateful or annoyed for his readiness to protect her virtues. Not that there was that much left to protect.
“You don’t do things halfway, do you?”
Darken lowered his arms and turned, his expression colored with intense disgust.
“They were behaving rudely towards you. They deserved to be taught a lesson.” He said it matter-of-factly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world for a man to open the gates to hell when a girl in his company was insulted by a couple of schmucks.
Well, don’t feel too special about it, sugar. For all she knew he did that for every woman. And yet some susceptible female part of her couldn’t help feeling intrigued.
“I’m just surprised it bothered you,” she said with a shrug, stepping over the legs of a passed out drunkard in front of some dinky joint. “They were just some teenage retards thinking with their cocks instead of their alc-induced excuses of brains. I’ve heard worse. And I’m not quite the girl whose honor needs defending.”
Ah, there it was. That trueborn indignation.
“Any woman should be treated with proper respect and courtesy. Even if she is—” He paused.
Now, that ought to be interesting.
“A shaper?” Alex offered sweetly. “A simple barmaid?”
“I was about to say, even if she is swimming these waters as if she belonged to the swarm.”
Of course.
“In fact,” he fell in step beside her, “I couldn’t fail to notice that you do seem rather familiar with Gomorrha and its protective mechanisms. You also know quite a deal about ward-leaks.”
Alex gave him a guarded side glance. “Does it surprise you that there is more to me than just serving cheap drinks in a sticky dive bar?”
“Not at all.” Darken slipped his hands into his pockets as if they were taking a stroll through some trueborn mall and not walking some of the most dangerous streets the country had to offer. “I’m merely curious. Apparently, you are a woman of many talents. I’m simply trying to reconcile them with each other.”
His voice was perfectly conversational, not showing any kind of hidden purpose, but Alex could tell that there was more to it than plain curiosity. There always was.
“The way you found that hole in the wards in so little time …” Darken clucked his tongue. “Impressive. Really impressive. Learning to access Gomorrha like this … that must have taken quite some practice.”
So that’s the way the wind was blowing.
Alex sighed and stopped to look at him. “You can’t just drop it, can you? I brought us in. Can’t you just leave it at that?”
Something sparked in the darkness of his eyes. Something sharp and fierce, that made her stomach flip over. “I’m afraid it is not in my nature to leave things uncovered.”
They crossed the busy main street and entered a smaller, emptier alley.
“Well, I really hope you like to blunt your teeth, then.”
A predatory smile curved Darken’s lips. “My teeth are very persistent.”
You don’t say.
Alex smiled back. “Be my guest. If I’m lucky you might actually suffocate on it.”
Not that she expected to be so lucky. Luck, the bitch, hadn’t exactly favored her in the last couple of days and she had a feeling they weren’t getting ahead yet.
Darken heaved a sigh and shook his head in half-mock exasperation. “You are quite an irritable person, did anybody ever tell you that?”
And you’re such a sunshine.
“I believe you are the first woman I ever met who turns being courteous into such a challenge.”
“Look, you don’t pay me for being friendly—in fact, you don’t pay me at all, so I may as well be as bloody damn irritable as I like.”
Max snickered.
Darken sighed again. “You really don’t make it easy for people to tolerate your presence. Just how do you get by in life, I wonder?”
Alex gave him a big carefree smile indicating her true teeth now safely hidden beneath her human gums.
“I have very persistent teeth, too. And then, I can always use one or two of the sharp arguments I’ve got hidden up my sleeves.”
He raised his hands in an I-give-up fashion. “You know, most women use their charms to get what they want.”
Alex pondered that for a moment, trying to puzzle out if he had just said that she did have charms but didn’t know how to use them to her advantage or that he’d meant to say that she, in contrast to most women, didn’t possess any. Since he hadn’t exactly been full of compliments so far, she decided that he’d probably meant to insult her.
“Well, where would be the fun in that?” she asked sweetly.
They rounded a corner and she raised both hands. “Heeere we are. May I give you—the Morpheus!”
A frown gouged Darken’s forehead at the sight of the solitary little club nestling in the shadow of a dark office building.
Admittedly, the Morpheus didn’t look too impressive from the outside: Its black metal door was covered in halfheartedly over painted graffiti and the roped-off area that marked where people lined up was completely empty at the moment. Plus, the club sign was so trashy it gave you the strong desire to pluck out your eyes at its mere sight. The club’s name was glued to the wall in bright blue neon letters. Beneath it was the stylized body of a syringe, whose needle ended in a drop of blood, which, on its part, turned into a madly blinking red heart that sported the overly creative slogan “Let all your dreams come true.”
Despite its heartbreaking lack of originality, the slogan was meant to hint at all the different businesses that took place behind the Morpheus’ unassuming walls, girls—the obvious—being just the top of the iceberg of this dubious enterprise. But like its natural counterpart, its biggest parts were invisible and beneath the surface. So yes, from the outside the Duke’s lair might look like a shabby backyard club that wasn’t too well frequented, but from the inside …
Well, appearances could be deceptive. She knew that only too well. And when she’d left the Morpheus the last time she had sincerely hoped she would never have to return to it.
Hello fate, you little bitch, and here you backstabbed me again!
Waving for the others to follow, Alex marched toward the smeared black doors.
A brawny bouncer with a bald head in a black suit jacket stepped into their way as they approached, blocking their entrance. He threateningly drew up to his full height—sweet Jester, the guy was huge!—and crossed his massive arms in front of his wide chest, giving them a hard stare.
> “Adults only!”
Tattoos adorned his fingers, spacing out the words “H.A.R.D/C.O.R.E.” Wow, that guy was so cliché.
Unimpressed by his display, Alex rested a fist on her hip and flashed her true eyes at him, revealing herself as a shaper. “Tell your boss that Harley Jones is here for business.”
The bouncer measured her with an appraising glance, but finally shrugged and walked over to the wall-comms beside the security door. He punched a couple of buttons and then lowly spoke into the speech device, delivering her message.
“Harley Jones?” Darken mouthed beside her.
“Kaden Jeroux?” she mouthed back. That silenced him.
There was a moment of static noise from the comms and then a few distorted words from the loudspeaker. The bouncer turned around and waved them over with two fingers.
“You’ll be received.”
If he was surprised about that fact, he didn’t show it. Hell, his face could have been made from stone for all it showed.
Alex gave him a curt nod and stalked past with all the casualness she could muster. It wasn’t like she’d really expected to be turned down. Granted, she and the Duke hadn’t exactly parted on best terms when they had last met, but he wasn’t someone to miss out on a chance of a deal and he would at least hear her out for the sake of old times before deciding to turn her down—or worse. Didn’t mean she wasn’t relieved at all.
Behind each other, they stepped through the heavy metal doors, into the Morpheus’ wide-open maw.
A NARROW tunnel led down in front of them, its walls completely draped in black felt. The small lightbulbs dangling from the ceiling didn’t give up nearly enough light to see one’s own feet. It was like being suspended between two worlds, following a dark trail into the underworld.