Chapter 1 #2
The other man, the one not crying in pain and the one not held, turns pale as he stares at me and Six.
We must look terrifying together.
“Should we have some fun?” I direct at Six, whose own eyes have turned bright yellow, revealing his true nature .
When he smiles at me, my heart thumps and my coils slide all over him, amplifying his vicious intentions. I almost pull him down then, onto the stained table and…
There.
My coils erratically fluctuate and my eyes return, racing the ground with a feverish panic.
Five is screaming over the comms, “Get Jasmine off that fucking floor, now!”
Six is crouched beside me and, from our moments together, it’s clear he’s communicating telepathically with his pack. My chest feels tight, my breathing becomes sharp as I start stepping back, away from the crying and bleeding men.
I need silence, I need the dark, I need to lock my powers away into the tightest knot I can form.
But as my eyes dart around the room, a room covered in blood and filled with rage, passion, lust and hunger... my power refuses to listen. It wants more, it wants what ever had just entered this floor.
“Jasmine, you need to breathe,” Six attempts to instruct, like so many times before. I feel his breath upon my throat, feel his hands upon my upper arms. “Remember, what we practised,” he whispers and my eyes close in an attempt to block everything else, “picture it in your mind, pull on one thread at a time.”
You wouldn’t imagine this was the same man who was about to commit a massacre with me, but it is. His calm voice and strong body beside me bring back memories of our training together. I listen, my power listens to him. I imagine the invisible threads; I pull them in, one by one, but the sudden speed at which I am is causing my spine to burn.
When several members of Six’s pack arrive, filling the room, I know I need to leave. I’m still trying to take control back, ignore the sudden tug trying to pull me elsewhere, and I curse as the final strings tangle and lock, refusing to go back into place.
“The doors were already open,” Five states desperately into comms, I can hear her running, panting. “I had no reason not to let them go up! I— fuck, I’m so sorry, please let me—”
Her breathless and panic-laced voice is cut off by Six. He’s shut down our comms. Which means I’ve run out of time.
Beads of sweat run down my back, I take a final breath and attempt to pull the final threads into the knot .
“What happened here?” A dark lull of a voice causes my power to sputter, then it recoils, diving deep inside my chest.
My eyes widen at the strange reaction but I soon realise why. I can feel the difference in the air, the level of power sinking into us, and my power has retreated in response to the threat.
We are no longer the strongest creature here.
“We had three imposters; my team are clearing them away now. We apologise for any disruption, enforcers.” Six steps in, keeping a strong hand upon my shoulder in an attempt to ground me.
Enforcers.
Here.
I can’t breathe.
I somehow manage to nod under Six’s touch but I feel numb.
His hand gently ushers me towards his pack, they all watch me with worried glances as they grab the men, the bleeding one still wailing, before dragging them away. I refuse to turn around and face the darkness I can feel behind me, especially as I feel more approaching.
Six’s pack members quickly filter out of the room, one places an arm around Amelia and someone nudges my shoulder, pulling me with them. I tactfully blend between the larger wolves, keep my face downwards, use the crying man as an additional shield.
There.
I’m nearly out, I can see the emergency exit, just through those doors where I’ll be able to hide in the slip of darkness and be forgotten.
But there’s something.
Look.
It’s a tiny whisper.
Look.
From my mind? From the abyss?
I stand still.
Look.
I glance over my shoulder, wisps of fallen hair partially obscuring my vision. Yet, I find myself locking gazes with dark, intense, and terrifying eyes that didn't need to seek me out—they had already found me.
My power stirs within.
“Come on.” I’m nudged again by one of the wolves, another places a hand on my elbow in a gentle touch, urging me to follow them, and I finally look away .
I step into the comforting darkness of the stairwell, away from the floor, away from those eyes.
And my chest aches.
I barely manage a few comforting words to Amelia, her blood-shot eyes filled with tears, before she’s taken away by the medical team.
And I try, I try really hard to maintain a calm facade even as my heart pounds and my breathing staggers. I rush towards the staff kitchen, ignoring Six as his voice fills the comms, push open the doors and slam my back against the closest wall.
My chest rises and falls in jilted pants.
Deep, heavy breaths continue to shake my body as my legs become numb, I slide down the wall and slump onto the cold floor. I clutch my bare legs tightly, bury my face in my thighs. Each time I close my eyes, dark images emerge—memories of that night.
Heavy rain stings my skin and the smell of burning flesh penetrates the air. Tight, bloody fists pound and pound against the Council District’s barrier, shuddering with each hit but refusing to yield.
“Let me in!” I scream, not knowing why I’m saying it. Hot tears fall down my cheeks, my knees are weak, and I fall, the bite of concrete nipping at my skin.
“Jasmine, where are you?” Five asks down the comms, her voice filled with the agony of worry. “What happened?”
“I’m coming up,” Four adds.
“We’re coming too,” Two responds, assumedly with One.
“Stay on your levels,” I manage to say, but my voice is breathless and lacks its regular surety. I rip the comms device from my ear, nearly crushing the small plastic in my hand.
There’s quiet for a moment, then I hear Five shouting my name.
I can’t respond, the memories are flooding my brain in intense flashes. I would scream if it wouldn’t cause the windows to shatter.
Breathing, that’s what I need to focus on. I take time just breathing, calming my body, my power, going over the situation and reminding myself that I’d locked my power away just in time or they would have captured me then and there.
Creatures of my kind, with my level of power, with my abilities, had to be tested and documented by law. Or, they would be imprisoned and forced back inside the Council District. The place I was found outside: abandoned, bloodied and marked .
“Jasmine,” Six, or rather August now, whispers my name as he crouches down before me.
“You shouldn’t be leaving your floor,” I murmur, lifting my head from my thighs but refusing to meet his eyes.
He ignores me, lowering his head until he catches my eyes with his golden ones. “Nothing will happen, everything is fine.” His large hand gently lands upon my arm and the skin burns where he touches.
I almost believe him.
But then his eyes glow.
His eyes dart over me and a sudden multitude of emotions explode from him.
I push the comms device back into my ear and my heart stutters. “Do you hear me? They’re demanding to speak with Jasmine.”
I’m shaking my head, my hands tighten around my shins, my power coils inside of me.
August steps in to respond, “What exactly did they say, Five? Because I know, damn well, they don’t know her name.” There’s another silence, August’s eyes take in every piece of me.
“‘ Bring us the red head who made the man bleed’, were the exact words,” Five replies. “I even got Marie to come over instead but then… well…”
“Go on,” Six demands.
“They threatened to throw me off the building if I wasted any more of their time.”
And I had no doubt they would.
Interfering with an enforcer... death would be bliss, torture was the normality. These ones were powerful enough that no one would even question it.
Before I have time to think, I’m standing and August is staring down at me like he’s about to make true on all those promises of running away together. I feel his power run through him as his wolf struggles to be contained.
Unlike August, who thrives off his animalistic instincts, I am capable of focusing and altering my emotions. I reach out, seeking what I need and take in any calming essence I can feel within the building. I pull it inside, strengthen my stance and begin to make my way out. August follows tightly behind, now in his wolf form .
Of course, they’re in the fanciest room of the entire floor, reserved purposely for people like them. Before I even reach the doorway, I tense at the power emitting from the room. It sinks into me, burns me.
I’m careful to bury it and, once more, latch onto the calm confidence I was feeding from before entering.
Five is at the door but she doesn’t say a single word, we can’t risk them hearing whatever it is she’s desperate to say. Her lips are tightly pulled together as though she forcing herself to remain silent but her wide eyes scream her concern as she watches me.
I don’t knock, there’s no point announcing my arrival when they know I’m already there.
I nod at her, she hesitates, her slim fingers twitching in the air as she gently shakes her head. We can’t make them wait any more. I can’t put any one else in danger.
I refuse to risk their lives.
Before Five has chance to intervene, a sliver of black uncoils from my arm and pushes the door open for me.
The second it’s ajar, it’s like opening a furnace. I physically feel the contact of their combined powers knock into me and I work extremely hard to maintain my composure as I cross the threshold.
I keep my eyes cast downwards, the way I’d been told when meeting anyone with this much power or status. All the while, I try to ignore the comms going erratic in my ear. Every member of the team is shouting, telling, begging me to leave, go to the safe room, Four saying he’s coming up the stairs.
The door is still open behind me, I feel Five lingering beside the wall and I quickly glance at August, warning him without words to leave, to go and stop Four before he gets himself killed.
“The wolf goes.”
This time, I look up and see him. Truly see him. And I’m locked in place.
‘Eyes were windows to the souls’ , eyes were important, that’s what the books said anyway. The copious number of books I’d read and re-read when I had no one to occupy me. But when there was nothing but an eternal darkness where a colour should be, what did that mean about a person’s soul?
Slicked back, inky-black hair framed those threatening, cat-like eyes, with caramel skin being the only thing to create some colour for this dark creature. The shadows enhance his sharp cheekbones, jaw and nose. Every single part of him is sharp and dark like the edge of an obsidian dagger. He is everything I expected a demon to be... and more.
August emits a small snarl which results in the man beside Dark Eyes to laugh, loudly. The sound is utterly menacing.
I track the laughter and I’m met with severe, glacial blue eyes; piercing even in the darkness. A stark contrast to the previous being which makes my breathcatch.
Intricate and ancient markings decorate his bare, muscular arms, twisting and curving, engulfing every sliver of skin with thin, delicate lines. Edges of the pattern peek out from his unbuttoned shirt, caressing his fair neck and chest. When our gaze meets again, his markings flare in a hum of teal and contrast against his unearthly pale skin. Fae were beautiful creatures but the adjective wasn’t quite enough for him.
He continues to laugh, it’s an unnerving sound, and his sight eventually moves back to August.
The other creature, the only one who hasn’t made a single sound, briefly glances at August with pure disinterest. His dark olive skin allows him to meld deeper into the shadows of the room's corner, where they seem to embrace and cling to him.
Could this be another demon? His gaze quickly flickers back to the dark liquid in the glass he holds, then tilts, as though examining the substance whilst ignoring my presence completely.
My power bristles beneath my skin, seemingly agitated by that very thought.
“Go on now, pup,” Bright Eyes orders. His markings flare then, causing the temperature in the room to rise. “You really don’t want to see what happens when I lose my temper, things get pretty nasty.”
My own power seems intrigued by that idea, loosening from its knot and running beneath my skin— no .
I push it down, back, with extreme force. I quietly hiss at the slight stinging sensation but I keep concentrating on locking it deep in my gut and again, a slicing runs over my spine. The exertion was causing me pain.
Never has it done that before and I stare at the ground, bewildered, trying to comprehend it .
When I look up again, I have two pairs of eyes on me. One light; one dark.
I hesitate before breaking the contact, quickly nodding towards August as I raise my brows in a quick, silent command. But he lingers, bright, yellow eyes holding mine. My heart begins to race at the thought of what he might do, what his refusal would do.
“Go, now,” I command, forcing a snippet of my influence into the words.
August’s eyes lock with mine, he knows I’ve used my powers and I can only imagine what he’s trying to say. I harden my gaze and prepare to speak again, compel him to leave if I must, but his eyes finally drop. His large head nudges gently against my knee where he lingers for a moment. I’m terrified he’s about to stay but he turns, his fur brushing against me with each step.
I don’t, can’t, watch him go.
I hear the door shut.
“So, you’re in charge.” The fae is speaking again, that menacing laugh now a menacing smile which is all teeth and malice.
I just nod, once, because what else can I say? I’m not really ‘in charge’ but in terms of power, I am the strongest. If anyone was equipped to deal with enforcers, it was me. But maybe not these enforcers.
Five often said I had the ‘shittiest luck ever’, I was now starting to believe her.
I feel the demon’s eyes all over me, analysing and searching for something which isn’t there because I’ve painfully, forcefully, locked it away.
“What happened with those men?” he asks, bottomless eyes meeting mine. “Besides your excessive force against a mid-tier transporter causing his hand to shatter.”
That causes Mr Aloof to finally look at me, and I really wish he hadn’t.
Deep maroon eyes. Eyes the colour of a rich wine; penetrating and soulless; eyes clearly belonging to a creature who had survived many lifetimes of chaos; eyes filled with complexity, stare out from the darkness and into mine. Into my own red eyes, my eyes which held no depth, no experience, filled with naivety. I often compared the colour of my eyes to those of white, blind rabbits, my eyes were a pale replica, in every way, to his.
I’d met vampires before, I had many acquaintances, colleagues and customers who were vampires. So why did this one seem so… different?
At some point, I try to avoid his gaze but I finally realise he’s doing something to keep me entranced.
My power pulses in irritation and I’m able force my eyes shut, take a breath, calm my heart rate. When I open them again, I ensure they’re slightly narrowed but staring back. Unfortunately, this causes an awful reaction from him, the slightest tilt of his lips.
“Do not make me repeat myself,” the demon warns, drawing my attention again.
“There were three men impersonating enforcers.” All of their eyes latch onto me when I speak. The air becomes heavy, electrified. I pause, curl my toes, and when I continue, I keep my gaze upon the demon.
“They entered the club using fake badges, reached the highest level and took a member of our staff. They were assaulting her. I warned them to let go, they refused.” I take a breath. “I used the force I believed would return my staff member in the fastest, unharmed, manner.” I quickly glance at them all but they remain silent. “I used the force I believed was necessary to—”
“Lie,” Red Eyes’ low murmur hangs heavy in the silence. I stare at him and my power tenses reflexively, urging me to let it loose, to do something.
Instead of listening, I peer away, reminding myself that his sensitive hearing will be monitoring each palpitation of my heart and note any changes indicating a lie.
I focus and take a calming breath.
I level my eyes with the demon, who seems to be losing his last thread of patience by the severe cut of his jaw, before continuing, “I considered the safety of my staff more important than a fraud with his hands all over an innocent elemental who had no immediate way to defend herself,” I state, realising my tone was sterner than I’d intended it to be.
They don’t move, or speak, as I wait for a response. The fae still holds his irritating smirk but the other two beings are staring at me with stoic expressions. The silence is awkward, painful, punctuating each thump of my heart and it forces me to continue .
“I couldn’t…” I shake my head gently. “I do not tolerate bullies. These men were warned, they would not listen, did not listen, and if harming them meant the safety of my staff… in the short time I had to assess the situation, I did what I deemed necessary.”
Their stubborn reticence persists and I feel my lips pull into a frown. At their inability to respond, the heat of irritation begins to burn deep in my chest, growing with each passing second, until I can no longer control it.
“You would have done less?”
At my outburst, Smirky McFae and Mr much-less-Aloof each raise one of their brows and my heart thumps painfully.
They weren’t expecting that, they weren’t expecting me to ask them a question or my arrogant tone. I mean how dare I? Why did I? What the fuck is wrong with me?
My gaze darts between them in a fervent panic but they give absolutely nothing away. I wonder how I’ll be punished, remembering the tempered glass wall behind them and wondering if I’m about to be thrown through it.
Loud laughter causes me to flinch and I watch, terrified, as the fae slings an arm dramatically over his eyes, his body shaking with heavy guffaws. I keep watching as the delicate, azure lines carved into his skin pulse with each new bout of laughter, the intensity of which only fades as his laughter does.
“Wow, I didn’t realise we were the ones being interrogated here,” he taunts, pretending to catch his breath after his laughing frenzy. He leans forward, his elbows resting upon the top of his thighs, watching me with cruel fascination. “If I answer, what do I get in return?” His eyes glimmer, markings hum and my power flickers.
I quell it. It isn’t time to come out, yet.
If needed, I would go down with a fight, I would not go willingly. I’ll do everything in my power to inflict damage before my end, and the fae’s expression seems to know that, seems to accept that I’m not willing to tremble in fear even when I definitely, totally, should.
I swallow. “I apologise, I—”
“I wouldn’t have warned them,” he interrupts, his depthless ocean eyes locking with mine. “I would have cracked bones, ripped off limbs, skin too, but who knows, it depends on what mood I’m in honestly.” Our gazes stay locked, his smirk widening into a grin as he continues, “ And sometimes, I just…” He snaps his fingers and the dark, intricate markings wrapping around his pale throat flare intensely whilst the sharp sound ricochets around the room.
I instinctively cross my arms over my chest, as if it’ll protect me. “Make them implode,” he finally finishes with a wicked smile.
A smile I’m so focused upon I finally notice what it produces, dimples. Fucking dimples . I’ve never met a creature whose smile could be simultaneously described as horrific and sweet. Until now.
It takes a moment for his words to register, his threat. No, he doesn’t need to threaten me because he knows I’m no match. He’s simply informing me, reminding me of what I’m dealing with, telling me to behave with those glittering eyes and poisonous smile.
I try to strengthen my stance, an attempt to make myself seem taller, feel more in control, whilst his smile remains and eyes continue to stare into me.
The other creatures are not fazed by Dimples’ response, Mr Aloof is back to being… well, aloof and Dark Eyes is still watching me as though waiting for his chance to turn me to ash, but I’m working hard to not let anything slip.
“The badges, where are they?” The low tone tears me away from the psychotic, grinning fae.
“I have one.”
The demon places out a hand, palm up, towards me. I simply stare at it— then him— then his hand again. When he lowers his gaze at me, I know it’s a silent warning to comply.
Tentatively, I step closer, arms still tightly wrapped around myself. Their combined powers become thicker and more uncomfortable with each step I take away from the door, my exit, and towards them. It’s like stepping through a powerful tide on a tight rope, one slip and I’ll fall; drown.
When I feel like I’m close enough, I emit a whisper of power, just enough to slowly hover the pieces into his awaiting palm.