A street sign jutted out of the ground, and the words Rue Mort were painted on it in neat script. The street up ahead looked old-fashioned, like stepping back in time. The whole thing was quaint.
“Don’t let appearances fool you,” Nox said. “Look at the place with your demon eyes, not your human sight.”
“There are two sights?”
He looked surprised that I had to ask. “There are if you’re not pure demon. Your parents were human with a demon in their family tree, so you should have both sights.”
I stared at the street.
“Look deeper. Look beyond,” Nox instructed.
Irritation bloomed in my chest. “I don’t have time for this. I need to get to Annabeth’s.”
“And you won’t be able to if you don’t see. Humans who venture this way get turned around, and if they do slip through the net, they go missing. Rue Mort is a place for outcast outliers, built by outcast outliers. There is no place for humans here.”
“Fine.” I took a deep breath and stared at the street, taking in every detail until my eyes blurred, and then something shifted in my vision. A fog appeared hanging low on the streets, and the air took on a humid, wet feel. “It’s misty and foggy.”
“Yes, Fee, it is. Like I said, Rue Mort exists by its own rules. Come on.” He led me into the fog.
I jogged to keep up with him, trying not to slip on the wet cobbles. What was it with demon males and long strides?
“It’s not far,” he said.
We walked for a couple of minutes, past tall houses that loomed over me with dark windows for eyes and black railings that jutted up on either side of us like jagged teeth. There was a definite air of menace to this place, and I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder periodically because the sense that we were being followed was twin hot spots between my shoulder blades.
The fog swirled around my ankles and licked at my calves in a way that made me wonder if it was alive and trying to touch me up.
A man passed on the opposite side of the street, top hat low on his head to cast his face in shadow, calf-length cloak flapping in an invisible breeze. I caught a flash of red where his eyes should be.
“Don’t make eye contact,” Nox warned. “The people who live here can’t be trusted. They live on the periphery of outlier law, and unless you have a contract with them, there is no guarantee they won’t harm you. I assume we don’t have permission to be here?”
I shook my head.
“No worries. Azazel is the outlier liaison. If we come across any issues, we can use his name as leverage.”
The sun had fully set by the time we stopped outside a set of rusty gates. They were partially open. I peered through the rails at the overgrown lawn and caught sight of the top half of a swing set. The actual swing part was hidden by grass and weeds. The house itself was a detached building with a rickety-looking porch and boarded-up lower-floor windows.
“Would you like me to come with you?” Nox asked.
What, and see Azazel in a compromising position? “No!”
He blinked at me, taken aback by my abrupt tone.
I smiled. “I mean, no, thank you.”
“I’ll wait here then.” He gave me a wary look.
I wanted to send him off, but what if Azazel was incapacitated? What if he was hurt and unable to fly? In that case, I’d need Nox, and he’d have to draw his own conclusions about the whole affair.
I nodded. “Thanks. I’ll message you if I don’t need you to take me back.”
“I’ll be here.”
Okay, so he was looking at me suspiciously now. I needed to stop acting so spooked, but I was about to walk into a witch’s house. A witch who did blood magic. I took a deep breath, pushed open the gate, and strode up the path. She had Azazel for fucksake, and there was no way she was keeping him.
The porch creaked beneath my weight. Rotten, no doubt. Do not fall through, Fee. The front door was slightly open, taunting me to simply walk in.
If this were a horror movie, I’d be yelling at the heroine to get the fuck out of there. But this was no movie. Azazel was in there somewhere.
I pushed the door open and entered a foyer, which in its day might have been grand, but now was wreathed in shadows and cobwebs. Fucking hell, did this witch not clean? A staircase was dead ahead, curving up and out of view, and to my left was a huge arch and a lounge. The furniture was covered in dust sheets and the hearth was a dead husk.
Distant, lilting music drifted to my ears. It was coming from upstairs. The whiff of jasmine and something else, something heavy and cloying, teased my senses. I cleared my throat and strode forward.
“Hello? Annabeth, Azazel?” I was halfway up the stairs when the room below me flared to light.
The hearth was lit with a cheery fire now. What the hell?
I took a couple of steps down. “Hello?”
A shadow detached itself from the wall beside the boarded-up window and drifted into the middle of the room. It slowly took form. A male, pale and wistful with huge dark eyes and dark hair that curled under his ears, wavered in front of me.
“You’ve come for him, haven’t you?” he said in a cultured voice.
“Azazel? You saw him. Where is he?”
The specter looked up at the ceiling.
I made to turn away.
“She won’t let you have him.”
I paused. “She won’t have a fucking choice.”
His smile was pitying. “You must know very little of our world to come here with the will to make demands.”
My thumbs pricked in warning. He was right. I didn’t know nearly enough. “Who are you?”
“No one. No name. Nothing. I gave it all to my mistress, and she claimed it. Illiteracy was my downfall.”
Illiteracy? “You have a contract with her?”
He nodded. “And so does the demon. Signed in blood. Sealed in sex, bound in pain.”
He glanced up again.
My heart pounded hard in my chest. “He would have read it. He wouldn’t just sign it.”
“He read it. He accepted the price. But he only read the first layer. They only ever read the first layer.” He made a sad, pitying face. “They never look beneath. Sometimes the beneath is in her favor. Sometimes it’s in theirs.” He drifted closer, a sly look crossing his features. “But I can help you if you agree to help me.”
The hairs on my nape quivered. “How?”
“I can tell you what lies beneath.”
“I thought you couldn’t read.”
“Centuries have been my teacher.”
“How will that help me?”
“There is a loophole. A clause in the demon’s favor.”
A thud shook the ceiling, and the specter looked up again. “She will ride him soon. Take him deep inside her and force him to spill his demon seed into her body.”
I curled my hands into fists, ignoring the bite of my nails against my palms. “What do you want?”
“Break the chain around her neck. Break it and set me free.”
Break a chain. Sounded easy enough. “Fine.”
“Your word, bound by your honor.”
Fucksake. I needed the loophole. “I give you my word, dammit.”
His eyes glowed eerily in his spectral face. “Come closer.”
My skin broke out in gooseflesh. “Is that really necessary.”
He canted his head. “Do you want the clause?”
“Yes.”
“Then I must plant it in your mind. I cannot speak it.”
Fuck. I closed my eyes and took a step closer. Something cool and otherworldly brushed my forehead, and then knowledge bloomed in my mind. My eyes snapped open.
I knew what I had to do.
The specter whirled around me. “Up the stairs, first room on the right.” He closed his eyes. “It’s begun.”
Stomach in knots, I took the stairs two at a time. The scent of incense made my head fuzzy, so I was forced to stop to steady myself to acclim
I grabbed the handle and shoved the door open.
The distinctive smell of blood hit me. My mind struggled to take it all in. The strange rack to my left with leather straps attached to it, the fucked-up looking instruments laid out on a narrow table beside it. The dresser with a bowl of dark liquid in it and smudges of dark stuff smeared onto the wood.
Female moans, male grunts, and the slap of flesh on flesh hit me next. My head whipped to the other end of the room to a four-poster bed, where a feminine naked back, tapering to a slender waist, was visible undulating on the bed. It took a moment to register what was happening, but then it clicked. The woman was Annabeth, and she was riding Azazel’s cock.
My vision tunneled and latched onto her and then dropped to the man on the bed. Azazel’s eyes were closed, his lips pressed tightly together, jaw tense as if he was in pain, resisting, hurting, holding back. Blood streaked his chiseled cheeks and lashed across his broad chest in claw-like wounds. His arms were bound to the bedposts by leather ties.
Rage unlike anything I’d ever experienced coursed through my veins like wildfire, and then with a scream, I lunged. I grabbed the witch by the hair and yanked her forward. The force of my action had her sliding off Azazel and hitting the ground.
She was on her feet fast, rearing around, teeth bared at me, hands raised to cast some curse or spell, no doubt. Her violet eyes flashed with power, and she began to chant.
“What?” Azazel sounded dazed. “Fee, how are you here? Annabeth, no. You kill her, and the contract is void.”
Annabeth froze mid-chant, but I didn’t wait to see what she’d do. I turned to Azazel, naked and helpless on the bed.
Keeping my gaze above his waist, I climbed up and tried to undo the ties. Bitch had double-knotted.
“Fee …” His voice cracked.
I blinked back tears of anger. “I got this. One second.” But they wouldn’t budge. A raw sob broke from my throat. “Why won’t they fucking budge.”
“Fee, it’s all right,” Azazel said softly, wearily. “Please, just go. I’ll be home in a few hours.”
I glared down at him. “Fuck you, Azazel. Fuck you for doing this.” I grabbed his jeans from the head of the bed and laid them across his crotch to cover him.
I climbed off the bed and faced Annabeth. “Untie him. Now.”
She’d slipped on her robe and was smoking a cigarette. An emerald stone suspended on a silver chain was visible in the creamy V between her breasts.
“Let me see her out, Beth,” Azazel said.
She rolled her eyes and flicked her fingers. The ties vanished, and Azazel was free. I looked away as he dressed, wanting to give him his privacy, not wanting to see the bruises and welts that marred his body because every wound made the breath in my lungs hotter. Every moment he spent in this room naked made my temperature rise with ire.
Annabeth raked me up and down. “So, this is the Dominus you wish to protect.”
Azazel was wearing his jeans, but his torso was still bare and bleeding freely now. I glanced at the bowl on the dresser filled with thick, dark fluid. Blood. Azazel’s blood.
Her gaze flicked to Azazel. “You have two minutes. Get rid of her and get back on that bed.”
Azazel gripped my elbow and tried to steer me out of the room.
I shrugged him off. “No.”
His face was pale, but his eyes flashed dangerously. “You need to go. Now,” he bit out. “Dammit, Fee. We need the amulet.”
“Fuck the amulet. If this is the price, I don’t want it.” I locked eyes with Annabeth. “I invoke clause 136 and assert my claim.”
Her top lip curled, turning her beautiful face into something ugly and frightening. “Jasper!” She scanned the room. “You bastard. Show yourself.”
The specter. She was calling him, but he didn’t come.
She stubbed her cigarette out in an ornate ashtray on her dresser and focused on Azazel. “You told me you didn’t have a soulmate, Azazel.”
Azazel frowned. “I don’t.”
“Nice try,” she said to me. “The prior claim clause can only be activated by a soulmate.”
I took a deep breath because once I did this, there was no going back. Once I did this, he’d know the truth.
I grabbed hold of my top and yanked it down, stretching the neck of my T-shirt to showcase the mark. His mark.
“I am his fucking soulmate.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Annabeth’s expression smoothed out like glass at the sight of the mark. She stood taller and looked down her nose at me before transferring her epically cool gaze to Azazel.
“The deal is off,” she said. “Take your useless blood and your pointless seed and get out of my house.”
But Azazel was staring at the mark on my chest. He reached out reverently to touch it. My skin heated beneath his fingers, and the mark grew darker.
I wanted to say something, anything, but my mouth was the Sahara, and my heart was beating in my throat.
“Fucking get out!” Annabeth screamed.
Azazel didn’t even flinch. He wrapped his arm around my waist and steered me from the room. We made it to the foyer before the specter, Jasper, blocked our path.
“We had a deal.” He glared at me. “We. Had. A. Deal.”
Shit. The necklace. I pulled out of Azazel’s embrace. “I have to do something.” Before he could stop me, I ran back upstairs and into the bitch’s room.
She turned to me in surprise, and I grabbed hold of the amulet around her neck and tugged hard.
Her scream of shock was accompanied by a crack like lightning. The chain broke and fell to the ground. The house shook in its foundations, and then laughter filled the air. Cruel and malevolent.
Annabeth stared at me in horror. “What have you done? You stupid, stupid—” Her head twisted to the side with a sharp crack. And then she crumpled to the ground.
“I’m hungry, demon,” Jasper said. “Hurry and leave before I forget your aid.”
Oh, fuck. Oh, fucking hell. I turned and ran.
* * *
Azazel barely made it off Rue Mort before needing to be supported by Nox and me. He was weak, hurt. She’d had him for almost two hours with all those torture devices. How many more wounds did he have?
Nox had thrown his jacket over Azazel to hide his fucked-up state, but even then, we caught a few odd looks from human passersby.
“So wasted,” Nox said loudly, and garnered a few knowing glances.
It hit me that they didn’t notice his horns. Funny the shit the human mind would gloss over.
“What happened?” Azazel asked. “What was that sound like lightning?”
I filled him in on the specter, and we made our way down the regular street. The fog was gone, the air was crisp and clear, and so was my head. Shitting hell, what had I just done?
“I think I might have fucked up.” I bit the insides of my cheeks.
“It doesn’t matter,” Azazel said.
I looked across at him. “You’re an idiot, you know that? Why would you let her … Urgh.” The image of her on top of him, using him, made me want to resurrect the bitch and kill her myself. “Nothing is worth that.”
“Your life is.” He was silent for a long beat. “Why didn’t you tell me about the mark?” he asked softly.
“I was scared. I didn’t know you. I wasn’t ready.” So many reasons that didn’t seem to matter any longer. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t bind to you. It’s too dangerous.” He said it flatly.
My heart sank. A few days ago, this news would have been a relief, but now it felt like he was leaving the dance before we’d had a chance to tango. But he was right. This was about Lilith. My being bound to him would put a spotlight on me, and without the protection charm, I was toast. It was logic. A logic I should have considered weeks ago, but it hadn’t occurred to me.
But now, when I wanted a connection with this enigmatic Dominus who made me feel safe and off-kilter all at the same time, the knowledge that I couldn’t carved a hollow pit inside me.
I nodded and caught his eyes to let him know I understood, but there was conflict raging across his chiseled face. Longing and fear and something indecipherable. I wanted to ask him what it was.
But with Nox here, it wasn’t possible for us to speak freely. He’d already heard too much and probably drawn some pretty accurate conclusions about what had taken place in the house.
We took a few more steps, and Azazel sucked in a sharp breath.
There was an underground station up ahead, but Azazel needed to get home now.
I slowed my pace, forcing us to a standstill. “Nox, can you take Azazel back to the Dominus quarters.”
“No,” Azazel said. “I can fly fine.”
“No, you can’t.” I gave him my sternest look. “Nox will take you back and then come pick me up from Lumiers.” I looked to Nox for confirmation. “I have a meeting with Uri, I can take the train there.”
“No problem,” Nox said.
Azazel looked torn, but he wasn’t a fool. He knew he needed the assist. He nodded. “Fine. We can talk when you get back.” His gaze was intense. “We need to talk.”
I wanted to hug him, to bury my face in the crook of his shoulder and sniff him, but instead, I slipped out from under his arm and allowed Nox to take the weight.
“I’ll see you soon.”
“Soon,” he promised.
* * *
The platform trembled, signaling the arrival of the train just as my comm beeped. It was a voicemail message forwarded from my mobile phone. The phone I rarely used now that I had the comm, but Conah had diverted calls to my comm. It was depressing how few people actually contacted me, though. Conah had dealt with Soul Savers, terminating my employment with them, but no one had contacted me. Heh, I guess I hadn’t been as popular as I’d thought.
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