“No. Of course not, but maybe they didn’t find what they were looking for.”
“Or maybe …” I held up a finger. “They took a book.”
He gave me half a smile and shook his head. “You’re an optimist.”
“That’s correct. But in this case, it’s logic. They attacked the Academy, but for what reason? They killed two tutors, and some cadets were hurt. That hardly seems a pressing reason to infiltrate this place, after … how long? I mean, they’ve known about this place for ages, right? Surely they could have sussed out the location if they’d tried hard enough.”
“Possibly …”
“So, logic dictates they wanted something. Something specific and important brought them here.”
“I have learned that the Dread don’t always operate on logic,” Uri said. “Maybe merely knowing the location of this place was enough to prompt an attack.”
“I like my theory better.”
“Why?”
“Because otherwise, we’d have combed through that damned log for no reason.”
This time he flashed me a smile of even, white teeth.
The smile threw me for a moment because it softened an otherwise austere face.
“You may leave if you wish,” Uri offered.
“No. I have an idea. We can make this process easier if you tell me which books might be worth stealing. I mean, which titles sound like the Dread might want to get their hands on them?”
“The book of life. The tome of eternal miasma. The artifices of power.” He looked up with a sigh. “Any number of these could have information inside that they covet.”
“Fine, we’ll do it the same way we did with the artifacts. Luckily those had logged descriptions, not names. Otherwise, we’d have been fucked.”
“You don’t have to stay. I can take you to Deadside if you wish,” he offered again.
I gave him a cheeky smile. “And let you take all the credit when you do find the missing piece? Nope. I’m staying. But I will need a coffee. Want me to grab you something?”
My wrist vibrated, then my comm beeped. A message. I tapped it, and nothing happened. Shit. How did I open the damn thing? An icon appeared. I tapped that. The screen flashed and beeped, but then the message finally appeared.
Patrol’s been pushed up to tonight. Meet at Lumiers on west side corner ASAP. Send your location and Nox will pick you up – Sariah
Shit. I was momentarily torn, but I’d made a promise. The reapers were my responsibility, and they had to come first.
“You have to go, don’t you?” Uri said.
“Patrol’s been brought forward. Nox will pick me up.” I made to type a reply.
“I can drop you off,” Uri said. “It will be quicker.”
And leave me weak-kneed, but yes, quicker. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
No need for pickup. I have a ride. See you soon – Fee
Uri closed the log, stood, and held out his hand. “May I tou—”
“You don’t have to ask permission every time you touch me.”
He slow-blinked at me as if this was an alien concept to him.
“You’ll soon know if I don’t want to be touched.”
He inclined his head and offered me that half-smile again. “In that case, shall we?”
I stepped into his embrace.
“Location?” he asked.
“Lumiers on the corner of West Street. Do you know it?”
“I doubt there’s an outlier, celestial or demon, who doesn’t.” His chest rose and fell against mine, and I caught a whiff of vanilla. “Close your eyes.”
I did.
Chapter Twelve
Uri hugged me to his chest, one arm tight around my waist as my body recovered from the trip. The scent of impending rainfall mingled with his vanilla aroma. My fingers flexed on his biceps, and I leaned my forehead against his shoulder, taking deep breaths to quell the nausea that rolled in my belly.
“You’ll be fine in a moment,” he promised.
He made circles on my back, and heat radiated out across my shoulders, soothing and calming.
“Better?” he asked.
I did feel better. A little too better. Mmmmm. God, I was like a pussy in need of a stroking. Wait, that sounded wrong. Or was it … I seriously suffered from dirty mind syndrome.
“Seraphina?” Uri asked.
“Better, yes, thanks.”
He released me, and my body instantly cooled, craving his silvery warmth. Was it possible to become addicted to a celestial’s touch? He felt safe and serene. But then my surroundings registered. A street, slick with rain, and the air crackling with the promise of more.
“Lumiers is across the street,” Uri said.
I glanced in the direction he indicated. A building with a pink awning and three floors sat on the corner of the street. Warm light spilled out onto the path in front of it, and the shadowy shapes of figures could be seen through the frosted windows.
“I’ll stay till you get inside,” Uri said.
“You’re not coming in?” Of course he wasn’t. He had a log to get through, and patrol wasn’t his problem. So why did I want him to stay a little longer?
His smile was wry. “What you’re feeling is called the aura,” Uri said. His eyes were sad. “The longing, the warmth in your chest, is all a reaction to what I am. You’ll get used to it.” He jerked his head toward Lumiers. “Go now.”
“You’ll let me know if you find anything?” I needed to know, but I also wanted to see him again. Damn that aura.
“You’ll be the first person I tell.” He gave me his enigmatic half-smile again. “After all, you did help a little.”
He’d better be teasing. “I did more than half the work.”
“About a third,” he conceded.
I laughed. “Fine. Call me later.” And then it hit me. “Wait, how will you contact me?”
“I’ll send a message,” he said. “There is a system in place for messages between the Beyond and the Underealm. And if you should need me before then, you may call me. If you call in earnest, I will hear you, and I will come.”
“Just say your name?”
“In earnest.”
Say his name and mean it. “Got it. Thanks.”
I headed across the street, ordering myself not to look back to see if he was watching. But the tug in my tummy had me turning my head just as my feet hit the pavement on the other side. Fuck it.
I looked back.
The opposite pavement was empty. My heart sank, and then a raindrop smacked me in the face. Shit. I ducked under the awning and pushed open the door to Lumiers. A strange tingle raced over my skin as I stepped over the threshold, and then the delicious aroma of freshly brewed coffee and cinnamon buns hit me. My mouth pooled with saliva. God, how long had it been since I’d eaten a cinnamon bun? Kiara had made me a cake for my birthday, but Mal’s acting up meant we hadn’t gotten to eat it.
He owed me cake. More ammunition against him.
I scanned the cheery interior. A counter stretched along the wall to my left dotted with cake stands laden with baked treats. There was a cash register, old-school-style with the typewriter buttons, and a modern coffee machine took up the back wall. Freestanding lamps were placed in the corners of the room, and cushy sofas and small round side tables were arranged on the floor. Books lined the wall to the right, rising up to the first floor where a balcony wrapped around the structure. I caught a peek of more sofas. Oh, and there was the staircase leading up to the first floor. Most of the sofas were taken up by patrons, and none of them were human.
I didn’t know how I could tell because they mostly looked human, but on closer inspection, there was something off about each one, and then I noticed the pointed tips on ears, the tiny bud of horns poking out from a hairline, and in one case, silver scales running across the backs of his hands.
These were outliers. This place wasn’t for humans. Uri’s earlier comment made sense now.
A newspaper lay open on a nearby table, headline screaming “Westside Killer Strikes Again.” A couple of months ago, this news would have shocked me because Necro was meant to be safe. Crime was supposed to be low, but now that I’d torn back the veil and planted my feet firmly on the other side, the fact this kind of shit hadn’t been reported more often was a surprise. I picked up the paper and scanned the article. Five murders. Bodies drained of blood. Vampire …What? They’d used the word vampire? What newspaper was this? I unfolded it. The Outlier Times. A paper for us, not for humans.
“They don’t realize the truth,” a female voice said matter-of-factly.
I blinked in surprise at the woman behind the counter. Where the heck had she come from? And why did non-humans keep doing this to me—just appearing out of thin air? Also, why was she pink? Like all-over-body pink. Even her eyes were pink with azure rings around the irises.
She cocked a brow and canted her head slightly. “Go on, take a good look, sweets. Get it out of your system. Yes, it’s all pink—tits, ass, and muff.”
I almost choked on my own saliva. “Wow. TMI.”
“Gawper.” But a smile tugged at her mouth, and then she looked down at the paper in my hand. “Humans don’t have a clue because we clean up their mess. But it’s real, and it’s happening, and not just to them.”
“Vampires?”
“Mouths and Dread and other shit that goes bump in the night. And you poor reapers just don’t have the resources to cope with the numbers.”
She knew I was a reaper?
“What can I get you, Dominus?” she said with a sly smile.
“How do you know who I am?”
“I keep tabs on things.” She narrowed her eyes and studied me for a heartbeat. “Mocha, extra sprinkles, and a cinnamon bun.”
I blinked at her in surprise. “Is that your superpower? Knowing what people want to eat and drink?”
“One of many.” She winked. “Take a seat, I’ll bring it over.”
“I’m not sure I have time. I’m meeting—”
“Sariah and the gang. Yes, I’m aware. They called ahead and said to expect you.” She gave me a cheeky grin exposing tiny white teeth and pink gums.
So that’s how she knew who I was. “In that case, I’ll have a small mocha.”
“With extra sprinkles?” she asked.
Only a fool turned down extra sprinkles. “Sure.”
I pulled up a stool at the counter, and she placed the cinnamon bun and the mocha in front of me.
“Well, eat up. You’re going to need the energy against those bloodsuckers.” Her mouth turned down. “Streets aren’t safe for anyone any longer. Regency Pack’s doing what it can to keep the Westside safe, but they just don’t have the numbers against the fucking fang scourge. They’re like rats. Dirty bloodsucking rats with fancy clothes.”
Regency Pack … Why did that ring a bell? Husky eyes in an Adonis face. Grayson Loch, the alpha of the Loup Garou. That pack? My stomach flipped. The way he’d looked at me … The way my body had reacted to his nearness …
“You all right? You look a little flushed,” pink lady asked.
I took a gulp of coffee that was way too hot and blinked back tears. “I’m fine.”
“Blow, honey. You got to blow it before you sip.” She winked.
A bell tinkled, and she looked over my head with a smile. “Caramel latte, chocolate croissant, and … No, honey. We don’t serve cock here.”
I’d just taken another sip and ended up spluttering.
She calmly handed me a napkin. “You’re not a swallower, then? Funny, you look like you swallow.”
Fucking hell.
The bell tinkled again.
“Fee, you beat us here.”
I turned on my stool to face Sariah. Nix and Nox strode in behind her, and I did a double-take. Sariah was dressed in black slacks, boots, and a deep purple halter neck paired with a form-fitting jacket. The guys wore shirts with the top buttons undone, dark jeans, and kick-the-shit-out-of-you boots. Hair was slicked back, and horns polished. Sariah had braided her mohawk, and dark kohl ringed her eyes, making them pop even harder. She looked like a warrior, despite the going-out outfit, and the guys with their huge frames and horns looked lethal, and then there was me.
Not exactly intimidating. And there I was, doubting myself again. I slapped the voice upside the head. I had the scythe for a reason. I was descended from Samael and Eve, and I could totally kick ass and take charge. They needed me.
I canted my head, studying them. “Um … aren’t you guys a little overdressed?”
Where were the black reaper uniforms? The tough material that wouldn’t rip, that would cushion them when they fell and protect their skin. I hadn’t had a chance to change into my patrol outfit, because, oh yeah. I didn’t have one, but surely they should be dressed for a fight?
I looked down at my jeans and long-sleeved polo top and then back up at Sariah.
She grinned. “We’re undercover tonight.” She patted her hip, and I noted the slender weapons belt that blended almost seamlessly against the black material of her slacks. It was mostly hidden by the jacket. “We’re covered, though.” She handed me a bag I hadn’t noticed she was clutching. “For you. It should fit.”
I took a peek inside to see a crimson halter neck.
“It’ll go with your jeans,” she said. “You have weapons, right?”
I nodded. I had my scythe and my dagger with me.
“How did you get here so fast from the Underealm?” Nox asked.
“I was at the Academy with Uri. He brought me.”
“The Grigori?” Sariah’s brows cocked in surprise. “You know him?”
“He saved my life.”
Nix and Nox exchanged glances.
I was missing something here. “What?”
“Uriel is somewhat of a legend,” the pink lady said. “A demon who ascended to celestial, or so the rumors say.”
“It’s a myth,” Nox said. “Demons can’t ascend.”
“Whatever,” Nix said. “We don’t have time for this. Grayson and his pack will be waiting for us.”
My belly did the weird dip again. “Why are we working with the pack?”
“It’s their territory,” Sariah explained, “and they called us in for backup. There have been several attacks on humans in the area, and a Loup Garou went missing last night. They found his dead body this morning. Drained of blood.”
Oh, God. All qualms about working with Grayson fled. I grabbed the bag and stood. “Where can I change?”
Chapter Thirteen
Westside was the domain of the kebab house and the Chinese takeout. It was dimly lit bars and seedy clubs, and it was a half-hour train ride to Eclipse, but this was the Regency Pack’s territory.
From the name, you’d expect their territory to be more central Necro where the classy bars and clubs made up the nightlife.
Sariah led us through the streets until we hit what had to be the hub of this borough. It was probably around ten p.m., maybe later, and the bars were filled with people. It hadn’t even hit peak time yet.
My gaze roved the street, the roofs, the dark shady corners. “Do the vampires attack when it’s busy like this?”
“It’s the only time they attack,” Sariah said. “They like the crowds. It’s easy to pick off prey from the edges of the herd.”
“Grayson said several people have gone missing from Killion’s Bar,” Nix explained. “We’re scoping it out.”
Well, that explained the outfits. We were playing clubbers. “And where is Grayson?” My voice got a little higher when I said the alpha’s name. I cleared my throat and dropped an octave. “Is he meeting us there?”
But Sariah and co were crossing the road. The lights of a club were to our left. Bouncers at the door, queue snaking down the street. The faint stench of rubbish hit me, and then there was something else. Woodsy, earthy, familiar on a visceral level. I took another breath, but it was gone.
; Wait, why were we headed toward an alley? I hated alleys. “Hey.” I made a grab for Sariah’s arm, and her brows pinched together in a frown. “I don’t do alleys. Alleys are bad news.”
And as if to illustrate my point, several hulking figures emerged from the shadowy depths of said alley.
My thighs bunched as my body readied for fight or flee, just like Azazel had trained me. But then moonlight spilled across golden locks and kissed the tips of dark lashes. Silver eyes ringed in indigo locked onto me. Grayson’s mouth parted slightly. He was surprised to see me. Even as that gave me a stab of satisfaction over the sense of having the upper hand, a clawing flared to life in my belly, like hunger, or thirst, or the want for something unnamed but vital.
My gaze tracked across his face, taking in his broad chiseled features, the dip in his upper lip, and the razor edge of his jaw hugged by stubble. He’d shaved his golden beard, but instead of making him look younger, it made him look more intimidating. Harder. Rougher. His hair was loose and tucked behind his ears. You’d think it would soften him, but fuck, it made him look even more masculine. I wanted to touch that hair, sniff it, rub my face—I was going nuts. It was the only logical explanation for my reaction to him.
“Grayson,” Sariah greeted him. “This is Seraphina Dawn, our Dominus.”
He didn’t take his eyes off me. “We’ve met. Twice.” He took a deep breath, and his eyes fluttered closed. “You’re a demon?”
I nodded, heart pounding so hard in my chest that I thought it would crack my ribs. What the fuck was wrong with me?
“I’m a Dominus.” My voice sounded husky and breathless.
The kind of voice reserved for sex, for when your man is deep inside you, and you ask for more. When you tell him to thrust harder, faster, and not to stop.
I shook my head slightly to clear it.
“Come here,” he said.
It was an order, not a request, and I took an involuntary step forward before checking myself. Hell no.
His eyes narrowed, locking on my foot.
Reaper Uninvited: Deadside Reapers book 2 Page 8
