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Harlow's Demons Complete Series

Page 26

by Jen Pretty


  Julian's hand slid over and brushed the hair out of my face and then continued to roll a strand of hair around his finger. When the room stopped spinning a while later, I glanced behind me and got an eye full of Julian laying in the bed with me. I glanced under the blankets and realized I was wearing a shirt I didn't recognize.

  “What happened last night?” I asked, almost afraid of his answer.

  His mouth curled up into a wicked grin. Oh shit.

  I covered my eyes with my hands. I didn't remember anything after dancing with Julian. His body pressed up against mine. I vaguely remember dancing with the hot bartender, too. How did that come about? Peeking between my fingers, I caught Julian's face and he still wore that same smile.

  “This isn't funny,” I said.

  “I disagree. This is hilarious.”

  Might be time for me to quit drinking. I shook my head and slid out from under the covers. Staggering to the bathroom, I used the facilities and glimpsed myself in the mirror. “Good lord,” I whispered at the face in the reflection. My hair was a rat's nest except for the one strand that Julian had been playing with. It was straight and smooth.

  My eyeliner had run, giving me dark smudges around my eyes like a raccoon. I was a trash panda now. I washed my face and tamped down my hair before pulling on a housecoat and stumbling back out of the bathroom.

  Voices speaking in the main room and the smell of coffee drew me out of the bedroom. What I found there surprised me even more. The bartender was half naked on the couch where, by the pillow and blanket, I assumed he had spent the night. What the hell did I do?

  Julian chuckled at the look on my face. “Have you met Rory?”

  “Fuck me,” I whispered. “Nice to meet you,” I said louder.

  “Oh, we met. You stole my shirt.” He grinned and stretched his arms along the back of the couch, displaying his chest covered in tattoos. Whatever drunk Harlow was thinking, she was smart to steal his shirt. The tattoos, and his chest and abs, were all fantastic.

  Julian handed me a napkin, and when I looked at him with a questioning look, he said, “For the drool.”

  I turned on my heel and went back into the bedroom, closing the door behind me. I climbed back into bed and pulled the blankets over my head. I could stay here until the end of time and pretend nothing happened last night. That was a solid plan.

  Note to self, do not drink shots ever again. Zero-stars. Do. Not. Recommend.

  I tried to force my mind not to remember anything about the previous night, but it trickled back in anyway; dancing with Julian and Rory; stealing Rory's shirt; making out with Julian in the back of the limo. Hadn’t we driven there in the sports car? Taking my dress off and dancing on the coffee table in the suite? Hmm. Yeah, I made some poor decisions the night before.

  The bedroom door clicked open and light poured in.

  “Go away,” I said from my blanket cave.

  “I brought a peace offering,” Julian said. The smell of coffee wafted through my blanket and I shot a hand out, making a gimme motion. Coffee wouldn't make me forget, but it would make me feel better. Coffee didn't judge; it just understood.

  He placed the warm mug in my hand and I carefully pulled it back in with me, sitting up so I didn't spill it. I took a sip and heaven landed in my mouth. Thank God for coffee.

  “Come out when you are ready. Rory is one of us and agreed to help us tomorrow since you took such a liking to him.

  I covered my eyes, though Julian couldn't see me. The sound of the bedroom door clicking closed again was a relief. I sipped my black gold until the mug was empty, and then staggered into the bathroom to take a full shower. It was weird to be wearing a stranger’s t-shirt, so I folded it and set it on the bathroom counter. Etiquette said I should wash it before returning it, but there wasn't a machine here, and he was topless in the hotel room right now. He wouldn't fit in my clothes, nor I could give him a clean shirt to wear. This was so weird.

  I finally walked out dressed in jogging pants and a hoodie, and to my utter joy Nick was here now, too. He had his judgey face on but didn’t say anything. Thank God.

  “Al is on his way over with Celia. She has been keeping an eye on the entrance to Collin’s hideout,” Nick said in the way of greeting.

  “Great,” I said, lifting the top from a covered tray of food. There were eggs Benedict and sausage, but no bacon. I eyed Rory suspiciously. He seemed like a bacon lover. He probably ate it all.

  “Your mother is coming, too,” Julian said.

  “For fuck's sake! Does she need to come? She can’t possibly have anything to add, and she isn't reliable anyway,” I muttered into my sausages.

  “At least she is trying to help, Harlow,” Nick said. I didn't appreciate his tone. As if I wasn't helping? I was the one doing all the helping. I rescued Julian. I did some other things, I was sure. Nick was the one off playing with knives. I glared at him, but he didn't combust. Whatever.

  “Fine, but if she disappears when we need her most, I will say I told you so.”

  Julian shifted on the couch as I approached, so I ended up sitting between him and Rory. I balanced my plate of food on my knees and dug in. For a while, it was just the sound of my knife scraping on the plate in the room. That was fine with me; talking about any current topic of conversation would have been awkward.

  There was a knock at the door and Nick jumped up to answer it. I glanced away from my food for a moment, and when I returned my eyes to my plate, a sausage was missing.

  I scowled at Julian, but he was reading a mystery novel. Shifting my glare to Rory, I saw him chewing. The bastard. Was nothing sacred anymore?

  “How's it going, darlin’?” he asked around the stolen sausage in his mouth.

  “Unbelievable,” I scoffed.

  He beamed at me. Al and Celia walked in and sat down on the armchairs strategically placed to make the space into a sitting room, or maybe it was a conference room now since we were talking battle strategies or whatever.

  “Hey, guys. How’s it going?” I asked.

  “Collin’s men found my workshop and destroyed everything,” Celia said.

  Al chuckled. “Tell them where you were when the guards were ruining your stuff.”

  Celia brightened “I was cutting a water main to flood their hideout.” Her laugh was like an evil Tinkerbell, high pitched and insane.

  “That’s awesome,” I said, wishing I had thought of sabotaging Collin’s little hidey-hole.

  I glanced at Nick; he was frowning but said nothing. He was turning into such a stick-in-the-mud.

  “Okay, so what have you found out?” Julian asked.

  Celia shifted in her seat. “Not too much, but his numbers have dropped. A lot of the half-demons who joined him have left because he has imposed strict rules about not leaving the tunnels. I spoke to a few who escaped and they said Collin is summoning demons. So far only a couple, but there is something wrong with him. A demon might even possess him.”

  Suddenly, I lost my appetite. I set my plate on the coffee table and Rory grabbed it, shoveling the rest of my breakfast into his mouth.

  Julian's arm slid around my shoulders, but the comfort wasn't enough to keep the chill from racing down my spine. If a demon possessed Collin, that was even worse. He was already a strong monster, but with a demon inside, he would be even stronger.

  “Do you know what he is doing? I mean, is he trying to take over the world or cause a huge problem in this city? I guess if he's possessed, he’s doing what the demon wants.”

  “Yeah,” Celia answered. “Demons have always wanted to return to earth. They enjoy toying with humans.”

  I knew that firsthand. Eternity in the fires of hell probably got boring fast.

  “Any word on gargoyles?” I asked Celia.

  She shook her head. “The half-demon I talked to didn’t know anything about gargoyles. He figured that Collin did something with Jackson’s gargoyles but didn't know where they were or what he was doing with them. I mean, w
hat are the chances the missing gargoyles aren’t related to this?”

  She had a point and I agreed. It would just be nice to know for sure what to expect.

  “Jackson had over a hundred gargoyles,” Al added.

  “Shit,” I whispered.

  Rory dropped my fork on my now empty plate, catching everyone's attention. “Oh man. What if Collin set them all free already?”

  Double shit. “Has anyone heard about possessions in Jackson?” I asked. “We would hear about a spike in crazy people.”

  Everyone shook their heads. The media would notice a hundred new people going suddenly crazy. They would think it was some new party drug or something. We would have to assume that Collin hadn't freed the demons in the gargoyles for now. We could hope it at least.

  There was a knock at the door and my blood pressure shot into the danger zone. Nobody moved until Rory hopped up. I tried to grab him, but he was still shirtless and slipped away before I got a hold of his pants.

  He pulled the door open and my birth-giver walked in like she was the queen of the world. She had a wicked grin on her face that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I had never been afraid of my mother, just abandoned, but the feral look in her eye warned some primal part of me that something was wrong.

  She crossed the room and reached inside her jacket.

  “Stop!” I yelled, but it was too late.

  She pulled out a gun, aimed and fired. The bullet caught Julian in the forehead.

  “That is from our master,” my mother said in an echoing tone that confirmed my fear.

  A demon possessed her.

  I jumped to my feet, but I was a moment too slow, and Nick slammed into her, pinning her to the floor as he pressed his sculptor stone to her chest. She writhed and screamed, her voice sounding like many people screaming all at once.

  My heart was beating so fast I thought it might explode and I covered my ears to block out the noise. Whipping around, I found Julian still sitting on the couch. His head was tipped back, and blood ran in rivers down his face from the hole in his forehead. His eyes stared at the ceiling, unseeing. I clambered back onto the couch, kneeing Rory in my haste and pressed my hand to the hole to stop the bleeding.

  Blood was everywhere. I ran my hand around the back of Julian's head and found a giant gaping mess there instead of a skull. I threw myself backwards away from the disaster that had become Julian’s beautiful face. The gore and fragments coated the wall behind him like some macabre modern art.

  “Fuck, that’s gross,” I said. Rory had me wrapped up in his arms or I would have fallen off the couch. A sob ripped out as my gag reflex kicked in and I covered my mouth to stifle both. Julian was immortal. He would come back.

  I told myself that over and over until Rory's tattooed hand smoothed down my hair and said, “Of course he will.”

  I had been thinking out loud again, but it didn't matter. Julian would come back.

  The screaming stopped, and I glanced behind me at my mother laying on the floor unconscious and Nick standing over her, tucking his sculptor stone back into his shirt. Al and Celia wore similar shocked expressions but hadn't moved from their places on the armchairs.

  Nick glanced at me and then to Julian for a moment before his eyes returned to mine. I realized that tears had sprung and traced lines down my face. Wiping them away I pushed off Rory and huddled closer to Julian. Surely, he would be back soon. I could wait for him.

  The tears continued as I got lost in my thoughts. There was movement around the room, but I stayed focused on Julian, waiting for him to come back.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The day wore on. Nick set food in front of me and I ate it. I couldn't taste it but I washed it down with water and coffee and waited. My mother finally woke up and left. I didn't look at her. I knew this wasn't her fault, but she had killed Julian. Sort of. Temporarily anyway. I wasn't in the mood to be forgiving even if she was demon-possessed. I wanted to wait in peace.

  Al and Celia left, too, but Rory sat beside me watching TV on low volume all day. The noise kept me from losing it as Julian's body cooled. Soon it was too cold to touch. The feeling was giving me the creeps, so I ended up pressed up against Rory, though he didn't seem to mind. He ate and chuckled at whatever he was watching and was just there.

  By nightfall, Nick had left, too, and the suite was growing darker by the minute. The whole day had gone by. At some point, I had wiped the blood off Julian's face though it still looked pale and dead.

  I was picking at my fingernail. So focused that I didn't see the first time Julian's hand twitched, but I thought I felt the movement so the second time it moved, I was staring right at it.

  “Oh, shit!”

  Rory startled at my exclamation. “What is it?”

  “He moved,” I whispered.

  “About time, the lazy arse.”

  I glanced at Rory, but his eyes were still on the TV, and a bag of popcorn was in his lap. Where the hell had he got popcorn? Room service in fancy hotels was over the top.

  I watched Julian for another half hour as the wounds on his head closed up, and his colour returned. I knew the moment he started breathing again and marveled as his skin returned to its usual colour.

  Finally, his eyes flickered open, and a groan rose from his chest. He tipped his head sideways on the couch, his eyes unfocused for a moment and then they latched onto me, and one corner of his lip curled in the secret smile and all my muscles relaxed; even ones I didn't realize were tense. This was the worst day of my whole history. This was worse than being possessed… almost.

  “Hi,” I said.

  His hand crept over to link his fingers with mine. He swallowed hard a couple times and licked his lips before replying.

  “Sorry about that.”

  “Did you just apologize because my mother killed you?”

  He coughed and cleared his throat a few more times. “Yeah, I guess. It was probably gross.”

  “It was the most disgusting thing I have ever seen. Never do that again.”

  His smile shone like a campfire, making his eyes twinkle, and my heart beat faster. He pulled me onto his lap and wrapped his arms around me with a groan. I pushed to move off him, sure I was hurting him after he was dead for the whole day, but his arms wrapped tighter. I couldn't have moved if I wanted to.

  Rory’s chuckle reminded me he was still in the room, but he rose and sauntered to the bedroom, the tattooed wings on his back shifting and bunching with his movement. The shower turned on, and then the bathroom door clicked shut, leaving Julian and me alone in the suite.

  Julian's shirt had dry blood on it, so I carefully unbuttoned it and pushed it open. I pressed my ear to his chest and relished the sound of his heart beating. How had this half-demon got me so caught up in him? I didn't have an answer, and I didn't care. There was something about him that kept pulling me back.

  “Did you want to know what's in the boxes?” he asked after a long comfortable silence.

  “No,” I whispered. A reminder of how stupid I was to blame him for everything that happened in New York was not what I wanted right now.

  I ran my tongue up his neck, and he shivered then caught my lips with his. He clung to me like I would try to escape, but I didn't want to go anywhere. That wasn't true. I wanted to kill Collin. I hadn't wanted to kill anyone before. Okay, maybe a couple people, but not as bad as I wanted to kill Collin. He was on my shit list.

  I turned so I was straddling Julian’s lap and continued kissing him and running my fingers up and down his chest until the shower turned off and Rory came waltzing out of the bedroom. He whistled when he saw us, and then hummed a tune while he raided the cart of food he had ordered from room service.

  “Why is he here again?” I whispered to Julian.

  “Because you wouldn't let me go home, love,” Rory said from across the room. Damn half-demon hearing.

  “What do you mean? I wouldn't let you?”

  “When a fine woman s
ays stay, I’m not going to tell her no.” Rory joined us on the couch and clicked on the TV. I felt awkward still sitting on Julian, so I slid off to sit between them.

  “Well, you don't have to stay. I’m sure someone is wondering where you are,” I said, stealing some French fries off his plate. I was starving all of a sudden and realized I hadn't eaten all day. The fries were cold but yummy.

  “Nope, I’m yours now.” He smiled and took a bite of his burger.

  I froze, my stolen French fries halfway to my mouth. “What do you mean ‘mine’?”

  “Just what I said.”

  I glanced back at Julian who was biting his lip and stifling a laugh.

  “What the hell does he mean?” I asked Julian.

  “He means you are his leader,” Julian said with a chuckle.

  I looked back at the tattooed bartender. He was munching away, watching a sitcom, as if this wasn’t the weirdest thing in the world.

  “I’m not a leader,” I said.

  Julian picked lint off his pants which was dumb because they were ruined anyway. Rory kept watching his show and eating his food like I hadn't even spoken.

  “I’m not!” I stood up intending to storm off in a huff, but Julian grabbed me and pulled me back down to the couch.

  “Calm down, Harlow. It’s not a big deal,” Julian said.

  “Yeah, I’ll just be with you all the time, darlin’,” Rory said.

  “All the time? Why?”

  “I’m your first lieutenant.” Rory smiled and saluted me.

  I did not need a freaking lieutenant. “This is insane. I’m a gargoyle huntress. I work by myself. Can you even swing a net?”

  Rory finished the last bite of his burger and then jumped to his feet. He shook himself like a dog and wings popped out of his back. It was as if his tattoos came to life.

 

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