by Melissa Haag
As soon as he disappeared, though, there was no distraction. How was I going to handle New York if I couldn’t even get out of the car at a side-of-the-road gas station? I remembered the rage that consumed me the night Adira introduced me to Eugene in some back alley in the city. It hadn’t been pretty. I’d wanted to kill those men. But, that was before I came into my power. Things would be different now. They had to be.
A blast of anger hit me hard. Not the woman who was paying at the pump. Someone else.
I turned my head to look at the car parking two spaces over from me. The driver, a man in his mid-twenties, glanced my way and smiled. The fire inside of me burned hotter. The need to punish clawed at me.
“Don’t do it, Megan,” I mumbled. “Keep your ass in your seat.”
He opened his door.
My hand reached for the handle.
“Weak, Megan. Really weak.”
I got out at the same time the man did. His smile widened as I walked his way.
“Hi. Can I help you with something?”
“Don’t ‘hi’ me, asshole. What did you do to piss me off?”
His smile vanished, and he gave me a truly confused look.
“Excuse me?”
People could say the right words and give the right look to make themselves appear good and innocent. But it didn’t fool my fury-side. Ever.
“Nice try. Just confess what you did so we can both move on.”
His eyes narrowed on me.
“Hot and crazy isn’t my type,” he said. “Beat it.”
He moved to the side as if to walk around me.
“Will Yajlin,” I said, stopping him with just my voice. “Confess.”
The word brought him to his knees before me. Trembling where he knelt, words tumbled from his mouth. I listened to how he’d just beaten the crap out of his girlfriend before running out for a bag of beef jerky that she didn’t want to get for him.
“Beef jerky?”
“I’m not even sure if she’s still breathing,” he admitted with a sob.
The fire inside of me roared with the truth behind his admission. I could see his girlfriend where she lay, her face bloody and pale. Her chest still.
“Elizabeth is not breathing. She died by your hands.”
He mewled pathetically as I grabbed him by his throat and lifted. Fire danced up my arm, slowly consuming my sleeve.
“Will Yajlin, you’ve earned your place in hell.”
With those words, I embraced my fury power. Fire exploded over my skin, and pain ripped through me from my stomach to the top of my head as if I were being split in half.
I opened my mouth and screamed, shattering the windows in Will’s car.
The sound of Oanen calling my name was the last thing I heard before the agony of being burned alive swallowed me whole.
Chapter Two
The faint echo of Oanen saying my name and the persistent tapping on my cheek made my head throb. I groaned, turned my head, and heaved my guts out.
“Megan, tell me what’s wrong?” Oanen said, holding back my hair.
“I’m throwing up,” I said, weakly swiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Yeah, I can see that. Why, though?”
The gentle stroke of his fingers over my hair took away some of the ache drumming in my skull.
“How am I supposed to know? I just woke up.”
The wrongness of that statement struck me as soon as the words left my mouth. I hadn’t been sleeping. I’d been in the middle of punishing someone. A guy. No, a murderer.
From my position safely cradled in Oanen’s lap, I lifted my head and looked around. We sat in the empty parking space next to our car. The man and his vehicle were gone.
I looked up at Oanen.
“What happened?” I asked.
The worry clouding his gaze intensified.
“I don’t know. I came out with your snacks, found you on the ground, and some guy squealing tires out of the parking lot.”
“That would have been Will, a guy who just killed his girlfriend. Can you help me up? I need to go to the bathroom and get this taste out of my mouth.”
Oanen lifted me to my feet and walked with me to the bathroom. My legs felt a little shaky, and my stomach wasn’t sure which way was up. However, none of that bothered me as much as the fact that I’d let a murderer get away.
Oanen said nothing as I closed myself into the dirty washroom. I used the toilet then cleaned up. Skull still pounding, I stared at myself in the mirror and tried to figure out what the hell had happened. I’d obviously done something wrong. But what?
I’d let go of my power just like I had on the beach. Only, the pain had been worse this time. And, instead of feeling better afterward, I hurt. My head. My stomach. Even my back.
Oanen knocked lightly on the door.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Just a minute.”
Not wanting to worry him further, I splashed some cool water on my face before opening the door. His concerned gaze swept over me.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
“As well as a girl can after heaving her guts out in front of her boyfriend.”
His gaze warmed.
“I like the sound of that.”
“You like the sound of me trying to see the inside of my stomach?” I asked in disbelief. “You have issues.”
“I like the sound of boyfriend. Not you getting sick; our kind isn’t supposed to get sick like that.”
“I’d prefer to pretend it didn’t happen,” I said quickly, noting the pre-lecture look on his face. Which was completely unfair since I hadn’t done anything to deserve it.
He lifted my bag. I hadn’t noticed him holding it until then.
“In case you wanted to brush,” he said.
“You’re amazing.” I accepted the bag. “And when I come back out, we won’t mention my time kissing the pavement ever again.”
He nodded, and I closed the door on him once more, relieved that I’d managed to hide just how much my head was hurting. Making a face at myself in the mirror, I slathered my toothbrush with paste and set to work erasing the last few minutes of my life.
While the minty freshness helped quell the remaining queasiness in my stomach, it did nothing to ease my mind. I didn’t know what was supposed to happen when I condemned a wicked to hell, but I felt pretty certain that me passing out wasn’t it.
I spit and rinsed and considered trying to call my mom again. She’d be able to tell me what went wrong. However, I disregarded that idea as quickly as it formed. Mom had made herself clear during our last call. She had no intention of talking to me until I offed granny dearest. It would be better to wait until I had Mom cornered in New York. Hopefully, she’d answer questions when we were face to face.
With my brush and paste back in the bag, I opened the door. Oanen turned, pocketing his phone, and I smiled at him.
“What kind of chips did you get me?” I asked, determined to stick to my word and pretend nothing had happened.
He took the bag and walked with me to the car.
“Three different kinds. Sour cream and onion. Cheddar. And vinegar.”
“Vinegar?” I asked.
“Something to help balance how sweet you are.”
I laughed and gave him a peck on the cheek. Oanen’s arms wrapped around my waist, and he held me for a moment. The press of his chest against mine and the feel of his heat seeping through my clothes reminded me that we were going to be staying together tonight. My heart skipped a beat at the thought.
Easing away with a shy smile, I got into the car. The moment my back touched the seat, I winced. Oanen caught my expression and watched me closely as I shifted my position to take the pressure off the area that hurt.
“You’re not okay, are you?” he asked.
Gold flecks appeared in his gaze.
“I got knocked into the boat yesterday and hit my back pretty hard. I think it’s just bruised.”
/> He frowned slightly.
“I thought you were healed after last night?”
I stared at him for a moment, confused. Although I knew for a fact that the bites on my arms and legs had disappeared after my pyrotechnics display the night before, I couldn’t recall if my back had hurt afterward. So much had happened in such a short period of time. Testing my abilities at the Roost. Spending the night in the same bed with Oanen without melting his hair. Getting my mark this morning. So much, in fact, that I’d never stopped to take inventory.
“Yeah, I thought so, too. Maybe when I fell just now, I hurt it again.”
“I thought we weren’t going to talk about that,” he said.
Before I could answer, he leaned in to toss my bag in the backseat and brushed his lips along my neck. I exhaled softly and relaxed against the seat, ignoring the part of my back that stung. When he was done kissing my neck, he lifted his head and studied me.
“I never want to see you on the ground like that again.”
“And you think I wanted to be there?” I asked, arching a brow.
His I’ll-be-patient-because-you’re-not-well expression morphed into his famous pre-lecture expression. I quickly grabbed his head and kissed the hell out of him.
When he finally pulled back, his hair was messy; and I was struggling to breathe and remember my name.
“You won’t get away with that every time,” he said.
“I might.”
His lips twitched.
“You might.”
I exhaled in relief when he closed the door. I was crazy about Oanen, but I might threaten his wings again if he attempted to lecture me when I felt this crappy.
* * * *
My yawn ended with a wince when I shifted sleepily on the seat. Sitting up, I opened my eyes and looked around. The daylight and light traffic had disappeared, replaced by buildings and streetlights as far as I could see.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“The city. We’re almost there. How are you feeling?”
I rubbed my face, yawned again, and stretched carefully.
“Better.”
“Really?”
He sounded surprised.
“Yes. Really. The headache’s gone.”
“You had a headache?”
“Just a little one. Sorry I slept so long. I didn’t mean to stick you with all the driving.”
“It’s okay. I figured it would be easier on you if you slept through this part, anyway.”
I looked around at all the buildings again and understood what he meant. The streets were crawling with people. However, I didn’t even feel a tingle of irritation.
“I’m actually good. No overwhelming urges to hit anyone.” I smiled. “See? Powers under control.”
“In that case, I’d like to head to the Goose and Gizzard first.”
“That’s fine with me.”
My stomach growled loudly, a reminder of just how empty it was.
“Did you stop somewhere to eat?”
“No. I wanted to wait to see how you felt.”
He cast me a pensive side-glance.
“I’m fine. I swear. Whatever happened in the parking lot was because I have no clue what I’m doing. That little book my mom left me is far from an instruction manual. While you ask questions about your dead troll, I plan to ask about a fury.”
“Good. I’m struggling not to be worried, and I’ll feel a lot better if your mom can clarify her comment about you suffering the longer you wait.”
He pulled over in front of one of the many tall buildings on the block.
“We’re about eight blocks north of Central Park,” he said. “We’re staying near the park on the west side. My parents have a condo there with roof access. I texted you the address already.”
“Okay,” I said, drawing out the word. “Why are you telling me this?”
He shut off the engine and turned to look at me.
“We’re in a city full of people, going into a bar full of creatures. The likelihood of you running into someone punishable for their wickedness isn’t just high; it’s definite. If you end up chasing someone down when I’m not looking, I want to know that you can find your way back to me.”
I reached up and set my hand over his tense jaw muscle.
“I should tell you not to worry about me, but honestly, I like it. I haven’t had someone worry like this in a very long time. Thank you.”
He turned his head to kiss the palm of my hand.
“Let’s get this done so we can go relax at the condo.”
The way he said it made my stomach dip and spin in a mix of anticipation and nerves. I quickly exited the car so he wouldn’t see either in my expression.
Looking at the plain building before me, I frowned. The brick and stone façade screamed apartment for rent, not supernatural bar.
“I thought we were going to the Goose and Gizzard.”
“We are.”
He threaded his fingers through mine as he joined me on the sidewalk. With a light tug on my hand, he led me up the stairs toward the door.
A tingle of something brushed my skin and made the hair on my arms stand up when we reached the landing.
“Magic,” Oanen said softly. “Keeps the humans out.”
He opened the door, and a low murmur of voices filled the air as we stepped into the large bar.
The Goose and Gizzard wasn’t anything like the Roost. No music with a dancing beat blared from speakers. No nice couches waited for intimate moments. No color. No fun. Probably because the patrons of the Goose and Gizzard edged toward geriatric rather than teen.
A bar ran the back length of the place. Several pool tables lined the right side with booths toward the front. To the left, there were a couple of battered tables where a few creatures were eating their meals. The place looked like a complete dive. Definitely not the kind of establishment I could see my mom frequenting. However, the troll snoring on the pool table to our right told me this was just the place Oanen needed to be.
He studied the troll for a moment then met my gaze.
“Good luck,” he said.
“Yeah, you too. I’m going to go talk to the bartender.”
He nodded and stepped toward the sleeping creature.
I strode to the bar. Behind me, the snoring stopped, and I glanced back at Oanen. With his arms crossed and his expression masked, he stood beside the irate troll.
“Go away,” the troll rumbled.
“No. You and I need to talk.”
The troll drew back his fist and made to hit Oanen. Oanen caught the extra-large, meaty fist in his own. The contact echoed in the room and quieted the low murmur of conversation.
“I have no quarrel with you,” Oanen said clearly. “Just some questions that need to be answered.”
Someone snorted behind me, drawing my attention back to the bar. The few patrons who sat there appeared older. Greying hair. Stooped shoulders. Expressions in varying degrees of life-bitterness.
“Just what we need,” a craggy-faced man said.
I took the empty seat beside the man. With his leather jacket and weathered face, he looked like an old biker.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“An enforcer. We have no freedom the way it is. What’s left to suppress?”
“What’s an enforcer?” I asked.
He gave me an incredulous look.
“The ones responsible for the current state of our world.”
“You think that guy’s going to suppress you in some way?” I asked, trying a different approach.
“They all do. First, it was don’t eat humans. Now, it’s don’t kill humans. Stay hidden. Stay quiet. I miss the days when I could open my wings and soar high. If humans scurried below me like frightened cattle, I could scorch them or not. It was my choice back then.”
The person on the biker’s right said something I couldn’t hear, and the biker chuckled.
“You are right, my friend. This world is no
longer ours. The enforcers have made sure we have no place in it.”
I looked in the mirror behind the bar and saw that the person on the biker’s right was hidden by a deep hood. Only the bottom half of the man’s face was visible, showing his whiskered chin wasn’t salted with grey like the biker’s.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked, coming my way.
“A glass of water and a menu.”
He belly-laughed and walked away.
“I don’t get it,” I said.
“Fledgling,” the biker beside me said, “the stuff they make here isn’t meant for a menu.”
I frowned and glanced back at the other patrons who were quietly eating. Oanen had his back to me, in quiet conversation with the troll. If the scowl on the troll’s face was any indication of their conversation, I didn’t imagine things were going well for Oanen.
The bartender walked out of a side door and delivered a plate of mashed up food to one of the tables in the main room. I couldn’t identify what exactly was on the plate. But, the chunks were a bit too large for stew.
I sniffed the air and watched the patron take his first enthusiastic bite. It smelled like normal food in the Goose and Gizzard, but I couldn’t forget what kind of creatures this place catered to.
“It’s not human, is it?” I asked, glancing at the biker. “The food.”
The guy’s hard gaze locked with mine.
“Are you a special kind of stupid to ask something like that with an enforcer in the same room?”
“Apparently.”
“We don’t serve human here,” the bartender said, having returned with a glass of water and a plate of food. The glass he slammed in front of me, and the burger with fries he set down in front of the guy beside me.
“Sorry,” I said holding up my hands. “I didn’t know any of us existed until a few months ago. Blame my ignorance on my parenting.”
“See?” the biker said, looking at the bartender. “This is what I’m talking about.” He focused on me once more. “We need to return to the old ways. You would have known what you were from the moment you were born. You wouldn’t have had your powers suppressed or grown in the shadows of a world you were made to dominate.” He closed his eyes, and a shudder ran through him. When he opened his eyes again, I stared at the vertical slits of his pupils that reminded me far too much of Lucia.
