Page 23 of Veil of Death and Shadow (Order of Reapers #1)

23

MAREENA

Present Day

T he inside of the bar was a lot larger than I imagined it being. The main room was filled with an inviting energy, given the aggressive welcoming party outside. Cozy wooden tables were scattered throughout the room, mostly filled with lively and laughing faces. It was hard to imagine that they were most likely all demons. They all looked so—human. I also didn’t get why Villette’s tone had been filled with such warning when she mentioned this place. Everything seemed so normal, so jovial.

The lights were dim, which meant the electricity was functioning, there was a group playing pool in the back, and judging by the half-full pitchers at most of the tables, there didn’t seem to be any shortage of booze or beer. It reminded me so much of the time before that my stomach actually ached at the sight of it.

After all the death and chaos in the years since The Undoing, it was easy to forget that some people still lived with this level of comfort and ease. Whoever owned this place must’ve had some premium supplier hook ups.

Like Incendiary, this establishment didn’t seem too badly affected by all the destruction. Maybe it was a demon thing.

They never relied on the same governing structures that humans did, so when those structures collapsed, their lives stayed relatively stable in comparison.

That, and probably the fact that the compounds and human cults weren’t much of a match for a group of demons this large. They didn’t need to worry about the raids or competition for the resources the compounds hoarded.

I scanned every face, holding my breath with the hope that Sora’s would be one of them. That she was fine, that she knew Rex’s ritual was bullshit. That she’d simply been so lost to the lust of a hookup with Lav that she’d forgotten to mention that she might be out for a few days, hanging with her new crush at a vamp bar. But with each face, that thin shred of hope shrank, until it became abundantly clear she wasn’t here. None of the women looked even vaguely familiar, which meant that Lav probably wasn’t in attendance either.

Fear, angry and sharp, speared through my chest at the possibility that I was too late. That maybe she had been here, searching for a cure to death, but one of the vampires, all flirtatious smiles on the outside, had slit open her vein for dinner, then left her alone and dead in an alley somewhere.

As if sensing the shift in my thoughts, the back of Kieran’s hand brushed lightly against mine. The contact was brief, but for some reason, the tenderness of it only made it more difficult to hold my shit together.

“Can I get you something, dear?” a voice called over the loud hum of conversation.

Blinking away the film of tears that was threatening to break free, I turned towards it.

A white, middle-aged woman with a gentle smile stood behind the bar. Her reddish-brown hair was shoulder-length and curly, and her skin was lined with soft wrinkles that highlighted her welcoming expression, stretching it so that it was mapped across her face. When she caught sight of my barely contained tears, those wrinkles shifted just slightly, until her face shone bright with concern. “You okay, hon? Are you here on your own?”

Swallowing, I pulled out the picture of Sora and slid it across the bar, my trembling fingers betraying my attempt at collecting myself. “I’m looking for my friend, Sora. Have you seen her? Tonight, or last night, maybe?”

The woman grabbed the picture and held it in front of her face, studying it for a moment. “Not tonight, no.”

My stomach sank as I sat down on one of the free stools. Where the hell was I supposed to go from here?

The woman set the photo down in front of me. “But she was here last night if memory serves.”

My head shot up. “She was? You recognize her?”

The woman nodded. “Sweet girl. Was surprised to find her here.” Her eyes darted to me; her face pinched with concern. “We don’t get very many humans here. They’re not exactly our targeted clientele, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Do you know who she was here with?” My heart thumped loud and heavy in my chest as the tenuous thread of hope appeared again. “I was told maybe some girl named Lav?”

“Yeah, she was here with Lav.” She grabbed a glass, filled it with water, then set it down in front of me. “Drink this. You look like you’ve been through the ringer. Like you’ve seen a ghost or something. Let me know if you want anything stronger.”

“Thank you.” I ignored the offer. “Is Lav here? Do you know if she came in at all tonight?”

“Hey Marge,” a tall man slapped his hand against the bar top with enough force that the glass of water trembled. “One more pitcher and a round of shots, if you will. And add them to Manny’s tab”

“Quite the big spender tonight, isn’t he?” Marge got to work on the order but met my eyes and then nodded towards the back of the room. “Lav hasn’t been by here tonight, but that’s her brother, Manny, over there in the back.” She squinted, then chuckled. “The one who’s about to lose another fortune at the pool table with that terrible form of his.” She turned to the man who ordered the drinks. “You sure he’s good for the tab tonight? Because I’ll come collecting from you if not.”

“I appreciate it,” I said, then grabbed my picture and slid off the stool, leaving them to their discussion.

Kieran kept close to me as I wound my way through the maze of tables and bodies, ignoring all the curious stares leveled on me as I passed by.

Thorne stayed back by the bar, looking thoroughly bored.

The crowd around the pool table erupted in jeers when Manny did, indeed, miss his shot.

He handed his cue to a girl next to him, his face flushing with heat as his friends ribbed him.

“Excuse me,” I said, squeezing around a seated couple who appeared to be in the awkward stages of a first date, “are you Manny?”

“Who wants to know?” There was an edge to his tone; but when he caught sight of me, his eyes dipping immediately to the deep plunge of my dress, the instinctual snark ebbed into a skeezy appreciation that made my stomach recoil. “Yeah, I’m Manny. What can I do for you?”

Ignoring the whistles and jeers from the two guys next to him, I handed him the picture. “I think my friend was here last night with your sister. Have you seen her since then? Or do you know where she might be?”

The flirtatious grin dried up immediately when he caught sight of Sora’s face.

“No,” he said, voice clipped, “never seen her before. Sorry.”

Kieran scowled. “That smells like a lie.”

“What about your sister? Lav, right?” I pressed. “Can you tell me where I might find her.”

“Don’t have a sister.” He drained the rest of his beer. “Think you’ve been given some bad information.”

One of the guys in the group leaned forward, until his face was just an inch away. He took a deep breath, his green eyes sparkling with teasing interest. “Human.” He shot a look back at Manny. “If you don’t want her, man, you cool if I have a go? Haven’t had a proper warm drink in a minute.”

My heartbeat drummed against my chest at the suggestion, which only seemed to amplify his interest.

“You one of those blood groupies, sweetie?” He grabbed a piece of my hair, letting it slide over his fingers. Then, when it fell back to my shoulder, he pressed his nose to the crook of my neck, his tongue lapping rough and hot against my skin. “What do you say, I promise I’ll be gentle. If that’s how you like it.”

Kieran’s arm wove around my waist, tugging me back. The vampire stumbled forward into the pool table, not expecting my sudden, jerky retreat.

“You need to get out of here, Agony.” Kieran’s voice was hard.

I appreciated his concern, but I wasn’t leaving until this dickhole spilled what he knew about Sora.

“I’m not interested in being your blood bag.” I shoved Kieran’s arm away, then stepped closer to the vampire, hoping like hell my attempt at confidence didn’t come off as brittle as it felt. Then, I stepped around him until I was in front of Manny. “Like I said, I’m trying to find my friend. Please just tell me what you know,” I waved at the table “then I’ll let you get back to losing your pool game.”

The girl in the group barked out a harsh laugh, but Manny’s expression darkened.

Kieran cursed, then stepped between me and Manny, even though we both knew the gesture was futile. He was no more solid than air.

“She’s got balls, you’ve got to give her that, Manny.” The green-eyed vampire edged closer from behind, until I was sandwiched between him and Kieran.

“You don’t belong here,” Manny said, ignoring his friend. “You need to leave. And you and your kind need to stay away from my sister in the meantime.” Well, he’d certainly bailed quickly on the cover story that he didn’t have one. “She gets involved in shit she shouldn’t. I don’t want her near you, or your friend.”

What the hell was he talking about?

His eyes darted to me, then to the front of the bar, like he was the one thinking of leaving.

If I didn’t know any better, it almost looked like he was . . . afraid. But of what? Me?

“There’s your answer,” his green-eyed friend said, still pressed into my back. “But information doesn’t come free here, Princess.” His breath curled over the back of my ear. “You have a lot of nerve coming into a place like this, speaking to us with a tone like that . . . demanding something you haven’t earned.” He grabbed my shoulders and leaned closer, his nose trailing along the column of my neck. Then, in a dark whisper, he added, “But I do like the way bravery smells on you, so I’ll give you another chance at the negotiation table if you promise to play nicely.”

“Chad,” a deep voice called out across the room, and the green-eyed vamp froze, then immediately put some distance between us. “Do you or do you not know the rules of my bar?”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Of course this asshole’s name was Chad.

But when I spun around to clock the owner of the voice, I understood immediately why Chad suddenly looked like he’d swallowed a knife.

A man with swept back, white-blond hair, mismatched eyes, and a presence that oozed control walked towards us. He was dressed in a neatly pressed dress shirt and slacks, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing lean cords of muscle.

I found myself leaning back towards Manny and his friends, as if they offered a small veneer of protection from the ice-hot power emanating from the man.

He was like the embodiment of everything I feared most about demons. It wasn’t the drunken assholes fighting outside that worried me, though I knew they could snap my neck in half a second if they really wanted to. It was someone like the man standing in front of me, who scanned over the faces in the bar as if they were nothing, mere decoration—ants beneath his magnifying glass. The kind of demon who could compel an entire room into silence with one seething look.

Chad stammered out a “Sorry, Claude,” then carved a cartoonishly wide gap between us. “Would never have really taken a bite out of her in here, was just kidding. I swear.” Then, at whatever look Claude leveled him with, Chad dropped his gaze to the ground. “It won’t happen again; you have my word.”

“Your word is only valuable to me when I believe it,” the man, Claude apparently, responded, his tone clipped. His eyes—one dark brown, the other a mottled gold—snagged on me. I flinched under his appraisal. “Who are you and why are you here?”

“Agony,” Kieran pleaded, “let’s get out of here before this gets worse.”

With a deep breath, I steeled myself, then took a step forward. “My name is Mareena.” I held the image in front of him, pleased that my hand only trembled a little. “I’m looking for my friend. And I’m not leaving here until I find out where she is.”

Claude arched his brow, glanced briefly at the picture of Sora, then returned his gaze to me, studying me with a focus so unrelenting that I couldn’t convince my lungs to function properly. At my back, I felt Manny and the rest of his friends scatter away like frightened rats.

“You have a lot of nerve,” Claude said, his voice soft and steady, but somehow more ominous because of how collected it sounded—so sure and confident, like a predator just before he launches on his prey, “talking to me like that, and in my bar no less.” In a motion too quick for me to track, he plucked the picture from my fingers and flung it across the pool table. “Your friend is not here. And, assuming her puppet masters gain better control of her, she won’t be back again. Her kind are not welcome here.”

“Humans, you mean?” I asked, deeply confused. What the hell was he talking about? Puppet masters? Did he mean Lav?

“Humans are free to enter if they wish.” His mouth curled into a snarl. “But I will not entertain a member of the Seven Sons in my establishment. They bring only trouble to our kind. I’ve made myself very clear in the past, but it seems they’ve grown more daring over time. Lav was unaware of your friend’s associations when she brought her here, so I don’t blame her for the poor judgment.” He glanced at Manny. “It was you who escorted the girl out last night, correct?”

“Yes,” Manny answered.

“There you have it,” Claude said, turning back to me, his hands spread in front of him. “She’s not here and she hasn’t been on the premises since last night. Now please take your leave before we have another issue on our hands.”

“The—” I paused, confusion cannibalizing my fear. “What are you talking about? Sora’s not a member of the Seven Sons.”

“The girl in that picture,” he gestured to the photo, “is a member of the House of Wrath. And one who’s made enough enemies of the other Sons that House of Lust ordered a bounty on her head just last week. From what I understand, her capture is fetching quite the reward. She’s lucky no one here recognized her or turned her in before I asked Manny to remove her from the premises. I have no interest in the Sons’ ridiculous spats.”

“No,” I said, shifting my focus back to the vampire in front of me. I assumed he was a vampire anyway. “You’re mistaken.”

“No,” Claude's jaw was tight, every stretched line of his body so clearly screaming threat, that he might as well be wearing a sign with the word ‘dangerous’ plastered across it in neon lights, “I’m not. Your friend’s made quite a name for herself in Wrath’s fighting circuit. They’ve been shuffling through the city all year. She’s taken a surprising number of lives, too,” his head tilted as he took a step closer, “for such a small, unassuming human, that is.”

“You must be thinking of someone else.” I shook my head. “My friend’s not in a cult.” The thought was almost ridiculous enough to make me laugh, but one look from Claude had the humor drying up instantly. “She works in a diner every night and cuts people’s hair. She won’t even kill those giant ass spiders that show up every fall, for fuck’s sake. Trust me,” I added, “I promise you that you’re wrong.”

I felt the rest of the patrons’ eyes on us, the room that had been bustling with good humor when we entered, was now filled with a silent, captive audience—one that watched us with bated breath. I got the feeling people didn’t challenge Claude’s misconceptions very often.

Even Thorne was watching us—looking, for once, almost entertained.

Dickhole probably wanted to watch this vampire drain me dry.

“I saw her there myself,” Claude said, “today, in passing, when I met with one of their representatives to remind them of our agreement. That they’re to stay away from my establishment if they don’t want more trouble.” His eyes narrowed. “They assured me that I wouldn’t find her in this part of town again.”

“You saw her?” I asked, trying to imagine what the hell Sora would be doing all the way over by Wrath. It didn’t make any sense. “I don’t believe you.”

I could understand why she might have come here last night. According to Rex’s list, she needed to exchange blood with a vampire. There were plenty here if Lav wasn’t up for the job.

But what did she need from House of Wrath?

“It’s a dangerous game,” Claude said, a muscle ticking in his jaw, “to come into a vampire’s place of business and call him a liar. It appears that you’re as reckless with your life as your friend is with hers.”

“She’s my best friend.” I met his unflinching stare. “There’s no risk I won’t take to find her.”

He was silent for a moment as he assessed me.

Kieran edged closer; his expression unreadable.

“Very well,” Claude said, “it’s your life to gamble with as you like. But I find that my patience with girls who dress their bad decisions in the guise of courage wears thin these days. So you’ll have to lay down your life somewhere else. As I’ve already made clear, your friend is not here. And if she’s got any sense of self preservation, she won’t show her face near this place again. Now, if you please,” he said, drawing the word out in a way that made it sound more like a threat than a request, “I ask that you take your leave. And don’t let me catch sight of you in my bar again. There’s only so much restraint I can request of my patrons, and if a human walks in, offering her life so flippantly—” he shook his head, shrugging, “I won’t waste my breath protecting it again.”

Jaw clenched, I reached past Claude and grabbed the photo of Sora.

“Understood.” Ignoring every instinct in my body that told me not to turn my back to a predator as deadly as Claude, I made my way to the door.

The bartender, Marge, watched on with concern as she twisted the bar rag in her hands, wringing it within an inch of its life.

There was another woman beside her now. She had long, black hair, and looked to be of East Asian descent. There was something unusual about her, almost otherworldly, and I couldn’t get a read on her age for the life of me. Her dark velvet eyes were absent of the anxiety etched so clearly in Marge’s.

“Don’t worry,” she said, her voice soft and melodic, “his bark is worse than his bite. If you do decide to return to this place in the future, you’ll be under the same protection as everyone else.”

Claude mumbled something incoherent, but I couldn’t bring myself to turn back and look at him.

With a soft smile, she freed Marge’s rag from the woman’s relentless grip, then shot me a look that I couldn’t begin to decipher. She watched my weird walk of shame with unblinking focus—and the way that her gaze shifted to Kieran, then Thorne, then back to me, her mouth pinched in curiosity, I was almost convinced that she could see them, too.

“Fecking hell.” Kieran exhaled sharply, his hands on his knees as he bent over. He shook his head and looked up at me. “That was about two seconds away from a disaster, Agony. Can we please just go home now?”

My attention locked on a black, polished SUV—the only car in the lot. It was rare to see a car so well taken care of these days. This one looked almost new. Pristine. Not a speck of dirt on it. Something told me it belonged to Claude.

“Agony,” Kieran followed my gaze, then stepped in front of me. “What, exactly, is going through that head of yours?”

“Wrath’s compound is a decent trek away. And we won’t make it there tonight if we go on foot.”

“No.” Kieran shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

Sidestepping my guardian angel, I walked over to the car. One quick glance at the bar’s entrance confirmed that we were alone out here. The bouncer must have gone back inside, now that the guys he’d thrown out had either killed each other or found their ways home.

When I grabbed the door handle, it opened with a soft click. Unlocked. Apparently, someone stealing from Claude was such a wild thought that he didn’t even bother with the most basic precautions.

The lights came on overhead, illuminating the fancy dashboard. I took that as a promising sign. The car wanted me to take it.

“Do you even know how to drive one of these?” Kieran asked. He ran a hand aggressively through his hair as his gaze darted between me and the door, like he expected someone to come marching over any second now.

Cars were expensive and, since The Undoing, deeply unreliable. In the Before, Seattle’s public transit system was comprehensive enough that I made do easily with buses, the light rail, and the occasional paid car service when I was particularly desperate. There’d never been an opportunity or reason to learn how to drive.

I slid onto the smooth leather driver seat. There wasn’t a single speck or crumb on the inside. Smelled fairly new, too. Who the hell was this guy?

I turned to Kieran and shrugged. “How hard can it be?”

He groaned. Then his face, if possible, went a few shades even paler than it usually was.

“Seems your new toy has quite the death wish.” Thorne shot Kieran a dark smirk as he stepped through the car door and made himself comfortable in the passenger seat. “At least I’ll get to enjoy watching this disaster of your own creation blow up in your face.”