by R. Scarlett
Tensley clenched his jaw and placed Stella down on limp feet. His arms wrapped around her waist, clutching her to his frame. He wasn’t kissing her though, only stroking her arms.
“Tensley,” Molly choked out. “That’s not enough.”
His dark eyes pierced through her and he huffed out. His head lowered, his lips parting over Stella’s. Molly fisted her shirt. She didn’t want him to, but he had to. He had to heal her.
Tensley looked away, his lips moving far away from Stella’s. “Illya.”
Illya straightened, but after a short pause, he moved forward and took Stella from him as Tensley edged toward Molly. Illya ran his fingers through Stella’s red hair to tilt her neck. Slowly, he peppered gentle kisses along her cheek, edging to her chin. Stella moaned after a few seconds and began to shift in Illya’s grip. He held her close, absorbing the remaining belladonna in Stella’s system through her skin.
“Uhh,” Stella rasped and shifted her head so it leaned against Illya’s shoulder. He rubbed her arms up and down, his body plastered entirely to hers, almost as if to warm her, but she knew he was actually absorbing the drug through her skin.
The sound of his mouth hitting her skin and Stella’s moans echoed in the empty, dark street. Stella suddenly lifted her head and twisted so her lips met Illya’s. Her fingers dug into his arms and he pulled back, gasping.
Stella, coming out of her drug-induced daze, stared back at Illya’s swollen lips and wild eyes.
“You’re okay,” Illya said when they separated, tucking a loose red wave behind her ear.
Stella couldn’t stop staring at him. “I feel funny.”
Molly moved closer and touched Stella’s shoulder. “Let’s get you back to my apartment, okay?”
Stella nodded absently, gaze never leaving Illya’s. “Okay…”
“I swear, he’s like kryptonite to all my friends,” Molly whispered in Tensley’s ear as they took off in the direction of her building.
Tensley smiled wryly at Molly and wrapped an arm around her waist. “We usually have that effect.”
TENSLEY AND ILLYA sat on the couch while Molly stayed with Stella in September’s bedroom. Illya fidgeted with his coat pocket, lazily searching for something only to find tissues, and finally, he settled on cupping his shaking hands together between his spread legs.
“Do you feel okay?” Tensley asked worriedly, eyeing Illya’s unfocused gaze.
“Just a bit drained. I haven’t had a hit of belladonna that strong for a while,” he said, dragging a hand down his face. “What they gave her would knock me out too.”
Tensley smirked. “At least it’ll relax you for a while.”
Illya slumped back in his seat and glared. “A bit too much.”
Tensley leaned his head against the crumbling wall and glowered at Molly’s apartment. He didn’t like her living here—not when her fucking door was open to anyone. He’d caught a few college-aged guys checking her out as she moved through the hallways. He’d buy her a new lock himself to ease his nerves. Excluding the safety issue, it was a poor excuse of a living area.
“How’s Big Mouth?” Tensley didn’t enjoy talking about September and Illya’s strange relationship, but he wanted to focus on something else.
Illya rubbed his wrinkled forehead. “She said she’d rather not date a demon.” He shrugged, as if understanding September’s decision completely.
Tensley glowered at his friend. “Are you fucking serious? That—” Illya was a rare kind of person—demon, and September was fucking blind. “Well her damn loss. We can do better than Big Mouth.”
Illya smiled tiredly. “Or maybe she just needs time.”
Tensley groaned. “This woman has you by the balls.”
At the sound of Molly’s door shutting, Tensley stood up. Illya managed to stand, resting his palm on the table.
“How’s she doing?” Illya’s forehead wrinkled.
Molly folded her arms underneath her chest and moved closer. “She’ll be okay. I’m gonna stay with her tonight so she’s not alone if she wakes up.”
His chest twisted at how shaky her voice was.
“Well, let me know if you need anything,” Illya said as he rubbed Molly’s shoulder.
She weakly smiled at him.
Tensley didn’t look away from her as she stared at the ground. He waited until Illya shut the door and then stepped closer.
“They drugged her, Tensley,” she whispered and wiped under her nose. “She said they didn’t touch her, but the intent was there. They were going to sell her off to the highest bidder and then what? I don’t even want to think of what they’d do to her. She was so weak when we found her, she wouldn’t have been able to fight back.”
Tensley swallowed thickly. “We’re not all like them.”
Her eyes shot up, wet and red. “Promise?” The way her lips shook, her determination as she blinked back the warmth dragged a knife through his chest.
“Promise,” he answered honestly.
A teary-eyed smile graced her lips and she leaned up and kissed him slowly. Her soft lips tasted sweet and salty and he licked across them.
Her smile fractured as her fingers traced along his jaw. “Did Pearce lose his heart? Like your brother?”
Tensley’s brows lowered. “No. Some people are just born that way.”
Her eyes met his, holding a deep sorrow. “What’s wrong with him then?”
Tensley cupped her cheeks. “He’s what a demon should be, but he isn’t mentally well. Just stay away from him for now.”
The way she looked at him, so trusting and pure and at the same time as if she was undressing him—he knew he had to say something to keep a distance between them. He thought of Beau, of his mistakes, his curses, and he knew he couldn’t let himself fall or he’d lose his heart. Control, he needed to be in control of himself and her. She couldn’t get too close or he’d lose control of himself.
Tensley remembered how she looked next to that man outside of her apartment, comfortable and smiling up at him like he was the one who lit the stars. He had seen the man before—Michael. He was the kind of man who would give her everything she wanted. Tensley despised him because he wanted to be that man, but he knew he couldn’t. He would never be good enough.
She stepped out of his embrace, but it felt like more than that. “Goodnight, Tensley.”
He watched her go back into her bedroom and once she shut the door, he left. He got into the back seat of his car and glanced up at her dark window.
If any other demon showed up to so much as hurt a hair on Molly’s head, he’d start a bloody war.
“I THINK I burned the toast,” Stella grumbled as she stood at the kitchen counter in Molly’s robe.
Molly looked over her shoulder at the blackened bread and grimaced. “I’ll open the windows.”
Stella had woken up an hour before, uncharacteristically quiet, and had been moving through the kitchen like a ghost all morning.
Stella settled herself in a chair and rested her head in her hands as Molly popped two new slices of bread into the toaster. She’d have to get more groceries soon, and hoped she’d have enough money for another loaf.
“I should’ve gone with my gut,” Stella said. “But he wanted to take me out for dinner and some of his friends showed up and they all seemed so nice. And then when he could tell I was nervous, he offered a little something to take the edge off.”
Molly clasped Stella’s trembling hands in her own.
“Stella, it wasn’t your fault.”
“I should’ve never taken what they gave me. I’m so stupid,” she said weakly.
Molly sat down and looked her straight in the eye. “You’re not stupid, and I swear to god, if I see any of those people again, I’ll make them pay.”
Stella sniffled and drank some of her orange juice. “I know…” Stella swallowed and tilted her head back, fighting tears. “I know I don’t say it ever, but I really, really appreciate you. Not many people I know would
do what you did for me last night.”
Molly’s throat grew dry. “I would never abandon you, Stella. Especially not last night.”
“And I can’t believe I made out with Tensley’s other friend. Ugh!” She buried her face in her hands and groaned.
“Illya?”
“Yeah.”
Molly opened her mouth, but the front door slammed shut and she turned to see September strolling in. Illya trailed behind, his face still drained of color but looking a tad more awake than he had last night.
“I’m back, hoes! Look who I found loitering outside our apartment!” September threw her backpack onto the floor and walked over, swinging the chair around to sit down opposite them. “Didn’t know you were down for our secondhand apartment, Vanderbilt.”
Stella’s wide eyes had been trained on Illya, but as soon as September spoke, she met September’s stare. “No, I love secondhand, just not your secondhand hookups,” Stella said, smilingly painfully bright.
September grabbed a piece of Stella’s toast and took a bite. “I’m just gonna ignore your existence now. Bye Felicia.”
“September.” Molly hit her arm.
“What?”
Stella stood and took off Molly’s robe, handing it to her. “I need to meet Tina for brunch. I’ll call you later.”
Stella glanced over at Illya, her hands fidgeting with her belt as her cheeks blushed crimson. “I’m sorry for last night.”
Illya’s brows shot up. “For what?”
Stella studied her patent leather pumps. “For kissing you.”
“What?” September said, dropping the piece of toast and staring between the two, mouth agape.
Illya laughed once and shook his head. “No worries.”
Stella had a rare expression on her face, one of tenderness. “All right then—see you around.”
“Hopefully not,” September said, throwing a mocking wave Stella’s way.
Once the front door shut, Molly turned to September. “Was that necessary?”
September lifted her hands in surrender. “I think so. And you—what was that about?” she said, swiveling to face Illya.
Illya swallowed. “I was checking up on her.”
September hummed. “And why are you checking up on Stella Vanderbilt?”
Molly folded her arms. “She had a really hard night, okay? Cut her a break.”
A wrinkle appeared between September’s brows. “What happened?”
Molly rubbed her eyes and sat back; she’d barely slept, checking every half hour to ensure Stella was still breathing. “She went to a party with Pearce.”
“Pearce?” September asked, puzzled.
“A psychopath demon staying with Tensley right now. He met Stella randomly and must’ve invited her to a demon party last night.”
“Ooooh, that couldn’t have ended well,” September said, understanding etched on her features.
Molly shook her head. “No, it didn’t. They drugged her with belladonna—the same stuff Abaddon gave me. She could’ve died if not for Illya and Tensley.”
September rubbed her back and leaned her head on Molly’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Mol. I want to help…maybe I can let her get a few jabs in at me? You know, make her feel powerful?”
Molly poked her best friend in the side. “September.”
“I do have some good news though.”
“You’re both moving out of this apartment?” Illya said from where he leaned against the cheap laminate countertop.
Molly stirred her tea, watching the loose leaves swirl around. “Har, har. What is it, September?”
“Meet your new warlock, courtesy of your main hoe.”
MOLLY GAWKED AT the small building crammed between a laundromat and a Chinese restaurant. Above a painted black door was a sign that read Unique New York. When she entered, she quickly realized it was a music store full of old records and instruments, with aisles so crowded she had to walk sideways.
All day at work she had thought of going to see Lance, but she wasn’t expecting this to be where the legendary warlock stayed.
“Uh, hello?” She glanced down at September’s childish handwriting to double-check the address. “Lance?” she hollered into the small shop.
No one responded but Molly could hear loud music blaring from the back room. She sighed and marched forward, entering an outdated, messy kitchen to find a man sitting cross-legged on his aged table, legs bent to the point of snapping.
“Uh,” she began, frowning at the sight.
“I’m conjuring,” the man sang back.
“Uh, well. It’s important?”
He simply hummed back. Molly looked back at the chaotic shop, debated whether to leave, but stopped herself. No. She needed to find Cree—now. She grabbed the bowl full of wet leaves from in front of man.
His eyes snapped open. “That was a dick move.”
“I need your help.”
Lance shrugged his shoulders and stood. He was tall, lanky, and in his thirties—not what she expected when she heard the term warlock.
“Who are you?” he asked, his brows hiking up.
She stayed silent, debating whether or not to answer honestly. He didn’t look dangerous, but appearances were often deceiving.
“I received your information from a friend,” she said, dodging the question.
“Okay…” he said, nodding slowly. His hair was shoulder-length, dark brown, and messy, and he was wearing an orange beanie and a muscle tee with the words New York on it. Dark shades concealed his eyes.
“Do you know about the Hunters of Orion?” she said, folding her arms. “Cree’s hunters.”
“Ha, those guys don’t know when to stop,” he said, shaking his head as he laughed. He leaned against the shelf and a few plates fell, but it didn’t faze him. “So, what’s the problem? What do you need my help for? Hunters pestering you? Trying to steal your property?” He put up a hand before she could answer. “Don’t say anything! Let me guess.”
Molly didn’t waste her time. “I need to know where Cree is.”
Lance held up three fingers. “That was my third guess.” He took a big bite out of his half-eaten sandwich and smacked his lips together loudly.
“I need to find Cree. Now,” she said, her voice stern.
Lance choked on his food and pounded his chest with a fist. “All right, all right. I realize patience is a quality not many possess. The thing is, Cree doesn’t want to be found right now. The man’s face is half-burned off,” he said, gesturing at his own face. “I’ve heard unity isn’t going strong for the hunters lately, so that might also be why…”
Molly dug her nails into her palm—she was the one who had thrown those coals in Cree’s face, marring it forever. “Shoot the Freak is destroyed, and none of them show up to the cemetery anymore. When they do show their faces, it’s because they’re trying to kill me, so I’m going to ask you again—where is Cree?”
Lance shrugged again. “Dunno, but if I see him, I’ll tell him you’ve been looking for him.”
Another dead end. “Thanks anyway,” she said, turning to leave and sidestepping the CDs and records scattered across the floor.
“Hey, wait,” he called after her. “Cree wouldn’t have left the city, that I know. You’ll get to see the pretty face you gave him soon enough, I’m sure.”
Molly’s brows furrowed. “I don’t know what you mean…”
He smiled widely. “Sure you do—you’re the one who burned Cree’s face with coals. I’m a warlock; you can’t fool me. I also know you’re Tensley Knight’s daemon. Watch out for him; I hear demons tend to get a bit frisky.”
Molly eyed the strange man and turned, exiting the empty shop. Without any help from the warlock, she’d have to again spend the whole night searching for a sign of Cree.
“What’s new?” she mumbled to herself, turning down the first alley and narrowly missing a shattered glass bottle on the ground. “Oh, shit—”
“Molly,” came a da
rk voice at her back, deep and melodic.
She spun, recognizing the speaker immediately. “Tensley?”
He ushered her back onto the main sidewalk, full lips in a taut line. “We need to talk.”
TENSLEY STOOD IN the shadows of the street and edged nearer, his obsidian eyes flashing suspiciously at her. “Where are you going?”
She glared in his direction. “Are you following me?”
At the sound of her irritation, Tensley moved fast like a viper made out of shadows. Every step he took made her heart pound as he stepped forward with that quiet, confident, I-own-the-world stride. “I’m stopping you from going over the edge.”
She threw her hands up with a bitter laugh. “What edge? What are you talking about?”
“I’m not going to stand idly by while you put yourself in danger,” he said, his voice tight.
“I’m not in danger—”
“You’re looking for Cree. You’re not sleeping, not eating. You’re paranoid and scared and agitated,” he said, his voice harsher with each word.
She shook her head. “You don’t know anything.”
“So September doesn’t know anything either?”
September told him? Molly ground her teeth together. “I’m fine.” Her shaky voice didn’t help her case, though. “I’m a big girl, Tensley. I can take care of myself.” She spun and continued down the alleyway.
He followed after her, circling to cut her off. “I’m not comfortable with you going after those savages.”
“I just want to find him, okay? I want to stop wondering if they’re waiting outside my apartment, or if they’ve gone after you… I just—I want to make it right!”
“Molly, this isn’t your burden to carry,” he said, his deep voice like silk against Molly’s skin.
She shivered, shaking her head. “No, Tensley, it is. I screwed up, put both of us in danger. They still have Lex and and it’s making me sick thinking of all the things they could be doing to her as we speak…” She ran her fingers through her hair. “I want to prove that you can trust me.”
His stoic stare pierced into her. “By what? Not sleeping, coming back to your apartment bruised and beaten?” He breathed in deeply and sighed, a small smile appearing at the corners of his luscious lips. “You want to fight, ciccia? Then how about you fight me? If my little daemon has some claws, I’d rather she used them on me.”
