“So, you do know who I am.”
She shrugged once. “You were the best hunter they had, but you didn’t like to play by the rules. Got your hands dirty too much. Had a knack for hunting witches and warlocks specifically . . .” Her voice trailed. “I assume that has to do with whatever Kenneth did to piss you off.”
“Well, aren’t you a smart witch?” I said sarcastically.
“You disappeared off record a few years ago, but you weren’t reported dead. Given the talk about your boss, I take that to mean you just went to work for someone who didn’t mind you playing a little dirty.”
“Something like that,” I muttered. I wasn’t planning to tell her the actual reason I went after those witches and warlocks had very little to do with hunting Kenneth, and more to do with the reason I needed Kenneth at all.
“How do we find Greta?” I asked, noting that we’d walked several blocks already into a part of the city I was familiar with, but not intimately so. It was a supernatural sector. While humans could come in and out, it was ninety percent supes, if not more. Smart humans knew to avoid this place. Only those truly desperate set foot in this area.
“We don’t,” Nathalie said. “She’s not hiding.”
All at once she came to a stop. I looked up at the building.
Sin.
The letters shone in bright, glowing purple. It was one of the biggest supe clubs, and one of the shadiest places in New Chicago.
“Greta is a little too vain for her own good. Combine that with her power-hungry nature, she comes here looking for a man with enough juice so that it’s worth her time.”
Aka, she harvested magic. Something that was a crime, not that it was ever enforced unless you did it to the wrong person.
“She’d come here, even after the summoning?” I asked.
“She’d come here because of the summoning. She’s a mid-level black witch. She’s going to need all the power she can get to keep herself alive when it’s every man for themselves.”
I couldn’t argue with that. Nathalie started for the door, and I paused her.
“If this is a trap, I don’t think I have to tell you how sorry—”
“Piper, the fact that I’m aligning with you should say all there is to know about my loyalties. I don’t know you. I just know of you, and I’ve seen what you can do. Believe me when I say, I have no intention of screwing you over. You’re my best chance of staying alive.”
I searched her expression, and while none of the telltale signs of a liar were there, it was still hard to trust her. I motioned with my hand for her to go first, and Nathalie smiled.
I really, really hoped I wasn’t going to regret this.
10
Music and something else pulsed through the air.
Magic. I wrinkled my nose in distaste.
Purple and blue lights strobed over the club as a low, sultry tune called to me. My hackles rose as the rhythm tried to force the stiffness from my shoulders.
Relax, it seemed to say. Let your hair down. You don’t mean any harm.
There was no actual voice calling to me, but the magic tried to do its work all the same.
“Go with it,” Nathalie said under her breath. “The spell isn’t meant to lower your inhibitions, just to keep the violence outside their doors. The harder you fight, the more it will pull—and that will lower your inhibitions.”
“It won’t do us much good if we find her and I’m too busy drinking or dancing to notice.”
Nathalie snorted. “Somehow I don’t see that being a problem.”
I pressed my lips together as we made our way toward the bar. Supernaturals and humans alike milled about. Nathalie squeezed herself in between two larger men, both turned the opposite way of her, flirting with different women. She lifted her hand and hailed down the bartender who came around the side and flipped a panel up to exit.
“Nat,” he breathed in relief, picking her up and hugging her tight. “Where’ve you been? I heard about what happened. Your parents, they—” His dark blue hair and yellow cat-eyes had me stiffening. Nathalie must have figured as much because she flipped on the charm, putting a finger to his lips.
“Not here, Barry. You got somewhere we can talk privately?” she asked, her gaze flicking to me. He glanced over, his eyes raking over me before narrowing.
“Come with me,” he said. I didn’t miss the way he grabbed her hand and practically dragged her through the crowd. I followed a few feet behind them as he went around the staircase and through a lounge. The lights were dimmed, and the magic was different. More enticing. Alluring. Judging by the events happening on the couches, it wasn’t as innocent as what Nathalie claimed was happening in the club. Little did she know, I was completely aware of the spells. It was the only thing that stopped me from being pulled in.
Thanks to my own interesting background, I was more susceptible to magic and all its effects.
Barry rounded the corner and pulled us into an empty hallway.
“Who is she?”
I regarded the fae-witch hybrid and then turned to lift a brow at Nathalie. How she answered decided how far this little partnership went.
“Keeping me safe.”
Barry relaxed a fraction. “You hired a bodyguard?”
She looked at him like that was a ridiculous notion. “No. Paid help would only turn on me for a higher dollar.” I nodded to myself, silently agreeing. “She’s a friend.”
Barry took his time staring at me. “She doesn’t look very friendly.”
“I’m not,” I replied, flashing him a smile that was all teeth.
He took a step back. I didn’t miss the amusement on Nathalie’s face before she stowed it. By the time Barry was looking at her again, she was a genuine, sweet-looking girl.
I narrowed my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Look, Barry, I need your help.” She took both his hands between hers. Those big brown eyes turned pleading.
“You could say that twice, Nat. You were excommunicated this morning. Your parents have disowned you, and they’ve offered a reward for your head.”
Her pulse quickened but fear never flashed in her eyes. Only sad acceptance. She’d known this was her fate from the moment I took her. “I’m not surprised,” she said, using the words to gather herself. I wondered if the bartender noticed. “That’s why I need your help. I’m looking for someone. I need to find them.”
“Who?” He didn’t hesitate to help her. I was beginning to see the girl’s usefulness. She ascribed to a different tactic. Where I believed that a well-aimed shot could solve most things, she used innocent manipulations to keep her ass alive.
“Greta McArthur.”
He visibly shuddered. A moment passed. “If my mother finds out I helped you, I’ll be dead,” he said softly. Then he cupped her cheek. “But Greta is a raging cunt. Even if I didn’t care for you, I’d do it. Come with me.” His hand slid from her cheek, and he stalked past me.
“I’m surprised he didn’t ask whether we wanted to kill her or just interrogate,” I murmured as we followed him out.
“It doesn’t matter to him,” Nathalie replied. “If we kill her, she suffers. If she talks, she suffers.”
I stared at the hybrid’s back as he escorted us back to the staircase and started climbing.
“She must have really pissed him off.”
We got to the top of the stairs where a balcony wrapped around the entire club, overlooking the festivities below. Beyond that, a much nicer lounge took up most of the space. The lights were so low I could only make out bodies, but not who they were or what they were doing.
“She tortured him growing up, and their parents did nothing,” Nathalie muttered back.
Ouch. Witches and warlocks really were some of the worst of the lot as far as supernaturals went. I had a feeling, based on his features, the kid was a by-product of adultery, likely the mother.
“I don’t want your pity,” Barry said, without looking at me. That fae
hearing of his must come in handy.
“You don’t have it,” I replied.
He regarded me coolly before nodding once. “I don’t particularly care what you do about my sister as long as she doesn’t know I helped you.”
“You won’t have to worry about that when I’m done.”
His yellow eyes blinked, then he nodded.
“Follow this around the left side to the last door on the right. She’ll be in there.”
With that, Barry turned and kissed Nathalie on the cheek.
“Thanks, Barry,” she whispered softly.
“Be safe, Nat.” He glanced sideways at me, and Nathalie gave him a tight smile.
I started down the carpeted walkway that hugged the glass railing overlooking the club.
“Don’t take it personal—” Nathalie started, walking fast to keep up with my longer gait. I didn’t slow down.
“I don’t,” I replied. “He’d be an idiot to trust me.”
She snorted. “You know for someone that needs help, you sure like reminding me that you could turn on me.”
“Need is a bit of a stretch here,” I said as we approached the door.
“You’re not keeping me around for my charming personality or badass magic,” she deadpanned.
I almost grinned at that, but we were at the door.
I pulled a pistol from my holster. One that had a silencer on it. Thankfully, this being a supe club, there were no cameras to speak of, and the darkness provided me with a natural cloak. And unless anyone here was looking too closely—they’d never know anyone entered or left the room.
Just the way I liked it.
“So how do we do this—” Nathalie started. I grabbed the handle and flung the door open. The heavy scent of magic pulled at me, trying to calm the violence in my blood, but there was something else in the air as well. A faint smoke drifted over me, filling me with warmth. My core tightened. I grit my teeth.
Motherfucking witches.
God, I hated magic.
I took a step forward, and Nathalie muttered, “Alright, guess we’re doing it this way.”
Ignoring her, I followed the scent of smoke around the corner. It opened up into a larger bedroom. A king-sized bed took up most of the space.
In it, the witch I presumed to be Greta McArthur wore lingerie and was busy being pleasured by three different men.
None of them had yet to notice me, despite the intrusion. The sounds of the club filtered through, but they were faint. Someone without my greater hearing likely wouldn’t hear them at all. Which brought up the question of how they’d yet to notice when the door opened.
I had a feeling the decorative gravity bong filling the room with a moderate aphrodisiac had a lot to do with it.
“I’m assuming you can’t bind them,” I said under my breath.
“Uh, I wouldn’t rely on it if I were you.”
I sighed.
This job was going to get fucking messy and fast. I didn’t believe in any gods, but I might need to start after I was done.
Lifting the pistol, I fired off two quick shots.
The man sitting behind her whose chest she braced against went limp as his head exploded in an impersonation of a Jackson Pollock painting. She didn’t even have time to react before the one eating her out also lost his head. The back part of his skull decorated her naked abdomen, and his body went limp.
“Holy shit,” Nathalie murmured in quiet awe—or fear—frankly, I wasn’t sure which.
The third man who was sucking her breast turned as blood splattered his cheek.
I fired a third shot, right between the eyes, and he dropped dead.
“Hello, Greta.”
She opened and closed her mouth. I had to give it to her, I was surprised she didn’t scream. More battle-hardened criminals than her had buckled under the initial shock of meeting me. My brand of acquiring information was far less appealing than Nathalie’s.
Her throat bobbed. I couldn’t make out her eye color in the low light, as her dilated pupils expanded.
Then at once, she recovered from her shock. She lunged to the side, starting a quick curse under her breath. I popped a shot that landed in her right hip and the curse died behind her gasp. Real pain filled her expression.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I said, walking toward the bed.
“You’re going to kill me either way.” She laughed bitterly. Painfully. “I won’t talk.”
“If you know that, then you have a decent understanding of why I’m here, yes?”
Her lips pursed. She knew.
“You won’t find him,” she said. “Not through me.”
I tilted my head. “You already know you’re going to die. Your silence only drags it out, Greta. Better to speak, and I’ll make it quick.”
She looked at me, her skin colored in crimson. Blood splattered her thighs, her face, her arms, and stomach. The wound at her side bubbled and moving even an inch solicited a harsh hiss from her lips. I got the impression she wanted to fight. She clung to life even though she knew this was death.
Most did. When they realized there was a real chance of dying, people got desperate. Her being one of the weaker supes, at least in body, all it would take was a shot to the head or enough blood loss and she’d be gone.
“Even if I wanted to, I can’t.”
“He put a blocker on you?” I asked, suspecting that might be the case. A blocker would make it complicated, but certainly not impossible.
“Yes,” she spat. “You won’t find Kenneth. Not before he finds you.”
Her second sentence made me still. “He?” I asked softly. My heart started to beat faster, anticipating her answer.
She grinned maniacally. “The one looking for you.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Who put a blocker on you?” I demanded.
When she smiled again, my heart drummed harder.
“You might be looking for Kenneth, but he found us first. I talk, I die.”
“You’re dying either way,” I snapped.
“Maybe,” she said, looking away. “If I’m good, I might not.”
“What’s she talking about?” Nathalie said in a rush of breath.
“The demon,” I murmured. “He’s coming for me.”
Nathalie visibly paled in the low light. “But that’s not—”
“Possible?” I said. “A great many things are possible for demons.” It was cryptic, but I wasn’t saying more. Not in front of Greta, who seemed to think there might be a chance she could survive this.
Which meant . . . she was expecting backup.
This was a trap. This whole fucking thing was a trap.
Somehow, in the few short days he’d been on earth, the demon had tracked down the coven—but he didn’t care about them. For some odd reason, he wanted me.
Now the people I had to find and kill were the traps meant to lure me to him.
I could not leave. I could choose to hide. But Anders knew my location. Picking up and moving wouldn’t be so easy. Not with the reason I was hunting them to begin with.
“How long do we have?” I demanded.
The door to the room opened, but Nathalie was standing at my side.
Greta smiled.
It was too late. He’d found me.
11
My heart rate kicked up another notch. After undergoing the crash so recently, I was dangerously close to slipping back into my other form. I couldn’t allow that to happen.
Not if I was planning to leave Nathalie alive after all this.
I turned and fired, shooting Greta in the head.
The smile on her face had only slightly dimmed when her body slumped back against the bed.
Magic brushed against my skin. A tingling awareness shot up my spine, making the hairs on my neck stand to attention. A sensual exhale left my lips, more akin to a moan as the smoking aphrodisiac pulled me under.
At least that’s what I told myself. The alternate possibili
ty was harder to accept.
I felt it the moment he stepped into the room. While I didn’t turn to look at him, I sensed his eyes on me. Watching.
“Leave us,” he commanded.
Nathalie’s eyes widened. She looked from me to the man standing over my shoulder, and she swallowed hard.
“No,” her voice quaked. That single word earned her more respect than anything she’d said or done before this moment.
“You defy me?” he asked, seeming as surprised as I that she didn’t turn and run when given the chance.
“I won’t leave her,” Nathalie answered with steel behind her voice that she hadn’t used with me. I closed my eyes and shook my head. Stupid girl.
For as smart as she was, she should have taken his offer.
“Does she mean anything to you?” he asked, his tone changing. It was less demanding and more curious.
“She’s—” Nathalie started.
“Not you,” he said, cutting her off. “Piper.”
My name on his lips made my heart quicken. I was treading dangerously close to the point of losing control.
“Let her go,” I breathed.
“No, I told you I’m sticking with—” Nathalie started.
“Leave me,” I commanded her. “Your goal is to live. Do that. I’ll be fine.”
She paused, her brown eyes flicking between me and the demon.
It wasn’t completely altruistic why I was ordering her to leave. In truth, I had a feeling my other side would be surfacing very soon, and when it did—I didn’t want her seeing it. On the off chance we managed to kill or evade him, she couldn’t know what I was.
Which meant she needed to leave. Because if I got out of here, I didn’t want to kill her.
“Will you?” she asked, and I mean really asked. I could tell that she wasn’t looking for a surface answer. She wasn’t seeking escape, though. I didn’t understand it. I’d held her hostage, and yet she wanted to work with me. I threatened to kill her, yet she didn’t take the first chance to run. Either she put far greater confidence in my own abilities than she should have, or she was operating on some fucked-up version of loyalty.
Touched by Fire: Magic Wars (Demons of New Chicago Book 1) Page 7