Then, in an instant, I’m under the portico with them. Not physically, but all my senses are there. I can smell burning tobacco. I can feel the heat radiating from Hades House.
Up close, the smoker is tall and broad, with a solid, square jaw and tanned skin. His curly hair is a dusty, golden shade of blond; his eyes are a deep, warm green. He’s more than handsome—he’s beautiful. And it’sterrifying.
He brings thick fingers to his mouth and sucks brutally on his cigarette.
“Shithead kids are going to call their daddies.”
“What the fuck do you care, Leo?” The other man, the one who just swung open the door, is much smaller than the blond, slighter in build with impish features. Dark purple circles hang under his chocolate-brown eyes. “We fucking own this place now. Bought it with cold, hard cash. So they can cry to their mommy and daddy all they fucking want.” He punctuates this by hacking a wad of spit onto the sidewalk between them.
Leo jumps back. “What the fuck, Nis? Seriously, man? Watch my fucking sneakers.”
“Sorry, chief.” Nis snickers and presses a cigarette between his lips, lighting it. “Orfeo is still MIA.”
A zap of shock ripples through me and for a moment, my energy surges, causing the sconces to flicker. Leo and Nis give them half a second of consideration.
“He’s not back yet?”
“Nah, and he’s not picking up his goddamn phone. Fucking Italians.”
“Watch it.”
Nis laughs. “Sorry, man.”
Leo tosses his cigarette and drags his hand down his face. “Do we need to be worried? Or is he just out with one of his girls again?”
Girls.Plural.
“I don’t give a shit about his personal well-being. I’m worried he’s going to screw us over, and we’re going to be left withthe mess once he scampers back to his palazzo on the Roman seaside.”
Leo snorts. “There’s no palazzo, Nis. Unless you wanna count the hotel room he’s camping out in. Why the fuck do you think he’s here? Because he’s bored of being a fucking prince? If there was a palazzo, would he really be inEchidna, Pennsylvania, working in a fucking demon’s nightclub?”
“You think he’s in debt?”
Leo’s broad mouth twists into a cold smile. “I know he’s in debt. A blood debt.”
A blood debt?
I can’t take it anymore.
The air warbles around me. For a second, my vision constricts to a pinhole.
I hear the smaller man—Nis, I think—yelling something.
But there’s a swell of fear and anxiety so powerful inside me, it’s almost impossible to stay decoupled from my physical body. I try to bear down, to anchor my spirit to this spot. I’m desperate to know more about Orfeo, about the demon nightclub.
But I can’t.
I snap back into myself with a shudder and a yelp.
The January air hits me like a softball right in the diaphragm and I double over, gasping for air. I try to keep quiet, but the wind and rain feel like a thousand white-hot needles tearing through my cheeks and down my throat, and I choke on a swell of saliva in my mouth. How long has it been since I decoupled? I don’t remember it ever being like this.
Mom was right.
Another rattling gasp rips from my chest as my knees buckle. I’m falling forward. Shit.
I try to extend a hand to stop myself from face-planting into the icy, wet concrete. But as I reach forward, I feel a palm close over my mouth.
The last thing I see before darkness consumes me is the crescent moon as I’m pulled into a dark alley.
