Chapter 2
Ican’t say that I’m surprised I’ve come up with nothing over the past week, but it still bothers the fuck out of me.
All of my resources, from my militia connections to my underworld contacts, and no one can give me anything.
No matter the money I’m ready to forfeit, not a single soul can explain to me how I can get to the Beyond.
I’m not a textbooks guy, but I even spent some time in the library—a fucking book warehouse. Come on now, that should easily spell out how desperate I am. It also doesn’t help that the one person I figured could give me the answers I needed quite literally told me no.
“No.” Just like that. Absolutely shut me down. Fallen asshole.
The tapping on the bar top grows louder with my irritation. It’s not to get the bartender’s attention, but it’s to keep me from shattering the empty glass in front of me.
Alcohol doesn’t hit like it used to, not after a thousand years. These days, I need my meals heavily drunk just to feel a buzz. And while I might end the night sinking my fangs into one of these patrons, for now, I’ll have to wait.
This is the fourth time I’ve called Alaric, and if he ignores me again, he’ll regret it. Desperation’s setting in. Every dead end I hit trying to figure out how to open the gates to the Beyond—and survive the trip—just feels like I’m drifting further away from Lucifer.
Though, I suppose some would argue you can’t get much further from someone than existing on two different realms entirely.
“I swear to Serynne herself.” His slithery voice flows right through my earpiece. “I’m going to change my number.”
“Don’t waste your time, I’m resourceful and will find you.”
He groans. “What, Vampire?”
“You know why I’m calling.”
I spin around, crossing one leg over the other as I lean back against the bar top. The country joint is packed, the air thick with laughter and the stomp of boots against wood. The music’s loud, but not enough to drown out Alaric’s grumbling on the other end of the line.
“Listen,” I say, voice low. “It might kill me getting to the Beyond—”
“It will kill you.”
“Perfect, so why not just assist me?”
“Kayn—”
“Listen, if you could call me Butcher, that’d be better. Having you use my first name feels too personal.”
That, and let’s be honest… having people call me by my last name is a power move. It’s dominating, and that’s exactly what I am.
He sighs, and I can’t help the satisfaction that comes with knowing I’ve irritated him.
“Butcher, the only people who can do that are Demons themselves…”
“From my understanding, you’ve opened them before.”
“No, I haven’t. Belial opened them. I’m a Divine being. Before my exile, I could have unlocked the passage to the Vayl—but that’s it.” His voice tightens. “I’m no Demon. I can’t help…”
His pause catches my attention, enough to make me glance away from the couple eye-fucking me from the dance floor.
“I sense a but coming,” I say.
“I’m currently looking into how Xeraphine and I can fulfill our promise to Belial.”
I roll my eyes and let them drift back to the dark-haired Mundane grinding against her partner.
The guy smells like a Shifter—hard to tell what kind with all the bodies packed in here—but I’m intrigued either way.
The woman presses harder against him, her tight red dress hugging warm brown skin and every delicious curve beneath it.
“I don’t know if I’m going in the right direction—” Alaric keeps rambling, and I only half listen. I know I called him, but he has a way of turning everything into a lecture that goes nowhere, and typically revolves around himself.
My attention stays on the Shifter, who’s now staring right back at me with the same hunger as his girl. I spread my legs, tilt my head, and raise a brow. If there was any question about my interest, the way my cock strains against my jeans should clear that right up.
“It’s possible that they could help you.”
“Hmm?” I clear my throat. “Who?”
“Butcher. You called me. Are you even listening?”
“Truthfully, no. You enjoy talking about yourself and I’m just not into it, your problems, or… you. So now, what was that you were saying about my problem?”
The girl gives me a flirty smile and I wink, before bringing my full attention to Alaric. “A Yldarwright.”
“Gazoontite.”
“I didn’t sneeze…”
“Sounded like it.” I can’t help but scoff. “Then you’re making up words.”
“Aren’t you super old? Shouldn’t you know about this stuff?” Again, he sounds very frustrated with me.
Can’t imagine why…
“Yldarwrights. I’ve never heard—wait. Is it that reality show that plays on ESB Global? I could never get into it.”
It’s like I can feel the frustration rolling off of his tongue when he seethes, “You’re wasting my time.”
“Nah, you like to be questioned. Always talking without actually saying anything useful.”
“A Witch, Butcher. A fucking Witch.”
Alright, now that he says that I do recall them having different subspecies of themselves like us Vampires do.
“I know you’re dying to give me a small history lesson, so go for it.” My gaze had shifted away from the couple, but when I return they are moving through the crowd and coming toward me.
Oh, I’m definitely getting my dick wet tonight.
“There are two categories of Witches: Hexborn and Yldarwrights. The former are, in a way, modern Witches—”
“Do we call the men Warlocks?”
“No…” he grumbles. “There were Necromancers once, but they died out a millennia ago. I’d classify them under the Witch spectra—but now I’m getting away from the point. Don’t interrupt me.”
I bite my lip as the Mundane woman steps between my legs. Before she can speak, I raise a hand and tap my earpiece, drawing her gaze to it. Then I crook a finger, wordlessly inviting her closer.
“Continue, I’m listening.”
“Modern Witches make up most of their population, I’d say ninety-nine percent. You, of course, will want to find the one percent. A Yldarwright.”
He pauses, which gives me a chance to ask, “What’s the difference?
They both use magic, right?” I straighten from the bar, letting my height cast a shadow over the woman.
My gaze slides past her shoulder to the man behind her, his dark skin equally as flawless as hers, and he’s got some gorgeous hazel eyes I want on me while he’s sucking my dick.
“Yldarwrights are far more powerful, and they connect directly with Vendra, who is one of the Divine Twelve. She governs life’s bounty, and is known as Earth’s eternal hand. Or, what mortals like to call her, Mother Nature.”
I draw my hand up the curve of the girl’s voluptuous hips while moving the opposite behind her to grab the male and sandwich her between us. “What does her connection to a Goddess matter to me? I’m trying to get to Belial. Wouldn’t that take me in the opposite direction?”
The two in front of me are quite drunk. Even if they could comprehend this one-sided conversation, I plan to leave them so blissed out from blood loss they’ll forget everything but how I’ve fucked them to another planet.
“I’m no expert, but as I’ve said on countless occasions, Gods and Demons are cut from the same cloth. If a Yldarwright can open the pathway to the Vayl, I imagine they can do the same to the Beyond. Look, I’ve given you what you asked, please for the love of Serynne, stop calling me.”
The Mundane female leans in and starts moving her hands up my shirt. The touch of her warm fingers has me groaning.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Last question, then I need to go.”
“You aren’t fucking someone with me on the phone, are you? I swear to—”
“If I was, you’d know it and wish you were with me. Now, where can I find a Yldarwright?”
I swear he shouts, “I am not your dog. Why would I know that?!”
My grin turns feral, fangs flashing as I bare them at the girl. She doesn’t flinch. Perfect. She’s definitely getting bit first. “You always have more than what you let on, Alaric. I don’t want to ask again. If you were a Yldarwright, where would you be?”
“I know of one, and it’s only because it was a hot-fucking-topic—”
“Your bad language turns me on.”
He hisses, “Oh for Vayl sakes, Butcher. I’ll text the location. Good luck.”
I stand as the line goes dead. The couple lifts their chins, eyes locked on me. I wet my bottom lip. “Tell me I’ll have you both. I don’t like limitations.”
I reach out and grab onto the Shifter, taking nearly his entire neck in my grasp. He isn’t small by any means, but more lean in build, where I’m wide, tall, and all muscle.
He smiles, and what a glorious one it is. “We were hoping to share you.”
“Now that is what I like to hear. I must warn you. I bite.”
The girl between us wraps her arms around my neck and pulls one leg up to my hip. “We were hope’n for that.”
“Very good.”
Time to celebrate a small win. It’s been too long since I’ve had one. A taste of these delectable delights should keep me satisfied for the drive to that Witch.
Lucifer, I’m coming for you, my little deviant.