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If I had joined Frank’s fight club and worked out my demon’s needs, would my eyes have still changed in front of Jacob? Tate had set me on edge, and his simple presence was enough to make me feel younger and more inexperienced. I was right back to being the demon who first came to Earth with the hopes of living with the humans as one of them. A demon who was reminded with every step Iwasn’thuman and never would be, and everything I touched turned to darkness because of a nature I couldn’t escape. Tate craved the darkness, wanted it, and he was disappointed when his excitement over me being a demon was quashed by the reality I was nothing but a coward.
I marked him for life, and I don’t blame him for hating me.
But I do blame him for coming after Jacob.
The confusion on Jacob’s face when he saw my true eyes was haunting me—the delicate little frown that tarnished his features burned into my memory whenever I closed my eyes. For a moment, he forgot the blade at his throat and the danger he was in, the vulnerability of his nudity, and he was watching only me, knowing that I held some secret from him.
Now he knew and was scared and confused. Maybe it was better this way. If he grew to hate me because of what I was, then once Tate was dealt with, Jacob would leave and never come back. Then he wouldn’t be corrupted by my demonic power, the part of me I couldn’t escape.
Finally, Jacob fell into an uneasy sleep and muttered and mumbled in his slumber. I thought I heard him say my name and an ache opened in my chest.
The pain was nothing less than I deserved.
Emrick was due back today, and Ilsa and Ray had come by my apartment in the afternoon to escort us to see him. It had been an awkward morning, and while Jacob had slept in, plagued by dreams that prevented him from sleeping during the remaining hours of the night, the rest of the time was spent in stony silence. He continually glanced at me as if expecting me to morph into a monster and attack him. I couldn’t blame his reaction, but it still hurt for him to act as though I was keeping him captive when all I was trying to do was keep him safe.
I wouldn’t leave Jacob alone for a second after what had happened. Somehow, Tate had escaped from Ray, and although she and Isla had searched, they hadn’t found him and returned to my building. They avoided the cops milling around the entrance due to the doorman’s murder and staked out the building for the remaining few hours of the night. But Tate did not attempt to return.
Frank said he would meet us at Urban, the nightclub Emrick ran his base from and where he also lived —evidently with his wife—although who would marry a fallen angel is beyond me.
Then again, who would bond with a demon?
There was no point in telling Frank he didn’t need to be there. Now he had the confession about my past, he wasn’t planning on letting me deal with any stage of this alone. He spent a decent twenty minutes this morning bellowing at me down the phone for not calling him last night after Tate had broken in, and I endured his rage, feeling my anger boiling in the pit of my stomach. Did he really think Iwantedthis shit to happen? But again, I didn’t stop Frank’s screaming nor stand up for myself because I would take every ounce of punishment I could get. I would accept every bit of pain and guilt, and let it pile on my shoulders and weigh me down because I deserved it all.
Eventually, Jacob stood and moved to the bathroom, not looking me in the eye, and showered and dressed with the door locked. When Ray and Ilsa came upstairs, he stuck close to Ilsa. Evidently, he could tell something was off about Ray from the looks he kept throwing her, and maybe he had his suspicions she was also a demon. I silently thanked Ilsa for not mentioning to Jacob she was bonded to Ray, and therefore, much like Tate, had elements of demonic power within her.
Jacob needed an ally somewhere.
When we arrived, Frank was leaning against his car, parked illegally in front of the club. Arms crossed over his impressive chest, he pushed himself upright and came to meet us, stopped in front of me, and didn’t move until I met his eye. Without a word, he studied my face, reached out, and grabbed Jacob’s arm as he walked past with his hands shoved in his pockets.
“Hey!” Jacob protested Frank’s treatment, and I lifted my lip into a snarl.
“Get your hands off him.”
Frank ignored me and stared into Jacob’s eyes until Jacob’s frown melted away from the intense glare, and his eyes grew wide with fear. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?” His voice trembled as he met Frank’s gaze. Now that he had felt demonic power, he could sense it in the air around us, attuned to the aura that separated us from humans.
Frank scowled and released him before turning back to me. “I’ve been through all of this with Charlotte. He’ll accept it one day.”
I shook my head—this wasn’t the same. Frank had willingly shown his nature to Charlotte after they had already built some semblance of a relationship. I glanced at Jacob over Frank’s shoulder. He stood close to Ilsa as though I would attack him at any second. “I don’t think so, Frank,” I muttered, sidestepping and moving past him.
As a group, we moved to the club’s entrance, the building ugly and imposing in the harsh sunlight. When the door creaked open, a man who resembled a bodybuilder stood, hand poised on the metal door, with colorful tattoos across his face, shaved head, and arms. He looked disinterested in our group until his eyes landed on Ray and Ilsa, and he scowled.
“What do you want?”
“We need to see Emrick,” Ray said.
“I doubt he’ll want to seeyou.”
“Fuck you, Sven. Just let us in.”
Sven lifted a shoulder, opened the door wider, stepped aside, and let our odd group move through. Ray pushed her way to the front, and Ilsa brought up the rear, keeping her shoulder pressed close to Jacob’s, which he didn’t seem to mind. I was touched that she went out of her way to make him feel safe. When Ray treated this purely as the business transaction it was, Ilsa seemed to genuinely care about the man she was being paid to protect.
After being patted down by Sven, we made our way, single file, up a winding staircase, and Ray pounded on the door at the top of the stairs, immediately tapping her foot impatiently when it wasn’t opened within two seconds of her demand for entrance. Another bodyguard opened the door, his tight black T-shirt two sizes too small and stretched across his arms, one side as heavily tattooed as Sven, though with less color. He, too, saw Ray and scowled but led her onto the balcony that overlooked the dance floor, and once everyone was inside, he left, closing the door with a metallic click behind him.
I barely had time to register footsteps pounding across the balcony before I was shoved to the side.
He was on Frank, his hand at Frank’s throat, and had him shoved against the closed door. The guy was fucking huge and physically larger than Frank, which made him an imposing figure. Wearing black pants and a black tank, his arms and shoulders were covered in heavy tribal tattoos, his dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, the tip of which sat just above the hint of scars visible above the top of his tank.
The scars sent a shiver down my spine, the scars of a fallen angel whose wings had been removed.
