by Nadine Mutas
“No.” She shook her head again, her energy trembling with flickers of cold, and tugged on her arm once more. “No. I’m fine. I’ll be okay. I can figure this out on my own.” Her face twisted into a sneer. “I don’t need a demon to help me out.”
“That’s exactly what you need, seeing as you’re turning into one yourself.”
She flashed her teeth at him, her eyes a storm of red and black. “I. Am. Not.”
She didn’t signal her move, not a twitch giving away her intention. So when her fist hit his solar plexus with the force of a pissed-off, martial-arts-trained female, there was only one logical result. He wheezed, doubled over, and fell to his knees. If he were human, that blow would have him curled up in a fetal position for long, long minutes. As a demon, it still incapacitated him for about half a minute.
Enough time for Lily to get away.
Chapter 4
Note to self: before you start running away in a brainless frenzy, make sure you have shoes on.
Lily leaned against the side of a building, her breath sawing in and out of her lungs, and gingerly lifted one foot to look at the damage. Good grief in a fuck-it bucket. The bare skin of her sole resembled a plowed field. She set the foot back down, grimacing at the pain.
For a moment, she let her head rest against the wall behind her, listening to her pulse roar in her ears.
You’re turning into a duhokrad demon…it looked like you were about to kill your brother…you’re hungry and driven by instincts…you’ll need to feed tonight…
The demon’s words echoed in her mind, a swirling, confusing, irritating mess of messages she felt no inclination to make sense of. He—what did he say his name was? A-something. A…lek—was clearly certifiable. Demons weren’t turned like vampires. They were born, a separate species. There was no way in hell a witch could just transform into a demon.
Although something was playing havoc with her system, that was for sure. And it obviously had to do with whatever that other life leech shot her with. But turning her into a demon? Laughable. She just needed some time to figure this out by herself. Or maybe…with help.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed away from the wall and studied her surroundings. She hadn’t noticed much where she ran, fleeing as if in a trance, but apparently she’d made it right into downtown Portland. On foot. Barefoot.
Cringing when her soles touched the concrete, she took a few careful steps while orienting herself. Ouchouchouch.
The large illuminated sign of Powell’s World of Books loomed just a block ahead. Wow. Within a few minutes, she’d run a distance that would normally take at least a half an hour on foot. Or maybe her sense of time was off. Like everything else about you, hm?
She heaved an annoyed sigh and half-sat on a railing, putting one foot up on her other knee to ease the pain. Okay, let’s think this over. She needed to find a place to recuperate and then start figuring out what the hell happened and how to fix it.
Home was not an option. Just thinking about her mom and Baz—Baz!—and facing them after what she’d done gave her hot flashes of shame. And what would she say? Oh, hi, bro. Really sorry about trying to choke you to death, no hard feelings, right? Just FYI, though, it might happen again, because even now I’m feeling the urge to suck the life out of you.
And she did. Every time she thought back to that moment, the only thing stronger than her guilt and shame was that unrelenting hunger, that drive to take, take, take.
Kill.
“Shut up,” she whispered and buried her face in her hands, trying to stifle that insidious voice in her head. “Shutupshutupshutup.”
Where else could she go? Merle’s? If she were to confide in anyone, it would be her best friend, and Lily knew Merle wouldn’t judge her, would help her out, no questions asked. If only Merle lived closer, but it was even farther from here to the MacKennas’ than it was to home. Lily couldn’t walk that distance, not with these shredded feet. She couldn’t hail a cab, because she had no money on her. Her cell phone lay happy and useless in her purse…which she’d left at home. And modern times being what they were, with everyone so dependent on having their mobile devices handy at all times, she didn’t even know her best friend’s phone number by heart, so she couldn’t ask to use someone else’s phone to call her.
She was well and truly stranded in a big city in the middle of the night, with nothing but the slinky club dress she was wearing, which probably gave people all the wrong ideas about her profession.
The clicking of high heels on concrete made her look up. A college-age girl was walking down the street, keys in one hand, shooting her a furtive glance as she passed.
Lily’s heart beat triple time. Her vision narrowed on the human female, on the strong, delicious glow of her life force. Warm, golden, and so, so enticing.
Take.
Eyes on the human, she stood.
The female stepped up to the entrance to the apartment building a few doors down. The keys jingled in the night as she unlocked the door. She threw a look over her shoulder at Lily, and startled. With a soft noise of fear, she opened the door, slipped inside and slammed it shut.
Lily trembled where she stood, realizing she’d stalked the girl several feet. Skin clammy, her stomach a torrent of despair, she raised her hands, stared at her claws, the smears of blood where they had sliced out of her fingertips.
Her breath left her in a rush.
This is not real. Not. Real.
Someone grabbed her from behind, an arm snaking around her waist. With a snarl, she delivered an elbow strike to whoever was attacking her, and when the guy grunted and released her, she whirled around and swung at him.
The stranger blocked and retreated a step, hands raised in a signal of peace. “Sorry, thought you were human.”
Her heart skipped a beat, the words But I am stuck in her throat. She studied the guy, his demon aura brushing her senses. Human-looking, he belonged to the hirudo species, a nasty race of demons who fed off humans’ hopes and dreams and other positive feelings. Wouldn’t be too much of an issue if that was all they did, but the effect of the feeding was where the nasty came in. A hirudo actually drained the human of these feelings, leaving the victim with only negative thoughts and a vicious depression that often led to suicide.
“You know,” the hirudo said, sidling closer again, “I usually don’t go for demon females, but for one fine as you, I’d make an exception.” He tilted his head, his gaze raking over her, then focusing on her cleavage. “I’d love to see how far down those markings of yours go.”
“Excuse you?”
“Hey, if it’s a matter of price, I can pay.”
Her claws slid out some more, the sting of it welcome. “I am,” she ground out through clenched teeth, “having the worst night of my life. The last thing I need is to be propositioned on the street like I’m a hooker.”
“All right, all right, no need to get bitchy.” The demon raised his hands again, palms out, and backed away. “If you change your mind, you can find me at Nine Circles.” He nodded down the street behind him and then walked off in that direction.
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
By all rights, this meeting should have ended in bloodshed, and not because of the way the dick talked to her—though that did make her want to smash his face in. His kind didn’t hit on witches. If they did, it was the literal hit a witch, as in, beat her to death before she can kill you. A hirudo and a witch running into each other? Fight to the death, every time.
But that was the thing, wasn’t it? He didn’t think she was a witch.
While all the details she couldn’t explain away anymore slowly trickled through the wall of denial in her brain, she trudged down the street, only half-aware she was going in the same direction as the hirudo demon.
What if that life leech—Alek—was right after all? What if she was indeed turning into one of his kind? Just for argument’s sake… She swallowed hard, her throat constricting to the point of pain. Involuntaril
y, she looked down at her right shoulder and studied the beautiful, weird markings that looked like a cross between Chinese characters and Arabic script.
What’d he call them? Ruzz-vee-tee or something like that. The color was that of a faint henna tattoo, only a shade darker than her natural light tan. When it fades until it’s nearly the same color as your skin, you die. Alek’s words whispered through her mind, made her heart stutter.
Then her stomach growled loud enough to wake half of Portland. A clammy sensation clung to her skin, and shivers racked her limbs. She grew lightheaded, as if she hadn’t eaten all day. Darkness crept in from the edges of her vision. Blinking to clear her eyes, she stumbled over a crack in the concrete. Where normally a missed step like that wouldn’t have done more than make her gait falter for a second, it was now enough to send her flying toward the pavement.
She was barely able to twist so she’d land on her ass instead of kissing the concrete. Pain exploded in her hips, her bottom, and her palms, which she’d used to steady herself. Gods dammit, she’d never been that clumsy. Breathing hard, she got to her feet with a groan. Little lights danced in front of her eyes.
What if it was true? What if she needed to feed, take someone’s duh just to survive the night?
Oh, gods. She tried to stifle the nausea turning her stomach into a cauldron of puke-a-lot.
A movement farther down the street caught her attention. Someone was walking in her direction. Her senses sharpened, homed in on the potential prey…yes, human. Her mouth watered. Her breathing flattened, nostrils flaring as she picked up the scent carrying on the breeze. Intoxicated. Easy prey.
“No.” Lily spun around, pressed against her temples with her hands balled to fists. “Snap out of it.”
Eyes wide, she scanned the street, was about to run in the opposite direction of the approaching human just to get the fuck away from temptation, when her attention snagged on the illuminated sign of a bar—Nine Circles. Her breath stuck in her throat. No way.
She knew that building. The old two-story housed an appliances repair shop that no one ever seemed to frequent, or at least she’d never seen anyone going in or out when she walked past. She had definitely never seen a bar on the ground floor. She’d gone down this street a few days earlier, and there hadn’t been any construction.
There was something in the air around the perimeter of the bar… She squinted and walked closer. Power. Magic shimmered along the lines of the building, and it held the distinctive hallmarks of demon magic.
She sucked in a breath. The bar was protected by wards, demon wards. Which would explain why she’d never noticed it before when she was a wit—Realization stung her heart. Shaking her head against the onslaught of emotions barreling through her crumbling wall of denial, she stalked forward on an impulse.
Without giving second thoughts time to catch up, she yanked open the door and stepped gingerly into the bar.
Warm, moist air enveloped her. The door clunked shut behind her, and though it was darker inside than outside, her eyes adjusted immediately. There was a bar stacked with booze to her left, and what looked like several separate seating areas taking up the rest of the space. The different, almost secluded, sections each had a distinctive design in colors and shapes that distinguished it from the others. A sign hung from the ceiling in the middle of each seating area. The one closest to her read Limbo, the next one over Lust, followed by Gluttony.
Pieces clicked together in her head. Nine Circles… The bar’s theme was Dante Alighieri’s Inferno. At least demons appreciated irony.
The patrons scattered across the pub barely looked up when she entered, and went right back to their business as usual. Demon auras brushed up against her senses. She registered a few other energy signatures as well, shifters and nymphs, maybe, but the majority of the guests were demon.
The last pieces of her wall of denial collapsed in on themselves. This…the fact she was standing here unchallenged…was impossible in and of itself. Any other time before tonight, if she’d walked into this bar by herself—as a witch—she’d be buried under a pile of hostile demons by now, exhaling her last breath.
Get a move on. You can throw your pity party later.
Drumming up her courage, she strutted straight to the bar and signaled the demon behind it, who was busy putting together a cocktail. He came over and nodded in greeting, shaking the mixer.
“Hey,” Lily said, “I’ve got a question and was wondering if you could help me out. Do you know if anyone here tonight works for the Demon Lord?”
The bartender—a burly guy with a huge jaw, two of his lower canines extending out of his mouth and almost touching his nose—frowned down on her.
Agh, he was clearly not too happy about her nosiness. She gave him a charming smile and leaned forward a little, not so much as to seem too obvious, but enough to give him a great view of her cleavage. A girl had to use her assets.
The frown melted away, and he raised his brows, an appreciative glint in his eyes. He jerked his head toward a corner booth in the Lust section. “Guy in the red shirt.”
“Thanks a lot, sweetie.” She tapped the bar and walked over to the booth.
The guy in the red shirt was a shifter of some sort, gleaming black hair, light brown skin, up-tilted eyes which were currently focused on his cell phone while he lounged in his seat. Another male—human-looking, blond hair and light skin—sat on the opposite side of the booth, his aura giving him away as demon.
Lily stopped in front of the table and cleared her throat, one hand resting on her hip. “Hey.”
“Thanks, luv, but I’m not buying,” the shifter said, without deigning to look up from his phone.
“I am,” the demon piped up, straightening in his seat.
Anger rushed through her veins like a wave of sparks. Her face heated, and she had to clench her hands to fists to keep her claws from slicing out. “I heard you work for Arawn?”
The shifter still didn’t raise his eyes. “He doesn’t solicit hookers either.”
“I do.” The demon leaned forward.
Her feet ached. Every cell in her body was screaming at her to feed, and her internal organs felt like they’d at some point started to digest themselves. She was dying of shame after almost killing her brother, and reeling with the uncertainty of what was happening to her. And here she was, being mistaken for a hooker. Again.
She snarled and turned to the demon. “I am not a sex worker, and if you don’t stop ogling me like one, I’ll punch your eyes so far down your head, you’ll be shitting them out tomorrow.”
The demon gulped and sat back slowly.
She faced the shifter again, who had finally looked up from his phone and now studied her with mild curiosity. “I need to get in touch with a demon who works for Arawn. He’s a li—a duhokrad, like me.” Phew, good save, there. “His name’s Alek. Do you know him?”
“Maybe. Why do you want to talk to him?”
Lily gave him a sweet smile. “Duhokrad business.”
“What’s in it for me?” He put an arm on the backrest of the booth, dark eyes fixed on hers.
Ah, crud. She had no money to bribe him. Well, time to take a risk. “Avoiding a broken nose when Alek finds out you refused to put me in touch with him?”
He stared at her for a long moment, then chuckled. Humor glinted in his eyes, revealing a devastatingly handsome side of him. “You’ve got balls, luv. All right. What’s the message?”
A sigh of utter relief slipped out. She glanced around, grabbed a nearby chair, pulled it up to the table and plopped down, easing her aching feet. “Can you call him right now? Tell him I’ll take him up on his offer.”
The shifter cocked a brow, one side of his mouth tilting up in a suggestive half smile.
She bristled and clenched her teeth. “Not that kind of offer.” And without looking at the demon on the other side of the booth—who’d perked up again—she pointed a finger at him and growled, “Don’t even.”
&nbs
p; Grinning, the shifter made the call. “Hey, Alek. Listen, I’m at Nine Circles and I’ve got a duhokrad female here who’s looking for you. Goes by the name of—” He gave her a prompting nod.
“Lily.”
“—Lily,” the shifter repeated. “She says—” He stopped, blinked, and held his phone away from him to stare at the screen. “Wouldn’t even let me finish. I hate it when people interrupt me. So rude.”
She barely kept herself from bouncing in her seat. “What’d he say?”
The shifter pocketed his phone. “He’s on his way.” He gave Lily a slow once-over, frowning at her legs. “Why are you barefoot?”
Fading.
Lily stared at her demon tattoo above the neckline of her dress. The signs had become lighter again. The marking was fading more and more. Shit.
“Whatever you’re hoping to find in there, I could help you look for it.”
She looked up from her cleavage at the shifter’s buddy in the booth seat and slowly said, “Well, I could suck you…”
The demon straightened, a happy grin spreading on his scraggy face.
“…dry of your life force,” she finished, giving him a saccharine smile. “I am hungry, you know. Ravenous, really. So, you offering?”
His color turning ashen, the demon cleared his throat and scooted back in the booth seat. The shifter chuckled and sipped his drink.
Smirking, Lily leaned back in her chair. She’d only guessed life leeches were feared among demons as well, but it was good to know for sure. And she’d be damned if she told that jerk she didn’t have the slightest idea if she could actually take his duh, or even how to feed at all.
