“You’re lucky this is some good shit,” I tell my best friend, popping the cap on the bottle.
He rises his own in a sarcastic salute. “I know what you’re like when pulled away from a hunt. Any kind of hunt.” His golden eyes roll upward.
“We both know that when it comes to that type of hunt, we’re both on the same level of obsessed.” I raise the bottle to my lips.
“Hmm.”
Pausing, I stare at him out of the corner of my eye. What the hell does hmm mean?
Cyake ignores me, looking at something on his phone before slipping it in his pocket. “Any sign of those fuckers? Dyletri is starting to get on my last nerve.”
He has been in a mood, lately. Not going to lie. I think fourteen millennia of sexual frustration has finally caught up to him. “Not yet, but you know I’ll land on them eventually. It’s only a matter of time.”
Stopping a few feet away from me, Cy materializes his favorite stuffed chair from his room. Energy shifts through the air behind me, and I don’t need to look to know he just materialized another for me. He sits and motions for me to do the same.
Aw, what the hell? I’ve been at it for almost a week straight. Might as well.
Cy leans back, getting nice and comfortable. “Fucking sucks you have to take the time away from your search for Kain to do this, though.”
As always, the sheer mention of his name makes my blood boil. If Enteax and Lisrn weren’t so dangerous, if only their reappearance after such a long time didn’t herald a much larger problem, I wouldn’t dare stop in my search for Kain. “Let’s not discuss that nephew of yours unless you’re ready to hear me go on about how badly I want to kill him.” There’s no disguising the contained rage in my tone.
Staring at me out of the corner of his eye, Cyake finishes off his drink. A new, full bottle is in his hand instantly. “But you promised not to kill him. The deal is you shove him in Hell with his father.”
A deal I regret making every single day of my life.
If only we had never found out Kain’s parentage. If only Cyake and his brothers had never realized that the same male I seek to destroy is Lucifer’s long lost son. “You know, I sometimes think you care for Nythi—”
“Don’t go there, you know I fucking do—”
“Yet the male that captured her, abused her, traumatized, destroyed, and condemned her to a shadow of an existence means more to you.” Maybe the resentment I feel isn’t fair, especially considering Cyake and his brothers are family, but I feel it.
I’m fucking choking on it.
“He’s my fucking nephew, Ian!” Frustrated, Cyake runs a hand through his hair. “Lucifer lost everything, man. Everything—”
“Most of us have—”
Again, he interrupts me, jabbing a finger in my direction. “You truly haven’t lost shit yet. Not like us, Ian. You don’t know.”
Coming from anyone else, that comment would enrage me, but I know his story.
His entire family’s story.
As such, I know he isn’t lying.
My losses will come for me one day, but aside from my father, they haven’t been so disastrous yet.
Well, not counting the life my sister has lived because of one male.
“Lucifer lost his wife, his son, and his daughter all at once. His wife and daughter are stuck down in Hell, and he himself is stuck inside that castle there, unable to leave. He hasn’t laid eyes on his family in eons. If you kill his son, his soul will end up in there, yes, but Lucifer will never see him, either. Throwing Kain into the castle is the only merciful thing I’m asking of you.”
“He’s still chasing Nythi,” I grind out.
“You can’t kill him without killing her on two ends, anyway, you fucking genius!”
Another fact that makes me burn with the need for vengeance. “After what he did to her, what right does he have?”
“I don’t know, man. I don’t know. You forget you’re talking about a male I haven’t seen since he was five-summers old. I can’t even begin to tell you what’s going through Kain’s mind. The point is, if you lock him in the castle with his father, Nythi’s stalker problem is eradicated. Well, in her opinion and yours. Fieren, or not, I still think throwing her R’mann in there is retarded, but hey. What the fuck do I know, right?”
I hate when he rambles and makes sense at the same time. “Is that all you came here to discuss? Cause if so, I’m done here.” I move to stand.
A fresh bottle appears in my hand. “Sit down. Relax. I’ll drop it, but before I do, I think I need to remind you once again that killing Kain means every single vampire dies. That includes your sister. That’s what happens if you kill the first ever vamp. Plus. Killing her R’mann also triggers her death. Following my logic here? It’s a double-whammy. She doesn’t come back from that. Not to mention the whole, ‘you’ll be committing genocide’ part.”
You know, there are many times where this fucker annoys me beyond belief. Yeah, he’s my best friend, but I’m constantly wondering why the fuck I put up with him. “You done?”
“Fine. Yes I am.”
I glare at him.
He at least has the decency to look sheepish under my stare. “You’ve seriously been at it non-stop for a week. Even Nythi was worried.”
Ah. Now this visit makes more sense. “Oh good. She talked you into it. I was starting to think you’d become a needy pussy—”
Throwing his head back, he laughs. “Fuck you.”
“—and I’m just saying. We’ve discussed this. This marriage isn’t going to work if you suffocate me, bro. It ain’t a good look.”
He throws his empty bottle at me; I tilt my head as it flies over my shoulder.
“Honestly, you dick. You haven’t stopped all week.”
He’s scrutinizing me. The stained crystal dome above us fractures the light, and in it his eyes glow eerily.
Is he trying to glimpse into my future?
My back tightens with dread. It’s an engrained reaction. Who could ever forget their best friend turning into the cold monster known as Fate and condemning them to die one day?
“Ismini is cool people,” I say with a shrug.
Cy chuckles and stares down at the bottle in his hand. “Yeah. And she has to die. Makes me question Nylicia all over again.”
“You never need much of an excuse to feel that way.”
His eyes narrow but he doesn’t look up. “I can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t going to be as simple as Ismini dying and Dimithinia returning.”
“A feeling? Or have you seen something?” If he’s extending his powers like that again . . .
It’s Cyake’s turn to look offended. “Are you crazy? I stick to the three-second rule. No matter what. You of all beings should know I’ve learned my lesson. I haven’t see anything. Just a feeling I can’t shake.”
I down the aeleth in a single shot. I’ve had my own feeling I can’t shake the last few days. “Dyletri’s been acting weird, too.”
Cy nods. “We’ve all noticed it. All. He wants to eat Ismini alive and he thinks he’s hiding it, but . . .” Eyebrows raised, he smiles at me. “And on top of that, we have to deal with Zeniel and Evesse eye-fucking each other and arguing.”
Laughing, I swipe my hair behind my ear.
“Speaking of getting laid—” Cyake looks around the hundred-foot, circular chamber—“you’ve been in here a week, bro. I know you haven’t gotten some.”
“Thank you for being so attuned to that. That isn’t disturbing. At all.”
He throws his hands up. “I’m just saying. Remember the last time you tried this abstaining shit? You started going rabid within days.”
“No I fucking didn’t.”
“You did!” Cyake nods, golden eyes wide, looking more like a child than a sixteen-millennia-old, primordial god. Then, out of nowhere, his eyes narrow in distaste. “You were just such a nasty motherfucker. I still blame Zen for that, by the way.”
I close my eyes
and take a deep breath. “You’ve come to annoy me.”
“I’ve come to discuss important matters with you.”
“Then out with it, bro.”
Cyake stares at me as if I’m crazy. “That is the important issue. Take a break. Let’s head out.”
I stare at him suspiciously. “Is this what I get for ignoring you for a week?”
Chuckling, he gives me the finger. “Stop being a pain in the ass and take this seriously. You’re acting like this is life or death.”
Not life or death, or at least I hope. But I’m not ready to tell anyone my suspicion yet.
I have to be one-hundred percent sure before I announce that the predator has become the prey.
That presence I’ve felt following me from time to time the last few days has been nothing more than a faint whisper. I’ve sensed it maybe a total of three times, like a ghost of a touch.
“You know what? Fine.” Maybe he’s right. Maybe I feel off because I haven’t gotten laid. Either way, I know him. He won’t stop hounding me until I assuage his worries. “Let’s go out. Then you’ll finally stop bitching.”
“Finally. I was starting to wonder how annoying I was going to have to get.” Cyake stands at the same time I do.
“Hah. Hah. Go fuck yourself.”
“No thank you. I, like you, have volunteers lined up to take care of that.” Walking up to me, he claps my shoulder. “What do you say about heading over to Sphynx?”
“The nymph bar?” I sigh dramatically. “Alright. Fine. But only because you’re being a pushy bitch about it.”
Smiling, Cyake slaps me in the back. “My man. Welcome back.”
“I was only gone a week, Cy.”
“Whatever. Stop bitching and let’s go make some nymphs really fucking happy tonight.”
Chapter 2
The next day
– Earth, Astoria, Queens, NY (USA)
SOLERIA
“L isten, I understand you’re under a lot of stress.”
Her tone isn’t condescending, I remind myself. Rein in the attitude, Sol. Kind of hard to do when one’s stress levels are past critical.
I wave at the cook as he exits the kitchen on his way out the door.
Another short day. Not that any of my employees are complaining. Both my waitresses have gone missing and my kitchen staff is still being paid for the full day.
It isn’t their fault that their boss is falling apart about her missing waitresses.
AKA: my best friends.
Turning to face the counter again, I take in the petite, gorgeous redhead sitting on the stool. In a dark pant suit, with her hair in a large, tight bun, the detective studies me with her gray-green, catlike eyes. “Just run it by me again.”
“With all due respect,” I tell her. “It sounds to me like you’ve already made up your mind about my missing friends.”
Detective Katya Korzikova—as her business card says—taps her pen against her open notepad. “I didn’t say that. But they both do have a record of running away.”
At least she’s nice enough to look slightly embarrassed at the comment.
Regardless, I feel emotion rising in my chest. The frustration starts to suffocate me. How do I explain to her that Ismini and Evesse wouldn’t run away like that? Fuck what they did in the past.
Evesse escaped her last abusive foster home. One in a long line of many.
Ismini escaped her adoptive parents and their constant psychological abuse.
How do I get this detective to understand that they’re so much more than a couple of rebellious, teenaged fuck-ups? My hand tightens around the cloth I’m holding as my eyes water.
Detective Korzikova’s eyes soften. “They’re your friends, too. Aren’t they?”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
“Is that why you once broke state law by having two underaged girls working full time?”
Whatever softening I felt towards her disappears in an instant. “They didn’t work full time then. Before they were eighteen, I had them working part-time.” So what if I sound like I’m ready to snap at her? She asked for it with her assumption.
She blinks in confusion and hurries to write something down in her notepad. “They didn’t? Then how did they afford the studio rent costs in this neighborhood?”
I’m grinding my teeth. God help me. “I pay them a high enough hourly wage to ensure they’re okay. Always have.”
More notes scribbled. “Ms. De Leon, I can’t tell if you’re running a restaurant or a charity to save young girls here.”
My lips fall open at the nerve. I knew the first time I met her that she’s a suspicious, too-forward cop. But, man, is she serious? “I don’t think it’s any of your business how I run my business, as long as I’m not breaking the law—”
Her head shoots up, expression apologetic. “Oh, no. I didn’t mean it in an unkind way.”
I shrug one shoulder. “Doesn’t matter. You’ve made it more than clear you aren’t taking their disappearances seriously.”
It’d be a lot easier to stay mad at her if she wasn’t giving me such a sheepish smile. “We are. We’re following the time table. But I can’t ask my captain to allocate more resources to scouring the city looking for two eighteen-year-old girls that share a history of running away.” Her smile turns sad. “I’m sorry. Not without more at least.”
“They disappeared within a week of each other. How can that not count as ‘more’?” I glare at her with all the resentment I feel.
“I promise we’re on the lookout. And I know this can be frustrating, but I need you to call me if you think of anything else or hear anything.” Detective Korzikova reaches into her breast pocket for a business card and places it on the counter.
I just stare at it, feeling numb inside. It’s not like I lost the first one she gave me.
The detective stands. “Please. Call me if anything else comes up,” she says softly, and I pick up on a hint of an accent. Russian maybe? Would make sense considering her name and perfect doll-like looks.
She gives me another sad smile and with that she’s gone, walking out into the humid air.
I watch her through the glass as she slips on her sunglasses and heads towards a black car parked down the street.
By the time she gets into the vehicle, I’m already turning away. Ten minutes later, I’ve finished closing up the place and I’m rushing home.
The five minutes it takes me to cross the street and walk up 19th Street seem to take me an eternity. It’s one-thirty and the sun beats down on me as I jog up the block.
My neighbor steps out of the house next to mine. I wave at her and jog up the short flight of white steps leading up to my door.
Usually, the emptiness of my home doesn’t bother me. All the furniture and decorations have remained the same since my mother died. The memories on the walls. It’s always given me comfort.
Today, as I allow myself to feel the odd desolation of my life, they can’t comfort me.
Throwing my purse on the half-moon side table by the door, I rush up the stairs to my bedroom.
I had left the curtains open. When I walk in, the entire room is bathed in sunlight.
Once again, I ignore all my surroundings. My eyes are locked on the desk on the other side. The one with the map and pendulum still laying on it.
I make a beeline for the desk and lean my hands on it.
A week of this. To the point that the constant drain of mental energy has left me weepy and lethargic. One locator spell after the other.
No trace of the girls.
No. Instead I keep brushing up against something else. Something my gut tells me is important.
Maybe my ticket to finding the girls?
Or maybe I’m grasping at straws.
But I have to try something.
Sitting down, I take a deep, centering breath and attempt to push all my worried thoughts out of my mind. Once I feel calmer, I reach for the pendulum.
Closing my ey
es, I focus on the girls. Only the girls.
No words leave my lips. None are needed. Mama taught me that true magic doesn’t need the ritual. It’s all about intent. Willpower. Focus.
I hold the pendulum over the map, feeling it beginning to respond. Just as it did the previous three times I tried this, it begins swinging wildly.
Even as I feel the energy on the other side it’s trying to connect to.
What is this?
The pendulum swings harder.
What are you?
My brow furrows.
No. The girls. Think of the girls.
Yet the more I focus on them, the harder I’m pulled in the direction of that force.
Who are you? Are you the one that took them? I clench my jaw, struggling to keep my attention on both the girls and what this force is. The pendulum swings harder and harder. Even without opening my eyes, I can tell it’s all over the map, moving in all directions.
“Come on,” I whisper, the vein on the side of my temple throbbing. “I can feel you. What are you?” A bead of sweat rolls down my face. For a second, the pendulum starts to slow down and I feel the connection slipping . . .
“No,” I groan, bringing the girls front and center in my mind. Whatever this is, it’s connected to them. Focusing on them is the only way to touch this force.
The pendulum picks up speed again, even faster than before. I cry out as what feels like a hit of electricity shoots through me, slicing right across my heart.
Suddenly, the pendulum swings so hard it goes flying right out of my hands.
The sound of glass cracking makes my eyes fly open.
Disoriented, I look around my room. My heart’s still pounding at full speed. Shaking, I place a hand to my chest, trying to catch my breath.
What the fuck was that?
I look to my left, in the direction the pendulum flew.
The mirrored-door of my closet is cracked in the middle. Causing that crack? The pendulum, its quartz end embedded right inside it.
“Fuck.” Still panting, I stand and head towards it. It only takes two tugs for me to realize it’s in there good and tight.
I’m going to need help getting it out of there.
“Ughhhh.” The world spins around me. I press the heels of my hands to my eyes, uncaring if I smudge my eyeliner. Desperation and heartache eat at me.
Ryze Series: Books 1 & 2 Page 63
