Chapter 11
ELEVEN
Silas
It takes us close to an hour and a half to reach Madison, all the while, Emilia expresses her anxiety about being away from Poppy over the weekend. It’s adorable. She went as far as to make a list of essentials, including the dog’s favorite toys and a couple treats, placing them in a small overnight bag.
She only calms down when Mr. Jankowski sends her the third photo of Poppy, excited to visit with his daughter Katie for the afternoon.
Madison is just like any other city. And, being like any other city, it’s full of unsuspecting mortals living peacefully alongside the supernatural. I catch a few demons walking down the sidewalk with their human mates, or buying groceries from the bodega down the street like there’s nothing more natural in the world.
From what I can tell, most of them are half-demons, like me, which begs the question if I would be happier here instead of trying to fit into a place where I’m not seen as an equal. My only worth comes from the power I can feed the collective through my deals, Emilia’s power, though she’s giving it willingly in exchange.
I find Carly Beth waiting in the lobby after Emilia sent me down so she could change. We stand in companionable silence for a while before she begins to pepper me with questions.
The usual, asking where I grew up and other facts that I could easily pass off without extra explanation. Yes, I grew up in a small town in England. It was nice, quiet. Yes, my parents are still together and we are fairly close. A gentle prodding to make sure I deserve Emilia, which I sure hope I do.
“So, what classes did you two share back in college?” She asks, leaning against the wall, her attention split between me and the text conversation on her phone.
“College? Oh,” I clear my throat, “We first met in Art History, I took it for my Humanities credits.” The words feel foreign to my tongue, but I still deliver them, just as Emilia had instructed on the drive here.
Carly Beth hums in response, possibly in agreement or to refute the claim, I can’t tell.
“Was that before or after you were in the band?”
Shit. “Both.” The answer feels safe enough, but the truth is, as always, more complicated, “I’ve been in a few, none of them lasted past a few local concerts.”
She looks up from her phone and mutters under her breath, “Wow.”
I follow her gaze across the lobby towards the elevators and freeze, if I had a tail, well, you can imagine.
Emilia changed into a black skirt that barely brushes her fingertips, showing off her shapely legs with a low cut red top, her long hair falling over her shoulders. It’s a stark difference from the jeans and t-shirt she’s been wearing most of the day.
“We ready?” She asks, looking between us, then down at her phone, “It’s getting close to 8:30. The band should be out at 9.”
Carly Beth walks over, threading her arm through Emilia’s, “I’m ready.” She looks back at me, “How about you, Silas?”
There’s a twinkle in her eye, as to say, isn’t she beautiful? She is so much that sometimes it hurts to look at her knowing that I cannot touch, not yet. Hopefully soon.
“Let’s go.” I say with a nod.
From the hotel, it doesn’t take long to find the general flow of the foot traffic naturally directing us towards the large dance hall. The building itself spans an entire city block, two stories’ worth of entertainment, though the entire second floor looks to be closed for renovations.
The venue is split down the center with a large bar that stretches along the length of the space, on either side, there’s a dedicated stage, one side is gearing up for the show while the other features a DJ with a crowd of people dancing in six fairly straight rows and off to the side there’s a large padded area with a mechanical bull in the center.
“This place is amazing.” Emilia says, looking back at me, the neon lights paint her a celestial being, “The bar. Oh my god, look, they have five bartenders. No, six. I can’t imagine having so much help.”
Recorded music blares from the speakers as the crowd lurks around the stage, watching as the silhouettes rush across to bring in equipment.
“If you want, I can grab you something while you find a spot up close.” I gesture toward the bar.
Emilia looks back at me, her brows creasing, “Yeah, uh, just a beer for me. Anything they have on tap.”
“I’ll have the same. You’re such an angel, Silas.” Carly Beth says over her shoulder, grabbing Emilia’s hand and leading her towards the stage.
A laugh catches in my throat, if only you knew.
It’s hard to keep my gaze from trailing down to Emilia’s round ass and thighs as she walks away. I’m not the only one who notices. She remains blissfully unaware of the way she turns heads everywhere she goes. It makes me even more lucky to have her attention.
There’s more weight to her lingering glances now that we’re far from Moonstone Ridge, like she’s broken free from the small town’s spell.
I lean against the edge of the bar and hold out my hand to flag down a bartender as I fish my credit card out of my pocket, making a mental note of where they are in the crowd.
“What can I get you?” The deep voice asks.
“Just two beers, whatever import you have on tap.” I glance over to see two charcoal eyes studying me. A pride demon, with rich red skin and two twisting horns jutting out from his head. The small tag on his navy polo reads, “Joe”.
“Don’t see many wolves these days.” He flashes a fanged smile, taking my card, “Want me to start a tab?”
“Yeah.” The word hangs on my lips as I turn towards him, “What do you mean by that? Not seeing many wolves.”
He shrugs, looking towards the concert. I feel a pang in my chest at the thought of him picking Emilia out, though it would be easy, she’s covered in my scent and I in hers.
“I didn’t mean any disrespect.” He holds up his hands before passing my card back, “You’re one of the good guys. Protecting and bringing change, making a difference. I thought the entire line of demonic do-gooders died off long ago. From what my friends say, it’s hell back there. Everyone climbing over each other to feed the beast, so to speak.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Couple centuries, the nightlife keeps me sated. Not as well as if I was an incubus, but I do okay.” He nods, angling the plastic cup under the tap and filling it, then moving onto the other, “It’s a sweet deal. You have your own life, no overlords or demonic royalty to bow down to.” He places the two beers in front of me.
“Thanks.”
He inclines his head and leaves to serve another customer.
I grab the drinks, holding them up as I walk across the floor towards the pull of Emilia’s magic. What Joe said sticks in my mind.
“Silas!” Carly Beth waves me down, crossing the few feet to grab a beer out of my hands, and taking a hearty swig off of the top.
“Alright.” I raise my brows, holding out the other for Emilia.
She takes it gingerly, giving me a soft smile, “Thank you.”
The lights dim, and the crowd creeps closer, bodies pressing inwards closer to the metal barricade. Upbeat pop music plays and hollers erupt from all around us, Carly Beth joining in singing at the top of her lungs.
Emilia looks around, taking a step back and crashing against my chest. She looks at me over her shoulder, then mouths an apology as the sea of people churns in time with the music.
I step forward and cage her in from behind to create a barrier from the rest of the crowd. I lean down, letting my lips brush against the shell of her ear, “I’ve got you, little witch.”
Goosebumps break out across her bare shoulders and neck, visible through the bright lights and smoke. I nearly forget to breathe as she leans back, her weight steady against my chest. She grabs hold of my hand, her fingertips chilled from the cold beer, and moves it further across her soft stomach.
I honor her silent request to hold her close. The rhythmic music thrumming through my body, chasing away my heartbeat, everything, until all I can feel is her warmth and her soft skin under my fingertips, wrapped in her scent.
This is the most we’ve touched in days, since our nightly ritual began. The experience has been spiritual, guiding her to the brink without even touching her, time after time, then watching her break.
Whatever we have isn’t fleeting. This little witch has buried herself deep in my heart, with her gentle touch, her magic, her soul breathing new life into my being. All I can hope is that she feels a fraction of what I do.
As if in my thoughts, she places her free hand over mine, intertwining our fingers as she sings out the chorus, tucking herself closer against my chest. With that, I am lost. Untethered. The world falls away, and there is only me and Emilia.
I don’t want to do as much as move or breathe, in fear that I might startle her. I need to hold on to this moment for as long as I can.
An eternity, if the Gods allow.