Owl and the City of Angels

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Owl and the City of Angels Page 15

by Kristi Charish


  “And you brought me here dressed like this? And you think I’m reckless!?” Another rush hit me, and I balanced on Rynn.

  “I swear, if I had known Artemis had gone this far—”

  A pair of girls riveted their eyes towards Rynn as the name Artemis left his lips. They giggled . . . and began to whisper . . . creepy, like epic creepy . . . except it might be kind of cool to meet Artemis . . . wasn’t that Rynn’s cousin?

  I pressed my hand against my forehead. OK, Owl, get control over it, anything stupid you start to think is probably that drug . . .

  Two servers walked by holding a plate of the long-stemmed glasses. They exchanged a glance as they passed by Rynn and me, setting off towards a side hallway I hadn’t noticed before. They didn’t seem to be affected by the incense. Had to be supernaturals . . . not nymphs or incubi . . . something worse? I shivered—I’d have to describe them to Nadya later and see what she thought.

  “Here there be monsters,” I whispered.

  Rynn glanced down at me—he actually looked worried now. “Alix—I’m sorry, this was a bad call. I didn’t think Artemis would be this ­idiotic—” He touched the side of my face and made me look at him again. My head started to clear . . .

  A woman, maybe a year or two younger than me, with cascading, brown highlighted hair and even worse balance in stilettos, fell towards me.

  Rynn caught her instead, though he didn’t look happy about it. He searched around the room again, more intensely scanning the upper floor as he tried to stand the woman up.

  The woman smiled at Rynn. “You kind of look like him,” the woman said in a breathy bedroom voice that even through my haze sounded overboard.

  For his part, Rynn tried to push the girl back up, but with a laugh she leaned in. “I’m Violet,” she said, and ran her finger along Rynn’s arm, shifting her expression from intoxicated to alert and coy. “Have you seen him yet? I’ve been trying to find him all night,” she said, her fingernails, fake and painted a shade of purple that had to be after her namesake, dug into Rynn’s sleeve.

  There was something wrong with this picture . . . I just couldn’t remember what . . .

  The girl glanced over and reached for me.

  Shit—

  I tried jumping back out of range, but all my motor skills weren’t at my disposal . . . well, that, and let’s face it, heels are death for running.

  Her fingers brushed the skin on my arm before she leaned herself back into Rynn, where she focused her attention. Well, as focused as she could be through half-lidded eyes.

  The euphoria pushed its way through my defenses, flooding all my senses.

  Come on, Owl, get a grip . . .

  I closed my eyes and tried to force out the noise, but there was no escape. When I opened my eyes, the deluge sent a rush of pleasure down my spine.

  I looked back to where Rynn should be. He was gone. “Rynn?” I yelled, and had to grab the wall to steady myself as another rush hit me.

  OK, this train was derailing fast . . .

  “Alix!” I heard him scream. I found him a few feet away, trying to peel off Violet. He screamed for me again . . . there were too many people to reach him in time . . . I thought I saw his eyes turn blue, but that had to be a mistake. Rynn’s eyes were gray—

  I shook my head as my brain fought for control. Rynn, I had to get back to Rynn . . . I took a step towards him but stumbled. It was as if the floor reached out and pulled me down. I fell on my knees—hard. I knew it, my brain knew it—I just didn’t feel it.

  More people moved around me. I stared at my hands . . . were they . . . gold? No, it was something reflecting off the ceiling. I glanced up at the gold bowl hanging above me, a sacrificial bowl, circa Alexander the Great. Son of a bitch . . . one just went up for auction a few months ago, was that it? I tried to focus in on it better, but it kept rippling in and out of detail. Had to be the lights . . . it couldn’t hurt to check out the place though. Rynn’s cousin might even have a decent art collection; he was an incubus, after all. Must have collected something good over the past couple hundred years—or however long incubi lived . . .

  “Alix!”

  Rynn’s voice cut through the fog and euphoria this time. I blinked, trying to clear my eyes, and looked up. There was no ancient gold dish, only a beat-up chandelier. Jesus Christ, I needed to get the hell out of here before I did something stupid.

  “Don’t move. Stay there,” Rynn yelled, but he was no longer trying to just untangle himself from Violet. More people had closed in around him. He wouldn’t make it through in time.

  Every ounce of my brain not high on the damn incense was desperate to escape while it still could.

  “Sorry, but I need to get the hell out of here,” I said, though I wasn’t sure if I said it loud enough for Rynn to hear me.

  I pushed myself back up to standing. Now where the hell was that exit?

  My eyes landed on a hallway not too far away from me. Had it been there before? I steadied myself against the wall, the textured wall­paper prickling against my hand like pins, repulsing me back towards the room.

  I frowned. To hell with that. Ignoring the sensation, I made my way towards the empty hall.

  “Alix!” Rynn yelled. I didn’t even look over my shoulder. I’d worry about Rynn once I was out of this room—once my head was clear . . .

  I made it to the hallway and reached my hand out towards the arch. Something like a pool rippled underneath my fingers—not entirely real. I faltered, and the last bit of my thoughts not wrapped up in the incense reared its head. You need out.

  I took a deep breath and stepped through.

  Silence flooded over me.

  Oh my God . . . I could breathe again. I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall as the sensation left me. I’d just catch my breath, then find Rynn . . .

  “I’m surprised you made it past the wallpaper. Most people can’t stand the texture. Feels sharp against the fingers, or so I’ve been told,” a man said beside me, his voice carrying an accent I recognized—like Rynn’s, though this voice was deeper and rougher. I opened my eyes and spun around as fast as my body was willing.

  Artemis Bast leaned against the wall beside me. The resemblance to Rynn was uncanny, as far as facial features went—even the same cropped blond hair, but the comparison ended there. The leather pants, tattoos, gold-paint-splattered burnout T-shirt, a single gold stud earring, not to mention his expression and the way he stood—everything would have been foreign on Rynn. And green eyes. Artemis had green eyes instead of Rynn’s gray/blue.

  He didn’t smile or come any closer, just watched me as he took a swig from a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. The way he watched me—it was almost cruel. Attractive—I’d be an idiot and a liar if I said he wasn’t something to look at—but make no mistake about it, underneath the surface was thinly masked cruelty.

  I had to admit though, if someone asked me what an incubus looked like, I’d point out this guy over Rynn any day of the week.

  Here there be monsters.

  I stepped out of Artemis’s range, but, not altogether having my senses back, I tripped on my heel. The wall caught me, which was a damn good thing, because Artemis sure as hell didn’t make any move to help.

  I nodded at the ballroom. “So, is that what has-been rock stars do for kicks out here? No offense, but it seems kind of easy.” Yup. That’s me. When faced with unknown supernaturals, my go-to is to start throwing insults. Good to see I hadn’t lost my form or touch, by the way Artemis glared.

  Nothing like getting insulted by someone who shouldn’t have had the mental capacity to string them together, and trust me, with the leftover head rush, I shouldn’t have had the capacity . . .

  He tilted his head to the side, giving me a critical once-over. “Interesting,” he said, glancing back towards the party. “They usually don’t make it this far�
�and the ones that do are . . .” He paused, as if searching for the phrase he wanted to use.

  I swallowed and, using the wall for balance, edged back another few steps. I did not like how Artemis was watching me. “Let me guess. Interesting?”

  Artemis arched an eyebrow, again reminding me of Rynn. “More interesting than my cousin’s tastes usually run, and let’s leave it at that, shall we?” Artemis took a step towards me, the hint of a frown touching his face.

  What I wouldn’t give for an exit. I could run, but where? Back into kaleidoscope fun land? No thanks. I settled for backing up another few steps, still using the wall as my prop. I used the opportunity to check out the ballroom. It looked like I was staring through a pool of water, where everything was unnaturally warped on the other side.

  Great, more supernatural bullshit magic.

  Clear the hell up, brain, so we can get us out of this mess.

  Artemis followed me, like a cat or snake moving in on prey. “Now, who might you be, and what on earth are you doing with my cousin? Better yet, you can start with what the hell he’s after.”

  “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” I said.

  I’d almost have called Artemis’s expression a smile if not for the fact that the sentiment didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. “Because I’m asking you. And you can damn well do better than that.”

  Artemis was regarding me now with more interest than I was comfortable with.

  “You know, I’m pretty sure I can make you tell me,” he said. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ll be more than happy to tell me every secret you’ve ever had. What do you think about that?”

  I swore as he closed in and his eyes flashed green.

  I shut mine tight before he could pull off the incubus bullshit.

  There’s nothing I hate more then being backed into a corner by supernaturals. You could say it’s a sore spot with me . . .

  What was it Rynn had said? Artemis was easier to handle when he was off his game? Well, let’s throw him off his game then, shall we?

  I stopped backing up, crossed my arms, and picked a classic Pink Floyd poster on the wall behind him to stare at. “How bout this, Artemis? You lay off the incubus bullshit, and I won’t kick you in the sweet spot? Then maybe we can talk.” I kept my eyes fixated on the rainbow triangle—and no, the irony didn’t escape me.

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Artemis arch an eyebrow, but no flashes of green. “Sweet spot—now where would that be exactly?” he said.

  I smiled. I love it when the bad guys ask that.

  A hand clamped down on my shoulder. “Artemis, you really don’t want to know the answer to that one, and if you don’t believe me, there’s a number of vampires who can vouch for it,” Rynn said.

  I let out the breath I’d been holding. I wasn’t sure I’d have been able to do any damage in this state.

  Artemis looked from me to Rynn and smiled. “I’ll take your word for it then,” he said, then added, “what, cousin, no phone call?”

  Rynn smiled back. “You know me. I prefer to drop in. More entertaining that way.”

  Artemis laughed, as if amused, and glanced down the hallway. “Come on, then—you can chastise me in my office, since that’s what you like to do. If you haven’t noticed, I have a party to get back to.” He turned his back on us and headed down the hallway.

  I caught Rynn’s arm as he started to follow. “You couldn’t have warned me about him?” I said under my breath.

  “I heard that,” Artemis sang out from up ahead.

  Rynn frowned but didn’t look at me—his eyes were focused on ­Artemis’s back. “I told you we didn’t part on good terms,” he whispered.

  “Yeah, bad terms I got—not the blood feud part.”

  Rynn’s jaw tightened. “We don’t have a blood feud—”

  I still wasn’t budging. “Not from where I was standing two minutes ago.”

  “I heard that too,” Artemis yelled from up ahead. “You might want to stop whispering, since it’s serving you no fucking purpose.”

  This time Rynn did look at me. “Alix, trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

  “No offense, but all evidence tonight would point to the exact ­opposite—”

  “Oh come on, you two,” Artemis yelled from somewhere down the hall. “It can wait till later. I’m getting bored holding the door open.”

  Rynn looked at me, pleading . . . Damn it. I swore and reminded myself that according to Rynn, Artemis held the keys to getting me into Daphne’s mansion and halfway to clearing my name. Asshole incubus, or IAA and homicidal Naga . . .

  You know, it hasn’t escaped my attention that the choices I’ve been forced to make lately really suck.

  “I so need a new job—and next time, I arrange my own outfit,” I said. “Something with actual pockets.”

  We followed Artemis into his office.

  It was less opulent than the rest of the mansion—more business, less rocker—with a dozen or so platinum and gold records and a few concert posters decorating the walls. At the back was a large oak desk on which Artemis placed two tumblers. He slid the glasses across the desk towards me and Rynn, then sat in the leather chair.

  He held up his bottle of Jack Daniel’s. I stole a quick glance at Rynn, but he didn’t give me a hint either way. I nodded; not that whiskey was my drink of choice, but I would take what I could get at this point.

  Artemis poured and slid the glasses towards us. He gave me a slow once-over before turning his full attention on Rynn. “Rynn,” he said, “what have I done to deserve your illustrious company this time?”

  “I’m calling in one of the many favors you owe me.”

  Artemis’s smile still didn’t drop, but instead of acknowledging Rynn, he turned his attention on me. “Sorry, dear, but typical Rynn here never bothered introducing us.”

  I shook my head to clear the shock. “Charity,” I said, using one of my more benign aliases.

  The corner of Artemis’s mouth quirked up. “Charity,” he said, rolling the word over, as if testing it for validity. “Interesting . . . choice.”

  Rynn’s arm went around my shoulder again, something I wasn’t used to from him—not in public, anyways. I don’t think he’d ever shown anything close to territorial male behavior. I didn’t count his gripe with Carpe, because Rynn didn’t like elves period.

  Artemis continued sizing me up, then held up the bottle. “Bottoms up,” he said, and took a swig. I noted Rynn picked up his glass, so I followed suit.

  “Now what the hell do you want? And please explain, dear cousin, why you get to parade your human conquests around while I have mine—”

  Rynn snapped at Artemis in supernatural—a warning, from the tone, but Artemis interrupted Rynn before he could finish, rolling his eyes. “Oh for God’s sake, will you please speak English? If not for my ears, then at least for the girl’s. Oh come on—don’t look at me like that, the rules hardly apply to her anymore. She’s had enough bloody vampire pheromones to drown a cow in. Though you don’t look like a cow, dear,” he said, holding up the bottle towards me. “You’re quite fetching, it’s really just a figure of speech.”

  “You know the rules, Artemis, which is why I can’t fathom what the hell you’re doing—”

  “Oh come off it—I’m not breaking any rules. Every last one of them is here of their own free will, and they come and go as they please. I’m not keeping them here.” The corner of Artemis’s mouth twitched up. “And you’re one to talk,” he said, pointing at me with the bottle again. “The only ones who work their way past my party veils are the vampire junkies, and I never let them through the front door, which, let’s not mince words here—she’s had her fair share of vampires—”

  “Whoa, wait a minute—so not a vampire pheromone junkie here,” I said.

  Artemis faced me. “Yet you
know what I’m talking about—­interesting.” His eyes widened in mock surprise as he turned back to Rynn. “By the way, what you’re doing dragging her around with you is what the rest of us call slumming it. You’re welcome for the life lesson—”

  “Hey, asshole, right here,” I said, waving my hand.

  “Never mind, dear. I withdraw the remark. Now what is this favor you so desperately need, cousin?” He took another swig from the bottle. “And if you’re here, it’s desperate, so don’t bother denying it.”

  “I need to get into Daphne Sylph’s mansion,” I said.

  Artemis snorted. “You don’t exactly come across as the Hollywood fan type, and you do realize you’re in the wrong house—”

  “Yeah, no shit. But Rynn here seems to think you can get me in, and apparently you owe him a favor, so . . . ?” I held up my hands. “Deal or no, incubus?”

  He laughed. “Oh now you’re fun. What did you say your name was again? Charity?”

  The cousins stared each other down, but whereas Rynn looked like he wanted to punch Artemis, Artemis was examining the situation, his green eyes dancing between me and Rynn.

  Artemis leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “What the hell has Daphne done to piss you off this time?”

  Rynn shrugged. “Nothing of consequence—more importantly, none of your business.” I didn’t miss the warning, so there was no way Artemis could have.

  “You know what Daphne will do if you get within a mile of her place?”

  “Which is why I’m asking for your help.”

  Artemis took another swig of the Jack Daniel’s while he considered Rynn’s proposal. “So I take the girl into Daphne’s and that’s it? We’re square?”

  “Clean slate,” Rynn said through clenched teeth.

  “Well, then how can I possibly refuse?” Artemis’s green eyes turned back on me. “But just her, not you.”

  “The deal is for both of us.”

 

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