by Tamar Sloan
Gatesof Demons
Keepers of the Grail 1
Tamar Sloan
Jess Connors Publishing
Copyright © 2021 by Tamar Sloan
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover by Laercio Messias
https://laerciomessias.com.br
Contents
1. Reign
2. Arielle
3. Reign
4. Arielle
5. Reign
6. Arielle
7. Reign
8. Arielle
9. Reign
10. Arielle
11. Reign
12. Arielle
13. Reign
14. Arielle
15. Reign
16. Arielle
17. Reign
18. Arielle
19. Reign
20. Arielle
21. Reign
22. Arielle
23. Reign
24. Arielle
25. Reign
26. Arielle
27. Reign
28. Arielle
29. Reign
30. Arielle
31. Reign
32. Arielle
33. Reign
34. Arielle
35. Reign
36. Arielle
37. Reign
38. Arielle
39. Reign
40. Arielle
41. Reign
42. Arielle
Gates of Chaos
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Also by Tamar Sloan
About the Author
1
Reign
There’s a certain freedom that comes with driving a car that’s not your own.
Reign lets the heady abandon sweep through his veins, no matter how temporary it is. Darnell spills his cherry soda on the leather seats? The three of them laugh it off. Rico sticks his ass out the window at a parking inspector eating a burrito? They laugh even harder because the number plates aren’t theirs and they’ll never be traced. Reign leaves a layer of adrenaline-soaked rubber on the road each time he takes off at a set of lights... His two partners in crime whoop and holler, spilling even more cherry soda.
Not their tires.
Not their car.
Not their problem.
Except, as the Audi idles outside some backwater tech store, Reign’s adrenaline high quickly dissolves. Darnell and Rico are inside, leaving him alone, hyper-conscious of every set of eyes that wanders past. If someone glances for more than a millisecond, he glares at them, projecting all the ugliness he has inside until they turn away.
Reign thrums his fingers on the steering wheel as he guns the gas, frustrated that the engine is practically silent. The tension filling his body needs a voice. It wants a fully loaded V8 monster to roar his frustration.
Darnell and Rico are taking too long.
Reign’s restless hand shifts to the gear stick, the need to get the hell out of here pulsing through his veins. He doesn’t like sitting still. Staying in one place too long. Each time he does, thoughts and memories crowd in, demanding an audience.
Plus, the longer he sits here, the more chances there are of getting caught.
Slipping the stick into first, Reign feels the gears grip. Darnell and Rico would do the same thing if they were sitting here, stuck with being the getaway driver in a stolen vehicle, without any sign of his fellow law breakers. Reign doubts they’d give this as much thought as he is.
Except, running would make him even more of a slime-ball than he already is. Jamming the car back into neutral, Reign returns his hands to the steering wheel, clenching it hard. Where else was his life going to end up, anyway? His trajectory was mapped out for him when his parents died and even his first set of foster parents couldn’t handle him longer than a year.
The door to the tech store crashes open, and Darnell and Rico fly out. Hoodies flapping wildly, they streak for the Audi. Behind them is a short, stocky man, huffing and red-faced as he chases them.
Jumping in and slamming the door, Darnell punches the dash as Rico throws himself into the back seat. “Go, go, go!”
Tires squealing, Reign swings the Audi away from the curb, his pulse feeling like it’s spiking along with the revs. He glances in the rear-view mirror and sees the store owner standing in a haze of blue-white smoke, waving a furious fist.
Accelerating away, Reign takes the next corner, glad the street ahead seems mostly clear. Darnell is beside him, staring out the back window while Rico holds up two laptops.
“They’re not top of the range, but I got two!” He leans forward, nudging Darnell. “What about you?”
Darnell slips his own haul out from under his oversized sweater. “Just one. That guy was watching us too closely.”
Reign focuses on the road as Rico lights a celebratory cigarette in the back seat. Is he really putting everything on the line for three freaking computers? Accelerating, he reminds himself they have to pay for food somehow. And this way, they won’t have to do another haul for at least a week.
The end of the street brings them to a set of lights. Reign grinds his teeth when he sees they’re red. They need to put as much distance between themselves and the store as possible, then dump the Audi.
The lights turn green, and Reign takes a right. He’ll use the back roads to make their way to the hangout. Darnell flops back in the passenger seat, letting out a relieved breath. Rico offers him a drag of the cigarette, and Darnell takes a deep draw. He holds it up for Reign, but he shakes his head.
He’s never seen the point of drawing toxic smoke into his lungs if it’s not going to help him forget the crap-cluster that is his life.
Rico stretches his arms out like some gangster in a limo. “Now, that’s what I call a success.”
“We need to get back first,” Darnell mutters, glancing over his shoulder. He pauses, then glances again. “Shit. It’s the pigs.”
As if on cue, blue and red lights flash in Reign’s rear view mirror. His pulse spikes as he jams his foot on the gas. “Hold on.”
The Audi surges forward, the engine far more than a gentle purr for the first time. Reign jerks the wheel as he swerves around a truck, quickly slipping back into his lane. Glancing in the mirror, he sees the police car do the same, closing the distance between them.
Crap.
“Gun it, will ya?” shouts Rico. “We need to lose these douches. That asshole store owner must’ve called them.”
Pressing his foot down harder, Reign ignores the climbing needle on the odometer. He already knows he’s going fast. Too fast. They zoom forward, slipping between traffic and through another set of lights. Reign allows himself a brief second to thank fate that they were green.
But the cop car steadily gains, the wailing siren starting to grate on his nerves. Darting around a blue sedan, he sees a straight stretch of road in the largely industrial area they’re in. A handful of people are walking along the pavement, heads shooting up when the speeding car flashes past them. One man gives them the bird, waving his one-fingered fist in fury, but Reign ignores it. As long as others stay out of his way, they can get as angry as they want.
Rico leans forward between the front seats. “We need to get into the ‘burbs, dude.” He points left. “
Turn up here.”
“Not happening,” Reign states flatly. The suburbs mean more people. Moms out for a jog. Kids on bikes. Dogs off lead thanks to their clueless owners.
Adding a little more pressure to the gas pedal, he tries to think through the adrenaline. If they get caught, they’re all on their way to big boy prison now that they’re almost eighteen. Reign’s clocked up a few too many misdemeanors, while Darnell and Rico only just got out of juvie.
Which means losing the cop on their tail…without anyone getting hurt.
“I’ll get us to the River District,” he says through gritted teeth. “Then we’ll dump the car and run.”
“That’s where the hangout is!” Rico says incredulously.
“Which means we know the area better than they do.”
Darnell shakes his head. “Darnell doesn’t like this.”
He mustn’t, because Darnell only refers to himself in third person when he’s stressed. Hunkering down in the leather seat, Reign sets his gaze on the road. “We’re almost there.”
In fact, one set of lights and they’ll be in familiar territory. The route they’ll take is already mapping out in Reign’s mind. The cops won’t stand a chance among the narrow twists and turns of the city’s poorest area.
His chest gripped by the cold hand of fear, he accelerates again, the cop car falling a few more feet behind. Their surroundings zip past, people and faces no longer distinguishable. The traffic lights appear ahead, a glorious green waiting for them to pass through. Impossibly, Reign speeds up again. The needle of the odometer trembles in the red, as if even it knows this is too much. A quick glance shows Darnell’s charcoal skin has taken on an ashen tinge. Rico is whooping like he’s having the time of his life.
Suddenly, the green orb of go disappears, an amber circle of light appearing beneath it. Reign curses under his breath. The sirens still piercing his ears, he does some quick calculations. Going any faster is guaranteed suicide.
The cop isn’t backing off.
And they’re not going to make it before it turns red.
Reign eases his foot on the gas as his hands tighten around the steering wheel. He needs a plan B.
“What are you doing?” Darnell asks in a high-pitched panic. “You’re slowing down! Darnell doesn’t want to slow down!”
“It’s a red light!” Reign shouts back.
Rico thumps the back of the driver’s seat. “So what? Run it!”
But Reign has no intention of doing that. He learned years ago that Lady Luck turned her back on him. It’s inevitable that someone will be crossing. That the Audi will plough straight into them.
And he doesn’t need another life on his conscience.
The police car pulls out into the other lane and speeds up.
“He’s going to be next to us!” Darnell screeches.
Which is exactly where the cop is. The sirens wail over Reign’s eardrums as the flashing red and blue feel like strobe lights puncturing his eyeballs. The police car inches forward, and Reign’s foot twitches. If he jammed on the gas, this wouldn’t be happening.
A frantic glance at the lights show they’re now red. He grips the steering wheel, everything feeling totally out of control. And for three freaking computers…
The police car appears alongside them. “Pull over!” comes a male voice.
“Go suck yourself!” shouts Rico.
Reign affords himself one glance. His gaze darts left, seeing it’s a single cop driving the vehicle. That look is all it takes for his blood to freeze.
Two, glowing red pricks of light gaze at him from sunken, black sockets. The thing smiles, its gray-colored skin stretching around rows of pointed teeth. It flexes its hands on the steering wheel, yellowed claws glinting dully in the light.
Terrified, Reign wants to scream, but the sound is trapped in his constricted throat. The Hell-face in the police car is monstrous, impossible…and he can’t tear his gaze away from the nauseating sight.
“Turn right!” shouts Darnell. “Now!”
His fear-saturated brain responding instinctively, Reign yanks down the steering wheel, jamming his foot on the brake. He sees the side street that Darnell’s talking about, and the Audi’s rear end fishtails wildly as they take the corner wide, slamming into a dumpster. Hands scrambling to right the vehicle, Reign drops down a gear, then returns his foot on the gas.
Tires squeal as they leap forward once more. Behind them, the cop car zips straight past the turnoff.
“We lost them!” whoops Darnell.
But Reign’s eyes widen as he discovers where he just turned down.
Shops line each side of the road. People who were peacefully shopping a moment ago leap out of the way, faces painted with shock and fear.
Reign slams on the brakes, pulling back on the steering wheel as if that will make a difference. The tires screech as they lock, but the car continues its trajectory.
A few feet ahead, a girl steps off the pavement, trying to brush a strand of blonde hair from her face despite the shopping bags in each hand.
“Move!” Reign shouts, even though she wouldn’t be able to hear him.
Her head snaps at the sounds of the car, and all he can see are wide, terrified eyes in a pale, beautiful face. Her mouth pops open in a silent scream
Reign yanks down hard on the steering wheel and the Audi swerves, slamming into a trash can. The contents explode over the windshield and onto the street as the car jerks to a halt several feet away. He twists to look over his shoulder, bile hitting the back of his throat when he can’t see the girl.
No! He was so sure he missed her!
His frantic gaze finds her a second later, back on the pavement. She must’ve leaped back just as he swerved. Light-headed with relief, Reign flops back into the seat. She’s alive. He’s not responsible for another death.
Rico shoves him. “She’s fine! We need to get the hell out of here!”
Surprised to find his hands aren’t shaking, Reign does as he’s told. It’s only a matter of time before the cop car is back on their tail. Ignoring Rico’s demands to go faster, he makes his way down the busy street like any other person out on a sunny afternoon. A few turns and they’re at the River District.
They dump the car a few blocks away from the hangout, then jog the rest of the way.
They’re around the corner when Darnell doubles over, breathing hard. “Reign! We don’t all climb the city buildings like we’re possessed or something.”
“Shut up,” growls Reign, the reference to evil spirits far too fresh after what he saw. “Have you thought of eating less takeout?”
Sweat glistening on his ebony skin, Darnell rolls his eyes at him. “As opposed to all those home cooked meals waiting for me?” he spits sarcastically.
Reign falls into step beside him, mentally acknowledging that Darnell has a point. In their world, home cooked meals are as scarce as love and affection.
Stepping around a pile of trash, the three of them fall silent as they approach the abandoned pile of bricks they call the hangout. Decrepit and decayed, the only color splashed across its drab façade is graffiti, it’s no doubt on the list to be destroyed—which is just what they were looking for. A place where no one cares who’s in it, and where all evidence of their inhabitance will be gone when it’s demolished.
They climb up the porch steps, all avoiding the rotting middle one, and slip through the door hanging drunkenly on one hinge. Inside, there’s a kitchen to the left. With no electricity or running water, they couldn’t cook even if they knew how.
The room they jokingly call the games room is to the right. It would’ve once been a living room, probably with a couple of couches and a TV. Now, the carpet is the color and texture of dirt, with a few strewn milk crates for seats and a couple of saggy mattresses to crash on.
Rico flops onto the nearest one, spreading out the laptops. “We’re gonna celebrate hard when we cash these in.”
Darnell picks one up and holds it out l
ike a tray. “Would you like three or four buckets of chicken wing dings with that, sir?”
Rico rolls his eyes haughtily. “Just get me a wheelbarrow, will you?”
The two of them laugh as they outline what they’ll buy. Clothes. Food. Headphones.
All the things so many kids their age have, because there’s someone in their life to buy it for them.
Darnell passes the computer he’s holding to Reign. “Let’s see if there’s any games on them.”
But Reign doesn’t find their excitement infectious. Shaking his head, he makes his way to the stairs. He takes them two at a time even though the bannister was smashed long before they arrived—some fellow lowlife shoved another too hard, either in fun or in fury. A part of him has always dared fate to have him slip.
In the room he’s claimed as his own, he pauses, wiping his hand down his face. There’s less furniture here than downstairs—a musty couch that doubles as a bed and a scarred wooden table—with even less to do. Why isn’t he celebrating with the guys, riding the rush of adrenaline after losing the cop? The sort of rush he’s always seeking. Always needing to help him feel…alive.
Because he can’t shake the Hell-face that he saw in the cop car. The glowing eyes. The too-long, lethally pointed teeth. Those gruesome, yellow claws.
Long-buried guilt crawls through Reign’s mind, and he starts to panic. He needs to make the memories, the awful loathing, go away.
