I bit back the tears tickling my throat. Megan untangled herself from my grasp. I shot Elijah a chagrined goodbye and headed for the door. Megan caught my hand and pressed it firmly. “Everybody deserves a chance to save their family. They’re lucky to have you in their corner. I’m honored to help.”
Sam knotted his fingers in mine and dragged me out the door, still gaping at Megan. The corridor was deserted, most of the family quarters emanating the sounds of people preparing for bed. Sam’s lips quirked to one side as he watched me out of the corner of his eye.
I arched my eyebrows. “What?”
Sam rubbed his thumb over the soft flesh inside my wrist. “I told you so.” I screwed up my face and rolled my eyes. He grinned. “Don’t be such a sore loser, Grace.”
“It wasn’t a game, so I didn’t lose,” I said. Sam grinned, and my stomach tumbled at the sight of his dimples. “Anyway, Sam, it might be a temporary thing. Megan could be horrible person again by tomorrow.” I bit my lip. “Who knows what tomorrow will bring.”
Sam lifted our joined hands and pressed my hand against his heart. He opened his mouth to speak but froze midway and narrowed his eyes at the empty stairwell. I squinted trying to isolate the source of his concern from the mass of shadow. A small figure with an unlit Spirit blade in his hand. I pulled away from Sam and sat down beside Ozzie.
He stared at me with huge brown eyes. “I saw Lucas and Jasmine leaving. You shouldn’t be going. Something isn’t right. Deirdre said Dawn was gone on vacation. She’d never leave without saying goodbye to me.”
His mouth turned down at the corners, a balanced blend of disappointment and fear. I patted his knee. Sam gave me a warning look. I turned my back to him. “Ozzie, you’re right, Dawn would always say goodbye to you if she had the chance. We’re going to try and figure out what’s going on. You don’t need to be scared.”
Oscar shoved his chin in the air. “I’m not scared. I’m never scared.”
My lips curved upwards of their own accord. “That’s great, Ozzie. I need you to do me a favor, okay? Is your mom back in your quarters? Are all the other elders from the New York cell upstairs for the evening?”
He nodded.
“Okay, Ozzie, I want you to keep your eyes open. If you see anything you don’t like, anything that makes you feel strange, you tell your mom, and you get all the families to the chapel. Okay? You use your superpowers and build another one of those awesome walls, yeah? We’ll be back soon, Lucas too. But you only need to do that if you feel something is wrong, can you do that?”
Ozzie grinned at me. “I can do that. I know when things aren’t right. I can feel it.” He tapped his chest. “Mom says I was born with a compass for danger in my heart.”
My fingers pinched over my upper lip, trying to dissipate the burning sensation behind my eyes. I couldn’t trust my voice so I kissed him goodbye instead, giggling as he wiped his forehead in disgust and scampered back down the stairs.
Elijah and Megan appeared on the step in front of me. Megan tapped her watch and pursed his lips. The smile died on my lips at the familiar gesture. I closed my heart to any memory of Eve and followed Megan and Elijah back to Sam.
We had bigger fish to fry tonight.
Chapter Forty-Two
London by night was a different beast entirely. Megan whistled, giving the signal we were safe to climb over the railings of Seething Lane Garden and onto the pristine pavement. Megan led the way, pulling Elijah against her side like a typical courting couple.
The street was shrouded in mist, punctured every few feet by the light of a streetlamp. I tripped on a cracked paving slab and stumbled against the gate to a chapel. A trio of skulls grinned down at me, watching me blindly from eyeless sockets. St. Olave’s Church. Sam tucked my hand inside his closed fist.
Lucas gestured for us to stop at a cash machine on Tower Hill. There was already a queue building outside the club, snaking around the corner like a young, vivacious serpent.
Jasmine traced her eyebrows with her middle finger. “I really wish I had my glasses and my boots.”
Megan nodded in agreement, eyeballing the crowd and yanking at the neckline of her dress. Lucas patted them both on the back. “Chins up, ladies. You’re not here to hustle tonight. You’re here to down the champagne and spend daddy’s money, comprende?”
They watched him shove a wad of cash into his back pocket with matching scowls. I tipped my head towards the cash machine. “Speaking of which, whose money are we spending, Luc?”
“Shadow Children’s.” Lucas slid a one hundred pound note inside my purse.
I raised my eyebrows. “And a secret organization that’s hunted by one of the most powerful police teams on the planet manages to accrue massive wealth, how?”
I eyed two policemen marching along the opposite side of the street as I spoke, following the bobbing of their tall helmets. The other five answered me in unison. “Blood.”
My eyes widened. Jasmine linked my arm and lead me towards the end of the queue. My feet were heavy. “Nobody has to donate their blood, but most Half-Born are happy to offer a donation to help fund the society.”
I spoke slowly, annunciating every syllable. “Jasmine. You take their blood. And sell it?”
Jasmine shrugged her shoulders.
“To who?” I asked. Jasmine flashed her bottom teeth at me and tipped her head towards the club. I answered my own question. “The Demons. Of course. So they can use it for their otherworldly magic crap.” I pulled my eyebrows together. “Do you want my blood?”
Megan snickered, and Lucas shot her the evileye. She looked away. Lucas linked my other arm as we crossed the road, keeping his voice low. “Grace, Half-Born blood has been traded for centuries, ever since the Spirit War. Whatever quality it possesses that attracts the Spirits and amplifies the Half-Born’s gifts seems to be a potent medium for the manipulation of magic. Demon-Born blood— it’s not the same. My mom says even Emmanuel hasn’t been able to make use of it and he got his first sample thirty years ago.”
I looked at Lucas in surprise. “The Shadow Children only rescued their first Demon-Born thirty years ago?”
Lucas nodded, glancing over his shoulder at Sam. I glared at them both, sensing the tension building as we joined the end of the queue. “What, guys?”
Sam sighed. “There’s no record of anyone like us until about three decades ago, Grace. No mention or sign of people being able to harness the power of a Spirit Demon at all. Never mind using their essence to procreate.”
“But that’s ridiculous, Sam. There were Demon-Born before that. Eve must be at least forty.” Sam held my gaze, letting the cogs turn in my mind. “You think she’s the first one. You think Eve is the first Demon-Born?”
Sam pressed his head against mine and kissed my nose. “That’s what Peter thinks.” He paused, and I yanked my head back refusing to let him pull me closer until he finished what he was going to say. He narrowed his lips in apology. “The Mother of Demons. That’s what he calls her.”
I let him wrap his arms around me, pressing my face into his chest as the queue inched forward. The Mother of Demons. I closed my eyes and my heart ached. Eve, what have you done?
The bouncer at the door was a dark haired man. Short and slight with a friendly face. Only his eyes gave him away. Hidden in their depths, I saw a hundred lifetimes of bloody and hunger. As he ushered us into the nightclub, he pressed a cold hand against my back. I shrank away from his touch, certain that I had seen the flash of needle-sharp teeth in the instant of contact. Sam snatched my hand and pulled me through the glass doors, searching for the spot on the dance floor where the crowd was deepest.
“What the hell was he?” I asked.
I could barely hear Sam over the throbbing base and the thrumming voices. He leaned forward, whispering into my ear. “Careful, Grace. Your magic. It’s free. You can sense them now, you know that. The Demons.”
I let myself relax into his embrace, trying to control the panic ris
ing from my gut. I couldn’t mess up. Cat and Dawn were depending on me. Cain too. Jasmine and Lucas forced their way through the crowd to join us. Elijah raised a glass at us from the bar. Megan lifted a shot glass of a bright green substance and clinked it against his champagne flute before knocking it back in a single gulp. Her face split into a grimace as the taste hit her mouth. I smirked.
Jasmine shouted into my ear. “Megan and Elijah can watch from the bar. None of the Demons has them up close. They should be safe.” I wiped my sweaty hands in my silky fabric of my dress, praying she was right. She shouted again. “We need to find Gabriel, can you do that thing? Try and sense him?”
I bit my lip, and hoped that I was right about my ability. I pressed my face against Sam’s shirt to help me focus. I tried to block out the noise in the club. The rhythm of the bass. The beat vibrating across the floor and up my bare legs. The smell of fresh sweat and pheromones. I opened my mind’s eye and let it absorb the world around me.
Sam hit me first. The essence of him. Determined, strong, arrogant. It rolled over me like the tide, dragging me deeper inside him, where the hurt and vulnerability was curled tightly. He ran his hand down the length of my hair, and I writhed against his body, overpowered by the strength of his emotion.
I ground my teeth together and forced myself to stretch further, away from where my heart beat in time to Sam’s. The room was pulsing with life of every shade and texture. Lust, desire, heartbreak, hope. They lashed me until my jaw ached from the pressure building inside my head.
And then I found him.
A drop in the ocean of life. His essence was singular. Loneliness. Pure and utter tormented solitude. I fell back into my body with a shuddering gasp. Sam cupped my face, his eyes as black as night. “He’s here. Over by the door to the Dungeon Path.”
I waved Sam’s hands away from my face and kissed his lips, resisting the temptation to taste his longing again. I gestured for Jasmine and Lucas to follow us. Elijah tipped his head, eyes trained on our little groups as we negotiated a path through the crowd.
“I see him. The end of that bar. Doesn’t seem to be any other Demons around but we need to be certain. We won’t get a second chance.” Sam’s lips barely moved as he leaned over Jasmine and me, pretending to study the cocktail menu.
Lucas ran his eyes along the length of the bar, searching for any sign of Angels. He froze to the spot when he reached the halfway point, every inch of his body as taut as a drum. I followed his line of vision to a slender figure wearing torn jeans and bright yellow trainers. His hair was braided in precise cornrows. The realization hit Sam’s brain a second before mine. “Oh crap, it’s Brandon.”
Lucas grabbed Sam’s arm and squeezed it. His nails dug into the skin with such force I could see the flesh beginning to color. “We can’t let him see us, Sam. If the Demons think he has anything to with us they’ll hunt him down when we’re gone.”
Sam’s jaw pumped in time to the grinding of his teeth. He ran his hand over his forehead in frustrated disbelief. “Go get him, Lucas.”
Lucas crushed his fingers more tightly into Sam’s arm. Sam shook him off. “Christ, Luc man, listen to me. We don’t have time to hang back and wait for him to move on to another spot. Gabriel could leave at any minute. Go and get him, bring him back up to Megan and Eli. Be cool. You guys never have to be seen with us. The minute we’re done we leave separately, you kiss Brandon goodbye, and nobody ever makes a connection between him and Grace and I. Okay? You got this?”
Lucas nodded, his face tight.
Sam caught his hand. “Just don’t let him see us, right? Whatever you have to do. Get him the hell out of here and over to the others before he can catch sight of us.”
Lucas held on to his hand for a second before shooting a look in my direction. Jasmine and I gave him matching grim smiles. Sam turned his back to the bar and pulled myself and Jasmine into a huddle. “Okay, our target is still standing down the end of the bar, nursing his drink. We need to catch him off guard. He can’t know it’s us until we have him where we want him. Jasmine, you look least like you did the last time we met him. Can you hold his attention?”
Jasmine threw back her shoulders and licked her lips. “Easy as pie.”
We watched her saunter down the length of the bar. Every inch of her body exuded confidence. Sam and I traced her movements, swinging around in a wide circle so we were pressed against the wall beside the back entrance to the club, facing Jasmine and the bar.
Gabriel stood between Jasmine and us, watching her approach. I let my mind open a crack and sensed his interest in her stirring like a dragon waking from an eternal slumber. She stopped a few feet short of him and leaned over the bar between two strongly built men in their early twenties. She let her braid fall onto her chest, twirling it between her fingers as she pretended to peruse the cocktail menu.
One of the men grabbed the end of her braid and brushed it across his face. “I could think of plenty of places I would like to have tickled with that plait.”
He leered down at her, muscles straining against his form fitting shirt. Gabriel watched the scene unfolding with the intensity of cheetah stalking a gazelle. Jasmine snatched her hair back, winding it slowly around her wrist. The man on her other side leaned over her, winking at his friend. “Feisty little thing. You should let your hair down, love. Pull it out of that ratty braid. Pocahontas goes wild, yeah?”
Jasmine smiled at them both sweetly, batting her lashes. “That’s terribly sweet of you, guys, but I don’t think you’re my type. You know what they say about boys who need to pump their muscles up like a balloon?”
A look of shock flashed across their faces, quickly chased by a burst of anger. Gabriel slid off his stool and rapped his hand on the bar. “Party’s over, men. Go.”
They didn’t even broach an argument. Both men turned and slithered across the dance floor, leaving behind full glasses. Jasmine continued to run her finger along the cocktail menu. She didn’t glance in Gabriel’s direction. I felt his interest in her swelling. He tapped the menu with a long elegant finger. “Number 9 might be a promising choice.”
Jasmine drew her full lips together. “Sex on the beach. That’s as original as you can get? I was handling those clowns myself, by the way.”
Gabriel draped himself over the bar. “Ah yes, they seemed to make it quite clear what they wanted to handle. Difficult to blame them.”
Jasmine narrowed her eyes, flicking them in his direction. “Is that a line that works often?”
A slow smirk tugged at his lips. “I rarely bother with lines. Very few girls make me work that hard.”
Jasmine turned her back to him and gestured for the bartender to take her order. Gabriel laid a single finger against her wrist, straightening his body. “What I should have said was that not many girls catch my eye lately. You did.”
Jasmine crossed her arms and angled herself towards him.
Gabriel smiled. “I have a private bar next door, would you care to join me for a drink and some good conversation?”
“I haven’t been given any indication that you can keep up your side of this scintillating conversation.” Jasmine let the corners of her mouth tilt upwards. “But I’m a risk taker. Lead the way.”
Gabriel didn’t even glance us as he opened the door. Jasmine waited for him to hold the door open fully, displaying the entirely empty private bar, before she took his arm and walked through with him. Sam’s eyes flashed, and we slid in behind them before the door sealed shut. The knife was in Sam’s hand before I could blink, pressed up against Gabriel’s back.
Sam’s voice was sharper than the blade. “Hello again, Gabe. I believe we need to have a little chat.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Gabriel didn’t flinch. He walked steadily forward with Sam attached to his back like a limpet. Sam jerked Gabriel to a stop, and a bloom of fresh blood spread across the back of his light blue shirt. Gabriel’s halt was sudden, slicing the blade deeper into his back.
I cringed, instinctively, but Gabriel’s expression was passive and his tone calm. “I thought we might have greater privacy in my study. If the reports are accurate, you had another little tête-à-tête with my colleague, Fergus, this afternoon. It would be quite the boon for him to arrive back for a drink, only to find his prey had fallen into his lap.”
Jasmine’s eyes reflected the anxiety churning in my stomach. Sam tightened his grip on Gabriel. “Grace, check and see if there is anyone around. Make sure his study is safe before we enter.”
I stepped forward and Sam frowned. “Not with your eyes, Grace. That’s not enough.”
My gaze slid over Gabriel, recalling his unexpected appearance from thin air on our previous visit to the Tower Dungeon. A veritable Cheshire Cat. I closed my eyes to let my senses expand to cover the room, and stretched further to feel my way along the Dungeon Path and into Gabriel’s study. Empty. I gave Sam the nod.
The study was exactly as I recalled it, but tonight a fire burned in the hearth. I drew my shoulders up and hugged my arms over my chest. “All the better to toast you with, Grandmamma.”
Gabriel’s lips twitched despite the expanding patch of red on his shirt. I winced. Sam gave me a puzzled look. “Just a little bit of blood, isn’t that right, Gabe? Nothing that’s going to bother a Demon? Almost indestructible, aren’t you? That’ll heal right up the minute we’re done.”
Sam pressed his face closer to Gabriel’s ear and nudged him with the tip of the blade. “Unless I have to slice through that ancient heart of yours. No recovering from that, is there? Would be a pity, your essence lingering here instead of in your own realm. An outsider for all eternity.”
Gabriel made eye contact with Jasmine, ignoring Sam entirely. “Remarkable, Jasmine. You’re quite the actor. It would have been easier if you had just asked to speak to me. Saved ruining a good shirt, too. But less fun. I enjoyed our little reintroduction. I wasn’t certain what you had planned for me when I saw you come in.”
The Shadow Children (The Demon-Born Trilogy Book 1) Page 24
