He stalked past Blaéz.
“Wait.”
Teeth gritted, Aethan turned slowly. He didn’t trust himself to speak. The intense “come-on” look Blaéz was giving him did nothing for his mood.
Then it hit him, a blow to the gut as he struggled for breath. The Celt would already know without a word being spoken. He wouldn’t just see Echo—he’d have seen them both.
Abso–fucking–lutely great.
“Let it go, man. I don’t care what you’ve seen in your visions. I’m not in the mood for this,” he told the warrior and slammed out of the gym.
CHAPTER 7
Aethan materialized in the alley on the Lower East Side the following night. He scanned the area. No sign of him.
Not surprising. Calls to Týr’s cell phone went unanswered. Every time Aethan tried to connect through their mental link, he hit a wall. The warrior had cut himself off from contact—too damn bad for him. He’d find Týr and do the necessary evil.
The stiffness in his jaw had him releasing his clenched teeth. Apologies bit ass big time.
Aethan headed for Club Anarchy. He knew the male well enough to know how he’d vent his rage. And since Týr wasn’t out on the streets, what better place to find willing partners than the club.
Heavy metal music rocked through the worn building like an earthquake. Strobe lights bopped blue and green neon dots over a sea of frenzied, near-naked bodies. Laser beams flashed in rhythm to the music, heating up their feverish movements.
Ignoring the lower-level dance floor, Aethan stepped around rowdy, lurching drunks and headed upstairs to the VIP lounge. Beneath that nauseating cocktail of heavily perfumed air, the stale stench of liquor, and the sharp odor of white dust, he found the scent he wanted. Woody bergamot. The citrusy smell was fused with cold rage.
Avoiding several of the females who made a stumbling beeline toward him, he tracked the chilly anger down the short corridor. The club’s owner, a tall black male waited outside a door, dressed in cream-colored tailored pants and jacket. Thick platinum chains hung around his neck. On the other side of the door, flanking him, stood a big burly bouncer clad in black leather. They turned as Aethan approached. The glazed look in their eyes confirmed he was in the right place.
“You ain’t allowed in this section—”
The bouncer didn’t get a chance to say more. Aethan shoved into the mortals’ minds, took control. You didn’t see me.
Both men went back to staring at the wall opposite. Aethan willed the door open and stepped into the near darkened office, the door closing behind him.
Loud feminine moans and flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, drowning out the muffled music thumping in the club below. The musky scent of sex hit him. Týr had a female flat on her back over the desk, her legs wrapped around his waist, as he pounded into the human with no regard for her comfort.
From the way she was writhing, Aethan doubted she cared much.
Her unbuttoned top hung off her shoulders and displayed her ample assets, which jiggled with each thrust of Týr’s plundering hips. He still wore his clothes. His long coat hiding most of the action from view, for which Aethan was grateful.
Týr didn’t slow down. A cool smile rode his face as he ran a hand up the female’s torso, cupped the plump flesh of her breast, and squeezed, eliciting a louder moan from her. Quick fingers worked her pink nipples. The woman’s whimper grew nosier but not a sound came from Týr. Still keeping perfect rhythm, he started in on her other mound.
Yeah, the bastard was paying him back, big time. Damn hard to swallow when the truth was shoved down your throat with a fist the size of Thor’s hammer.
The carnal pleasures Aethan pretended not to have an interest in gained momentum. His body had stirred awake and it had nothing to do with the erotic activities taking place on the desk. He’d been in a constant state of arousal since he’d met Echo. His blood pounded in his veins and heated his groin with a need he’d give anything to satiate—to sink deep into her hot silky heat, have those honey-toned limbs wrapped around his waist, until his hunger for her was sated. Then he saw Echo’s face frozen in terror, her legs still around his hips, where she lay dead beneath him.
His blood ran cold.
Pivoting, Aethan stalked from the room. He joined the males outside the office, staring at the opposite wall and trying desperately to clear his head.
The door opened moments later and Týr swung past him, his expression unyielding. Aethan joined him. They left the club and headed into the chilly night air, the wind snapping open their long coats. Aethan stuck his hands in the pocket of his leathers.
“Týr—”
“Not interested.”
The male was still pissed. Aethan couldn’t blame him. Hell, if he had to deal with someone like himself, he’d be worse.
“Too bad. You’re going to hear it anyway.” He threw Týr’s sentiment from yesterday back at him, but got no reaction. “I was out of line, what I said—”
“It matters little.” Cold. Clipped. “I’m on duty at the rift.”
Týr stepped into a darkened doorway and his form began to shimmer. Before he could dematerialize, Aethan clamped a hand on his arm. “You want to take a shot at me, it is your right.”
He shrugged Aethan’s hand off. “I have work.”
Training. Duty. That’s what their lives amounted to. Aethan stepped back. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
Týr didn’t respond. The air around him shifted and he dematerialized.
Aethan rubbed his face with a weary hand. Redemption wasn’t for them. This was their life, the only one Gaia granted them. A damn cruel fate to walk amongst the freedom of others and never be able to touch it. Their existence was set in stone. Protect those whose life was forever barred from them. A life they could never have.
In the distance, church bells rang. Drunken laughter rippled through the darkness. He tensed, glanced around. A strange sensation rushed over him, unlike any he’d ever encountered before.
What the hell!
His thoughts scattered as the air around him shifted and sucked him into a whirlpool of unimaginable power.
***
Echo stepped out of her apartment door. The flurry of footsteps resounding through the silent hallway had her biting back a groan.
“Darn it, Echo. Wait up.” Kira rushed after her, tugging on her jacket. She hooked her arm through Echo’s as they left the building and headed up the street. A thin layer of mist swirled around them, blurring the lampposts lining the road.
“Sane people stay inside their homes, where it’s safe and warm,” Kira grumbled, zipping up her jacket.
“I have to get out, need some air. Go back inside, I won’t be long.”
“No. I know you. You’re still upset over what that jackass, Neal, said.”
“Kira, I’m fine. I can’t sleep, so I walk. It helps settle me.”
“At night? Echo, that’s like sticking a flashlight on your forehead, telling the demoniis a delicious human is available—no wait, your pheromones do that well enough.”
“I know.” A smile tugged at Echo’s mouth. “And I don’t have to expend any energy looking for them.”
Clearly not amused by her smart-ass remark, Kira’s tone was filled with irritation. “I’m afraid, one of these days, things will end badly for us.”
“Us?” Echo asked, unable to keep the amusement from her voice.
“Yes. If you die, I’ll be sad forever.”
Echo lost her smile. “I’m not going to die, silly.”
The incident with Neal had opened an old wound. If she were honest enough, a part of her would always hurt, a part that remained a child. Most times she didn’t let it bother her until she looked in the mirror...and saw her ugly eyes.
Weirdo. Freak. She’d heard it all before.
Memories nudged through the cracks in her mental armor.
‘Stay here you little freak.’
‘No! Please, don’t please�
��I’m sorry.’
He loomed over her, tall, thin, with dark eyes and a sneer on his face. Her foster father didn’t care for her pleas.
‘You mention that aura shit again, I’ll cut out your tongue and feed it to the dog. Auras? Only the devil’s spawn sees those things!’ He shoved her into the darkened basement and locked her in there.
A shudder filled her. She’d been young, barely six-years-old and had no idea what she’d done wrong. Her parents had died in a mugging gone wrong when she was four, leaving her to the tender mercies of the foster care system. But she learned one thing that day. She never spoke about her abilities to just anyone, again.
You did so with Aethan.
She scrunched her nose. Yeah. Well, Aethan didn’t count. He just bulldozed his way into her life and demanded answers. They’d probably still be there, standing behind the cathedral in a deadlock, if she hadn’t given him some kind of response.
“Echo, you okay?”
She nodded and squeezed Kira’s hand. “I’m fine.”
They’d been friends a long time and Kira understood her too well. They continued silently up the street, turned left and bypassed a homeless man sprawled on the sidewalk, soaked in alcoholic fumes.
“I don’t like the nights. Give me the creeps,” Kira whispered, glancing around the shadowy street and holding tighter onto Echo.
“That’s only because you know what else is out there.”
“True. Had I not met you, I would’ve never known. Gran certainly won’t tell me. You know how protective she is.”
“She just wants to keep you safe.”
“Any safer and I might as well be holed up in a nunnery.”
“Now, there’s an idea,” Echo said in amusement. “But would they let you change boyfriends every second week at a nunnery?”
Kira laughed.
As they passed the old Delancey subway station, an odd sound reached Echo. She frowned. There it was again—a scuffle, followed by a...moan? She slowed down and listened. Her eyes darted around, her attention drawn to the subway’s barricaded entrance. “Did you hear that?”
Warily, Kira glanced up then down the empty street. “No.”
“Wait here.” She freed her arm from Kira’s tight grip and jogged for the subway entrance, only to realize her friend was right behind her.
Kira grabbed her arm. “No—no! Echo, don’t go there!”
“Something’s wrong. I feel it.”
“But all kinds of people hang out in that place, even thugs.”
“I grew up with those kinds of people. Most can’t help what life’s handed them. I’ll be fine. Go back to the apartment.” Echo climbed through a gap in the barricade.
“If you’re gonna risk your limbs, well, someone’s got to be there to haul your butt home,” Kira retorted, following her.
They picked their way carefully down the broken steps and entered the darkened tunnel. The station, a casualty of a gas explosion several years ago, had been left to decay. Most of the lights were broken. A few still hung onto life, casting flickers of illumination on the faded graffiti walls with its damp patches. Water dripped from pipes overhead and formed puddles on the deteriorating concrete floor.
“I’m never watching horror movies again,” Kira muttered.
“So says the queen of horror fests.”
Movement farther along the platform caught Echo’s attention. She opened her psychic sight and sighed when she saw several pulsing red lights hovering around a single warm yellow one.
“I can handle them. Sit this one out, Ki.”
“Nuh-uh! If you think I’m leaving you to fight those things alone, you’re nuts. Besides, what’s the point of you teaching me how to fight and defend myself, huh?”
Echo exhaled roughly. She never wanted her friend to be caught in a situation like she’d been in so long ago. Helpless, while Tamsyn fought alone...
“Okay, okay. Fine,” she said, relenting. Since Kira couldn’t “see” demoniis, this was going to be tricky. “Remember, we stay back-to-back then we worry about what’s in front. If it gets bad, we run. Got it?”
“Got it,” Kira said, anxiety seeping off her.
Echo reached for a spare blade in her right boot, but Kira pulled her own from her jacket pocket. “Going anywhere with you, I need to be armed.”
Nodding, Echo turned. “Hey, boys! Why don’t ya come over here and play with us?”
“Jeez, Echo, no need to incite them.”
“But that’s half the fun,” Echo murmured, as the three gorgeous “men” turned.
Their images slipped and slid into each other. She caught flashes of scaly skin and flaming red eyes. No–no, not now. She blinked, shoving the images aside, trying to keep their human forms in her vision.
The demoniis tossed the homeless man aside and rushed for her, hunger flickering in their auras. Stopping abruptly, the leader of the pack held the others back and sniffed the air.
Oh yeah, her cursed pheromones weren’t selective. Anything possessing a Y chromosome found its way to her.
“You. Woman. Come here,” the demonii ordered, his voice like rusty nails.
“Are you some kind of stupid? Do I look like I’m coming anywhere near you?” Legs braced apart, she slid her hand to the scabbard belted to her waist and palmed the obsidian dagger.
He slithered closer as the other two fanned out.
“Jesus! Don’t you things ever take a bath?” Echo griped, edging backwards. She feinted right as he pounced. Moved left, dropped down, then swung her booted foot out and connected with his knees. A quick glance over her shoulder, she saw Kira had the situation in hand.
“Hey, not to be prejudiced or anything, but blond, really?” She danced back then lashed out with a final kick to the crotch and knocked Blondie down. “It clashes with your eyes. And so not the look for your ugly-ass face. Keep to the scales, far better.” She slashed his throat and plunged her dagger into his heart.
“You killed him!”
At the screech, Echo yanked out her blade, pivoting to the demonii circling her. “Stop whining. You’ll see him again soon.”
She attacked, went in low, dagger flashing, and sliced through the tendons behind his legs. A guttural shriek filled the tunnel as he fell to his knees. As Echo was about to go in for the kill a dark shimmer in the air, several feet in front of her, caught her attention. Her stomach lurched.
Oh crap! Portal.
“Kira, run!”
CHAPTER 8
The stench of sulfur hit Echo hard, making her choke. She swung around, her heart hammering in fear.
“Dammit, move, Kira!” She shoved her friend in the direction of the exit.
“I–I’m not leaving you here a–alone,” Kira sputtered, her fearful gaze fixed on the dark, flickering portal.
“Now, Kira! You know the rules. Move. I’ll be right behind you!”
As Kira scurried off, Echo slashed the throat of the demonii struggling to get back on his feet.
“Well, well, that was most impressive,” a lazy voice drawled.
Echo pivoted. Several demoniis stood near the portal while it spewed out more of the fiends. Their creepy red eyes glowed like embers in the darkness.
A demonii unlike any she’d seen before stepped forward, so handsome, it left a sick feeling in her stomach. The air around him was dense, his aura dark, like coagulated blood.
His long, chocolate-colored hair had been meticulously dreaded and gathered into a ponytail. His skin was far too pale compared to most demoniis she’d seen. And unlike the others who dressed casually, he wore a tailored suit. He looked bored and completely out of place in the dank subway.
“So, you’re the one causing a ruckus, down under,” he said, strolling toward her. His gaze drifted down her body then slowly back up again, making her cringe. “You’re curious, aren’t you? Wondering why I haven’t killed you yet. Why I haven’t taken your soul.”
Echo stepped back, caution in her every move. The power surr
ounding him suffocated her the closer he got. The urge to run crowded her, but she wasn’t stupid, understood she could never hope to outrun him and his small army.
“What do you want?”
His chuckle flayed her skin. “Ah, she shows courage—interesting. I want you.”
“You can’t have me.” Echo slowly backed away. She didn’t fear death. Hell, she accepted long ago that by hunting demoniis she’d die sooner. But not tonight. “Is this dance gonna take all night?” she demanded. A sleight of her hand and her dagger became hidden beneath her sleeve.
He laughed as if charmed. “You are delightful. Come, we waste time. We must leave this place.” He cast a distasteful glance at the rundown subway.
What? Hell was now a five-star resort?
“Do I look like I want to go anywhere with you?”
He glided closer. “You will,” he promised. The words caused a chill to sweep over her.
He circled her, sniffing. Echo gritted her teeth against the urge to shut her eyes. She didn’t like the sensation of him being this close. Beneath the acrid reek of sulfur, the sweet scent of honeysuckle drifted to her.
“You want to kill me? Go ahead—I hope you choke on my soul!”
“So dramatic.” He stopped in front of her, cocked his head, and studied her face.
Echo gaped, taken aback. His tobacco brown eyes were clear. Why weren’t his eyes red? He consumed human souls, too, didn’t he?
As if in tune with her thoughts, orange flames leapt out of his eyes and licked over his face.
Echo stumbled backward. Oh God! Her breath lodged in her chest. His eyes—she’d seen Hell in his eyes!
“It’s easy to conceal, if one knows how.” He smiled. Moving behind her, he sniffed again. “I am not a demonii. I don’t gorge myself on human blood or their frail souls. But I do keep them for my own amusement. Now, I will have a taste of you.”
Before she could register exactly what he meant, a wet trail slid across her nape. A shiver of revulsion raced over her. Why did every freakin’ demon she came across have to lick her?
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