Chapter 5
Picking up my bag and keys, I scan the very untidy living room and smile.
Mekhi, Lucy, and I decided that last night was “fashion show” night, and the evidence is chucked all over the place.
With a laugh, I shout as I open the front door, “Tidy up, Mekhi. Lucy has been working since this morning, and I’m not home until late. ”
Mekhi groans from under a pile of clothes before a shoe comes flying almost hitting me in the head “Hitch, I need my beauty sleep. Bitches go!”
Laughing again as I close the front door.
I pull my coat tighter around my body; the night is cold, so I pick up my pace.
Nights like tonight always give me the shivers; it’s almost like the darkness is watching me, waiting to snatch me up the first chance it gets.
Walking around the corner, I slowly come to a stop, facing the entrance of the park, I stare for a few moments, taking in the small playground.
To the left side is a broken swing. There was going to be a skate park, but the work stopped for some reason.
You can still see the holes that were dug.
Some of the framework went up, but nothing else.
It gives me the chills. There’s a pond next to one of the slides.
It’s empty now and has been since that night.
Pulling in a slow and steady breath, I step over the threshold and let my shoes sink into the wet grass.
This is the park where I found Lucy five years ago, and I still can’t find it within myself to walk any further in than I am now.
It’s almost like time has stopped, frozen by what happened that night.
And just like me, the park can never move on.
That night almost feels like a dream. The only reason I know it wasn’t, is because the woman I found has now become one of my best friends. She moved in with Mekhi and me that very night. Lucy fit us both so perfectly that neither Mekhi nor I wanted her to go.
It was difficult for the first few nights, Lucy woke up scared, having nightmares that went on for weeks.
The whole thing freaked Mekhi out. He kept a log of her activity in case she actually turned out to be a killer.
Mekhi refused to go anywhere near her. He had even moved out for two nights until “she beastie,” as he called her, wasn’t trying to stab him.
The thought of it makes me laugh even now; she never tried to; she was just a little jumpy.
But when she realized we wouldn’t hurt her, she settled in just fine.
Lucy had no memory of what had happened to her or any of anything from before that night.
Maybe one day she will remember, and these nightmares will be over.
Until then, we will make sure she is safe.
A shiver runs over my body, and my head snaps up, my Wiccan powers coursing through my veins in warning, making my fingers tingle.
I scan the park and just by the broken swing I see the outline of a man—he’s tall, maybe about 6ft 5in, his long blonde hair blowing around his face in the wind, his yellow eyes staring at me with intrigue, before they shift to red.
He’s handsome, if you like your men of the daemon variety. Me? I want my men human.
Fisting my hands, I begin to whisper a vanishing spell, but before it’s out of my mouth, the daemon’s body starts to shake and fade, shimmering.
He must be one of the more powerful daemons; those are the ones that can move like that. I’ve seen many of them moving in and out of the club in the same way. Some fade, others pop like someone has clicked a finger. The more deadly and scary ones can shimmer.
We had to place wards around the club to prevent any daemon from entering. When we first opened it, it caused too many fights and deaths.
Daemons love a sneak attack.
Glancing around the park, trying to see if I can see him again, but he’s gone. “Who are you?” I say mutter to myself. My whole life, I’ve been around magic. Still, it’s not until recently that destructive daemons have been emerging from wherever they have been hiding.
Turning on my heels, I leave the park and head towards the club that Lucy and I own.
After the first few months of getting Lucy settled in, we tried to find her a job, which was proving difficult to say the least. One thing Lucy didn’t like was being told what to do, so instead, we opened a club.
I had money left over from my inheritance so I was able to buy it.
This isn’t your usual club. Ours is a place where daemons and humans can come together in peace and have some fun.
Some humans like to be around daemons--I guess they like the danger of it.
We have two rules: no fighting and no killing.
This policy has led to our club often being the place where high-powered daemons and rival clans settle their arguments.
As I walk closer, I hear the pumping beat of the music, and it makes me smile. I love working there. Not only does it make me feel at home, but I love seeing how much everyone loves being there.
I walk past the end of the line of daemons and humans waiting to get in.
A few wave at me, hoping to skip to the front, but that’s not my job.
I leave that up to Manny—my head bouncer and scraper daemon is enormous; with thick arms and the biggest neck of pure muscle I’ve ever seen.
But he has a kind face and deep orange eyes.
I reach the door and Manny grins at me. “Good evening, miss, how are you doing?” His voice is deep but always happy.
Looking up into his eyes, I smile. “I’m doing well. Any trouble?”
He laughs. “You already know the answer to that one.”
I give him a cheeky smile, because for as long as Manny has been on the door, trouble is at its lowest. Patting him on the arm, I walk past him and look up at the bright yellow and blue sign that reads “The House of Hades,” and my smile gets bigger.
Lucy and I chose the name and design together.
I still remember how proud we felt when it was installed.
Pushing open the big black doors, I’m met with a wave of happy energy that runs over my body just before the sound of music and laughter hits me.
The walls are painted black, and there are gold lights scattered around, dimmed to add to the vibes.
Small tables of four cover the floor, each with one candle sitting in the middle.
Around the outside of the room are private booths, overlooking the main feature of the club, which is a stage for dancers. A pole sits center stage.
The bar is my favorite; its black and gold marble stretches the entire side of the club. It’s where I spend most of my time. There’s also a private section at the back, but it’s reserved for VIPs.
Reaching the bar, I pull my jacket off, placing it behind the mixing station with my bag. I’ll be working until close tonight, so it’s going to be a long one.
“Hey, lady, you’re early.” I glance up, hearing Kat’s voice, and return the fist bump she offers me.
Kat has been working here since we first opened.
She’s a lust daemon, meaning that she can make any man or woman fall in lust with her in seconds, and they’ll do anything she asks.
The only downside to it is that if she leaves them like that for too long, they become so obsessed that they end up killing themselves.
Kat is stunning. Her pink, wavy hair falls in long waves down her back, and her eyes look like glowing pools of silver that you can’t help but get lost in.
Her body is toned and covered in tattoos.
Everyone goes crazy for her when she dances.
I’m pretty sure she uses her powers when she does get on the stage, because that girl sure pulls in the tips.
“Yeah, thought I’d get a head start on the new cocktail menu.
We have that new order of vodka and rum coming in, so I want to be ready.
” She places a drink on the bar for one of the waitresses to pick up, then turns and gives me a questioning look.
I laugh, knowing exactly what she is about to ask me.
“And no, I didn’t call Luke. You know I don’t date men from the club. ”
She shakes her head. “You should have called him, the guy stayed here all-night Saturday, ordering drinks he didn’t drink, just so he could stare at you.”
I roll my eyes at her. “He was…”
She laughs and knocks into my side. “Was what? Sexy as hell? Girl, I would have made a man sandwich out of him and eaten that all up. He was hot.”
“Yes, he was. But he wasn’t my type.”
“Sexy isn’t your type?” she says sarcastically.
I huff a laugh. “Yes, sexy is my type, just not that kind of sexy.”
Kat moves to the end of the bar to serve a guy but in true Kat fashion—the girl is not shy and definitely not quiet—starts yelling back at me.
“I don’t know what your idea of sexy is, but you need to sort it out.
I’ve seen three guys give you their number, and that was just last night, yet still no date and no boyfriend…
come on, Ari,” she says as she pours the mixer into a glass of rum, winking at the guy, before leaning over the bar and shouting something to him over the music.
I watch as those perfect silver eyes sparkle a little, and a soft, seductive smile plays on her lips.
The guy swallows hard before handing her fifty dollars and telling her to keep the change.