by Ashur Rose
The nearest booth was semicircular, and a pack of shifters in biker leather slouched over drinks. As Iain and Lilith passed, each of them raised a nose to sniff before huddling over their beers.
A server strode past balancing a round tray of sharp scalpels. She dressed like a naughty nurse with a white cap pinned at an angle on her black up-do. Her cropped top barely covered her breasts. It bore the badge “Donor.” She sashayed to a curtained booth. White hands reached out from behind, dragging her inside. Dark laughter issued as the curtain rattled back into place.
Four short men with long beards and dirty hands shared a small table, their drinks nearly submerged in a pile of glittering gemstones. Beyond them there was a round booth with its curtain pulled back. Iain headed there.
“This will do,” he said, gesturing for her to sit. His heart twinged at her wide-eyed expression.
“What the hell is this place?” she whispered.
Another server materialized tableside, all light green skin and wet, dark green hair that glistened. She wore a cropped wetsuit. “What’ll it be?”
Iain ordered “the usual” for himself and his brothers. “What are you drinking, Lilith?”
“Tequila.” She stared at the waitress. Lilith’s face paled, her hands quivering.
Iain said, “Better bring a whole bottle.”
The server winked and dematerialized. A second later, she reappeared with a full tray and set down the round. Iain dropped a bunch of bills on her tray without counting.
Hearing the tequila bottle rattling in Lilith’s hand, he took it from her and filled a double shot glass. She downed it. He poured another. She downed it. With a gasp, she sat back. Her cheeks were rosy.
“Don’t panic, della, you’re safe in here.” His hand ached with the desire to hold hers.
She reached toward him but quickly withdrew as Cree, Steele and Raze walked to the upper level from behind the bar.
Raze slid in next to Lilith. “He agreed to meet us.”
Cree and Steele sat at the ends.
With a slow burn, Steele took in the room. “I can sense shades close by, but I can’t pin them down. I think we’re safe enough here.”
“Great. Four exiled Dryg, Raze. What do we have to bargain with?”
“Exactly why he agreed to meet,” Raze said. “And why you let me do the bargaining.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
LILITH
LILITH DOWNED ANOTHER SHAKING shot, spilling most of the liquor. Shit, this place is weird, she thought. The only light came from candles and torches. Monsters sat at the tables. She wanted to nestle against Iain. Not for protection against the monsters. But because he looked so damned good sitting there, scanning the room in his shades, looking like the otherworldly watchman that he was. His hand was so close to her on the table that if he moved a finger, he’d touch her. So far he’d made good on his promise and kept his hands to himself, but she’d be damned if the heat darting between her legs made her want him to break that promise right now.
No, I want more than that. She wanted him between her legs, filling her up and making her scream out for more.
Damn it, what was wrong with her?
“You do this wrong, and we’re waiting tables for the next seven years,” Steele growled. “Fae bargains screw over everyone but the Fae. This, I know.”
Raze held up a hand. A man even thinner than the bouncer walked to the table and drew the curtain closed.
“Gentlemen. And lady. Always nice to mingle with the Empyrean working class.”
His flaxen hair stood straight up and wavered as if in a breeze. What she took for a green leather suit was actually made of thick leaves. A glow emanated from his pale skin. He snapped his fingers. “Jenny!”
The green waitress appeared with a drink on a tray. She smiled and set it down. “Your usual, boss.”
“Put it on the Drygs’ tab.”
She nodded and faded, leaving a damp feeling behind.
Magnus swirled his pale pink drink in its oversized martini glass. “So what do you gargoyles need from the Fae?”
Steele bristled visibly at the term, but Cree cut angry eyes at him.
“It’s not what we want, Magnus. We’re just the messengers.”
The Light Fae smirked and cocked his head. “That old bit. You want to dicker, we’ll dicker. You want to dick me, I’m gone.”
“We have information valuable to the Phyrss,” Raze said.
“Uh-huh.” Magnus sat and consumed his drink in a long swallow. Before he could set the glass down, Jenny appeared, grabbed it, and vanished. “So you’re bargaining on behalf of your goddess queen, or whatever the hell she is?”
Raze looked past the jab and sipped his beer. “Absolutely not. Our words have value to her. Great value. More than we can know, actually.”
“You expect me to bargain with the Phyrss?” Magnus laughed. “Forget about it, Stony.”
Raze shrugged. “Well, we can go elsewhere. Which will take a lot of time. The Phyrss won’t look favorably on that.”
“Don’t you threaten me, you bird shit magnet.” Magnus bared pointy teeth, making Lilith shove herself back in the booth. Iain leaned forward, covering her with his shadow.
“Threaten? No, these are extra bargaining points for you.” Raze spread his hands, palms up. “We can go through our regular channels, but this is vital intel. Think how appreciative She’ll be to get it straightaway.”
“Bullshit, you stone-skinned asshole. Reading between the lines, your Phyrss will be one pissed-off bitch if I don’t do this, right?” Magnus’ hair looked as if a storm had blown through it.
“I’m not saying that at all, Magnus.”
The space within the curtain burned with intense blue light. Magnus’ eyes went black. Lilith, caught off guard by the Fae’s shift in temper, broke her own rule and grabbed Iain’s hand. Iain made a throaty sound. A tremor extended from her palm to soar through her blood at the simple touch. She strained to keep from locking eyes with Iain. The Fae’s anger was enough to focus on.
“I’ll set this up for you sons of bitches, but I won’t forget.” Although the Fae didn’t move, the curtain blew open behind him.
“When, Magnus?”
He snarled and vanished, leaving only his voice behind. “Tomorrow.”
Lilith was a little relieved when the four enormous men sank into the booth with long, slow exhales.
“Glad we let you do the talking,” Cree said.
Steele downed his whiskey. “Not a good idea, fucking around with the Fae, Raze.”
“No choice.” Raze stared off.
Lilith scooted closer to Iain. He looked down at her, surprise and pleasure mingling on his rough features.
“Need to cull after that mess,” Steele said. “Where’s our waitress?”
Lilith took her hand from Iain’s and placed it under her nose. A woman had materialized amidst a fog of damp mildew smell drifting. Seaweed trailed from a bald scalp, and tiny eyes peered at them from deep brows, her face warted and wrinkled. She caught their stares.
“Sorry, boss’ orders. No more Pretty Jenny. You guys get the real deal now.” She cackled.
“You got willing subs here? I need a little something-something,” Steele said.
“Same here,” Cree said.
“No culling on the upper level. Private rooms are downstairs. Talk to Honey. She’s the insectoid at the hatcheck. Another beer?” She pointed at Iain.
He nodded.
“Oh, just so you know, the two drink minimum includes a second bottle of tequila. Be right back.” The hag vanished, the scent of damp rot remaining.
Iain’s three brothers rose. “Meet us out front, half an hour,” Raze said, rattling the curtain closed.
After the waitress did her serving fade, Iain stared into the amber depths of his beer. “It seems we’re breaking the no-touching rule.”
Lilith gave him a sidelong glance, embarrassed by how she chose to respond to Magnus’ outburst. �
��It wasn’t intentional.”
“Mm-hmm.” Iain sighed. “No need to apologize.”
“I wasn’t,” she said, nervously.
At that he lowered his drink and looked at her. He caught her hand and she didn’t try to pull away. “I really wish you wouldn’t do that.”
His face was all seriousness and she stared at him, confused. “Do what?”
“Bite your lip. I don’t think you realize what it makes me want to do to you.”
He ran his fingers up her arm and grabbed her tight around the elbow. She could feel the tension, the restraint in his touch and the tingle in her body suddenly raged. The air turned static, sending sparks of desire so intense throughout her that her clit throbbed. She started at him. Her chest hummed with a mutual awareness between them. If she were being honest, it had all always been there. Even from the time they’d first met. Even when she’d denied it.
“What are you doing to me?” she whispered.
“The same thing you’re doing to me.”
In one rough move, he pulled her across his lap without a care that they were in a club full of people. Her eyes felt magnetized to his lips. Without realizing it, she drew closer, pulling his shades down. She stared into his milky eyes, watching them change into a mesmerizing shade of green. With shaky fingers, she traced around his temple, along the curve of his jaw and across his lips. Her eyes lingered there a moment before meeting his gaze. “This is crazy. Right?”
“No, della.” His fingers caressed her jaw and gently drew her closer. “This is fated.”
Lilith pressed herself into him, locking lips in a grinding, heated kiss. Broad hands gripped her back, pulling her close. She gripped his neck, trying to meld her body with his. When his tongue probed, she moaned, her hand sliding down his hard abs, lower to the enormous throbbing cock barely contained by denim.
He groaned into her mouth, shifting his hips, his hands sliding down to grip her ass.
Screams and shattered glass broke the embrace. Both of them sat bolt upright.
“Demons.” Lilith sensed their presence nearby.
At the same time, Iain growled, “Shades. They’ve attacked The Sanctum.”
To her shock, Iain leapt to his feet, sending the wide table tumbling. Except he wasn’t Iain. In his place, a huge creature stood, its deep brow ridge shading glowing red eyes. Fangs jutted from his mouth. His skin looked like it was made of living stone, dark gray and rough.
“Stay here.” Iain threw the curtain closed as he moved.
For a second, she sat in shock. Then she grabbed the tequila bottle and took a long pull.
“Like hell I’m staying here.”
She jumped up, shoved the curtain aside, and headed toward the sound of the melee.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
IAIN
HE HAD TO DRAG himself away from her, eons of instinct for killing shades allowing him the leverage against his spectra. Shouts and crashes came from below. Iain bounded down the stairs, tossing aside his trench coat. Wings outstretched, he launched himself at the main bar.
Shifters, vampires, magi and fae folk pressed into the walls, hid under tables and ran for the throng at the exit. Two of the wait staff flogged a flaming table with a big overcoat to kill the fire. On the dance floor, Lucius the bouncer cast a spell like a roman candle in a snow globe. In his right hand, a blue orb levitated, awaiting launch.
Shades were invisible to the Fae, as they were to nearly all. Iain had other senses to guide him. Three of the Nether-spawn surrounded the bouncer, held at bay by the incandescent magic. In the corner, Jenny the waitress, back in her younger form, swung a torch in a circle. Pitch spilled, and more smoke drifted in the air. Iain could sense that she swung at nothing.
On stage, the mermaids submerged, their elaborate harps floating on the surface of their thousand-gallon tank. Steele took center stage, fully Dryg, granite muscles flexing as he ripped the arms from a screaming shade.
Iain dived toward the nearest shade menacing the bouncer. With a quick twist of his massive, clawed hands, he broke the creature’s neck. Ears and nose alert, he located the other two, their dim auras barely visible. “There!” he shouted to Lucius, pointing one out.
The Fae launched his blue sphere, the shade catching it mid-chest. Steaming and burning, it fell to its knees, disintegrating into black smoke. Iain grabbed the other by the neck and right thigh. Lifting it off the ground, he knelt, and with a single motion, brought the creature’s back down hard over his knee. With a satisfying crunch, the shade’s spine separated.
Iain knew that as the shade’s polluted aura faded, it would become visible to others. More screams shook the club as the patrons caught sight of the vile thing. Even the most inhuman of the guests and staff rarely, if ever, dealt with creatures straight out of the Nether.
“Help your customers get the fuck out of here,” Iain shouted at Lucius.
With a nod, the Light Fae dissolved to reappear at the exit.
Raze bowled across the dance floor from a curtained room, two shades’ necks in his claws. Roaring and spitting, his Dryg brother crushed the life from his enemies, their auras blinking out.
“Where are they coming from?” Iain shouted the question.
“All over.” Raze rose, fangs bared. “Coming through the emergency exits off the alley and in the back.”
Which explains why the crowd fled to the front doors, Iain thought.
Cree appeared in a doorway behind the bar, a dying shade in his claws. Tossing it aside, he leapt to Jenny’s side.
“Love, you need to get out of here, understand?”
Jenny, torch in both hands, spun toward him. Gaping at the granite-faced Dryg, she paused, then nodded. He took the spitting torch from her. “Are there other emergency exits other than the alley and parking lot?”
“No, just those two.”
“Access to the dungeon from outside?” Cree pressed.
The dungeon occupied The Sanctum’s cellar, the sweating, earthy chambers a comfort to many otherworldly species. Jenny shook her head and Cree sent her toward the fleeing crowd.
“I’ll take the back exit; Steele, take the alley.” Raze pointed. “Cree, Iain, start at the north side and flush any others out.”
The dance floor was wide enough for Iain and Cree to spread their wings and fly across the smoke-filled expanse. In silent agreement, Iain took the west doorway, Cree moving east and backstage. The maze-like layout—filled with private nooks and secret rooms—was the draw of The Sanctum. But it left far too much cover for the shades.
Iain quickly moved down a winding hall to the far wall, zigzagging, flinging aside curtains across alcoves, shoving doors wide. Ears attentive for clawing footsteps, nose seeking the brimstone and corrosive odor, he searched for lingering foes. His corner of the building proved unoccupied, and Iain worked his way toward the center.
“Brother!”
Cree’s shout started Iain’s feet racing. Beneath the back stairs to the upper level, a dozen auras the color of diseased excrement surrounded Cree, bearing him to the floor. Fists and claws broke the surface of the swarming hoard, but Cree had no leverage.
Before Iain could reach him, the shade nearest the stairs staggered back. Its filthy aura swirled with blue-white streaks. The intense light grew to completely submerge the shade. With a scream, it burst into smoke.
A second Nether-spawn succumbed to the same fate, dropping to the floor in a steaming, smoking pile. Iain reached the fight, grabbing the closest to him by the head and ripping it from a neck.
Cree came to his feet, surging through the mass of attackers. Striking with bone-breaking impact, Cree brought down two more in short order.
Iain gut-punched another, his fist plowing aside organs to crash against a spine. Spitting, vomiting, the shade dropped to his death. As he set on another, the demon suddenly burst into the strange, blue-white aura fire.
As one, Iain and Cree glanced up the stairs.
“Ah, shit,” Iain bre
athed.
Lilith moved from the upper level one slow step at a time. Her hands were raised in front of her, a semi-sphere of blue energy wavering in the air before her like a bow-wave.
“Get out of here, love!” Cree shouted.
The shade Cred had by the throat erupted in intense light. Cree shoved it away, waving his smoking hand from the heat. After a split second of indecision, Cree shrugged. “Okay. Whatever.” He then drove his fist with tooth-smashing force into the face of the next foe within reach.
Iain wanted to go to Lilith, but more shades joined the fray. “There must be another entrance,” he shouted to Cree.
They raced in from backstage, from the bar storage, from down the hall Iain had just policed. As there were too many to count, he merely grabbed the first attacker by the face, crushing the bones.
“Steele!” Cree shouted. “Raze!”
The space was overwhelmed, shades crawling over each other to join the battle. Iain became a killing machine, his right fist, left claws, the spikes on his wingtips, his knees, and his feet each a lethal weapon. Fatal blow followed fatal blow; the landing piled up with corpses.
Cree was no less able, whirling, clawing, kicking, his dancelike motions like a lawnmower blade through thick grass. Thunderous footsteps echoed over the squealing, pounding horde. Steele and Raze shouted battle cries as they attacked.
Above, Lilith continued down one more tread. Her blazing energy killed another shade, and it burned like it had been doused in lighter fluid. Like Cree, Steele and Raze gaped for a moment, then shrugged off their amazement and plowed into the battle.
Raze dropped an elbow on the back of a shade’s neck, nearly decapitating him. Steele’s clawed hand ripped through the abdomen of a second.
None of the shades spun to attack the Banes joining the fray. Instead, they surged against Cree, piling on him again. Scrambling and clawing, they made for the stairs.
Lilith, Iain realized, dread piercing him like a cold blade. The shades were after Lilith.
