Jordyn

"She died giving birth to me," he answered, wrapping his arms around my midriff.



"Shit, I'm sorry. That's total suckage," I replied, trying to control my breathing and not focus on how good his touch felt.



"It wasn't too bad. My dad was a great guy. He worked hard, didn't drink, and didn't beat me. He was a hero in my eyes. He taught me the difference between right and wrong and how to be a respectful man."



I was dying to ask him what had changed all that. How had his soul been stuck in limbo if he was a good guy?



"What about you? What's the deal with your parents?" he asked with a sudden hard edge in his voice.



I shrugged my shoulders. "Not much to tell. They died in a car accident last year. Our car went off an embankment and landed in a lake. I was the only survivor. If you can call it that," I added sarcastically.



"What do you mean?"



"I essentially drowned. My brain went without oxygen for too long. I lost every memory of who I was."



"I see," he said in an oddly strangled voice.



"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked suspiciously.



"Just seems odd to lose all your memories like that. You don't have an inkling of your parents at all?"



"No." I waited for him to comment, but he remained silent as we watched the sun slowly rising just beyond the buildings. From our vantage point, the sunrise was breathtaking.



"It's amazing," I commented, watching the rays spread out.



"Yes, it is," he said, resting his chin on my shoulder.



My body tingled. His closeness was doing odd things to the temperature of my body. I felt feverish, knowing that if I twisted my head just the slightest bit to the left, my lips would meet his. It was tempting, but I fought the urge. It might sound strange, but I wanted a clearer read on this guy before I committed that way. Even though his arms were wrapped around me, I couldn't be sure he wasn't somehow playing me, and that it really didn't mean anything.



"What do want to do today?" he asked, brushing his lips against my neck.



Um,this, I thought as I tilted my head slightly, giving him better access. "I should probably head back home," I said instead, trying to keep the reluctance out of my voice.



"Once again, if Hannie is going to have a fit anyway, why hurry back?" he asked, nuzzling his face deeper into the crook of my neck.



"Truth," I squeaked out.



"I'd say we could stay here just like this, but being summertime, once the sun fully rises, it'll be hotter than Hades's ass up here," he said, placing his hands on my waist so he could turn me to face him. "What would you like to do? We can literally go anywhere in the world you want to," he said, moving a hand up to tuck a lock of my hair behind my ear.



"What exactly is your tattoo?" I asked out of the blue as I studied the delicate curved markings that ran along his collarbone, disappearing down the back of his shirt.



"You like that, huh? It's a dragon," he answered, releasing me.



I instantly missed the feel of his hands on my hips, wishing I'd kept my mouth shut. A moment later, my mouth dropped open as he tugged off his t-shirt. Before I could fully appreciate the chiseled abdomen in front of me, he turned around so I could see the full tattoo that moved down around his back, ending at his side. The intricate design of the dragon was amazing. I couldn't help admiring the detail. Multiple patterns made up the body of the dragon as they were woven in and out of each other. Leaning even closer, I could see that what looked like random patterns were actual places disguised as scales of the dragon. I traced the line with my finger to a point that was clearly the same building we were currently perched on.



Emrys's skin quivered slightly beneath my touch. At least the attraction wasn't one-sided. I ran my finger more boldly across his back as I traced other landmarks like the Great Wall of China and Big Ben.



"It's freaking amazing," I finally said, tracing the Golden Gate Bridge. "It must have taken forever to have this much detail done."



"Time's not much of an issue for me," he said, turning back around. "Plus, I have a guy I go to who never asks questions. That comes in handy when your appearance doesn't change much over a twenty-year span."



"Yeah, I guess that would be hard to explain."



"That's why none of us stay in one place too long. Humans can be oblivious to a lot of things, but even they would get suspicious after a while," he said, pulling his shirt back on.



I swallowed back my disappointment of seeing his perfect flesh covered back up.



"So, did you decide what you want to do today?" he asked, taking my hand in his like it was the most natural thing in the world.



"I want to get a tattoo," I answered as the idea took hold. I waited for him to shoot my idea down like everyone else I knew would have. To tell me I was too young, too important to mar up, blah, blah, blah. He surprised me by grinning broadly at my suggestion.



"That's a great idea. Are you sure though? They can be painful."



"Really? Obviously, you don't know me that well."



"Sweet. Let's blow this popsicle stand then," he said as the catwalk beneath our feet disappeared.



CHAPTER EIGHT



Multiple noises greeted me before I could even open my eyes. "Where are we?" I asked, fighting back a little bit of queasiness as I gawked at the noisy bustling streets just beyond the alleyway where we had landed.



"Shanghai," he answered, lacing his fingers through mine as he tugged me out of the alleyway onto the crowded street beyond.



The instant difference in culture was shocking. Multiple buildings, lit up like Christmas trees and shoulder-to-shoulder people all around me speaking what I guessed was the Mandarin dialect. It was sensory overload, but in a good way. I watched the street vendors in astonishment as a small older gentleman pushed a cart filled with teddy bears across the street, while another woman pulled a cart filled with flowers alongside him.



"This is crazy," I said, gawking as we passed an endless array of specialty shops, hair salons and massage parlors. "Is it always like this?"



He laughed at my question and slung an arm across my shoulders to steer me out of the way of a young man hurrying toward us with another cart filled with goods. "Well, you're not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy. Yep, day or night, Shanghai is always a happening place."



"What time is it here?" I asked, liking the way his arm felt across my shoulders.



"Almost seven at night. Shanghai is a fantastic city," he said, pulling me in close.



"It's a lot busier here than I'm used to," I commented as I watched cars go zooming by one after the next. "And very confusing," I added, peering at all the signs in a language I couldn't speak.



"Nah, it's just like any other city. Once you spend a little time here you become a pro," he said, dragging me down another alleyway.



My nose was assaulted by a sour smell as we walked farther down the alley. "Eww, it stinks," I complained, wrinkling up my nose.



"Well, it is an alley," he teased, stopping in front of a door that was rippled from water damage. He rapped on the door in quick succession. A single bulb hanging above by nothing but its own cord cast a small ray of light down on us. The light blue paint around the doorframe was peeling in the way that you couldn't help but want to reach out to pull off a section.



Standing here waiting wasn't helping my sudden apprehension. The lighting was minimal at best, making me uneasy about the shadows that surrounded us.



"Maybe he's not here," I said after several minutes had passed.



"He's here. It just takes him awhile to respond. You're not scared, are you?" he asked incredulously. "I thought you were like the Terminator Daemon Killer."



"I'm not scared of Daemons or humans," I admitted, flushing in embarrassment.



"Then what?" he asked, mystified.



"Fine, but if you laugh, I'll punch you in your immortal nuts," I threatened.



"Whoa," he said, covering his junk to protect it. "Okay, I won't laugh."



"I'm scared of the things that creep and crawl," I admitted, preparing to hit him if he laughed.



"Like bugs?"



"Bugs, rats, mice. Pretty much anything in that realm," I answered.



"You'd hate some of the places I've been then," he said seriously as the door suddenly swung out toward us.



At first I couldn't make out anything about the person who stood in the doorway since the hallway behind him was as black as the night sky.



I was almost thrown off balance when Emrys reached out to shake a mammoth hand that emerged from the dark hallway in front of us. He greeted the owner of the hand in flawless Mandarin, who then threw a big belly laugh at whatever Emrys was saying as he stepped out into the light to peer at me. I did a double take at the beast of a man in front of me. He had to be seven foot tall and seemed equally as wide. He eyed me with open humor.



"What did you tell him?" I asked Emrys, not a fan of being the butt of a joke.



"He told me you could kick my ass with one hand tied behind your back," the stranger said in a gruff voice, laughing again.



"Oh, well, that's true, but he really doesn't need to do my bragging for me," I said dismissively, making the giant laugh again.



"She's spunky at least," he told Emrys before turning around and lumbering down the hallway. Emrys kept his arm firmly around me as he led me through the doorway and closed the door behind us, cutting off the light. I could hear the massive stranger shuffling down the hall ahead of us. I felt a little uneasy, not from being in a dark place mind you, but who knew what kind of bugs were scurrying around us.



After we had taken about a dozen steps, Emrys pulled me to a stop. I could hear and sense the giant in front of me as he fumbled for the doorknob. Light suddenly flooded the hallway, making me squint until my eyes had a chance to adjust. Glancing around where we stood, I was shocked that unlike the alley we had just left, this place was pristine. I guess I had nothing to worry about. The walls were bright white and the flooring beneath was compromised of oversized ceramic tiles that looked clean enough to eat off of. Emrys gave me a nudge from behind, urging me to follow his friend into the room beyond the hall. Stepping through the doorway, I couldn't help gawking at my surroundings. Everything in the warehouse-sized room was white. The walls were painted the same brilliant white as the hallway without being marred by the hanging of pictures or knickknacks. The same oversized ceramic tiles from the hallway flowed into the sterile space. White plush throw rugs were scattered throughout the room lending the only source of warmth. A leather cream-colored sectional couch ran the length of the far side of the room with a flat-screen TV that sat low on a stand that was also white.



"What's with all the white? Does your friend have a heaven complex or something?"



Emrys barked out a laugh. "Nah, his complex runs closer to your issue," he said, grinning at me.



"And what would that be?" I asked, completely mystified.



"Little Anthony here is scared shitless of bugs," he said, pointing at his friend who lowered himself on the sofa. The sofa buckled and protested slightly beneath his weight.



"That's because bugs are some gross ass shit," Anthony's voice boomed across the room.



I agreed wholeheartedly with him, but I felt his anxiety bordered on loony bin crazy. I wasn't entirely sure why Emrys had brought me to this freak house when we were supposed to be at a tattoo parlor.



"I thought people in China ate bugs," I stated in a dry tone, giving no indication that I myself had been scared of bugs just a few minutes ago.



"I don't eat that shit. Give me McDonald's," Anthony grunted.



"So, my friend E here says you want a tat. You think you're tough enough?" he asked in a condescending voice, obviously put off from my comment.



"Well, considering the fact that I could kick your ass and your friendE'sass with my eyes closed, I'd say so," I snipped out, not liking his tone. I stood in front of his hulking girth, not flinching.



He surprised me by throwing his head back and bellowing out a hearty belly laugh. "You've got some steel balls," he said, pushing himself up from the couch and lumbering away from us. Reaching the far side of the room, he touched a discreet panel that was hidden to the naked eye. A vacuum-sealed door swung open with a splash of color tantalizing our eyes from beyond.



I gasped at the mirage of color that contradicted the stark whiteness of the room we were standing in. Stepping closer, I tried to peer around Anthony so I could get a better look in the space. Anthony stepped fully into the room, allowing Emrys and me to step in behind him. My mouth fell open once inside. Every square inch of the walls, ceiling and floors was filled with intricate airbrushed landscapes. Dozens of dragons, witches, goblins, fairies, and every other mystical being you could dream up were woven into the designs. Some were hidden behind trees in the landscape while others lurked in front of castles or villages. The detail was awe-inspiring and was clearly the same hand that had tattooed Emrys.



"Pretty amazing, huh?" Emrys breathed in my ear, making me shiver with awareness.



"It's pretty cool," I teased. "Especially after the freak show out there."



"Watch it, missy, or I might just tattoo a demon on your snarky ass," Anthony warned as he started pulling out supplies from the long airbrushed camouflaged cabinet that ran the length of one of the walls.



Why would he say that? What does he know about me?



"Relax. He only means since you're acting like a tough ass," Emrys mumbled for my ears only. He must have noticed the way I suddenly tensed up.



It was just the surprise of hearing someone outside of my circle refer to Daemons. Even so, the idea of actually having one tattooed on my ass was downright puke-worthy.



"Only if I'm kicking the demon's ass," I replied.



"Sweetheart, ain't no one doing that. They're vapor, nothing of substance," Anthony answered, pointing to the only chair in the room. I looked at the chair appraisingly, not even aware it was there until he pointed it out. Like the cabinet, it was just another extension of the same airbrushing that covered the walls.



"This really is amazing," I admitted, studying the chair. "Why hide it?"



"I have my reasons," Anthony answered, his genial tone gone.



Emrys shot me a warning glance. Biting back a sarcastic comment, I settled in the chair. It probably wasn't wise to piss off an artist before he permanently put his ink stamp on my skin.