Chapter 11
ARIANNA
The wind cuts into my cheeks as I make my way toward the club. Lucy said I should stay at home for longer, but I’m starting to go stir-crazy. I need to get back to normal—as normal as I can, anyway.
We buried what was left of Aunt May before we came back.
It turns out that my family knew a guy who dealt with the kind of situation I was in—the dusty kind.
He came to the house, wrote out a report saying my aunt had fallen down the stairs, and that was it.
He’d apparently also dealt with my grandfather and parents’ deaths, which I’ve come to realize were also the dusty kind.
The funeral was small and brief. No one questioned our story. I guess falling down the stairs is a more common death than I had realized.
I walk around the corner and slow to a stop.
Up ahead, the evening queue is already forming outside the club.
Maybe I should have stayed home. I lift my head and take in the early evening sky.
It’s dark again, and I wonder if another storm is coming.
I pull my coat tighter around my neck and start moving again.
As soon as Manny sees me, he breaks out into a huge smile.
He pulls me in for a hug. “I missed you, boss.”
I look up and smile at him. “It’s nice to be missed.” His cheeks turn a slight pink before he ushers a couple of daemons into the club. “How are things?”
He shrugs. “Okay. The new girl is cute, though.” He grins.
I shake my head and pat his shoulder as I walk past him.
“No hitting on the staff, Manny. Kat would be pissed.” I laugh to myself.
He has no idea that Kat has had the biggest crush on him since she started.
Opening the door to the club, I’m hit with the smell of sweaty bodies and sex, a scent I didn’t think I missed until now.
I walk over to the bar and am greeted by a grinning redhead.
“Ari, right?” She holds her hand out to me. “I’m Eden. It’s nice to meet you.” She waits for me to take her hand, her smile unfaltering. She looks strangely relieved when I do. Her enthusiasm is a little unsettling.
“It’s nice to meet you. How are you finding everything?” I step away, pulling my hand back so I can put my coat away behind the bar.
“It’s been good. Kat’s shown me everything, I think.
I’m dancing for the first time later.” She looks nervous, and I can’t help the smile that crosses my lips.
I remember that feeling, knowing that something you love to do can bring you immense joy.
But you’re also ready to shit your pants at the same time.
I move closer and give her a nudge with my shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Take a deep breath and go from there.” I look around. It’s still early, but the bar feels almost complete. “Has there been any trouble?” I ask.
She nods towards the end of the bar, and my eyes follow.
I let out a gasp when I see who’s sitting there—the red-eyed man from my aunt’s house.
He lifts a glass of what looks like blood in greeting.
“Not trouble, not exactly. He’s been asking for you.
Been there all day, drinking the same drink. He said he would wait.” She shrugs.
I turn to Eden and smile even though I feel sick. “Sometimes the men here get a little too attached,” I laugh. “We have let them down gently. Why don’t you fill the ice boxes and try making a cocktail? Maybe we’ll name it after our new dancer.” I wink.
Eden’s face lights up.. “Really? Thank you. I know just what to make.” She giggles. “Raunchy Red.”
I fake another smile, making my face ache. I can feel his eyes on me, and I shudder so hard I lose my balance. Eden catches me.
“I skipped lunch,” I say quickly. “I’ll be back.” I straighten, throwing my shoulders back as I stalk towards the end of the bar. I keep my head held high because I’ll be fucked if he thinks he can intimidate me in my own damn club.
“You’ve been asking for me?” I ask sharply.
A smirk crosses his face. “Oh, you know… ‘sometimes the men here get a little attached,’” He scoffs as my eyes go wide.
Had he heard me? No…not with how loud the club is tonight.
So, what then? “An entertaining notion, but it is the wrong one.” His voice holds the promise that if you were to turn your back, he would gleefully stab you in it. The word evil springs to mind.
“What do you want?” I ask.
The book, he’d said. But what fucking book?
“Ah, good, you do remember. The book. But what fucking book?” His thick accent shifts to mimic the cadence of my own voice, and I gasp.
“Yes, I can read your mind. I know you remember me, Ari. But since we weren’t able to,” he clears his throat, “speak properly before, I wanted to make sure you understood me.” He narrows his eyes at me as he speaks.
I open my mouth to reply, but his eyes flash from red to yellow, and he inhales sharply, like he’s tasting the air.
The lights in the club dim, and Kesha’s “TikTok” starts to boom from the speakers.
It’s Lucy’s song, and I know she’s about to appear on stage.
His eyes flick towards it, and he swallows hard.
The hand on his glass tightens as the muscles in his jaw tick; a look of pure carnal lust crosses his face as he stares at Lucy.
“That you’d let us live if we found your book,” I snap, irrationally angry at the way he looks at her. His eyes snap to mine for a second, the glow shifting to red as he growls. “But you didn’t actually say what book.”
He rolls his eyes. “I will change the terms, maybe give a bit more incentive for you,” he says as he stands, an evil grin spreading over his mouth. His voice grows darker. “You should really be careful with what runs through your mind when I am near,” he says, voice low and dangerous.
I step back, and a horrible feeling starts to bloom in the pit of my stomach —a sense that this daemon is never going to go away.
I watch his eyes turn back to the stage again. He licks his lips, and he speaks. “Get me that book. Or I will be taking her,” he says, his eyes follow Lucy as she dances. I almost can’t place the look on his face; he almost looks forlorn.
Slowly, he pulls his gaze away from her, grinning at me when he sees me shiver, his eyes again shifting from red to yellow.
“You are the book’s only reader; it’s looking for you, too.
” He almost seems like a different daemon, as he shrugs.
“You’ll find it. When you do, call me.” He downs the rest of the blood in his glass, giving the stage one more look before he turns and makes his way out of the club.
My eyes flick to Lucy, still dancing, and I wonder what that last look was for.
Underneath his glass is a black business card with a number written in red. I sigh, picking it up, feeling like I have no choice. On the other side is a name, written in ink so dark it could be blood—just one name.
Drake.