by Ciara Graves
“What about next time?”
“Next time, it’ll be an order. Time off or the psychologist. Take your pick.”
Time off would mean I’d be at home alone in my apartment. Day in and day out. Alone with my nightmares and my memories. Thinking about Antonio. If Mercy were still crashing at my place, it wouldn’t be such a bad idea, but she wasn’t. I took the card and shoved it in my pocket.
“I expect to hear you’ve been to see him within a week,” Nor told me as I stood. “Or it’ll be an order, and after that, I’ll be locking you out of the building. Get yourself right, Rafael. Not like the end of the world is happening right now.”
“Whatever you say, sir.”
“You know what? How about you take the rest of the day off?” he suggested, though it didn’t sound like a suggestion. “I’ll have Iris call you if they get anything on Todd. Or anything else.”
Grinding my teeth, I bit back what I wanted to say and left his office. Not having anything to take home to work on, I logged out of my computer and walked out of the building without a word to anyone. I’d been sent home by my boss. Did I look that bad lately? There was stubble on my face as I reached up to scratch my jaw. More than stubble. When was the last time I shaved? Or had an actual full meal? The last restful night’s sleep I had was back before the werewolves’ case. Maybe Nor was right and time off wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
Then again, the notion of being alone in my apartment for an extended period made me anxious. Going home now didn’t even sound like that great of a plan. I checked my phone to see what time Mercy sent her texts. There was a chance she’d still be at the clinic. She hadn’t given a name, but the popular one for supes was near the Underground. For obvious reasons.
If nothing else, I figured I’d make my way to the Wailing Siren and hang out there. I hadn’t spoken to Bowen since getting back. Didn’t seem like such a bad idea to catch up with him and see if there were any rumors going around about a hitman on the run.
I changed directions in the middle of the sidewalk and instead of making for home, walked toward the Underground.
Rafael…
I stopped short, and several supes ran into the back of me, cursing at me for getting in the way.
I glanced over the heads of those nearest me, but there wasn’t anyone looking back.
The wind had picked up since this morning, and I told myself that’s all it was. The wind. The icy cold wind of winter howling around the buildings. Yeah. That’s what it was.
Rafael… you swore to me…
The words whispered right past my ear, as if Antonio was standing there, alive. But he wasn’t. He was dead. I didn’t pay any attention to where I went as the whispering continued, growing louder and louder, drowning out the people talking and car horns blaring until it was all I heard.
I turned right at the end of the block, tucking my head low to try and block the noise, but it only grew worse. Each pounding beat of my heart echoed painfully inside my skull with the sharp utterance of my name, over and over and over again.
I growled furiously, startling a few passersby, not that I cared.
You watched me die… soon, it’ll be your turn unless you kill her…
“No!”
“Rafael?”
Hands grabbed my arm.
I flailed, snarling at whoever it was to get away from me.
The grip tightened and then another fisted in my coat front, yanking me down until my eyes were level with Mercy’s.
“Snap out of it,” she said sharply. “What’s gotten into you?”
Several supes watched me closely as they sidled past.
“Nothing, I’m fine.”
“Bullshit,” she muttered. “You were acting like someone was attacking you.” Her eyes scanned my face and worry filled her gaze as she kept a firm hold on my arm, turned, and walked away, taking me with her.
“Come on, let’s go find somewhere and sit down.”
Faint whispers of Antonio’s voice stuck with me, so I was in no place to argue.
She took us to the Underground since we were only a few blocks away.
Once there, we avoided the Wailing Siren and ended up at a small café run by fairies. They were normal size while here, their wings tucked safely against their backs, appearing only as tattoos. We both ordered coffees and waited for them to reach the table before we finally made eye contact.
“So,” she said, stirring sugar into her coffee, “what were you doing in this part of town?”
“I was told to take a half day,” I said roughly. “Boss’s orders.”
“What for?”
“Long story.”
“And instead of going home you were heading toward the Underground?” Her lips lifted in a crooked grin as she sat back. “Were you coming to check up on me at the clinic?”
“The thought might’ve crossed my mind,” I confessed. “How are the bites by the way?”
“Hurt, but I’ll live,” she said. After taking off her black coat, she pulled up a sleeve of her black shirt. Her arm was wrapped in bandages from wrist to elbow. “No stitches thankfully, though I swear he was gnawing on my arm like he was a damned ghoul instead of a vamp.”
“Why were you at the clinic and not with Gigi?” I asked.
She shrugged, but I caught the uneasiness in her gaze. “Can’t bug her all the time for the crap I get into. I’m fine with the clinic doctors when I need them.”
“I’m assuming you got him back to his coven?”
“Yeah, they paid a pretty penny for him.” She smiled as she added, “Thinking of getting you your own set of training wheels so you can ride around the city. Oh, yeah, I—uh, I forgot about the holiday. Merry belated Christmas.”
“Not much to celebrate if you ask me,” I snapped.
She gave me a curious look, almost like she agreed with me.
All the cheeriness around this time of year made me grumpy and reminded me all too well of everything I lost. I had no family to celebrate with. What was the point in giving into all the traditions we adopted from the humans anyway? There were very few supernatural races who had an actual reason to celebrate anything in December. They just used Christmas as an excuse to take time off, party, and get gifts.
“You’re not alone in that thought.” She smiled again as she drank her coffee.
Her smile was contagious, and the longer I sat there with her, the more I relaxed. The dark blue eyes that had been so cold and hard the night we first met were softer now, filled with so much more than pent-up anger.
Smiling looked good on her and I wanted her to do it again. The conversation was slow at first, but once we got to talking, we were laughing and joking around as if we were old friends. We were on our third cup of coffee, and I was no longer hearing my brother’s voice. Instead, all I heard was Mercy.
We quieted down, hitting a lull in what had been a lively couple of hours. She poured more sugar in her coffee, grinning still, but I sensed she was holding back from telling me what was really on her mind. I was going to ask her, but she spoke first.
“Out on the sidewalk,” she said quietly, “you looked like you were trying to get away from something, or someone. Almost like you were being chased. You sure you’re alright?”
“I don’t want to burden you with my problems,” I grunted.
“You stayed by my side when I was thrown into some crazy dream shit and was nearly blown up with me,” she said with an arched brow. “I think I can hear you out, if nothing else.”
I told myself this was a bad idea, letting her in like this when she was keeping secrets, even now. But my mouth opened, and words poured out. “I grew up in the slums of Sector 2,” I started.
Her hand, in the act of stirring her coffee, stilled.
I let out a deep breath. “It was worse than whatever you heard, way worse. There were mages there who thought they had the right to keep us in line.”
“I thought the state cleaned up the slums, stopped the overlo
rds from taking over.”
I tapped my fingers loudly on the table. “After it was too late. I watched so many demons fall, so many more get killed.” The scars on my back gave a throb, and I winced. “Some of us tried to stand up to the mages and stop them, but there were never enough of us to make a difference.”
“The scars,” she whispered.
I nodded.
“You fought back.”
“I had to do something. Started when I was a kid. Watched my parents killed in the street and that was the start. They pushed us, I pushed back harder. I got older, and the fight grew until we had a decent number hard at work trying to take back Sector 2. Not like we had help from anyone else. Supes all have their own opinions of demons, and most of them are bad.” I pushed my mug aside, my stomach no longer in the mood for coffee. “We were on our own, and for a brief moment, I thought we had a chance to chase the mages out.”
Growing up a demon wasn’t easy anywhere, but the slums were the worst of the worst. Supes liked to think they were above humans, but I saw firsthand how much worse they could be. Power hungry, greedy, kicking those beneath them and always beating them down. There was no police force in the slums. There was just those with the power to keep others in check. They even guarded the transports, so there was no way for us to leave. And we had no powers, so all we could do was sit by and pray to live through the night.
Mercy was still, those blue eyes trained on me.
“I started a full-on revolt” I lowered my voice. “But their powers were too great. They beat us back and turned the tide.”
“How did you get out?” she asked, reaching across the table. Her hand rested on mine, comforting.
“A new governor had just been elected. Our current one. He came into all the slums and took down those in power. He started to make things right. Or at least, he tried to.”
Governor Rickshaw was a demon. It was a miracle he was elected in the first place. He knew how bad the slums were, having come from one himself. He’d made clearing them out his first order of business. The mages in charge of ours were arrested for their crimes, many sentenced to death and the others to life in prison.
“And then you found Nor,” she said.
“I did, but… but my brother didn’t make it out.” I squeezed her hand, needing to hold onto something. “Antonio. He was killed because of what I’d done.”
“It’s not your fault,” she told me.
I snarled, pulling away.
She held my hand tighter, not letting me. “You were trying to save him. To save everyone there. You can’t blame yourself for his death. And you can’t let it drag you down.”
“I caused it,” I mumbled, raw pain clawing its way through my soul.
“What does this have to do with what I saw on the sidewalk?”
“Nightmares,” I bit out. “Been having them ever since, but lately they’ve gotten worse. Can’t sleep, can’t eat… and I keep hearing him and seeing him everywhere.”
Her eyes widened, and she glanced around as if she would be able to see Antonio.
“He’s blaming me for what happened to him.”
“That’s your conscience. What changed?”
I frowned at her question.
“I mean what’s different? You weren’t like this a month ago.”
That, I didn’t have an answer for, at least not one I could share with her. She wouldn’t take it too well if I told her I made a vow the day Antonio died to kill every mage I ever met. Granted at the time, I’d been about ready to die myself and was pissed off at the world, but I said it I made the commitment. Somehow, it seemed my brother heard me, and now that I was around Mercy, he was coming back to make sure I kept my promise.
“I don’t know,” I lied. “Not like it’s been quiet around here.”
“Not really,” she agreed, and this time she pulled away, appearing very interested in her coffee again. “If you ever want to talk about them—the nightmares, I mean—you can always call me.”
“What? You don’t like our texting game?” I said, trying to tease.
She rolled her eyes.
“Thank you though, really. I might take you up on that.”
“You should.” She looked like she wanted to say so much more, but didn’t.
“Other than the vampire bites, you’ve been good?”
“Yeah, really good,” she said a little too quickly. “Keeping busy. Damian’s back to giving me a bounty every few days. So no downtime for me.”
“Mercy? I just dumped half my shitty past on you. You can talk to me.”
She swallowed hard and puffed out her cheeks. “Nah, it’s just residual crap from Todd. My magic’s still being on the wonky side. I have some bad days, but I’m dealing with it.”
“If you’re sure.”
She smiled, but it was fake, not even reaching her eyes. “I am. This was fun, by the way. We should do it again.”
“Guess we’re ignoring the deal we made, huh?”
“Guess so. What’s the point? Right?”
“Point?”
“Trying to stay away from each other. Obviously not working out too well.” Not that she seemed upset about running into me. “Your boss only give you today off?”
I tilted my head back and forth. “He wants me to either take time off or see the psychologist.”
“You chose time off, right?”
I picked up my mug and took a long sip.
She laughed sharply. “Seriously? You know all those shrinks are idiots, right?”
“What would you know about it?”
“I’ve had my fair share when I was in the system,” she replied. “Losing your parents and being cursed in the same night messes you up a bit, but you already knew that.”
The news startled me. “You never said your parents were killed that night.”
“Doesn’t matter. They were. And I was alone.”
“Mercy,” I said, but she stood and was putting her coat back on. “Your offer still stand?”
“Always,” she replied, but I couldn’t read the emotion in her eyes. “I like the beard by the way. Suits you better. See you around, Rafael. Don’t let your guilt drag you down.”
Then she was gone.
I finished my coffee, paid the bill, and figured I had to go home eventually. The walk back to my apartment didn’t take as long as I hoped. I stepped inside, waiting for Antonio’s voice to come back again, but it was quiet.
I removed my coat and boots, checking my cell when it went off to find a text from Mercy. She told me to have a beer on her and told me again she was there if I needed to talk.
One of these days, I’d have to tell her the kiss she thought we shared in a dream was real. Then again, simply sharing another one might not be a bad idea. If we kept this relationship of ours going, it might just end up that way. Which would be a surprise to us both. A good one at least.
We’d both come so far in so little time and yet there was so much more I wanted to learn about Mercy.
So much more I wanted to tell her.
All in good time.
All in good time.
Chapter 3
Rafael
“How does this work?”
It’d been a week since I saw Mercy at the coffee shop and for a couple days after, the nightmares stayed away. New Year’s Eve came and went, another uneventful night, and though I hadn’t met up with Mercy, she called me at midnight, and we talked for an hour or so about nothing at all. Hearing her voice had been enough. Antonio’s voice left me alone, and I made a note to try and see her again. I called her a few nights after that, not realizing it was the middle of the night, but I sensed the darkness closing in around me. She answered, not sounding annoyed at all and we simply talked for an hour until I was able to lay down and sleep.
I was doing well, really well, until two nights ago.
The nightmare came back, but this time it was worse, so much worse.
Every detail was so vivid, it was lik
e I lived those horrible moments all over again. When I awoke, the pain was so intense I couldn’t walk and fell getting to the bathroom. I’d experienced the torture it all over again, every magical strike to my back. Then Antonio’s death had come, as terrible as ever. When I eventually made it to the office, Nor took one look at me and sent me straight here to the psychologist’s office.
He was a fairy, surprise, and wore a bright fuchsia tie that was pissing me off for no real reason at all. He said he knew something about my circumstances thanks to Nor but wanted me to open up to him.
And for five minutes, we just sat there in silence until I asked my question.
“You just talk,” the fairy told me again, holding his pen and notepad with that smile that was borderline obnoxious.
“About what?”
“Whatever you want. What’s bothering you, your dreams, your past. Talking can be extremely therapeutic.”
That I knew, but it wasn’t this guy I wanted to talk to. It was Mercy. She texted me a day or so ago to say she picked up another bounty and would be off grid for a couple of days. She offered to see me before she disappeared, but I hadn’t wanted to take time away from her prepping for whatever trouble she was about to get into.
I’d checked my cell anxiously, hoping a text would be there from her, but my screen was blank. Was I ready for her to know my secrets? About the scars on my back?
“Rafael, I understand you might not think you need this, but it’s not hard to see you’re struggling. Talk to me. Curse, yell, rant, whatever you need to do,” Derrick the psychologist fairy insisted. “Whatever you have to tell me, I can promise I’ve heard worse.”
“Sure you have.”
“Try me.”
“Look, it’s bad enough I have nightmares. I’m not about to give them to someone else.”
Derrick jotted a quick note on his pad. “What happens in these nightmares?”
“It’s not what happens,” I growled. “It’s what I see.”
“Alright then. What do you see, Rafael?”
“My past,” I told him. “Every dark moment from my past when I was unable to save someone who needed saving. When I watched as the mages took control of my slum and tore my people apart until there was nothing left.”
