Blood be Damned: Magic Wars (Demons of New Chicago Book 3), page 15
“It is. But the outside is glamoured to look like the side of the building.”
“So you can see out . . . but they can’t see in.” While it wasn’t the penthouse view, a few blocks of the concrete and metal jungle that was New Chicago glowed in the purple and orange tints of a sunset. Clothes lines, potted plants, painted graffiti brick walls and all—it felt like home. Imperfect and untraditionally beautiful as it was.
“I wanted to see the storms you create,” he said quietly. Somehow that admission felt more intimate than anything we’d done physically.
My hand lowered away from the glass. Without looking at him, I walked through to the adjoining en suite bath and closet. It was similar to the penthouse he’d been living in for months, but wholly different. While simplistic, there was a warmth that went into this place. Consideration. Small bits of me and my life were layered throughout. Pictures he’d stolen. Furniture taken from my previous apartment that surprisingly hadn’t been stolen or scavenged over the months. He combined the new with the old flawlessly. As if it were always that way.
“How long have you been working on this?” I asked, taking a passing glance at the second bathroom before starting for the third door.
“A while. The renovations took longer than I planned. Everything was put on hold when you went into stasis.”
“And after that?” I prompted, twisting the handle on the third door.
“You needed time.”
His words were punctuated by the sharp intake of breath. My breath. “This one’s empty.”
“For you to decide how you want to use it.”
I mulled that over, closing the door firmly behind me. Not only had Ronan created a home, but he’d also left room to expand. That filled me with trepidation and fear. Fear of the unknown. Of the possibility—because it was a possibility. Everything was now.
Where once my life was hunting witches and scraping by to make ends meet—now it was more.
Slowly, I walked back into the living room. I put my hands in my back pockets and took a daring glance.
I was scared, and I wasn’t too proud to admit it. But how many things in my life had I been scared about? How many fears tied me down? Hadn’t I learned my lesson about running from my fears? Hiding from them?
I admired Nat for knowing what she wanted in life and taking it.
Could I be the same? Could I become the kind of person I actually wanted to be instead of embracing the scraps of myself that had barely survived this life?
“I don’t need an answer this moment—”
“It’ll need adjustments,” I said, before I could talk myself out of it. “The elevator”—I nodded toward it—“there are people in this world that can repel magic, and I need to be prepared for all threats.” I looked around the room, and the more I let myself consider what a life here, with him, would be—the more I could see it. “If this floor isn’t soundproof already, it needs to be. Our room too—and because we have no front door, I want an alarm for when someone comes to this floor.”
“Is this your way of saying yes?”
Dark. Delicious. Dangerous. His voice washed over me, closer than expected. My heart beat wildly, but for the first time in a long time, it beat for something other than fear or rage or panic.
“Yes,” I breathed. “But there are conditions. Things I won’t yield on—”
“Done.”
I whirled around and crossed my arms. He planted his hands at my hips, grasping tightly.
“You don’t even know what they are.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He leaned forward, his thumb stroking that spot on my abdomen where his name was branded. “Whatever you want, consider it done. If you need assistance in the changes, tell Anders and he’ll handle it. We can go over the rest of the details this weekend.”
“I still have my visits with Bree,” I reminded him. “And responsibilities to Nat. Even if I’m not living with her, I did agree to work for her—”
“And you can,” Ronan said. “But at night, you’re mine. Every night.”
I swallowed hard, my fingers flexing and then curling as I fought the erratic urges running through me.
“Sometimes I love your intensity. It matches my own.”
“But?” he asked, his lips curling with amusement.
“All my life I’ve been in fight-or-flight mode. Sometimes it draws that out and makes me want to run,” I admitted. “Not out of fear, per se. But because that’s what I do. When things get too hard, I run. I move on.”
I stared hard at his chest because it was easier than looking at his face.
“I’d chase you,” he said softly. “There would be no moving on. No hiding.”
“I know,” I replied, a slight smile edging my lips. “Why do you think I said yes?”
I tilted my head back and lifted my chin to look him in the eye. As silver as mercury and just as deadly. “This thing between us, it’s literally branded in my skin—and yours. I tried running once, and you found me. I tried fighting, and you didn’t let go. Maybe it’s time I tried something else. Besides, we’re already bonded for eternity—moving in seems like a small thing by comparison.” My lips twisted into a smirk.
His mouth descended on mine. Hot and hard and demanding.
“As much as I want to fuck you right now, I’m fairly certain the witch will find a way to have her payback if we don’t stop delaying her from dinner,” Ronan muttered against my lips. “Make no mistake, tonight, you’re mine.”
My skin heated in anticipation.
Then he stepped through the void, taking me with him.
“It’s about damn time,” Nat said. A spicy scent filled my nostrils. “You can’t have fajitas without peppers. Hand them over.”
I stepped out of Ronan’s grasp to plonk the basket on the counter. She snatched the peppers out and quickly went to work washing and slicing.
Sensing another presence and eyes on me, I turned around.
“Hey, Pip,” a familiar, albeit younger and far deeper voice said from across the living room. I blinked, my brain trying to process what—who I was looking at, sitting between Sasha and Sienna.
Nothing about this person was remotely recognizable. The lush brown shoulder-length hair, hard body, strong jaw—none of it. Except for a pair of sad blue eyes that saw too much. The realization washed over me, and my fingers reached for my hip where there was usually a gun, just not this time.
Anders laughed softly, then patted Sienna’s knee before standing up.
“Glad to see some things haven’t changed—”
Crack.
My fist swung hard and fast, striking him in the jaw once. There was a time I might have hesitated knowing I had demonic strength I couldn’t control.
Given the otherworldly gleam in his eyes, luscious locks, and flawless skin—I’d say he could take it because he sure as shit wasn’t human.
“You’re a fucking supe?”
“Ugh,” he groaned, putting a hand to his jaw and working the muscle. “Really, Pip? Coming from you?” He lifted both eyebrows and a hint of shame touched me that I ignored.
“I thought you were dead,” I snapped. Empathy softened his eyes. “Instead you’re alive and working for him.” I hitched my thumb over my shoulder to the demon at my back.
“I’m not the one that made the decision to not tell you,” he said quietly. My jaw tightened as I glanced over to Ronan who was all too proud of himself for that second.
I hummed. “Why am I not surprised?”
“It wasn’t important. ” Ronan shrugged.
I turned my cheek to stare at him over my shoulder. Lifting an eyebrow, I said, “We’ll be talking about that tonight.”
“Something tells me there won’t be much talking involved,” one of the twins muttered. Sasha it seemed, given Sienna let out a girlish chuckle. I rolled my eyes, but otherwise ignored them.
“So am I to take that to mean she said yes?” Nat asked from the stove.
I whipped around to stare at her. “You knew?”
“Who do you think sold the stuff Señora Rosara was hoarding in there?” She chuckled. “Also who helped him with the renovations? Mind you, I was helping because I didn’t know he had a henchman yet.” She waved the tongs toward Anders.
“Colleague,” he corrected. “Partner. You’ve got a plethora of options there—”
“Colleagues aren’t told what they can and can’t do,” Nathalie said. “That implies equal ground. Have your plans for New Chicago changed, Ronan?”
The peppers sizzled when she tossed them onto a cast iron pan.
“No.”
Nat smiled, enjoying being right, as always. “To answer your question, Piper, yes. I knew. And I’m glad you said yes.” She stole a quick glance at me, eyes dropping a bit, then smiled. “I do hope you’ll continue to help me during the week, though, around your time with Bree. I’ll pay you double since you don’t live here anymore—”
“There’s no need,” I waved her off. “You pay me well as it is. Just know I’ll be here for dinner most nights and we can call it even.”
She chuckled. “You got it.”
We all knew among the four of us that lived here, Nat was the only one who could really cook. Growing up poor, it wasn’t a skill I’d learned, though it was probably my favorite indulgence in this new life. One I wasn’t so ready to give up, even if I was capable of learning—and so was Ronan for that matter.
“Dinner’s ready,” she announced a few seconds later, then promptly began serving people food. We sat at the bar, on the couch, and in Anders’ case—on the floor.
“I haven’t had fajitas in years,” Anders said, speaking first. “Almost three decades. Not since El Paso.” He took another bite of the spicy goodness and hummed.
“El Paso,” I questioned. “Where’s that?”
“Texas,” he and Nat answered at the same time. “It borders Mexico,” he added.
I studied him closely, taking in the more subtle aspects of his new appearance. There was a certain ageless quality about him that a witch or warlock couldn’t get. It was something only the immortal had.
And crossing borders between territories wasn’t what it used to be. Demons and higher-up supes ruled the world—and they didn’t take kindly to passersby.
“You were here before the wars?” I mused, feeling him out for more information.
Anders chuckled. “You could say that.” He nodded toward Ronan. “Not as old as that one, mind you.”
Nat choked on a bite as a laugh forced its way out of her, turning to a coughing fit. She drained half a glass of water and swallowed a few times before muttering, “That’s not saying much.”
Ronan shrugged, unbothered by their jokes. But I pressed on. “How old?”
Anders regarded me for a moment, then set his plate aside. “Old habits die hard, Pip?”
I scoffed, brushing it off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s just a simple question—”
“Knowledge is power,” he said, quoting me. “You studied me and wrote me off when I was human. Now you want to know more. Is it the rage demon or the Witch Hunter asking?”
I placed my half-wrapped fajita taco down and wiped my hands on a towel.
“Come on, guys, it’s just dinner—” Sienna started, trying to smooth over a perceived conflict. It wouldn’t be—if he answered my questions.
“Both,” I replied. “You know me. You studied me. Now you’re working closely with Ronan. I can’t help but be curious about your actual origins when I’m not certain what you are—and if I need to worry about it.”
Ronan’s hand rested on my knee, silently telling me it was okay. I pushed it off, judging for myself.
Anders grinned, an easy smile of amusement so similar to the man I knew before, yet wholly different. It was that difference that filled me with uneasiness.
He reached down to the edge of his sleeves and slowly pulled them up—to reveal brands. Demonic brands.
“I’m not a demon,” he said when he saw the way my eyes narrowed. “But I am part-demon. My father was one and my mother was fae. I exist somewhere in the middle.”
“Only mated demons can have children,” I said.
Beside me, Ronan went tense, but Anders merely nodded. “My mother was turned by my father, then the bond appeared. While supernatural and demon pairings are truly rare—it can happen. I’m the proof of it.” He motioned to himself. “But to answer the real question at hand, no, I’m not a threat. I took the job with Ronan because I want to see a better world than the one I’ve lived in the last thousand years. One where humans and supes can coexist—and I know the only way that will happen is with the right demon in charge. So in that, we’re not so different.”
My chin dipped in acknowledgement. “I had to ask,” I said by way of apology. I was too stubborn to offer a real one. And I wasn’t truly sorry.
Anders grinned as if he knew that. “I’d be disappointed if you hadn’t. You’ve shot me for less.”
Sienna choked and Nat looked between us. “He’s the one from the door at your apartment?” she asked, recalling the early days when we’d first met . . . when she was my captive, newly-turned accomplice.
I nodded. “He showed up at my doorstep unannounced, making threats. You just don’t do that these days unless you want a bullet in you.”
Nat threw her head back and laughed. Sasha shook hers like she had thoughts about that. Ronan chuckled, his fingers finding their way to the back of my neck, threading through the loose strands there. Claws pricked my scalp, making me immediately aware of his proximity.
“I didn’t think you’d actually shoot me,” Anders said. “It was a bitch to lug around that boot for days, pretending I’d broken my foot. Couldn’t have you asking questions, though, when and if you came for him. I knew it was only a matter of time, even when I thought you were human. Too much fire in you to go down that easily.” He shook his head in amusement.
“Well, I guess you won’t make that mistake again.” I shrugged.
“You got a cold woman, Ronan. She always has been,” Anders said with a shake of his head. He was grinning despite the exasperated sound of his voice. “Probably always will be.”
The hand at my neck tightened. I flushed in response to the possessive move.
“I hope so,” Ronan said, his tone even and not betraying the lust I felt rising in him. “A cold woman is strong enough to survive this city.”
Anders nodded along, but I turned, distracted, as the ghost of a voice that I almost thought I’d imagined whispered through my mind.
A cold woman is strong enough to rule it too.
My lips parted. I looked sideways at Ronan in question.
The slight curve of his mouth was my answer.
24
I haphazardly braided my hair back as I waited for the elevator doors to open. My foot tapped with impatience. Anxiousness.
They couldn’t open fast enough.
I came face-to-face with my sister. Her bright eyes narrowed.
“You’re late.”
“I know,” I breathed. “I’m sorry about that. My new . . . accommodations didn’t have my alarm clock. I didn’t think to move it. I’ll rectify that tonight.”
The harshness in her gaze sharpened as if she could see right through what I was saying. But she didn’t call me on it. She simply gestured for me to get in the elevator, then hit the ground floor. It closed shut and the leaden tension grew.
Without Nat as a buffer, I was well and truly flailing.
We exited the elevator in silence. I was halfway out the door when a voice from deep in the shop called out, “Stay away from caffeine.”
I paused, looking over my shoulder. I couldn’t see her buried behind the stacks and shelves of junk. “Do I want to know why?”
A thoughtful kind of silence passed.
“Not yet.”
I blinked, finding her answer out of place, but the caustic voice at my front kept me from lingering. “Three hours and forty-six minutes.”
She was counting off for the twelve minutes I was late. Lovely.
I stepped out of the shop and closed the door behind me. She waited; arms crossed.
“I’ll teach you everything I know. Everything. But you have to promise that you won’t tell Ronan any of my abilities. That you won’t inadvertently tell him, or one of his people. That you won’t communicate them in any way, to another living soul—or dead, if you have that power.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why the secrecy?”
She lifted a shoulder haughtily. “I’m not back to Hell yet, and on the off chance something comes between me and home—I’d rather no one have a heads-up to what I can do.”
The right corner of my mouth turned down. “But you’d show me? The sister you hate?”
She stared at me for a full ten seconds before answering. “Yes.”
“Why—”
“Piper, I’m not going to share every thought or detail of why I want something with you. I’m giving you what you need. I’m also fulfilling our bargain. Isn’t that enough? Can you not just leave some things be?”
I took a slow breath then nodded.
It wasn’t enough. Nothing short of her staying was enough.
But it would have to be because it was all she was offering.
“All right.”
“Swear it.”
“I swear I won’t tell or communicate what you can do to anyone, dead or alive.” This wasn’t a bargain, but a promise. No blood had to be exchanged because it wasn’t an oath. It was just me giving, and my own magic binding.
Bree extended a hand to me, and for some inexplicable reason, I didn’t hesitate.
Maybe I should have after making a promise, all things considered.
But the second our fingers touched, we both disappeared.
“What the—” I flailed, releasing her hand. In an instant, I reappeared. “What the hell, Bree?”
My sister turned corporeal beside me, looking far from amused. Without offering an explanation or asking permission, she grabbed my hand again, locking tight. I disappeared once more, and so did she.
