Page 27 of All Your Deadly Truths (The Filthy Duet #2)

Kairhyse

Twenty days later

B uzz. Buzz.

The single piece of ice swirls around in the last swig of my whiskey as the dozen or so buzzes from my phone go unanswered. I know it’s Sydni, trying to track me down, but I can’t be near anyone important right now.

I feel volatile. Nearly thirty days have passed since we arrived here, and not a single one has provided any clue as to where my little demon could be. It’s driving me further into madness, and I’m tempted to just drive back to Sidence and burn the city to the ground.

But that would be stupid. While I know I have the strength to take down a Hause, being plastered all over the news as the country’s ‘Most Wanted’ means their security is probably as tight as Sarah’s lips were.

Her death hasn’t made it to the news, but my face keeps showing up, even here in Ashfer.

I’m grateful that my nondescript appearance keeps me from having to go into hiding.

It was reported that Sydni, a Mundane , is also on the run, and I’m slightly grateful for the turn of events she’s taken.

After her face started popping up on the news, she had to bleach the pink out of her hair.

The day after that, she dyed it dark blue and chopped it just below her shoulders. Even as a Vampire, she wanted to be sure she was unrecognizable.

I shouldn’t be ignoring her… It’s not that I want to, it’s just a need at the moment. I love that butterfly of ours, and the last thing she deserves is for me to be short with her. This entire situation is frustrating, and I feel farther from Xeraphine now than I did when we were back in Sidence.

Fuck , baby… Where are you …

I toss back the rest of the whiskey, the ice clinking against my front teeth as I do. Tapping on the light wood bar top, I grab the bartender’s attention, and she steps over to grab my empty glass.

“Another.”

Buzz. Buzz.

My eyes drift to my phone, face-down right beside my hand. As I move to turn it over, someone slides onto the stool beside me, pulling my attention away from the buzzing texts. He grumbles under his breath, adjusting to the tall barstool with an air of impatience.

“Tequila. Six limes, please.”

Gods almighty, six?! May as well just put lemonade in there, bud.

Running my fingers through my short hair, I rest my elbow on the bar and close my eyes. It’d probably take two bottles of whisky to shut my mind off completely. Halfway through one, I’m barely feeling a buzz.

A low, resonant hum and the soft scrape of glass on wood pulls my attention. My opposite hand instinctively reaches out as a glass stops against my fingers with a gentle clink.

I glance down to see she’s doubled the pour this time. A small mercy. Alaric isn’t hurting for funds, so he can cover the cost of every drop, considering us being here is a waste of fucking time.

Lifting it to my lips, I take a sip just as the male beside me asks, “Rough day?”

I’m really not in the mood to talk. Unless I need something from someone, words are wasted for me. This isn’t my scene. I don’t “chat it up”, not even when I’m drunk.

Buzz. Buzz.

“This yours?” He goes for my phone and I swipe it quickly, tucking it into my pocket. “My bad, just was going to give it to the bartender if it wasn’t.”

There’s a pause, and when I glance at him, he looks like the poster child for “Mundane Male.” White, with short, blond hair neatly framing his face, bright blue eyes, and thin lips curling into a pearly white grin.

He’s dressed casually, but what throws me off is his scent—a mix of strawberries and the unmistakable tang of the open sea. Such an odd combination.

“I’ve had it rough too,” he sighs, and in this moment his drink arrives—six cut up limes just crammed into a glass of tequila. “Women, pfft , so controlling. You know, like, why can’t the beautiful ones not be crazy?”

I groan and shift my gaze away, focusing beyond the bar to the sea.

This place sits just across the road separating the beach from the seaside residences, its open-concept design letting in the crisp, salty air.

Normally, the setting would be perfect for clearing my head, but right now, I regret being here.

What I need is to be boxed in, confined, allowing the alcohol to drown every thought, and to take away the gnawing realization that I’m failing my girl every single second I don’t find her.

“Girl troubles?”

What is it about my demeanor that is drawing this guy to talk to me? I get that I’m the only other patron here, but do I really need to tell him to fuck off?

“Boy troubles?”

My gaze slowly drags back to him, and he raises his glass to me. “I’m not a talker,” is all I say before pushing from the bar and taking my glass with me as I exit.

“Sir, the bill?—”

“I’ll cover it,” the Mundane male that can’t take the hint, says. I don’t turn around, but hear a slap, and then feet rushing.

Is he fucking for real right now?

I’m weaving my way around the empty tables with their chairs situated right on top of them, and straight out onto the patio. If I wanted to talk with someone, I would with Sydni. This guy is going to end up dead if he doesn’t fuck off.

“Come on, bro-to-bro.”

Bro… to… My nose twitches involuntarily and I shake my head.

“You just seem like you have a lot on your mind. I get it, I’ve been out at sea for weeks, and I finally feel?—”

I whirl around just as he’s about to settle himself against the wooden railing beside me. Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, I yank him close, my face inches from his.

“Shut the fuck up. What makes you think I give a fuck about where you have been? Unless you want me to tear your godsdamn throat out, leave… me… alone!”

He keeps that smile plastered on his face, raising his hands, one still gripping his lime with a dash of tequila. “My bad. I get it.” A nervous laugh escapes his lips. “The woman in my life is pretty angry too.”

A disgusted sound comes from my throat and I toss him backward before turning away. Grabbing onto my phone, which buzzes once again, I open up the texts and completely ignore if he leaves or stays.

Sydni

“Rhyse, please come back”

“I know it’s frustrating, but don’t leave me with them”

“I miss her too…”

“I also miss Mister…”

“I hope you know I don’t blame you for anything.”

“Okay…”

“I’m going to the library alone”

“The internet doesn’t have enough on Phiny. I’m hoping some textbooks will give me something”

“Where are you?”

“I may have found something”

“Please stop ignoring me…”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Syd, I’m sorry. No, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m still at the library. Niyla is here with Brice. They followed me here”

“Alaric went out looking for you”

“Can you come here? Please”

“Yes, let me finish what I’m doing.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. See you shortly”

I’m an asshole for leaving Sydni, because the moment I walk through the library, she sprints right up to me and envelops me in a hug. I wet my lips, and berate myself internally for being this way.

I run a hand down her dark, sapphire hair, releasing a sigh through my nose.

“Sorry again.”

“Stop apologizing. I get it.”

“It doesn’t excuse me ignoring you. I’m out of my head, and?—”

Her palm covers my mouth, shutting me up. She doesn’t say anything, instead just gives me a smile, one that speaks volumes. If anyone here understands what I feel, it’s her.

I nod, lifting my gaze as Niyla and Brice approach. My hand slips from behind Syd’s head, and hers moves away from my mouth as she steps back. Her eyes flick toward them, then return to mine—a silent indication that she wants us to step away together.

“Give us a moment.” My tone alone makes it clear it isn’t a request.

She guides me around a few bookshelves, lined with new and old texts alike. This small library smells of aged paper and leather, mingled with a subtle, earthy scent of the wooden shelves themselves. A faint hint of mustiness mixes with the clean, crisp aroma of that new book smell.

As we’re about to turn in to another aisle of books, she holds out her hand to stop me. Then, she grabs a book, pulling it from between two others. It stands out—its leather spine looks freshly re-bound, while the others around it resemble comic books and manga.

“Hands out.” She turns to face me, and I do as she requests.

“What book is this?” I ask as she rests it into one palm, and then opens it up.

“It’s the history of Dylox breeds.” She uses my hands as a makeshift table, and begins turning the pages.

Grateful she’s faced the text right side up in my direction, I watch her shift past a large section about Vampires and Shifters.

I’m certain I saw Werewolves, Sirens, Witches, and something like an Yldarwright, but I’m unsure because she’s flipping so fast.

When she finally stops, she pauses on Section XII, titled ‘Demons’.

“As we know, there are different subsets of Demons: Succubae and Incubi being two of them. There isn’t a lot—Hellhounds, Shadow Fiends, and a few more I’m not too familiar with.” She turns the page just once, and at the top it reads ‘Incubi/Succubae’.

She takes a deep breath. “There are three pages.”

The textbook she has is at least eight hundred pages long, so for Xera’s kind to take up only three of them is insane.

“Most of this we already know about her. Her Amoro, that they’re unkillable, they feed of lifeforces through their gates which only open during an orgasm. However, there are two things we don’t know about. One is the Mark.”

She turns the page, and on it, are a set of gates. She points down under the image, where the text that speaks about the image has written: