Martinis with the Devil, Part One Page 7

  “I’m strong enough, Zy. I can handle it.”

  “Get. Out!”

  He got up off the bed wordlessly and slipped back out of the room.

  I lay there in the dark, shivering with the thought of how close I had come to taking Donovan’s soul. His reentry into my life caused complication I didn’t care for. I liked my exes to stay exes. And now two of them were back. One I wanted to kill, and one that was practically serving his life up on a silver platter. Donovan was almost worse, because as much as I would have liked to simply hate him, I didn’t. In fact, I wasn’t sure exactly how I felt about him, and that didn’t make me happy at all. Again, complicated.

  And thinking of the one ex made me think of the other. An image of Alexander’s blue eyes flashed through my head, and I felt a hot wave of anger. And with it came another intense pang of hunger. He was the reason my carefully cultivated control was crumbling. He reminded me of those early days as an Anam Gatai. The still-fresh pain mixed with the thrill of my new powers and the overwhelming need for revenge and the satisfaction of my hunger. When Olga had shown me every trick in her book and I’d had no control over myself. It was raw and intense, and a part of me… missed it.

  Ugh. I was definitely going to have to get a real meal tomorrow before I got back to work.

  Nighttime was usually when I fed, when I could walk the dark alleys until some sexist low life spotted me and thought he’d take advantage of the situation. So, a daytime feed required a bit more work on my end. Luckily there was a “gentleman’s” club not too far from my house, and the men there were usually easy pickings.

  I put on a pair of skin-tight jeans and a low-cut black halter top and headed on down to the fine establishment. When I entered the dim, smoke-filled room I headed straight for the bar. I hadn’t even downed my first martini before a middle-aged suit sidled up next to me.

  “You going on shift soon, honey?”

  I took a quick peek into his eyes. The old saying is right—they really are the window to the soul. And what I saw inside was dark and thick like a salted slug. It wasn’t appetizing in the least. But it kept me alive. “No, I just come for the entertainment,” I said, winking and flashing him a smile. “I party with some of the girls here.”

  “Party?” he asked, his smile broadening into a grin.

  I just smiled coyly in return and let his imagination take it to the next level. Two minutes later he was following me into the bathroom. And he wasted zero seconds in letting his true colors show.

  “I bet you’re a dirty girl,” he whispered, trying to shove me up against the wall. “You like it rough I bet. We’ll see if you can handle what I’ve got.” From within his jacket pocket he pulled a shiny knife which he caressed down my cheek.

  Yep, I knew how to pick ‘em. I spun in a tight circle around him. He blinked as he suddenly realized he was the one against the wall.

  “I’m not nearly as dirty as you.”

  I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his, my hand encircling his throat to pin him in place. Inhaling deeply, I called his life force up from within him and it coursed down my throat like a hot, silky breeze. Five seconds and it was done. His body slumped to the floor and I felt energy fill me, like charging a battery. It was impure though. Nothing like the clean souls Olga and I had fed on those centuries ago.

  After the initial buzz of energy came the inevitable unpleasant aftereffects.

  The look of terror in a young college student’s eyes. Another woman, fistful of brown hair, struggling as she’s pinned to the floor. A rush of power, a thrill of adrenaline. Blood, vivid and thick, coursing down a woman’s cheek. Screams. Someone begging…

  For about sixty seconds the memories and emotions of the person I’d drained would course through me, and I just had to grit my teeth and ride it out. It wasn’t exactly a trip to the park to have the thoughts and feelings of a rapist or murderer floating about in your body. The only thing that made it bearable was knowing I’d taken another sick lowlife off the face of the planet so he couldn’t victimize anyone else. That and knowing I was one baby-step closer to atoning for my past. If that was even possible. Of course, sometimes I wondered if the opposite happened: was I somehow being tainted by these dark souls?

  The soul-meld passed and I let out a deep breath of relief. I stepped over the lifeless body and walked out of the club, erasing the memory of me from the minds of all within. They’d find Mr. Rough later and the coroner would find his cause of death to be a heart attack. And that was the end of the tale, a sad and depressing tale.

  I got back to the apartment just before five. Eli was quite punctual, not that I was expecting anything different from an angel. He watched me curiously as I ate my usual breakfast of Fruit Loops on the sofa. I needed to get the taste of dirty life force out of my mouth. Quinn and Riley were making a racket in the kitchen getting their breakfast, and Malakai was chowing down on her steak.

  “So, just out of curiosity, do angels sleep, or what?” I asked between mouthfuls.

  Eli laughed. “Yeah, we sleep. Though we can go a really long time without it if we need to.”

  “Like how long?” I raised a brow.

  “Weeks.” He took a seat opposite me, sensing it was going to take the crew a while to get geared up.

  “Hey, I went skydiving with an angel once,” Riley piped in as he came around the corner from the kitchen. “No parachute.”

  “Yeah? That’s interesting.” Eli’s tone indicated he didn’t exactly think highly of his fellow heavenly bodies using their flying skills for such dangerous dare-devil stunts. He flicked his eyes back over to me. “My turn for a question. What exactly are the powers of an Anam Gatai?”

  I took a bite of cereal. “Well, immortality unless decapitated, burned or stripped of our innards. Good regenerative capabilities. Strength. A bit of magic, kind of like a witch.”

  “I’ve never met one of your kind before,” he said with a mix of curiosity and a hint of frustration. I bet he didn’t like not being an expert on things.

  “An Anam Gatai is born of pain and heart break, and the need for revenge. There are only females, no males. Our creator turns young girls who experience unrequited love or betrayal like herself.”

  “Interesting,” was all he said after a moment’s pause. “And can you turn others into Anam Gatai?”

  “I’ve never tried.” I locked gazes with him, the cereal churning in my stomach. “I wouldn’t subject anyone else to this life. Subsisting on souls is awful.”

  Eli’s face twisted in surprise. “You eat souls?”

  Somebody clearly hadn’t done their homework. “Yeah. I usually stick to the scum of society. I suppose you could call me a garbage disposal.” I was blunt intentionally—if we were going to work together, I needed him to know who and what I was and get over any sensitivities.

  “Sooo, what’s the plan for today?” Quinn called from the kitchen after a moment of awkward silence.

  “I think we need to stop by Arianna Vega’s house,” I said.

  Riley’s jaw dropped. “You are totally suicidal.”

  Quinn looked equally shocked.

  Eli looked between the two of them. “No, I actually like that idea. Be direct. If Alexander doesn’t know we’re on to him, no doubt he will soon. Let’s put a little pressure on.”

  I eyed Eli with new respect. “Exactly. Alexander’s not dumb. He knows I’m after him. No doubt it was written all over my face last night at Will’s. But if I let him know that I’ve teamed up with the HR, maybe he’ll let something slip.” I put the last spoonful of cereal in my mouth. “Though he’s such a cocky asshole, maybe not. Worth a shot though.”

  We all sat in contemplation for a moment. The doorbell rang. “Donovan probably.” I crossed to the door and opened it.

  Not Donovan.

  A man in a full tux stood before me. Like, cummerbund, lapels, white gloves, the whole nine yards. “Miss Zyan Star?” Yep, he had a British accent.

  “Ms. Zyan
Star, yes,” I responded.

  “This is for you. An invitation from my mistress.” He extended a pristine hand.

  Held delicately within his fingers was a small envelope made of cream-colored paper that looked rather expensive. My name was hand written in fancy calligraphy on the front. I plucked it from his hand.

  “Madam,” the servant said, bowing and retreating back down the hall.

  I turned and shut the door, feeling the eyes of the others heavy upon me. I cut through the red wax seal with my fingernail and pulled out the card within. My eyes grew large as I read it. “No way…”

  “What is it?” asked Riley impatiently.

  I lifted the paper for them to see. “A dinner invitation. From Arianna Vega.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “You’re joking.” Quinn gawked at me.

  “How creepy is this?” Riley said, biting his nails.

  “A coincidence? Or a trap?” Eli asked, to no one in particular.

  I sat back down on the sofa, my head spinning. “Definitely creepy. Coincidence? Doubtful. Trap? Probably. Oooh, what am I going to wear?”

  Quinn rolled her eyes, while Riley looked contemplative. “When is this dinner?” Eli asked.

  I glanced back down at the invitation. “Tonight. How convenient.”

  “Too convenient,” Quinn said, her brow wrinkled.

  “And it implies a certain assumption that you have no social life.” Riley smirked at me.

  “Nah, she just assumes everyone will say yes to her. Especially with the pompous delivery boy and all that.” I got up. “Luckily for her, she was already in my datebook for tonight. I’m gonna go get dressed.”

  “I’ll come help!” Riley and Quinn said simultaneously. I grinned, and Eli even cracked a smile.

  A bit later I was dressed, rather smashingly if I may say so myself, in a black satin dress. Only to the knees of course, so I could fight if I needed to.

  “So, you’re just going to walk in there all alone? What if it’s an ambush?” Quinn asked as we walked back out into the living room.

  “Sorry, dearest, the invitation didn’t have a ‘plus one’.” I gave her a comforting pat on the back.

  “We’ll be on standby right around the corner,” Eli said. “In case you get in a pinch. If you’re not out of there in two hours, we’ll come for you.”

  I figured he didn’t realize how knight-in-shining-armor he sounded. Probably just another angel thing.

  “Even better,” Quinn said, looking excited, “I have an amulet you can wear that will alert me if you get in trouble. Be right back.”

  She ran to her room and emerged with a pair of crystal necklaces strung on thin ribbon. After murmuring a quick spell over them, she strung one around my neck, and the other around hers.

  I looked down at the yellowish crystal hanging at my collarbone. “You know this totally doesn’t go with my outfit.”

  Quinn rolled her eyes. “Get over it, Zy.”

  “How exactly do they work?” My tone was dubious.

  “Yours is imbued with a spell that senses danger to the wearer. If it senses danger, it will magically transmit back to my amulet, which will glow red. Then we’ll bust in and save you.” She smiled gracefully, as if talking about her favorite cookie recipe.

  “Okay, but I’m just going to make a couple adjustments.” I cast a quick glamour that changed the appearance of the crystal from rough-cut stone to a gleaming diamond shape set in silver. Another quick flick of my hand turned the ribbon to a round silver choker. “Much better.”

  Quinn sighed. “What would be better is if you quit focusing on simple glamours and worked on deeper magic. You know, the kind that can actually save your life.”

  I should have known I was going to get another lecture on my use of my powers. I’d been getting that drill for almost a decade.

  “Are you girls done?” Riley quipped. “We need to roll.”

  Quinn cast me one last reproving look. “Yes, we’re done. For now,” she added over her shoulder as we headed for the door.

  Arianna Vega’s penthouse was located in a posh sky rise in downtown Seattle off Union Street. Her building was a veritable hotspot for all the city’s supe royalty, as well as the human politicians, attorneys, and entrepreneurs. While society hadn’t gotten quite comfortable enough yet to allow supes to win any political seats (and in fact it was illegal in some states), the upper echelons were so close knit I’m sure Arianna and others like her had significant influence. Not to mention she could glamour them any time her charm alone didn’t do the trick.

  About half a block from the penthouse we pulled over in an alley and I got out. “Good luck,” Riley said.

  “Thanks.” But I knew luck had nothing to do with it.

  “And be careful,” Quinn added.

  “Well now you’re just asking too much.” I grinned and strode off to the street. Just as I rounded the corner, I saw a flash of wings moving up the side of the nearest building. I guess I had my own personal guardian angel.

  Not one but two doormen stood at the entrance to Arianna’s building. Just in case one of them needed backup? I giggled to myself. This was going to be a totally over-the-top evening. I handed the closest doorman my invitation, which he glanced at imperiously. He looked me up and down as if sizing me up for something. If he had X-ray vision he’d know I had a dagger strapped to each thigh. But apparently he didn’t, because he gave me a weak upturning of the lips that was supposed to pass as a smile and waved me on.

  The cost of the lobby of this place could probably have fed an entire third-world village. Or twenty. It made even the HR’s headquarters look shabby. Gleaming black marble floors and pillars, chandeliers oozing with hand-cut crystals, a frescoed ceiling. Even the air was heavily perfumed, like walking through a field of blooming flowers. I wondered what Arianna had done to make her money. I doubted it was anything legal.

  Two more black-clad doormen stood at the entrance to the elevators, and two more at the exit on the 51st floor. As one of them escorted me to Arianna’s door, I wondered if they doubled as ninja assassins. It just didn’t seem Arianna would have a normal staff at her service. Though they were just humans, I could tell that much. We arrived at the door, which was opened by yet another of Arianna’s staff, who bowed and did a little flourishy thing with his hand.

  It seemed Arianna had a thing for red. An ode to blood? The color was displayed boldly throughout the room that lay before me, from the thick velvety curtains that pooled to the floor, to the gigantic arrangement of flowers in the center of the room, to the expansive Persian rug. Even the candles flickering in the crystal sconces were red.

  Though I’d arrived exactly on time, the room was already filled with people, giving me the impression they’d all been told to arrive at a different time. It was a showcase of Seattle’s elite supernatural families. Most supes chose to affiliate with a group. Vamps and witches had covens, weres and shapeshifters had packs, faeries had intricate hierarchies based on bloodline, and so on and so forth. And I of course was a loner, being a rare type of supe. Anam Gatai weren’t exactly popping up at every corner. We were sort of like vamps. And witches. And incubi and succubi. But we weren’t, and none of them had invited us into the family. Fine by me, since I found most of the groups to be very political, full of power struggles and rules. Plus, I had friends all across the supe world, which was frowned upon if you were a member of a vamp coven or faerie family.

  Vamps were especially exclusive. They thought they were the most powerful of all the supes, and superior to everyone else since they had started Evo. While they had an uneasy truce with the other supes, they didn’t usually hang in the same social circles, The Assembly being the one exception. It was made up of ninety percent vamps, however, and now, here I was, in the viper pit of snooty vamp society. The head of every vamp coven in Seattle was present here tonight. Who I didn’t see was Alexander.

  “Zyan!” came a delighted voice behind me. I turned to see a beamin
g Arianna Vega, wearing a slinky green dress as per her usual style, and cascades of red curls and diamonds. “I’m so glad you could make it!”

  I hated fakey-fake conversation. When both people know they don’t like each other, but pretend anyways to serve whatever ulterior motive. Like now. I swallowed down my disgust and smiled in return. I had a job to do. “Thanks for the invite. Though I am a bit surprised.”

  “Well, it’s just been so long since I’ve seen you, I figured we should chat and catch up. And now that you’re here, we can start dinner. I’ve sat you right next to me.” She said this like she’d just bestowed a royal title upon me. Her green eyes glimmered warmly, like I was her long lost best friend. Did this approach really work with anyone?