by Brianna Jean
The thought of any Demon getting near her at the party tonight sent him into a tailspin. He was gearing up for a fight, and I was ready to let him loose.
“This feeling? It feels exactly like it’s been described to me,” I replied, forcing my voice to sound neutral. “It feels like a mating bond.”
His back stiffened, his head lifting to the ceiling.
“Fuck,” was all he said before he threw the half empty bottle of whiskey clear across the space.
I watched with hunger in my eyes as his anger bled into the room, his torment leaking through the air like the scent of fresh bacon in the morning. I bit back a groan of pleasure, the hunger pains in my stomach evaporating as the bottle slammed into the glass window and shattered. Lanier’s emotions blew like smoke from the impact.
Glass rained; whiskey poured.
I fed.
“Alright, so here’s the plan,” Cabe said as we sat around our kitchen table later that night. His blond hair hidden under a black and white snapback, blue eyes bright and determined. We each had a beer and a slice of pizza in front of us. Mine was folded in half, dripping grease all over the marble tabletop. I think I dripped some onto my green joggers too, but I couldn’t care less.
“Hit me, baby,” I said around a mouthful of pizza.
He rolled his eyes, narrowing them at my caveman eating, but continued, “We don’t know much about this mission, only that we’ve been asked to get her back here so we could protect her. We don’t know what we’re protecting her from, so while this plan is horrible—it’s our only fucking shot.”
Lanier groaned, crossed his big ass arms over his chest, and closed his eyes, a mixture of unwanted concern and total annoyance on his face. My Bull was ready to burst through our barrier and take over just to find her himself. I couldn’t allow that. We had to get her through the Transition, and it would start in a few short hours.
Cabe took a bite of pizza and quickly wolfed it down before taking a large drink of his beer. “We need to let someone approach her. The only way we can get to her is if she realizes she needs help. That means we let her need us.”
I didn’t like it, not one bit. But I knew he was right.
I put my elbow on the table and set my chin in my palm. “And what do we do to make sure that just one Demon approaches her? You know the whole place will be clawing their way toward her. She’s fresh meat, totally clueless,” I stated, really fucking hoping this plan was more than just throwing her to the wolves and hoping she’d be able to handle it.
“That’s where we come in,” he nodded. “We can individually protect her by just being around her. Rile her up a little bit. The angrier she is, the better chance she will stand against someone coming at her. But we have to make sure we protect her without her knowing, or she’ll get spooked. She doesn’t trust us as it is, so if we’re hovering over her, it will only make it worse. Luckily for us, it’s our bar, so we make the rules. We fend off anyone that we don’t want near her, but we have to make sure we let at least one through. Just one. It’ll be enough for us to show up and save her. Then hopefully, we can get her to at least listen before it hits midnight. The Transition has already begun, so she’s probably feeling weird tonight—she will be hyper aware of her surroundings.”
“So basically, we’re just fucking winging it. That’s what you’re saying,” Lanier bitched.
“Once we get her alone, I have a plan. It’ll be me who gets her to come here with us. You’re just going to have to trust me,” Cabe replied before getting up from the table and walking into his room, not giving us a chance to question him further.
“What the fuck crawled up his ass and died?” I looked to Lanier who was staring after our brother with a murderous expression.
“I don’t know, but I really don’t fucking like it.”
That was the last thing we said to each other before we hopped into my Escalade later that night.
I had a feeling tonight would go nothing like we planned.
I spent the afternoon trying to decide what to wear. I had nothing nice; I didn’t even have anything new. I ended up going with my black leather pants, a tight white crop top, my leather jacket, and a pair of black pumps.
Joey agreed to go with me, though he was shocked that I wanted to go at all. I wasn’t typically the type of girl to go out clubbing, mainly because I didn’t have the money, but I wasn’t going to miss this opportunity.
The two of us jumped in a cab just before nine thirty and spent the silent car ride staring out the windows. I wasn’t in the mood to talk, and he knew better than to push me.
To my complete surprise, I heard Nikyee Heaton’s gravelly voice blaring from inside Hellhound as we stepped out of the cab. Her song “NBK” sent shivers down my spine as I took in the scene in front of me, the vibe of the song seeming to match the vibe of the bar itself. Joey was directly to my right, with his hand on my lower back, walking me toward the entrance.
Deep in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen, the structure was grungy and dark, dirty as hell, and not at all what I expected and yet, somehow, exactly how I pictured it. Bouncers stood like statues in front of the black painted front door. Both guys were well over six foot with at least twice my body weight. I didn’t let my nervousness show as I walked up to the one on the left. He took one look at me and opened the door, not even bothering to check my ID.
I didn’t miss the part where he seemed to sniff in my direction, his eyes widening just before darkening to a scary form of desire.
I inwardly reached for Bestia’s rough neck, risking her needle-like fur and holding on for dear life, silently praying to a god I didn’t believe in that I’d be able to pull her out from within me if I needed to tonight. I had no clue how to even begin that process or if it was possible, but a girl could dream.
I took a deep breath before looking around me. Bestia’s hackles rose under my palm as I took in the room.
The walls were made of shiny black marble, tiny rivers of silver flowing through the darkness of it like varicose veins, before fading into solid red velvet that made up the seating areas which lined the walls. Booths and tables hugged three of the walls around us, and in the middle sat twenty-something black marble tables surrounded by fancy, old-world looking, black chairs. The bar sat along the farthest wall, red lights strung underneath the shelves, giving it a demonic feel. The whole place seemed to be dripping in the color of blood, but it looked immaculate and classy.
We’d taken no more than one step into the bar before, one by one, heads started turning in our direction. I began to feel sick, sinking further into Joey. I hated leaning on him, but as I looked around, I knew right away these people were not Human.
Not a single one of them.
Horns, fangs, scaled skin, claws. We were surrounded by creatures.
By Demons?
“Joey—” I started to speak, ready to turn back around before a liquid gold voice spoke in front of me.
“Hi, Pup.”
I slowly turned my gaze in the direction of the melodic voice. Once I saw who it was, my stomach sank and my suspicion was confirmed.
“Quint,” I replied stonily, our temporary truce from last night disappearing. His molten lava gaze crashed into mine. “Somehow I knew I’d run into you here.”
“Well, it is my bar, sweet cheeks.” He flashed me a mind-bending smile. It oozed sex—every inch of him did. Wearing dark ripped jeans and a crisp white T-shirt with a black and white bandana tied around his neck, he lifted a hand and ran it through his platinum ash colored hair. It was messily styled against his head, itching to be played with. Those strange eyes explored mine, his smile slowly fading into a more serious expression as we stared at each other.
The feeling I got last night returned just as quickly as it vanished.
In the blink of an eye, I was speechless. I froze, completely fucking froze, as my eyes locked with his. I tried not to dig deeper, I tried as hard as I could to look anywhere but his soul, but his very core wa
s screaming at me, begging to be seen. Be heard.
I saw straight through his cocky exterior and gasped.
Oh.
His entire being was bathed in darkness, swirling with loneliness and uncertainty. It made my chest squeeze; my heart beat faster. I felt the strangest sensation in the pit of my stomach. It made me want to reach out and touch him.
No. No fucking way.
I tore my eyes from his, and he quickly schooled his features back to normal, giving me a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
My stomach flipped, and Bestia began whimpering and pacing in her cage.
“Annie, who the fuck is this?” Joey gritted out between his teeth. His hand reached down to grab mine.
I snapped out of my shocked state and pulled my hand back, straightening out my shoulders. I pushed past Quint and his hot gaze and began walking toward the bar.
“No one,” I replied over my shoulder. “Let’s get fucked up.”
As if on cue, the song changed. Bro Safari’s “Bender” kicked up the temperature in the room, changing the vibe. Bestia let out a low sound as we walked through the hazy room toward the bar. We passed through tables full of creatures. I assumed they were Demons, I just didn’t understand how it was possible. Each one of them looked like something out of a nightmare.
I inwardly groaned; I had gotten myself into some serious shit when I decided to come here.
I could feel Joey’s gaze on the back of my head, but I wasn’t sure he was seeing the same thing as I was, so I just kept walking. I took a seat on one of the black iron stools, turning to face Joey as he sat down.
“These people look strange to you?” I asked him casually. I wasn’t about to say any shit like, “You see the freak with the horns?” just in case he actually didn’t see what I did. I didn’t need to give him a reason to send me straight to the loony bin.
“No?” he replied, looking at me funny. Guess that answered my question. Maybe I should be sent to the loony bin. “I don’t think they look strange, but they sure as shit feel strange. It feels fucking slimy in here, Annie. Why are they all looking at you? Who was that guy?”
I hated that fucking nickname, but I let it go.
I wasn’t sure if I should tell him but didn’t have a solid reason not to. “I met three guys on my walk home last night, and he was one of them. It was a weird interaction. They didn’t hurt me or anything; I disabled them all pretty quick, but they said some shit that confused me. They said something about me not knowing ‘what’ I was. It didn’t make any fucking sense.”
As I explained last night to my ex, I was secretly hoping that he would have an explanation for me but already knew he wouldn’t. These guys weren’t of this world, and they wanted something from me, though I had no clue what it could be.
“Well, we all know your little super strength trick is kinda funky. Maybe they just saw you fight and wanted to ask how you can beat a girl to the ground without even batting an eye.” He laughed off my worry like it was no big deal.
“No, you don’t get it, Joe. It was more—”
“What can I get you, Vixen?” a voice interrupted.
Fuck me, that tone.
I turned to see a very angry Seafoam behind the bar. He looked as devastating as he had the night before, dripping with male confidence and brutality. His midnight black hair was a disheveled mess, the color nearly matching my own. Just a hint of blue when the light was right.
A tic in his jaw pulsed with barely contained rage, but he wasn’t looking at me—he was looking at Joey. He was glaring daggers at my ex-boyfriend, and I had to hold in my shocked laugh.
If looks could kill, Joey would be dead.
It wasn’t necessary though. “Hey, fucktard.” I snapped my fingers in his face, gaining his attention. “I believe you asked me a question.”
His hand came up between us to grab my wrist. As soon as his skin touched mine, he closed his eyes. My soul fucking sang, my breath catching in my throat as I stared at where he touched me. His anger seemed to fall off his face like water from a showerhead. His emotions rained down on me, giving me a taste of their intensity. My wrist was on fucking fire and yet, I couldn’t pull my hand away.
We both just stared at where our skin touched. It lasted all of three seconds before he threw my hand down with his brute strength—if I were a weaker girl, my ass would have been on the ground.
“Did you just call me Vixen?” I glared at him, my breathing oddly labored for doing no physical work. He glared right back. “What the fuck is up with you assholes calling me these goddamn nicknames? My name is Annalise. How about you just stick to calling me that.”
His lip upturned a fraction, hinting at a smile. His sharp features caught me off guard again, threatening to give him all the power. His face was so hard, so closed off, but he was beautiful...as if he’d been born on a bloody battlefield but was raised by dark royalty. “What do you want to drink, Vix?”
“For fuck’s sake.” I smashed my fist against the marble countertop, and some guy barked out a frustrated sound as his beer bottle toppled off the bar from the weight of my fist.
“Jesus, Anna,” Joey cursed, giving me a “what the fuck is wrong with you?” face before looking back to Seafoam. “She’ll have a vodka on the rocks. Slice of lemon. A thick one.”
Seafoam’s jaw clenched as Joey answered for me, but neither of us said anything as we glared at each other.
He pulled his bottom lip in his mouth and bit down until the skin beneath his teeth turned white. My focus was drawn to the spot he bit down on, a heavy concentration settling over me as I craved, salivated, fucking begged for him to break skin.
I wanted to see those pearly whites painted red.
What. The. Fuck?
“Annalise,” I heard another voice call from beside Seafoam. I growled a low sound as my gaze flew toward the intrusive voice—Blue Eyes. His stare was like a cold glass of water on a hundred-degree day.
I settled immediately with one look from him, a calmness floating in the air between us before it fell like a blanket over my shoulders.
I could feel the residual anger underneath the warm sense of calm, but I couldn’t access it.
What the fuck was happening to me?
Who are these guys?
I looked at Blue, taking in his honey blond hair, his deliciously tanned skin. He was a beautifully muscled version of the boy next door. Only with tattoos. He was stunning, but I wasn’t sure about anything else. I brought my eyes back to his, searching beneath the calm he was exuding and seeing past his walls.
I got lost.
I tumbled down into the depths of him until I saw straight into his soul and sucked in a breath. Turns out, beneath the impressive outside, he was magnificent on the inside. He was a calm I’d never experienced before. His soul wasn’t anywhere close to pure. In fact, it was dark and haunted, but I could see a white speck floating in its murky depths. My own soul clung to it—I wanted to take his essence with me and take care of it. Protect the piece of goodness he kept hidden like a dirty secret.
Or a precious one.
It was only when I heard him suck in a sharp breath that I pulled back to reality and saw his eyes wide and glimmering. That’s when I knew he was seeing my soul.
He noticed that mine matched his.
One speck of white.
But unlike his, mine was surrounded in flames. Flames that burned blue, the hottest setting. So hot that they threatened to char anyone who tried to come close. The flame was protecting what little innocence I had left.
I felt him try and reach forward to push past my walls, but I pushed back. I gave a hard shove, throwing him away from me and sending him crashing back to Hellhound.
He was pissed, even hurt.
I didn’t care.
The past four minutes were the most confusing of my life. These guys didn’t come without risk; they looked fucking delicious, but their attitudes screamed Trouble with a capital T.
“Dirt
y martini, extra dry, extra cold, two olives,” I said to Seafoam who was back to glaring daggers, but this time, he was looking at his friend.
I studied them, turning briefly to seek out Quint. He was standing by the front, talking to one of the bouncers, his impressive arms crossed over his chest as his eyes locked on mine.
I turned around, shaking off the weight of his stare.
Quint was sexy as sin, with a cocky exterior, but when he looked at me, it was with a staggering need—like he couldn’t believe I was real.
Seafoam burned hot with flames like mine, but he wanted a fight, wanted to push me to my limits and see what I’d do when he tried to break me.
And the last one, Blue Eyes, saw the little piece of purity I kept hidden. He saw me guard the broken, abandoned, little girl that I protected from the evils of this world. Much to my shock, he had one too—a hidden lost boy within himself.
And it seemed that Bestia—who was whimpering and pacing restlessly within me—wanted to know more.
She turned back to her ex-boyfriend as if she didn’t just rock our world, flipping it on its axis. We set this up, we got her here, but she brought the challenge with her. The same energy, the same vicious vibe she had the other night. She burned so bright I had to fight the urge to cover my eyes, but even if I tried, it wouldn’t matter, her flames would follow me into the dark. She was a force.
Because of that, I was about four seconds from reaching across this bartop, ripping my claws into her ex-boyfriend’s throat and tearing the flesh from his body.
No remorse.
He clearly still loved her. It was obvious to anyone with two eyes. But much to my fucking delight, she didn’t return the feelings. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the little creature was completely heartless.
Stone-cold.
Emotionless.
But I knew that wasn’t true. I could see right through the bullshit she fed everyone who tried to get close to her. She was just angry as hell and in a whole world of pain. I knew something about that.
