21 Shades of Night, page 416
I smile. “Good for you. I’m glad you’re happy.”
I want what Lana and George have…but I can’t. Not as long as I keep running into Lucas. I mean, how can I move on if he’s hiding behind every corner waiting for me? And not to mention he’s demonically unstable. He wants to protect me one minute and kill me the next. What kind of functional relationship begins like that? I don’t want to see Lucas again, not after the compulsion and especially not after tonight. We are polar opposites…now more than ever. We’re like two magnets, desperate to be together, but the universe keeps forcing us apart. I can’t kill Lucas. My heart won’t allow it…but it is my duty to protect Earth and I will gladly take one of his brothers down to save it.
“Do you think I can do it?” I ask Lana. “Do you think I can kill one of the Horsemen?”
“Absolutely.” She leans forward, resting her elbows on the bar. “I’m curious, though. What made you change your mind? You seemed pretty adamant this morning.”
I shrug. “I’m ready to move on…to take back everything he took from me.”
“Hold onto your hats, ladies and gentlemen. Shit is about to get real.”
* * *
I OPEN MY eyes and a headache thrums away in the back of my head, right underneath Lana’s chin. Her long arms are wrapped around my waist and she snores into my hair, blowing hot are against the back of my neck. I frown. How the hell am I going to get out of this? I grab her wrist and move her arm.
I’m not sure how much we drank last night, but I feel like shit and my back hurts from sleeping on this soft sofa bed.
Lifting her arm, I return it to her by dropping it against her side.
Lana’s eyes fly open as I pull away from her and shuffle away. She takes one look at my frown and chuckles tiredly.
“Sorry, V.” Arching her back she stretches her arms above her head with a loud yawn. “I must have fallen asleep.”
“Sleeping with you is like sleeping with a boa-constrictor, you know that, right?”
“Ouch.” She grins. “Do you always treat the women you sleep with, with a treat em’ mean keep em’ keen attitude? Because it’s working.”
I scoff as she slides out of bed, running her fingers through her dark hair before walking toward the kitchen. “What do you want for breakfast?”
I cringe as my stomach turns. The thought of food makes me queasy and I’m seventy percent sure I was still drunk. “Nothing. I gotta’ go. There’s a Horseman I need to kill, remember?”
Lana opens the fridge. “You’re not going anywhere until you put something into your stomach.”
I exhale and toy with the string of the gray sweatpants I’m apparently wearing now. At some point last night, I must have showered. I’m not sure how, but it happened.
I guess I do I need to refuel...all I want to do is go back to sleep. Lucas once told me that drinking before a mission was the most stupid thing an angel can do. That kind of stress on the body is unnecessary, he’d say.
With a sigh, I drag my tired body from the sofa over to the breakfast bar and sit down. From the refrigerator Lana takes out bacon, eggs, bananas, and apples. I watch on in stomach turning horror as she peels two bananas and dices the apple and then puts them in a bowl. She places the bowl on the littered bar between us. “We’ll snack on this until the real food is cooked.”
We chat while she cooked. She told me about how she died. She was in a train crash on her way to work. A scout picked her up and the next thing she knew, she woke up in the Never Dark hospital and they told her what had happened. The very next day she was being trained for assistant work.
“I wanted to be something cool, like a Veltra angel or a fighting angel, like you, but apparently I don’t have that skillset,”
I don’t know what I’d like to do if the fighting position wasn’t available to me. I’m not good at anything else. I suck at organizing definitely wouldn’t describe myself as highly intellectual.
I fight.
I can’t do anything else. This is what I was born to do, to fight demons. Lucas told me that once and I believe him. I have no parents and no siblings. It’s meant to be.
“Do you have a family?” I ask, grabbing a fork.
Lana evenly dishes out the eggs and bacon onto big, ceramic plates and hands one to me.
“I did. I come from a huge Italian family. You?”
“No.”
I shovel bacon and egg into my mouth. “Do you miss them?”
“We can’t. The transition cuts our emotional ties to the human world, remember? I think about them a lot, but I don’t feel sad. I know they would feel sad when they think of me… and I don’t want that, but there’s nothing I can do about it. This is my life now. Helping stuck up field angels with their paperwork.” She winks at me and chews on the corner of a piece of bacon.
I eat breakfast quickly and leave Lana with only one thing on my to-do list...
Kill a Horseman.
* * *
“OUCH!” I HISS, stomping my foot as I pull the last stick out of my hair.
Stepping back, I look at myself naked in the mirror. My bruises have healed up nicely. You can barely tell that I was almost beaten to death at the beginning of the week. Yay for freaky healing powers.
My long red hair clings to my body and I shiver. I hate when wet hair touches my skin. On the plus side, I feel so much better after breakfast and a shower. The gross nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach has vanished and the thrumming headache has ceased.
I’m not completely cured, however. There’s still this unnerving feeling swirling around my stomach, a side effect of going after Famine today.
I can’t fail.
Everything rests on my ability to fight. I was trained by Lucas Cross and I need to prove that I was.
I slip into fresh new uniform and it feels nice against my skin. Unlike my other one, this one isn’t filled with dirt and leaves...yet.
I pull my hair into a ponytail and tighten it and then I flee from my house. When I make it to HQ, Lana is waiting for me on the front steps, Lana, wearing a cute all black business dress with a short white tie.
“Took you long enough,” she calls out as I jog up the stairs. I shrug as we enter HQ. “I grabbed as much information on Famine as I could. I have a list of all his usual hangouts. All the bars and strip clubs he owns and visits regularly. There’s a place called The Lion’s Den he goes there a lot, but I suggest you avoid that place at all costs. It’s usually crawling with demons and it’s owned by War. Your best bets are The Soft Kitty and Big, Busty Babes.”
I sigh. “So my best bet at finding Famine is at strip clubs? Remind me why I’m doing this again?”
“You’re doing this because you feel terrible that I have to put up with Govlonsky and you want to make things right. Now go.” She turns away from me only to spin back around. Lana tosses a tiny headpiece at me and I catch it as it bounces off my chest. “Take your head piece so we can communicate and don’t switch it off like you usually do.”
She disappears into a filing room and I head over to the missions office. Once again, I’m given a mission that only requires the death of two Tracker demons. The receptionist with the pretty golden ringlets glares up at me. “You’re slacking off. These are the same two demons you failed to kill yesterday. Get it done.”
I run my tongue along my front teeth. It takes a lot of strength not to mock her and I deserve a cookie for taking the high road. “I’ll be sure to do it this time.”
“You better.” She hands me the missions tablet and I sign my name along the bottom.
Blondie gives me the forms for the teleportation chamber and, with a superficial smile, I turn away from her.
Tom doesn’t say much when he teleport me today. From what I gather, he’s feeling ill, even the green pills he slammed down didn’t help him. I guess I’m not the only one who hit the bottle hard last night. We teleport with ease and I’m too distracted to full appreciate the serenity of it today.
I step out of the teleportation chamber and walk right up to Gladys, who is still wearing too much purple. She signs my forms and sends me on my way. I do my best to get out of HQ as quickly as I can. The last thing I want is to bump into Janet or speak to Cole Nark. I’m not in the mood for his shit today and he’s definitely going to roast me for not filing a report after my last mission.
I bounce up the stairs, step out into the morning sun and grab the first car I see. I want to have Famine’s head on a platter before lunch. When I pull into the parking lot, I glance at the clock on my dashboard. It’s a few minutes to noon, meaning the strip club will soon open.
Every ten seconds, I look over my shoulder, waiting for Lucas to spring out and attack me. He never does, and by the time twelve p.m. ticks around, I assume he has no idea I’m even here. Good. The last thing I want is for him to show up and ruin the fun.
I slide out of the car and the gravel crunches beneath my boots as the front door opens and a furry pink curtain is put up in the entrance. I glance up at The Soft Kitty’s exterior. It’s a black building, excluding the big, pink cat sign at the front. I don’t know who in their right mind thinks The Soft Kitty is an appropriate name for a strip club. Whoever came up with it needs to be fired ASAP and while we’re at it, get rid of the guy that designed the sign too. A giant pink cat licking its paw and winking with ‘The Soft Kitty’ written on it’s collar is a huge no.
“Classy,” I scoff as I stalk toward the club. I feel dirty walking up to the club. I feel worse entering it, but I pull up my big girl panties, bite my tongue and saunter through the pink, fluffy door.
Like I expected, inside is dark and seedy, and the furniture is worse than I imagined.
Fluffy, comfortable and tacky.
Pink vagina-like booths line the walls and make their way into most of the decor. What the hell was this guy thinking? I stop as music swirls through the air and a girl strolls onto the stage. I stop to watch for a moment, not because I want to see a girl slowly grind to the club beats, but because she has the biggest, fakest boobs I’ve ever seen. How she manages to lug them around is beyond me. She notices me gawking and smiles in my direction. A fierce heat creeps up my throat and pools in my cheeks. I turn to the bar and the man that tends it is at least fifty years old. I wait for him to finish wiping down the bar before engaging him in conversation. I open my mouth as he tosses the towel over his shoulder and eyes me suspiciously.
Behind me, a handful of drunken men stumble in and cheer at the girl with the basketballs strapped to her chest. That’s when I spot the two security guards that wait on either side of the stage.
“What can I get you, love?” the bartender asks, his husky voice saturated by an Irish accent.
“Um, nothing to drink. I—”
“Sorry, we aren’t taking auditions right now, but if you show me what you’re packing underneath that sexy suit of yours, I’ll pass on my recommendation for when we’re hiring.”
I frown. The man looked so sweet with his gray hair and short moustache, but apparently he’s a pig. I’d kick him through the wall, but he’s definitely not a demon and I’d kill him for sure.
I clear my throat. “That’s not what I’m after, either,”
“Then what do you want?”
“I’m looking for the owner, Fa—Mikael. I’m a friend of his.”
The bartender stiffens before grabbing his towel again and starts wiping down the bar. It’s an odd thing for him to do, considering the place just opened and no one has ordered a drink yet. “Mikael doesn’t have friends.”
I rest my elbows on the bar. “Okay, I lied. We aren’t friends. We’re business partners.”
He rolls his brown eyes. “Yeah, okay. Look, if Mikael took you home and didn’t call you again, let it go. You aren’t going to track him down. Although you’re definitely someone I’d call again after a one night stand, Mikael isn’t that kind of guy. He’s probably had ten more of you by now. Sorry to say it, darling.”
I clench my jaw, inhaling through my nose. “Again, I think you’re misunderstanding what I’m after exactly.”
“I don’t think I am.” I snap forward, snatching his collar in my fist. He tries to pull away, but I’m too strong for him. Cocking his arm, he swings at me and I catch it in my hand. He gasps as his eyes go wide.
“A-are you a demon?”
“No, darling,” I smirk. “But I’ll show you just how demonic I can be if you don’t tell me where Mikael is.”
Fear pools in his brown eyes. “I-I don’t know. I swear.”
I analyze his face. Maybe he’s telling the truth. “You’d want to hope that’s the truth because if I find out you’re withholding important information from me, I’m coming back for you.”
I let him go and he falls backwards, cowering into the corner of the bar. I leave The Soft Kitty no closer to Famine. Exhaling, I cross the parking lot and climb back into my black Jeep. I wasted so much time waiting for this godforsaken place to open Famine could be anywhere by now. Maybe Lana can help. I straighten my legs and reach into my pocket for the headpiece. The second I turn it on, her voice is in my ear, nagging.
“Jesus Christ, Violet. I thought you were going to keep it switched on.”
I turn the key in the ignition. “Sorry, I forgot.”
“I chewed my nails down to the bone worrying about you.”
I roll my eyes. “Relax. I’m okay. Famine wasn’t at The Soft Kitty.”
“So go to Big, Busty Babes.”
I drop my head against the head rest and sigh. “I was only inside for five minutes and I’ve already had enough of strip clubs.”
“Well, I’ve been stuck in HQ all day, fetching information for Govlonsky’s mission, so don’t complain because you’re sick of running around different strip joints, staring at nice boobies and sipping martinis.”
“I’m not staring at nice boobies or sipping martinis,” I protest.
“Still. My life sucks and you need to fix it.”
“Fine, I’ll go to the other strip club.” I frown as Lana chews in my ear. “Are you eating?”
“Yes, it’s lunch time. I’m eating an apple.”
My stomach grumbles. I’m so hungry it burns my chest. I pull out of the parking lot and one hundred yards up the road I spot a drive through burger place. I pull in and order a large cheeseburger with fries and Coke. As I drive, I devour my meal and it’s disgustingly satisfying.
* * *
I CAN’T BELIEVE I’m going to say it, but Big, Busty Babes is marginally classier than The Soft Kitty. It isn’t painted black, and that’s a start.
Unlike The Soft Kitty, BBB’s exterior is a subtle mahogany, all brick, and I don’t have to walk through any weird furry curtains to get inside. Compared to The Soft Kitty this club is much nicer inside too. There are no pieces of furniture that resembles any body parts, only sleek black leather couches. The floor glows white as LED strips run underneath. It gives me a headache to be honest, but I still prefer this place more.
I make my way over to the bar that’s manned by a big breasted blonde in a tight black dress that stops just underneath her ass.
“What can I get you?” she asks as I lean on my elbows on the bar.
“I’m looking for someone. Mikael?”
“Mikael Cross? The owner?” She scoffs. “Good luck finding him. He hardly ever comes here. I’m the manager, though, is there something I can help you with?”
“Do you know where I might find him?”
She shrugs. “Nope. Sorry.”
Ugh. I slump onto a barstool. “Give me a shot of tequila, please. No lime. No salt.”
The girl pours me a shot and slides it over. I down it quickly, biting my tongue against the burn. “You want a job? We could use a red head.” She flicks her head to the main stage.
I glance over my shoulder at the three naked blondes grinding chrome poles to the club music. I shake my head. “No thanks, it’s not really my thing.”
She arches a brow. “But catsuits are?”
“Apparently. It’s a long story.” I tap the bar. “I’ll have another one.”
She slides the shot over to me and I reach for it…only my fingers never come into contact with it. I hit the ground hard, knocking the air from my lungs. He, a stranger, picks me up by my throat, holding me just above the ground. I gasp for air and the black-eyed brute smirks at me.
“Is this how you treat all your guests?” I manage to squeeze out. “Can’t be too good for business.”
He squeezes harder, cutting my oxygen off completely. “Why are you looking for him?”
The bartender jumps the bar and runs to the front door, pulling it shut. “I asked you a question, you piece of shit!” He booms, his black eyes flashing red.
Does he know how difficult he's making it for me to speak? I grasp desperately at his hand which only makes him squeeze me tighter. Baring my clenched teeth, I kick him between the legs. I gasp violently as he drops me and I stumble to catch myself.
“Fucking bitch,” he growls, hunching over.
I inhale and my head spins as oxygen floods back into my lungs. I back up against the barstool and hunch over it, waiting for my second wind to hit me. The man recovers quickly and his cornrows bob against his shoulders as he dives at me. At the last second, I grab the wooden bar stool and smash it over his head. It breaks apart in my hands, its sharp snaps cutting into my hands.
Groaning, he stumbles back, clenching his head. When he lowers his hands, I see the thick splinter of wood embedded in his forehead. I wince as he plucks it out and a thick line of blood runs down his face and over his full, dark lips.
Fuck. I catapult over the bar as he snaps forward, roaring like a lion. He grasps the surface of the bar and pulls it clean off. He plows through the bar and I grab the cup hanger above me, I flick my legs up and I swing around to kick him in the face. Unexpectedly, he dips back and then shoots forward, grabbing my legs in his thick, strong hands. He yanks me and my sweaty hands give away. “Ah!” My head cracks against the bar as he tugs me off and dumps me on thes floor. The brute lets go of my calves and I pull myself through his legs, ignoring the head-splitting pain at the back of my skull. I leap to my feet as he turns around and I clench my jaw before pulling my knee to my chest and letting it fly, planting my boot in his nuts again.
