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Grave Decisions (Hellgate Guardians Book 3)

Page 8

by Ivy Asher


  Mama and Daddy are right. I’m still me. My parents are still my parents. My tribulations make a whole lot more sense now, but whatever Alder and Flint thought, I don’t see why this news really has to change anythin’ for me. They’re probably mistaken. Nothin’ bad ever happens in Sweetgreen, so I doubt anyone will be attackin’ little old me.

  It was kind of them to clue me in to what they think I am—though I’ll still have to do some diggin’ and see what I can find out on my own—and it was even more thoughtful that they would offer me a job given what just happened with my old one, but I’m not sure if I should. I mean, I can barely stand next to them without heatin’ up. I’m not sure that bein’ employed by them and in constant close proximity is wise. I’ve got a feelin’ that demon sex would ruin me for all other human men. And more specifically, Flint and Alder sex. Those two are hotter than a fried tomato.

  “Eat up, HB,” my mama encourages as we separate.

  I wipe one last tear from my cheek and chuckle. Leave it to Mama to think her gumbo can solve any problem. Then again, with her cookin’, it probably could.

  “It seems you’ll have to retire that nickname once and for all,” I tease, a small thrill of triumph strikin’ through me.

  “Nah, we’ll just have to switch Heavenly out for something else. Hellish, perhaps?” she tells me in thought.

  “Hell’s Bells,” Daddy supplies jovially around a full mouth of food.

  Mama’s eyes light right up. “That’s it, Love Spuds! Hell’s Bells!” she announces excitedly.

  I groan. Honestly, what kind of day is it when findin’ out you’re a supposed demon isn’t the worst part, but the nickname that comes with it, is?

  I need a stiff drink or ten, and I need it pronto. Good thing I’ve got plans with the girls tonight.

  9

  “Yes! Medley is on a mission tonight!” Kiara shouts before slammin’ down her shot of tequila. She winces and shoves a lime in between her plump lips before she tosses back her long black braids.

  “That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” AnnaMae whoops in agreement as she nudges her shot my way and sips on the rum and coke she ordered instead.

  I give her a look. “AnnaMae, don’t just keep orderin’ shots and then passin’ them off to us. You gotta do your due diligence too. It’s only fair.”

  AnnaMae rolls her pretty blue eyes. “I did a shot already.”

  “Psh. You did not,” Kiara fires back. “You poured it in my damn drink when you thought I wasn’t lookin’.”

  AnnaMae giggles and stirs her drink. “Tequila makes me have indigestion.”

  “No, it turns your Ho settin’ on,” Kiara replies with a wicked grin.

  “Hey!” AnnaMae flicks her wet straw at Kiara, but she doesn’t deny it. I smother a giggle.

  Kiara and AnnaMae are opposites when it comes to looks; Kiara has dark skin and black braids to AnnaMae’s pale skin and platinum blonde bob, but their personalities couldn’t be more alike. The three of us became friends in elementary school, bondin’ over our mutual dislike for learnin’ the multiplication tables. I kept in touch with them even after I moved away for middle school and college, and we picked right up where we left off when I came back home.

  Like me, Kiara and AnnaMae are single, though AnnaMae just ended a year-long relationship. She’s been on the rebound for a few weeks now, and Kiara ain’t wrong about the tequila. It’s like a button for AnnaMae to hike up her skirt and grind on the nearest body of the opposite sex.

  I shrug and down the shot, hopin’ somehow it’ll kickstart the others I’ve already taken and I can finally loosen up, but nothin’ really happens. Still. Maybe dancin’ will help. Get my blood movin’ and all that alcohol travelin’ around, that should have me feelin’ way more light and free than I currently do.

  “Let’s go dance!” I say, my voice raised so they can hear me over the music.

  AnnaMae holds up her finger for us to wait while she starts suckin’ on her straw to finish her drink before we walk away from the table. We may have driven over to Colletville for the night, but the city ain’t that much nicer than Sweetgreen. Sure, this club has flashy lights and a stainless steel bar, but it’s still a honky-tonk beneath it all, as is evident in the country music that’s playin’ outside where they have the beer kegs and mechanical bull set up.

  “Come on, girl, I know you can suck better than that,” Kiara tells her with a mischievous grin, and AnnaMae chugs the rest down, makin’ sure to hollow out her cheeks and shoot the next table over a wink when she catches them gapin’ at her straw suckin’ abilities that should be innocent but just looks downright lewd.

  “Done!” she says proudly, a smile curlin’ up her lips as she slaps the cup down. “Let’s go grind and sway, girls!”

  With another laugh, I step away from the table, followin’ my favorite drinkin’ buddies as we head for the dance floor. The flashin’ lights surroundin’ the DJ up ahead mess with my depth perception. Or maybe that’s the six shots and two drinks I’ve had finally kickin’ in? I sure hope so.

  My mind is still reelin’ with everythin’ that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours. When AnnaMae called, beggin’ me to go out, it seemed like a good idea at the time. But now that I’m actually out, I kinda wish I’d just stayed home.

  I should be blitzed right now, but I feel sober as a nun, and I’m discoverin’ that clubbin’ while sober and stressed out just ain’t as much fun as drunk, squealy, and on the prowl.

  Our trio has turned more than a couple heads, ones that under other circumstances would’ve been prime pickins for me, but I’m just not feelin’ it tonight. That could be in part because of the Pepto pink lady in the corner with tentacles comin’ out of her sides and the way that she’s suctioned herself to some guy in the corner.

  I didn’t notice her when I first got here, but somewhere around shot three and drink one, she pinged my radar, and reality came smashin’ right through the buzz I was tryin’ to chase.

  The demon in the corner—or at least that’s what I’m assumin’ she is—hasn’t noticed me at all, which I suppose is good, since suction cup fondlin’ isn’t on my list of things I was hopin’ would happen tonight. But the fact that I can see her is just makin’ this afternoon’s revelations feel entirely too heavy and important.

  Mama and Daddy and their unconditional love had me feelin’ like the demon bomb was really no big deal, but now that I’m starin’ at somethin’ I couldn’t see yesterday, I’m realizin’ that there might be more to all of this than I thought. I keep ignorin’ her, like maybe she’ll go away, but every time I turn around, there she is.

  As Kiara and AnnaMae head right to the middle of the dance floor, I follow behind them. But as I look around at all the dancin’ bodies around me, everyone laughin’ and showin’ off like peacocks with their feathers splayed, unease bubbles in my gut, and I’m findin’ it harder and harder to ignore. Dancers roll their hips and sway seductively, lost to the matin’ ritual, while I question why I thought comin’ out here would make me feel better. I thought a distraction would be a good thing, but it turns out I’m not as good at dismissin’ things as I’d hoped.

  I wave at the girls, signalin’ that I’m gonna go to the ladies room. Kiara and AnnaMae take each other’s hands and up the ante on the dance floor by grindin’ on each other and doin’ what they can to pull all available male eyes to them. I’ve seen this routine that they do a million times, and I smile at their brazenness.

  They have no shame, and I love that about them. They take what they want with no apologies, and as I watch my friends work their magic and reel in two very eager, very good lookin’ guys, I realize I could do well to be more like that.

  But the problem is, any time a cute guy smiles my way, I falter, because my mind immediately flashes back to two particular demons, one with yellow hair and one with marble skin. It’s been hours since I saw them, and yet, I can still feel their warm skin and taut muscles beneath my fingers when I ran my hands
up their shirts. I can still feel Alder’s touch when his hand wrapped around my wrist. I can hear Flint’s flirtatious drawl; I can see their smolderin’ eyes.

  I want them. Badly. And that’s probably a real bad idea.

  As I walk away from the dance floor, my eyes land on the pink, tentacled demon again, and I reach for my phone in the back pocket of my jean skirt as a distraction. My skirt is tight and short, and the frayed ends tickle the backs of my thighs every time I move. I have a black bustier top on that’s doin’ wonders for my front porch, and I should be feelin’ fine and feisty instead of anxious and confused, but it seems there are only two males who I want to flirt with, and they aren’t here.

  So instead, I’ve been goin’ over what Flint and Alder said and reviewin’ how that information changes the events of my life. So many things keep naggin’ at me.

  Right now, the one I’m focused on is that they said the other girl this happened to was drawn to a gate or somethin’, and I can’t stop thinkin’ about that. Is that the pull I’ve felt about this town? Is Hell or whatever it is they were talkin’ about the reason I can’t seem to leave?

  I’m not sure why that keeps pushin’ to the forefront of my mind, especially while I’m in a club where I should be gettin’ my find and grind on, but I’m just in the wrong headspace, which really sucks, because I’ve been lookin’ forward to lettin’ my hair down and goin’ out with the girls for weeks.

  Seein’ that there’s a line for the bathroom, I stop at an empty table and unlock my phone to open my contacts. Alder’s name is saved right at the top, and I stare at it for a moment, debatin’. Maybe I can just text him real quick? Invite them down here to talk? My lips press in a thin line, because I know I’m just lyin’ to myself. Sure, I do want to talk more about this whole demon thing now that I’ve had time to ruminate on it, but the fact is, I just wanna see them.

  To hell with it, I think, but just as my thumb goes to press the call button, I’m interrupted before I make contact.

  “Come here often?” a deep voice asks me, cuttin’ through the din. I look up from my phone to see who the question belongs to.

  My gaze widens when I find a pair of all-white eyes with the exception of a black slit in the middle for a pupil, set in a devastatingly handsome face that’s all olive skin and yummy angles, topped by long black dreads. A smile tilts his full lips, and I find myself matchin’ it with a welcomin’ grin before I know what I’m doin’.

  “I’m sure you could do better than that for a pickup line,” I tease, but then on the inside, I start freakin’ out a little. I’m so completely out of my depth here. Flirtin’ with demons when I have no clue about anythin’ when it comes to them may not be the wisest idea. Flint and Alder did say that I needed to be careful, but it was never made clear why another demon would want to attack me in particular other than some power grab, and they didn’t say that it was a foregone conclusion and not just a possibility.

  Maybe this guy is a nice demon?

  I try not to scoff at that thought since it sounds like a complete oxymoron, but Alder and Flint have been nice, and I’m a peach on most days. At least, when I’ve gotten a full nine hours of sleep, have been well fed, and am not overheatin’.

  I smile. I sound like a baby dragon.

  The guy with the snake eyes assumes my amused expression is for him, and he smiles even wider. I swear I see a hint of fangs before he leans closer to me. “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” he tries again, and I snort and shake my head. “Or how about, did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?” he asks with a twinkle in his unusual eyes.

  I laugh, but a wave of caution moves through me, and I’m not sure how to feel about the way he’s lookin’ at me like I’m his next meal.

  Shit. Do some demons actually eat other demons? Could that really be a possibility?

  The itch to call Alder skates through my consciousness, but I don’t want to be rude, so I need to deal with this guy first.

  “I’m Morax,” he tells me, offerin’ his hand. I automatically reach out and take it.

  “I’m Bella,” I tell him, givin’ him the name I always use when I’m out havin’ a good time and I know I’m gonna blow off the guy tryin’ to chat me up.

  There’s a part of me that’s kickin’ myself at the thought of passin’ up such an attractive specimen, but I’ve got a feelin’ that dealin’ with this guy might be bitin’ off way more than I’m ready to chew. I suddenly regret sendin’ Alder and Flint on their way before I got more information about the ins and outs of demonhood.

  Morax’s brow furrows for a fraction of a second, and I can’t put my finger on the emotion that flashes through his features before it disappears, but there’s a very cat that got the cream vibe to his countenance as we shake hands.

  I go to pull my hand back, but oddly, he doesn’t let it go. He simply brings his other hand up and runs his fingertips softly over the inside of my wrist. For a moment, I think about yankin’ my hand from his, but too many years of manners have me not wantin’ to offend this guy, so I don’t.

  “So, Bella, tell me about yourself,” he invites, and the way he says my name makes me think that he’s not convinced it actually belongs to me.

  I find the suspicion in his tone odd, since he doesn’t know me and shouldn’t automatically question the name I’ve given him.

  “Not much to tell, really,” I start. “I’m here for a girls’ night out with a couple friends. We’re just lettin’ off some steam at the end of a very long week,” I tell him politely.

  He nods his head but doesn’t follow the social protocol of now tellin’ me about himself.

  “And you?” I encourage after an uncomfortable extended silence where I try to think through how I can get my hand back without causin’ an issue.

  He smiles again. “I’m here for you,” he tells me, his tone a deep purr, and I chuckle at his answer. His cheesy lines are too much.

  “You go, girl!” I hear AnnaMae yell over the steady beat of the music. I look over to see her and Kiara givin’ me a thumbs up as they take me and my demon visitor in.

  I wonder for a moment what they must see when they look at him, because there’s no way they’re observin’ the snake-eyed version that I’m starin’ at. I shoot them a forced smile, but then movement catches my eye, and when my gaze returns back to Morax, I see that one of his dreads is movin’. Wait, no. Not a dreadlock. I stumble back in shock.

  Holy shit.

  A yellow-eyed snake moves up Morax’s arm, and I realize that his hair is not black dreadlocks like I initially thought, but black snakes. I watch the reptile move like it’s slightly agitated, and all I can do is gape at it. On the plus side, I finally freed my hand, so there’s that. But now that I’m really lookin’ at him, I see that what I first dismissed as shadows from the dim lightin’ in the club, are actually a pair of dark brown wings hangin’ off his back.

  Yeah, Mr. Winged Snake Hair is way too much for me at this point.

  “I should go dance with my friends,” I announce, takin’ a step back, but Morax sidesteps me, blockin’ the exit I was about to make so the table is at my back and he’s poised purposely at my front.

  “What’s the rush? They look like they’re doing just fine,” he tells me, and I look over to see that both Kiara and AnnaMae are grindin’ against a couple of guys, lookin’ mighty preoccupied.

  Well, crap, there goes that polite out.

  I press a hand to Morax’s chest, not to seduce, but to keep him from steppin’ any closer. I’m not likin’ the invasion of my personal space. I don’t know the rules and ways of bein’ a demon, but he’s just a little too pushy. There’s almost an undertone of desperation in his every move, and I’m not feelin’ it at all.

  “You’re too close,” I tell him.

  He watches me squirm, and I see the distinct glint of excitement in his serpentine eyes, and that’s when I drop all my previous worries about stayin’ polite.

  “Back up. Now,
” I say with steel in my tone.

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he says smoothly, and alarm wells up in my chest like a swarm of bees when he grabs my wrist again.

  This time, there’s no teasin’ hints of flirtation in the sweep of his thumb over my skin, or any hint of a friendly smile on his face. He’s gone cold. Taken off his mask to show me his true intentions.

  He doesn’t want to woo me.

  He wants to hurt me.

  10

  I realize with sudden horror that I just played right into this guy’s hands by bein’ so naive and complacent, worryin’ more about my Southern manners than trustin’ my instincts and gettin’ the hell away from him.

  Fear and terror wash through me as I try to wrench my arm away in a blind panic, makin’ my elbows smack against the table at my back, but Morax doesn’t let go. Instead, he just squeezes harder.

  “You will calm down.”

  I blink, and my struggle immediately stops and the fight that was just ragin’ inside of me leaks out like I’m a deflatin’ balloon. His voice brushes over me and that calm he just ordered seems to shove under my skin and toss aside my fear.

  Suddenly relaxed, my arms hang at my sides, and Morax smiles. “Good girl,” he coos. “Now we’re going to walk out of here, so wave goodbye to your friends, smile, and behave yourself.”

  “I’ll behave,” I hear myself sayin’ as I lift a hand and wave goodbye to Kiara and AnnaMae, which is our shared we’re leavin’ to go get laid signal.

  We really should have come up with a secret handshake and maybe even a phrase, but I never thought in a million years I’d have to protect myself against a possible demon abduction. Just as soon as I get their whoops in return, I’m bein’ dragged away. Morax weaves us through all the people in the club and heads straight for the exit.

 

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