Chapter 11
Iwalk in silence back to my bedroom, Talon walking closely at my side.
The hallways are empty and seem to stretch on for miles.
Shaw doesn’t come to find me—he knows it’s not the right time for us to speak—and after what happened with Bronwyn, I doubt she will ever speak to me again.
Talon’s left hand rests on my lower back while his right holds my bicep—ensuring I don’t crumple.
The ache starts to set into my out-of-shape body, and the thought of going on an assignment in less than twenty-four hours sounds grueling.
My door approaches, and I hear Talon sigh as we near, lost in his own thoughts. My brows shoot up when I realize that once again, my door is ajar. I know I locked it this time, and everything in me screams to be on guard, but I’m too tired.
“Did you unlock my door?” I ask, looking at Talon.
He shakes his head. “When would I have had time to do that? I’ve been with you.”
He’s right, yet I remain silent. Talon pushes open my door, and a wave of stench fills my nose. I fight the urge to gag, covering my nose with the bend of my elbow. The darkness before us seems to pulse as the stench mixes with another scent filling the space.
“Disgusting,” Talon says. “What is that smell?”
He flicks on the overhead lights, and even though I haven’t seen it yet, I know that smell. I just rid my room of it hours ago.
Dead flowers in a vase sit on my bedside table.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
The wilted petals drop onto the wooden surface, and the water is murky.
A rotten smell wafts around the room like dark smoke, filling me with unease.
Like before, a small note rests between two plastic prongs wedged into the flowers.
Talon walks forward, and I follow him. He enters the bathroom, flicks on the lights, quickly scans the small space, then bounds to the window to ensure the lock is intact.
I move straight to the flowers, plucking the note from the prongs and ripping open the small envelope. The same messy handwriting stains the paper with ink, and a single sentence is written once more:
Careful of the Grim.
Another threat and promise that death is upon me.
I feel Talon’s presence towering over me, reading the note over my shoulder as it trembles in my hand.
“Do you know who left these?” he asks.
I glance over my shoulder to where he stands and shake my head.
I crumble the paper in my hand, toss the note in the trash, and gather the rotting flowers.
I move toward the door and rip it open, revealing the empty hallway.
I don’t set the flowers outside my door; instead, I throw the vase against the opposite wall, watching it shatter into a million pieces.
Glass, petals, and water rain down, leaving a decaying stain on the wall.
I watch the water slowly roll down the wall and glare at the rotting flowers as they create a new wallpaper of grime, putrefying blooms, and anger. I only hope whoever is doing this sees what I’ve done and knows this is my own threat against messing with me.
“Shit, Mara,” Talon whistles, watching me. “Lowell is going to kick your ass for that.”
I slam the door, walk across the length of my room, and enter the bathroom. I glance in the mirror and flinch when I see my nose and most of the lower half of my face coated in blood. I grab a washcloth and soak it before attempting to clean myself up.
I rip my shirt over my head and lob it to the side, where it lands with a dirty before pulling off my shoes and my tight pants and tossing them to join the shirt before walking back into my room. Talon quickly raises his brows, seeing me strut across the room in nothing but my underwear.
“Well, hello,” he huffs. “You could warn me.”
“You’ve seen my tits before, Talon.”
He laughs. “And they look phenomenal.”
I browse through my closet, grabbing a pair of loose jeans and a red tank top, then quickly get dressed, slipping on white sneakers.
I glance at Talon and see he’s busy with a book on my shelf, and I can’t help but laugh.
He turns to me, and I think of all the wonderful years we shared as friends.
But now, I only feel regret when I look at him.
“Those don’t look like resting clothes.” Talon studies me warily.
“That’s because I’m not doing that.”
I move across the room and rip open the window, allowing the cool night air to fill the space and waft away the stench of the flowers. I glance back at Talon and let my wings spread against my back and into the surrounding space. The ache in my back makes me flinch, but the weight feels comforting.
“I need a drink,” I say. “Are you coming with me?”
He appears taken aback by my statement, but he smirks before allowing his wings to unfold around him.
“Hell yeah, I am.”
I don’t wait for him to say another word before I launch my body through the wide-open window, letting the night air rush around me.
The city glows against the night sky, and I glance back as Talon darts through the window in a flash.
Barely cloaked in darkness, we navigate the buildings as we head for The Neon Sin.
I take my time, going the long way, needing both time and space after what’s happened.
The assessment did anything but prepare me for what’s coming, and all I can think about is Shaw and Bronwyn.
I replay each assessment over in my mind.
Talon doesn’t rush me. Instead, he flies behind me, watching over me.
He may be a pain in my ass, but he’s smart, and after all these years, he has my back.
I do all I can to block out the memories of the mental assignment, but they play in my mind like a horrific record.
Shaw’s eventual death has always haunted me, like the timer on each assessment counting down our moments together.
I shake my head, opening my eyes to dismiss the thoughts, but I can’t stop thinking about Crew Bannermin’s hands around Shaw’s and my throats.
Those silver eyes, which I had only seen in person a day earlier, continue to plague me.
I’ve gone years without dealing with a demon, yet in the past two days, everything around me seems to be just as bad.
I see a pocket of shadows and take the opportunity to lower myself into an alleyway a block away from The Neon Sin. Talon follows my lead and lands softly behind me, folding his wings shortly after composing himself.
Walking toward the busy street, I turn left out of the alleyway toward the bright neon lights that shine through the darkness like a flare for people seeking a release.
From the outside, I feel the steady beats of the loud music.
The bass fills the air and moves into my chest as I pass the bouncer with the flash of my ID.
Talon follows close behind, allowing me to take in our surroundings.
The bar is empty, but since it’s Friday night, it’ll be standing room only in no time.
The dim red lights make the faces of the few people sitting at the bar difficult to see, and the bartender waves as Talon walks past. Everyone else ignores us, drinking and worrying about their own lives, which is why I love this place.
However, the bartender pauses what she’s doing to look at me, and I offer her a slight smile.
Bottles of liquor fill the bar's back wall, and the scent of stale beer fills my nose.
A dense fog fills the air, and the slowed house music thumps around us.
I inhale deeply, reflecting on all the times I closed this place down.
I would stumble back to the Order, arm in arm with Shaw, Bronwyn, and Talon, laughing until my stomach hurt.
Now, I move to the back alone, and instead of being here to have fun, I’m here to drown out the constant thoughts that threaten to pull me under.
Talon signals that he’s stopping to get us a drink, and I nod, continuing forward. A few men sit in booths, some lining the barstools, and a group plays pool. I don’t meet the stares of the few men trying to get my attention—I’m not here to flirt tonight.
Loud laughs thunder over the music as I locate a small table near the exit in the back. I pull out the worn chair and sit down, glancing to where Talon stands at the bar. He laughs while the girl pours us two clear drinks, garnishing one with a cherry and the other with a lime.
I look left toward the tall black railing that serves as a watchtower to those dancing below.
The bright red lights blend with the fog, casting a crimson haze that envelops the area as if the pits of hell are opening, and I know from experience that nothing good happens on the bottom floor of this bar.
Talon flashes the bartender a smile and palms both drinks, setting his sights on me in the back corner.
He nods to the men playing pool as he makes his way toward me, then beams as he sets both glass cups down before occupying the chair next to me.
On the third chair, Talon kicks both feet up and settles in, completely comfortable in this setting.
He tilts his strong neck back, takes a massive gulp of his drink with lime, and winks at me before setting it back down on the table.
I lift the glass to my lips and inhale deeply.
The potent aroma of the clear liquor with a hint of cherry stings my nose, and I take a cautious sip.
The heat fills my cheeks and travels down my throat, burning my chest and stomach.
“Does Shaw know we are here?” I ask.
Talon takes a sip. “I texted him, yes.”
“Is he coming?”
“He sure isn’t,” Talon smirks wildly. “It’s just us tonight, babe.”
I nod and gaze at the flashing lights on the dance floor below, shining from the depths beyond the railing.
“Does Bronwyn know?” I cut my eyes at him.
He lowers his feet from the chair, sitting to face me fully. “I didn’t text her.”