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“Lots of us are attending the ball he’s hosting in New York at your previous club. Your mother should be there so we can try to rescue her there.” Daemon explained, leaving out a crucial part.
“He asked how we kill them,” I growled in frustration. I needed to know. “The deathwalker from that night was able to retract his eyes. Like they sunk into his face, making it impossible to make eye contact to charm him. How do I killhim?”
“He’s hardly the one you should worry about right now.”
“How?” I demanded once more, my voice vibrating the floor beneath me.
“Touch is the only way in that specific case,” Daemon said flatly. “Find a way to distract him. Deathwalkers are notorious hotheads. I’d piss him off and catch him off guard, personally. But again, you’re missing the real villain here. Azrael is far stronger and has been planning his comeback for centuries now. I don’t imagine he’ll go out without swinging.”
Daemon turned around, flicking his index and middle finger to the bartender as if motioning him to approach us.
The bartender smiled widely, drawn to him, and without any words, began mixing a series of drinks, filling them ona tray, and sauntering toward us with a look I knew all too well. The look of seduction, his eyes making googly eyes at Daemon as he passed a round of shots around us.
“What is this?” Tina hissed as she twirled the drink in her hand.
“This-” Daemon grabbed his shot and nodded to the bartender, who swooned again and then returned behind the bar. “This is my truce and hopefully a way to show you I am on your side. Despite whatever it is that you may think. And whatever happens in two days will likely spark a war among the demons. If you thought things were hectic now, I’d suggest you have one last night of freedom. You might not have one for a while.”
And that was the beginning of a very long night. A night we all knew to take advantage of because this warning was far greater than any of us could have imagined.
A war was brewing, and we seemed to be caught in the middle of it.
Chapter 20
Freya
There were holes in my memory, images swirling together, trying to desperately make sense of what had happened last night as I slowly heaved forward from the bed in total darkness.
My hand pressed against my forehead, wracking my brain to retrace itself.
I remembered meeting up with Sophie and Trevor, though Trevor didn’t say anything. And then there was the stranger, Daemon. Even now, his emerald green eyes seemed to seer into my mind. They were so vividly captivating that I could almost picture them perfectly.
After a tiring conversation about who the ancients were and what they were after, I couldn’t remember what happened after that point. We had all taken a shot; that was all I could remember. At least, all I could remembervividly.
The rest of it came together like scraps, shards of images.
I think we might have entered a few other bars, though all looked and smelled the same. Smells of liquor and vomit and piss seemed to cycle in waves, or so I vaguely remembered.
I had a random memory of using a bathroom, thelights flickering around me as I stared into the mirror, telling myself to sober up. As if that would do anything.
And glorious flashes of tumbling in bed with Dustin washed over my thoughts, images I wished I could decipher as they twirled in my mind deliciously. Though there were some I wished were lost with the others, some of me crying over things I couldn’t tell you. It was probably something ridiculous that I went on about in my drunken stupor.
It wasn’t until I heaved forward in a desperate attempt to run to the bathroom that I realized I was naked and back in the room we were staying in at Edward’s place.
My eyes shifted to the lump beside me. Dustin’s blonde hair spewed onto the pillow as his bare butt brushed the open air. He was oddly sleeping, which I thought succubus didn’t do.
He groaned slightly, tossing over. While I was fairly certain that we had had sex last night, what with my spark of memories flooding in my mind like splats of paint, I still found myself covering my eyes as if not to see anything.
I was instantly rushing into the bathroom as the urge to vomit coiled in my throat and then heaved into the toilet as if everything I had eaten in the last week was now coming out of me all at once. The smell made the nausea in my stomach churn further, and the feint correlation to last night’s streets reeking of this only seemed to stir the feeling bubbling up from inside me.
It felt like I had been in there for hours, bare-naked, hurling into the toilet. A day could have passed, and I might not have known, too occupied by the constant chunks that fled from me.
Dustin had appeared out of what felt like nowhere, probably hearing the ear-curling gags echoing from the bathroom. Ihadn’t even heard him open the door, too busy throwing up my left kidney.
“Are you okay?” He sat himself down next to me, or rather to the side of me, where he gently stroked my back in circles to comfort me. “I sensed you weren’t feeling good.”
And in between hurls of throw-up, I was almost in disbelief that someone like him would just be sitting on the floor caressing me while I unattractively so tossed up what smelt like rancid tequila. Or-god, I don’t even know what it smelt like. All I did know was that it couldn’t have smelt or looked pretty.
And here he was, taking care of me.
