“WE SHOULDN’T BE here. Holy fuck, we really shouldn’t be here.”
Niko is nervous, frantic even, but there’s no way I can find the words to calm him. The Divine’s fallen children? What does that mean? That there are more people like him? Those who don’t agree with the politics of the Divine order?
Denny comes behind us to clap a hand on our shoulders. “Here, you’ll find everyone from the divine powers to vampire, werewolves and witches. We are the castaways. The rebels. We’ve refused to conform, so we’ve chosen to rewrite our destinies.”
Wait. Did he say werewolves?
Oh hell no.
“And you’ve managed to stay underground? Completely undetected?” Niko asks, although I doubt he’s barely breathed since we entered.
“There are portals in every major city in the world,” Denny explains. “We lead normal lives, keep up the front of good, little foot soldiers, fighting the good fight for the sake of our respective rulers, but it’s merely out of survival. To be honest, most of us are tired. Immortality has given us time to question some of our choices, only to see that we never got to choose at all. We’re all just pawns in a much bigger chess game. Come on, let me show you.”
We follow Denny as he weaves through the crowd, giving us the grand tour of the massive-sized club. Hordes of both Dark and Light stop to greet him fondly, as well as other creatures of the night. When their cautious eyes fall on Niko and me, Denny explains that we’re family of his from out of town, looking to find solace from the Dark king’s tyranny. And just like that, looks of suspicion turn to greetings of acceptance.
“Now that you’re all united, have there been any other people…like me?” I whisper, as Denny leads us to a private VIP section sheathed in colorful drapes. It reminds me of those outdoor cabanas in Las Vegas, minus the pool and debilitating heat.
“Oh, shit no,” he answers, shaking his head emphatically. “Consorting, let alone reproducing, means sudden death. Your parents were the example. No one wants to meet the same fate.”
I nod, diverting my eyes to the floor. I appreciate Denny’s help, but I’m not revealing the truth about Alexander. Sure, it could give others hope, but it could also put his life in jeopardy. As if we need any help with that.
A group of girls bound into the cabana, calling for Denny to come dance with them. They’re all different—blondes, brunettes, redheads—and their eyes shine like multi-colored jewels against the darkness of the club. One girl’s eyes glow an odd neon yellowish-green. I turn to Niko with a curious, raised brow, and he mouths, “werewolf.” Huh. Figures. If the Dark created vampires, then it only makes sense that the Light would have created werewolves to counter them.
“Be careful,” Denny warns quietly, climbing to his feet. “Especially with her. To some, she’s a beacon of light, proof that change is coming. To others, she is the beginning of the end. Best to keep her identity under wraps until you’ve found what you’re looking for.”
“Thank you, Denny,” I say, giving him a grateful smile. “Seriously. Thank you. We’re one step closer to finding a way to bring Dorian back.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I got you in, but you’re on your own with finding an Enchanter that’s willing to help a Dark prince, let alone two.” Then he’s gone, pulled onto the dance floor by his posse of supernatural admirers.
“What are you thinking?” I ask, once Niko and I are alone.
“That I’ve been so blind,” he remarks, his voice barely above a whisper. “And if they all knew who I was, I’d be slaughtered on that dance floor just for fun.”
“They don’t hate you, Niko,” I assure him, reaching out to take his hand. “They hate what your family stands for, but it’s not you they hate. They don’t even know you.”
He shakes head, frowning. “The things I’ve done…I’ve probably ordered hits on their loved ones, if not killed them myself. What drives someone to betray their race? Tragedy. And I’m sure I’ve caused more than my fair share of that for these souls. For what? To still not be accepted by my father? To be seen as no more than a delinquent child to my mother? Cyrus and Dorian were the only two left who saw me for what I truly am. And now they’re gone.”
I squeeze his hand tighter, causing him to meet my gaze. “Hey. We’ll get them back. And they’re not the only ones you have. I see you, Niko. I’ve always seen you.”
The corner of his mouth twitches, but he looks away. “Come on,” he says, pulling me to my feet. “We have work to do.”
I don’t know what we thought we’d achieve once we got in here, but winging it was clearly not a good idea. People were weary to talk to newcomers, rightfully so. And it didn’t help that they kept giving Niko suspicious looks. And me with my plain, hazel eyes and non-detectable magic didn’t do us any favors either.
Niko is working a table of Light women, laying on the charm thick as I watch, perched on a high stool at the bar. They’re eating it up, impressed by his designer clothes and the expensive champagne he’s treated them to. Apparently, most of them have been forced to abandon their riches in exchange for just a taste of freedom. So they take modest jobs out of the public eye, that don’t require them to use their powers. Using draws attention, and attention is what they want to avoid at all costs.
Denny Nox is the exception, of course. He keeps up the façade, and in turn, it’s beneficial to his lifestyle. However, he seems to be well known and respected among this crowd, especially with the ladies. I’m not surprised. Even without the super-sexual mojo, he’s a freakin’ god.
I’m working on my second club soda with lime, trying to keep from yawning, when the guy next to me mutters something that nearly makes me fall off my barstool.
“I know who you are.”
Ignore him, I tell myself. There’s no way he’s talking to me.
“And I know what you are.”
Slowly, I turn on my stool, following the direction of the deep, velvety voice. “Excuse me?”
“I know,” the man says, yet his head is turned in the opposite direction, only giving me a view of shoulder-length blonde hair. He’s a mountain of a man, yet his stylish jeans, soft leather jacket and scarf make him seem less intimidating.
As if feeling my eyes surveying him, he turns to me.
And I gasp.
He’s beautiful. Ethereal. Radiant. And Light.
His golden eyes sparkle under the dim-lighting, highlighting sharp cheekbones, deep dimples and bowed lips. I’ve only seen Light women, and while they were stunning, nothing could have prepared me for this. Dorian, Niko, Denny and even my father are extraordinarily handsome. But this man…he’s pretty. Like feminine pretty. But with his daunting frame and molten stare, something is telling me that he’s 100% man.
I shift in my seat uncomfortably, contemplating making a dash for Niko, but the man speaks again, sending a shiver down my spine. “Don’t run. You don’t want to do that.”
“You don’t know what I want,” I retort, yet I stay fastened to my stool.
“I know you want the Light’s help to save a Dark One. And I know you’re never going to get what you want, especially when you’re teaming up with a Dark prince.”
“And how do you know that?” I ask, forcing down the little quiver in my voice.
“Because I know you, Gabriella. I’ve been keeping an eye on you for a little while now. And I know my kind. No one will help you. They say you’re cursed—that everyone that cares for you will die. The Light are typically sympathetic, not suicidal.”
I bite the inside of my cheek and turn away, forcing back the bubbling anger and pain. I didn’t need that reminder. I know what a sacrifice it is to be in my life. I’ve lost more loved ones since my ascension than I’m strong and sane enough to acknowledge. So I don’t need some pretty boy Light asshole rehashing all the hurt that I’ve been trying to stifle.
“However, I am anything but typical. So if you need an Enchanter, I’m at your service.”
My head turns so fast that he flinches at the sudden movement. Did he just…? “Why?”
“Because you need me.”
I shake my head in disbelief. This is just entirely too easy. There’s got to be a catch. “What do you want?”
“Ah,” he smiles smugly. “The burning question. What do I want? It’s quite simple, really, Gabriella.” He leans in close. So close that I can smell the sweet fragrance of sunlight on his skin and seduction on his lips. “Revenge, sweet girl. I want revenge.”
Niko flashes to my side, sensing the change in the atmosphere. Without drawing more eyes, he inserts himself as close to me as possible. “Problem here?” There’s malice on his icy cool breath.
The Light Enchanter smiles slyly, appearing nothing but confident as he takes in the Warlock beside me. Niko may be drop dead gorgeous, but anyone could see that he’s dangerous. He’s the Belladonna: beautiful but deadly.
“No, no problem at all,” the blonde says, returning his attention to his drink. “Unless you count your brother being lost to you forever.”
“What did you say?” Niko grits through a tightly clenched jaw. He steps in closer, mere inches separating him from his mortal enemy. Still, the Enchanter appears oblivious.
“Your brother, Dorian. He’s in trouble, correct? And you’ve been tap-dancing for those girls over there for the past half hour because you think you can seduce one of them into helping you. It won’t work, by the way. They see past your bullshit, as do I. They’re just enjoying the free alcohol.”
Niko’s body vibrates with rage, the tendons in his neck and shoulders coiling like rubber bands. Yet, when he grasps my arm, his touch his gentle, almost overly careful. “Come on,” he mutters, guiding me off the stool. I can see how painfully difficult it is for him to walk away to preserve our ambiguity. The Niko I know would have sliced that man’s neck with a flick of his wrist, leaving him to drown in his own blood.
“I can help you,” the blonde says as Niko leads me away from the bar. “I can help you bring him back.”
“And why should we believe you?” Niko sneers from over his shoulder.
“Because you have no other choice. I’m your only chance. Look around—you’re the outsider for once. Besides,” he says, sliding off his stool and striding over to us, his tall, broad frame at least half a foot higher than Niko’s. “It’s the right thing to do. It’s what my sister would have done. It’s what she did do.”
“Your sister?” I whisper, eyes wide.
The man tips his head humbly. “My name is Solaris, but please, call me Lars. My twin sister was Solara, the Enchantress who died trying to protect you.” He shakes his head and looks away, but not before I catch a glimpse of sadness gleaming in those topaz eyes. Her death is still fresh. He’s in mourning. And while my life has been total chaos since the day of my would-be demise, it’s hardly been two weeks. Maybe we’re all still grieving.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, not knowing what else to offer. I am sorry, and I feel completely responsible for what happened to his sister. And if getting his revenge is what he needs to move on, then who am I to deny him that? “And thank you, Lars. We appreciate what you’re willing to do for us.”
“What?” Niko’s hands are grasping my shoulders, and he’s spun me around to face him. “You don’t know this guy, Gabs. I don’t give a fuck about who he is or what he claims happened to his sister. I don’t like him.”
Lars takes a step forward, his daunting frame casting a shadow over us. “The feeling is mutual. But I’m not here for you, Dark One. I’m here for Gabriella. And if she wants my help, then there’s nothing you can do or say to stop me.”
Niko whirls around, pressing his chest into the taller man’s. “Sure about that, twinkle toes? Wouldn’t want you to mess up your pretty hair.”
“Oh, I won’t,” Lars retorts, his golden eyes churning into molten lava. “I won’t even break a sweat.”
“Knock it off, guys,” I whisper furiously, feeling dozens of curious eyes on us. Denny catches wind from across the room, and manifests in front of us in the next second, setting his hands on each man’s shoulder.
“Hey guys, not in here.” He turns to Lars and frowns. “You know the rules, Lars. I know your head is fucked up right now, but I expect more from you.”
Lars sucks his teeth before shrugging out of Denny’s grip and stalking off. I watch as he disappears into a dark corridor behind the bar, feeling like we just lost our only shred of hope. Defeat comes out in a heavy breath, and I fight back frustrated tears. Fuck. We were so close. So damn close to getting what we need.
“You guys have to go,” I hear Denny say. “People are starting to talk.”
I nod, refusing to look at him or Niko. I can’t. If I do, I’ll lose my shit. And that will manifest as either unbridled sorrow or uncontrollable rage. Both will expose me, and practically squelch any chance at getting out of here alive.
We quickly exit the way we came, pushing through the wall and into the dingy bathroom of the gay bar. Two men are making out by the tiny, stained sink, groping each other’s groins through tight leather pants. Another is catching the explicit act on his iPhone, pleased as punch at his friends’ drunk antics. I hurriedly brush past them, too upset to even give the scene a second glance.
“Slow down,” Niko says, as I push my way through the crowd. A drag version of Britney Spears circa 1999, complete with pom-pom pigtails and plaid miniskirt, stops in front of us to air kiss friends. I zip around their bodies, probably too quickly than I should, but fuck it—what do I care? Without Lars, we’re hopeless. We won’t get another shot like the one we had.
“Gabs, I said, hold up,” Niko shouts from behind me. I ignore him. If I answer, I’ll say something that I’ll regret. I care for Niko, and I appreciate his protective nature, but right now, I want to strangle him. And I don’t mean that figuratively. I may have come a long way, but I’m still that hot-tempered girl who doesn’t think before she speaks. I know I have a tendency to hurt the people I love. So speaking to Niko right now just isn’t an option. Not if I want him to stay in my life. And right now, when I’m struggling to hold on to just a scrap of my humanity, I need him by my side. He’s more than just my friend—he’s my family.
By the time I make it outside I’m panting, frustration coming out with every breath. I gulp cigarette-tinged air, trying to cleanse the toxic emotions roiling inside me. When a cab stops in front of me, I hop in, not even waiting to see if Niko is right behind me. Lucky for him, he jumps in on the other side before I give the cabbie our location.
“Gabs, I’m—”
“Not now.”
I hear him sigh, but I just keep looking out of the window, watching the city lights whiz past us like a smear of paint. This is what my life has become—just a blur—a smudge of black oil that just gets bigger and more troublesome the more you try to rub it out. And just when you think you’ve got it under control, the smudge spreads, creating an even greater mess, until all you see is oily blackness. And there’s no use in salvaging what is no longer a beautiful canvas.
As soon as we pull up to the Pacifica, I jump out of the cab, leaving Niko to deal with the fare. I’m at the elevators when he finally catches up with me.
“Will you just calm down for a second?” he snaps, stopping the closing elevator door with a hand. I scoot to the far end of the car as he steps in, my eyes diverted at the ground. “You’re acting like a child. You can’t just trust any Tom, Dick and Harry with an ax to grind. That could’ve been a trap to set you up.”
“But it wasn’t.” My voice is low, but it’s the calm before the storm. I know what’s coming; I can feel it. Still, I can’t even stop it.
Thankfully, the elevator stops at our floor and I race out, practically running from Niko. Running from my rage and pain. I fish out the key card from my clutch, but my hand is shaking so badly that I drop it on the floor. Niko retrieves it before I can and opens the door, holding it so I can pass. I brush by him, ripping off my coat and throwing it across the bed.
“You don’t know what his M.O. is, Gabs. You just met the guy.”
“But I knew his sister. She died trying to protect me.”
Niko takes a few steps towards me, yet keeps a safe distance. “That’s not a good enough reason to trust him.”
I finally let myself look at him, but I can’t see past the red haze of wrath. “Yet, I’m supposed to trust you? Someone who admittedly has killed more people than he can count, including the woman he loved? Not to mention, attacked and nearly killed me as well.”
The blow of betrayal is strong enough to make Niko reel back several feet, grimacing as if I’ve just physically slapped him across the face. The pain in his expression is undeniable, making my own face contort as if I can feel the sting of my own words. I’ve hurt him. But even worse, I’ve reminded him of all the reasons he can’t forgive himself.
I’m a monster.
Nikolai Skotos is one of the strongest men I’ve ever known, and I’ve destroyed him in three sentences. I really haven’t changed. I haven’t grown at all since my ascension. I’m still that ruthless, callous bitch, willing to sacrifice the people she’s closest to for her own personal punching bag.
I’m propelled to last summer, walking downtown with Dorian. He was furiously protective of me, and frustrated that he couldn’t find my attacker. And what did I do as soon as he gave me an excuse to be pissy? I hurt him. I humiliated him. I made him feel weak and useless, when in reality, he is anything but.
Something is wrong with me. I need to be stopped. If I continue like this, I won’t have anyone left. And why should I? Why would anyone subject themselves to my verbal assaults?
I move towards him, my eyes pleading for forgiveness. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,” I stammer, trying to get the words out as quickly as possible. Anything to erase that look on his face. “Niko, please. You have to believe me.”
He just stares at me, unblinking, as if he’s just now seeing me for what I am. As if I’ve been a wolf in sheep’s clothing this entire time, and someone has just pulled the wool from over his eyes. And maybe I am. Maybe the villain isn’t Stavros or Aurora. Maybe it’s me. People die because of me. People have had to uproot their entire lives because of me.
Silence stretches between us, pushing Niko further and further away from me. His back hits the wall, making it blatantly clear that he wants to escape this room—escape me. I want to go to him, beg for his forgiveness, but I’m afraid. Afraid that I’ve lost him forever, just like Dorian.
“Say something,” I beg. I swallow, tasting bile. I’m so disgusted with myself, that I’m physically ill. “Even if you want to yell at me, call me a bitch, tell me I’m a miserable person. Just please…say something.”
He drops his gaze, leaving me in the cold where I belong. Then in the next second, he turns towards the door, and he freezes, his brow furrowed in concentration.
I hear it at the same time he does—the squeaky wheel of a cart. It bypasses rooms 1588 through 1602, stopping at 1604. My room.
I know those three knocks are coming, yet I still flinch. I’ll never get used to the sound of bare knuckles rapping against wood. It’ll forever haunt my dreams, serving as the menacing music played in my own personal horror flick.
Knock, knock, knock.
That’s the sound of Death calling.
Niko goes to look out the peephole, but turns back to me, shaking his head. Either there’s no one there, or someone is deliberately covering the peephole. Theory number one is quickly tossed out the window when someone knocks again, announcing, “Housekeeping.”
It’s 1:37 in the morning.
It is not fucking Housekeeping.
They’ve found us. Aurora, Stavros and now Dorian, have found us. And they want to remind us that there is nowhere to hide. They’ll keep sending Death to our doorstep. They’ll keep forcing us to kill innocent kids who have no control over their thoughts or actions. They want us to surrender—to come crawling back, begging for mercy. And right at this moment, I’m not sure if that’s such a bad idea.
There’s one last knock before the sounds of muted shuffling are heard from the other side of the door. There’s a quick struggle, a crunching snap and then silence. Dead silence.
The next round of knocks takes the breath out of me, but something compels me to flash to the door and whip it open. Call it intuition or a plain stupidity. But the moment I turn that handle, I know I am twisting open a whole can of worms that only a certifiably crazy person could deal with.
Niko leaps in front of me, shielding me with his own body, even after all I’ve said to him. But it’s too late. I’ve already seen what stands just inside that doorway, sucking up space and air with his massive frame.
It’s Lars.
And there’s a dead girl at his feet.