by Trina M. Lee
Or was it? “Does it have anything to do with Juliet?” I asked, afraid of the answer.
Gabriel shrugged and turned back to the dishwasher. “I don’t know.”
“Well, what else did you see?” I demanded. “Why would you say something like that?”
“I see things in small bursts,” Gabriel replied. “Visions really. I don’t get the whole story.”
“For Christ’s sake, Alexa!” Arys exploded. He came off the couch in a rage. “Can’t you leave anything alone? You nitpick everything, and all it does is make shit worse.”
I rounded on him, ready to let him have it. “Didn’t you hear what he said? Don’t you care? This is shit we need to know, Arys.”
“Do we really?” he countered, hands flung out in exasperation. “Do we really need to know this right now when we have other things to focus on? Such as getting our wolf back.”
As his temper flared, mine did as well, a mirror of his ire. Shaz’s absence felt vast, like a wasteland that grew between us, dragging us further apart as the conflict sought to divide and conquer. I’d always known deep down what Shaz was to us. I felt it now in the worst way.
“We’ll get him back,” I said, needing to convince myself. “That doesn’t make Gabriel’s vision any less serious.”
Arys ran a hand through his hair before clenching a fistful in frustration. Such a very Shaz thing for him to do. His aura screamed with an inner agony I could never truly understand.
“I suffered through decade after decade pining for you, knowing I would kill you. Now you want me to face each night wondering if it will be the one that finally breaks us.” A tremor shook Arys’s voice. “That is not the reality I want for us, and you shouldn’t either. Can’t existing one night at a time be enough?”
Before I could form a reply, he spun on a heel and stalked from the room. A moment later the slam of the front door followed.
I stared into the darkened foyer, wishing I could turn back time and keep my big mouth shut.
Because he’d proven to be a pretty good kid overall, Gabriel didn’t pause in his task. The clink of dishes was the only sound.
“Let me know when Briggs rises,” I instructed and followed Arys from the house.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Choosing luxury vinyl flooring for The Wicked Kiss had been a smart move. The damp-resistant coating made the cleanup go a lot faster. Dragging a mop around wasn’t the ideal way to spend the rest of the night, but with Shaz and Jez in lockup and Briggs between life and death, it was all I could do not to lose my mind and run amok through the city. So I mopped.
Justin did the same, while Arys paced along the perimeter. It had been a tense ride back from Shya’s house. My apology had been met with a mutter. I guess it was too late for sorry. I’d forced Gabriel to talk, and now we had to live with the consequences.
Every time I came to a pile of ash and dust, the seed of vengeance Winston had planted inside me grew. She’d lost a lot more people than I had, but still it picked at me that she’d had the audacity to try such a thing.
Winston likely expected me to shut the club down, to sit and ponder my next move in fear. That wasn’t going to happen. Business would resume as usual tomorrow night. I would be patient only as long as it took to organize a team to go in there and tear the place apart. Agent Winston wouldn’t be leaving this city alive.
As I cleaned, I stewed. I fixated on the events of the evening, replaying them over and over. No longer was I ready to fly into an irrational rage. I’d surpassed that stage. The fiery rage had given way to a slow but steady burn.
Perhaps killing Briggs had brought me to this place of calm, calculated rationale. Or maybe the killer within had taken over, plotting quietly, knowing that was the way to get things done. Either way, the FPA would soon find out that I would not be recruited, controlled, or threatened.
“Is this a bad time?”
That melodic tone had been imprinted in my mind. I knew I’d find Salem when I turned around. His presence caused my entire being to tingle.
Clad all in black, long jacket brushing his ankles, Salem exuded badass warrior. Striking. His long dark hair was streaked with gold. He still wore a ginger lock of Lilah’s hair braided tightly in with his own.
“A bad time for what?” I forced a smile, hoping it hid my unease at his presence.
Salem stood near the bar, pretty much the center point of the room. Despite being a good twenty feet away, I knew the distance didn’t make me safe. Salem might be an angel, but the darkness of his twin lurked inside him.
“Just a short visit. I won’t keep you long.” Enchanting gold eyes scanned the building, lingering on Justin and Arys before returning to me. “I’m here to speak with you about Shya.”
Oh. Fuck.
It took great effort to keep my face from moving, my eyes from showing the sudden fear that filled me.
Arys’s voice echoed in my mind. ‘Tell him nothing.’
No shit, I thought but didn’t fire it back at him. No need to add to the tension.
“What about him?” Light, casual, my tone was a lie, and we all knew it.
“Where is he?” Salem took slow, heavy steps toward me. “Or more specifically, where is the stone you trapped him in?”
Ah, so he’d heard about that. Of course he had.
There was a slight accent to his words, subtle but enough to indicate he didn’t frequently speak English. I’d been too awestruck by him during our last meeting to notice. The accent was unidentifiable, a language never spoken by human tongue.
“I don’t know. I don’t have it.” I spoke the truth. Lying to an angel would be stupid and futile. I had to pick my responses carefully.
Salem’s silent assessment unnerved me. The hard angles of his chiseled features made him a sinister beauty. So flawless and divine, yet also a hardened warrior tied to a demon queen. I would forever be awestruck in Salem’s presence.
“Who does?” His question was a command. Such power in his voice.
The name of the angel who had Shya’s stone was on the tip of my tongue. I almost choked on it in my efforts to keep it inside. “Willow took the stone. He gave it away. I don’t know where it is.” Not a word was a lie, although there had been an omission. I wished Willow had never told me the name of the friend he’d entrusted to keep the stone.
“You gave it to Willow?” Salem mulled this over, his expression sour. “Now that poses somewhat of a problem. I need that stone.”
“Why?” Arys demanded the angel’s attention with that one word. “Why does it matter who has it?”
The atmosphere pulsed with a rolling energy that rattled my teeth. Like a bass beat that thumps inside you, it shook my brain and caused my spine to throb. Salem could obliterate us without lifting a finger. Arys’s confrontational attitude might get us all killed.
“You’ve done well,” Salem said. “I’ll admit that I didn’t believe you could trap him. However, now that you have, he needs to be turned over to us. It’s vital that Shya be kept by the angels. It’s where he belongs.”
Arys wouldn’t be deterred by such a response. Arms crossed, he appraised Salem, unafraid in the face of certain annihilation. “Then why didn’t the angels trap him in the first place?”
Salem regarded Arys like he might an annoying insect in need of squishing. “There are rules we must follow. Order must be maintained. I’m not about to divulge those things to you. What matters is that Shya has been secured, and we would like the stone he’s trapped in to be in our possession.” Even though I didn’t want to question a word that came out of the angel’s mouth, he was tripping my bullshit radar.
“We?” I questioned, cutting Arys off as he opened his mouth. “Or you, Salem? Is this about a personal vendetta?”
Shya was head over heels in love with Lilah after all. He worshipped her. Literally. Although many demons did. Shya had fought hard to win her over, to be considered worthy of ruling at her side. I couldn’t imagine Salem was ok with th
at. Although he had to be happy with Lilah’s refusal. She looked down on Shya, believing him to be beneath her.
Slow steps brought Salem closer. For just a moment his eyes seemed to flash Lilah’s fiery orange.
I held my ground but inside I quaked.
“Irrelevant. I want Shya’s stone. If Willow knows where it is, then I’ll have to pay him a visit.” The angel paused a few feet away, leaving me the illusion of personal space. “You do realize what will happen if he escapes that stone. He’ll come for you.”
Not exactly news. I held up my hand to show him the curse symbol scarred into my palm. “I know. I’ve seen him recently.”
“I see. How unfortunate. Even more reason why his stone should be in my care. I can keep him from escaping. He’ll never be able to harm you.” There was such promise in Salem’s calm delivery. But I knew him to be capable of going to a bad place if he didn’t get what he wanted.
“Either way, I’ll be sucked into that stone with him every full moon unless I find a way to break the curse. Giving the stone to you won’t keep me safe from him.” Should I be telling him this?
Salem was relentless. Although I sensed that he wanted to throttle me, he kept the cool, strategic warrior persona firmly in place. “Get me the stone, and I’ll help you break the curse.” So simple. So straight up. Or was it?
Gazing into his golden eyes, I saw a ruthless spark there, not so unlike the one I so often saw in Shya’s eyes. An angel might have a different agenda than a demon, but how different were his motives or his tactics? Especially seeing as he was bound to a demon. Salem couldn’t be trusted. Not really. I’d faced his twin flame, and she was a crazy bitch. Although, I’d worn that label often as well.
“Let me think about it,” I countered, hoping he would be reasonable. The last thing I wanted was to give him a reason to go off on us. We could never stand against him and survive.
Salem slid into a seat at the closest table. Hands clasped together, fingers laced, he regarded me with an icy stare that threatened to turn me to stone should I gape too long. Nodding toward the chair across from him, he waited, staring intently until I dropped the mop and sat down.
Across the room, Arys shifted from foot to foot. I shot him a warning look. This was no matter for him to handle. A dark flame was not the best person to handle a light flame clearly in a real mood.
“Seeing as you’ve trapped Shya, I assume you no longer have need of Falon.” Bam! Just like that Salem flipped the topic on its head, nailing me with that one.
So that was how he wanted to do this.
Careful now. There weren’t many ways I could approach this without it backfiring. “You assume wrong.” Inside I cringed while on the outside I sat there cool and unmoved. Did he know my insides were a trembling mess? “He’s proven himself to be quite useful. I’d like to keep him around.”
“By letting him bed you, you’ve let him get inside your head, which is exactly what he wants. Falon is a known traitor. He will make you sorry that you let him get so close.”
So thick was the air around Salem that I could scarce draw a breath. Yet the pressure in the building grew with every passing second. My head throbbed from his close proximity. The angel and demon types seemed to keep their power contained, undetectable, until they wanted it to be. Salem wanted it to be.
“He’s a means to an end,” I said. “Nothing more. However, I’d hate to have to replace him.” Flippant and cool, I met his intense gaze with as much courage as I could muster. I was scared shitless, but I’d be damned if I’d show it.
In my peripheral view, Arys made his way closer while keeping what he assumed to be a safe distance.
“So Falon is what? Your lover? Your pet? A servant, perhaps?” Salem’s smile was more of a grimace, like he simply didn’t do it much anymore. “Are you staking a claim to him?”
Was I?
“And if I am?” I asked, needing to know where we were headed with this. How much did Falon mean to Salem? And how far was I willing to go to keep Falon safe from this avenging angel?
Salem had me backed into the precise corner he wanted me in. And then like a cat with a mouse, he pounced. “I understand, succubus. He feeds your need. So I’ll be fair. Shya or Falon. Relinquish your hold on one of them. Or I take them both.”
I forced a laugh that betrayed my nervousness. “Not quite the friendly visit of last time, huh?”
He had me and he knew it. Though I sensed no malicious intent in Salem, his willingness to play dirty left me unsettled. “I apologize.” He bowed his head. “I mean you no ill will, Alexa. This is merely business I must attend to. You understand this, I’m sure.”
“I do. I get it.” A nod was all I could manage. I didn’t like the position he’d forced me into. “I don’t suppose you’ll give me time to think about it?”
Salem slid a glance at Arys who froze in his tracks. “Would you mind fetching me a glass of red wine?” After Arys moved toward the bar, Salem turned back to me. “Do you really need time to make a decision? Or are you merely hoping to find a way to put me off?”
“What will you do with Shya’s stone?” Answering questions with more questions rarely made anyone happy, but it was the best he would get out of me.
“Secure it,” Salem said, matter-of-factly. “Keep him locked away for as long as possible. The world is enough of a mess without Shya’s brand of chaos.”
Arys set a glass of wine in front of Salem before grabbing a chair at our table. He spun the chair around and straddled it, arms crossed on the back. Though he didn’t say a word, a muscle twitched in his jaw, a telltale sign that his patience ran thin.
I watched Salem sip the wine, envious. “I believe Shya is secure right now. Why not just leave it alone?”
Salem swirled the wine in the glass, watching the scarlet fluid jump and dance. “I won’t be content until he’s in my possession. That’s all there is to it.”
Crap. He wouldn’t be budged. Couldn’t say I blamed him. If I were in his shoes, I’d want Shya too.
‘Do you think it’s safe to give him Shya?’ I slipped the thought to Arys, keeping my gaze on Salem.
‘We don’t even technically have Shya. Although I doubt it matters who has him,’ came Arys’s smooth reply.
I said to Salem, “We don’t really have a choice but to play along and give you what you want, do we?”
“This wine is surprisingly good,” he remarked, gulping it down. “No. You don’t have a choice. But I’m trying to make this as amicable as possible. I have great respect for you, Alexa. We are kindred.”
“Kindred,” Arys scoffed.
Salem shot him a scowl so filled with darkness it shut Arys up. Not much could do that. It was almost as if Arys’s mere presence brought out Lilah’s darkness in Salem.
“Right,” I broke in. “We are. Kindred. Ignore Arys. He doesn’t know the path we walk. Light afflicted with dark. It’s not his path.”
“No, it certainly is not.” Something like anguish crossed Salem’s face. “The dark flame believes they suffer, but they don’t begin to grasp the concept of true suffering. Not like we do.”
Arys’s displeasure echoed inside me. He could dislike the truth, but it was still the truth. The struggle Salem and I lived with, it had to be worse than what our dark halves experienced. Didn’t it?
“Willow gave Shya’s stone to an angel named Serene,” I heard myself say. “When you go get it, please be peaceful. And Falon is to be left alone. For now.”
An audible sigh escaped Salem. “Thank you, Alexa. This means a great deal to me. Falon is all yours. Until you tire of him. My vengeance can wait. All I have is time.”
I nodded, at a loss for words. Falon had assumed Salem would be furious that Willow had given Shya’s stone away. To me he merely appeared to be relieved.
“I appreciate the wine.” Salem started to rise. “I should be leaving.”
“Wait, please.” I waved my hand for him to sit back down. “There’s something I�
�d like to ask you as long as you’re here.”
He dropped back into his seat with a curious brow raise. “Of course.”
I searched for the right way to ask this question. Getting the words out involved a great deal of hesitation and stammering. “It’s come to our attention that we’ve been given a keystone. An anchor to keep us balanced and grounded. I need to know how much worse will things be when we no longer have this keystone?”
The angel’s hard features reknit into a sympathetic grimace. A shake of his head caused the ginger braid in his hair to swing, drawing my eye. “Willow should never have gotten so involved. He crossed a line by doing that.” Lips pursed in judgment, Salem muttered something in another language beneath his breath. Extending a hand to me, he said, “I can much better show you than I can tell you. Be warned. It’s going to hurt.”
My gaze strayed to Arys who sat there, silent and stone faced. Salem had shown me a vision once before. It had been shocking but somehow enlightening. I didn’t have much of a choice here. Whatever Salem could share with me, I needed to know.
Sucking in a breath, I reached out and took his hand.
A series of images flashed through my mind, too fast to comprehend. The onslaught caused my brain to smash around inside my head. Suddenly it stopped, and I looked into a memory that belonged to an angel.
Shya, strung up with silver, hanging by his hands and wings from a silver beam. The setting had a cathedral-like vibe. It was a large, open space with high ceilings and stained-glass windows. Upon closer inspection, I noted that the artwork in the stained glass depicted horrific imagery of demons engaged in all kinds of debauchery. This was no holy place.
“There has to be another way.” Clad all in white, Lilah had a strange ethereal air about her. She clung to Salem’s hand, pleading with her eyes of fire. “Salem, please. I need him.”
I got the sense that she was speaking that old language even though I heard it in English.
Salem grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “He’s crossed the line for the last time. If he’s allowed to bend the rules, then what’s to stop the rest from doing it? Punishment must be delivered. We are the only two capable of doing what must be done. We’ve been called. Putting Shya into a human body is still better than he deserves for his crimes. How can you think otherwise?”
