Martinis with the Devil, Part One Page 14

  Selfora sighed serenely and turned to me. “I believe you have some drinks waiting at the bar. I’ll have someone bring them over, and they’re on the house.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “Sorry about all that.”

  Selfora raised her hand as if to deflect my apology. “I hope the rest of your evening is better.” She bowed slightly and walked away.

  We all settled back down again. The waiter came with our drinks, and I handed Riley’s to him. “Sorry, Ri. That sucks about Dan.”

  “Yeah. It’s hard enough to find a good man, let alone one that’s gay and supernatural. And now I have to worry about pack drama?” He rolled his eyes and took a sip of his dirty martini.

  “You’ll find someone else,” Quinn said, patting his thigh. “You’re too awesome to be single for long.”

  “True,” Riley said with a smile.

  That brought a round of laughs. I sat back, trying to laugh with them, and forget that everything was falling apart. I should have known better than to think the peace and easy times we’d had since Evolution would last.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I woke up the next evening to a dozen shapeshifters passed out in my living room and a text message from Eli. That’s right, someone had had the brilliant idea that my apartment would be the perfect place to hang out after we left the bar. And we’d stayed up past dawn drinking. Needless to say, there was a lot of cleaning up to do. So, it was a good thing Eli’s text said something had come up and he needed to meet me later than initially planned.

  As I waded through the slumbering bodies, Quinn came stumbling out of her room. We murmured sleepy greetings, and while I poked about in the fridge she got a bunch of herbs out of the cabinet.

  “Making tea for your hangover?” I asked as I grabbed the milk.

  “Yeah,” she mumbled.

  “One of the good things about being immortal,” I said. “No hangovers.”

  Quinn snorted. “Well, good for you guys.” She filled her mug with water from the tap, then blasted it with a quick heat spell and tossed in the herbs.

  Since pretty much every surface in the living room was occupied, we headed out to the balcony. The night was still purple, not quite black, and only a couple stars were out. Or at least, only a couple that could outshine the city lights, which were at their twinkly brightest. It was the equivalent to the glittery dew at the birth of morning, when all is fresh. Before the evening grew stale and everything faded.

  I cast a glance at Quinn, who was staring out over the city. “What exactly do you remember from last night?” I asked.

  A moment passed before she answered. “Not much. I remember getting hit with the spell, and then you were there, but I blacked out. Until—”

  I waited, slowly munching my cereal.

  “Until I woke up and saw two strange things. Your face, streaked with tears. And Eli, holding you against his chest.”

  Quinn’s turn to wait. I took another bite. “Yeah, that is strange.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “So? Was I hallucinating?”

  I sighed. “No. Does it surprise you so much that I would cry over your death?”

  She blinked a couple times. I imagine she wasn’t contemplating my question so much as letting it sink in that she had actually died last night. And been brought back to life. “No,” she said finally. “I’ve just never seen you even close to tears before.”

  “Well, it’s been a long time since one of my friends almost died.” A long time, because I’d made a point not to get too close to anyone for the last century or so. I guess that plan had gone to shit.

  We sat in silence for a couple minutes. “There’s something going on between you two,” Quinn said. She held her mug up to her mouth, and her gold eyes gleamed bright from behind the steam.

  “Who? Me and Eli?”

  Quinn rolled her eyes. “No, you and Santa Claus.”

  “We’ve been over this before—” I began.

  “Yeah, and you tried to bullshit me about it before, too. You’re so ridiculous!” She pointed a finger at me. “I saw the look on his face when he was holding you. He likes you, too. Just quit being so difficult about it.”

  “So, he’s cute. I mean, hello, he’s an angel. But that’s it.” I leaned back and drank the rest of the milk out of the bowl. “He’s fun to look at. That’s all there is to it.”

  Quinn raised a brow. “And him liking you?”

  “I think it’s just professional respect. I mean, we’ve worked together a ton the past few days.” I shrugged. “He’s made it clear how he feels about my kind. Besides, he likes Commander Hunter.”

  “I detect a tone of jealousy.”

  I laughed. “Not jealousy. I just think she’s a stuck-up bitch. But if that’s what he’s into, whatever. ”

  Quinn took a long drink of her tea. “You’re not fooling me. But I’ll drop it.”

  “Good. It’s a waste of your time to dwell on something that isn’t going to happen.”

  She shook her head and laughed. “Okay, whatever, Zy.”

  I sighed again. “Believe what you want. I’m going to go kick out these shifters, okay? Then I need some real food.” I got up and stretched.

  “Alright. I’ll help after I finish my tea.”

  I shuffled back into the living room. “Rise and shine, shifter creatures. Naptime’s over.” I accentuated my words by nudging a few of them with my foot. A chorus of groans echoed across the room.

  I tossed my dish in the sink and whistled loudly. Malakai came running out of my room, her ears perked up. “Not you, baby doll, the other dogs.” I knew they weren’t hungover, because wolves metabolized alcohol quickly too, though not as fast as I did. Where was Donovan?

  I found him draped over one of the armchairs. “D, wake up. Party’s over. I need to clean up my house and get to work.”

  He murmured something unintelligible before wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me onto his lap, and nuzzling his face into my chest. I slapped his cheek. “Wake the hell up!”

  He opened his eyes and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, Zy.”

  “Oh, I’m sure. Round up your troops and vacate the premises. It’s starting to smell in here.” I got up and started walking around, poking at the sleeping shifters.

  Quinn walked in, put her mug in the kitchen, then rubbed her hands together and sent a blast of yellow light towards our houseguests. Instantly they began to sit up, clapping their hands over their ears. “What’s that sound?” Donovan groaned.

  I couldn’t hear anything, but then I didn’t have animal hearing. I shooed Malakai back into my room so she didn’t walk into Quinn’s spell zone. “Nice having you all. Keep it real. See you next time,” I called as they all staggered for the door.

  Quinn lowered her hands as they filed out into the hall. Donovan was last to go. As I headed over to the door to shut it behind him, he blew me a kiss, then followed his pack out into the hallway. Mrs. Beckham, the little old lady that lived in the apartment across from me, stood holding her little Malti-poo clutched to her chest, her mouth hanging open as they passed. When she saw me, she glowered. I grinned and waved as she went back into her apartment.

  I turned back to face the damage. It could have been worse, I guess. Just a few bottles of whiskey lying about, and some flattened sofa cushions. Quinn pointed at the bottles, then sent them whisking into the recycling bin with her magic. I picked up the sofa cushions. Manually. “I really need to get better with my magic so I can do stuff like that,” I said.

  “Yes, you do. I’ve only told you a couple hundred times before,” she chastised.

  “So, since we’re lamenting my subpar witch skills, can you like magically steam clean the living room or something?” I wrinkled my nose up at the smell.

  “Yeah, it does smell a little.” She put her hands on her hips, surveying the room. “I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll clean the living room if you do some weight lifting.”

  “Say what?”

  She
didn’t answer, but walked out of the room, returning with a five and ten pound weight, and a huge dumbbell. Not in her hands, of course, but floating through the air before her. She set them gently off to the side of the room. “Start with the smallest one. Lift it with your powers. Make sure you can hold it for a long time, and move it all over the place before you move on to the next size.”

  I stared down at the weights. “Um…”

  “Um, what? Just get started. You’ll figure it out.” With that she turned her back on me and started shooting blasts of pink light around the living room, cleaning up the carpet and upholstery.

  “Alright, well, I’ll try it when I get back from feeding.”

  Quinn shot me a look that told me I’d better keep my end of the bargain. I headed out the door and walked a few blocks, keeping to the dark allies and side streets. It took nearly half an hour, but eventually I was noticed by a guy with thoughts darker than the asphalt beneath my feet. Like a hound picking up a game trail, I could feel him before I even saw him standing there. It felt like an electric sizzle as his mind touched mine, and then with a little pull of power I started reeling him in. I could lure him without my supernatural abilities, but it took longer while they watched me and debated their approach, or worse even when they decided to stalk me and take their sweet time with it. I needed to get back to the apartment.

  As he moved towards me, I abruptly felt an enormous surge of hunger. My power lashed out, an uncontrolled wave, and my prey actually lifted off the ground and began to move towards me at a rapid pace. Panic ran along the edge of my ribcage; I was in sight of the street and someone could see us. But a bigger part of me needed to feed, now. I slammed him against the wall of the nearest building and called his soul. I didn’t even put my lips to his mouth as I always had before, I just reached out with my magic and yanked, and it came popping out of him and into me. I barely even had time to see the panic in his eyes before he was dead.

  It took a couple seconds for the hysteria to set in.

  I’d lost control. Again, like the other day when Arianna’s goons had attacked me. Except this time I’d been completely conscious and not about to die. For several moments nothing had existed but my hunger, and it had batted aside two centuries of restraint and willpower like a tiger with a ragdoll. What if someone else had been nearby? Would I have stopped? In just the last few days the walls I had so carefully constructed for centuries were crumbling around me.

  I realized I was shaking all over. My body slumped numbly to the ground and I buried my head between my knees. It was the stress of Alexander, my thirst for revenge, which called to my most basic, instinctual side as an Anam Gatai. Which was now a million times amplified by what he’d done to Anna. And still, even now, I knew I wouldn’t stop hunting him. Couldn’t stop. Even if I became a monster again. Even if it cost me everything.

  The eyes of the man I’d drained stared up at me as I got up and headed back to the apartment. When I stepped through the door, Riley looked up from downward dog or some other yoga pose he was doing. His eyes widened. “What happened? I can smell your panic.”

  Living with a werewolf, I’d long ago gotten used to weird statements like that. I would have smiled another time. But not now. I told him, haltingly and in a strange, mechanical voice that I could hear from a distance, as if I were listening to a recording of myself from another time and place. About the time I had lost control with Olga long ago, as well as what had happened tonight. “That’s why I don’t really use my magic much,” I said, my voice a hoarse whisper.

  Quinn had come in near the end of my confession. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry,” she said, placing her hands on mine. “I think you’re right, it’s the stress from Alexander, it’s eroding your control. And you’re going to hate me for saying it now, but it’s all the more reason we need to practice. I’ll do it with you.”

  Riley looked from Quinn to me and back again. “Actually, I think I might be a bit more help in this matter.”

  Quinn’s lips pursed. “How so?”

  “The core problem here is that Zyan has an inner power she can’t control. It’s like my wolf self, always waiting on the inside, trying to escape, be wild, hunt and destroy. You’ve never experienced that side of your power.” He stood up and patted her on the shoulder. “Magic skills practice will help, too, but it doesn’t tame the inner beast.”

  Quinn unfolded her arms from across her chest. “Perhaps there’s some validity to that. As long as you take practicing control just as seriously.”

  I nodded and then shook my head. “Yes, I’ll practice. But not now. I’m too fried.”

  “You need to push through your fear or it’s just going to build.” Her voice was soothing but firm.

  “Fine, you can start off, but my lessons are next,” Riley said.

  “Don’t worry, everyone can have a piece of the Zyan pie,” I said with a weary sigh. I knew they were right, and I wasn’t going to get out of this. Wearily, I picked up the five-pound weight (with my hands) and brought it to the center of the living room. I set the weight on the floor and sighed and closed my eyes. Magic could be used for good. That night in the alley when I’d suddenly been filled with energy from both the earth and the moon, my magic had saved me.

  “So, the key is focus,” Quinn said. “Obvious, but true. From focus comes control. We’ll start small.” She took a deep breath and we locked eyes. “Call your power and lift the weight.”

  I called my magic and it responded obediently. Breathing deeply, I sat there and felt it tingle through me for a minute. Once I felt comfortable enough with its presence, I turned my focus to the five-pound weight.

  I kind of thought with the strength of my power that the weight would do my bidding easily. I was wrong. I could get it to wiggle a little bit and rise an inch or two off the ground, but then it would thump back down. It occurred to me that though I could tap into the magic easily enough, focusing it was an entirely different matter. Other than the hunt, I usually used it for rote, basic spells that required practically no skills, or when I was fighting, which was kind of a wild, uncontrolled burst of power. There was nothing focused about that. So, for the next hour I worked on moving the weight, Quinn coaching me with never-ending patience. I didn’t make a whole lot of progress. I got to where I could make it rise about six inches instead of two. Big deal.

  “This stuff takes time you know,” Quinn said. “It’s something you have to cultivate.”

  I felt like crawling back into bed after all that mental exercise, but it was 8:30 and I had to meet Eli.

  “I’m off to let the angel torture me,” I said to them. “Riley, you can torture me sometime later.”

  “Call us if you do anything fun,” Riley said as I headed for the door.

  “Aren’t you getting tired of my kind of fun?” I raised my eyebrows at him.

  “Never,” he answered with a grin.

  “Never say never.” I smiled and took off into the night.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “We’re going to arrest Arianna Vega.”

  I stared at Eli for a second, and then I laughed. “Score! When?”

  “Is right now soon enough for you?”

  I made a show of glancing at the time on my cell. “Yeah, I happen to be free. So, what’s the plan?”

  We were sitting in one of the briefing rooms at HR headquarters. Eli had just explained he’d been called into a meeting with the NHTF earlier, and that they had a warrant for Arianna’s arrest since she was harboring a known fugitive.

  “Well, our intel tells us that Arianna has an appointment away from home tonight. We’re going to try to nab her while she’s away. Then, we’ll see if we can pressure her into releasing information about Alexander and your—and Anna.” His eyes darted away from mine at the last part.

  I rolled right on past the awkward mention of my sister. “And if she won’t talk?”

  “Well, then we have to try to bust into her apartment.” He leaned back casually i
n his chair.

  “You do realize her security system is almost as high tech as the HR’s?”

  Eli seemed unperturbed. “We’ve got people with special talents. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Alright then. Let’s roll.” We got up and headed out into the hall, where three dozen or so angelic warriors were waiting for us. They fell into line behind me and Eli, and I felt a little like a military leader heading for war.

  “Where’s the appointment?” I asked as we piled into big black vans.

  “Oh, someplace I’m sure you’ve visited a time or two yourself,” Eli responded, a slight smile on his face.