3. Alex
Chapter 3
Alex
The pentagram demon killed five other families besides Alex’s, sixteen years ago. Many years after he’d been adopted into the guild, he’d looked them up and read the old news articles about them. Authorities had suspected it was a serial killer, but after the sixth one, the kills stopped, and eventually it became a cold case. Six families, six pentagrams. If the demon stuck to the same sick ritual, it would still be in the area. It would be hunting for its next family of five.
The most recent murders were just the first. The demon would be back, and he needed to be ready. He just needed to know where and when, which was why he was going to In Extremis, a nightclub owned, operated, and frequented by halfling demons. If anyone knew something about this demon, it would most likely be them. According to the guild’s history books, halflings had once been human souls that went to Hell and were twisted into something demonic. When they made their way back to Earth, they did Hell’s bidding, tempting humans to sin. They weren’t overtly aggressive or violent to innocents, so the guild often left them alone, provided none of them grew too bold and drew the guild’s attention.
He’d heard stories about the kinds of things that went on at In Extremis, but he’d never personally set foot inside the club himself. It was forbidden for a paladin to go there without backup. This alone would land him on desk duty. It was just one in a series of crimes he planned to commit. But it wouldn’t matter how long he had to sit at a desk or file papers in the archives, as long as he succeeded. He had to make sure it was worth it. Failing wasn’t an option.
He dressed in something he thought would help him blend in—simple jeans, sneakers, and a dark blue T-shirt. He doubted he’d be able to get away with carrying a blade inside, not if he wanted anyone to talk to him, but he put them in the backseat, just in case.
Nerves fluttered in his stomach as he drove across the city. The moon was a sliver in the starlit sky, smiling sinisterly as he hurtled toward his uncertain future. If something happened to him, no one at the guild would know. He was walking into a den of serpents tonight, and he could only hope he would walk back out—and with the information he needed.
In Extremis was located inside an old, converted warehouse on a deserted street. The windows were all covered with black paint, and a lone figure stood outside the main door, his hair a shock of white-blond that looked ethereal in the moonlight. Alex parked across the street and paused, gathering himself. The idea of going in there completely unarmed sent anxiety coiling through him. It was bad enough to set foot in there without his squad. Going in without anything at all to defend himself if they grew hostile would be suicide.
He hooked a sheathed holy knife horizontally in the back of his jeans—it came with a clip designed for exactly that. It was better than nothing. With one last fortifying breath, he got out and locked the car behind him.
Up close, Alex realized the white-haired bouncer beside the door was taller than him and thick with muscle. He gave Alex a thorough once-over, his red irises raking over his body. Those eerie eyes lingered on his guild ring, on the crucifix hanging around his neck. He hadn’t thought to take them off and fought the urge to squirm, setting his jaw and squaring his shoulders. There was no going back now.
Something about that was amusing, because the halfling smirked and opened the door. “Your funeral, holy man,” he said, waving Alex in.
Entering was an assault on every sense. The door opened up at the top of a set of stairs, giving him a disorienting view of the whole club. It was almost pitch black, but streaks of multicolored light cut through the hazy air. Everything smelled like smoke and sweat and liquor. On the dance floor below, bodies writhed in time with the pulsing music, haloed by glossy black tables and booths. Pale light behind the bar drew him like a moth to a flame. On his way through the thick crowd, he saw men and women in the throes of passion, some with lips coated in red that he didn’t think was lipstick. From all sides, crimson eyes bored into him. They all knew what he was, as surely as he knew what they were.
He found an empty barstool and sat down mechanically, carding his fingers through his hair. The bartender was ridiculously tall, with long, ash-blond hair pulled back in a braid like a Viking. He had the same red eyes as all the others. All halflings had either red or black eyes. As far as the guild knew, the black-eyed ones were stronger than their red-eyed counterparts, but they didn’t know why. He hoped he didn’t see any of those tonight. They were much rarer than the red-eyed ones, so maybe his luck would hold.
The crowd seemed to drift away from him, like they thought he’d start flinging holy water at any moment.
“You’ve got balls coming in here,” the bartender said.
Alex pursed his lips. “I’m not here to cause trouble.”
“You being here is trouble,” he said bluntly. “Order a drink or go.”
He swallowed hard. “Just a beer.” He didn’t drink, but he could pretend.
The bartender eyed him distrustfully for a moment, then reached under the bar for a beer and popped the lid off. Alex tossed a bill down on the bar to cover both the drink and a generous tip and dragged it over, turning sideways on the stool to study the crowd. He needed to find someone who might know about the demon, but he didn’t know where to start.
“Who would I talk to about finding someone?” he asked the bartender.
Unamused red eyes flickered toward him. “No one. Nobody here is telling you shit, holy man.”
Fury coiled hot and fast within him, and he forced himself to take a breath. Maybe he should drink the beer after all. It might be the only way he kept his cool.
Something in his expression gave him away. The bartender looked contemplative, as though Alex’s unflattering rush of anger made him more palatable. “Who is it you’re looking for?”
“A demon. A killer.”
Blood on the walls, limp bodies on the floor, their heads making the points of a star. He closed his eyes, scrubbing a hand over them. When he looked back up, the demon’s expression was unchanged.
“Specific,” he drawled.
Alex huffed. “I just need to know if anyone’s heard of any new demons in town making waves.”
“Every new demon who comes to town wants to make waves,” the bartender said. “Not many actually manage it. It’s a big city.”
“So you’re telling me I’m just out of luck and wasting my time?”
He bobbed his head from side to side. “Maybe. You’ve been here thirty seconds. It’s gonna take longer than that for anybody to give a shit about helping you. Prove you’re not just here to kill us first.”
Alex sighed, turning away, and the bartender walked down the bar to attend to another customer. Alex let his gaze drift again. Most everyone was too wrapped up in whatever they were doing to look like they’d be able to answer his questions. A few were furtively eyeing him, but he doubted any of them would open up if he approached them. Maybe he’d made a mistake coming here.
When his gaze raked over a pair of eyes watching him, a jolt went down his spine. At the back of the room, a man sat in a darkened booth. Like a predator, he watched Alex with unblinking focus, one hand idly twirling a dark bottle on the table. He raised his free hand and curled his fingers.
Come here, the gesture said.
The bartender sidled closer, smirking. “You’re done for, now. I wouldn’t keep that one waiting.”
“Why’s that?” Alex asked, unable to tear his eyes from the demon across the room.
“Notice he’s alone.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s because even the other demons are too fucking afraid to go near him.”
Awareness prickled along the back of Alex’s neck. He stood, steeling his spine. He could do this. He had the training and a blade at his back. He wasn’t unprepared or unprotected. He’d been training all his life to fight monsters. These halflings were nothing compared to the teeth and claws he’d fought in the dark.
The crowd parted around him, and he felt scrutinized from all sides.
Demons shouldn’t be attractive, but this one definitely was. His muscular body was shirtless below his leather jacket, muscle and chest hair visible even in the low light. His ink-black hair was artfully mussed, reflecting the multicolored lights like a raven’s feathers. He had high cheekbones and a clean-shaven jaw. A jolt went through Alex when he met black eyes, glittering like starlight.
Black eyes.
Black eyes meant danger. The demon from his childhood had eyes that were entirely black. But this one couldn’t be more different from the one that starred in his nightmares. His smile wasn’t too wide for his face. His teeth weren’t too sharp. Only his irises were black. In fact, the halfling before him looked like he’d been peeled off a magazine cover. He leaned forward as though eager, the muscles of his abdomen rippling with the movement, and Alex felt exposed.
“What brings a holy man like yourself to this fine establishment?” His voice was low and smooth, like honeyed whiskey.
“Fine is… one way of putting it.” Alex glanced away, his eyes finding a couple in another booth nearby, rocking together obscenely. Her dress was pooled around her waist, exposing her upper body to the entire club, but she didn’t seem to care, and neither did anyone else. “I’m looking for someone.”
“There are many someones here,” the demon said, looking amused as he followed Alex’s gaze. “Pick your poison.”
Alex flushed with heat. “No, not—not like that. I’m looking for a demon. One who’s been killing people.”
This demon spread his hands in question. “Many demons kill people. Doesn’t your guild have their own methods for rooting out the worst of us? Why come here?”
Alex’s face twisted. Yes, they did, but it wasn’t like he could go up to a prophet and ask them if they’d seen anything he could use. “They— we do. But I’m not here on behalf of the guild. This is personal.”
The demon arched an artful brow. “Is it? Why is that?”
Alex faltered. He hadn’t expected anyone to ask . “It’s-It’s personal.”
The demon’s eyes gleamed. “Well, if you want my help, I’m afraid you’ll have to share with the class.”
Telling this demon he’d disobeyed orders to come here would give him leverage over Alex. That was a risk he couldn’t take.
“This demon’s killing people. I want to stop it.”
“Why can’t you go through your guild?” the demon asked. “Why come here alone?”
“Because…” He shook his head. This was too risky. This demon would probably force him to admit he was breaking the rules and then blackmail him with the information. No one here was actually going to help him. He was better off pounding the pavement than hoping to find a halfling willing to make a deal. They liked to toy with people. He should’ve known this wouldn’t work. He had nothing to offer them in exchange for their help. “You know what? You’re right, this is stupid. I should’ve known better than to come here.” Maybe he could appeal his case with Sloan. He probably wouldn’t listen, but he had to do something .
He turned on his heel to leave, rage and frustration gnawing at him.
“Stop,” the demon ordered, his voice ringing out over the pulsing music.
And Alex… stopped, his hands clenching at his sides. He needed this. He needed help . Beyond him, a sea of red eyes were watching them in the crowd, waiting to see what would happen. Embarrassment and adrenaline flooded him.
The demon stood smoothly as Alex turned back around. He drifted closer, dangerously close, until Alex could smell the whiskey and leather and something deeper, like some kind of spice. The demon was a hair taller than him, his eyes twinkling with amusement as Alex’s chin jutted out, pointedly standing his ground.
“Come with me,” he said, almost too low for human ears. Alex’s eyes dropped to his mouth to read his lips, and his heart stuttered at the glimpse of bone-white teeth. “Let’s go somewhere quieter.”
He walked to the VIP door and held it open, inclining his head and waiting. Giving Alex a choice. How desperately did Alex want the information he’d come in search of? Was he willing to follow a demon into the dark for it?