Gunnar gives Grim a scowl, probably for asking the question in the first place, but the subject is dropped after that.
“Are we going out?” I point over my shoulder, indicating the door to the club.
“Yeah.” Gunnar shakes his head briefly and adds, “I’m going to check in with a few of my men. I’ll meet up with you guys in a little bit.” With his eyes boring into mine, he demands, “Stay out of trouble.”
I roll my eyes. “I never get in trouble.”
“We’ll keep her out of trouble,” Calix offers, as he poises his hand on the doorknob, ready to open it.
“You stay out of trouble,” I grumble, and make my way over to the door. The magical residue hits me like a physical wave crashing over me. My senses feel like exposed nerves as every sin in the place bombards me. The entire club feels as if it’s been tainted with the same dark magic I sensed from the bad witch.
“Wait.” I lift my hand and I feel Grim’s fingers curl over my shoulder as he drags me back. “The whole place is saturated,” I grit out past a wheezing breath. I feel like I’m smothering in the magical ick and gore permeating the air.
“What’s wrong?” Gunnar steps in front of me.
“You can’t feel that?” I cringe.
“I don’t know what you mean either.” Calix looks at Gunnar for confirmation, his brow is drawn low as he opens and closes his fists.
“A Charmed one was killed here, and not long ago.” Grim wraps both of his arms over my chest and curls around me.
“What?” Gunnar spins to look out at the heavy crowd in the club. People are dancing and laughing as if it’s just another night.
“If you can’t sense it, how do we know it hasn’t happened here before? They could have been killing right under your nose.” I let the disgust I feel drip from my words. It’s not Gunnar I’m appalled with, but the situation itself.
“I have no fucking clue, but I’m about to find out.” Gunnar smashes a glass box on the wall and pulls down a little red handle. His fist is coated in a thin layer of blood, but he doesn’t seem to notice. A bright pulse of light flashes from the ceiling in regular intervals. The music cuts off next.
It only takes a breath before people realize the fire alarm has been triggered, and panic hits with the exhale.
Shouts and screams fill the air as the sound amplifies to a level even louder than the music was blaring moments ago. Pandemonium ensues.
There are a few stragglers who look around in a daze, unsure of what’s happening. They’re probably too drunk or high to catch the urgency of what’s really going on. The others all flee for the exits: some caught up in the wave of people pushing toward the doors, others charging head-on with such determination that they don’t care whom they trample in the process.
“Holy hell,” I curse under my breath, as I take in the scene before me. A few of the patrons at the back of the mob look around for other possible exits, their eyes wild with fear, and then they land on us standing in the open door.
“Over here!” one guy shouts, and runs in our direction. Gunnar steps back, his arm out wide he pushes me and Grim, because he still hasn’t released me from the wall. He flattens himself against the hall right along with us as a hoard of people swarm the corridor.
Grim is breathing hard as he changes his position. His face comes into focus above me and he squashes me to the wall.
“What the hell?” I gasp, as my breath leaves my lungs.
“Be still,” Grim orders.
The flow of people only lasts a minute or two, but it feels like eons as we’re jostled and battered from every side. I can’t even see Calix. Gunnar still has his arm banded over Grim and me.
The moment the crush of bodies is gone, Grim places a gentle kiss on my temple and steps back. I draw a heavy breath in, placing my hands on my knees.
Seemingly unaffected, Grim steps over and grabs hold of Gunnar’s throat with him still pressed to the wall. Gunnar doesn’t put up an ounce of fight as his heels leave the ground. I’m watching, but I’m too worried about my next breath to do anything about it.
“You are not on a battlefield, Berserker, with no thought of your consequences.” Grim’s mouth is close to Gunnar’s ear as he speaks. “Put her in danger again with your thoughtlessness, and I will end you.” Grim releases Gunnar’s throat and steps back, giving him a little space, but he doesn’t retreat far.
I’m waiting for the shitshow to start, but Gunnar doesn’t even react to the threat. Instead, he gives Grim a nod of agreement and turns to face me. “I made a rash decision,” he explains. No apology, not that I needed or expected one. He just states the facts. “It won’t happen again.”
I stand up straight and let my back and head relax against the wall. I eye Calix; he’s a little ruffled, but seems to be okay, too. I nod also, not sure how to respond to Gunnar’s words.
After we gather ourselves, we walk into the empty club. I note a few members of the security team rousing partiers who were too stupid or drunk to leave with everyone else.
Vanessa is standing at the top of the VIP staircase, her hands on her narrow hips. The air around her is smudged with oily magic. “Somebody better have a good fucking explanation.” She eyes the club. The place is a mess: stools are turned over, their silver legs jutting into the air like spikes. Cups and glasses are littered among the rubble with napkins sprinkled like confetti everywhere.
Yet my eyes are drawn to the bar along the back wall. There’s a pentagram etched into the front, which is typically obscured by the countless number of bodies pressed up against it waiting for their drinks, mine included.
I take another look around with freshly searching eyes and see small runes and symbols dotted throughout the entire area. How could I have never noticed this? Some part of me had always been drawn to this bar in particular—could this be part of it? Did I sense the magic of this place without even realizing it?
Vanessa’s stance shifts when she sees me: her brow furrows and her hands slide off her hips. “Seems you’re coming around a lot more lately, Deanna. To what do I owe the honor?” Vanessa’s eyes slip in Gunnar’s direction after butchering my name. She gazes at him as if waiting for his explanation, as if he owes her something, or at least as if she thinks he does.
I take a step forward, not liking the way her eyes linger on him. “What can I say? This place draws me in like flies to a shithole. What the fuck have you been doing to stink this place up, Vanessa,” I sneer, spitting her name.
Her eyebrows lift as her lips tighten. “I think it’s the recent influx of desperate clientele that may be bringing the place down.”
Calix moves up to my side. “You think so?” I tap my chin and kick out my hip to the side. “I’m not so convinced. I think it has more to do with whatever fucked up rituals you’ve been performing here, if you ask me.”
Vanessa’s eyes dart to Gunnar again, then back to me. “I have no idea what you’re blathering about. And it’s obvious neither do you. Being born Charmed is wasted on someone like you,” she hisses defensively.
“Is that so? Is that why you crave our magic so badly, because you were born without an ounce of power?” I know I’m ruffling her feathers by the way she’s shooting daggers at me.
“I earned every lick of power I’ve ever gotten. Can you say the same?” Vanessa’s voice is low, fused with indignant rage.
Everyone left in the club is watching us. There are several witches inching closer to her—even a few of the security team—while the others stand stock still, waiting to see what will happen next. You can feel the building tension for violence in the air. I drag in the essence and my body sings from it, like having fuel thrown on my fire.
“Want to know a secret?” I waggle my eyebrows at her as I take another step closer to the bottom of the stairs.
Vanessa puffs out a breath. “What could you possibly know that I don’t already? You’re nothing but an ignorant child compared to us.”
She waves her hand like
she’s encompassing the entire room and everyone but me in it. Including my guys. That raises my hackles.
A slow, evil grin forms on my lips as I grab hold of the metal handrail for the staircase. “Maybe you do know my secrets,” I lean my torso forward and lower my voice to a whisper, “but I know yours, too.”
Vanessa licks her lips as commotion at the front door has most of the people positioned around us looking in that direction, but I don’t break our stare.
“Fire Department! Clear the building!” is repeated a few times, as men and women in full firefighter gear stomp through the door, ready to put out the nonexistent fire—and the metaphorical one that was flaring between us.
“Be seeing ya,” I announce to Vanessa with a cheerful lilt. Grim and Calix flank my sides, urging me to the door the firefighters came through. I look over my shoulder to see Vanessa and Gunnar in a similar standoff to the one we just shared.
“Don’t open the club back up for business until I can perform a thorough investigation. If you do, it will be grounds for the immediate stripping of your title, with prejudice,” Gunnar states, and it’s clear he’s not talking about the night club, he is speaking about Vanessa’s coven.
Vanessa doesn’t verbally respond, but her anger is written all over her face.
Chapter 21
I’m bouncing on my toes and throwing jabs in the air like a boxer after we clear the rescue personnel. “That was amazing! I want to kick her ass! I was like, you suck, and she was like…blah, blah, blah.” I stick my tongue out and make an ugly face.
Calix lays his hand over mine and guides it down to my side. “Okay, simmer down, killer.”
“We should go back in there and wait for those guys to leave, then we could…” I drag my thumb across my neck.
Gunnar lets out a bark of laughter, then schools his features quickly. “This isn’t a joke,” he chastises me.
“I know it’s not a joke. She’s killing off monsters, or Charmed ones, or whatever the hell you guys call us. We have to put a stop to it,” I demand, still pumped up.
“We will, but we don’t need these humans hearing you threaten to kill her. It’s inconvenient.” Grim rests his hand on my shoulder.
“Fine, whatever.” I cross my arms over my chest in a slight pout. “What are we supposed to do now? She knows we’re on to her. We can’t just let her go. She’ll probably try to disappear.”
“She can’t just disappear, Dami,” Calix corrects, urging me to walk even farther away from all the fire trucks and ambulances. There are still quite a few people from inside the club milling about too.
“She’s going to try to cover her tracks,” I warn them.
“She’ll try. I have a few of my men watching her, and they’ll report back to me if she does anything out of her norm.” Gunnar has his arms crossed over his chest and his legs spread wide as he glares at the building we just left.
I scoff, “What good will that do? She’s obviously been doing bad shit all along and nobody caught on.”
Gunnar slowly turns his head and glowers at me.
“What?” I throw my hands in the air. “Tell me I’m wrong. Someone died in there tonight. I could feel it, who knows how long it’s been going on.” I’m sorry if the truth hurts his feelings, but putting a stop to Vanessa’s killing is more important.
“Because now we know what we’re looking for.” Gunnar’s shoulders puff up a little along with his chest. It’s as if he takes a deep inhale and never lets the air go. I watch his mouth and jaw to see if his face will shift too.
“She’s right. We need to make sure Vanessa doesn’t hurt anyone else. She’s already much more powerful than any other witch I’ve come across, and she can’t be working alone,” Grim adds.
“Let me handle this. It’s my job,” Gunnar growls past clenched teeth.
“This is bigger than just you, Berserker. I didn’t even get called here to retrieve whoever they killed. That could mean they’re finding a way to cannibalize the souls along with the magic,” Grim informs him.
“We should just go back in there.” I take a few steps in the direction of the club, but I feel a hand on my shoulder, stopping me.
“Look.” Calix lifts his chin, and I watch as Vanessa and several others pile out of the club with the single focus to get to the cars waiting at the curb.
“We have to follow them.” I dip my shoulder and dislodge Calix’s hand.
“Wait, watch.” Gunnar steps up to my side.
“What am I waiting to see?” I huff out a frustrated breath.
“Do you recognize him, the one holding the door open?” Gunnar lowers his voice so no one outside our small group could hear, even if they tried. “He’s one of mine. Vanessa thinks he’s a seeker.”
I watch the man who interrupted us in Gunnar’s office close the door behind Vanessa, and climb into another car along with two other men. “What good is he?” I shove Gunnar’s chest as the all speed away. “Did he tell you Vanessa sacrificed someone in the club tonight?” I shove him again.
Gunnar takes my abuse, stepping back each time I push him. “He wasn’t there, he was looking for the other witch you met, the man,” he answers.
“This is stupid, we should just kill her right now.” I spin and focus on the car, intending to put a stop to this right now.
“Don’t, we need to know who she’s working with. If not, killing her won’t stop the Charmed ones from dying,” Calix cajoles, sounding all reasonable and shit.
“Ugh!” I stomp my foot.
“Let’s go home. We can regroup and figure out a plan.” Calix wraps his fingers around mine, grounding me.
“Fine, let’s go. I need to talk to my friends and make sure everyone is okay.” I face Grim with expectation. I know he’ll be the one transporting me.
“What do you mean no one has seen Aeson?” My voice is shrill. Samson is crouched in the corner. He looks like a massive black dog, if you ignore the fact that he isn’t covered in fur but some sort of plates that resemble armor. He’s eyeing Gunnar and Calix as if he would like nothing more than to use their bones to pick his teeth.
Grim steps closer to the beast and Samson doesn’t even spare him a glance. The Brownie hasn’t been seen. I was coming to learn when you last spoke with her. Samson’s voice is almost regal as his words echo in my mind.
“Has anyone else gone missing?” Grim inquires, telling me he can hear Samson too.
A few, but none as formidable as she. Samson turns his head and acknowledges Grim with a slight bow of his head.
“Do you too know each other?” I furrow my brows.
“The Berserker has his army, I have mine,” Grim answers. I look over Samson again, seeing him in a new light.
“Did you send him here to spy on me?” I’m incredulous.
The beast, Samson, makes a chuffing sound. The angel has my allegiance, but you have my friendship.
I click my tongue and close the gap between Samson and myself. “You’re such a sweetie.” I drop a little kiss on the tip of his warm nose, while giving him a scruff behind both ears.
“Uh, I don’t think you should be doing that,” Calix cautions.
Samson pushes his head a little harder to the left, telling me he wants a little more scratching on that side. I peer at Calix while Samson’s massive head is still in my hands. “What?”
Calix lifts his hand and motions to Samson. “You do realize that’s a Hellhound?”
Imbecile. Samson pushes into my thoughts. I chuckle a little as his mouth opens and his tongue lolls out the slightest bit. His behavior is at such odds with his thoughts.
“As you can see, Nemean, she has nothing to fear,” Grim comments, sounding a little peeved.
“It’s been a few days since I’ve seen Aeson.” I think back to the last night she was here and I ran off without spending any real time with her. I step back from Samson as an icy thought fills my veins. “You don’t think it was her at the club?” I reach for Grim’s arm, half to ho
ld myself up, and half because I need him to tell me no. That there is no way Aeson could have been the one murdered at Rumors today.
Grim pulls my hand and wraps his arm around me. “I don’t know, Damiana. I wasn’t called to collect the soul, but the magic didn’t feel strong enough to be a Brownie.” He searches my eyes before promising, “We’ll find her.”
I nod and cling to him, he’s solid and strong. I peer over at Gunnar and Calix who are only a few feet away, neither of them looks bothered that I’m wrapped in Grim’s arms. I already can’t imagine what it would be like to lose one of them.
I push myself away from Grim, unable to meet his eyes. I can’t let him or the others know just how much I’ve already come to enjoy having them around. I need to focus on Aeson and finding out where she is, not be worried about these three disappearing on me. “We need to find her. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that she’s missing, and Vanessa’s been siphoning Charmed powers.” I turn my focus back on Samson. “Do you have any information that would help me find her? She’s always been so secretive about where she spends her days and nights when she’s not here.”
The Brownie lives among her kind. One of her warriors reached out to see if we could contact you. They know of you, but not how to reach you.
“Shit,” I curse, rolling my lips together.
“What’s he saying, who’s missing?” Gunnar demands, his voice rough.
“The Brownie assassin,” Grim mutters. “We need to find her. If they get that kind of power…” He lets the sentence trail off.
I grab a hold of Grim’s arm and squeeze. “If they hurt her, I will hang them with their own entrails after I shred their souls.”
“She’s perfect,” Gunnar whispers softly.
“We will find her, Damiana,” Grim promises again.
“Samson, tell her warriors, people, whatever… that we’re going to find her. Make sure they know where I am. Please,” I add as an afterthought. He doesn’t deserve my irritation, but I know who does.
Friends With The Monsters Page 19
