years, once again, that’s where I was headed.
I took a deep breath, then strode into the town, not pausing to look at the various people on the sidewalks. My quick pace—plus the guns holstered on my belt—said I wasn’t in a mood to buy something, get laid, or get robbed, which meant I was of no use to most of Nocturna’s residents. Rafael kept a loose form of law, but “accidents” were common. No surprise, considering everyone here was at least part demon, and the day people with demon blood could completely obey rules would be the day things got snowy in hell.
Not that I’d seen hell to know if it snowed there or not. Only Pureblood demons could travel through the gravitational layers separating the first few realms from each other. Beyond that, only the original race of fallen angels could make it all the way through the rest of them to the mythical Sheol.
That was the story, anyhow. No one I knew had ever met a Fallen and lived to tell about it. Pureblood demons fed off the life essence of partial demons like me, but the Fallen fed on Purebloods, leaving the predators in the unfamiliar position of being prey. In my opinion, it was poetic justice.
“Mara.”
I jerked my head toward the sound of my name, cursing myself for dropping my attention from my surroundings. In Nocturna, that was a good way to end up hurt—or worse.
“Hiya, Billy,” I said in a casual tone, pretending I’d spotted the brawny Halfie all along. “What’s new?”
Billy grinned, showing sparkling white teeth that contrasted with his unkempt appearance and tattered leathers. “I guess what’s new is that you’re
All those farewells would bite me in the ass now. In my defense, I’d meant it at the time. I just hadn’t counted on how heavy my guilt would get if I officially gave up on avenging someone I’d already let down in the worst way.
“Who could live without Bonecrushers’s famous warm beer?” I asked flippantly. “Bars serve it watered down and chilled on the other side. Couldn’t stomach it.”
Billy laughed, his bald head gleaming in the reflection of the lit skulls around him. “Sure. But just in case that’s not the only thing you came for, thought you should know: He’ll be here soon.”
Before I could stop myself, I glanced behind Billy to the open doorway of Bonecrushers. The sensible part of me warned that I could still leave, it wasn’t too late… but my determination slapped that down. One-quarter reckless demon in my genetic makeup was enough to overcome three-fourths of cautious human any day.
“He who?” I asked, as if I didn’t know.
Billy laughed, his deep voice making it sound like his vocal cords were grinding together. “Right. Come on, Mara. I’ll buy you a brew, since you came all the way through a dimension for it.”
His tone said he wasn’t fooled. For a second I hesitated, despair competing with resolve in me. Billy knew I was here for more than Bonecrushers’s heated, throat-searing beer. But did he also know, as Jack did, that I’d been drawn back to Nocturna for more reasons than its darkly alluring ruler?
No need to wonder about that waiting out here. I swept out my hand.
“First round’s on you? Lead the way, my friend.”
Billy shouldered past the crowd by the door and I followed him inside. The open fire pit in the middle of the bar, combined with oil lanterns hung in various locations and the close proximity of numerous people, raised the temperature about twenty degrees from Nocturna’s natural chilliness. I took off my leather jacket, tying it around my waist instead of holding it. It had been several months since I’d needed to shoot anyone, but just in case, I wanted both my hands free.
Several sets of male eyes wandered over me as I passed by. I nodded to the people I recognized and gave cool stares to those I didn’t. Acting coy would have been like begging for those stares to turn into Bonecrushers’s version of being hit on, which frequently consisted of being tongue-kissed before introductions were even exchanged. Shame to end my no-shooting streak on such a silly thing as an unwary flirter.
“Hank,” Billy called out once he reached the bar. “Two brews.”
The band began playing something that might have been Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” The music here tended to be at least a decade behind the times, and the band’s look was something from a former era, too. The musicians were pale even by Nocturna’s standards, with dark circles under their eyes and clothes that hung off bony frames. The lead singer had no microphone, electricity seldom working in this realm, but he managed to keep his voice louder than the chatter or the continual smashes of drink glasses into the fire pit.
“Someone should tell those guys that the ‘heroin chic’ look went out in the nineties,” I noted to Billy when I made it next to him at the bar.
He grinned, handing me a beer the bartender thunked on the counter. “Help ’em out. Bring some new
Better to let him think I was indecisive than tip him off to my goal. “Maybe there won’t be a next time. I like sunshine, cars, electric toothbrushes, iPhones… all those things Nocturna will never have.”
Billy’s smile turned sly. “Some people can’t live without those. But you, Mara, you can’t live without your kind.”
“Except for my stepmother, my family’s all part demon.” I took a swallow from my mug and savored the burn regular beer never left. “I’ve also got Partial friends on the other side, so I’m around lots of my kind.”
“That’s not what I meant. You’re caged there, but here”—Billy raised his beer, indicating our general surroundings—“here we don’t pretend to be so emotionless or controlled. Some Partials can shut that part of themselves off, but you’re not one of them. Neither am I.”
Billy finished his beer in a single gulp, then sent the empty mug sailing into the fire pit. I took another drink, but slower, quietly acknowledging the truth in his words. My part-demon heritage meant I often did feel stifled living in the normal world, but at least there, I didn’t have to worry about Purebloods snatching up younger members of my family.
Or wonder which people around me might be helping them get away with it.
I scanned the faces in the crowd more out of habit than the thought that I could spot a Pureblood demon. Partials, Purebloods… all of us looked the same. Stand us next to humans and you couldn’t spot the supernaturals unless you caught the tiny lights that occasionally appeared in our eyes. Even Fallen were supposed to look normal until their hidden wings made an appearance, but if you saw those, it was already too late to run.
A hand appeared next to my arm, fingers long and masculine, with an ancient knot adorning the index finger and a simple ebony band encircling the thumb. Even if I hadn’t recognized those rings, I’d have known who was behind me for one simple reason—my heart had sped up, like something inside me had known he was close before the rest of me registered it.
“Rafael,” I said, not turning around.
That hand slid along my arm in the lightest of caresses, belying strength that had bested even a Pureblood in a fight. Beside me, Billy inclined his head.
“Rafe,” Billy rumbled. Then he got up and winked at me. “See ya later.”
I didn’t protest Billy’s departure. Acting flustered would have been the same as slapping a sign on my forehead that said Too Damned Interested For My Own Good.
I tipped my mug at the man as he slid into Billy’s seat, admiring Rafael out of the corner of my eye. He moved with a beautiful, controlled fluidity, each gesture full of grace and purpose. His long jacket was open, revealing the trademark black leather vest studded with thin knives over a dark blue shirt. Only Rafael could make post-apocalyptic fashions look sexy.
“You’ve been away a long time,” Rafael said, his voice soft compared to the gaze he lasered on me.
I shrugged, glancing back to the scarred wooden bar instead of his vibrant blue eyes. “Technically, with how it’s always the same endless night here, I haven’t been gone at all—”
“Weeks,” he cut me off as his tone hardened. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
I took another swallow of my beer, but not even supernatural liquor could suppress my shiver as I turned to stare fully at Rafael. His golden-red hair and cobalt eyes accentuated high cheekbones and a face that could make angels weep with jealousy. If it wasn’t for his deadliness, Rafael’s ethereal looks might invite constant challenges to his being ruler. But the three-quarter demon was as ruthless as he was dazzling, enabling him to stay in control of Nocturna for the past two hundred years. He could rule for the next two hundred if he could hold off future challengers. Time froze in Nocturna. Night didn’t turn into day, seasons didn’t change, and even aging stopped—one of the big lures of living in a secondary dimension versus the modernized world.
