“Well, well, aren’t you dressed for the occasion?”
Eli slid a finger down my bare back. “I love the view; such a little tease. Come back for twenty questions?”
“Not on the agenda, Mr. Nipple Chain.”
“Shame,” he said. “But if you change your mind, holler. I’ll come.” The way he said the last bit made me squirm. Eli moved away with a nod and disappeared.
An hour stretched by, and the effects of the candy diminished. I heard enough lines that would have made a prostitute blush, but under the influence of candy, I handled them like a pro.
A crowd filtered out from purgatory. Logan towered over them by several inches and was white as a ghost. Whatever he saw down there must have been dark, and I watched him vanish towards the back of the room. Simon was conversing with a woman who had her fingers locked in his belt loop. Although talking didn’t seem like an appropriate word—not the way his thumb was stroking her leather top. When I looked back, a figure emerged from the hollow of the doorway—one I knew all too well.
Nero wore a white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. He always did that right before stealing my light, and it was the first damn thing I noticed. I squeezed the glass with an urge to throw it at him. He looked exactly as I remembered: round glasses, dusty brown hair, crooked mouth, and a narrow nose. Nothing special about him—nothing memorable.
He crossed the room and took a seat at the far end of the bar, lifting a napkin to dab the sweat from his brow.
I catapulted out of the chair, becoming a passenger in my own body. I wasn’t supposed to engage in conversation, but the next thing I knew, I was floating over to the stool beside him.
A sultry woman in a short skirt had a man pinned to the wall, pressing a spiked wrist cuff into his neck. Nero glued his eyes to the scene.
“Remember me?” I interrupted.
He turned and that lazy smile dissolved when he got past my outfit and recognition sank in. His cheeks pinkened.
“You’re not as bright as you think you are,” I scowled.
A little vein protruded from his forehead. “What are you doing here?”
“Having a drink.”
“Don’t play with me, you stupid little thing.”
“I’ll do… whatever… I want.” I stared with a venomous gaze. “You thought it would be so easy to steal me away, but it backfired in your face. You’ll never have me,
Nero
.”
I said his name loud, and with purpose.
Nero snatched my hand and splintering shards of pain touched my fingers.
In a flash of movement, his head slammed against the bar. Simon crushed his forearm against the back of his neck, and I yanked my hand free.
“Well look what we have here. Think you’re a sly one, do you? Nero, I have heard so—
much
—about you.”
The pause between words was a pinch of his arm against Nero’s neck. When he finally let go, Nero flung his arm out and grimaced. Simon leaned against the bar creating a wall between us. Even with Simon in the middle, Nero could hardly remove his eyes from me. I guess it was like a turkey walking into your house on Thanksgiving. He had what he wanted right within his reach, but he couldn’t take it.
“Did you miss our sessions together?” Nero instigated. “Hell has special rooms for that if you’re feeling nostalgic.”
Simon slapped him. I’d never really seen a man slap another man, and he wasn’t holding back.
“Let’s be gentlemen shall we? We know what you’re up to, Nero. An open investigation exists with your name on it, and HALO has watch on your little charade. If you’re smart, you’ll back down, but something tells me you’re not.”
“You can’t prove a thing.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Simon grinned.
“Do you think I’m trembling with fear because HALO is watching?” he laughed. “Nothing but a group of misfits who pat themselves on the back for putting important men in jail. All they’re doing is divulging secrets that should remain among their own kind, and playing God.”
Simon looked over his shoulder. “Silver, I need you to leave us.”
“The hell I’m leaving!”
Nero laughed. “That one doesn’t know her place.”
Simon’s eyes narrowed on mine as Nero continued.
“If you want to know how to remedy that, just say the word. It doesn’t take much for
that one
to submit.”
In a flash, Simon threw his arm out and grabbed Nero by the throat, but he never broke eye contact with me. He jerked his head, motioning for me to leave.
I hopped off the chair and faded into an empty corner. Breed establishments had rules against fighting. If you created disorder, you risked banishment. Simon might end up on that naughty list—not that I cared if he hung out in a place like this—but it wasn’t wise to limit your options when they could benefit you in business dealings.
“Nero won’t give you what you want.”
Eli leaned against the dingy wall in the same unappealing outfit he wore the week before.
“What would that be?”
I stared at the chain hanging across his chest with an urge to yank it off. When he caught the direction of my stare, I saw the faintest hint of a smirk.
“Answers. I can give you those for another even trade.” Eli folded his arms and waggled a brow. “Won’t hurt a bit. Just a little memory recall.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Just keep in mind that most here don’t give a shit what you want. Careful who you tangle with, Mage. You know where to find me if you change your mind. Good luck.”
These people had a twisted idea of fun. Was a pint of ice cream and a movie on a Friday night such a bad thing?
Claustrophobia closed in as I shouldered my way through the thick crowd. How hard could it be to find a 6’5” shirtless blond?
The narrow corridor came to a dead end and I stared at the dark wall. Someone grabbed my wrists and held them behind my back.
“Hello, pretty.”
“Let go of me,” I shouted.
“No one leaves the dungeon once claimed, not until you finish the act.”
“I’m not playing, so let me go.”
I threw my leg back and kicked him hard, twisting my wrist to break his grip. He was quick, and swung me into an empty room. I fell over the edge of a hard surface. Before I could stand, a man with albino hair strapped a cuff around my wrist, tethering me to the table.
Without thinking, I took his hand and threw my power into him, but quickly realized the man was a Mage. Juiced up with my light, he smiled. Wide. Rule number five in training with Justus was broken—never attack with your power unless you know who your enemy is. I had to be especially careful about throwing my light into another Mage, as the quality was brighter.
“We’ve got a frisky one tonight, Ryker. Do you want me to tie down her legs?”
“No. That would take the fun out of it.”
I pulled at the cuff. “You can’t do this without my consent, you sadistic pig!”
“Au contraire. You must participate. There’s no rule it has to be consensual,” he chuckled. “Play nice; if someone chooses you for their game, you complete the act. Period.” He shot a glance towards the albino. “God, I love the newbies.”
I could smell Ryker’s cologne as he approached. His complexion was pasty which looked even more unattractive against a shaved head. The man needed a bottle of suntan lotion and a trip to Belize. Between his ears, eyes, and mouth—he had more metal than a rock concert. However, what really made my skin crawl was the sinister tattoo inked across his chest. A grim reaper laughed at me with a skeletal smile. The blade of the scythe ran along Ryker’s throat.
I launched onto the table—arms bound—ready to kick someone in the skull with my heels.
He tucked his hands beneath his armpits and studied me.
“What do you want to do first?” the albino asked, light pulsing in his eyes. “I say we juice her.”
“Later. Let’s start with the cane.”
I pulled at my restraints. “If you don’t take these off, I’m going to scream.”
“Go ahead. Do you think they care?” he laughed. “On second thought I’d rather not have a crowd tonight. Hans, get the gag.”
When Hans moved closer, I clipped him in the jaw. His head rolled back and his eyes widened like saucers.
“Fucking
hell,
she’s really not into this,” he said, rubbing his jaw.
Ryker grabbed my heel. “Don’t worry, princess. We swing alone; this is just the halftime show.”
“We’re going to punish you for your disobedience,” Hans said. His lashes were as pale as his hair.
You have got to be kidding me.
I thrashed my legs out, refusing to submit to this ludicrous game.
“Hold her fucking feet, goddammit.”
The albino slapped me, and I shoved him across the room. I was about to leap off the table and do some serious damage with my heels when something caught my attention.
Logan stepped in, just as cool as could be, and closed the door behind him, sliding the lock.
“Get the fuck out of here.” Ryker’s lip twitched and he cracked a few knuckles. “Private party.”
Chills blistered my arms when I looked into Logan’s eyes and saw a gathering storm. “Which one of you put that red mark on her face?” His words weren’t rushed, and when he opened his mouth and displayed his incisors, their eyes darted back and forth between each other.
Ryker pointed at his friend. “
He
did it.”
“Then
he
will die slower,” Logan promised.
“Chitah, we have no quarrel with you.”
Logan was beyond hearing. When Ryker held up his hand, Logan twisted it until the bone snapped. Cold horror washed over me.
He tossed him to the ground like a rag doll, and I heard the tearing of flesh and groans. The Mage slumped to the floor and shook so violently that his eyes rolled back. Logan struck his victims in the jugular, and there was quite a bit of blood from the struggle, as it tinted the ends of his hair.
“If she’s yours, you can have her. This was
his
idea, and if you let me out of here, I’ll owe you. I’ll owe you fucking big.”
Logan took a position by my side, looking at Hans without mercy.
“Logan,
no
,” I whispered. Black ringed his eyes and I knew he was only half in control.
He lifted his right hand, rubbing his thumb and index finger together. “Do you know what this is, Mage? It's the world's smallest violin, and it's playing just for you.”
One minute Logan was at my side, the next he threw the Mage to the ground. His lips peeled back as his fangs drove into his neck. Only two puncture marks showed when he pulled back, but it was enough to cause paralysis. Logan punched him in the face several times with an iron fist before slicing him with his teeth. I was shocked by the brutality, and just as soon as it began, Logan’s venom ended the very short life of a man who merely slapped me.
He freed my wrists from the straps and I struck him in the face with the flat of my hand. “Why did you kill them? Does everything have to end in death with you? We could have called the authorities, or just roughed them up a little.”
Ignoring me, he slipped his hands around my waist and nuzzled against my neck. He smelled inexplicably wonderful. The scent was possessive, and I buried myself in its dark sweetness.
“Why did you fly away, little bird?”
“You were gone. I wanted to leave and I couldn’t find you.”
He gathered me in his arms and pulled me off the table.
My stomach turned, and I stepped back. “You have blood in your hair. Why did you do that? If they open an investigation on the murders, then we’re all going to jail.”
Breed jail. I read about it, but had no desire to find out firsthand how those living accommodations would be.
“Too many illegal activities are going on; they won’t request an investigator.”
“How do you know?”
He stroked a hand down his chest, and a muscle ticked in his jaw. “I’ve been to purgatory.”
“Was it worth their life?”
“I’ve never killed a Mage that didn’t have it coming. I can scent guilt much stronger than the slap to your face. Your anxiety flooded through every doorway like a forest fire, but not quick enough. That damn perfume!” he growled. “You have no idea how much I wanted to taste the blood of the one who made you afraid.”
I knew. It was obvious in the fire blazing in his eyes, and the way his fingers trembled as they brushed down my arms. Logan knew my scent, and my heightened emotions only amplified it.
“Guilt doesn’t make you the judge and executioner.”
“What would they have done had I not come in?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know, but… you need to learn to control yourself. I don’t ever want you to kill in front of me again.”