A stack of pancakes sat on a plate in the center of the table. Trevor often said if the curse had given him the limited digestive properties of a dog, as well as the body, he would have killed himself. The man loved food, and pancakes drizzled with chocolate sauce were his ultimate favorite, so the fact that he hadn’t made a move to eat anything was doubly telling, but one look at the demon sitting opposite my canine friend and the reason was clear. Azren was tucking away pancakes as if they were going out of fashion, and Trevor, the resident piglet of the house, was captivated. He caught my eye and blinked slowly, then went back to Azren-watching. Had to admit, watching the demonic spirit shoveling golden delicious into his mouth with all the easy abandon of a child was kind of mesmerizing. In that moment, he wasn’t a beast that could kill me with a single talon swipe. He was merely a man enjoying a meal. A chuckle rose up my throat, but I swallowed it. Azren was not a friend. He was a necessary evil, not a member of the team. He’d given his word not to slaughter us, but if Elora asked him to, there was no doubt in my mind he’d break it. Best not to make him too comfortable. Best not to let my guard down. Wary was safe, but the fear from our first encounter was gone because right now he needed me.
“Hey, guys.” I strode into the room and Azren looked up from his plate, mouth full of pancake.
He swallowed hastily and composed his features. I guess looking like a piglet in front of Trevor didn’t count. His hair was damp from the shower, and his tan skin glowed in the shafts of sunlight streaming in through the windows. In this harsh light, every cruel line of his face, including the brutal scar that ran across it, was visible in stark relief, and yet, those eyes of his, deep jade and fringed in thick, dark lashes, softened the edges of his ruthless features.
He cleared his throat and indicated the plate in front of him. “This is good. Do you have these every day?”
I poured myself a cup of tea from the pre-prepared pot on the table. “Not every day. But Gilbert’s pancakes are exceptionally tasty. You’re lucky you were here for them.”
Azren looked about. “Gilbert?”
Trevor sniffed. “He hasn’t met Gilbert yet. Gilbert popped out once breakfast was ready.”
“Well, you’ll meet him soon, I suppose.”
Azren nodded and took another pancake off the stack.
“Leave some for the rest of us,” Trevor grumbled.
Azren paused in mid-bite. “Do abominations eat pancakes?”
“For the hundredth time, I am not an abomination. I am a man cursed into a dog.” He turned to me. “Tell him, Wila.”
I stuck a fork in a pancake and slid it onto my plate. “Azren, Trevor is not an abomination.”
“If you say so,” Azren said with a shrug that pulled his dark shirt tight over his shoulders. He sat back in his seat, and my gaze fell to his abdomen, where material of said shirt clung to his abs lovingly. Fucking hell, demon bodies were tight. Tearing my gaze away, I polished off the pancake. I really needed to get laid, and soon.
“We hunt today?” Azren said.
“Yes. We hunt. But first we need to find out where to hunt. I have some friends that we can speak to who may have heard something about Shedim activity in Arcana. If not, they may know who we can speak to.”
“Good. You do not want to return to Elora empty-handed.”
My stomach quivered, and the pancakes no longer looked that appetizing.
Azren drained his cup of tea. “What is this beverage? I like it.”
“You don’t have tea on the Westside?”
“No. There are many things we do not have.”
I gasped and placed a hand on my chest in mock horror. “No tea?” I shook my head. “Pancakes I can understand, but no tea? Now that sucks.”
His gaze narrowed. “We eat for sustenance, not for pleasure.”
“So what do you eat?” Trevor asked. “Children?”
“Trev ...” My tone held warning at the low blow, but I was curious.
Azren had gone completely still, his jaw tight. “No. We do not have the same appetites as the Draconi.”
“Yes,” Trevor said snidely. “I’ve heard all about your appetites.”
Oh, God. How could I have forgotten the whole sex reference. Shedim were meant to be highly sexed, and yet Azren seemed perfectly—for want of a better word—unhorny. Although the memory of his body heat beating against my skin when he’d held me up against the wall made my neck grow warm.
“My other appetites are none of your damned business,” Azren said.
It was my turn to clear my throat. “So, um, what do you eat?”
His gaze cut to me, and my breath lodged in my throat. “Rodent, weevil, sometimes there will be other meat like chicken, and sometimes our liege will permit us the bones and scraps from her table, but more often than not, we abstain. We do not have the same hungers as the Draconi.”
Man, I wish I’d never asked.
“You go hungry?” The edge had bled out of Trevor’s tone.
Yeah, Trevor loved food. The canine was like a bear with a sore head if he didn’t get his meals on time.
Azren shrugged. “We can survive for long periods without eating.”
There was a little chocolate sauce on the corner of his mouth. “You have a little something”—I indicated the corner of my mouth—“here.”
His brow furrowed and then his tongue flicked out to lick the corner of his mouth, and my insides tightened. Fear, it was fear, but the flash of heat that accompanied the pang was something else.
“It’s still there,” Trev said.
That fucking swipe of the tongue again. Fuck this. Sliding back my chair, I leaned across the table, grabbed his chin, and ran the pad of my thumb across the spot, wiping it clean. “It’s gone now.” My voice was tight, making me sound almost angry.
He stared up at me, his expression stunned. The heat from his skin seeped into mine with a tingle of awareness. His throat bobbed and then his lips tightened, and there was that come-hither heat again.
Heck, no.
I fell back into my seat, picked up my cup for a swig, realized it was empty, and put it back down again. “We should go.”
Yes.” Azren pushed back his seat. “We should hunt.”
The bloodthirsty gleam that usually accompanied those words was absent, and he wouldn’t meet my eyes, although his brows were drawn. He looked pissed off.
He followed me into the Foyer. K was propped against the banisters along with my bolts. I loaded up while the heat of his regard painted the side of my face. Touching him had been a bad idea; touching him had felt way too natural, and it had obviously offended him.
The front door opened and a shadow fell across us as Adam Noir stepped into the hallway.
“Miss Bastion, I believe we have some business to attend—” His eyes widened as they slid past me and onto Azren.
His arm shot out, expelling a blast of electrical energy. The blue and white sparks hit Azren square in the chest, knocking him off his feet and propelling him back into the kitchen. Trevor’s terrified bark drifted out toward me and then Azren was barreling back into the hallway, his huge body a blur as it gunned for Adam.
“Stop!” I stepped into Azren’s path, body slamming him, arms around his waist, face pressed to his chest in a hug. “Stop. He’s a client.”
“Miss Bastion, get away from it.” Adam sounded horrified.
“He’s an employee,” I threw over my shoulder.
Azren had gone completely still, and yeah, I was still hugging him. Awkward. Slowly, and very deliberately, I peeled myself off his thrumming body, awareness a tingle at every point our bodies had made contact, which was pretty much all over.
Azren remained completely still. The only movement was the rise and fall of his chest. The glamour had fallen away enough for his eyes to do their glowing thing, and his face was suddenly more angular. His attention was on Adam. He bared his lethal teeth in a menacing growl.
I held up my hands. “I’m sure Adam didn�
��t mean to attack you, did you, Adam?” I looked pointedly at Noir.
Adam Noir looked from Azren to me and the moment was defused. “What the hell is going on, Miss Bastion.”
I looked to Azren. His narrowed gaze was still fixed on Noir, but the glow was gone. “We good?”
Azren snorted.
I sighed. “Step into my office, and I’ll explain.”
“You signed a blood contract with Elora?” Noir shook his head.
“She had no choice,” Azren said.
The office was bathed in morning sunlight. It spilled across Noir, setting his golden hair on fire. Azren stood with his back to the window and his arms folded, his figure cast in shadow. The light and the dark, face to face, was weirdly symbolic, and yeah, I was reading way too much into this.
“I wasn’t speaking to you,” Adam snapped at Azren, never taking his eyes off me. “What did the contract say. Exactly.”
Azren’s chest rumbled and his eyes flashed. It was obvious he was itching to pummel Noir, but the Shedim was on my turf, and he’d agreed to play by my rules.
“Miss Bastion? The contract?” Noir pressed.
Oh, shit. “I don’t know. It was pretty illegible.”
“You didn’t read it?”
“I couldn’t. Like I said, illegible.”
“And you signed?”
He was making me sound like a moron, and anger flared in my chest at his incredulous tone. “It was a die-or-fucking-sign situation.” I caught Azren’s wince at the use of my curse word and rounded on him. “And if you’re going to be working on this side of the border, then get used to the cursing. Trust me, there’s so much worse out there.”
Noir sighed. “We need to get hold of a copy of that contract.”
He sounded genuinely concerned, and a shiver of apprehension slipped up my spine. “It’s sweet that you care, but I doubt that’s going to happen, because there is no way I’m going back and asking for a copy.”
Noir stroked his chin. “Yes, I guess that may be inflammatory. But we need to be sure of the wording.”
“Azren?” I arched an enquiring brow at the demon.
“As if he’ll tell you,” Noir said.
Azren growled low and menacing in his throat, and every hair on my body trembled. “If he knew, then he would.”
Noir’s jaw ticked as they fell into a macho staring contest.
“Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t you both wop out your cocks, and you can compare sizes? Settle this once and for all?”
Noir balked but Azren’s lips stretched in a wicked grin. “Gladly.”
Whoa. Okay, was not expecting that. “Easy, Big Guy.”
It was Adam’s turn to arch a brow.
My neck heated. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Magic Fingers. It’s a figure of speech. Now, tell me, why is the wording so important?”
He slid a glance Azren’s way. “Maybe we could talk in private.”
Azren’s jaw flexed and then he shrugged. “I’ll be outside.” He strolled out of the room.
Noir flicked his fingers at the door and then focused on me.
“What was that?”
“What?”
“The finger flick?”
“An auditory blocker.”
“You really don’t trust him, do you?”
“And you do?”
Did I? I had no reason to, but then there was no concrete reason not to aside from the fact he worked for a douchebag and ate pancakes like they were sugar-coated shooting stars. “He vowed not to slaughter me, if that counts.”
“Nice.”
“I think so. Now spill it.”
“How much do you understand about the Treaty?”
“That it basically keeps the Draconi and the Shedim on the Westside. That they need to petition to come over here and that they aren’t permitted to hunt outside of the Westside.”
“That’s basically it. My issue is that Elora has found a loophole with you and this contract. It’s allowing a Shedim to hunt on this side of the border under the guise of working for you when in effect you are both working for Elora.”
“I don’t like that any more than you do, but if rogue Shedim are in our territory, isn’t that something we need to act on?”
“Yes, it is, and Elora could have come to us with this problem ages ago. It’s suspicious that she didn’t, and now I’m concerned. What if the contract doesn’t just allow for one Shedim to work for you, what if it’s open to more than one. What if the contract simply says Shedim—as in plural.”
The penny dropped. “Then Elora could send as many Shedim as she wanted.”
“Yes, and if there is no official expiry on that contract, and if there is no specific job, then she could use you as an anchor to hunt to her heart’s content.”
Fucking hell. “We need a copy of that contract.”
“No. What we need is to get you out of the contract, because if the Arcana Institute finds out about it, they’ll take the simplest action to nullify the threat.”
My chest tightened. “They’ll kill me.”
He nodded slowly.
“How come you’re warning me? You could be taking me, neutralizing the threat.” And why the heck was I still talking?
“You saved my daughter’s life at the risk of your own. What kind of ungrateful arsehole do you take me for?”
“An Arcana Institute arsehole?” He opened his mouth to retort but I forged on. “Look, your kind have never given a shit about us plebs, so excuse me for the skepticism.” He tried to butt in and I held up my hand to stall him. “But I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. So, thanks for being an exception and giving a shit. But have you considered that this job may just be a one-off? Elora seemed pretty pissed off about these rebels.”
He canted his head, acceding my point. “It’s a possibility, but I highly doubt that someone as conniving as Elora will have let you off so lightly. You stole from her, and a dragon never forgives such an act. You need to wrap up this case fast and get hold of that contract.” His eyes narrowed speculatively. “I’ll help if I can. Just let me know what I can do, and Bastion, if you find yourself out of your depth, call me. This could turn sour real quick, real fast.”
“Yeah, it’s not like I have you on speed dial.”
He graced me with a slow blink. “Now you do.”
Oh, man. These guys had way too much power. “Want to rustle me up that dustkicker over there while you’re at it?”
He glanced at the poster. “That’s your thing?”
“Yeah, I prefer my leather to look kick ass.”
“I can see that.” He eyed me up and down, and heat climbed up my neck. A strange tension filled the room.
It had been a long while since a man had looked at me like that, and coming from a tight-arse such as Adam Noir, it was even more of a blush-worthy encounter. But Arcana and plebs did not mix. Ever.
I cleared my throat. “Yeah, well. Okay, are we done now?”
He blinked and the weird spell was broken. “Almost.” He pulled a wad of cash from his back pocket. “Payment for a job well done.”
“Thanks.” I pocketed the cash. “So, I’ll see you around.”
He followed me outside and down the steps into the driveway where his fancy car was parked. Azren looked up from the spot where he leaned against his bike. Adam walked past, expensive leather shoes crunching on gravel, and Azren blanked him, eyes straight ahead. The thud of a car door, the purr of an engine, and he was gone.
Azren pushed off his bike. “You’re riding with me. We’ll get places much faster.”
He had a point, but trying to direct him while barreling down a highway at goodness knew how many miles an hour was not appealing, not without a helmet anyway.
“Nope. I’ll stick to four wheels. Just try and keep up.”
He snorted. And was that a slight smile on his face? He turned away too quick to know for sure. No. Those lips probably didn’t even know how to smile. It had to be a trick o
f the light. I climbed into the Mini and started her up.
Time to hunt.
9
The Hunter and the Prey was pretty empty when we arrived. The place usually filled up by late afternoon, but right now, it was just the regular fixtures. Maple, who always sat at the bar with a gin and tonic and romance novel and got eyed up by the two old coots playing the longest game of chess in the history of the world, and my personal favorite, Old Dermot, who sat by the window with a pint of Guinness and The Daily Vine. In his heyday, the old coot used to drive the trains that crisscrossed beneath the city—the now closed-off, underground network. All he had now were tales of a simpler time, tales of a time before the world existed in pockets. The guy was over a century old and pretty tight-lipped about his heritage and abilities, if any, but his longevity suggested he was Lupin or Sanguinata—the wolf men and bloodsuckers that resided in packs and clans around the city. I’d asked him, of course, on several occasions, but he’d always side-stepped the question.
Taylem looked up from wiping the bar, and his rugged face broke into a grin at the sight of me, but then his gaze slid over my shoulder to the hulking figure at my back and the grin slipped.
Oh, dear. Softly, softly would be the key here. We’d never been an official thing, and one night did not a relationship make, but he was someone I cared about, and hurting his feelings was not on the agenda.
I hailed Tay and wound my way past the tables and chairs to the long oak bar at the back of the building. This place was old-school chic, keeping the vibe of the great city Arcana had once been. Wooden bar stools and tables gave the place a rustic air. The windows were made up of tiny panes that looked like the bottom of beer bottles, and the lighting was low—lamplight level—giving the place a warm, cozy air. No wonder this was the place to be in the evening. Hot food, good drink, and pleasant company were all on offer, except that right now, Tay looked far from pleased.
His eyes narrowed as we reached the bar, and his whole demeanor shifted from friendly to defensive. “Wila, what can I do for you?”
“Hey, Taylem. My colleague and I were hoping you could help us with a case we’re working on.”
City of Demons (Chronicles of Arcana Book 1) Page 8
