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The Night They Met

JEDIDIAH

DECEMBER OF LAST YEAR

E xhaling a fat cloud of smoke, I brought the bottle to my lips and let the bourbon annihilate my throat. I fucking loved the burn. Liquor chased away the tension in my spine and jaw. The bass, swallowing up the lyrics of the song, rattled to my bones, almost loud enough to silence the endless war in my mind.

I passed the blunt to Raziel, whose eyes were already slanted and glassy, but he took another haul all the same. Then he muttered something unintelligible and snatched the bottle of bourbon from me, tipping it back while his eyes stayed glued on his brother out on the dance floor. Demitri stood out like a sore thumb—both of them did. Six-foot-tall ginger twins with mischievous eyes and painted on shit-eating grins.

These fuckers saved my life. Before I met them, I’d been nothing more than a boy behind glass.

The usual grin on Raziel’s face waned while he watched his brother. Or rather, while he watched the little female he was grinding all over. Cassiopeia Black. A bitch-faced waterling who had the twins by the balls. She was cute, sure, but not enough to come between brothers.

“Forget about it,” I shouted in his ear over the music. “She’s not worth it.”

Raziel gave me a dark look. The floating strobe lights shifted from blue to red, turning his orange hair the color of blood. “You only say that because you’ve never fucked her.”

I made a face. “Look around, man.” I gestured to the ambience. Lucifer’s Playground was always lit, and tonight was no exception. Colorful, scantily dressed women were all over the club, clustered together in their little groups like patches of wildflowers. Everywhere my eyes touched was blessed with a sequin bodysuit or a leather miniskirt or a translucent temple dress that left little to the imagination. How Raziel was stuck on one girl was beyond me.

My friend waved me off. “I don’t want them.”

I squeezed his shoulder, leaning in closer to his ear as I snatched back the bottle of bourbon with my other hand. Both of us were looking at Demitri and Cassiopeia. Her eyes flicked over to us, like she sensed our attention on her skin. Her lips curved with an impish grin before she looked away.

“Go get her then. She’s obviously into both of you.”

Raziel’s glare sliced to mine. “Seriously?”

I shrugged. “Why else would she be wedging herself between you? Sounds like a twin kink to me. It’s not like you two haven’t shared girls before.”

But he hesitated, even though the spark in his drunken gaze lit with interest. “She’s different.”

I rolled my eyes and took a shot of liquor. “Whatever, man. Go over there and fight Demitri to the death then. Something other than wallowing in self fucking pity.”

“Fuck you, asshole!” Raziel shoved me but his face was playful. I could see his wheels turning now. He took the bottle and finished it off, slamming it down on the table we stood at. He sucked in a sharp breath and steeled himself before stalking through the crowd.

I watched with a grin as he approached Demitri and Cassi on the dance floor. After a moment of an intense three-way stare down, they welcomed him, Cassi’s arms outstretched to pull him into her. Demitri stayed at her back, grinding with her while Raziel leaned down and started kissing her throat.

I shook my head, laughing to myself. They were ridiculous. Perfectly ridiculous.

It was never a dull moment with the twins, which was an entire paradigm shift for me. I grew up isolated. I hardly even remembered my childhood because of how eventless it was. My father had been obsessed with keeping me and my mother ‘safe’—AKA locked up in his estate on his private island drenched in a thousand cloaking spells.

For the first decade of my life, I was a rumor. A secret whispered in back rooms over cups of steaming tea.

My life was a collection of secrets. One of the most pointed ones being that my powers had Emerged early.

My sixteenth birthday had started with an earthquake that nearly collapsed our island. My father was miffed.

It had taken until sunset that night for me to realize that I had done it. I’d been standing out on the bluffs, overlooking the moody ocean, when all the loose rocks nestled in the cliffside began to levitate. They floated up, forming a perfect ring of jagged stones that orbited me. The connection I felt to them was undeniable. Instincts had me grabbing a stick from the ground, pointing it at the rocks. I began to wield them, a smile splitting my face in two as the rush of magic heated my whole body.

It was impossible, even for Aries Vanderbilt, to keep me caged after that.

The twins were the first people I’d met in the city. They remained the only ones I gave two shits about.

So, here I was. Among the rest of my own kind, but never truly in with them. I was the High Lord’s spoiled, entitled, ungrateful son.

When I left, my father had taken that as a betrayal, and spun it into me also walking away from my claim to power. He made sure to get his story out first. The Celestial Media had gone crazy about me. The fallen heir, denouncing his throne. Like I gave a flying fuck. My father didn’t have a throne. His seat of power was an illusion. I wanted nothing to do with his flimsy legacy and his council of phantoms.

The thought had a violent shiver raging down my spine.

One memory I did have from childhood? The presence of those masked freaks.

They had always been there. Lurking. I’d rarely been allowed to leave my room, but when I did, I’d find them in the strangest places. They’d be still as statues, in the corner or off to the side, just standing there. Half the time their long, dark purple cloaks would be camouflaged with the gothic décor. But I’d always noticed them. Sometimes I’d go by, and they wouldn’t move. Other times they’d jolt to attention as if I’d set off a motion sensor. Either way, it was fucking creepy. The bane of my existence. I would have fought for my freedom a lot sooner had the threat of the golden masked phantoms not been there.

The music changed, getting darker with heavier bass. I found myself back at the bar, about to order another bottle, but then I realized that wasn’t what I needed. Drinking always made me remember shit I’d rather keep buried. Some people drank to forget, but it was the opposite for me.

I needed something to make me sharper.

I pulled the small baggy out of my jacket. Opened it, dumped an overly generous pile onto the back of my hand and sniffed. The burn raged through my skull, lighting my brain on fire.

Angeldust, my fucking kryptonite. Secretly my favorite discovery since coming to the city.

It shook me up and tore me from my racing mind, bringing me down into the now moment. The physical world around me, every little demented detail of it. It made everything vibrant and striking and important. I could feel my blood, I could see the music as pink and purple rivers in the air.

It revved me right the fuck up.

The music got louder—or maybe it was the blood roaring in my ears, I couldn’t tell. The gods turned up the volume on life, my senses sharpening into a lethal point. I could hear every fucking heartbeat in this room. My jaw and fists clenched, red strobe lights matching the instincts coming to life inside of me.

I scanned the club with new eyes. The beast inside of me took the reins, glaring out of my skull, licking its hungry jaws. I was ready to fuck or fight or stomp my foot and conjure an earthquake that turned this place to rubble.

“Jedidiah,” a high-pitched voice whined in my left ear, drawing my attention just in time to see Nova de Laurentis stumbling into me. A Luna Academy girl.

She giggled, planting her hands on my chest, pink nails digging in slightly. Long brown hair tumbled down her chest, thick enough to cover one green eye. The bodysuit clinging to her curvy frame matched the color of her skin, making her look naked at first glance. Her flesh was wet with glitter, her eye makeup smudged.

Her posse stood behind her, all of them eyeing me. Giggling, and whispering like ten-year-olds.

“What’s up?” Nova purred. “Share your party favors?”

I sneered down at her. Who did she think she was? Touching me? My hand shot out and I grabbed her by the back of the hair, yanking her head back. She winced excitedly. “I’ll let you snort a line off my cock after you suck it.”

She grinned, not offended in the least. “Okay. Girls bathroom or guys?”

Fuck. I glared down at her. The conniving look in her eyes made me wonder if she was serious or just screwing with me. Either way, gross. She could hardly hold herself up, clearly wasted. I shoved her off of me, shaking my head. I hated easy chicks.

“Weirdo asshole,” she spat, her expression gone sour.

One of her friends grabbed her by the arm, towing her away as she continued to slur insults at me as the lights and sounds swam around me.

I needed to get out of here.

I made my way through the mass of hot, glittery bodies, searching for the twins. I doubted they’d want to leave yet. But fuck, maybe I could convince one of them to come wreak havoc with me somewhere else. We could go trash hotel rooms. Steal a car and rip around. Compel a mortal to rob a bank and watch the mayhem. I was up for anything but this club right now.

The twins must have left with their little waterling delight because I didn’t find them anywhere. I left the club alone, relieved to be out in the fresh night air. Well, the air in the city was hardly ever fresh , but anything was better than that sweltering, murky dungeon. Standing out on the sidewalk, I reached into my jacket and pulled out a pack of smokes, lighting one with vigor, savoring the cold burn of tobacco. I fucking loved smoking. There was something so thrilling about a bad habit, especially knowing that it never had the power to kill me.

Chatters and squeals and laughs from the ten-mile-long line up into Lucifer’s Playground played in the background, sounding like music to my altered brain.

Then the world went quiet.

I looked up instinctively, wondering what force could possibly silence the ever-buzzing Saturday night.

When my eyes landed on her, I fucking shattered. Pieces of me blew into oblivion, leaving me nothing but a ghost, forever stuck in the spot I died.

Never in my life had I seen anything so gorgeous, so mythic. Her narrow, sharp face with dark siren eyes was framed with billowing silver locks. They tumbled down her chest and back like liquid moonlight. Her smooth, tanned skin was alive with spiraling golden tattoos that glittered under the streetlights. The tight black mini dress clung to her dainty feminine curves, showing off every line and divot. My favorite part of the dress was the choker, tight around her slender throat. The fabric opened up over her chest, putting it on full display. The boots she wore gave her an extra six inches, but even then, I would tower over her.

Despite the clothes and the makeup, she didn’t look modern or human. She was a creature of the night, an undeniable primal energy about her that made my groin burn.

Nyx Morningstar.

I’d heard of her. Of course I had. She’d been the talk of the entire Celestial Society the last few months upon her recent Emergence. The unexpected heiress to the notorious Morningstar bloodline.

Her ancestors were famous—the fire wielding, dragon riding witch queens of the Old World.

Some stories claimed that the Morningstars had been wicked, manipulative tyrants. A dark matriarchy of women who cast men out from their temples and only favored feminine magic. Others painted them as benevolent heroines. Warrior queens who had sacrificed the path of Divine Union to focus their immense power on their dragon bonds, in service and protection of the realm.

Which was true? Well, after all the records lost in the Burning Times, only the gods knew.

Today, her lineage was long gone. Besides her mother—and I vaguely remembered hearing she had a sister, too—she was the last of it.

She strutted right past the long line of people that had fallen silent in her presence. Approached the bouncer with ferocious entitlement, eyes locked and loaded. The way she carried herself, and the way everyone stopped to stare in wonder and awe, you’d never know she wasn’t royalty.

Just as the thought roiled through my mind, I scoffed out loud to myself. Yeah fucking right. The girl I was looking at now was a princess through and through.

A bloodline might fall, but if any blood remains, it stays true to its origin. Celestial royalty was an energy, not a title.

She had what my father didn’t.

The bouncer looked her up and down, his face scrunched into a frown. She had her arms crossed, leaning on one leg, sizing him up right back with a dare in her eyes.

He let her in, moving to the side submissively as she grinned and prowled in without a second thought.

I tossed my cigarette to the ground and went in after her.

The way she walked like she owned the place was astounding. A freshly Emerged, first-year starseed strutting into the hottest, most dangerous celestial club alone . I couldn’t think of a single soul that would survive that.

It dawned on me then—that I was following her like some lost puppy or a fucking stalker. Shit, I needed to get my head right. The drugs and alcohol tainted my blood and my judgment.

She wasn’t the only one who was a cut above the rest.

I veered off, losing sight of her as I made my way to the bar. I didn’t need another drink, but it felt wrong having nothing in my hand.

The side of my cheek tingled with heat, a magnetic tug pulling my attention toward the spiral staircase that led up to the second level.

Our eyes locked. I swore the lights flickered.

A charge lit between us. An electric cord from my thrashing heart to hers. Even from across the room, her glare penetrated me to my goddamn soul.

Everyone was looking at her. She was looking at me.

Time slowed down, the chaos of the nightclub dissolving into colorful backdrop to a moment that belonged to only us.

Nyx was paused halfway up the narrow, metal stairs. Her golden tattoos whirled like crazy, glittering under the neon lights. She held my eyes for what could have been seconds or lifetimes. Then she grinned, a grin that beamed a hole through my carefully put-up walls, letting in light for the first time in…for the first time.

A thousand different primal urges warred inside me. I wanted to detonate everyone else here, so it was only me and her. I wanted to chase after her and grab her and tell her she’s mine. But mostly, I wanted to fight her —to see just how powerful the fire scorching through her veins was. I already knew it was world-ending but fuck, I needed to see it for myself. To feel it. To feel how her magic would dance with mine. A battle between us could bring the entire city to its knees. And only once we turned the world to ash and rubble, would I fuck her into oblivion, imprinting myself in her body, her soul.

Despite the raging fucking hysteria in my heart, I’d bide my time.

I couldn’t approach her right away. I let the tension between us marinate. She fluttered around the club, making fake friends, dancing with both girls and guys. Every now and then her eyes would find me, standing on the outskirts, watching. I didn’t give a fuck what I looked like. No one else mattered. I was here for her and her alone, and I let her see that.

Everyone was watching her. People up on the balcony glared down. Some with desire, some with jealously, some with curiosity. She sparked a unique reaction from each person. But none of them got a second glance from her. None but me.

I was coming for her. Her life would never be the same after this.

I waited for a song I liked.

Then I commanded the crowd like my Red Sea as I parted it, making my way to her. Everyone moved out of my way without me even having to glance at them. I towered over them all, literally and figuratively.

One loaded glance from me and the guy she was dancing with dipped out.

Nyx Morningstar turned her face to me and it felt like an arrow through the heart. Up close, she was mesmerizing. An impossible paradox of light and dark. Silver and gold. Moonlit hair, sun-kissed skin, eyes black as night.

My stomach was in freefall as she kept me trapped in her gaze. And while she was damn good at remaining stoic, I could see a rush skittering across her skin. Goosebumps never lied.

Then she turned sharply on her heel and walked away from me.

My face fell.

No fucking way I was letting her go. She didn’t want me to, either. I could feel it—the game.

I stalked after her through the loud, messy crowd. She moved quickly, leading me up the metal stairs to the balcony level. I followed her long, silver hair as she weaved through the mob of people. Everyone—fucking everyone stopped to stare at her. I’d kill them on sight if anyone tried to touch her.

She led me into a nook in a far corner, then turned expectantly, knowing I’d be right there.

She wants me alone.

Well. As alone as we could be in a place like this.

The revelation of that had my groin on fire and my mind rushing with visions and fantasies.

Her dark siren eyes dropped from my face to rove over the rest of me, then back up again. “Jedidiah Vanderbilt. In the flesh.”

My jaw went slack.

If anyone else had the audacity to call me that, I’d split open the fucking earth and send them down to the Seventh Hell. The cruel little creature before me was an exception. Princess privilege and all that.

“Nyx Morningstar.” I let her name slip through my lips like a curse. “Your ancestors must be rolling in their graves seeing you in a place like this.”

She scoffed, eyes sparkling up at me. Trying to act aloof but I could feel her intrigue in the air between us.

“It’s Jedidiah Stone,” I went on. “But you knew that.”

“ Riiiight. The High Lord’s precious golden boy turned treacherous abdicate.” She bit her lip, which was so fucking sexy and so infuriating at the same time. “Are you going to chase me around all night?”

My turn to scoff. I leaned down, moving in closer. She backed away instinctively, tipping her chin up to keep eye contact. Her back hit the black wall and both of us took a sharp breath.

“Yeah. I think I will,” I told her, my voice low and gravelly. I towered over her, caging her in. Her chest rose and fell, her lips parted slightly. Fuck, I wanted to wrap my fingers around that choker. I wanted to feel how fast her pulse was racing.

She almost grinned, but then her dark brows narrowed. Her gaze fell to my hands. “You don’t have your staff?”

“What need do I have for it here?”

“Foolish of you to not be armed.”

I gave her a dark smirk. “I don’t need to be. No one would dare fuck with me. Unless they have a death wish.”

She chuckled, those entrancing obsidian eyes meeting mine once more. “Cocky and presumptuous. Are you sure you don’t want to be king?”

I snorted derisively. “I’m sure.”

Her face became inquisitive as she regarded me. She noted the absolution in my tone, on my face. “Why not?”

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. The shrug I offered was fucking pitiful. But what could I say? I didn’t have any deep, meaningful, satisfying answer. It was just a full body no for me. I wanted nothing to do with my father, his name, or his botched legacy.

Surprisingly, she took my silence as an answer and seemed to…understand. Her sharp features softened slightly. “Well. I guess that means I won’t have to kill you.”

I barked an incredulous laugh. The sudden urge to change the subject to something lighter had me asking, “How are you liking Luna Academy?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I love it. It’s always been my dream to live in an over-glorified chicken coup with a savage pecking order.”

“The girls giving you a hard time?” It wasn’t a surprise. The Celestial Society was all about power. Every girl there would see her as a threat. And threats needed to be dealt with.

Her expression hardened. “They wish.” I didn’t miss the way the shine in her eyes went from playful to malicious. “How do you like your little underground boy scout camp? You must not like it that much. I heard you’re a huge loner.”

I stared down at her, miffed. I didn’t understand how anything I’d said could trigger her to switch into full on bitch mode.

She ducked under my arm without another word, darting away from me so quickly I lost sight of her within seconds.

For a moment, I stood there.

What the fuck just happened?

I should have just let sleeping dogs lie, but of course, I went after her like an idiot. I found her down at the bar, ordering herself a round of shots. I stepped in and paid for them. She let me, but she didn’t look at me.

“Dance with me,” I said, my heart kicking into overdrive.

She ignored me, tipping her head back and she hammered back the shots like a pro.

“Did I really offend you that bad?”

People were watching us. I shot them all a death glare which had them promptly fucking off.

Nyx grimaced through the burn of liquor. Then she looked up at me, a severe glint in the depths of her eyes. The charge between us was almost enough to bring me to my knees. I hung there, waiting for her response in a state of desperation that should have disgusted me.

“You didn’t offend me. You bored me. Move along, mole boy.”

I winced like I’d been slapped. Then my face warped with fury, the weight in my chest going up in smoke. “What the fuck did you just—”

Scorching jaws bit the souls of my feet. A roar of shock and pain escaped me while I jumped instinctively away from the invasive burn. But it followed me, flames ignited over my leather shoes. I snarled a list of colorful profanities as I hopped around, trying to stomp out the fire.

The sound of Nyx Morningstar’s vicious laugh overpowered the music.

She lit my fucking feet on fire!

Laughter erupted from everywhere. My entire body was burning, even as I managed to put the fire out.

“What the fuck!” I growled, charging her. She flicked her wrist, blinding me with fire as she burnt off my eyebrows.

“I said be gone , Mole Boy.”

I was done for.