by Gaja J. Kos
“Hello, Simon,” I purred and cocked my head to the side. “Had a rough night?”
“Yeah, I—”
“That was a rhetorical question.” I motioned to his clearly disgruntled state.
Simon was built like a bodybuilder, but in his boxer shorts and a loose gray tee, he looked as if someone had sucked him dry. Probably had, too.
He rolled his opal eyes. “You’re always such a charm, Crina. Do come in.”
With a flash of teeth, I strode past him down the narrow corridor that opened into a spacious kitchen with bay windows and a balcony, giving the place an even airier feel. A standard living room extended beyond the wide square archway to the right, fitted with a wide-screen TV and a state-of-the-art surround system I’d had the pleasure to experience myself once or twice.
As Simon’s dragging footsteps echoed behind me, my gaze caught on his impressive movie collection visible even from out here. The pristine plastic, sometimes even metal, cases snaked along the entire wall, broken up only by the collector’s items positioned strategically on the shelves every now and then.
Compared to some of the other contacts I’d made in my line of work, Simon’s life seemed…ordinary. Of course, for a computer genius like him, the cover worked just fine as long as nobody spotted him during one of his Friday outings.
I spun around just as he joined me in the kitchen and suppressed a smile.
No supe club, however hardcore, was a stranger to the warlock.
Simon yawned and sprawled himself across one of the chairs while I remained standing, strategically positioning myself in front of the bay windows so that a golden halo surrounded me like I was some fucking angel.
“You know,” he drawled, massaging his temples, “it’s kind of painful to look at you. So bright.”
I swallowed down a snicker, then altered my voice. “My presence here is an omen, young one. You cannot shy away from your responsibilities, no matter how good the alcohol and blow job.”
A fistful of salty mini pretzels flew at my head.
I incinerated them with a quick flash of demon fire, then threw myself down on the chair opposite his. “For that kind of welcome, you better cut your rates in half this time.”
“Bitch, I’m already giving you a discount,” he snarled, but broke out in a laugh not a breath later. “How about you tell me what’s bothering you, and I can see if I can do this one in exchange for you introducing me to Reiner.”
“Reiner is currently on a Crina time-out. We got assigned to the same case. As in, he’s the fucking fail-safe.” I scowled.
“Ouch.” Simon scratched the blond stubble covering his chin and offered me a sincerely sympathetic look. “I’m assuming this is the same case that brought you to my humble abode?”
With a grunt, I scooted out of the chair and moved over to the wide counter worthy of any modern cuisine lover to make some coffee. I’d obviously kicked Simon out of bed despite it being his official workday, but since he decided not to give me too much shit over it, the least I could do was make the warlock a cup.
To set his mind straight, if nothing else.
I filled the water heater up to a third and flicked the switch. “I need to get past some infrared sensors in a safe. You think you could help with that?”
“Familiar model?”
“Nope.”
All he had on hand was that instant stuff, so I scooped up two spoonfuls, then drowned them in hot water. “The safe is a remodeled room in one of the high-end high-rises opposite the station.”
Simon snagged the mug from my hand. He whisked by and hurried down the corridor, obviously freshly invigorated, before disappearing into his computer room. Lair, as he liked to call it.
“Tell me the exact address,” he shouted. “And apartment number.”
My eyes rolled of their own volition. I padded to the open door, amazed as always by how Simon managed to transform the room into something that looked like it belonged to a federal organization, not a randy warlock who worked his magic fingers on people and keyboards with equal success.
I gave him the address, as well as the floor and Viktor’s name. A crescendo of clicks ensued, followed by a click of his tongue.
“Yeah… This might take a day or two, Crin.”
I crossed my arms and leaned against the frame. “Don’t tell me someone’s got you beat?”
“Pff, never.” He glanced over his shoulder with an amused smile curling up the corners of his lips, though his hands kept typing away. “But if I want to slip into the system without leaving any trace at all behind, I’m going to need some time.”
I shrugged, easing from my perch. It wasn’t like I could do much to make him work faster. Simon was many things, but lazy when on a job was not one of them. He always gave himself fully to the task—which was also the reason for his Friday parties. The one time of the week when he broke free of all the restraints. As long as it made him this effective, I wasn’t complaining. Even if his lifestyle wasn’t one I’d choose for myself.
I rapped my nails against the doorframe. “Call me the instant you have anything?”
“Will do,” Simon fired back, but his gaze was back on the screen.
After a shake of my head, that he was too engrossed to spot, I let myself out. The lock snicked shut behind me, and I made my way down the cool stairwell and out into the spring day. No old lady to glare at me this time.
Traffic buzzed in the distance, a faint, muted sound that was overpowered by the excited chirping of birds. I walked past the parked cars and towards the path that curved across a small patch of grass, thinking through my options.
Stalking Viktor was one, although, from my knowledge of how he worked, the man’s whereabouts during the day tended to reveal little. If anything, he would conduct his business once evening crept across the city, though I was betting the amulet was locked away in that safe of his, patiently waiting to be passed on to the highest bidder once things cooled down a little. Only a rookie would try to auction off a hot item. And few serious buyers would attempt to purchase one.
In light of that, I could either enter the Shadow World and snoop around to see what my father wanted with those demons from Raya’s court, or do some recon on Sacred Skies.
The second option sucked just a little less than the first.
I still wasn’t accepting Breccan’s offer, but looking into the company would be like exercising to stay in shape. Obviously, if people thought I needed babysitting, I was sending off the wrong vibe.
I crossed a one-way street, keeping away from the main road to bask in the solitude, when magic crawled down my skin like a thousand sinister spiders. What—
Pain ripped through me, then ratcheted up to shrill agony.
My body broke into atoms before I could even say “Fuck.”
Chapter 6
A bastard tried to carve out my guts once. If someone gave me the choice of facing evisceration or having a shift forced on me, I’d have to go with the former.
My stomach rolled uneasily as I landed on all fours, my face an inch from the cool marble ground. With trembling muscles, I pulled myself up, but didn’t open my eyes. Not yet.
Even without a visual, I knew well enough where I was. And I had no desire to vomit in front of the Royal Pain in the Ass.
Though that just might still happen.
Wincing, I focused on my breaths to soothe the nausea while I checked if all my atoms were where they were supposed to be. On the odd occasion, the kind of shit Yelena had just pulled caused demons to come through damaged.
A summons was supposed to be a symbiosis. Someone called. You answered. Ripping a demon from their life and stealing away their choice was plain rude even without the potentially lethal factor.
Of course, making a case for common courtesy—or common sense—in Yelena’s court would be a waste of my fucking time.
I rose slowly, all the while keeping my gaze on the still-blurry figure reclining on her shadow-coated throne as if
I’d already fully recovered. No point in giving her more satisfaction than she had already taken by degrading me in such a despicable way.
I spread my arms, palms out. “Well, I’m here.”
Several demons in particle form occupying the chamber at my back stirred at my tone. I suppressed a smile.
“Crina, my dear.” Yelena’s perfect face sharpened as she leaned forward, tapping her long, black-painted nails against the throne. “You would do well to mind your manners. After all, I’m doing you a favor.”
“Favor?”
The sudden curl of her lips conveyed I had just stepped in a massive pile of shit.
Great.
I crossed my arms and feigned indifference—the best possible course of action under the circumstances. My powers, however, weren’t quite so willing to settle. Everything about Yelena’s demeanor was threatening, if cordial on the outside. Unfortunately, I’d worked for her long enough to know that fighting my way out—or even fleeing—would be futile.
Like most lords, when Yelena set her sights on something, there was no stopping her.
Only as I stood there like a lowly subject with an up-close-and-personal view of her predatory smugness, I seriously feared the day that last thread on Yelena’s leash snapped.
“So, what’s the favor?” I pressed just to rid myself of that unpleasant thought.
“Giving you a chance to find your father before I place a bounty on his head.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“Vuyasin broke the temporary confinement I imposed on him upon his release. Confinement. In words, not wards.” Yelena shrugged, her chestnut curls gleaming under the opulent light as brilliantly as the gold accents adorning the chamber. “My mistake for believing the demon was wise enough to not cross me a second time.”
The assholes behind me shifted again, though for once, a kernel of kinship rose. Yelena’s anger spread through the room like poisonous gas, and none of us had masks to survive it.
I pursed my lips together, then asked, “What perimeter did the confinement encompass?”
Air flooded my lungs as the oppressive weight receded. At my back, the demons’ relief was palpable.
“His quadrant along with his lair,” Yelena replied with an edge of stiffness her still gracefully poised body echoed.
Hindsight was a bitch.
Our darling queen probably realized allowing Vuyasin access to his lair was like leaving a cage not only unlocked, but the gate wide open. Apparently I wasn’t the only one prone to making rookie fucking mistakes lately. The umbilical cord tethered to the lair would get my father anywhere he wanted with none being the wiser. Until it was too late.
Which made my job that much harder.
I tugged on the sleeves of my jacket and gave Yelena a curt nod as if this were nothing more than yet another in the long line of jobs she’d sent me on.
“I’ll head there now,” I said, and, unable to resist a dash of my own rudeness, fractured into particles, effectively stealing the final word from the queen.
I breezed past her loyal demons without looking back to gauge the true depths of the silence that ensued, then squeezed my floating form through the warded ornamental slits near the top of the door. Only once I was alone on the shadowed path, with nothing but charcoal silhouettes of the Shadow World surrounding me, did I slow down.
There was no point in hiding my presence in my native realm from Yelena. No point in slipping in and out before my proximity caught her attention as liege, even when she couldn’t pinpoint my exact location so long as I remained in particle form. Just having her think about me was bad enough on a normal day.
Only this wasn’t a normal day.
It would be heresy not to take advantage of the situation, regardless of how it came to be—or the strings attached to it.
If I was already on the job, I might as well make the most of it.
Little had changed since I last explored these parts of the court. Comforting and annoying at the same time, only now, I focused on the former rather than the latter. On that touch of nostalgia sneaking into my heart as I recalled stealing moments for myself between all those missions Yelena had shoved my way ever since she marked me as her creature.
My childhood and teen years had been far from conventional, even for someone of demonic blood, but if I looked hard enough, I was able to find a few good bits. I breezed past the shadowed alcove that opened into a mini-park, neglected by most and the perfect hookup location I’d taken advantage of more times than I could count.
The smile that tugged on my incorporeal lips tamed the unspooling threads of anger, and when I arrived at my father’s place just a stone’s throw away from his favorite gambling den, my head was clear enough to conduct a proper investigation. I changed shape, feet hitting the half solid, half shadow step leading up to the threshold. My fingers paused on the handle.
It had been a long time since I was inside.
As soon as Yelena had taken me on as her head assassin when I turned thirteen, I got my own quarters. There had been no reason for me to linger at Vuyasin’s.
Though I still had no idea why, my lair had always been in a separate part of the Shadow World. Probably something to do with the circumstances surrounding my birth.
While a lair is an actual place—a place someone has to construct for a baby demon—it becomes ours when we are born. For the first year, or however long we’re dependent on its energy, our parents are allowed inside to tend to us. After that, the lair shuts them out. Unless we grant them entry, nobody can enter our sacred space.
Of course, I had no clue how that worked in cases like mine.
The bronze handle warmed under my skin.
Born to a mother who wasn’t a demon and a father who had no idea I existed until she dumped me on his doorstep. No one to design my sacred space. And yet I had one. I figured things somehow…took care of themselves.
Regardless of what demons liked to believe, I’d always sensed a sort of…sentience…in the shadows making up our world. In all honesty, it wouldn’t have surprised me if our realm had allocated me the first unoccupied space it found when I came screaming and kicking into existence.
My head started to throb as whispers of questions attempted to wiggle to the surface.
This was an old topic for me, and I never reached any solid conclusions. I wasn’t about to make a breakthrough now.
And Yelena…
Well, she probably wouldn’t appreciate a delay because of some odd existential crisis.
I exhaled and entered Vuyasin’s chambers.
A wall of stale air slammed into my face, stuffy with alcohol and littered with remnants of magic strong enough to serve as a basis for conviction—not that Vuyasin needed another. My boots kicked away empty bottles, some fresh, some sending little puffs of dust in the air when they rolled across the age-worn floor. That gave me an idea.
I padded over to the faded green liquor cabinet and yanked it open. The shelves were half stocked, but it wasn’t the vast array of questionable alcohol that interested me. My gaze slid to the side. Three high-quality bottles—wine, scotch, and vodka, respectively—occupied the left corner.
Vuyasin would never leave his prized drinks here if he harbored no intentions of returning.
My father had a shitload of crappy qualities, but no one would dare question his loyalty to liquor. Either he planned to pop back in soon…
Or his disappearance wasn’t voluntary.
Chapter 7
A grunt cut through the silence.
I stilled, bringing my magic close to the surface of my skin. When nothing else stirred, I silently made my way to the adjacent room. The reek of alcohol was even worse here, and for a moment, I thought Yelena had messed up. That this entire time, my father had simply been passed out on his crappy couch. But she wouldn’t have made that mistake.
Then again, the question remained how anybody was in here when Vuyasin’s entire quarters were a place of interest?
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It showed I’d put far too much faith in Yelena, marching in here like I did. The mistake could have cost me.
Without making a sound, I crept around scattered ledgers and a few more bottles until the figure who was just coming out of what must have been a groggy sleep came into view.
I snorted, then let my demon fire illuminate the room to the point of blinding pain without burning any of the worthless objects. In the blue hue, the place—and the man—seemed even more pitiful.
“Fucking stop that, will you?” the hungover peach grumbled.
“Why are you here, Ephemy?” I asked, definitely not stopping. “Do you know where Vuyasin scurried off to?”
“The bastard owes me money from the last game.” The demon lifted himself to a sitting position, all the while shielding his eyes from the glare with a heavily scarred hand. “Came to collect. He wasn’t here. The couch looked comfy.”
Sadly, that wasn’t a lie.
I amped up the brightness just for the fun of it before dispelling the fire entirely. No point on wasting too much energy on Ephemy. He was scum, but he was harmless.
As gloom swept across the space again and Ephemy eased up, I asked, “When was the last time you saw him?”
“Week ago.” He shrugged, then yawned without bothering to put his hand up. The sour breath nearly knocked me on my ass. “He was excited about something, I could tell. Made him a careless player. Not that he seemed to particularly mind. Should have known the bastard didn’t plan to pay up.”
While I didn’t think that was the case, exactly, I didn’t correct him. If Ephemy sensed I wanted info from him, he’d expect me to cough up a pretty sum.
So I played along.
“If Vuyasin believed he stumbled onto a big deal, he more than likely thought he’d be beyond repaying petty debts,” I drawled, emphasizing the word petty.
It worked like a charm.
“Fuck petty. He owes me two amulets. Two.” He scoffed, then caught himself on the backrest with white-knuckled fingers as his torso careened to the side.
