Chapter 15 #2
I keep myself in true form but tuck my wings in tight to ensure I remain unnoticed.
I’m on the rooftop across the street from The Tower, and I kneel near the edge.
Peering over the ledge of the building, I watch the cars pull to and from the building in no orderly fashion.
Based on the sun in the sky, it’s around 6 P.M., and I have about an hour before it’s show time.
I turn, placing my back against the ledge while unholstering a few guns, setting them at my sides.
I trace my fingers along the smooth surface and relish the warmth the sun casts upon my body.
My thoughts swirl like the clouds above, but I do all I can to keep my mind clear, steady, and focused.
However, with the events of the past few days, that’s nearly impossible.
As prepared as I am, I feel like this mission is one where I need to prove myself.
I have something to lose, and I know there are eyes on me even when no one is around.
I tip my head back, soaking in the last few minutes of daylight, and my eyes grow heavy.
With an hour remaining until Mr. Lewis arrives for his nightly blackout, I close my eyes for a moment, allowing the exhaustion to settle into my system.
Thoughts of my dad enter my mind—his infectious smile, kind eyes, and fantastic ability to make you feel important in a room full of people.
He never wanted this life for me, but to an extent, I followed in his footsteps.
Given that he’s the head of the police department in Halcyon City, it’s expected that I would pick up some traits over the years.
The heaviness of sleep weighs down my eyes, making it impossible to open them. The breeze travels around me like a warm hug, and I feel myself drifting farther from my own mind and into the darkness that sleep offers.
I take a deep breath and fall.
Fuck this hangover.
The chilly night air tousles my hair, and I drift between the line of wakefulness and sleep. Without opening my eyes, I assess my state—feeling more alive than earlier.
About damn time.
That’s the last night I mix five different alcohols.
I keep my eyes shut and move my neck around, noting the ache settling in from the uncomfortable position I’ve been in for who knows how long.
That sleep was awesome; I feel rested and better than I have all day.
I open my eyes, and shock ripples through my system, nearly causing me to stand and topple off the edge of the building.
I overslept.
The sun has fully set, and the bright glow of city lights shines around me as if mocking the sun.
The city below hums with shouts, horns, and other noises, signaling that the nightlife has begun in Halcyon City.
My senses jolt, and I quickly collect myself, feeling like an idiot for thinking I could sleep for only a moment.
No wonder I overslept. I’ve had the day from literal hell.
I peer over the edge to see a blacked-out SUV waiting in front of the large building across the street from where I currently sit. I slowly pan my gaze to the large windows across from me to see a group of businessmen downing drinks.
Lewis Vanderwith sits at the edge of the bar holding a glass filled with a brown liquid.
“Okay,” I say aloud. “At least I didn’t fuck everything up.”
“Maybe just your neck,” a deep voice calls from the darkness of the opposite side of the roof. “You snore, by the way.”
I slowly turn, my gaze finding an object in the small pocket of darkness near the door.
A tall figure leans against the rooftop access structure, arms crossed.
Crew Bannermin steps into the night, allowing the city’s glow to illuminate him.
The demon’s large black wings blend seamlessly with the night, and an aura of darkness oozes from him, sending a shiver up my spine.
“Don’t worry,” Crew waves his hands. “I was going to wake you, but you looked so cute sleeping.”
“Ugh,” I sigh. “It’s you.”
“In the flesh, baby.” He smirks, making me immediately pissed. “We must stop meeting this way.”
“Do you have a death wish?” I spit.
“Hmmm,” he hums, running his hands through his hair. “Not today.”
“I specifically remember telling you if you showed up tonight, you’d be dead, so you must. Or are you just stupid?”
He tilts his head. “I wanted to see you.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
“I don’t think so,” he responds.
Crew’s heavy footsteps thunder on the rooftop, and the breeze rustles his dark hair in all directions.
Instead of his usual suit, Crew wears a tight, long-sleeve shirt that showcases his toned arms and chest, along with black pants and perfectly polished boots.
His belt, like mine, is heavily decorated with suppressed guns and a single fixed-blade knife.
However, one item in particular catches my eye: across his back sits a large sniper rifle—perfect for long-distance and precise shooting.
“It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?” Crew says with a smirk. “You look even better, little angel. How’s the hangover treating you?”
“Stop being so casual.”
“Why?” he asks. “I’m excited to work with you for many reasons. You are famous, did you know?”
“I earned my name in a few specific ways,” I seethe. “And seeing as you think I’m kidding, I can show you at least one.”
“You can show me however you want.” Crew grins, clapping his hands together. “Give me a spoiler. On my knees? Tied up? Do you want to gag me?”
Anger swiftly replaces all my senses as I grab one of my pistols and rise to join his playing field.
He walks toward me with purpose, and after being around him for even a second, I’m already irritated by his mouth and usual cockiness.
His aura fills the roof like a black smog, and through the darkness, I can see his true form begging to emerge.
“I wasn’t joking,” I warn.
I steady my shoulder and raise the gun in front of me. The cold metal feels reassuring in my hands, and I let the weight flow through my arm. Crew watches me, amusement curling the corners of his mouth, but he doesn’t back down as each step gets closer.
“Look at you,” he says. “The Hollow…” he pauses, not finishing the name, and I glare at him. “—in her comfort zone.”
I remove the safety on my gun.
“Mara, c’mon,” Crew laughs. “Put the gun down. I’m just messing around.”
“I’ve waited a long time to do this,” I whisper.
I steady my breath and inhale.
“Do what?” He pauses.
I smile wildly.
“Mara,” Crew snaps and steps back. “Wait a second.”
“Warning four,” I say.
“You just woke up. It’s common knowledge you should wait at least ten minutes after waking before you handle a gun, little ange…”
I pull the trigger and fire the gun directly at him, then exhale.
The suppressor helps mute the noise that crashes around us like a lightning strike.
The gun kicks back, sending a wave of pressure through my arm, but I hold steady, having done this thousands of times before—in practice and toward men.
The bullet flies as I watch it hit Crew, throwing his shoulder backward from the blast effect.
Blood sprays into the night sky and trickles around him like falling rain.
A smile crosses my face, dulling the anger for a moment as he slumps to the ground.
His muffled groan echoes around me, and it’s like delicious music to my ears.
“I fucking told you,” I huff a laugh. “I’m a woman of my word, Bannermin.”