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Every Last Breath
  • Текст добавлен: 9 октября 2016, 02:28

Текст книги "Every Last Breath"


Автор книги: Jennifer L. Armentrout



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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

“Damn,” muttered Dez. “I’m not sure if we know where they are holed up here to warn them.

Perhaps Geoff knows.”

Nicolai’s expression turned thoughtful. “If not, I have a feeling Abbot might have an idea.”

I cringed inwardly at the mention of Abbot’s name, but forged on. “Like I said, we wanted to warn you all, just in case it tries to go to the compound.” The next part was the worst. “Based on how the Lilin was able to pull off a Sam impersonation so convincingly, I think the Lilin gets the person’s memories when it consumes the soul.”

“That makes sense,” Danika said, glancing back at the males. “The soul is the essence, the very core of our beings. It would hold everything.”

Nicolai exhaled roughly. “If that’s the case, then the Lilin would know a lot.”

“Too much,” Zayne stated, and started to turn, his deep gray wings unfurling. “We need to talk to my father and the others.”

Dez and Nicolai agreed with the statement. Danika lingered, glancing between Roth and me. “Don’t be a stranger,” she said, voice low. “Okay? We all need to work together if we’re going to stop that thing.”

I nodded, feeling weird as I watched them. It was hard to think of a time when Zayne was leaving somewhere, and I wasn’t going with him. As the Wardens turned, I stepped forward. Although deep down I knew I should just let them go—let him go—I couldn’t stop myself. There were too many years between us to simply pretend we were strangers.

“Zayne?” I called out.

He was at the ledge when I spoke his name, and I thought I saw his shoulders bunch, but he knelt, and then launched himself into the sky without looking back.

Without acknowledging me.

eleven

NIGHT HAD FALLEN by the time we made it to the Palisades to meet up with Cayman.

The club under Roth’s apartment building was packed with demons, as well as humans with dark, murky auras surrounding them. There was a bit of churning in my stomach, but nothing substantial.

Sultry music thrummed as the succubi swayed their diamond-covered hips on the stage. They shimmered and twinkled like the Christmas lights strung across the ceiling.

The Christmas lights were ironic, all things considered.

Roth’s hand was firmly wrapped around mine as he led me around the stage. As we passed the darkened corners, I strained to see what was going on in there, but all I could make out was another card game between a female demon and a human who wasn’t looking too hot, if the yellowish tint to his skin was any indication.

One of the dancers in the cage reached out to me, and then giggled wildly when Roth shot her a warning scowl. His hand tightened around mine. “I’m not going to wander off on you,” I said to him.

Last time we’d been there, he’d told me not to dance with anyone, and, well, I ended up dancing with a succubus and an incubus. Sometimes I needed an adult.

His laugh traveled over the music. “I’m really not taking any chances right now.”

“Right now?”

Letting go of my hand, he draped his arm over my shoulders and tucked me against his side as we made our way around the tables. He lowered his head, brushing his lips against my cheek, and then he said into my ear, “Have I told you how much I love those pants?”

“Huh?” Glancing down, I bit back a groan. They were skintight, and I’d practically had to lie down this morning to zip them up. “Your and Cayman’s taste in clothing sucks.”

He chuckled. “I cannot stop staring at your—”

“Eyes?” I suggested helpfully.

“Mmm.” He kissed my earlobe as we finally passed the stage.

“How about my nose?”

“Not quite,” he replied.

I grinned. “You must be checking out my kneecaps then.”

“Closer.” He paused as we neared the bar. “Later, I can give you a hands-on explanation of what I’ve been staring at all day.”

My cheeks flushed. “You’re so helpful.”

“What can I say? You bring out my altruistic side.”

Cayman stepped out from behind the bar before I could respond to that last statement, tossing the white rag on the counter. “Let’s hit the office.”

I’d never seen the office before, so I was curious. Cayman led us through a door just outside the bar that read EMPLOYEES ONLY, but someone had scratched out all the letters except three, leaving LOL behind.

Nice.

The hallway was narrow, lit by actual torches shoved into wall sconces. “Interesting decorating choice,” I said.

Cayman grinned as Roth closed the door behind us, cutting off the hum of music. “My sugar bear, you know we like all flair.”

Roth snorted.

The office was the third door down and the room wasn’t at all like I expected; and to be honest, I wasn’t even sure what I expected, but definitely not this. The space was decked out in pale colors—

robin’s egg blue walls, white desk and empty bookshelf. A fuzzy pink chair was sitting in front of the desk, next to a leopard print recliner. A gray leather couch was against the wall. Above it was a giant framed photo of One Direction.

And it was signed by all the members, even the one who’d left.

My mouth dropped open.

“I did not decorate this office,” Roth explained, seeing the look on my face.

Cayman dropped into a rather normal-looking chair behind the desk and kicked his feet up. “He wanted black. Black walls. Black furniture. Blah. Blah. I like a little color every now and then.”

Keeping my opinion to myself, I shuffled over to the couch and plopped down.

Before we hit the club, I’d sent Stacey a text, explaining what happened while Roth filled Cayman in. In return she sent a lot of exclamation points and a slew of frownie faces over what had happened with Elijah. Though she knew there was absolutely no love lost between him and me, she also knew that seeing Elijah die hadn’t been easy.

And knowing that whatever part of him remained outside of the Lilin was in Hell also didn’t sit well. I hated the dude, but an eternity in Hell, among creatures he’d helped put there, couldn’t be a walk in a park.

Worse yet, now that I saw what had happened with Elijah, I knew what had gone down with Sam, and I felt sick to my core. Somewhere out there was Sam’s body, cold and forgotten, and I already knew where whatever was left of his soul was.

I didn’t want to think about any of that, but I couldn’t stop myself. My thoughts would move to one thing, and then bounce back to Sam, to what had happened to him.

After Roth finished up with Cayman, I jumped up from the couch. “Can we go up to your loft instead of going back to the house?”

“If that’s what you want,” he said, pushing off from where he’d been leaning against the desk. “I doubt the Wardens will come looking for us now. It will be safe.”

Relieved to hear that, I knew I’d be happy to see the loft again. I was feeling a little nostalgic, and I actually preferred it over the massive home in Maryland. Sure, the McMansion had nice features and all, but it was too big and felt cold, formal.

Cayman tweaked my nose as he walked past, heading out the office door. “I’ll send some greasy goodness up.”

My stomach grumbled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten since that morning. We had to take the stairs since the elevators only went down, like down there, and by the time I’d hoofed it all the way to the top floor, I kind of wished I had climbed onto Roth’s back.

The little teacup hounds weren’t guarding the door. “Where are your friends?”

“It’s feeding time,” he said. “You don’t need to know more than that.”

Yikes.

When Roth opened his loft, warm air greeted us. He stepped in, flipping on the lights, and I walked into the middle of the room, looking around.

“Everything looks like it used to,” I said, eyeing the massive king-size bed. Black sheets were smoothed and tucked in, and as I looked toward the door that led up to the rooftop, I saw that not a single speck of dust tarnished the piano. The morbid paintings of fire and dark shadows were still precisely hung.

Roth moved over to the bookshelf full of ancient, boring-looking tomes and kicked off his shoes.

“No one would change it.”

“Someone has been keeping it clean, though.”

“Cayman.”

That made sense, I supposed.

“Did you expect it to look different?” he asked, tugging his shirt off his head.

My mouth dried like it had the first time I stood in his loft and watched him do that. His body was a chiseled piece of art. “I... I guess I did.”

His lashes lowered and his smile was smug, as if he knew I’d been more than momentarily distracted by him. “We have been gone from here for what feels like forever. Hasn’t been that long, though.”

Roth was right.

But so much had changed since then. I had changed, so it was weird to see something untouched from...from before. He brushed his hand over his sternum, down to the belt on his jeans, near the colorful dragon tattoo, and something about the movement hollowed out my stomach. I drew in a stuttered breath. His lashes lifted and heated amber eyes met mine.

The heady tension was there, pulling and tugging us toward one another. It had always been there between us, and it wasn’t weakening.

Three shadows drifted off his body, slowly floating to the floor. They solidified into the form of the kittens. Two of them immediately darted under the bed. The third—Thor—trotted over to me, rubbed up against my leg, purring like a mini engine, and then also disappeared under the bed without drawing my blood, which was an improvement.

“I wonder what they do under there.”

Roth raised one broad shoulder. “I actually don’t want to know.”

“That’s probably a wise choice.” I moved to the bed and sat on the corner, tugging off my boots.

“I’m glad we’re here. I’ve missed this place.”

He smiled slightly as I pulled my feet off the floor, not trusting those damn kittens even if they were playing nice with me right now. “It does have its charm.”

I started to respond, but Roth took a moment to stretch and there was just something about seeing all that muscle and skin working together fluidly that made me lose complete track of my thoughts.

“What something to drink?” he asked.

Mute, I shook my head.

As he lowered his arms, he prowled over to the black mini fridge and pulled out a bottle of water.

Screwing off the cap, he took a healthy drink before placing the bottle down. Then he faced me.

Roth watched me, not like he expected me to break down at any given moment, but simply like he was concerned. He didn’t have to ask as he walked over to me.

“I... I keep thinking that was how...how Sam died,” I admitted. “I’ll think of something else and then he’s back in my mind.”

Roth knelt before me. “Layla—”

“You saw what the Lilin did. He took my... He took Elijah’s soul and then swallowed it. The soul was consumed and it looked like him afterward.” Lifting my gaze, I met Roth’s. “That was how Sam died and that’s why the Lilin was able to look like him. It had to have been so painful.” I squeezed my eyes shut briefly. “But quick, right? It looked like it happened so quick with Elijah.”

He placed his hands on my knees, rubbing gently. “It was quick.”

Shoulders dropping, I shook my head slightly. “I... I’m not really upset about Elijah and he was my father. What does that say about me?”

His expression hardened. “That says nothing about you. That asshole donated sperm. That’s the truth. That is all. He was not your father. You don’t owe him a single moment of sadness. You owe him nothing.”

What he said was true, but... “It’s still hard not to feel guilty.”

He didn’t respond while he studied me closely. “You...you are so human sometimes, Layla, and yet, there is not a drop of human blood in you.”

“Socialization?” I offered, and Roth laughed under his breath. “I’m serious, though. Stacey and...and Sam’s influence on me, I think. They kept me human, and I like that. I like that I feel human.”

“I love that about you.” His response was quick, surprising me.

“Really?”

He nodded solemnly, and I smiled a little. “You don’t owe Elijah anything,” he reinforced. “Please tell me you understand that.”

“I do.” But it was harder to accept it.

His gaze returned to searching. “You’re not planning anything, are you?”

I stilled. “Like what?”

“To get Sam’s soul?” he asked, his eyes latched onto mine. “Don’t try to deny it—I know that’s what you want. I will go and—”

“No. You cannot go down there. I know that if you do, they’ll keep you there,” I interrupted. “You can’t.”

His eyes narrowed. “Someone has been talking to Cayman.”

I didn’t deny that. “I don’t want you to put yourself at risk.”

“Not even for Sam?” he challenged.

Knowing what I planned to do made it hard to say the next word. “No.”

“And I don’t want you to risk it for him,” he replied. “I don’t care if that sounds cruel. You don’t want me to take the chance. I feel the same about you.”

Saying what I did next was even harder than that one word, because I was going to lie and I didn’t want any lies between us, but I had to do something for Sam. There was no way around it and I knew if I told Roth, he would find a way to stop me or he would go with me. Neither of those two things could happen.

“How could I get Sam’s soul?” I asked. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

Roth didn’t reply as he stared at me, and I knew that he had the answers. If Cayman did, he had to, but if Cayman also knew Grim wasn’t in Hell right now, then there was a big chance that Roth was aware of that, too. And I also knew there was a possibility that Roth planned on going to Grim despite the risks.

I would have to get there before he did.

“Do you think you can shift real quick, before Cayman gets here with the food? I want to check out your wings.”

Denying Roth this was just going to delay the inevitable and I was thankful for the change in conversation. I shrugged out of my sweater. There were two small tears in the back from where my wings had ripped through the material earlier, but the tank top underneath felt intact.

Before I changed forms, I tried what Roth had done with the kittens. I skimmed my fingers over the area Bambi rested on and low and behold, she came right off my skin. Neat.

Bambi made her way to Roth first, nudging his thigh with her nose. He reached down, patting her head. Appeased by that, she slithered over to the low-backed chair near the piano. Curling up, she rested her head on the arm and appeared to stare out the window.

Shifting wasn’t hard anymore. I really didn’t even have to concentrate or even stand up. I wanted it to happen and it did. My back tingled and then my wings started coming out, the left wing aching, and when I glanced back at it, it drooped slightly, like baby Izzy’s wings did.

“I think it’s broken,” I told him.

Roth walked over to the bed and sat down, twisting toward me. He checked out the wing. “Does it hurt?”

“It aches,” I admitted. “Not too bad.”

His gaze moved to my face and then back to my wing. “It could’ve been broken, but it looks like it’s already healing.” His fingers brushed along the edge of the feathers, not near the aching part.

While his touch was gentle, it still sent a shudder through me. He immediately pulled his hand back.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No. They’re just supersensitive.”

He arched a brow as he opened his mouth and then closed it. I grinned and said, “I think your mind just went into the gutter.”

“Shortie, my mind exists there.” He winked at my laugh, and then studied my wing for a few more moments. “I think if you can give it a rest for a couple hours, a day tops, you’ll be completely fine.”

I glanced back at the sad, gimpy wing. “Do you think the feathers will fall off?”

“What?”

My cheeks burned. “Maybe I’m going through some kind of metamorphosis and I’m going to shed these feathers.”

He looked like he wanted to laugh, but wisely kissed my bare shoulder instead. Standing from the bed, he walked over to where he’d left his water. “You really hate those things, don’t you?”

“I don’t hate them. Not exactly.” I moved my right wing closer to me and gingerly ran my fingers over the feathers. “I just don’t understand them. So some Upper Level demons have them. I get them, but I’m not an Upper Level demon.”

Roth took a drink, and then placed the bottle down. “You know you feel like an Upper Level demon now, to other Wardens and demons, which could be because you’re maturing. Maybe the feathers are another sign of that maturity. You’re not like the rest of us—or any demon really. You’re a blend, and that makes your growth patterns tough to predict.” He shrugged a shoulder. “That’s the best guess I can come up with, anyway, but I’m a little out of my element here. Most of us were created almost fully formed and the growth that takes others decades to achieve, we finish in a day.”

“Aren’t you just special,” I muttered under my breath.

He grinned. “The feathers and the way you look now when you shift? Yeah, I don’t understand that myself. I get that my response isn’t helpful, but you’re the first who carries both Warden and demon blood—and not just any demon’s blood, but Lilith’s. This could just be a stage of you finally coming into who you truly are.”

At that moment I remembered I hadn’t told him about the other demon in the coffee shop. “When I went to talk to Zayne about...well, you know what, there was an Upper Level demon who came into the shop after he left. You know how demons don’t normally sense me, right? This one did.”

“Upper Level demons are different, Shortie. Some of them probably could sense what you are.”

Huh.

I lifted my gaze to his. “But this demon...it ran from me, Roth.”

Both brows lifted.

“It legit ran from me and it looked scared,” I continued, unsettled by the memory. “I’ve never known an Upper Level demon to run from anything, not even the Wardens.”

“They don’t.” His features tensed. “The only thing an Upper Level would run from would be the Boss, me, or...”

My heart turned over heavily. “Or what?”

Roth’s frown did nothing to deter from his beauty, but it made my stomach drop nonetheless.

“They’d run from one of the originals.”

“Originals?”

He leaned against the wall, eyeing me with lowered lashes. “The originals, Shortie, the ones that are like the Boss. The ones that fell.”

“That fell...?” I whispered to myself, and then it hit me. “You mean, the angels that fell when they were first sent here to help mankind?” When he nodded, my eyes widened. “They have black raven wings?”

His lips did that twitching thing again. “Yeah. So does the Boss.”

Pressure settled on my shoulders. “But that...”

“That doesn’t make sense, I know. That’s why I didn’t bring it up. You’re not one of the original ones to fall. Obviously,” he said, dragging the palm of his hand over his chest. “That’s why I think it’s some kind of stage. You just started shifting, Shortie. You don’t know all that you’re fully capable of.”

I sighed. If this truly was just a phase, then what would be next? Horns along my spine, like some kind of dinosaur. Or maybe scales like Thumper ’s. “So why do you think the demon ran?”

“You smell like me.”

“Uh... Come again?”

The crooked grin reappeared. “My scent is all over you. Other demons would be able to pick it up.”

I resisted the urge to smell myself.

“It’s unique to demons,” he explained. “Our scents, that is. Sort of like a fingerprint. Most demons with a working brain cell would pick up on my scent and head in the opposite direction.”

I was still trying not to smell myself when I remembered that Zayne had once said he could smell Roth on me. Suddenly, what I always smelled around him made sense. “You smell like something sweet and...musky.”

The grin faded and a long moment passed as he eyed me intensely. “You smell like sunlight.”

My breath halted in my throat. I had no idea what sunlight smelled like, but I imagined it was something good and I also thought that was sweet of him to say.

Unexpectedly self-conscious, I reached over, toying with the edge of my right wing. “I feel like a...peacock.”

“Back to birds again, I see.” His expression softened. “Many believe peacocks are beautiful.”

“How about a cockatoo?”

Roth’s eyes lightened. “I’m sure there are some that find them beautiful, also.”

“A pigeon?”

He chuckled. “Layla, nothing about you reminds me of a pigeon.”

“That’s good to know.”

There was a pause. “Have you really looked at yourself since this...this change, while you’re shifted? Except the first time?”

Lowering my gaze, I shook my head.

“You should do that sometime soon. Maybe you’ll see what I see. Maybe you’ll see what everyone else sees,” he said quietly. “Because you’re beautiful, Layla, and while I may say that one word to you a lot, I don’t simply toss it around. And I’ve seen many, many beautiful things. People as beautiful as demons are atrocious. You, by far, shine brighter than any of them. It’s more than what is on the outside. It comes from within you. I’ve seen a lot of things and nothing, nothing comes close to you.”

Oh gosh, as I lifted my gaze, I had my heart and all the stars in the sky in my eyes. That was possibly the loveliest thing anyone had ever said to me, and I knew, in every cell that made up my being, that he believed in those words. They were true to him. Those words were his reality.

Cayman arrived with the food before I could formulate a half-decent response and Roth flipped on the TV. I shifted back, and then we delved into a platter of hamburgers, chicken tenders and fries. He dipped everything in ranch dressing, even his burger, something I hadn’t noticed before.

Afterward I headed to the bathroom to wash my hands and face, figuring I needed to after I basically shoved my face in the plate of the food. When I returned, only the light from the television illuminated the room. The plate was gone and Roth was stretched out on the bed, arms behind his head. His stomach was impossibly flat while I knew I looked like I was carrying a food baby.

Sometimes, and this was one of those moments, I felt completely in over my head when it came to Roth.

Walking over to him, I climbed onto the bed and lay down on my side, facing him. My heart was racing as if I’d run from the bathroom to the bed a dozen or so times.

Roth turned his head and looked at me.

I wiggled closer.

He watched me.

I squirmed even closer, until the front of my body was pressed against the side of his. Without looking up at him, I rested my head on his chest. A moment passed and he lowered his arms.

“The evening didn’t pan out like I’d wanted,” he said.

That’s when I remembered his surprise. “That’s okay.”

“I wanted to take you out on a date,” he went on, almost as if he hadn’t heard me. “Something normal. Dinner. Maybe a movie.”

Lifting my head, I gazed up at him, startled.

His eyes met mine. “I know that sounds crazy with everything going on, but that’s what...that’s what humans do. They go out. Eat food. Watch a movie neither of them is really paying attention to.”

“They do.”

He shifted onto his side and scooted down so he was eye level with me. “I think they spend the whole dinner and movie thinking about the other person, about what’s going to happen when it’s time to leave. Will she invite him in? Will he invite her? Will there be a kiss? More?”

My toes curled. “Is that how you would spend the time?”

“Yes. A hundred percent yes,” he said. “I wanted to give you that date, though. I wanted to give you that night. That was my surprise.”

Moved through and through, I stretched over and kissed him lightly on the lips. “I want that night with you, but I don’t need it. What I need is this—these seconds and minutes with you. That’s what I’ll always need.”

His hand settled on my arm. “You deserve more than that.”

Because he said that, he deserved another kiss. And because he said that, I fell more in love, even when I didn’t know that was possible. “We had dinner tonight and the TV is on now. That’s as good as a movie. And you’ve taken my mind off the bad things and you’ve told me I’m beautiful. You’ve given me the night you wanted.”

He stared at me for a moment, and then his lips curved up at the corners. His smile raced across his face, softening the harsh lines. Several moments passed before he spoke. “Do you know why sometimes I have to move away from you?” he asked, skimming his fingers along my arm.

The statement caught me off guard. “No.”

Roth tracked the movement of his hand with his gaze. “Whenever I’m around you, I always want to be touching you.”

Muscles low in my stomach tightened in response to his admission.

“I’m not even sure if it’s a want or more of a need to do so,” he continued, and his thick lashes lowered, shielding his eyes. His fingers moved along my stomach to my hip. “It’s always been that way, from the first time I saw you. Even then I wanted to touch you. I think it’s because...there is nothing like you where I’m from. Your inherent goodness,” he said, lifting his gaze to mine. “I can feel it. I don’t know, maybe I just like the way your skin feels under my hands. Who knows? I might have a boundaries problem.”

I grinned. “Maybe just a little, but I don’t mind.”

We lay in silence for a few moments and my thoughts began to wander beyond tonight, beyond all our most pressing problems, and into a very unknown future. “I was thinking.”

“Oh no.”

I laughed lightly, and then whatever humor I was feeling vanished. “What are we going to do?” I whispered.

Roth stiffened. “That’s a broad question, Shortie.”

“I know.” Snuggling close, I let the warmth of his body steal inside of me. “But I’m thinking about a decade from now.”

“Hmm. A decade. I like the sound of that.”

“I was thinking about two decades from now. Three. When I’m in my forties and look forty, and you look like you do right now,” I explained, staring into the darkness. “Isn’t that going to be weird?”

“No.”

There wasn’t a moment of hesitation on his end, but I laughed. “Oh come on, at some point, you’re going to look like my son. The Warden blood in me means I age, Roth. I might look younger than I am when I’m older, but I will age and I will—”

“Don’t say it.” His voice was clipped. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

I swallowed as I lifted my head, meeting his bright gaze. “But it is true. How will we be together when I’m ninety and you look eighteen? How—?”

“I don’t know how we’ll make it work, but we will make it work. Somehow. And who knows if you will continue to age? I get that you’ve aged so far, but maybe that will stop. Layla, you’re part demon.

Demons don’t age. Maybe the Warden blood has watered down some aspects, but look what’s happened when you’ve shifted recently. You’re changing and you don’t—we don’t—know all of what that means.”

“You make it sound so easy,” I said after a moment. “Like me looking like your grandmother one day isn’t a big deal.”

“It’s not.” He cupped my cheek. “I don’t think you understand what it means when a demon falls in love, Layla. It doesn’t go away. It doesn’t fade, even if we want it to. We love until death. That’s not just something we say. We love and we love once and it’s forever. No matter what. And that’s a bit twisted if you think about it, but luckily you feel the same way, so this isn’t awkward. You feel me?”

Paimon, the Upper Level demon who’d loved Lilith and who’d kick-started all of this when he tried to free her, had said something similar, but coming from Roth, it was like the first taste of chocolate.

It didn’t wash away all my concerns, but it made me feel better about them, gave me hope that we could face them together, even if I needed a walker when we were facing the problem.

“God, Roth, sometimes...sometimes you’re just perfect.”

I expected a snarky response, like he would normally give me, but his hand traveled up to my cheek, and then slid around the nape of my neck. He guided me so I was nestled against him, my head tucked under his chin and one of his legs curled around mine. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

Roth’s thumb moved idly along the base of my scalp. “It’s moments like these that I need, too.”

twelve

STANDING IN FRONT of the chair, I felt like I’d drunk a case of highly caffeinated drinks. Nervous energy consumed me, and I shifted from one foot to the other, not unlike I’d seen Thumper do at Stacey’s house.

“Can this wait?” I asked, wiping my damp palms along my hips. “I mean, I really think this can wait.”

Grinning like a cat that just cornered a herd of mice, Roth knew better than to get too close to me at the moment, because there was a good chance I might punch him. “Now is as good a time as any, Shortie.”

I wrinkled my nose as I folded my arms across my chest and glanced over to where Cayman was fiddling with a massive contraption that looked like a power tool, but I knew it wasn’t. “Can he really do this?”

Lifting his gaze to me, Cayman smiled. “I can do just about everything, teacup.”

“Not everything,” Roth reminded him.

Cayman shrugged, and then he hit something on the tool he held and a droning hum filled the office in the back of the club. My eyes widened as my muscles stiffened. “Is it...supposed to be that loud?”

Cayman laughed.

“Shortie, you’ve faced down Nightcrawlers and Raver demons, you cannot be that scared of getting a tattoo.”

I whipped around toward Roth. “You’re not the one getting the tattoo, so maybe you should just shut up.”

Behind me, Cayman snorted, and I whirled toward him, shooting him my best death glare. “You, too. Shut it.”

He shut it.

“I have five tats, Shortie, I know what it feels like,” Roth cajoled, his hands raised at his sides. “It’ll sting, but you’re strong. You’ll deal.”

I didn’t want to deal.

I also didn’t want to be acting like such a baby, but I couldn’t look forward to sitting down and allowing someone to dig ink into my body. Why had I thought this was a good idea?

Cayman rose. “Are we going to do this or not? Because I’m sure all of us have stuff to do. Like you all have a Lilin to find and I have deals to broker.”

“It’s up to you, Layla,” Roth said. “If you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to.”

A huge part of me wanted to jump on the out he offered, but getting a familiar tattooed on my skin was the smart thing to do. It would make me stronger and I’d have my own built-in backup system if things got out of hand. So I needed to woman up. “I want to do this.”

Roth smiled at me while Cayman came around the desk. “Then hop up on the chair,” the demon ordered. “And we’ll get this show on the road.”


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