“That’s so sweet!” Sarah said, and I smiled, turning to DJ.
“Yes, it is just so, so, sweet, sweet like brownies and chocolate,” I said. If this was going to be our reality, I was going to have some fun with it. “You know, the best part about DJ is how thoughtful he is. He buys me a pound of chocolate from every country we visit and he even paid for my HBO subscription as a surprise gift.”
“This is so unlike DJ!” Caitlin exclaimed. I smugly folded my arms as DJ had no choice but to go along with what was said.
“I think later, he may even provide us with the HBO Go info so we can all watch Westworld, aren’t you buddy?”
“Sure,” DJ said, his face growing red.
It took all of my power not to laugh. See, I can lead a dance too, punk.
“By the way, aren’t there more coming?” Sarah asked.
Oh, damnit.
“I was texting him…” I said, but when I pulled out my phone, nothing new had been said since my last text some five minutes ago in the car.
I exchanged a look with DJ. I didn’t like the situation at all. Cab drivers didn’t take this long in a city like this, not when Brady spoke enough German that he could accuse the cab driver of deliberately going the wrong way. My mind immediately went to the prospect of demons taking control of him, a possibility that seemed disturbingly likelier after my conversation with Tyrus.
A brief ding interrupted us.
“Oh, the cookies,” Sarah said.
Well, at least DJ won’t look a fool.
Or should I say, damnit, DJ won’t look a fool.
I connected to the WiFi at their house after Caitlin gave it to me and called Brady through WhatsApp. It went straight to voicemail. I texted him and the message didn’t even go through.
At best, his battery had died. At worst…
“Your friends are probably just a few minutes away. It can be easy to get lost in this city,” Sarah said, but red flags flew up in my head, sailing at full mast.
I patted the sides of my hips, making sure not to actually touch Ebony and Ivory, but making clear to DJ my intent. He nodded and cleared his throat.
“We’re gonna go for a quick walk, Sonya and I. We’ve been cooped up in a train and taxi all day, could use the chance to stretch our legs.”
“OK,” Caitlin said with a soft smile. “Don’t wait too long, though. We didn’t bake these cookies for ourselves.”
Sarah wished us well as we headed out the door.
Before we got down to business, though, I had some more messages to send after our conversation in the kitchen. I used the chance to smack DJ in the chest.
“Damn! You already hit me once for the girlfriend comment!”
“We’ll deal with this later, but don’t think that means you’re off the hook. Right now, our biggest concern is finding Brady and the Brits. If I had to guess, they’re probably at the church.”
I paused half a beat, waiting for the inevitable smartass remark to come, but DJ had shifted gears remarkably fast and listened like a soldier receiving a mission briefing.
“Tyrus mentioned something to me about the churches being the easiest place to switch between realms.”
“OK. I think there’s one not too far from us on this side of town, Taborkirche. Based on what they said about the cabbie taking a wrong turn, safe to assume that they’re heading there. Let’s—”
But we suddenly had to get out of the road when two headlights sped at us like, well, speed demons. The car honked at us as I cursed, keeping my hands near my hips. It then suddenly stopped in front of us. I geared up for a fight when two of the doors opened… and then I was ready to punch someone for an entirely different reason when I heard familiar laughter.
“We made it!” Nicholas shouted as Richard gave some cheers. “For the taxi lads!”
The front door opened and Brady stepped out, a sheepish look on his face. He knew he was guilty of freaking us out, and unlike the Brits, he did not try and laugh about the situation. He just tucked his hands into his jeans and shrugged when he saw me.
“Sorry,” he said as the Brits gathered bags from the trunk. “We genuinely did get lost. Nothing shady.”
“Thank God, cuz I would’ve had to take the parental role from you,” I said, patting him hard enough on the shoulder to draw an “ow” out of him. “As it is, head inside and get ready. There are cookies waiting for you. And, after, it sounds like we’re going to go clubbing.”
“What?”
“Don’t complain. You get to put your tongue down some random German girl’s throat. Maybe you’ll run into Nadia again.”
But just before I went into the house, I held DJ back to give him a lecture the boy desperately needed.
“I don’t actually care what you did in the past,” I said. “I don’t care how often you’ve had to use stories to get what you want. I just want you to be truthful with me.”
“With you, I have been. The girls, well, not so much,” he said, his voice suddenly as if he’d just gotten a massage. “But you’ll notice how easily conversation went? No awkward pauses? No giving weird titles?”
“You’re lucky you tell fictional stories and I use fictional covers,” I snarled, bringing a short laugh from DJ which I could only roll my eyes at—playfully, but somewhat seriously too. “Anyways, the less you say, the better.”
“Are you afraid it might actually get to that point?” DJ said, his words a dare.
“That is not at all what I said,” I replied, but his humor was starting to reach me. Some.
Conversation flowed easily inside the house, laughter filled the air, and cookies were eaten. I could immediately see Nicholas taking a liking to Sarah, and I thought about interrupting and informing Nicholas that she wasn’t interested in men, but after the anxiety I’d felt over their little adventure, I held back. I wanted to see how far Nicholas would get strung along before realizing it would be just him and his hand tonight. Awful? Perhaps. But so was hearing that they’d taken a wrong turn and then losing contact.
Besides, after the way Nicholas seemed to (ineffectively) hit on me at Durty Nelly’s, I just wanted to see this interaction play out.
“So, we’re all for clubbing, right?” Caitlin said.
Though all of us agreed, we half-murmured our enthusiasm. Even when Nicholas said, “For the clubbing lads!” it felt forced and half-hearted.
“Trust me, you’ve never seen a club scene like in Berlin,” Caitlin said, the enthusiasm in her voice undeniable. “And we’re Australian, so we know how to party.”
“Strong words,” DJ said.
“Trust me, you and your girl will agree.”
Sure enough, that got a cockeyed look from Brady. The Brits, at least, were either too tired or smart enough to not say anything. Honestly, I just delighted in it. DJ had initiated the lie, and if I was the one caught, I could just say he pressured me into it.
“We’re game,” I said with a bit more enthusiasm, effectively making the choice for the group. “But we’ve had a longer than expected time in Amsterdam. Can we agree to leave no later than 1 a.m.?”
“1 a.m.?” Sarah said.
The incredulousness in her voice was obvious. Oh, right. Australians party harder than American frat stars.
“2 a.m.,” I conceded.
I could feel the glares from the other boys. I didn’t like it either.
But I had my reasons. Or, I should say, a reason I didn’t quite want to admit even to myself.
An hour later, the women were all dressed in tight dresses that leaned closer to slutty than sensual and the men had thrown on their button-down shirts and suits. I thought I’d never looked finer in my life—I wore a one-shoulder red dress with black heels that raised my height from about 5’8 to closer to 6’0. But unlike my last night out, this time, I packed Ebony and Ivory into my clutch. It was an extremely tight fit, and I had to leave everything else I normally would have included in my purse—and, furthermore, since it was not exactly a tiny c
lutch, I’d look slightly awkward in the club. If anyone asked, though, I… well, I didn’t really have a good answer. I’d just force DJ to make something up.
“Where are we going?” I said, trying to muster a normal conversation as my mind went over ugly scenarios during the night.
“Oh, Berghain Nightclub,” Sarah said. “We had thought of doing KitKat but thought that might be a bit extreme for first-time guests from the USA.”
“What does that mean,” I inquired, more curious than accusatory. I wasn’t puritanical by any means, but I’d long since learned that American liberal was, at best, moderate by European standards and probably closer to conservative.
“It’s a sex club,” Caitlin said.
Uh. Yeah. With my brother and someone pretending to be my boyfriend.
“More pressing is the fact that to get in, you typically have to be dressed for the place,” Sarah said. “And I don’t know that I want to see Jack in skin-tight latex.”
We all got a riotous laugh out of that, even me.
But when I let my mind drift, and I imagined DJ in such clothes, my mind wandered into some places that even demons might find shocking. Hey, like I said, I could let my mind and emotions run amok and still control my actions.
Though, well, it was getting a bit harder. Especially now that DJ had already called me his girlfriend, whether in jest or not.
Unlike last time, we made sure to get an Uber—an Uber XL at that—in order to avoid having to split the group up. I passed it off to Sarah and Caitlin as not wanting to get delayed, but a brief moment of eye contact with everyone else in the group confirmed the obvious, that we were doing this for the safety of our lives, not our time.
The Uber XL, an Audi Q5, arrived and we all piled in the back, having to sit on each other’s lap in some cases. DJ pulled me onto his lap before I could argue, while Brady got stuck in the bitch seat in the middle. Much to our laughter and needed distraction, though, Richard had to sit on Nicholas’ lap, while Sarah and Caitlin sat in the front.
“Bloody hell, the last time I sat in your lap was when we were babies.”
“And you’re still acting like one, lad,” Nicholas replied.
“Don’t forget, little brother, I can always make you get in the trunk.”
“I don’t think our Uber driver would want that. Right, Sebastian?”
The driver just laughed and didn’t reply. DJ squeezed the side of my stomach, and I leaned my elbows into his chest as hard as I could. I may have gotten stuck in this position, but I wasn’t going to give him free reign to do whatever he wanted with my body.
Though… part of that did sound…
“So tell me about this place, Bergan?” Nicholas asked in his usual Manchester drawl, trying to ignore the weight of his brother on him.
“Berghain,” Sarah said, turning around with an amused expression on her face, as if since she could pronounce it, so could we. “It’s called ‘The Church of Techno’ and with good reason—once you go inside, your mind might be in an entirely different world.”
I really, really, really wanted to believe that Sarah was just speaking metaphorically. I honestly wanted to assume that her words were just that of hype and not foreboding. There was nothing about her that told me she might be a demon or a shifter. But her choice of words, especially after my conversations with Carsis and DJ, set off so many alarms in my head that I constantly checked to ensure I’d brought Ebony and Ivory with me. I also looked closely at Sarah’s neck and her eyes. I didn’t see any scars or signs otherwise, but still…
“It’s one of the hardest clubs to get into, because they want you to act formal in the line and without phones, but Caitlin knows one of the guys who runs the place and can get us in.”
“I’m texting him now,” she said.
“So I would just play it low key, don’t be whooo girls, don’t be aggressive guys—at least before we get in—and we should be fine.”
That was more than doable. We were all sober. We dressed the part and knew how to remain emotionless—it was our job to do so.
When the Uber driver dropped us off, I wasn’t quite sure what I looked at. It looked like a large barrack building from the Soviet Union, and not a “church of techno.” But if the music audible from our position was any indication, the place would at least live up to its reputation as an immersive experience.
Caitlin mentioned for us to wait in line as she went ahead. I stood next to DJ, who slung his arm around my waist and pulled me in close.
“Save room for Jesus, smart guy,” I said, making sure to keep my voice quiet.
“Sarah and Caitlin don’t think we need Jesus,” DJ retorted.
“Are we really going to keep this up the whole time? May I remind you that my brother, whom you finally made peace with, is seeing all of this?”
“Yes, and I know,” DJ said, adding no explanation to his answers.
I just groaned, but I had to admit, his hand on my side felt pretty good. It sent warm tingles through my body.
“Guys!”
We all turned to see Caitlin, waving us over to the side building. We quickly got out of the line and moved ahead, much to some groans and some smartass remarks from other people, and followed Caitlin around the corner.
“Here, he’s got us in.”
We all froze in shock when we saw the man at the side of the door, sporting a bald head, a hoop earring, and a thick beard.
“Hello, friends from Room 115,” Carsis said, his voice now in a German accent.
Chapter 4
“You?” I said, so shocked I couldn’t even add force to my words. Carsis was a hostel owner, not… “And what happened to your voice?”
“Don’t I look like the kind of guy who knows how to party?” he said with a casual smile. I mean, he was definitely a bit rougher around the edges than I would’ve imagined an angel to be, but “the kind of guy who knows how to party” sounded like someone who would wear a backward hat, chug beer, and say “bro” to everyone. “And besides, I have to blend in. No worse way to expose yourself than sounding like an outsider.”
But that was only the start of my questions. How did Carsis know the back entrance? How did Caitlin know him?
“Caitlin—”
“I don’t know—”
“It’s OK, guys, trust me,” Carsis said, which I did, or at least enough to follow him from here. But seriously, what the hell? “I know the owner, and when this lady texted him, he texted me to come and let you guys in. He’s not here tonight.”
I became tongue-tied, a rarity. Carsis just shrugged and opened his body toward a side door where a bouncer stood. He nodded to the bouncer, a beefy white man in a black hat with a black goatee, and the bouncer barely moved his head.
“Go have some fun. Trust me, it will be fine.”
The girls walked ahead with the confidence of visitors who had gone to this club multiple times. The Brits, curious about what lay inside, walked ahead. I started to walk when Carsis stopped me. DJ and Brady looked at me with concern, but I motioned for them to go. They walked away, but I saw them stopping at the entrance of the club.
“Is this natural, your voice?”
“Oh, absolutely,” he said, and he switched perfectly to an American accent for me. “Or I can sound Australian. Or French. Or German. It’s the advantage of being a spiritual being. I learn what people sound like and can mimic them.”
It worked for me, but it would still take some getting used to.
“First, Sonya, business. On my way here, I overheard things. Mundus is not happy with how easily you handled Nuforsa. He’s going to become more aggressive in trying to capture you.”
“I know, Tyrus told—”
“Fucking shit,” Carsis spat. It still caught me off guard to hear an angel swearing like this. “What did he tell you and where?”
I explained all that had happened on the train, except for the dream. It didn’t seem relevant to the discussion at hand, especially since nothing that
had happened in reality mirrored what happened in the dream.
“And did you take his offer?”
“Hell no, really, Carsis?”
“You can never be too sure in a time like this,” he said. His eyes nervously glanced around, and I followed. I didn’t see anything unusual, but that did little to assuage me. “Listen, we need to do some more training tomorrow before you do anything else. Mundus has made plans to try and psychologically break you.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure Nuforsa tried that, ask her soul how that worked.”
But Carsis didn’t smile or acknowledge my statement. Instead, he held firm, and my smile faded. I almost forgot that less than twenty feet from me was a multi-story nightclub thundering with techno music and hundreds, if not thousands, of horny bodies pressed together.
“Sonya, I’m serious. Nuforsa may have tried to break you, but she had no effect on you. She made the mistake of breaking you but also pissing you off at the same time. Mundus thinks he’s found a weak point, one that will not only break you psychologically but put you in a state of depression, making you unwilling to fight. Something from your past. Something that ‘will leave her surrendering as an apology.’”
I had something of an idea of what Carsis was referring to. But that incident was not something to think about tonight.
But I certainly needed more training if I was ever to go to hell and undo the shifter curse.
“What time?” I said.
“9 a.m.”
“And where—”
A batch of drunken girls headed our way, demanding they get special VIP side entrance treatment. Carsis suddenly turned very angry and bellowed, ordering them in an especially thick and sharp German accent to go back to the line, and that if they wanted to get in like I did, they’d have to start working at the club. It was a shocking display of rage, but I can’t say it wasn’t effective.
“With that out of the way, you asked where?” Carsis said, his German accent softer now. “I’ll find you. Skills of a Power angel. You won’t be too far from here, I take it?”
“No sir,” I said, feeling a bit on edge—I didn’t want to be that easy to track—but hey, skills of being a Power angel, I suppose.
Magic Revenge: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Spirit War Chronicles Book 2) Page 4