by Mila Young
“I don't miss shopping,” I admit. “Never had the money for it anyway.”
She jumps up on her feet. “Geez, how rude of me. I didn’t even offer you coffee!”
“Yes, please!” As she busies herself, I recline and let my mind wander to what life might be like if I lived here.
Freedom.
Not being watched every day or needing permission to leave the house.
Probably scraping by on some meager dead-end job to pay the bills.
I push off the couch and go stand at the kitchen door, propping a shoulder against the wall. As I guessed, all the appliances are new, the stainless steel shining still like it’s just been unwrapped.
“I got a job,” I say.
“Really? They let you work? Where?” She spoons coffee granules into two cups as the kettle heats up. She’s never been a fan of filter coffee and loves her Nescafe.
“At Purgatory.”
She drops the empty spoon in her hand onto the tiled floor. “At the sex club? Isn’t that place by invite only? Don’t tell me they are pimping you out, or I will seriously kick their asses.”
I snort a laugh, loving her protectiveness. “Cain, one of the demons I live with, owns Purgatory, and he gave me a job taking orders and delivering drinks. I get a bit of pocket money and it gets me out of their mansion. Anyway, I work with this girl who’s dating a master vampire, and she’s really kind to me.”
She collects the spoon and tosses it into the sink, the metal on metal clanking loudly. “I heard there are rooms where guests can go and have sex.”
“They’re called the Red Rooms, and it’s pretty accurate. On my last shift, Man Swell was there, and women booked private sessions with them in the rooms. Did you know they are dolphin shifters?”
“Shut up! They are not!”
I nod as her surprised expression reminds me how much I’ve missed just gossiping with her about anything and everything.
“I suddenly feel dirty having drooled over fish. Tell me more.” As she pours hot water into our cups, I take the chance to give her a quick rendition, remembering Elias waits outside.
By the time we sit down and sip on the nutty coffee, I turn to Joseline. “Hey, listen, I wanted to ask you something about Murray.”
She drinks her coffee, looking at me over the rim of her cup, and nods with her dazzling hazel eyes.
“Recently I got ahold of some paperwork showing I was abandoned at the hospital after I was born.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” She reaches out and places a hand on my thigh.
“I’ve been trying to find out a bit more about my parents. Maybe get an idea why they did what they did? So, I thought, you and Murray were close… Did he ever mention something to you in passing about my background?”
Her lips purse and pinch to the side of her mouth. “Geez, half the time I didn’t listen to his waffling. I know he did his best to look after us, but he was a selfish bastard. He once tried to convince me to visit someone’s house and take” —she pauses to put her coffee cup down so she can curl her fingers into air quotes—"‘something from their personal belongings’ so he could trade it for his gambling habit.”
My stomach twists. “Oh wow. I didn’t know.”
“He backed off when I told him to go shove it where the sun don’t shine. Anyway, aside from that, the only thing I can think of is he once made a strange comment about you I ignored.”
I lean in close. “What was it?”
“Something about being paid well to take you under his care. I just assumed it referred to those measly government paychecks he got for fostering us. Though in hindsight, it was strange he only mentioned you, not me.”
I sink into my seat, lowering my gaze to my lap, trying to piece it all together. He was paid to foster me? That didn’t make sense.
“Anything else?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Sorry, babe.”
“It’s fine. Just another piece of the puzzle I’m working on.” I smirk and set my cup down on the coffee table, then get up. “Just need to pee. I’ll be back,” I say, heading down the corridor to the bathroom.
“Cool. I’ll get us some cookies,” she calls out.
My mind swirls with uncertainty, disappointment sinking through me that I didn’t find more information. That’s another reason I should come back and visit her. I’m sure Elias is getting antsy outside.
Strolling past Joseline’s room, I can’t help but glance inside. She’s always been a mess-maker back home. Clothes strewn on the floor, drawers open, bed covers a tangle… except that’s not what I find.
My feet stop moving and lock in place in the doorway of her bedroom. I am staring at a damn pentagram painted on the wooden floorboards, sticking out from a rug that hasn’t been fully rolled flat. Something in my stomach tightens. Since when has Joseline been into dark magic? She was born a witch and practiced white magic mostly… the small stuff, like putting positive energy around her. But I’ve never seen her use any symbols like this before. Unless she’d hidden it from me.
A quick glance over my shoulder shows she is in the kitchen with her back to me, so I slide inside. A huge four post bed fills half the room with dark mahogany wood and satin blue sheets. Fancy. Expensive. Like the rest of the apartment now. Did her friend buy her a new bed as well?
I scan the rest of the room. Bookshelves crammed with books and black candles, including a skull-shaped crystal ball. That is totally her. The table by the window has several parchment papers and scrolls, and curiosity draws me closer.
I examine the flattened-out scroll, running my finger over words I don’t understand. At the top is a circle with another inside, the letters surrounding it too faint to make out. And in the middle is a strange shape, almost like an obese slug with no head curling around an arrow. No wait, there’s an eye. Whatever it’s meant to be, it’s freaky. Nearby is a bowl of small bones, and my skin crawls.
What is Joseline doing with this stuff? She once told me she never uses bones in spells, as it draws negative energy. Ice fills my veins that maybe my friend is messing around with something dark.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Joseline’s abrupt voice has me jumping in my skin.
I jerk around, fire scalding my cheeks as panic sets in. “Just wanted to check out your new furniture.” I curse myself for sounding so lame, and she looks at me with a stoic expression like she sees right through my lie. I might as well come out with it. “What’s with the pentagram and bones? Are you going into the dark stuff?”
She huffs and strolls in to join me. “Most of it is my roommate’s. She swapped rooms when her other roommate moved out—she wanted the other since it’s attached to the bathroom. But she hasn’t moved all her crap yet.”
“So she’s a witch too?”
She nods. “She’s in a new-age coven. Super secretive, but they’re into some exotic stuff. I try not to judge.” She simply blows it off and smiles, heading out the room. “You coming?”
I’m not sure what to make of her response, but now I worry that her new roommate is leading her into the dark arts. “Listen, if you want to talk about anything, I want to be here for you. I’m going to ask the demons to bring me over so we can catch up more often. What do you think?”
“Yes. I’d love that. But seriously, babe, I’m all good, and in fact—”
A loud knock at the front door steals her words. I sigh, well aware who it is. “I think that’s my signal to leave.”
She frowns, her lips pinching. “You need to come back, and for longer next time. Promise me?”
“Of course.” We make our way into the living room, but the unease of what I found in her bedroom doesn’t leave my thoughts. She opens the door as I slip back into my shoes and look up to Elias, who fills the entrance doorway.
“Time we left,” he says, his expression serious, even as Joseline stares up at him.
“I’m Joseline by the way,” she says to him, extending a hand in greeting.<
br />
He just stares at it, his lip curling slightly. “Elias.”
Silence.
“Okay, well I better be off,” I say and hug Joseline amidst the budding tension. “Please take care, and I’ll try to call soon.”
“You better.” She smiles, and with a final wave, I head down the corridor with Elias.
“We need to work on our social skills,” I say.
“Why? I said hello back. It’s more than I normally do.”
I roll my eyes at him. When we reach the front of the apartment, I glance back and look up to Joseline’s window. I hope she’s not doing something really stupid.
Chapter Twenty
Dorian
The moment the limo pulls up in front of the mansion, I breathe easier.
“They’re finally home,” I holler and thump the top of our car to let Cain know. He’s been waiting inside, but my excitement for a possible fight has me bouncing on my toes.
Ever since Elias and I found Sir Surchion’s hideaway, I’ve been ready—ready to take back what’s ours and taste some sweet, sweet revenge.
Cain hopes we don’t run into the collector this time. He doesn’t want to make a fight out of nothing, which surprises me. Cain’s always loved getting his hands dirty, but I know what’s changed this time. Aria.
She took quite a beating with Sir Surchion and the Full Mooners the last time they crossed, and then again with the snake shifters in the swamps. As much as he tries to fight his feelings for the girl, he doesn’t want to risk her safety again. He’d leave her behind if he could, but we need her. So, the goal this time is to go to the harbor, sniff out the relics, nab them, and get out. Dragon free.
The window rolls down, and Cain’s glare finds me immediately. “Is there a reason for all that banging?”
Aria and Elias get out of their limo and stroll over to us. The smiles on their faces tell me two things—they had a good time, which I can confirm by the bright red color surrounding them both, and they forgot we’re on a tight deadline here.
My insides are buzzing with too much pent-up energy. All the extra souls we ate in preparation for this isn’t helping either, I’m sure. “Let’s get this moving, people! A little more pep in that step.”
Smiles fading, they glance at the Town Car, confusion wrinkling both their foreheads. But then the answer seems to come to Elias. His eyes widen.
“Oh shit,” he says.
“Yes, exactly,” I say. “We’ve been waiting on you. Now get in.”
The idea of a pending fight has Elias’s wolfish amber eyes flashing.
“Stand down, big boy,” I remind him. “Remember. We are just taking back our stuff, not killing the bastard.”
Elias curls his hands into balls. “I don’t see why not.”
“Wait,” Aria cuts in, her voice trembling slightly. “Where are we going?”
Oh man. I’d forgotten we hadn’t told her of our plans yet. I glance at Cain for backup.
She wraps her arms around herself and shivers. “We’re going to kill Sir Surchion and get the relics back, aren’t we?”
“Hopefully it doesn’t come to that,” Cain replies from inside the car. “The relics are the most important thing. That’s our main objective.”
And keep Aria safe. I can hear his unspoken concerns, even though he doesn’t utter them out loud. He doesn’t need to. I know him well enough.
Cain opens the car door and slides all the way in. I wave for Aria to climb in the back with us while Elias takes his place by the driver.
Once inside, I close the door. The Town Car is larger than a normal sedan and much more roomier than any of my sport cars, but between me, Aria, and Cain, it’s still a bit cramped. I don’t understand why we couldn’t have just taken my Audi, at least. It was faster if we needed to get out quick.
The driver pulls away from the house and heads toward Dawson. Everyone is anxiously quiet, all preoccupied with their own thoughts. Aria’s mouth is twisted into a sickened grimace, and she looks a bit paler than before. I’d bet money she’s thinking about her last run-in with Sir Surchion, too. I know I am. I still have the burn scar on my face from the bastard.
“So, what’s the plan?” Aria asks, trying to break the stifling tension. “I just… walk around and try to feel for the relics?”
Cain nods and answers without even looking at her. “Elias and Dorian will scour the perimeter and ensure Sir Surchion isn’t around so there are no surprises.”
Aria swallows. She tries to put on a brave face, but I can see the uncertainty lying underneath. I want to tell her not to worry, but would that help any? I doubt it. Not when she’s been through so much already. We just have to do like Cain says and protect her if things go sideways. Show her that with us, she can be safe.
The drive into Dawson is faster than I anticipated. It isn’t long before we park in front of a locked gate in front of the shipping yard. We definitely did not come this way on our last visit here. There’s even a guard station and cameras overlooking the fence.
“Go around, toward the abandoned buildings there,” I direct the driver, leaning forward and pointing toward the docks on the left. “Park in one of the small alleys. There isn’t a gate there.”
Wasting no time, the car swings around toward the more quiet and secluded part of the harbor. We all pile out. The salty and crisp water smell in the air fills my nostrils. Elias leads the way, using his nose as a guide, while Cain and Aria stay in the middle with me holding up the rear.
Passing rows and rows of huge cargo containers, we scan the area. The place seems deserted, besides the random seagull flying overhead.
“Damn. This place is enormous.” Aria keeps her voice low as we walk closer to the water.
“Let’s be quick,” Cain instructs. “As soon as you sense anything, let us know.”
She hesitates but eventually gives him a subtle nod.
We pass more metal storage containers, some stacked on top of each other, two or three high. If Aria senses anything at the top, it wouldn’t be too hard for me to climb up. But when she continues to pass by them without so much as a second glance, my hopes of having some fun are quickly dashed. Dammit.
“Does merchandise just sit around until someone collects it?” Aria asks.
“My guess is that most of these are empty. Only the ones closer to the docks are filled and ready for shipping,” Cain replies.
“Then let’s head that way first,” she suggests.
Elias lifts his nose into the air, his nostrils flaring. Spinning on his heel, he turns right, down another slender aisle between containers. “This way,” he grumbles.
We follow, rounding another long row and emerging closer to the water. A single row of containers lines the pier near a massive, rusty crane. Must be what they use to load the ships, but the thing’s definitely seen better days.
I do a quick count. Twenty. Just like the woman on the phone said would be added to the next shipment.
Cain encourages Aria to step closer. Seeming unsure, she hugs herself, shivering against the cold wind, and moves to the first box.
“Anything?” I ask, my nerves getting the better of me.
“Be patient,” Aria snaps. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“Maybe you need to get closer,” Elias adds.
She glares at him. “Can you just give me a minute? All this pressure is stressing me out.”
Elias and I step back, giving her some space to… well, to do whatever it is she does for this kind of stuff.
Cain turns to us. “Why don’t you two do a quick sweep for anything suspicious? When you come back, we’ll open the container together.”
“Fine. I’ll take the left. Elias, you’re right,” I say.
He smirks at me. “Yes, I am.”
What an awful joke. Just awful.
Cain shakes his head. “Go.”
“Roger that.” I fake salute him. Elias and I are off and running in opposite directions in the next second.
> ARIA
When Elias and Dorian disappear from sight, Cain gives me a reassuring dip of his head. “Go ahead, Aria. Take your time.”
Heaving a sigh, I stare down the long line of containers. I really don’t want to do this.
“Would it be better for you if we walk past them?” Cain asks, his tone surprisingly gentle despite the importance of the situation. His gaze, though, pierces through me. What is he thinking? Is he wondering if I’ll let him down or if this will end up like the swamps somehow?
Maybe I’m overthinking things, but on my last encounter with Sir Surchion, I almost died. A few times. And let’s not forget that the last time I tried tracking a relic for Cain, we ended up ambushed and—to no one’s surprise—almost dead. Again.
My only hope is that this time won’t turn out like any of those other ones. Maybe I shouldn’t say anything and end up jinxing it. That would be my luck.
I turn toward the first container and wait for the familiar weird vibrating sensation down my leg and into my pinky toe. It stays undisturbed. Not so much as a twitch. So it’s definitely not there.
We keep going down the row, yet my mind is miles away. Part of me is torn between wanting to take the artifacts back from Sir Surchion and not letting the demons get them back. If they find them, then they’re three relics closer to going back to Hell, and that means taking me with them. That thought is like a pebble in my shoe, constantly nagging at me in the back of my mind. Since my soul is technically theirs, they want to bring me with them. But Hell is no place for me.
“Hey, Cain,” I say softly, unsure if this is the right time to bring this up, but it’s grinding on my mind. “I know you want to return to Hell once you find all your relics...” I pause as he glances my way, one eyebrow arched, waiting for me to finish. I stop walking. “Except, I don't want to go. I can’t go. I don’t belong there.”
His gaze darkens on me, and my throat dries. I’m realizing now that what I’m about to say could have dire consequences for me, and I stumble through the rest of my explanation out of fear. “So, I hope you understand that I can’t help you find the relics again. It’d be suicide, and I can’t do that. I just… can’t.”
