Owned: Guardians at War by Bridie Henderson (1)

Prologue

“You will have to do many things to survive this world, Catrasia, and none of them will be pleasant. You must lie, steal, even kill to survive your Father and his sons, but you will never beg. Do you understand?”

“No Mommy, I don’t. Why can’t you stay with me? You always protect me, Mommy,” Tracy bent her head and buried her face into her mother’s lap as tears streamed from her young eyes.

“I would if the choice was mine, my little Filia. I would stay and I would never leave your side. If I was stronger I would take you away from here, my love. I would kill them all in an instant and take you somewhere we could be safe, we could be together… but I am just a human without my talismans.”

“Mommy?” Tracy’s eyes grew wide when she heard the familiar heavy steps of her Father descending the basement stairs.

“Listen to me, Catrasia, you are not weak as I am. You are not ruled by trinkets. You have a great power inside you and one day you will use it to free yourself from this place but until then, you must hide it. Hide your beauty and hide the power inside you, no matter what. Trust no-one, believe nothing… only yourself. Promise me, my little Filia. You must promise!” Tracy looked up when her Mother began shaking her shoulders in frantic jerks as her father’s footfalls grew closer.

“I – I promise, Mommy… you’re coming back though, right?”

“I… I will always be with you, my little Filia. Always.” Her Mother pulled her in tight for a final hug as the thud, thud, thud of her Father came closer still. “Remember your promise, Catrasia. Remember it well, my love. Now you must be brave…” Tracy was pushed behind her Mothers back as her Father finally came into view. A cruel gleam in his eye that darkened the well-presented image he portrayed. He was well kempt with a light grey three piece suit and close shaven jawline with not a salt and pepper hair on his head out of place. Despite his fatherly visage, Tracy knew a great evil lurked within him. Even at five years old she had witnessed it for herself many times over. She cowered behind her Mother and kept her head low just as she had been taught as he sauntered closer.

“How is my beautiful blushing bride today?” he asked, his voice sickly sweet as he ran a finger along her Mother’s jawline.

“I am ready.”

“That is not what I asked you, my little turtledove. Come now, Sara, tell me how you feel.” Tracy watched as her Mother squared her shoulders and held her head high.

“I feel… ready.” Her Father smiled but it was the kind of smile that makes your skin crawl. The kind of smile that makes you feel sick to your stomach because you know something terrible is about to follow it. Tracy hated that smile, hated the way it made her feel because she knew what it meant. Every time her Father came down to their little basement to retrieve her Mother and he gave her that smile she knew her Mother would be back broken and bruised and she would have to watch as she slowly healed. It was always slow. She and her Mother were given barely enough food and water to survive on and even at such a tender age Tracy knew that her Mother made sure she had the larger portions. So Tracy watched as once more her Father led her Mother by the hand out of the basement, her emaciated figure still walking tall and proud as she allowed herself to be led to yet another ritual. Another beating. Her Mother glanced back one last time, her rich chocolate-y brown eyes filled with something Tracy didn’t understand. Tracy cried for a long time afterwards as she waited for her mother’s return. She didn’t cry out of self-pity or fear or even anger… she cried because she knew that when her Mother eventually came back, her body almost destroyed with perhaps another missing finger or worse, Tracy wouldn’t be allowed to do anything about it. She knew she had the power to heal her mother, maybe even the power to hurt her Father enough that he’d think twice about hurting her again but she was forbidden from using it. The last time her Mother had been thrown down the basement stairs, her spine twisted and piercing through her flesh Tracy hadn’t been able to stop herself. She had healed her Mother within minutes but rather than being thankful to be alive or angry at Tracy’s disobedience, her Mother had awoken in terror.

“What have you done, Catrasia?” she’d said breathlessly, her eyes dim as though her very soul had been destroyed by Tracy’s careless act of love. Tracy had awoken the next morning to find her powers bound, they weren’t gone but they were immensely weakened, and her Mother in almost as bad a state as she had been the night before. During the night her Mother had broken her own bones and disfigured her own flesh to hide what Tracy had done. So when her Mother eventually returned after partaking in her Father’s crude rituals, she knew she might not have enough power to fix her again and even if she did, she would not be rewarded for it. Not that she wanted anything in return but to see the disappointment and frustration in her Mothers eyes was certainly a deterrent. Tracy waited three days with only a stale piece of bread and the steady drip, drip, drip from the leaky water pipe to sustain her before the basement door finally opened and a limp figure was thrown down the steps with a laugh. Crawling on her hands and knees Tracy pulled her Mother on to her back and finally looked upon her face. At least, what was left of it… Her beautiful face had been mutilated until she was barely recognisable and her chest and arms bared bloody runes etched deep into her skin. Tracy cried silently as she ran her hands over her Mothers wounds and willed her power to flow into them.

“Please, please, please… I don’t want to be alone, Mommy. Mommy please wake up. PLEASE!” Nothing was working. She could feel her power beneath the surface like an array of pale blue orbs fighting to free themselves from her. Her power was willing and able to heal her Mother, the binding was too weak to hold her. The problem was… there was nothing of her Mother left to heal. Her chest no longer rose or fell with soft, laboured breathes. No more did her eyelashes flutter with the promise of consciousness. She was gone, and Tracy was truly alone. Tracy learned her hardest lessons that day. It doesn’t matter if you love someone or if they love you, it doesn’t matter how deep that love goes or how much your heart beats for another… In the end it didn’t matter because love isn’t enough, everyone dies alone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

“What are you thinking there, Vampirella?”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“You did, didn’t you… and yet I have the undeniable urge to ignore your request,” Adalai smirked as he pushed harder on the accelerator and gunned it down the highway.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Maybe… the jury’s still out.”

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?” Tracy growled through gritted teeth as she thrust her feet up on the dashboard, crossed her arms and leaned back in an effort to get comfortable. Six hours, six long, painstaking hours, in the car on the way to New York was beginning to wear thin.

“I am extremely intelligent so that would be a logical assessment,” Adalai said with a smile, not taking his eyes off the road. The problem was that he wasn’t joking. He actually meant it, the conceited ass. Tracy rolled her eyes for perhaps the hundredth time within the hour.

“Why did I agree to come with you?” She muttered, watching as the arid desert began to turn to green and leafy out of the window.

“Because I’m irresistible.”

“Ugh… please stop talking,” Tracy murmured, rubbing her temples and closing her eyes in irritation. 

“You can make me stop very easily, Vamps… unbind my powers and I will leave you alone. You have my word.”

“Yeah, the word of a criminal, not to mention a demon… what kind of demon are you anyway?”

“Ah, so you do care…”

“Bite me.”

“Hmmm, not usually my thing but I’d be willing to give it a try.”

“Wow. You’re a complete douchebag.”

“I could be a Lust Demon for all you know. You could have just insulted me based on what I am. That’s bigotry at its best.”

“I’m not a bigot. Are you a Lust Demon then?”

“See, I knew you were interested.” He glanced down in time to catch her throwing him the stink eye and chuckled. “No. I’m not a lust demon. Now will you unbind my powers?”

“No.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because I don’t trust you and even if I did, I just don’t like you very much.” She said simply with a catty grin.

“Whatever, Vamps. If I had my way, I’d leave your ass on the side of the road and let you make your own way to New York.”

“Why don’t you then?”

“Because that little demigod we both know and owe would break me in two, set me on fire and then feed me my balls… I’m kind of attached to my balls. They’re good balls.”

She rolled her eyes and looked out the window again though a smile did curve her lips a little as the mental image of the large demon cupping his balls as he ran away from the whole five foot that was Alexa Hawthorne ran through her mind.

“There’s a diner about a mile up the road. We can stop, eat and then it’s your turn to drive, Vamps.” Tracy fidgeted in her seat at the thought but simply nodded her head. In fact the thought turned her stomach and rattled her so much she didn’t even bother to tell him off for the stupid nickname he had adopted for her.

“Why do you call me that anyway?”

“Vamps? It’s what I feel you should look like. You know, dark hair, vampiric eyes, pale skin… it would suit your dark, morbid personality more.”

“Really? You don’t think plain, simple and drab is good enough, huh?” She muttered with a sneer.

“No, you’re pretty enough… it just feels fake. Like your hiding…” Well, shit. That escalated quickly. So much for a lighter topic. Suddenly, she wanted to go back to a few minutes before when she only had one thing twisting her insides. It wasn’t long before they were in the diner, eating in silence as Adalai’s sheer size and height drew stares from the other patrons. It was ironic really… she’d spent her entire life trying to appear as forgettable as possible and here she was… on a road trip with Mr McNoticable. He wore dark shades to hide his ruby red eyes but it didn’t make much of a difference. The men were eyeing him like he was a sideshow attraction at a circus and the women as though he was a Chippendale stripper. Tracy could see the attraction, she admitted to herself somewhat begrudgingly. He had copper skin, dark hair that was somewhere in the middle of long and short, ending just below his ears and falling over his eyes slightly. His broad shoulders, muscular torso and long, strong legs made him look nothing short of a Native American prince ready to throw down with the elements at a moment’s notice. Absently, she cocked her head to the side and watched him, letting his handsome features distract her from what was to come.

“Like what you see there, Vamps?” And then of course, he opened his damn mouth and any attraction to him disappeared like vapour.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she muttered putting her fork down on her plate leaving her pancakes barely touched.

“You need to eat more.”

“’Scuse me?”

“Alexa gave me specific instructions. You need to eat more. You know, eating disorders in women are a complete turn off.”

“Thanks for that, asshole. I don’t have a damn eating disorder, I’m just not hungry.”

“Regardless, as I said, I have instructions.”

“What’re you gonna do? Force feed me? Call Alexa and tell on me? Give me a break.” She growled under her breath, pushing the plate away with a huff.

“No. I’ll just sing the entire way to New York until I see you eat a full meal and I warn you… I’m no Frank Sinatra.” He said with an eyebrow wiggle and a smirk as he pushed her plate back towards her. Tracy’s face deadpanned as she stared at him in defiance but his smile just grew wider. Then out of nowhere he straightened up his seat and started singing the chorus to Rebecca Black’s Friday. Her eyes widened, first at the surprisingly smooth vocals he sang with. He was right, he wasn’t Frank Sinatra; he was more of a Billy Joel. Then his choice of song hit her and her eyeballs were almost popping out of her head.

“Alright, alright!” she hissed as all eyes in the rustic little diner turned to their table once more. Cheeks burning she stabbed at her pancakes and shovelled several forkfuls into her mouth at once.

“Appffy?” she mumbled, her mouth full.

“Oh ecstatic,” he smiled, “Now I won’t get a lashing from the redhead. Should have been a demon, that one.” Tracy was inclined to agree. There was something so unsettling about Alexa that had she been a Demon it would have been entirely believable. As it turned out, Alexa was actually the daughter of one of the Gods who created Demons… as well as every other supernatural race. Now the tiny but powerful woman was heading up a makeshift militia to battle against the rising ‘Resistance’ whose end goals where as yet unknown but so far had been implicated in the deaths of many innocents including Alexa’s parents, as well as engineering the enslavement practices of an entire city. Whatever their goals were, it seemed they were motivated by a purpose older than time… accumulating power. The Resistance wanted to dominate not just the supernatural communities but the human ones as well and though Alexa, Kaleb, Aden and Teresa as well as a few others had put a dent in their slavery plans they all knew it wasn’t over. The fact that each of them, except for Tracy herself, was on a Resistance hit list was proof of that. As it was she was travelling to New York under Alexa’s instructions to find out as much as she could about Colleen’s murder. Colleen had been Teresa’s sister until she had been murdered by the Resistance a week ago when they crossed her name off their list. That was the deal she’d struck with the annoying demon sitting across from her. A few weeks before he had been captured by the Resistance and used as a guinea pig for a new weapon they had been testing. She didn’t know the full details of his capture but the results of the weapon they had tested on him had been clear. An herb based toxin had somehow been injected into his bloodstream through several slashes on his chest and abdomen that wouldn’t heal and continued to reopen so he was simultaneously bleeding out and being poisoned. Luckily, Elena, Kaleb and Aden’s sister, had been able to save him but only by temporarily bonding his life force to the only unmated woman in the room who had been willing to make the sacrifice… Tracy. So here she was, stuck with him for the foreseeable future whilst he searched for his missing brother and she took whatever reason she could to get the hell away from the cabin and all of its happy inhabitants.

“What you thinking about? Not how best to murder me I hope,” Adalai murmured, pushing his own plate away. She waited a beat before doing the same, hoping he wouldn’t push her to eat anymore.

“No, I planned that out within ten minutes of leaving the cabin,” she smirked.

“I don’t doubt it. So what were you thinking about then?”

“Just… all this shit with the resistance I guess.”

“Hmmm… well, that’s not true.”

“How the hell would you know?”

“Well I did spend a week alone with you while you kept me trapped and powerless, plus I thought I was dying and there was no TV so I watched you instead… I have a pretty good idea what you’re thinking about around sixty percent of the time.”

“Uh-huh. That’s bullshit.” She hissed, feeling hot and angry, either at his arrogance or the prospect that he had been watching her so closely.

“Nope. When you’re thinking about the Resistance you get angry. I can feel the anger and hatred coming from you like a radiator. Right now you’re not angry. In fact, I don’t feel anything from you at all so it must be a positive emotion. Now I’m fairly certain you’re not happy because I don’t think you even know how to be happy so I’m guessing its either gratitude, desire or relief. You don’t seem the type to get warm and fuzzy with overwhelming thoughts of gratitude and I can’t smell the scent of arousal so it must be relief, especially since you seem more relaxed out here than you ever did at the cabin. Why are you so relieved?”

“Seriously? Supernatural Sherlock Holmes… You think you’re so damn clever, don’t you? Big, damn Demon with all the freaking answers! Screw you!” She hissed throwing the fork she had been rolling between her fingers down on the table sending a smattering of maple syrup over Adalai’s fitted blue t-shirt and pushed out of her chair with a clatter before she stalked out of the diner. She made it outside, climbed inside the passenger seat of the car Aden had leant them and slammed the door shut. Her chest was rising and falling quickly and she felt dangerously close to a panic attack. He shouldn’t be able to read her like that. She took every damn precaution she could think of, had done for years. Used her magic to change her appearance, mask her aura and never let her emotions show… ever. The only person who could tell how she really felt was Alexa. Damn demi-god had to be a freaking Empath, didn’t she! The fact that after only a week, Adalai was able to read her so easily shook her to her very core and the knowledge that she was stuck with him for at least the next fortnight wasn’t helping matters. Elena had said that the spell she had performed would run out of their systems in a few weeks but in the meantime they needed to stay near each other or Adalai would die anyway. So she had many more days with the insufferable ass and then he could kiss hers goodbye.

“Get out. You’re driving, remember?” Adalai’s face appeared at the window making her jump. When his words sunk in she started to panic but she refused to let it show as she climbed out of the car, her hands shaking and her knees weak. She snatched the keys from his hand and stalked round to the driver’s side. Taking her time she slowly climbed behind the wheel and placed the key into the ignition with trembling fingers. She glanced beside her to find Adalai eyeing her with a bemused expression.

“What?”

“You can’t drive.” He said it as a statement of fact but she felt the need to deny it anyway.

“Of course I can,” she snapped, her cheeks reddening out of frustration. Weakness. She was showing weakness and she hated it. “It’s just… been a while.” He just raised his eyebrows at her and she felt her irritation grow. Determined to prove that he was wrong, she turned the key and slowly pushed her foot down on the accelerator. When the car didn’t move she pushed harder. It turned out to be a little too hard… and she had it in the wrong damn gear. The car jerked backwards directly into the bushes behind it. She yelped and lifted her foot off of the pedal before she ended up putting the trunk inside a tree.

“A very long while, I’m guessing.” He smiled, taking obvious delight in her humiliation.

“Alright, fine! I can’t drive. Happy now?”

“Extremely. I’ll teach you and in return you have to talk to me for the rest of the journey. I hate awkward silences.”

“No you prefer awkward conversations instead.”

“Naturally… they’re much more fun.”

“You’ll really teach me?” she asked, feeling more than a little vulnerable.

“I will. I would give you my word but you’ve already shown the high regard you give that sentiment.”

“Fine. But… I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone. Not even Alexa.”

“I won’t tell a soul but only if you answer any questions I ask during the drive.”

“Only if you answer my questions as well,” she countered, unwilling to be outmanoeuvred.

“Deal.”

“Okay… so… what do I do?” she asked, vulnerability once again creeping under her skin and then it began. Adalai was a thorough and patient teacher. He started with explaining the use of mirrors, the different gears and what each dial meant on the dashboard before he even let her move out of the damn bush but she listened eagerly anyway. No-one had ever taught her anything before… not since her Mother. Well, except for… nope. Not going there, Tracy. After a few jerky movements she finally got the car out of the bush but controlling the pedals was harder than it looked.

“Whoa… you’re pushing down on the pedal too hard… here, look,” Adalai reached over and placed his hand on her knee.

“What’re you doing? Get off!”

“Calm down, Vamps, just let me guide you because we’re never going to make it to New York at this rate,” he replied patiently, keeping his hand on her knee. The heat from his palm was distracting and the tingles it sent down her leg, causing her toes to curl in her sneakers wasn’t helping her concentration any. Mentally shaking herself she followed his hand as he applied a little pressure and slowly pushed down on the pedal with her foot. After a moment she lost her momentum and pushed down harder. Adalai squeezed her knee and she pulled her foot up altogether.

“Good try. Again,” he murmured, releasing her knee a little. She found it easier to breathe when he wasn’t gripping her and this time when she pushed down on the pedal she was able to move the car out of the parking space with ease. Manoeuvring the steering wheel was a little harder but after about ten minutes and a thirty point turn she felt like she had the hang of it.

“Okay, just keep your foot on the pedal and don’t go above seventy. Got it?”

“Got it…” Tracy murmured, chewing on her upper lip as she sat rigidly in her seat, her eyes glued on the seemingly never-ending road ahead. And then the questions started.

Chapter Two

“So… why did you volunteer to temporarily bond our life-forces and save my life…? And please remember that I can tell when you’re lying.”

“Wow… jumping straight for the jugular huh? Fine… honestly, I just needed to get out. I’m not good around people and the cabin was getting a little crowded with all the people Aden and Teresa brought back from Halycon,” she wasn’t sure why she was admitting that but it felt good to be honest for once. Halycon was the city of the Fae. Aden and Teresa had travelled there a week ago to save Elena who had been cursed by a mage into an eternal slumber seven years before. Halycon had practiced the enslavement of other supernatural races and from what she could gather, following the death of her sister, Teresa had lost her shit and set about taking the whole structure down with Aden’s help. When it was all over, they had returned to the cabin with several other supes in tow and Tracy had been more than eager to take any mission going if it meant she could get the hell out of dodge. Even if it meant tying herself to the large demon.

“And yet, we’re going to New York… You do know that there are literally thousands of people in New York, right?”

“Yes I know that, but… they won’t expect anything from me, like… conversation,” she muttered, the truth bug firmly biting her on the ass.

“Well, that’s more than a little anti-social,” he murmured with a smirk.

“What kind of Demon are you?” she asked, looking to even the score. He sighed and ran his hand over his face.

“Wrath Demon,” he muttered with a scowl.

“Ok… why is that a problem?”

“It’s not.”

“Seems like you think it is… maybe I can see when you’re bullshitting as well,” she replied with a smirk.

“Alright, fine. It’s a problem because when people hear you are a wrath demon most don’t think you’re capable of anything other than anger and vengeance. You become only what you are instead of who you are and that bothers me.”

“Shit… that’s deep,” she murmured with a sardonic grin. He rolled his eyes and spied her from the corner of his eye but the corners of his mouth quirked up in a smile. After that the mood lightened a little. Adalai asked her about her weapons, two short swords that she had wrapped up in fabric and currently lay across the back seat; and she asked him about his own weapons. Surprisingly, he had quite a few. Two daggers, one thin and straight with a round carved handle at the top and another curved with a sharp blade on one side and a serrated edge on the other. Laying on the back seat he also had a silver baton with a button which caused a long spear-like silver blade to shoot from the base. She liked that one the best. Besides that, he also had a tomahawk axe and a bow and quiver full of feathered arrows with silver tips. He was a walking freaking arsenal. Eventually the sun went down and Adalai was suggesting a switch.

“We can either drive through the night or get a motel room, you choose,” he murmured, stifling a yawn.

“How much further is it?”

“We’ve got about another twelve hours on the road. Besides, I’m starving.”

“Ok well, let’s stop for the night then,” she conceded and carefully pulled the car over to the side of road.

“Don’t forget the handbrake.”

“I got it, I got it,” she muttered, double checking her mirrors.

“Well done, you did good,” Adalai said, as he climbed into the driver’s seat and she felt a blush creeping up her cheeks at the unexpected compliment.

“Er… thanks. Thanks for teaching me to drive, I mean. I er- well, it was easier than I thought it was going to be.”

“Yeah. Why were you so worried about it in the first place?”

“I don’t know… I guess the idea of being in control of what is essentially a big metallic beast of a weapon was a bit daunting,” she confessed, feeling a bit silly now that she had been driving for the past six hours.

“You’re a female mage, the only one of your kind, with unknown abilities and yet driving a car was daunting? By the Gods, woman, you’ve got issues,” he said with an exaggerated eye roll.

“Shut up, idiot,” she chuckled, surprising herself. She could remember clearly the last time she had laughed. It had been a couple of weeks before, before all this mess with the resistance started, and it had been at Aden and his impeccable timing. The time before that had been years, so many that she had forgotten what it was like to laugh with someone, if she had ever done so at all. It felt strange, foreign in her mouth, as though she was using muscles she hadn’t even known she owned. It frightened her, made her feel weak and vulnerable; feelings she had been trying to avoid since she was six years old. They drove in uncomfortable silence, at least on Tracy’s part, until Adalai pulled into a motel parking lot off of the interstate.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” she murmured, climbing out of the SUV. They had agreed that she would be the one to book in and Adalai would stay out of sight wherever possible considering hers was the only face not on the Resistance’s hit list. Adalai had asked her about that as well. She suspected it was because the Resistance didn’t know of her abilities. In mage families only the males had mage abilities. Similarly in Witch families only the females were able to utilise magic. Until Tracy. She was an oddity and the only thing that seemed to work in her favour was the fact that she had kept her secret from everyone for so long. Her brothers and her Father hadn’t known until the end and they were all dead now, except for Carl, he was on death row rotting in a human jail cell in Texas. She should have been able to run after that, disappear under the radar and live like a human, if it hadn’t been for Alexa. She had been forced to show herself for what she was, the female mage, unencumbered by the need for a talisman like witches were and still able to perform blood magic like mages… yep, she was an oddity alright and now everybody knew it except apparently for the Resistance. She tried to be grateful for that but the fact that anyone at all knew her secret was a difficult pill to swallow. The motel looked like something out of The Shining. Too light and bright on the outside for a motel in the middle of nowhere. Its stone walls with carved details sent an eerie tingle down her spine as she approached the main entrance. Once inside, the deep burgundy carpets and beige walls didn’t make it any better. The musty smell of time was heavy in the air and she could hear the history of the once lively and prestigious hotel in every creak of the floorboards beneath her feet. An elderly lady with a thousand lifetimes buried in her eyes looked up over a dusty oak counter.

“Can I help you dear?” she croaked, not in the least bit surprised at Tracy’s late appearance.

“Er yes. I need two rooms… er please,” so she was a little out of touch with run of the mill conversation.

“Of course…” the woman said and after an assessing glance up and down at Tracy she began fiddling with a keyboard attached to a computer that seemed older than freaking time. As a general rule supes didn’t get on with technology. They had a larger magnetic field than humans so using computers, smartphones and other gadgets was problematic at times but Tracy had always been fascinated with them all the same. Of course, the Fae force fields surrounding all the supernatural and demon cities directly interfered with any technology such as the internet or phone signal so in their world it was a pretty useless endeavour but she was intrigued anyway. When she was finished with this mission for Alexa and her link to Adalai had disintegrated that’s what she wanted. She was gonna move far away to another state, maybe even another country, learn about computers and live as a human… maybe it was a lame plan but at least she could be alone… she could hide.

“Room forty two and forty three, just go outside, turn left and follow the path. You’ll find it.”

“Oh, thanks. Erm- is there anywhere around here where we can get some food?”

“I’m afraid the restaurant is closed but you can order to your rooms. Just press nine on the room phone and you’ll come straight through to me,” she smiled pleasantly and pushed a room service menu across the counter along with the room card keys.

“Thank you,” Tracy murmured, grabbing them hastily and retreating quickly outside. It would have been easier if the old lady had been cold or bitter, she could handle that a lot easier than kindness. Kindness was a mask that people wore when they didn’t want you to know their true intentions. It was fake and untrustworthy and she found it unpredictable. At least if someone was outwardly an asshole she knew what to expect from them, rather than feeling like the smiling faces of ‘nice’ people would be burying a knife in her back as soon as she turned around. Adalai was leaning against the car, two satchels in one hand and the wrapped weapons in the other. Tracy beckoned him over and began marching down the left side of the building. She opened the first room and ushered him inside.

“Here’s your key, I think your rooms next door. The woman at the counter said to order food from room service.” She muttered passing him the key and the menu. Adalai took them both then threw his key down on the bedside table and flopped down on the double bed. She stared at him for a moment. Was he serious?

“Er… you have a phone in your room, you know?” she said, her eyebrows raised in an attempt to get him to leave. An attempt that failed miserably.

“I assumed as much but if I went in there then I wouldn’t be able to make sure you ate something and as I said… I have instructions. How about steak sandwiches? They serve them with cheese.”

She floundered for a minute, her jaw dropping slightly as she stared at him with equal parts irritation and disbelief. When he looked up at her, his red eyes peeking above his dark glasses she understood he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Fine. Whatever. I’m taking a shower.”

“Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.” She stopped still at his words, taking a deep breath to assuage the anger rising within her. That in itself was enough to shock her. She didn’t get angry anymore. Alexa had been kidnapped by her own sadistic Father a few weeks before and Tracy had felt annoyed that the son of a bitch was still breathing. Annoyed enough to fight beside Kaleb, Aden and Teresa to rescue her but it was a surface emotion, she hadn’t really felt anything deep down. Nor had she felt anything when Alexa and Kaleb told her that her Father had been killed during that mission. She had felt a little grateful that it hadn’t been Alexa that had killed the old man but only because she would have felt jealous if she had. Adalai had said he could feel her anger whenever she thought about the resistance but he was wrong because anger required a deep emotion, seated somewhere within, and all she felt was irritation. Bored and frustrated irritation. Yet, here she was, standing in the middle of a creepy hotel room feeling hot and flustered and… angry… at the annoyingly persistent demon lounging on her bed. She breathed out through her nose and made it into the bathroom but when she closed the door behind her the jackass started whistling and she almost marched back out and slapped him right in his overly handsome face. Instead she was able to flip on the shower, strip off and climb inside, shedding the magic that kept her image in place she felt her hair grow longer her facial features grow more angular and of course, her scar. She ran her fingers over her cheekbone feeling the thin indent that marred it. The scar dissected her eyebrow and ran down her cheekbone in a cruel twisted fashion that gave her nothing but memories. She stood beneath the water for a long time until there was a knock at the door. She froze under the running water, panic crawling up her throat as she tried to imbue her body with the magic needed to hide herself.

“Foods here, Vamps. Hurry up in there.”

“I’ll be there in a minute, damn it.”

“Uh-huh,” she heard his footsteps walking away and after taking a second to breathe and unclench her fists she climbed out of the shower and stood in front of the mirror. Using a towel she wiped the steam off of the mirror and looked at her true self. Frowning she realised it was like looking at a stranger. Since before her Mother died, when she was five years old, she had been hiding her appearance. At first it was to keep some part of herself to herself and then it was a failsafe for when she finally managed to get away. No-one could find you if they didn’t know what you looked like. Tilting her head at her reflection she thought again how odd it was that Adalai had been fairly close when he described how he thought she should look. She had long jet black hair that trailed down her back. Not for any fashion reason but because she had never cut it. Her eyes were a light ice blue with a thick black band encircling the iris and were a little vampiric she supposed. Other than the ugly scar over her eye her skin was clear and pale, but that was because it never saw the sun. Not in this form. Sighing a little she closed her eyes and muttered the incantation she knew better than she knew her own name.

“Recensere Celo,” she murmured and when she opened her eyes she was the same plain version of herself the world was used to. Her hair was much shorter and a lank brown and her eyes were a duller brown to match. Her face was a little fuller and generally non-descript and of course her scar was hidden beneath her magic. She quickly towelled herself off and threw on her clothes, realising too late that she had left her bag with Adalai. Taking a deep breath she opened the door to find Adalai back in his position on the bed a plated sandwich and salad on his lap and another on the bed beside him.

“About time. What exactly were you doing in there? Primping?”

“I was having a shower,” she muttered, sitting uncomfortably on the edge of the bed.

“Really? Your hairs dry…”

Shit. “I am a mage you know. Magic and all that.”

“Oh right. I forgot what that feels like since someone bound my powers and refuses to give them back.” She gave him a scathing look but didn’t say anything as she pulled her plate towards her, eying it with trepidation.

“You didn’t have to wait for me, you know,” she muttered, picking at a piece of lettuce.

“I don’t like eating alone. Same rules apply by the way. If you don’t eat-,” he began.

“What? You’ll sing all night?”

“No, I just won’t leave.”

“Asshole.” She knew she could probably throw him out but then she’d risk showing herself, showing the extent of her powers, something she had promised her Mother she’d never do. Instead she grabbed the sandwich and shovelled as much into her mouth as she could, her nostrils flaring. Adalai watched her in fascination as she demolished first one sandwich and then the other, before sitting back.

“You alright? You look kinda green,” he asked with a smirk and before she could reply she felt her stomach twist and her mouth fill with saliva as her body warned her that she was about to see her sandwich again. Her eyes widened and she raced into the bathroom just in time to reach the toilet as her gag reflex started working overtime. When she was thoroughly spent and sweat was pouring down her forehead she leaned back against the wall panting.

“So… you do have an eating disorder, huh? I didn’t realise how close I was to the truth earlier. You should probably see a shrink or something.”

“Screw you,” she croaked, wiping her forehead on her forearm. “I don’t have an eating disorder. I like food. I like to eat. I just… I just can’t handle too much.”

“Why not?”

“What’s it to you, huh? I ate the damn sandwich like you wanted. Now do me a favour and fuck off!” She screamed, losing her cool for the first time outside of a fight in a long while.

“Oh don’t be so dramatic… and don’t throw up over me either,” he said, swiftly walking towards her and scooping her up before she had the chance to say a word let alone fight him off. He carried her into the bedroom and held her body with one arm as he used his other hand to pull back the covers on the bed. Within a few moments she was frowning up at him as he tucked her in.

“Get some sleep, Vamps. I’ll wake you up in the morning.” He said nothing else, barely spared her another glance, as he picked up his half eaten sandwich and room key and quietly left her to her own devices. Why the hell did he make her so angry? No-one had been able to illicit any kind of emotion from her in years with the exception of Alexa. She recalled the first time she had met Kaleb, Alexa’s mate. She had been in New York where Alexa had sent her after finding her beaten one night in the basement under her Father’s house. Alexa had been investigating the disappearance of Teresa’s niece and her investigation led her to Tracy’s family home. Alexa was right to be led there as she soon discovered when Tracy held a knife to her throat and almost killed her before the other woman turned the tables and threw her on her ass. Alexa had helped her disappear and in return Tracy had told her everything. She had tasted freedom for about a minute when her brother James turned up and dragged her kicking and screaming back to Armstrong County. She had been thrown back in her basement with the soul shattering revelation that they knew… they knew what she was and they were never letting her go. She had been overcome with anger that night and determined to end it all until she heard her Father screaming at his men that he needed vengeance for his sons. James had been killed and Carl was in prison and it was all thanks to Alexa. She had killed the man guarding the entrance to her basement and escaped, making her way to Alexa’s home in time to end the life of one of her Father’s men as two more made it inside. By the time she had made it through the back door Alexa was in the arms of the largest shifter she had ever seen and her Fathers men were dead at their feet. Tracy had made a decision then. Her Father knew what she was and he would never stop looking for her so she decided to end it altogether. She had charged the only friend she’d ever known in the hope that the large shifter would stop her, end her suffering but once again, Alexa simultaneously saved her ass and screwed her over. She’d lived and it made her cry for the first time in nearly fifteen years. That was the first and last time she had been vulnerable in front of anyone besides her Mother until tonight. Adalai had seen a weakness in her and it bothered her. She spent the night tossing and turning in bed until sleep finally caught up with her. As unconsciousness took over she felt her magic seep back inside as her hair grew longer and her face changed. That was the real reason she didn’t want to unbind Adalai’s demonic powers because if she did then she wouldn’t be able to control his sleep patterns. She had linked his consciousness to hers so if she slept then so did he and once she unbound his powers he would be able to walk in and see her as she was whenever he felt like it. It was a vulnerability she wasn’t willing to suffer. She had fitful dreams that night centred on the weakness he seemed to be able to inspire in her and she despised him for it. How could he do so much more to her than her Father and brothers had been able to do with all their spite and cruelty? It didn’t seem right. Must be a demon thing…

Chapter Three

Adalai woke on the floor for maybe the third time that week only this time he was butt naked. He gripped his head with a growl. The last thing he remembered he had climbed out of the shower, walked in the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, cursed at himself for forgetting his bag in Tracy’s room and then… nothing. Then he woke up his arm beneath his body and numb from the weight and his ass freezing. He knew it was Tracy, had known since perhaps the second time but now he’d reached his limit. He clambered to his feet and then without a second thought he marched out of his hotel room and began pounding on Tracy’s door. Within a few moments she opened it a crack with a frown that quickly turned into wide-eyed surprise until Adalai pushed his way into the room without so much as a good morning.

“Wh-what are you…”

“Hmm? Oh don’t mind me I woke up like this on the floor this morning. You see this week I have inextricably passed out on the damn floor a few times but this is the first time it happened whilst I’ve been naked. I figured you must be doing it for a reason and seeing my bare ass is the only one that makes any damn sense to me so here I am Vamps. Just how you wanted me, right?”

“No I- I didn’t… put some damn pants on, dammit,” she stammered walking backwards in an effort to get away from his morning wood. Hell, he might be a demon but he was still a man.

“No I don’t think so. Because of you I had to sleep on the damn floor like this so I think that I’ll just parade around as naked as the day I was born for a few hours. What’s the matter? Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“I… yes it makes me uncomfortable,” she yelled, throwing her hands up in the air in defeat.

“Oh well, too bad, Princess! I guess now you know how I felt when I woke up with balls the size of raisins because I was freezing my ass off all night!”

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry you passed out on the floor, okay? Now will you please put some pants on?”

“Not until you unbind me,” he said stubbornly, planting his feet shoulder width apart on the floor and letting it all hang loose much to Tracy’s obvious discomfort.

“No… I can’t… I, please…” she stammered, backing into the wall as though he was coming for her.

“Why the hell not? Have I ever done anything that suggested I couldn’t be trusted? Or that I would hurt you?”

“People hurt people… that’s just what they do…” she murmured, closing her eyes and resting her head against the wall. “Please, put some damn pants on.” That stumped him a bit and tugged at his heart strings. Demons were said to be heartless, without an ounce of compassion, but he knew that to be false. He’d often been told that his soft heart was going to get him in deep trouble one day and he had a feeling that day had come. Damn crazy woman.

“Fine but I’m not waking up on the floor anymore so you and I will be sleeping in the same room from now on. If you don’t like it then you can just unbind my powers instead.” He said without making a move. Tracy opened her eyes and gave him a death stare that he was sure would make his balls shrivel up and fall off if he hadn’t been so irritated. After a few moments he was certain she was either about to kill him with her brain or pull out a blade and castrate him, instead though she thankfully gave him a nod and he turned to dig a pair of pants out of his bag. He pulled them on with a huff, his nostrils still flaring in annoyance before turning back to find that Tracy had sunk down the wall and had wrapped her arms around her knees. She rocked back and forth and he felt like an asshole.

“Hey… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you…”

“You didn’t. Are you ready to go?” She asked suddenly, standing abruptly and grabbing her bag off the floor. She pulled out a long sleeved black jumper dress and a pair of leggings and disappeared into the bathroom without looking at him. A few moments later she was back, fully dressed, and pulling on her dark brown Doc Martens. Adalai pulled on a white t-shirt and a black hoodie as well as the black workman boots Kaleb had lent him and they were ready to go at roughly the same time. It was a quiet journey after that. Adalai drove for the first six hours, then they stopped for lunch and Tracy took over after that. They were about half an hour away from Tracy’s apartment in downtown New York when Adalai took the driver’s seat once more and finally forced something more than a murmur or a grunt out of her.

“This is ridiculous. You’ve had a sulk, time to get over it, okay?”

“Excuse me? Screw you, Adalai. I’m not sulking, I’m trying to force the image of your naked body from my mind.”

“We both know there is nothing wrong with my naked body. Unless… are you a lesbian?”

“What? No.”

“Just saying its fine if you are. I’m open to all forms of sexuality… well, I draw the line at foot fetishes… that’s just weird.”

“Oh my God, I’m straight, I just don’t want to see you naked. Okay?”

“Sure you don’t. I believe you, thousands wouldn’t. Anyway, I’m glad you’re finally talking to me with words and not monosyllabic noises because we need to make a plan.”

“What’s to plan? We get to my place, spend the night and in the morning we investigate Colleen’s murder and then we find your damn brother. Plan made.”

“Uh-huh. And when we investigate your friends murder-,” he began gently but she interrupted him.

“She wasn’t my friend.”

“No? So why did you agree to do this?”

“My brother killed her daughter,” she muttered abruptly and slowly the cogs began to turn in his head fitting things together in a messy jigsaw puzzle that didn’t make much sense.

“But Colleen was Teresa’s sister… Teresa… the woman you’ve been living with the past couple of weeks except for her foray to Fae-land?”

“One and the same.”

“Wow. And I thought I had difficult relationships.”

“Yeah… my Father also kidnapped Alexa and tortured her. Kaleb killed one of my brothers and Alexa put the other in prison for killing Colleen’s daughter…” she murmured, then frowned at herself as though she was surprised at the admission or maybe it was the lack of emotion in her voice when she had admitted it. Adalai frowned as well. Some people were very good at masking their emotions on the surface but he felt every negative feeling they had anyway but just then he felt nothing from her. Nothing negative anyway. No sense of loss or grief or guilt or anger… she felt nothing.

“Well, normally I’d say I was sorry for your loss but you don’t seem all that sorry yourself.”

“Why would I be sorry? They were assholes. Deserved what they got,” she murmured, her eyes glued to the scenery out the window. He just hoped she didn’t get car sick because he wasn’t cleaning that up…

“Okay… well, how are we investigating the murder then? Just turning up at the scene and going from there?”

“Pretty much. Unless you have a better idea,” she grumbled and he rolled his eyes. It was difficult to tell if she was being childish or just sullen. Either way it was hard work. “Whatever… take a left here,” Adalai sighed and followed her instructions until he was ordered, not asked, to pull up outside an apartment block that seemed a little run down considering the area. He had barely put the car in park when Tracy opened the door and darted out. He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter before releasing a sigh, grabbing his bag and following after her. He found her on the third floor, outside an apartment door… picking the lock.

“I thought this was your place?”

“It’s mine as in I’m the only one who lives here. This whole building is going to be demolished in the next couple of months to make way for a new shopping mall or wellness centre or whatever the humans think is important… so I’m getting some use out of it in the meantime,” she muttered as she worked on the lock with a nail file and a thin metal wire. After a moment an audible click sounded down the dark, dusty hall and the door swung open with a creak. Tracy stood quickly and marched inside flicking the light switch on to no effect. He heard her muttering expletives as she pulled drawers open in search of candles not that he needed them. She may have bound his powers but his ability to see in the dark couldn’t be taken away from him… unless she poked his eyes out. He gave her a sideways look at the thought. He wouldn’t put it past her. The woman scared the crap out of him and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. She was too unpredictable and apparently unfeeling… she was unusual. Eventually, Tracy found the candles and some matches and was blinking her eyes against the light as he busied himself with looking around. In the main room there were the remains of a beaten lime green sofa, an old but sturdy bed frame with a moth eaten mattress on it and a small table with three chairs in the corner. It wasn’t much but he’d seen worse. Even though she hadn’t been there in a few weeks the place was clean and tidy with just a thin layer of dust on the surfaces. The kitchen didn’t have a refrigerator or even an oven, instead neatly stacked on the counter were a few plates and small portable hob as well as a few tins of tuna, beans and ravioli. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he’d seen worse but he had to admit this was pretty sad.

“Let’s go get something to eat,” he suggested, coming back into the living room. “I promise I won’t make you eat more than you want to.”

“You don’t fancy the ravioli huh? You like Pizza?”

“Who doesn’t like Pizza? Let’s go,” he said with a grin, his stomach rumbling greedily at the thought. She nodded and allowed him to lead her out the door. Now that she was in her own space she seemed to be at least feigning civility. With her it was difficult to tell. She led him to a small pizza parlour and they got a large Ham and Mushroom to share. She had good taste in food even if she didn’t eat much of it, he’d give her that. Mushrooms reminded him of his Mother and the garden she used to tend them in and he told Tracy as much.

“Where is she? Your mother?” she asked, sipping on a coke. The question surprised him or at least the fact that it was her who was asking it did but he did his best to hide it.

“Dead. She died just under ninety years ago,” he murmured with a melancholic smile.

“I’m sorry, my Mother is dead too. Nearly fifteen years now.”

“Yeah… it sucks.”

“That it does,” she said with a wry grin and a shake of her head. “How did yours die?”

“Well, now, that’s a personal question,” he murmured, again taken by surprise. The past week or so she had made no effort to tell him any personal details of her own life or find out anything about him and yet here they were; two personal questions in one night. Obviously, she felt safer here, in New York, than she had at the cabin. Strange. “My Father killed her.”

“You’re lying… how did you know that? Who did you talk to?” she said, standing suddenly, all traces of civility gone in an instant and replaced with fear and anger that he could feel tangibly around him.

“Know what? Why am I lying?” he demanded, but then he understood her outrage. He had felt it too himself once. “Tracy I didn’t know. I swear. My Father killed my Mother for being a Demon. He was a human. He didn’t know she was a demon until she was giving birth to me and she showed herself for what she was. He killed her and I almost died until my brother found us and cut me out of her.”

She had stood stock still but the obvious truth in his words and the sadness enveloping him convinced her to sit down.

“I… I’m sorry. My Father killed my Mother too. She was a Witch. He kidnapped her, kept her for his personal plaything. He was trying to harvest her powers to add to his own but it never worked.”

“I’m sorry, Tracy.”

“I’m not looking for sympathy, Adalai.”

“That’s good Vamps, but just in case you are, you’ll find it in the dictionary between shit and syphilis.” Her face deadpanned as she looked up at him until a smile cracked the surface and then she… laughed. A throaty sound that seemed foreign to her but looked good nonetheless. It wasn’t the laugh that threw him though. It was the flicker of her image that stunned him. For a moment, gone was the dry brown shoulder length hair and brown eyes and in their place was long black hair, ice blue eyes and a scar that spoke of untold pain. He had been right. She was hiding. Hiding in plain sight. Good for her, he guessed, though he was struck by a sudden desire to see her true face once again. Not wanting her to shut down again, he decided it would be better to say nothing about it. They spent the next hour munching on pizza and drinking beer. She had shocked him yet again with that. Apparently she didn’t like whiskey or vodka or any other spirit but she did enjoy a nice cold one. A hobby he could get behind.

“So do you know any of the strip clubs in New York?”

“No, why?”

“If my brother is here, then we’ll likely find him in one of them.”

“Wow… he likes strippers, huh?”

“Something like that.”

“I don’t know any but I have an old laptop back at the apartment we can check.”

“Sure. What about the brothels?” He watched with a smirk when she choked on her beer at his question.

“He likes hookers too?”

“If I know my brother, which I do, he has a very special place in his heart for ladies of the night,” he murmured, enjoying the picture he was painting of his kin.

“I don’t know of any brothels, strip clubs, sex houses… hell, I don’t even know where the parks are.”

“How long did you live in New York?”

“About ten weeks.”

“And all you’ve found in that time was this pizza place?”

“I like pizza,” she said with a shrug. Actually, he had seen her eat four slices which considering she threw up a meagre sandwich the night before was pretty impressive for her. She really did like pizza.

“Well, stick with me Vamps and I’ll show you around.”

“You don’t know where anything is either,” she scoffed, with a grin finishing off her second beer.

“It’ll be an adventure then, wont it?” he replied with exaggerated excitement and she chuckled at him. Once again the face she was wearing flickered out of existence and the delicate porcelain skin beneath shone through. He had been right… Vampirella indeed.

Chapter Four

Tracy sat on the sofa beside Adalai with the laptop on her lap. It was ancient and clunky but it was hers… at least it was now.

“Where did you get this thing?” he asked, seemingly reading her mind.

“I stole it,” she murmured, waiting for the lecture. Alexa had given her one not too long ago so she was prepared but it never came.

Instead he just said, “You could have stolen a better one.”

“I’ll remember that next time,” she said with a grin. “You don’t care?”

“I’d be a hypocrite if I did, wouldn’t I? You do remember that I’m a smuggler, thief and general criminal, right?”

“Of course, how could I forget? There are a lot of strip clubs here, do you have a way to narrow it down?”

“He’d be at one of the seedy ones.”

“Huh… how about this one. It’s called the Bump and Grind… it’s not far from here. You wanna go now?”

“You’re not tired?”

“Not really,” she admitted, if anything she felt restless. A few more beers might do the trick but as it was she had an abundance of energy she needed to get rid of.

“Alright. We should change though. I’m starting to smell. Is there hot water?”

“Should be. I’ll check.” Tracy shuffled off to the bathroom and was happy to find that the water hadn’t been stopped along with the electricity. It came out hot and she felt some of her tension melt away beneath it. She shouted to Adalai that she was going first, stripped off and dived under the shower quicker than a cat would dive out of it. Fifteen minutes later she felt much more human, no pun intended, wrapped in a fluffy towel that only faintly smelled of damp. Carefully she reconstructed her face and hid her true image before she walked back into the bedroom/living room.

“Ooh… is it my turn for the full frontal?” Adalai asked with a sly smile.

“You wish, Demon. Showers all yours,” shaking her head she picked out some clothes from the dilapidated dresser beside her bed as he swaggered off to the bathroom with a whistle. She didn’t have a lot of clothes. When she’d left Armstrong with Alexa’s help she’d left with only the clothes on her back, a fake ID and a wad of cash, courtesy of Alexa. She had added a few thrift shop outfits but nothing fancy, except for one dress. Of course, she hadn’t bought the dress but that was neither here nor there. She quickly put on some underwear and a bra and pulled the little black dress over her head. It cinched in at the waist and flared out like a tutu with black netting covered in satin. The top was fitted and sculpted her breasts perfectly with a high neck line that ended with a small collar. It was perhaps the most feminine thing she owned and she loved it even if it made her feel uncomfortable. The best part about it though, in her opinion, was the thigh holster that held her short swords on each leg. The tutu was long enough to hide the weapons and short enough to not get in the way if she needed to access them, not that she was looking to get into a fight tonight. She just liked to be prepared. She finished off her look with a pair of black fishnets and her Doc Martens, as she hadn’t thought to get more than one pair of shoes. Oh well, DMs go with pretty much everything. Sighing she looked at the drab face she wore in the mirror and began fiddling with her hair in an attempt to look the part of a carefree woman on the prowl in seedy stripper bars.

“Autem,” she muttered and watched as her hair gathered together to form a bun on the top of her head. She studied it for a moment and then changed her mind. “Recensere descendit.” Her hair fell down into wavy curls to her shoulders but she wasn’t keen on that look either. “Recensere autem descendit,” she murmured and her hair once again gathered together but this time it settled into a half up, half down do with a few flyaway strands at the front. It might not be her face but she didn’t look too bad.

“Faciem pingere,” she murmured and watched as a subtle colour painted her lips, blush covered her cheeks and a smoky eye shadow consumed her eyelids. It was a little heavier than she was used to but it looked good, though a sneaky voice in her head said it would have looked better, had it been on her real face. She turned to see Adalai buttoning a burgundy shirt that contrasted beautifully with his copper skin and dark hair. The dress pants and shoes he wore with it only added to the effect. He pulled a black suit jacket from his bag and pulled it over his broad shoulders.

“What?”

“Nothing… where did you get the suit?”

“Kaleb. Where did you get the dress?”

“Stole it. Ready?”

“Sure… maybe you could steal us a cab on the way…”

“Ha… I only steal what I need,” she said, a little defensively.

“Yes, because having a little black dress is an essential part of living,” he murmured, raising his eyebrows with a grin.

“Well, I needed it tonight, didn’t I? Shut up. Don’t judge me,” she muttered through gritted teeth as she used her pick to lock the front door.

“No judgment here, Vamps. You look good,” was his reply as he walked away and damn did he look good doing it. His sculpted body beneath the fine clothes and the confident swagger in his walk… that demon knew how attractive he was and he wasn’t afraid to use it. His words did something to her too. Suddenly, she wanted so badly to hear him say something like that and be talking about her… the real her. She wanted to hear anybody say something nice about who she really was and not who she pretended to be. The thought gave her a sense of wonder that it could actually happen and overwhelming sadness at the knowledge that it never would. She would forever be Tracy Rogers, sister to murdering rapists and daughter to an insane zealot with a penchant for torture. No-one would ever even know her real name…

“You waiting for an invitation there, Vampy?”

“Huh? Oh… sorry,” she hurried down the hall and followed him down the three flights of stairs until they finally made it outside to a cool New York breeze and walked the three blocks to the Bump and Grind. The wind gathered her hair behind her neck and sent a shiver down her spine. Of course, the overly perceptive Demon noticed.

“Here, put this on,” he removed his jacket and held it out to her. She just stared at it.

“Why?”

“You’re cold, aren’t you?”

“I’m fine, Adalai.”

“It’s a jacket, not a marriage proposal. It won’t put you in any debt to me,” he added, arching an eyebrow.

“I said I’m fine,” she hissed, walking faster. Why did he have to be so freaking attentive? He noticed every little move she made and worse he seemed to understand her motivations as well. He didn’t judge, he just accepted and it made it really difficult to get on board with her usual ignore and avoid procedure. Shit. She was actually starting to like him and that was the most worrying part of all. She heard him sigh as she soldiered on ahead but he didn’t say anything. She suspected he was trying to keep the peace; she was a little difficult to spend time with. There was no point in denying it. She came to a halt outside the Bump and Grind where an overly large bouncer who looked like an albino gorilla on steroids peered down at her. His bald, pinkish head glistened under the neon lights as his beady eyes looked her up and down.

“Erm… hi.”

“ID?” he grunted, obviously questioning her age and her eyes widened. Of all the things she had prepared herself for, a damn ID card wasn’t one of them. She was almost twenty-two so age wasn’t an issue but she had no way to prove it.

“Er- sure. Just a sec,” she mumbled as Adalai came to stand behind her. Shit, shit, shit.

“What’s the problem?”

“He wants ID and I can’t find mine…” she hissed as the gorilla crossed his arms and rolled his eyes with a sigh.

“Come now, my good man, look at her face! You see the crow’s feet, the wrinkles around the mouth that look like a cat’s anus when she puckers up? I’m only with the old bat because she’s got money,” Adalai leaned in to the bouncer and whispered conspiratorially and for a second she was shocked into silence… and then she understood. Closing her eyes she focused on the areas he had mentioned and then looked up at the bouncer with a smile as she continued to pretend to pat down her dress in search of her ID card. The bouncer looked at her face with a raised eyebrow and then did a double take, with a face that said, ‘how the hell did I miss that?’ He shook his head and glanced up at the neon lights before ushering them inside a darkened doorway, highlighted in a red glow, smelling of booze and sex.

“A cat’s anus? Really?”

“Worked didn’t it? You can change your face back now, Vamps,” Adalai said with a grin.

“I already did, asshole.”

“Oh… my bad,” he murmured, working hard to keep the smirk off his face and if she was being honest she wanted to laugh as well.

Instead she shoved him with her hip and called him a “Jackass,” before walking up to the door that would lead them inside the strip club. Of all the places to go in New York… she’d never seen the Hudson River, Central Park, the Empire State Building, or even the Statue of freaking Liberty but she was about to spend an entire evening watching gyrating women in the seediest little strip club she’d ever seen outside of a porno. And in the company of a demon, no less.

Chapter Five

Adalai took a step ahead and pushed open the door. The familiar scent of sex and tobacco and half naked girls hit him in the face like that heat wave you get when you open an oven halfway through cooking. He hadn’t spent much time in the Circle, the neutral city ruled by the lust Demon, Ciran, and a cesspit of sexual debauchery, but it had been enough that he recognised the scent and sounds of desperation and the need to forget anywhere. The bass line was thumping and the tinkling of glasses rimmed with cheap liquor created that depraved sort of ambience all demons craved. It was a place where you didn’t have to pretend. You could be an asshole and no-one would judge you for it. You could be a whore and it would be celebrated, you could pretend to be a prince, or a pauper, and it wouldn’t matter. The people in this kind of place didn’t care who you were, what you were, or the things that you had done as long as you didn’t cause trouble. It was why his brother loved places like this and only part of the reason he was certain he would find him in one.

“Ladies first,” he murmured and watched as Tracy walked past him with a roll of her eyes. He followed her to the bar and watched as she tried so obviously to look anywhere but at the half naked woman currently dancing on stage. It was cute. She acted all tough and as though nothing could touch her but offer her your coat or put her in a room with a pair of naked breasts and she was like a spare prick at a prostitutes wedding. Cute.

“Two beers and some information,” she said to the bartender who raised an eyebrow at her as he pulled two bottles of Becks from under the bar and popped the caps.

“Six Dollars, information costs extra,” he said with a stained, leery smile that sent a shiver of irritation up Adalai’s neck.

“Alright, Romeo. Have you seen this guy?” Adalai pulled the picture of Deran from his inside pocket and slapped it down on the bar. Just looking at it made him angry. Twice, Aden and Teresa had pulled this picture as well as others, including his own, from would-be assassins. The first had been a mage with a gun full of silver bullets who had accosted Teresa in a motel room and the second had been the Head of Halycon, the city of the Fae. He knew that he and his brother were being targeted by the Resistance, he just wasn’t sure why. His association with Kaleb and Alexa, the two who were supposedly going to lead the rebellion against the Resistance couldn’t be enough, surely? The bartender glanced down at it and quickly shook his head but not before Adalai noticed the almost imperceptible widening of his eyes.

“You sure you haven’t seen him, buddy? There’s money in it for you if you have,” Adalai said, surveying the large, flannel wearing man from behind his tinted glasses. That was the one down side about human cities in comparison to supernatural ones; red eyes creep the humans out. And there’s no joy in looking at scantily clad girls with shitty visibility, not to mention the fact that he looked like a douchebag. Who the hell where’s sunglasses in a bar full of naked women? Demons, that’s who. “He would have been wearing sunglasses.”

“Look, just back off man. I said I ain’t seen him so why don’t you take your picture and take a seat. Watch the girls, drink, or get the hell out of my bar,” he growled and Adalai supposed that had he been a human he might have been intimidated. As it was, he was just irritated.

“So you have seen him… that’s okay, we’ll wait and we’ll come back every night until we find him. Of course whilst we’re here we can make things rather difficult for you. You see my sister happens to be a police officer with the NYPD and my Uncle is an Inspector with the Health Department so…” Tracy murmured, oozing sweet innocence behind those dull brown eyes as she smiled up at the bartender. Sneaky little mage. The bartender suddenly reached forward, attempting to grab her arm and Tracy flinched backwards, her hand automatically reaching for the sword strapped to her thigh. Adalai didn’t think, he just reacted. He gripped hold of the bartender and slammed his hand down on the bar at the same time he reached behind the bar and gripped the handle of a small knife used for cutting lemons and lime and with one jab he expertly stabbed it into the bar securing the bartenders shirt to the wood beneath it. As he did, his sunglasses fell to the ground with a clatter.

“You never touch her, you hear me?” he growled. He may be a demon, full of festering darkness but the sight of a man hurting a woman still turned his stomach. He needn’t have bothered saying a word however. Apparently, all he had to do was take off his glasses.

“Y-you’re one of them… j-just like him.” The bartender stammered, his eyes wide as he stared into Adalai’s ruby reds.

“So you do know him. When will he be back?”

“Hopefully never… he came around here until a few weeks ago. I heard he moved on down to the Freaky Trance on the corner of 39th and Western, near the Clinic. Please, get out of my bar. I don’t want any more of you freaks showing up and destroying the natural order of things.” He spat, his words filled with toxic venom.

“Uh-huh… I think we’ll finish our drinks first.” Adalai muttered, more to annoy the bartender than the burning desire to drink his watered down beer.

“No… just get out.”

“I don’t think so, asshole. We’re going to stay for a while, enjoy the scenery and we’re going to drink for free and if you think you can stop us… well, we’ll show you just how freaky we can get,” Tracy said in a quiet, murderous tone that had his balls tightening, let alone the bartender who looked like he was about to piss his pants. “Alternatively, if you have a way to bring him here,” she continued, stabbing at the picture of Deran with her finger, “then we can be out of here a lot faster. Until then, be prepared to deal with us freaks for the rest of the night.” She emphasised the word ‘freaks’ by changing her eye colour to match Adalai’s ruby orbs and the bartender whimpered in response. Tracy reached forward and pulled the knife out of the bar releasing the bartender from its grip and placed it on the lacquered wood. She picked up the photograph and turned around, making her way to a small booth just right of the stage. Adalai bent over and picked up his sunglasses before grabbing the two bottles of beer and nodding at the shell-shocked bartender.

“Keep ‘em coming. You don’t want to see her when she’s in a bad mood. Believe it or not but I’m the nice one.” He had a spring in his step when he went to join Tracy at the booth. Only female mage on the planet and his new personal hero. Woman had an attitude and it was sexy as hell, even if she wasn’t using her real face.

“What are you looking at?”

“You… I’m impressed and somewhat confused…”

“Why?”

“Sometimes you’re so meek, so… damn agreeable. It’s irritating. And then other times, like just then, you kick ass with that attitude. What I wonder is, which one is the real you?”

She said nothing for a long moment and he was certain she wasn’t going to answer but then she surprised him with an odd moment of honesty, “Neither. I do and say whatever’s easiest at any given moment. Sometimes it’s easier to do nothing, say nothing, blend into the background… and others, it’s easier to be a bitch. Don’t, for one moment, think that I give a shit. We have a job to do and that was the easiest way to complete it.” She levelled her eyes at him the entire time she was talking and didn’t break eye contact when she was finished. She just took a swig of her beer and dared him to refute her with her eyes. And dare he did.

“Bullshit. I think that you’re the girl with the attitude but sometimes you’re too afraid to show it. In fact I think you’re afraid most of the time and that’s why you hide your face. Why you wear that mask… the strange thing is that I can’t feel your fear, though I’m starting to think that that’s because afraid is your base line. I can’t feel it because it never switches off.”

“You didn’t tell me you were an Empath,” she muttered, looking uncomfortable and for once he felt anger rolling off of her in waves.

“I’m not, at least not as such. Vengeance Demons feel dark emotions, fear, anger, jealousy, the desire for revenge and we see the memories that accompany those feelings. The events that led to their formation in the hearts of the people who feel them… I never feel anything from you other than the odd twinge of envy and constant irritation… you’re an enigma, Tracy- Hell, I don’t even know your last name…”

“Everybody knows me as Tracy Rogers,” she muttered, her anger simmering down a little with his admission.

“I didn’t ask how everybody knows you. Is Tracy even your real name?”

She hesitated and then gave a shrug, “It is. It’s short for Catrasia. Catrasia Ascia.”

“Ascia? That’s Latin, isn’t it?”

“Uh-huh, for axe.”

“Hmmm, suits you better than Rogers.”

She gave a hollow chuckle as though he was making fun of her and turned to the woman on stage who was grinding her body down the pole in the centre and wearing only a piece of string around her ass. Strange that he’d been sitting in a room where a naked woman was dancing erotically and yet he hadn’t taken his eyes off of the young mage in front of him since he’d sat down. She was broken and damaged, maybe beyond repair, but she was captivating; a puzzle that needed solving. He sat back and slowly swigged on his beer as he continued to watch her. Two beers, supplied by a surprisingly accommodating bartender, and half an hour later and she reached across the table and wrapped her hand around his wrist. He was stunned. It was the first time she’d ever willingly touched him and it sent a shock through his body, electrifying his extremities and setting his nerves alight. What was she doing to him?

“Adalai, is that..?” her words allowed him to break out of the trance she’d somehow placed him under and he turned to see what she had been indicating with her eyes. He saw him at the bar, just as he remembered. Deran hadn’t changed in the past six years, though it looked like he had cut his hair. Other than that he looked like the same surly bastard he’d always been. Almost a carbon copy of Adalai, Deran stood tall and proud with copper skin and eyes covered by shades. He was maybe an inch or two shorter than Adalai but slightly stockier, and he had a three day scruff to suit his short but unruly hair. As though he heard his brother’s thoughts, Deran turned away from the bar and followed the bartender’s finger to Adalai and Tracy’s table where the two were staring at him. He frowned and for a moment, Adalai was certain he was about to bolt but then he watched as Deran’s eyes flickered to Tracy and sure enough, like a moth to the flame, he stalked over. Damn demon didn’t know any other way to walk except angry. That hadn’t changed either.

Chapter Six

Deran came to the table, the vein in his neck bulging in anger. He could barely contain his fury and he was questioning his decision to come over instead of walking out and leaving his no-good brother in the dust as he had years before but he was committed now. He told himself that he just wanted to give Adalai a piece of his mind and tell him to get the fuck out of his city but the truth was it was the woman sat opposite his brother with the haunted look in her eyes that had him walking over. Something about her piqued his curiosity enough to have his feet moving, one in front of the other, until he was standing directly in front of her feeling utterly penetrated by her steely, somewhat bored, gaze.

“Brother, it’s been a long time,” Adalai began but Deran cut him off.

“Really? It could have been longer if you ask me,” he muttered, looking on his brother but his eyes were drawn to the enigmatic brunette who was more than she seemed when she snorted in derision at his words. “What do you want, Adalai?” he murmured, not taking his eyes off of her.

“We are being targeted-,” Adalai began. So damn predictable he rolled his eyes.

“Of course you are, what have you done this time? Robbed another Guardian hold?”

“What? No, you don’t understand-”

“What don’t I understand, Adalai? I left your ass behind because you kept screwing up and I had to keep saving you and then you find me just to drag me back into your bullshit? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Fuck you, Deran. I never asked you to save me, dammit! If you weren’t so holier than thou, always making me feel like a fucking idiot because I didn’t want to be some kind of fucking hero then maybe I wouldn’t have made such an effort to screw you over!” Adalai grated out through clenched teeth as the brunette watched in obvious fascination, propping her chin up on her fist.

“Well, excuse me for wanting to be more than a fucking Demon!”

“Ok, that’s enough. Sit down and listen, or don’t I really don’t give a shit but stop drawing attention to the fact that we’re not human in a room filled with damn humans,” the woman said with a tone that made him reassess her. Haunted, she most definitely was but there was a strength in her that demanded respect and he wasn’t about to test it. Not yet, anyway. Begrudgingly, he sat down, resisting the urge to move around the booth so he was further away from Adalai like a damned teenager.

“Alright. I’m listening. What fuck up has he dragged you into?”

“Wow… You’re a bit of an asshole. I need beer.” With that, she stood up and walked to the bar, leaving him a little bit stunned and even more confused.

“Where did you find her?”

“She saved my life, more than once, in fact,” Adalai replied, his eyes riveted on the toned form of the woman currently threatening the bartender.

“Figures.” Deran remarked bitterly. Other than a sigh, his brother didn’t respond and the pair sat in a tense silence until the woman returned.

“Deran, this is Catrasia Ascia.”

“Call me Tracy,” she muttered, giving Adalai the stink eye for some reason. Not that she needed one. Adalai needed only to breathe to piss people off.

“Nice to meet you, Tracy. Now what the fuck is going on?”

“When Adalai said we are being targeted, he didn’t mean himself and I, he meant himself and you. We are in the middle of a war or at least the start of one and he has been searching for you to save your sorry, ungrateful ass. So before we get started on the story, I’d say you owe your brother an apology,” she said in a voice that said she didn’t care but her eyes said otherwise. In fact, they said, ‘disobey me and I will impale you.’

“Why am I being targeted? By who?”

Adalai started to answer but Tracy interrupted him when she slammed down her beer. She challenged him with her eyes as the foam escaped the neck of the bottle and poured down her hand.

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry, Adie,” he muttered, not meaning a word but she seemed to understand that was the best she would get.

“There is a group called the Resistance who have infiltrated the highest leagues across all supernatural communities who are attempting to overthrow the status quo and ensure that supes become the leaders they were born to be. So far their practices have involved murder, slavery and the creation of weapons to kill supes more efficiently than silver,” she said, once again daring him to question her.

“Why haven’t you gone to the Guardians?”

“Didn’t you hear what I said? Obviously Adalai got the brains and you got… well I’m not sure what you got. The Resistance have infiltrated the highest leagues including the Guardians.”

“Bullshit,” he growled, “this is your idea, isn’t it, Adalai? Huh? Another stab at me for wanting to be more than a damn demon?”

“For crying out loud, what is your problem?” Tracy demanded and for a moment he was sure he saw the colour of her eyes flicker. “Now you have two choices. Sit here, stop with the accusations and listen to what we have to say. Hell, you might even learn something, you arrogant shit. Or fuck off and die because you were too damn proud.”

Deran ground his teeth as he stared at Catrasia Ascia… mysterious and all-around oddity who should have had him chomping at the bit to get as far away from them both as he could and yet… he was strangely drawn to her. Like a moth to the goddamn flame.

“Fine… Guardians, the new evil. All of them?”

“No. Have you heard the name Kaleb Darke? Or Aden Denare?”

“Kaleb Darke? He’s the Commander of the Texas Unit of Guardians, isn’t he?”

“He was and Aden is his brother. Now he is one of the leaders of the rebellion we are mounting. Halycon, the city of the Fae, was liberated by our little group last week. They were practicing the enslavement of supernatural races, including their own, until Aden and his mate Teresa shut that shit down. On their journey they were attacked by an assassin who had a hit list. You, Adalai, Teresa, Aden, Kaleb, Alexa and several others are on that list. He came here to warn you, I came to investigate a murder. Now you’ve been warned so… can we go?” With that particular bomb dropped she stood and began to walk off. She had put a picture down on the table as she had been speaking and he reached for it as she walked away. It didn’t take him long to realise he was staring at his own image. A candid image, he hadn’t been aware was being taken. Half of what she’d said sounded like crap to him but she was right about one thing. He was being hunted.

“The Resistance?”

“Unfortunately. I was the guinea pig for a new weapon they’re testing last week, they missed and still almost killed me.” Adalai murmured, a faint smile on his face, his eyes following Catrasia’s ass as she made her way to the bar. Not that he could blame him… she had a nice ass. Still… more pressing matters.

“But the Guardians…”

“I know you’ve always held them in high esteem Brother but we really cannot trust anyone while our faces are being hunted. Will you come to Texas with me? You must meet Alexa, Kaleb’s mate. She will be able to answer your questions better than I can,” Adalai was pleading with him, as much as the proud Demon ever did, anyway.

“What is she? A psychic or something?”

“Oh, she’s definitely something… you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Look, I appreciate the thought and everyth-,” Deran’s words were cut off by a loud crash on the other side of the club and then the shrill screams of exotic dancers and their patrons as they fought to escape whatever calamity had come their way. Whatever it was, Deran had a feeling that Catrasia Ascia would be at the centre of it.

Chapter Seven

Tracy walked away from the table with a sigh. She hadn’t expected to find Deran so quickly, especially in the first strip club they ventured into. Apparently, they had succeeded in scaring the ever-loving shit out of the bartender. At least they had that going for them. The issue now was that she wasn’t sure how things were going to play out next. She needed to look into Colleen’s murder and now that Adalai had found his brother she had a feeling he was going to make excuses and hightail it back to Texas. Then again, maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. She could go back with him and say that she’d had no choice. If Adalai went she would have to go with him otherwise the jackass would die. She could avoid having to see the place where Colleen died, avoid the inevitable guilt that would come with it and blame it all on Adalai… it definitely had some possibilities. She came to the bar and signalled the fidgety looking bartender over.

“Another bottle… please,” she added with a smile, revelling in the fear she had inspired in him. She watched him lean down and pull a beer out of a small fridge with shaking hands. He struggled with the bottle opener but her eyes were on his face. Every few seconds his eyes darted to the doorway and back again and it gave her an uneasy feeling.

“Who are you looking for?” she asked, her hands itching to take hold of her swords and force the answer out of him.

“Wh-what? I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stuttered and her anxiety ratcheted up a notch. She might not be an Empath but she knew when someone was bullshitting.

“What have you done?” she hissed as beads of sweat poured down his head.

“I… You know… you should run while you still have the chance,” he growled back, his fear overtaken by his need to show how smug he was.

“Who’s coming?” she demanded, slamming her hand down on the counter, her eyes flickering in colour from dull brown to fiery red to icy blue in her anger. She had a suspicion she knew who was coming for them and it wasn’t going to be any kind of welcome wagon. “You fool. We’re not the bad guys here, asshole!” she screeched. She began to turn to warn Adalai and Deran in time to see the main door open and three men and two women with the Guardian insignia on the sleeves of their jackets glistening beneath the neon lights. Well shit. “You should run now,” she murmured to the bartender who frowned in response until the largest of the Guardians drew back his jacket and withdrew a large silver sword. Obviously the leader, he muttered to his four cohorts and Tracy watched as they began to fan out, their eyes searching. They’re not looking for me. They’re searching for Adalai and Deran, she realised when their eyes only flickered over the men in the room and then she considered running for the door and leaving their asses behind. Deciding to do just that she ducked her head and started for the door. It would mean she’d have to pass the Guardians but hell, this wasn’t her fight. They’ll be fine, she told herself adamantly, ignoring the guilt that threatened to eat away at her. She was maybe ten feet away from the door with only a sticky looking table in the way when a hand lay on her shoulder.

“You. You are with the two men at the booth, correct? How do you know them?” She looked up at the beefcake clutching her shoulder and considered her options. She could just say she was a dancer at the club, just a girl they’d picked up for naughty times or something but as her eyes met the cold steel stare of the shifter holding her in place an unmistakeable rage flew through her and she had no choice but to listen to it. She didn’t care who survived and who didn’t, she didn’t care what the consequences of her actions would be; she just felt the need to fight. She thrust herself to her knees and slid beneath the table gripping the handles of her short swords as the beefcake flipped the table over with minimal effort. The crash of the table was symphonised with the screams and yells of the strippers, their patrons and the stupid bartender as they raced to get outside, away from the upcoming carnage. Tracy jumped to her feet, her swords swinging. She thrust one into the gut of the beefcake and used the other to slice across his chest and then spun on her heel, the tutu of her dress fanning out, making her look like she was completing an elaborate and deadly dance. She crossed her swords and charged towards a female guardian whose body was morphing into some sort of large feline. Without so much as a pause Tracy dived forward and uncrossed her swords, digging them deep into the tigress’s side, slicing her open down the length of her body. The shifter keened with an inhuman wail as her transformation was stopped midway by Tracy’s silver swords. Tracy pulled back as the shifter, now in her human form, bleeding profusely from her side pulled a small dagger from her boot and lunged forward. Tracy parried the blow easily but her cockiness got the better of her as the other female Guardian appeared behind her and plunged a thin blade through her back. Tracy looked down to see the point protruding from just below her breasts, an inch higher and she would have been dead. Supes could survive a lot of punishment but a silver blade through the heart was a pretty sure fire way to kill one, either that or decapitation. Regardless of the fact that it wouldn’t kill her, it still hurt like hell. She felt the burn in her chest like a fiery hot stream covered in ice as blood bubbled up her throat and fell from her lips. Maybe it had been a little closer to her heart after all. The idea that she might just be meeting her maker sooner than she anticipated didn’t stop her, in fact it made her angrier. Spraying blood everywhere she screamed her ire in the face of the shifter with the dagger and thrust her swords into her chest and spun on her heel to face the other female Guardian who had gotten all stabby. The Guardians were much better trained than she was but what she lacked in discipline and skill she made up for with sheer, unquenchable rage. Her swords came up and she traded blow for blow with the Guardian whose own anger was evident on her militant face. Her blonde hair was up in a tight bun and her eyes were glowing a vibrant yellow. Shifter yellow. In fact, it seemed they were all shifters, at least the ones she was fighting. From the corner of her eye she saw Deran and Adalai facing off their own foes. They were both tall, one fair and the other dark and despite the contrast between them they worked in perfect unison, as though they had some sort of hive mind. One would aim low as the other aimed high and the speed they fought with wasn’t normal for a shifter. They both had cloudy grey eyes so that ruled out Demons. Hell, she didn’t know what they were, but they weren’t her primary concern at that moment. As if to emphasise that thought the shifter in front of her managed to parry one of her swords from her hands and then she was just fighting with one. It wasn’t long before the superior skill of her opponent out-manoeuvred her and her last remaining sword fell to the ground with a clatter. She stumbled backwards, the silver dagger still firmly implanted in her back and held her hands out in front.

“Sanguinem,” she muttered, knowing that if any of their enemies survived this fight then her secret was out but she was past caring. Her anger got the better of her good judgement and though she knew she was breaking decades old promises she couldn’t help herself. She pushed herself forward, her hands clutching at the shifters flesh and ignored the sword that pushed through her stomach. “Sanguinem!” she screamed once more into the shifters face and then she could do nothing but hold on as the shifter began screaming in agony. Her face contorted in pain as she tried to free herself from Tracy’s hands but Tracy refused to release her. One by one deep gashes and cuts appeared all over the shifters body and her blood began to pour to the ground. She fought and clawed but every swipe and pull grew weaker and weaker as her body drained of its blood until she was just a limp hollow mass. When the shifter stopped fighting, stopped moving, stopped breathing altogether, Tracy finally unclenched her hands and watched as the limp body fell to the ground in a heap, only bones and skin remaining. She looked up to see Adalai and Deran still fighting valiantly though Deran seemed to be doing a damn sight better. Because you’ve bound him… the thought whispered through her mind and she tried her hardest to ignore it, even as her knees gave way and she fell to the floor from her own blood loss. The club began to fade from view as darkness ate away at the edges of her vision but still she ignored the nagging voice that said if she didn’t unbind him they’d all end up dead. Her head connected with the cold, sticky floor and the putrid smell of stale alcohol and filth permeated her nose but she still didn’t relent. Then, Adalai’s assailant landed a lucky blow and thrust his sword into Adalai’s ribcage with direct precision and Tracy felt the overwhelming urge to get up and fight but she couldn’t. Her legs refused to follow orders and she was left with two choices. Lay down and watch him die before she passed out or unbind him, pass out and hope for the best. She told herself it was based purely on her interests in self-preservation, it wasn’t because she cared or anything… she just wanted to live. So it was with conviction and thoughts of mutually assured destruction that she whispered the words to set Adalai free from the confines of her magic, desperately ignoring the warmth that poured through her when she realised that he would live now, “Solvo”. It’s just the blood loss…

Chapter Eight

Adalai felt his release the moment it happened. It came as such a shock to his system that he staggered back leaving himself open to take another sword in the ribs but he bounced back quicker than his opponent could have anticipated. One moment he was sprawling backwards and the next he was filled with his power and up on his feet, ready for more. His power crawled through him, caressing his skin like an ardent lover and he welcomed it. Too long, he had felt broken, as though a part of him had been missing, blocked behind a wall. He hadn’t realised just how much he was missing the demonic power inside him until Tracy relinquished her hold on it and it made him so incredibly angry at her that she had kept it from him so long. The thought gave him pause for a moment. Why had she released him? What if she hadn’t done it by choice? What if she was..? Shit. He tried to look for her but the asshole in front of him wasn’t having any of it. It had been a long time since he’d fought with a vampire and he’d forgotten just how tricky the little bastards were. The light haired, grey eyed asshole in front of him bared a quartet of long, sharp fangs and came for him, sword swinging. Using his dagger and thinking quickly his blade clashed with the Vampire’s sword taking him by surprise. Using the Vampires shock to his advantage, Adalai leapt forward throwing his fist into his face, again and again until he was straddling him. The vamp started to take a swing as he bucked his hips in an attempt to throw Adalai off but Adalai didn’t give him the chance. He planted his hands on either side of the Vamps head and allowed his power to flow through his body until he found what he was looking for. The sins of his foe washed over him and then he was there, forcing the Vamp to live through every wrong action, every cruelty he had ever performed but from the perspective of his victims. An elderly woman leaving church, a young soldier finally home from war, a little girl, her pigtails soaked in her own blood as the Vamp drained her dry. The lies he had told to hide his true nature; the murderous glee inside him when he tortured his victims until they begged for death. The way he held his own life in higher esteem than those around him. Adalai saw it all and he saw the horror in the Vamps eyes as he replayed each action from another perspective. By the time he was finished the Vamp was a blubbering mess, lost in the confines of his own mind, his own guilt. It didn’t happen like that all the time; some people were incapable of feeling empathy but most weren’t. It was Adalai’s experience that even the most sadistic of minds had the capacity to care; whether it was for only one person, a sister, a daughter, a mother… a brother… even an animal or the environment or whatever… as long as they had the ability to give a shit about anything other than themselves he could use his power to incapacitate them, sometimes permanently. As if to emphasise the point, the Vamp screamed out in psychological torment, his grey eyes rimmed in red as bloody tears poured down his face.

“Please… please make it stop… please…” he begged, his hands coming together as though he was in prayer.

“You have committed these wrongs, now you must live with them,” Adalai muttered, stepping over him as he continued to cry and plead for his sanity. Adalai didn’t care, what very few realised was that his human heritage gave him both a gift and a curse. Whenever he used his power he too lived through the events that deserved vengeance. He felt every cut, every stab, every puncture and every loss of life and though he knew the recipients deserved it, it still shattered him every single time. He cast an eye over the club but other than Deran finally finishing off his own Vampire with a tomahawk to the throat there was no-one else there. Where the fuck was she?

“Tracy? Tracy!”

“Where is she?” Deran came to stand behind him, blood dripping from a slash across his chest and four small puncture marks in his neck.

“I don’t know… she was just here. What if they’ve taken her?”

Deran paused for a long moment, “Then we will find her.”

“Right… I- Wait…” Adalai moved quickly across the room, clambering across dead supes and pools of blood until he found her. “Tracy?”

“Erm… that’s not the girl you were sat with Adie,” Deran muttered as though he had taken the first train to crazy town.

“It is… at least I think it is. She uses a glamour,” he murmured, leaning down to the ivory skinned beauty beneath him.

“That’s a mage thing. That’s impossible.”

“I know… fuck. Deran she’s hurt pretty bad.”

“You’re sure it’s her?” Deran asked again, his head tilted to the side with a frown. Adalai released a growl and finally, mercifully, his brother relented. “Alright… can you carry her?”

“Yeah…” Adalai put his hands beneath her slight body, she was a bit skinnier in her natural form, bony even. Then again it really was no wonder, he’d seen her eating habits after all. Other than lacking in weight, he had to admit, she was a beauty. Ivory skin, dark hair, fine features with high cheek bones and a thin silver scar slicing through her eyebrow and down across her cheek that only seemed to add to her beauty. It reflected the warrior’s spirit he had sensed within her, as well as something a little beaten but not yet broken… she was a survivor and her true face showed it. He cradled her close to his body and with Deran walking backwards behind him they left the club. The street outside was deserted but the faint sound of sirens in the distance told him it wouldn’t remain that way for long. Deran removed his green hunters jacket and laid it over Tracy’s cold form and together they hurried across the three blocks until they arrived at Tracy’s building.

“I’ll take her,” Deran offered, standing outside Tracy’s door on the third floor.

“Don’t bother, there’s no key. Just break in,” he murmured. Deran stared at him incredulously for a moment before muttering something that sounded like ‘fuckin’ typical’ and kicking the door in.

“Do you think you could withhold judgment until she’s safe? Would that be okay?” Adalai asked sarcastically, pushing past him. He laid Tracy down on the couch but stopped when she whimpered. Lifting her up again he held her out as though she weighed nothing, which she really did, and surveyed the damage. He could have slapped himself for missing the freaking blade stuck in the middle of her back and poking out between her ribs.

“Help me,” he pleaded. He wasn’t too proud to ask for help, or even beg for it when the occasion called but still, asking Deran for anything more than a toothpick left a sour taste in his mouth. For once, Deran didn’t comment. He just accepted Tracy into his arms, seemingly relishing the feel of her, and allowed him to access the blade. Gripping the handle of the blade tight he pulled it out in one smooth movement. Tracy grimaced but other than that she didn’t make a sound.

“Lay her down. We need to check for other injuries… make sure she hasn’t been poisoned like I was.”

“You were poisoned? Wait, I don’t care. I won’t stand by and let you molest this girl whilst she’s in this condition,” Deran muttered, laying Tracy down gently on the musty double bed. That was it for Adalai.

“Fuck you, Deran! I will accept many things from you, more abuse and bitching than I really deserve. You can hit me, you can even fucking hate me but you will never, and I mean never, even suggest that I would hurt a woman in any way, let alone like that! Understand me?”

“Oh of course, I forgot… the hardened criminal has a heart of fucking gold.”

“I’m a smuggler, Deran. A thief! I’m not cruel… that trait seems to be all yours,” Adalai sneered, balling his hands into fists in anger.

“Will you two shut the fuck up, I’m trying to heal here,” Tracy mumbled, her throat thick and hoarse.

“Catrasia,” Adalai breathed, falling to his knees beside the bed, his argument with his brother forgotten. “I need to check for injuries, will you allow me?”

“Do I have much of a choice?” she grumbled as he started pulling on her dress.

“No,” he murmured as he attempted to figure out how the hell the damn dress fit together. If he could work that out then maybe he could get the damn thing off. His fingers landed just beneath Tracy’s ribcage and she yelped in pain forcing him to rethink his approach.

“Use this. Its steel,” Deran muttered behind him, pushing a small flip blade into his hand.

“You changed your tune. I’m not molesting her now?”

“Not while I’m here, asshole.”

Adalai was about to give another biting retort when Tracy gave another cry and his distraction ended. He took the blade and carefully cut down the front of her dress. The satin pieces of black fabric fell away quickly but the fluffy netted part took a little more manoeuvring but eventually she was laying practically naked in just a pair of black panties. He had been telling himself the entire time that he wouldn’t look but shit… he was a man after all. Her eyes opened briefly and he cleared his throat, feeling his brother do the same thing behind him and then he got to work. She had a few gashes and cuts but nothing major, though in the dim candlelight Deran had arranged he could see several scars littering her lovely lily-white flesh. It was like a road map of pain and suffering and it lit a fire under the Vengeance in him. He wanted to hunt down the bastards that had hurt her but more than that, much more, he wanted to show her the beauty in her scars. Wanted to make her understand that she was a survivor not a victim who needed to hide her scars as though they took something away from her, instead of adding to her character. He jostled her a little as he began to move from the bed and she cried out once again. Confused and concerned he pushed her onto her side to inspect one particularly deep cut, though he could tell it was healing, or at least trying to. Staring hard he noticed something reflective inside the wound, glimmering in the candlelight.

“Shit. I need some tweezers or something… Now if you don’t mind,” Adalai snarled when his brother looked at him blankly.

“Where the fuck am I going to get tweezers from Adie? Do I look like I carry a personal grooming kit around with me?”

“You look like you need to… check the- wait, her lock-picking kit. Check the dress.”

“She has a lock-picking kit? Great,” Deran grumbled, searching through the folds of the cut up dress with a rough hand. After a moment he found it. Carefully and with a steady hand Adalai gripped the small piece of metal out of Tracy’s wound and dropped it on the floor. As though her flesh had been waiting for that moment it healed almost immediately beneath his hands. Tracy released a sigh of relief and then passed out, her thin and bare body almost illuminescent in the dim light. Adalai couldn’t help it, he stared for a moment. It wasn’t very often, never in fact, that he saw Tracy this open, this vulnerable. It made him feel privileged and perverted all at once. Clearing his throat once more he pulled on the green coverlet on the bed and threw it over her, covering her loveliness. She curled into it, her dark eyelashes fanning over her high cheekbone, making her seem younger, and more innocent than she truly was.  He breathed her in for a moment longer before taking a seat on the beaten sofa with a sigh.

“Look, Adie, I… I didn’t… I know you would never hurt a woman, I…”

“Don’t worry about it.” Deran sighed and sat down beside him, pulling a small metal flask out of his pocket and a packets of cigarettes.

“Want one?”

“I quit.”

Deran nodded and put a cigarette between his lips, lit it and took a long drag. “Want one anyway?”

Adalai chuckled despite himself, “sure.” They sat in silence for over an hour smoking cigarettes and sipping bourbon before Deran finally spoke.

“So… what have you been doing the past six years?”

“Oh you know, robbing, stealing and all around no-gooding wherever I could…”

Chapter Nine

“Do you have to be such a smartass all the damn time? It was a genuine question,” Deran responded in a growl.

“Why? Huh? Why do you want to know, Deran? So you can judge me some more? Because that’s the only reason I can think of. You just packed up and left without so much as a damn goodbye so I know it’s not because you give a shit. Did you know that I searched for you? Over a year of my life wasted looking for your sorry ass just to find out that you had run away from me… don’t act like you care now. It’s just insulting.”

“Of course I care. You’re my little brother. I just… I couldn’t be around you anymore. It was too hard.”

“So you ran away?”

“I didn’t run, Adie… You kept getting in trouble and I thought the only way to help you was to let you sort out your own mess for once! But now-,” Deran stopped himself from going further but Adalai pushed him.

“Now what? You think all this that’s going on is my fault? Screw you, Deran! I came here to stop you getting killed and to warn you about what you were up against, now I’ve done that so you’re free to run away again if you want. It’s what you’re good at,” he ground out through gritted teeth, standing to his feet and stalking into the bathroom. Well, that went well. Deran gave a long-suffering sigh and picked at imaginary lint on his jeans.

“You’re wrong, you know.” Tracy’s soft voice made him jump and he turned round to look at her.

“What?”

“I said, you’re wrong. I mean, he’s a brigand and a thief but so am I. It doesn’t make him bad. He was working with the Guardians before all this shit happened you know? He made a difference. What do you do?”

“I’m a protector. Couldn’t join the Guardians because I’m a Demon so I became a Protector instead.”

“What does that mean exactly?” she asked, sitting up and stretching without so much as a frown. It made him curious.

“What are you?”

“Nosy aren’t we? I asked first.”

“I take clients and pledge to protect them from harm, with my life if necessary and in between clients I protect those at risk. Mainly children, prostitutes and strippers.”

“Huh… so that’s why we found you in a strip club.”

“Mmm, though technically I found you. Your turn.”

“My turn for what?”

“To answer my question. What are you?”

“Oh… did I ever say I was going to answer that?”

He raised an eyebrow at her but she ignored him, throwing her legs over the side of the bed and before he knew it she was standing up and the green coverlet was falling from her slim body leaving her exposed. He turned away quickly, his pulse racing and a slight sweat coming over him. He heard a drawer opening and then she was beside him on the sofa in the same place Adie had just been.

“You have a cigarette?”

“Maybe… if you tell me what you are?” He smiled, his heart finally returning to normal when he seen she had thankfully wrapped herself in a large woolly jumper and some yoga pants. She rolled her eyes but nodded and he passed her a cigarette from his packet.

“Can I have a lighter?”

“Oh… did I say I was going to light it? Did you want me to smoke it for you too?”

“Hmm touché, now give me a lighter,” he chuckled at her irritation but gave her his lighter nonetheless.

“I’m a mage.”

“That’s-…”

“Impossible? Yes, I know. My father was a mage, my mother a witch. When I was born I had the ability to use blood magic without the use of a talisman. I am by definition a Mage. The only female mage in existence, or so I believe.”

“Huh… well aren’t you a rarity…”

“Oh yeah, I’m a real prize… so, what are you?”

“Demon,” he muttered with a scowl, the word leaving a dirty taste in his mouth. He truly did hate what he was. He had spent a lot of time in the underworld cities, as Demons called them, and the lack of conscience and empathy disturbed him.

“Yes but it’s not all you are, is it?”

“No. I’m a hybrid. My Father was a Siren.”

“What is a Siren, exactly?”

“What, have you been living under a rock?”

“Something like that…”

He eyed her for a moment, his gaze lingering on the scar that ran through her eyebrow and over her cheek and cursed himself for being so thoughtless. He didn’t know what she had been through but she didn’t exactly give off the well-travelled vibe. “You’ve heard of Banshees?” he asked, eventually.

“Yes. I know one actually. You’ll meet her soon enough.”

“Hmm, well I don’t know about that but Siren’s use their voice similar to a Banshee, except it isn’t used to cause pain. Instead it’s used to control people.”

“Mind control?” she asked, seeming to get a little nervous.

“In a way. It’s more like hypnosis. I couldn’t make someone do what they wouldn’t under different circumstances.”

“What else?”

“That’s not enough? Okay… it can be used to comatose people as well. How long depends on the dosage, if you know what I mean.”

“Hmmm, that could come in handy. So… why do you hate what you are? What’s wrong with being a Demon?”

“A lot of things,” he growled, pulling out another cigarette.

“Such as?”

“Gods, you ask a lot of questions, woman.”

“How else would I decide whether or not to kill you in your sleep?”

“Ha… how about we just agree that you don’t.”

“No promises. So, demon… what’s wrong with that?”

“It isn’t a noble race. Many Demons are cruel and lack compassion and it bothers me,” he admitted, feeling strangely truthful.

“So are many humans. So are many Mages, Shifters, Fae… hell, especially the damn Fae. Why are demons so special?”

“Well, all those other races aren’t reviled for what they are, are they?”

“Oh I get it. It’s not that you hate being a demon, it’s that you hate what that means to others… you care too much about what people think. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“You’ve been talking to Adie, haven’t you? Damn bastard, never could keep his mouth shut.”

“About you? Nope. Seemed reluctant to talk about you at all. I wondered why, not that I really give a shit but it’s pretty clear now. You’re ashamed of him for who he is and because he doesn’t hate what he is and you shame him with your own self-hatred… Huh… thought I had family issues. Anyway, thanks for the cigarette, I’m going to sleep. Sweet dreams, Demon.” She stood from the sofa and sashayed over to the bed, leaving him staring at her slack jawed. What a woman. Not well-travelled and yet more than understanding of the nature of people… creeped him the fuck out and yet she was still oddly intriguing. No wonder Adie liked her, he always had a penchant for the weird ones, though he had to admit he wasn’t blind and she wasn’t exactly an ogre. There was something precious beneath all her attitude and bitchiness, a raw vulnerability that needed to be protected. It called out to the man he wanted to be, instead of the demon that he was. It did make him wonder though, he and his brother had never been able to agree on what made a woman attractive… it had been part of the reason why he’d left.

Chapter Ten

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty… I’ve got breakfast,” Adalai hovered above his brother and rattled the paper bag of pastries in his hand. Other than a muffled groan he didn’t get much of a response. “Hey, asshole… food,” he yelled, kicking Deran in the shin. To say he got a response then would have been an understatement.

“Dick! Whattya do dat for, I’m awake,” Deran cursed, his voice thick with sleep. Awake, my ass!  

“Whatever, you never did like mornings… Where’s Tracy?”

“Huh? Whattya mean? She’s right there,” he mumbled, turning on his side and huddling into the back of the sofa.

“Deran, wake the fuck up. She isn’t here,” Adalai said in a panic after searching through the apartment.

“Wha? Fucks sake. Where would she have gone?”

“How the hell should I know?”

“You’ve known her longer,” Deran demanded, fully awake and alert now.

“Doesn’t mean I know her, dammit! Shit, I only saw her real face for the first time last night…”

“Well, you shouldn’t have left her alone then.”

“I didn’t! You were here, asshole.” Adalai paced towards his brother, his hands balling into fists as his anger mounted. Every little thing Deran had said, every slight given about his character and every judgement ran through his mind as he advanced. Deran, the smug son of a bitch, didn’t even move. He just stood there, daring him to attack. Well… he’d never been one to turn down a dare. He had principles. He lunged forward and took his brother by surprise with a left hook but his victory didn’t last long. Deran recovered quickly and threw himself into Adalai’s waist sending them both sprawling over the back of the sofa. They grappled with each other eventually culminating with Deran holding Adalai in a headlock under his arm and Adalai repeatedly punching Deran in the stomach.

“Seriously, guys? Stop!” Tracy appeared above them with her hands one her hips and a look of concern on her face. “You’ll get blood all over the carpet.” Adalai frowned and peered up at Deran who had also stopped in his assault. When their eyes met the anger between seemed to fizzle away, at least for that moment, and was replaced with snorts of laughter. Of course Tracy wouldn’t give a shit if they killed each other, as long as they didn’t get blood on the threadbare, moth-eaten carpet. Deran released Adalai’s head and the pair broke apart with an awkwardness that reminded Adalai of his childhood.

“Where the hell were you?” he asked, rounding on the irritated looking female.

“I beg your pardon?” she murmured, her eyes dangerously bright as she looked up at him. He knew he was treading on thin ice with this line of questioning but he couldn’t help himself.

“I said, where the fuck were you? Dammit, Tracy, I was worried.”

“As was I. You shouldn’t have left without telling us where you were going, Catrasia. Anything could have happened to you.” Adalai turned to Deran in surprise. It wasn’t so much what he had said but more the fact that he was agreeing with him and it wasn’t under threat of death. Deran was willingly backing him up and it was shocking enough that he momentarily forgot that he was supposed to be angry with Tracy. She soon brought it all back with a bang.

“I don’t remember Mating to either of you… and I know we are in no way related nor are you my employers… therefore I don’t have to tell you a fucking thing. Now are you ready to leave? I think we can make it back to Texas without having to stop if we share the drive between us,” she turned away leaving both Adalai and Deran staring at her in bemusement as she began filling a bag with knick-knacks from the bedside cabinet.

“She’s a little scary, Adie.”

“I know… she’s pretty awesome, isn’t she?”

“She is that…” Adalai grinned but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was meant to be doing something else. That there was a reason they couldn’t leave yet. Whatever it was, it wasn’t coming to him. No doubt they’d be in Texas before he remembered but what could he do about it. He shrugged his shoulders and began gathering his own things as Deran hovered near the door looking useless and uncomfortable. Adalai had to admit that he got a little kick out of that. He watched over his shoulder for a moment, a small, somewhat smug, smile on his face before he turned back to his bag. Then he nearly shit his pants.

“Whoa! What the-…”

“Good to see you again, Adalai,” Arelia murmured. Her soft voice sending shivers down his spine. Hell, he was a Demon but there was something about the Seer that made his balls shrink in anxiety. He knew she was on their side, after all her warnings had saved his ass, Kaleb and Alexa too, even Elena, Kaleb’s sister, and the slaves of Halycon owed her their lives but still… she was a little creepy.

“You too, Seer. To what do we owe the pleasure?” he asked, glancing behind him to see Deran looking weary and Tracy looking irritated.

“You should ask the Mage,” she murmured, a half smile on her pale lips as her white hair flowed around her head as though she had her own personal breeze.

“I was gonna stop there on the way to Texas…” Tracy muttered, her forehead wrinkled in anger.

“You cannot lie to me, child. You were planning on going straight back to Alexa and Kaleb, delivering Adalai and his brother and then leaving. You would have made some excuse, something about there being too much heat here in New York and then you would have run. Shall I tell you how your life will be if you follow this path?” Arelia asked in that weird psychic way of hers.

“Do you have to? Kind of takes the fun out of it…” Tracy mumbled. She was trying to act nonchalant but Adalai could see the slight tremor of her hands and the way she refused to make eye contact with anyone. Arelia was right. She had been planning on running. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that but he knew he didn’t like it.

“Why don’t I show you?” Arelia stepped forward. Well, actually she kind of floated. Freaky… “Take my hand, Catrasia Ascia. I will show you your future.”  Tracy looked like a rabbit in headlights, scared but also angry. She started to shake her head and attempted to take a step back from the Seer only to bump into the dresser. The Seer came closer, her hand outstretched and Tracy shook her head again, her eyes wide and her lips pursed into a thin, almost white line. Adalai had to wonder for a moment if she was armed because if so the Seer didn’t stand a chance. He wasn’t sure if he should stop the inevitable blowout though. On the one hand, Alexa would skin him alive if anything happened to Tracy and on the other she would probably set his ass on fire if anything happened to Arelia. Although, here and now he had Tracy to worry about. That skinny mage was scary in her own right and he had to travel back to Texas with her… He made his mind up and began to take a step forward but he was too late. Tracy’s hand reached out against her will as she strained and swore in colourful fashion but she seemed rooted to the spot and unable to control her own body parts. Adalai moved to help her, his heart thumping in his chest. Apparently, Deran had the same idea because in seconds they were side by side and moving forward to tear the two polar opposite women apart before swordplay ensued. They were maybe three feet away from them when Arelia reached out and took Tracy’s hand with reflexes like a freaking cobra. Some sort of force field generated from the touch in a spherical blast of energy that sent Adalai and Deran careening backwards. Adalai was thrown over the sofa whilst Deran ended up smooshed against the door, his eyes flashing in irritation. Standing up with a groan Adalai saw that both the Seer and Tracy were in a trance, a literal trance that is. Both of them had their heads thrown back, their eyes wide open with an eerie silver light shining from them and neither of them moved a muscle. Adalai wasn’t sure how long they stood like that, or how long he and his brother watched them as they stood there; Arelia with her pale hair, pale skin and personal breeze billowing her long white dress around her body and Tracy in stark contrast. Her black clothing, midnight coloured hair, scarred beauty and general ‘fuck off’ attitude that shone through even when she wasn’t technically there. Eventually, he took a seat on the sofa with Deran and they waited for the trance to come to an end. And waited. And waited some more.

“You can’t put that on me!” Tracy’s angry shout practically had him shitting his pants and he turned around to find her, silent tears rolling down her cheeks, as she pushed the Seer away.

“I did not put anything on you, Catrasia. I have only shown you one possible future. You have the power to change it, but it is up to you whether you have the responsibility.” Arelia’s soft voice was extremely calm in the face of Tracy’s unbridled fury.

“But that isn’t fair! Haven’t I seen enough? Why can’t I just rest?”

“You have that choice, child. I am not taking anything away from you but I would ask you to remember that the things in life that are worth having, the things that make life worth living, require fighting for,” Arelia murmured softly, reached out and ran her hand over Tracy’s scarred cheek before disappearing faster than the eye could track. Adalai wasn’t sure was breed of supernatural the Seer was but he was fairly certain he had never seen anything like her and he certainly couldn’t get used to her popping in and out of existence without so much as a puff of smoke. Tracy stared at the place the Seer had been standing for a long moment, her eyes bright with unshed tears and looking more vulnerable in that moment than he had ever seen her. Still, despite her appearance, he wasn’t a fool. He knew her well enough to know that any sign of pity or compassion would send her over the edge. Deran, on the other hand, wasn’t as well versed in the twists and turns that were Catrasia Ascia, female mage and all around nutcase.

“Catrasia?” he murmured, stepping forward and foolishly touching her arm.

“Don’t fucking touch me! You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me, dammit! Just… leave me alone, okay!” With that she stormed out of the apartment, her tears falling in fat drops and the door slamming behind her leaving Deran looking a bit shell-shocked at the way she had screamed in his face and batted away his hand. Even though Adalai had expected such a reaction he had to admit he hadn’t thought she would seem so… hurt. Angry? Yes. Violent? Definitely. But wounded? Not so much.

“What just happened?” Deran muttered, pulling his packet of cigarettes from his inside pocket; his default reaction to stress. Adalai preferred a beer when shit got too real but each to their own.

“Wait here,” Adalai murmured, following after Tracy as his brother threw his hands up and plopped down on the sofa.

“Yeah sure… I’ll wait here, you guys just go and I’ll sit here wondering what the fuck just happened. Fucking psychics popping up and throwing me across the damn room… because that’s normal…” Adalai could hear his brother muttering to himself sulkily as left the apartment with a roll of his eyes. Deran had always been a drama queen. Adalai searched the rest of the third floor, listening through locked doors but he couldn’t find Tracy anywhere. He reached the stairwell and began to descend when he heard a faint clanking from above. Taking the stairs three at a time he reached the fourth floor coming closer to the strange metal on metal scratching sound. After the Seer had appeared out of nowhere he was a little on edge so he moved gingerly down the communal hallway until he came to an open door. Peering inside he saw something that challenged everything he thought he knew about the little mage. Life is truly stranger than fiction.

“What are you doing?” he asked quietly, his jaw dropping as he entered a small apartment that mirrored the one Tracy had been staying in, except a huge kitchen complete with stainless steel worktops, a large double doored fridge-freezer and an oven big enough for him to crawl into was where the bedroom/living area was downstairs.

“Get out, Adalai. I… I want to be alone.”

“And I want to lay in a heart shaped bathtub covered in chocolate whilst beautiful women lick it off of my body but we don’t always get what we want, do we Vamps?”

“Gods… you’re disgusting.” She muttered, casting her eyes over him with distaste before focusing on what she was doing once more.

“So you can cook, huh?”

“I like to cook… I don’t know if I can…”

“Strange. I never figured you for the type.”

“And what type is that?” she asked, picking up a metal whisk and stirring a gloopy mixture in a large bowl. Hell, all she needed was a little apron and she’d be a picture for Good Housekeeping. Well, expect for the look on her face that said, ‘make fun of me at your own peril, jackass.’

“The ‘baking cookies’ type.”

“These aren’t cookies… its crème brulee.” She began pouring her mixture into little individual dishes which she then placed inside the oven gingerly. He watched in fascination as she set a timer and started cleaning up the work surfaces.

“Can I help?” he asked, feeling useless. He’d never really been the domesticated kind. The closest he came to kitchen work was disposing of his takeaway wrappers and putting leftovers in the fridge.

“You can wash up,” she said after a moment of silence and he came round to her side of the counter. He filled the sink and added some washing up liquid and got to work. Just over a half hour later and the kitchen was gleaming, the sink was clear and the dishes were put neatly away. Tracy leaned down and checked the oven, pushing the roasting tray a little before pulling it out with a pair of oven gloves.

“What are you doing?” he asked, genuinely intrigued.

“When it’s ready, the cream will wobble in the middle a little, like jello.”

“Oh… so we can eat it now?”

“Not yet.” She placed the tray down on the counter and removed her oven gloves. Then she closed her eyes and held her hands over the tray, “Fuar,” she murmured and he watched as steam erupted from the ramekins until it eventually dissipated and he could just feel the edge of the blast of cool air coming from her fingers. She closed her hands and then pulled out a bowl of sugar from beneath the counter and began sprinkling a spoonful onto each ramekin.

“Mmm, can we eat them now?”

“No…” she murmured with a chuckle. “You’re like a damn child.” He smiled down at her, happy to see that she was no longer upset. Apparently, his antics had helped take her mind off of whatever it was the Seer had said and done. The thing was, he wasn’t faking. He really did want to taste the Crème bully… whatever it was, it smelled like heaven. Tracy reached beneath the counter and pulled out a blow-torch and he was speechless. What the hell did she need that for?

“It’s to caramelise the sugar. Makes it hard and crispy.”

“Sure it does… Maybe I can have one without the caramel thing,” he murmured, certain she was about to ruin the whole desert… crazy little pyromaniac.

“No. Trust me, okay?” she said with a chuckle.

“Fine but if you ruin my desert then you’re buying me one on the way to Texas.” He muttered back, frowning when she paused, her face falling at his words.

“We’re not going back to Texas. Not yet anyway.”

“Why? Where are we going?”

She heaved a heavy sigh and switched on the blow torch, squinting against the flame, “we have a crime scene to investigate.”

He frowned in confusion until he remembered the other reason they came to New York. Find his brother and investigate the murder of Colleen Avery, the sister of Alexa’s closest friend. “Shit. I forgot about that.”

“Yeah… I wish I had,” she muttered, blasting the tops of the ramekins with the blow torch with a childish exuberance that didn’t match the brevity in her voice. When she was finished she replaced the blowtorch under the counter and handed him a spoon.

“Er… can I come in?” Deran poked his head round the door as though the smell of food had enticed down the corridor and up a flight of stairs. Adalai couldn’t blame him, the scent of the small desserts was divine.

“As long as you’re not going to start another fight and screw up my kitchen,” Tracy murmured with a sardonic grin.

“No promises…” he muttered, stepping into the room. Well, he kind of stalked actually. In fact there wasn’t a time that Adalai could remember when his older brother had a spring in his step. He’d always been a grumpy bastard. “Smells good. Crème Brulee, huh? I haven’t had that in years.”

“How the hell do you know what it is?” Adalai asked, his spoon poised halfway to his mouth.

“The things you don’t know about me, little brother, could fill a library.”

“Well that’s to be expected really, I mean you did disappear for six years and prior to that the only conversations we had involved you giving me orders, yelling at me or judging me, so yeah… I guess I don’t really know you at all.”

“Yeah well… I remember it different. I remember picking up the pieces after you fucked up again and again, bailing you out time after time and making excuses for you constantly. I think I know you too well, Adie.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about me,” Adalai growled, his ire rising once again, his spoon still suspended in mid-air.

“Oh for crying out loud. Why don’t you both just whip them out and measure. I think I have a ruler around here somewhere,” Tracy snarled, slamming her hands down on the counter making the little ceramic bowls clink against each other. “Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you two? You have no idea how lucky you are to have someone who gives a shit about you, no matter what. I had three brothers, and they were each more evil than the next and here’s the two of you bitching because… hell, I don’t know why. I doubt either of you do either. Now, eat up and come down and get me when you’re ready. We have somewhere to be.” With one last angry glance at them both, Tracy stormed out, slamming the door behind her. An uncomfortable, somewhat chastised silence followed for a few minutes until Adalai finally spoke.

“Look… we don’t like each other and it’s obvious that we are both disappointments to each other, so how about we agree to dislike one another, get through the next few days without killing each other, and when we get back to Texas you can talk to Alexa, the Guardians, whoever… get the information you need and be on your merry way. Deal.”

“I’m a disappointment to you?” Deran asked incredulously, a look of betrayal and pain on his face. A face that looked so much like Adalai’s reflection it was almost like looking in a mirror. A mirror that made you cleaner, well-kempt and much more of an asshole, but a mirror nonetheless.

“Yes brother… you are a huge disappointment to me. Hurts doesn’t it? Feels like a knife in the fucking gut and a kick in the balls at the same time? Whatever, doesn’t matter… do we have a deal or not?”

“Sure… we have a deal. No more fighting…”

“Good.” Adalai finally ate his spoonful and suppressed a groan of sheer ecstasy. Say what you like about the strange, crazy little mage… that woman had a gift in the kitchen. He quickly finished off his bowl and grabbed another, pointedly ignoring his brother. Deran gave a sigh, anguish and pain rolling from him in waves, and grabbed a bowl and spoon of his own. He didn’t supress his groan at all, didn’t even try. In fact it came so suddenly and loudly that Adalai was snorting into his own dessert in laughter. It was a light moment in the otherwise tumultuous relationship he shared with his brother and it gave him pause, if only for a moment. Luckily the moment passed and after polishing off a third bowl of the cream bully stuff he turned on his heel without a word and followed after the mage that could have his soul if only she would cook for him… every day… for the rest of his life. The way to a man’s loyalty was through his stomach after all, or something like that.

Chapter Eleven

Tracy paced back and forth in the living room of her small battered apartment, her blood boiling. Those two assholes with their similar, yet striking looks and damn hatred for each other… it was irritating. The worst part about it was it made her angry. It made her feel… something. It had been a long time since she had allowed herself to feel anything deeper than surface level and then up come these two demons with their petty squabbles and suddenly she was angry enough to bang their heads together? She didn’t like it. In fact, the fact that she was feeling angry only made her angrier. Dammit. These demons had her running round in circles in her mind… and apparently in her living room as well. She was damn near close to pacing a hole in the floor. Damn demons.

“Is it safe to enter?” Adalai asked, her eyes wide and an almost pained look on his face.

“No.” she snapped, her head whipping towards him as she continued to pace. “Fucks sake, I’m serious, you know. What the hell is wrong with the two of you? You both have a brother who actually gives a shit about you and instead of revelling in it, instead of dropping to your knees and thanking the gods that someone on this godforsaken planet cares enough to bust your balls like that… Cares enough to be disappointed or hurt or heartbroken… do you have any idea what I would give to have someone care about me like that? ANY IDEA?” She screamed the last and turned towards the doorway where Adalai was standing in time to see Deran move behind him. With reflexes quicker than an alley cat and a sudden gasp Deran held his arms out just fast enough to stop his brother from hitting the floor with a thud as his eyes rolled up into the back of his head.

“Adie!”

“What is it? What’s wrong with him?” Tracy asked, stomping towards them, her bad mood still permeating the air.

“It’s you… your emotions. Dammit, I don’t have his abilities and I can feel them from here. You need to get out. I mean it! Go!” he was practically roaring. If she hadn’t been so preoccupied by her sudden burst of feelings and her anger at them both for causing them she might have shouted back. As it was, his sudden departure from his stoic and grumpy demeanour shocked her enough to send her stumbling backwards and then crazily enough, she felt a wetness against her cheeks. Horrified at what that might mean she turned on her heel and raced into the bathroom so fast she was sure she left a cloud of dust in her wake. She slammed the door and threw her body weight against it, sinking downwards until she landed in a heap in front of it. What the hell is happening to me? Her breathes came in short pants and the wetness she had felt on her cheeks grew until she was crying fat, silent tears. This didn’t happen to her. There had been one time in nearly sixteen years that she had cried and that had been out of frustration more than any kind of deep emotion. Not like now. Anger, guilt, pain… it flowed through her like someone had uncorked a bottle and she just couldn’t get the stopper back in. Something was seriously wrong. Those damn demons had broken her somehow and she didn’t know how to fix it. I don’t want to be broken, she thought hysterically as more tears fell down her face, not after everything. Not now… it just isn’t fair.

“Catrasia?” Deran’s voice came through the door and she froze in place. She didn’t want to be seen like this. “Tracy… please. Please come out. I’m sorry I shouted at you… I… I haven’t seen him faint like that in years and it took me by surprise. Please…”

“I… I’m okay. I get it. I just need a minute.”

“You’ve got thirty seconds, vamps, and then I’m coming in there after you.”

“A- Adalai?”

“Yep… come on Vampy… we’ve got places to be.” Adalai’s groggy voice came through the door and for just a moment her heart stopped. He was alright. She hadn’t killed him.

“I’ll be out in a minute, I… I’m just cleaning up.” She muttered numbly, cursing her weakness and once again asked the universe what the hell those demons were doing to her. A few splashes of water and a stern talking to in the mirror and she had almost convinced herself it was a mere lapse of judgement… or sanity or something. She opened the door and jumped a foot in the air when she realised both Deran and Adalai were loitering just outside. Deran kicked Adalai’s foot when she stopped in front of them and then both pairs of crimson eyes were settled on her.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m really sorry, Catrasia.”

They both started at the same time with such intensity that it caused her to stagger back.

“Whoa… easy there boys, I’m fine. I’m not that fragile,” she murmured awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot beneath their scrutiny. “So let’s hit the road shall we?”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Deran asked, his guilt blatant on his face.

“Leave her alone, Deran. She’s obviously fine. Let’s get going.” Adalai muttered, turning on his heel and thankfully saving her from further mortification. At that moment, as Deran huffed and followed after him she could have kissed him. She could have wrapped her hands around his face and planted one on him without a care and she would have enjoyed it too. That realisation was enough to shock her out of her melancholic mood. She hadn’t felt the urge to kiss somebody, anybody, since Christopher. A cold wash of panic fell over her and she staggered sideways, throwing her hands up to the wall to stop herself from falling over. She didn’t think of Christopher. She didn’t allow herself to think of Christopher. It was too difficult, too painful… there was too much guilt.

“What is it?” Adalai appeared in front of her in a flash and once again she was struck off balance.

“What?” She mumbled, shutting her eyes against the dizziness that overcame her.

“Listen, Vamps. We’ve spent almost ten days together and in that time I haven’t felt more than a whisper of emotion from you and yet today it’s like you’ve screamed at me… twice. Now you don’t have to talk to me about it but you should know that you can’t hide it from me either. So… what are we going to do about it?”

“What do you mean, what are we going to do about it? We are going to do nothing about it, and I don’t know what you think you’re feeling but it’s not from me! Go ask your brother about it,” she hissed, pushing past him, her anguish quickly turning into anger.

“Alright, vamps, if that’s the way you want to play it. Just remember, that amount of emotion needs an outlet and one way or another it will get one. You can control it or it will be done at your expense… your choice, Vampy.”

“Whatever, asshole,” she muttered, stalking through the living room, past an anxious looking Deran and out of the apartment door. A few minutes later she was standing on the sidewalk outside the apartment building, breathing in the cool, autumn New York breeze. That was something she enjoyed most about New York. It actually had seasons. In Armstrong County there were only two types of weather, hot and ‘oh my gods, hell has arisen’. In New York, you could actually tell what time of year it was based on where the sun was in the sky. She knew most people would find it odd but personally she preferred the cooler climates. The brilliant colours of all the leaves in autumn, the cool scent of aging trees and onset of winter. She had yet to see a full winters day in New York, or summer, or spring for that matter but the thought of actual snow, of stepping in it and hearing the crunch beneath her feet, of feeling snowflakes on her cheeks and seeing robins in whitewashed trees… it made her feel damn poetical. Somehow it calmed her too. In fact, by the time Deran and Adalai joined her on the sidewalk she was downright serene.

“Come on boys, we need to make a stop on the way,” she murmured, climbing in the driver’s seat of the SUV with relish.

“Why do I feel like she’s a little too happy to be behind the wheel?” Deran asked, climbing in the backseat with a dubious frown.

“Not sure… maybe it’s because she hasn’t got a licence.” Adalai grumbled sulkily as he got in the passenger seat with a huff.

“Excuse me? No licence? Are you guys fucking serious? Why is she driving? Why are you driving?” Deran said hysterically from the backseat as he leant over to open his door but Tracy was too quick for him. She slammed in the key and pressed her foot down on the accelerator with a chuckle as he gave a girlish shriek when the car tilted with the speed.

“By the Gods, Catrasia! Slow down for crying out loud. Do you have a fucking death wish?” he shouted and her eyes whipped up to meet his in the mirror. He has no idea. She smirked when he cursed again and pushed her foot down harder. The car screeched as she turned a corner and she was certain the left hand side wheels left the ground for a moment there. A few minutes later and the novelty of scaring the shit out of the badass demon in the backseat wore off. Especially as Adalai didn’t make a damn sound about it. Apparently he was still pissed at her. A fact that she found increasingly annoying. Then it was the fact that she found it annoying that was annoying her. Damn demons. Like she wasn’t messed up enough already. An hour and forty-five minutes later she was pulling up to a large estate in Woodbury. She hadn’t thought to come here when she was in New York last time… okay, that was a lie. She’d thought about it alright but she hadn’t had the balls. Besides, it was the first place her Father and brothers would have looked for her and she had been in hiding. Now there wasn’t anyone to hide from… at least no-one who was looking for her.

“What is this place?” Adalai murmured as Deran let out a low whistle from behind her. She had been fielding questions from them both for the past hour but apparently they weren’t going to let her field anymore.

“I… I think my Grandmother lives here.”

“Your grandmother? I thought you had no family left?” Adalai asked gently. Apparently he was no longer pissed at her. She was surprised at the weight that seemed to lift from her at the realisation.

“I don’t. She isn’t my family. If she’s still alive we are related only by blood and it takes more than that to be a family,” she sneered with no small amount of hatred in her tone. Bracing herself she opened her window and leaned out to push the button on the intercom. The estate was surrounded by a seven foot wall with large cast iron gates in front of her. She didn’t tell the two demons she was with that she sensed more than iron in their surroundings. In fact she was fairly certain there was a large amount of silver fortifying those walls but if she told them that then they would be reluctant to go in with her and she really didn’t want to face these people alone. The truth was she had hoped she’d never have to come here and yet in some ways she’d always dreamed of it. Like it would be a homecoming of a sort, but she knew that could never happen. She was filled with too much anger, too much pain and too much loss to ever accept these people and they would definitely never accept her. She knew it as well as she knew she needed air to breathe. Still, the small child that she had once been had wished for it again and again until that wish had been beaten out of her. Though a wish made by a child is always there, buried beneath a mountain of apathy and disillusionment, but there nonetheless.

“Can I help you?” A kindly voice that set Tracy’s teeth on edge came through the intercom.

“Yeah… you can open the damn door.”

“I beg your pardon? Who are you? What do you want?”

“My name is Catrasia Ascia and I am here to meet my Grandmother. Now open the fucking door,” she snarled, her irritation boiling over. She gripped the steering wheel tighter and felt Adalai glance back at his brother in bewilderment but she couldn’t look at them. At either of them. Gods, what was she doing? This was a mistake. No sooner had the thought entered her mind that a metallic churning sound broke through the silence and the gates began to open. Well, shit. Mistake or not, she was committed now. She came here to do something and she was damn well going to do it. Anything, as long as that damn seer couldn’t send her on anymore guilt trips. She released a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding and slowly edged the car through the open gates. They opened out onto a long, ivory paved pathway that led to the largest house she had ever seen. Calling it a house didn’t do it justice by any means. It was a formidable structure made up mostly of red brick and white windows but the frightening thing about it was the level of power she felt rolling from it in waves. She pulled the car to a stop outside a set of large ivory double doors and clicked off the ignition, pocketing the key, but other than that she didn’t move. She just stared out of the windshield, her fingers wrapped tightly around the steering wheel. Deran leaned forward but Adalai shot his arm out warning him to keep his mouth shut. It was… touching. From both of them really. Deran because he cared enough to ask and cared enough not to at the risk of the upsetting her and Adalai for being so damn perceptive. Of course, that they were both seemingly in tune with her needs bothered her immensely. Right now though, she had bigger problems and one of them was standing just outside the double doors with her arms crossed and an entourage of witches behind her. Tracy took another deep breath and opened her car door, climbing out fluidly and shutting it with a thud behind her. before she really had the time to panic she felt a reassuring presence on either side of her as Deran and Adalai offered their silent support even though they didn’t know why they were there or what exactly they were in for. She could have kissed them both then. Damn demons. She glanced up at them for a split second, their striking looks so similar and yet fully their own. They each had a pair of dark sunglasses on to hide the pigment of their eyes, which she thought was a shame, really. Their crimson irises were quite beautiful to look at once you got past the spooky factor. Still, as they both stood there on either side of her, their sunglasses and steadfast demeanour she had to fight back a bubble of hysterical laughter. They looked like her damn bodyguards.

“You look just like my Sara,” the older woman called gently from the top of the short flight of stairs that led to the doors.

“Do I? I’m surprised you remember what she looked like,” Tracy muttered as she finally pushed away from the car and started up the steps, once again reassured as her two demons kept stride with her. Wait. My demons? They’re not my demons. Her inner tirade was cut off when she reached the top and came face to face with a woman who looked so familiar and yet was a complete stranger. She had light blue eyes, just like her Mothers, long silver hair that might have once been black, delicate features and arched brows. If she’d had a scar over her eye Tracy would have thought she was looking at her future reflection.

“I understand your anger… I… I have no excuses to give you but I do have a story to tell you if you are willing to hear it.”

“I don’t care about your stories. I am not here to claim you as family or reminisce about the life my Mother led before she was tortured by my Father. I am here for information and to give you some in return. That is it. I don’t want to foster a relationship with you. I don’t need to.” Tracy said firmly, clasping her hands together so no-one could catch the tremor in them.

The old woman sighed heavily and gave a short nod. She turned and murmured something to two of the women standing behind her. One was tall, fair haired and somewhat bookish. In fact a pair of glasses and a librarian’s bun wouldn’t have been out of place on her. The other was shorter, with short brown hair spiked up in a punkish style with heavy eyeliner and a pair of combat boots on. Neither seemed very threatening. There was a third however, one who was causing Tracy’s figurative hackles to rise. She had long blonde hair, tanned skin and doe eyes. She wore a long, slinky, red sundress and a full, red, smile and she was directing it straight at Adalai. What the hell was she thinking? Didn’t she know that those demons were hers? Oh… shit.

“You will come in?” Tracy’s Grandmother asked tentatively but Tracy wasn’t fooled. She didn’t trust her as far as she could throw her and it wasn’t just because she hadn’t come to save her.

“We will,” she relented. There was no point in discussing all of this outside. She followed her grandmother through a large, wide hall decorated in light airy colours with a pleasant homely smell permeating the air. In front of her was a large spiral staircase leading to at least three floors above them. A door to the left was slightly ajar and through the gap Tracy could see gleaming counters and an eight door oven that made her salivate. She was momentarily distracted by the thought of all the different concoctions and desserts she could make in that thing that she jumped when Deran gently placed his hand on her shoulder, guiding through a doorway to the right. She glanced at his hand but he didn’t move it and though she knew she should she couldn’t bring herself to move out from under it. Whatever… I’ll analyse that later. She followed Deran into a large sitting room with Adalai close on her heels. She realised that not long ago she would have felt suffocated by their proximity, hell that had been the main reason she agreed to leave the cabin, why she had been eager to get out on the road… just so she could have some space. Yet here, in this unfamiliar place that made her feel more vulnerable than she was comfortable with, their close presence cocooning her made her feel… safe. It was a new feeling, an uncomfortable but not completely unpleasant feeling. The scary part was it was an uncomfortable feeling she could get used to. The sitting room was fancy to say the least with expensive looking furniture and a large bay window. The walls were painted in a delicate yellow with large, white, flowery net curtains in the window and embroidered sofas to match. All in all the room was grand yet homely but there was something about the charm and delicacy that didn’t sit right with her. Hell, this place was a stark contrast to the house she had been dragged up in; there the darkness and death was so palpable you could taste it but you knew what you were in for in the Rogers estate back in Armstrong. Here, with the sun shining brightly over a room that oozed pleasantries she couldn’t help but wonder what darkness was hiding beneath it. Tracy sat down on one sofa with Adalai on her left and Deran on her right whilst her grandmother and the tanned, leggy blonde who couldn’t keep her damn eyes to herself sat opposite.

“My name is Anastacia Ascia and as I am sure you are aware, Catrasia is my Granddaughter. This is my other Granddaughter Chloe,” Tracy watched as ‘Chloe’, the blonde, fluttered her eyelashes as she looked from Adalai to Deran like they were fawning over her.

“Nobody gives a shit.” Tracy snarled, vindicated when Adalai snorted beside her without even bothering to hide it. Deran on the other hand gave her a scolding look that said she wasn’t helping anything by being a snarky bitch. Whatever… “Look, as I said, we are here for information and to give you some in return.”

“Fine. What is it that you want to know?” Anastacia muttered with a frown as Chloe shot daggers at Tracy with her eyes.

“A… acquaintance of ours was murdered recently in this city. Her name was Colleen Avery and she was a Banshee. You have the most powerful coven in this city and it’s my understanding that nothing happens here without your knowledge. I want to know what you know about it and please be aware that my friend here is a walking lie detector so don’t bother.” Tracy said, straightening her shoulders and glaring between her grandmother and her cousin. 

“How do we know you didn’t kill them?” Chloe asked, her voice so sickly sweet, feigning innocence, it made Tracy’s fingers itch with the need to shove them in her ears.

“Hush, Chloe. Catrasia did not come to town until the day before yesterday so we know she didn’t murder the banshee or her shifter friends.” Anastasia chastised the younger witch who just shrugged as though she didn’t really care either way. That didn’t bother Tracy though, hell before the Seer had whammied her with a vision of the future she could have lived without, she hadn’t cared much either… still didn’t really. “I’m afraid we don’t know much. I had a friend of ours within the New York Police Department join the investigation. He hasn’t turned up much, other than a working theory of the events that took place the night they were murdered. At this point I would be willing to bet that you know more about their murders than we do.”

Tracy had to admit that if what her grandmother claimed was actually true then they probably did. “Your friend in the police department, can he get us unfettered access to the crime scene?”

“He can… on one condition. I would like you to tell me what you know of these murders and what you uncover in your investigation. I would also ask that my friend at the NYPD join you in your exploits whilst you are here in New York.”

“Forget it.”

“Catrasia be reasonable, you have no reason to trust me but I have no reason to trust you either. You could be more your Fathers daughter than your mothers.”

“What? What did you…?”

“How dare you?” Adalai snarled, standing quickly without a pause. “You do not even know her and yet you think you can pass judgement on the quality of her character? Where were you when she needed you? As far as I can see if anyone is like her sorry excuse for a father, it’s her sorry excuse for a grandmother.”

Tracy looked up at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw. Anastasia’s comments had been cutting and hurtful but other than the initial shock it hadn’t ruffled Tracy too much. In fact she had expected it. Adalai’s reaction, on the other hand, was not expected in the slightest. A vein in his jaw was jumping as he glared at the old witch from behind his glasses as tension rippled through his broad shoulders and muscular torso. Tracy ripped her eyes away from him and glanced at Deran to find a matching look of disdain and anger on his face, also directed at her Grandmother.

“I don’t know who you gentleman are but you do not get to talk to me like that in my own home, now-,” Anastasia began but Tracy cut her off.

“Adalai, sit down. Thank you for sticking up for me, both of you, but it’s not necessary. Nothing this woman says can hurt me. Now Anastasia, you are right, you don’t know me. You don’t know what I am capable of. I may be just like my Father but if that’s true then shouldn’t you be wearier of upsetting me? Obviously you were afraid of John Rogers, would you not be afraid of his kin?”

“You are a female. You have no power to be feared.” That time both Adalai and Deran snorted in derision and boosted her ego at the same time. It was nice having not one but two people standing behind her, beside her, putting faith in her and the power she had. Another uncomfortable feeling she could get used to.

“You are mistaken, Anastasia,” she murmured, looking her Grandmother in the eye as she muttered her incantation and felt her features manipulate themselves until she was a mirror image of her grandmother.

“By the Creator… what is she? She’s some kind of freak, Grandma!” Chloe screeched, eliciting a shifter-worthy growl from Adalai.

“You… you’re the one…” Anastasia mumbled, covering her mouth with her hand.

“The one what?” Tracy asked as Anastasia’s own voice flowed from her mouth. The old woman’s eyes were darting backwards and forwards, the racing of her mind echoed on her face.

“If I had known, Catrasia… I would have come for you, I swear it.”

Okay… so that wasn’t the reaction Tracy had expected. It shocked her enough for her to lose her concentration. She felt her features contort until her own face replaced her grandmothers with a look of absolute confusion on it. “Well, too bad. You didn’t know and now you can never use my power for your own, so I guess what goes around comes around after all.”

“I… I have failed you. I have failed my daughter. My Sara… By the Creator, all this time… how could I have been so wrong,” Anastacia stood and walked over to a sideboard, pulling a small framed photograph from it. Tracy was so confused by her grandmother’s change in demeanour that she missed the disgusted look on Chloe’s face. Deran didn’t and his warning growl soon drew Tracy and Anastasia’s attention to it.

“Chloe, leave us.”

“What? I will not leave you with these… people,” the blonde sneered, her mouth thinning to a cruel line.

“You will… now, Chloe. I will not ask again.” Anastasia’s tone held a warning and Tracy had the distinct impression that she should have feared the threat behind it. She didn’t but she couldn’t help feeling like she should. Chloe huffed but did as she was asked with one last venom-filled look at Tracy as she went. When the door slammed behind her, Tracy looked back at her Grandmother as she sat down once again on her sofa and ran her fingers over the framed photograph in her hand.

“Did your Mother ever tell you how she came to be with your Father?”

“No. It doesn’t matter.”

“Aren’t you the least bit curious?” Anastasia asked, her voice soft and filled with sorrow. A week ago, hell two days ago, she would have shrugged and walked away without a thought but something was happening to her, changing within her… or maybe she was just a glutton for punishment.

“Maybe… tell me,” Tracy demanded before she lost her nerve.

“Sixty four years ago, your mother came home with a man. A human… or so she said. She was in love. I gave her my blessing at first. Then it came to my attention that he was not a human at all. He was a mage… you must understand that in those days the inter-mingling of species was frowned upon even more than it is today. Witches in particular were only allowed to mate with humans or males from Witch families. It was decreed by the grand coven and those who broke the decree were banished from their coven for good. When I confronted Sara about her lover, she swore I was mistaken, swore he was as human as they come but I did not believe her. She told me she was leaving with him anyway. She was always rebellious and I assumed this was another way of hurting me. In my anger, I cast her out. I banished her from her own coven, her own family, because my pride had been wounded with her… embarrassing antics. A year later she came back, she was beaten and broken. She said I had been right all along. Her lover was a mage after all and he was cruel and evil in a way she had not been prepared for. Again I thought she was lying. I assumed the paradise she had rebelled against me, against our ways, for had not been everything she expected it to be and she had come running back with her tail between her legs. Again my pride got the better of me and I sent her away. I… I sent her back to him. That was the last time I ever saw my little girl and I have hated myself for being so stubborn ever since.”

Tracy stared unblinkingly at the miserable woman before her with anger in her heart like a black hate-filled stone, weighing her down and threatening to drown her in darkness. Adalai was cringing and breathing heavily beside her and she looked at him, unable to keep the concern from her face. He shook his head almost imperceptibly, trying to tell her he was fine but she couldn’t resist placing her hand on his leg anyway. He released a long breath and seemed to sit up a little straighter and it made her feel stronger in turn.

“So… my Mother is dead because you couldn’t let go of your pride?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper but filled with accusation.

“Yes… My daughter is dead because I couldn’t get past the idea that you would never have been born… the irony is excruciating.”

“I’m sorry… what?”

“Every witch coven has been told for centuries that the inter-mingling of our species with others will prevent the leader of our next generations from being born and that would mean the extinction of Witches altogether. A seer told the Grand Coven leader; Jemima, that the new leader would be born to this coven and she would have powers unmatched by other witches. She would not require the use of a talisman. I had two daughters. Chloe is the daughter of your Aunt Raina. She is very talented but we knew from her first birthday that she was not the leader the Seer foretold, despite what she herself believes. When your Mother left to be with a mage, despite being forbidden, I felt as though she had not only jeopardised our Coven’s standing with the Grand Coven but she had also jeopardised the future of the next generation of Witches forever. She broke my heart, or so I thought… and yet, here you are. The leader that was foretold.”

“You’re wrong… I am not a leader. Hell, I’m not anything. I’m just someone trying to pay a debt so she can go her own way. I want nothing to do with your coven.” Tracy ground out through gritted teeth.

“Be that as it may, you will lead us. It has been seen.”

“I don’t give a fuck if it’s tattooed on the asses of the Gods themselves. I am not your next leader… I am not your next anything. You sent my Mother to her death. Why would I lead you anywhere, except perhaps off a cliff?”

“Ladies… we are not getting anywhere,” Deran murmured, stopping Anastasia from answering with what was surely another platitude of things to come. “Anastasia, will you help us with our investigation?”

“I will give you anything you ask for,” she murmured, her eyes brimming with tears that only served to infuriate Tracy more.

“Tracy… please… calm down…” Adalai muttered in laboured pants beside her and she saw his copper skin had a sickly, pale clamour to it. He was being sorely affected by her anger and it only made her angrier. Dammit! She took a deep breath and felt a little of the murderous vengeance thrumming through her blood seep out into the ether. A minute or two later she felt, not calmed, but at least not ready to create a bloodbath in the pristine living room though the thought was still damn attractive.

“Thank you, Vampy… much appreciated.” Adalai’s deadpanned reaction made her snort in the ridiculousness of it which was obviously his intention.

“What are you?” Anastasia asked in interest, her eyes flickering between him and Deran.

“They’re not mages, obviously not witches either… why? Is it going to be a problem?” Tracy demanded, Adalai’s hand flying to her knee at the same time Deran placed his on her shoulder. The touch of both of them at the same time did something to her. It broke through the haze of anger inside her that was always beneath the surface and that feeling of safety she had found so uncomfortable earlier hit her full-force in the gut. She had never felt so… safe… ever… but the strangest part was the sense of hope that replaced the anger that had been her constant companion since she was knee high to a grasshopper. It was her oldest friend, a consistent enemy that she could always rely on and yet when the demon brothers put their hands on her at the same time it was just… gone. What. The. Fuck?

“… curious.”

“What?” Tracy asked, blinking. She had become so completely lost in the comforting touch Deran and Adalai offered she missed the answer Anastasia gave. Hell, she’d forgotten the freaking question.

“I said, I am no longer bound by the confines of superstition. I was just curious.”

“We are vengeance Demons.” Deran murmured, his eyes planted on Tracy as though she had just found the answer to world peace. A glance to her left showed that Adalai was looking at her the same way, though there was a knowing smile on his face. As though where Deran was shocked by what he saw, Adalai was having a theory confirmed.

“My… a pair? How interesting. Where are the three of you staying?” That question snapped Tracy back into the here and now with a vengeance the brothers could have been proud of.

“Not here. If all works out we will be on our way back to Texas tomorrow.”

“That is a shame. I have plenty of room for you, should you change your mind.” Anastasia murmured, obviously sensing it wasn’t a subject up for discussion. Wise. Very wise.

“Tell us about the shifter that will help us.” Tracy murmured, somewhat breathlessly.

“A good man, a better police officer. I will call him and get him to meet you here if that is acceptable?”

Huh? Okay… this new deferential treatment was a bit more than Tracy could handle and yet she was handling it. Whatever Deran and Adalai were doing it was somehow imbuing her with the strength she needed not to strangle the old woman looking at her like she was the second coming. Whatever… she’d take strength wherever she could get it.

“Fine. Now the next order of business…” Tracy began explaining what she knew of the upcoming war. The war she had been shown by the Seer. The war she knew without a shadow of doubt was coming and the war she had no intention of fighting in. Adalai jumped in intervals, adding his own knowledge and even Deran seemed to be more at home with the facts as they stated them than he had when they’d initially told him.

“So… what you are saying is there was originally nine gods, four of light and four of darkness and they each had a hand in creating us. All of us?”

“That’s right. Except the ninth God, Ominex. He was supposed to be a neutral party. A god to balance the black and white nature of the dark Gods and the holier than thou nature of the Gods of light. Except he rebelled. He hated humanity for what they had done to his creation, the earth, and he sought to destroy them. The other Gods refused his plans and in retaliation he created the Flux. Supernaturals, Demons, Angels… we were created to fight the Flux and for a long time the gods thought we had won. But Ominex has been manipulating the supernatural communities for a long time and now there’s a new threat. The Resistance is determined to end the way of life supernaturals have created. They do not want to hide any longer. They want to take their ‘rightful places’ as rulers of humanity and they have infiltrated the highest ranks of supernatural societies to do it. They are creating weapons to ensure the destruction of all supes who get in their way. I was almost killed by this weapon. It made me weak enough that I was almost human. Tracy saved my life.”

“You did?” Anastasia asked Tracy, again the reverence in her voice was evident. And annoying.

“Yeah well… I had a debt to pay.” Tracy shifted uncomfortably as Adalai shook his head beside her with a grin.

“Okay… what do you want us to do?”

“What?” Tracy frowned at her grandmother in bemusement. “Just like that? You believe us?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You are to lead us, after all.”

“I… Okay, whatever. I’ve told you this so when the time comes you will be prepared. So you can join the fight against the Resistance.” So I won’t have to.

“You have my word, it will be done.”

“Sure…”

“And you will be the one to lead us into this battle.”

“What? No.”

“If you say so, Catrasia, but I choose to believe differently.” With that Anastasia stood from her seat, walked over to Tracy, who leaned back dubiously in her seat, and handed her the picture frame she had been handling before she left the room, gently closing the door behind her. Tracy’s eyes followed the old witch in question before looking down at the picture. There, with a rare smile on her face, arm in arm with a younger Anastasia was a woman that could have been Tracy’s twin. She had long flowing hair and crystallised chocolate brown eyes that sparkled. A care-free and cheeky smile was on her face and it was the most beautiful thing Tracy had ever seen.

“Is that..?

“My mother… Sara Ascia.” Tracy whispered, her eyes filling with water once again. That made three times in three weeks. What the hell? “I… I need some air.” Deran nodded and helped her stand. Tracy shook off his assistance and walked over to the bay window with a determination to keep her heartbreak to herself. She didn’t want their pity. She told herself she didn’t want anything from them. Not the safety they seemed to provide, the comfort, the friendship… the hope. None of it. All she had to do now was convince herself of that. Once again she peered down at the picture of her mother and felt another pang of loss that had never really subsided. Not since she had found her broken body at the bottom of the stairs in their shared basement. Gods, how she missed her. It was amazing how much you could miss someone you barely even knew. Five years was all the time she had gotten with her, give or take a few months. And the following sixteen years without her. And yet, she felt her absence every day. Felt the absence of a woman that had been in her life for less than a third of it. The heart was a strange, illogical thing.

“Chase will be here shortly. He was already on his way,” Anastasia announced as she walked back into the room with a tray of tea and crackers. Tracy nodded and turned back to the window, continuing to stare out into the autumn colours of the yard outside pondering the fickle nature of her bodily organs some more. After twenty minutes of listening to Deran, Adalai and Anastasia talk awkwardly amongst themselves as the demons answered Anastasia’s questions and she in turn answered theirs in between periods of awkward silence, a bell rang in the hallway. A few minutes later and a car was pulling up beside hers in the driveway. A tall, large man, almost as big as Kaleb climbed out and made his way up to the front door. He had long scruffy hair and a short, unkempt beard which, coupled with his checked, cotton shirt, made him look like a lumberjack. She watched Chloe open the door, roll her eyes and motion him inside. Apparently she wasn’t a big fan of the lumberjack cop. It gave Tracy hope that he wasn’t going to be the asshole she had been expecting.

“Anastasia. Good to see you.”

“And you, Chase. This is my Granddaughter, Catrasia.”

“Granddaughter? I thought you only had one.”

“She does and isn’t she a prize? My mother was Sara Ascia. She’s dead. I met my grandmother for the first time a couple of hours ago and so far not a big fan. I understand you are investigating the murder of three supes here in the city?” Tracy said by way of introduction causing Chase, the lumberjack cop, to blink at her stupidly.

“I knew your mother. She was a good woman. I’m sorry for what happened to her.”

Well, shit. If today wasn’t the day for unexpected shit she didn’t know when it was. “Thank you… Er… the crime your investigating,” she mumbled awkwardly, suddenly unsure of herself. All of this nicety that was suddenly flying around was much more difficult to deal with than if everybody were unforgiveable assholes.

“Of course. A friend of Sara’s is a friend of mine.”

“Really? Then why are you friends with her,” Tracy asked nodding towards Anastasia, unable to stop herself.

“Hmm, sometimes I do wonder.” He said with a grin, which had Anastasia rolling her eyes.

“Hmph, whatever. Can you take us to the crime scene? You can fill us in on what you know on the way.”

“Sure, Skippy. The names Chase, by the way. Detective Chase Collins.” He held out his hand to Tracy and she shook it tentatively, offering him a grim smile. He turned and started to do the same with Adalai when his nostrils flared and his eyes glowed a dim shifter yellow. “Demon,” he growled, his fangs extending.

“Oh joy… one of those shifters,” Adalai murmured with an eye roll.

“Hey, Skippy. I just started to like you, don’t make me change my mind,” Tracy snarled, her own eyes brightening in irritation. Chase’s eyes shot to hers for a moment until he visibly took a breath and the yellow glow dimmed in his eyes.

“You really are your Mothers daughter. She saw past the confines of race as well. She’d be proud.” He murmured before turning back to Adalai, “Sorry. It’s a reflex.”

“No problem. We’re used to it.” Adalai said with a sardonic smile and shook the man’s hand without pause or animosity. Deran on the other hand, gave a sneer and turned away, walking towards the door without a word.

“Hmm, guess I deserved that,” Chase murmured, motioning Tracy and Adalai to follow the angry demon.

“Wait! Catrasia… you will come back? Please…” Anastasia murmured, her heart in her eyes and then Tracy saw her for what she truly was. A woman swarmed with self-hatred and guilt. She was lonely and pitiful, but not necessarily the dark, sinister evil that Tracy had imagined her to be.

“Well, that depends on how our investigation goes but I er… I suppose I can… Erm… give you a call… or something.” Shit that was awkward.

“A call? Okay. A call would be wonderful.” A strange sort of sheen came over Anastasia’s eyes as she gave Tracy a doe-eyed look that had her stomach twisting in discomfort.