Page 22 of Mystic


  Is this a challenge—a trick—or are they just that overconfident we wouldn’t dare try to crash?

  Figuring we’ll find out either way, we push through the wall that’s not really a wall, and creep through the tunnel with a step that, while purposely light, still manages to amplify in a series of dull, heavy thuds that are sure to alert them.

  It’s not by coincidence that the Richters crafted the entrance of tin.

  Nothing they do is an accident.

  Nothing except me, that is.

  According to Cade, I’m the biggest, most regretful mistake Leandro’s ever made.

  And if I do nothing else with my life, I vow to prove him right.

  He has no idea just how much he’ll come to regret the violence he wrought on my mother the day he conjured me.

  Has no idea of my vow to make sure he pays.

  My hands automatically curl into fists. The thought alone enough to spark the bit of stolen darkness within me.

  It begins with a glimmer that soon morphs into a deeply rooted thrum that continues to grow and expand until my entire body is alive with a buzzing intensity that’s hard to contain.

  I fight to steady my breath—settle my limbs. With Daire right beside me, I can’t afford to let on.

  Still, this must be what Cade feels when he transforms into the demon version of himself.

  Uncaged.

  Liberated.

  Released of all moral obligations—exceeding all physical limits.

  “You okay?” Daire asks, her voice no more than a whisper, but still it seems to echo off the walls, and reverberate in my head.

  I inhale a deep breath, steal a hasty glance at my body. “Yeah. Fine,” I mumble, surprised to find I’m still me. Black sweater. Dark jeans. No talons—no tail—no scaly feet—and yet, there’s no denying the presence of the creature now awakened within me.

  Daire casts a concerned look my way, but continues toward the mouth of the den, where the two of us stand in the entrance, observing a party in full swing. Everyone oblivious to our presence.

  Everyone except Coyote, that is.

  With a snarling snout and red glowing eyes, he springs into the air and lunges straight for my throat. His irrepressible bloodlust fueled by the memory of the prior feasts he’s made of my flesh.

  Somewhere nearby a girl screams.

  Another one squeals.

  As the growling beast roars toward me with the sole intent to kill.

  Instinctively, Daire leaps between us—tries to intervene. Spurred by the knowledge that as Cade’s spirit animal, the wounds Coyote inflicts on me bear no effect on my twin.

  But the darkness inside me is strumming.

  Thrumming.

  Leaving me with unknowable strength, and lightning-fast reflexes.

  Long before Daire can inject herself into the fight—long before Coyote can sink his fangs into my flesh—I catch him in midflight and shove my way through the crowd. Shouting, “Where’s Cade?” as the snarling Coyote hangs from my fist.

  The drunken throng parts before me, leaving me a clear view of Leandro lounging in an oversized chair with two scantily clad women perched one on each leg.

  He tilts his head back, appraises me from over the bridge of his nose. Unceremoniously unloading the women so carelessly they fall to their knees.

  “Cade’s not here,” he says, switching his gaze from me, to Coyote, to Daire just beside me. Settling on my creepy cousin Gabe sitting on the couch just opposite, sandwiched between two attentive blondes, each massaging a shoulder, and another standing behind him, softly kneading his neck. His fiancée Marliz nowhere in sight.

  With a pointed look from Leandro, Gabe unloads the women in a similar fashion. Sending them away without a second glance, he leaps from his seat as though he’s about to evict me, when Leandro orders him to stand down.

  “Where is he?” I ask. “Where’s Cade?”

  Leandro settles deeper into the cushions, folds his hands behind his head, and looks between the two of us as though deeply intrigued by the scene unfolding before him.

  “Where is he?” Daire scowls. “Taking the night off along with all the other demons?” She widens her stance, fists her hands by her sides. Wanting him to know that while she may be deceptively slim of build, while she may be a girl, she is not one to be messed with.

  Coyote continues to whimper and thrash, but my grip is strong, it’s a minor irritation at best. “I don’t have all night,” I say. “Tell me where Cade is, and Coyote might live.”

  At that, Gabe cracks a slow, feral smile that never comes anywhere close to reaching his eyes. “You’re funny.” His gaze rakes a steady path from my head to my feet. Nodding toward Leandro, he adds, “I had no idea he was so funny.”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” I clench my fist tighter, squeezing Coyote so hard, his tongue flops uselessly out the side of his snout as his eyes begin to bulge from their sockets.

  “I’m beginning to believe it,” Leandro says, studying me with renewed interest. “You sure you want to kill him?” He motions toward Coyote as though he has no real stake in the outcome either way.

  He’s bluffing. I’ve no doubt. He must be aware of the connection between Coyote and Cade.

  I glance at the beast. Reminded of his savage attacks. How he dumped me in the most hellish dimension imaginable, and how he seemed to relish the task.

  While the urge to see the light in his eyes permanently dimmed is certainly strong, in the end, common sense wins.

  My goal is to keep Cade alive. Or at least it’s my goal for tonight. Which means I can’t risk killing Coyote until I’m sure it won’t bear me any ill effect.

  “Not today.” I drop the beast to my feet, grinning with pleasure as I watch him slink and cower away.

  “A wise decision.” Leandro steeples his hands at his chest as he continues to appraise me. “So, it seems another one has risen from the dead.”

  He shifts his focus to Daire, staring at her with an intensity that makes me regret letting go of Coyote. If nothing else, I could’ve used him as leverage. But now, if he tries anything, I’ll have to rely on my wits, my strength, and the beast now awakened within me.

  “First your girlfriend, the Seeker, and now you. And yet, it seems you’ve come back new and improved. How’d you manage it, anyway? I truly am curious.” He folds his hands around his knee, as though settling in for a really good yarn.

  “Guess your prodigal son failed. Again,” Daire says, glaring at him with a hate-filled gaze.

  “And it seems I’ve underestimated his twin.” Leandro uncrosses his legs, slides to the edge of his seat. “Believe me, it’s a mistake I won’t make again.” He shifts his gaze to his flashy gold watch, rubbing his palms together as he says, “Year’s almost over.” He looks right at me. “Still, it’s never too late to make a new start. How ’bout I give you your old job back? I’ll even throw in a pay raise. What do you say?”

  If I didn’t know what I know, if I was still blissfully uninformed of how I came into this world, the offer would be undeniably tempting. I’m desperately in need of a large cash infusion. Rent on my shithole apartment is about to come due, and I have no idea how I’ll cover it. Still, there’s no going back. No way to un-know what I know.

  “What’s that they say about friends and enemies and keeping them close?” I hold his gaze for a moment, then peer past his shoulder, trying to see into the rooms just beyond, wondering if Cade might be hiding in one.

  “You calling us enemies?” Leandro looks thoughtful, if not vaguely offended.

  “We’re certainly not friends.” I lift my shoulders, take a quick glance at Daire who’s still glaring between Leandro and Gabe.

  “How about family?” Gabe says, his burst of laughter cut short with a sharp look from Leandro.

  “I’m a Whitefeather, not a Richter,” I say.

  “You’re half Richter.” Leandro’s eyes grow dark as a deep crease forms over his brow. “I brought
you into this world. Never forget that.”

  “I don’t think you have to worry about that. The truth of my existence is not something I’m apt to forget.” My tone holds the unmistakable promise of the threat I plan to make good on. “Besides, the half you’re talking about—it’s not the half that counts.” I narrow my lids until my gaze becomes as hooded as his.

  “Don’t be so sure.” Leandro leans back again, seemingly satisfied with the exchange, which irks me to no end. Making him happy was never my intention. Destroying him is.

  “I’m the mistake you will live to regret.” I shoot him a challenging gaze, hoping he’ll take the bait.

  Unable to put a name to the vague flicker of emotion that crosses his face when he says, “Don’t be so sure of that either.” He surveys me a long moment, then switches his focus to Daire. “He’s not back there.”

  Daire ignores him, moves to slip past him.

  “I already told you, he’s not here.” His voice betrays his growing annoyance with her.

  “Yeah, well, you’re not exactly a fountain of truth,” Daire says. “So I figured I’d see for myself.”

  “And you weren’t exactly on the guest list,” Leandro snaps. “And it’s not our policy to tolerate crashers.”

  His words hint at an unspoken threat, and I insert myself between them, poised to intervene. Just give me a reason.

  “But, in this case…” Leandro’s lips widen into a smile, though it starts and stops there. “I’ll make an exception.” His gaze settles on me. “I’d hate to get Dace any more worked up than he already is. I’m not sure any of us are ready to see his inner beast.”

  His eyes flash on mine and all I can think is, he knows!

  He knows what I’ve done.

  He can sense it inside me.

  And the worst part is, he likes what he sees.

  I glance at Daire, nod for her to proceed. Just about to join her, when I say, “Cade and Coyote travel as a pack. You can’t tell me he’s not here.”

  “Not tonight, bro.” Gabe snorts, the sound loud, crude, and rude, just like he is. “Dude’s got a date.”

  I can feel Leandro studying me, and though I do my best to hide my alarm, I’m not sure it worked.

  Especially when I see the way his eyes glint when he says, “Coyote tends to scare the girls away. So Cade decided to move his private party elsewhere.”

  I take a moment to absorb the words, searching for even the slightest speck of truth. “And yet these girls aren’t scared?” I motion to the surrounding crowd that’s just now starting to venture back into the room.

  “This is no ordinary girl.” Leandro shrugs, studies me through slitted lids. “She hasn’t been, how should I say—?” He looks to Gabe to supply the word for him, as I peer past his shoulder to see Daire sneaking into and out of the back room with empty hands and shaking head.

  “Indoctrinated.” Gabe leans forward, takes a sip of his drink.

  “Indoctrinated.” Leandro bobs his head as though he’s still not quite satisfied. But then deciding to go with it, he says, “Anyway, you should know all about that. If I’m not mistaken, and believe me, I never am, the two of you were once an item.”

  Daire looks at me with a wide, stricken gaze. And it’s only a second later when she’s spinning on her heel, racing from the room, as I linger long enough to shout, “Where’d they go? Tell me—now!”

  Leandro meets my demand with an empty grin, as Gabe laughs into his drink.

  Without another word, I’m chasing after Daire, with Leandro’s voice calling out from behind me, “You can’t escape me, son! Like it or not, you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me. I made you. I’m in you. Anyone can see it. Even with the mask, it’s right there in your eyes.”

  forty-one

  Daire

  When Jacy and Crickett turn the corner before me and push into the bathroom, I tell Dace I’ll be right back, and push in behind them. Thinking that as Phyre’s new BFFs, there’s a pretty good chance they might be able to tell me where to find them.

  They settle before the mirror. Removing their masks, they place them on the long metal shelf and tend to their hair. Jacy adjusts the slant of her side-swept bangs, while Crickett fluffs at her ends, and I stand just behind them, trying not to choke on the perfumed puffs of alcohol fumes wafting off them.

  “Where’s Phyre?” I ask, sparing no time for small talk.

  They continue their primping, allowing a few beats to pass before I can truly confirm they are bent on ignoring me.

  “Just tell me where to find her, and I won’t bother you again,” I bargain, only to have them pretend not to hear.

  If I wasn’t so pressed for time, I’d probably be impressed with their level of deep concentration and commitment. But, as it stands, I’m a little under the gun. And while I know I shouldn’t do it, while Paloma warned me early on about the dangers of using my magick in immature ways, I can’t think of any other way to get through to them.

  So the second the lip gloss wands emerge from their respective purses—perfectly timed, as though they rehearsed it (which is amazing in and of itself considering their current state of drunkenness)—I steel my focus, raise my hand, and drag both those wands clear along the sides of their cheeks. Painting wide stripes of berry and pink that drag from lip to ear, before flinging them to the opposite side of the room where they crash against the wall and land on the filthy tiled floor.

  “You ready to acknowledge me and tell me where Phyre went with Cade?” I allow two full seconds for them to consider. “’Cause if not, the purses go next. And you’ll quickly follow.”

  They look at each other in silent communion, and Jacy is the first to fold. “She’s taken your place,” she says, scowling as she overenunciates the third word.

  My place?

  I glance in the mirror, surprised to see what they see. I’d almost forgotten I’m wearing Lita’s Marilyn mask. And they’re so far gone, they’ve mistaken me for her.

  “She’s hooking up with Cade—not like it’s any of your business. I mean, excuse me, but—aren’t you the one who dumped him?” Jacy places her hand on her hip, teeters on her heels, and uses that same hand to right herself again.

  “Exactly where is she meeting him?” I switch my focus between them, voicing it more like a demand than a question.

  They glance at each other, silently weighing whether or not they should tell me. So I give them a little nudge and lift Crickett’s purse right off the sink’s edge and into my hand. Planning to hold it hostage until someone responds.

  “Outside,” she says, warily eyeing her faux designer handbag now in my possession.

  “Where outside?” I dangle the bag before her.

  “Outside by the chain-link fence. Supposed to be some kind of sacred, romantic space or something. Look—whatever. Just—can I have my freaking purse back?”

  I’m about to hand it over, when I notice the shiny blue tourmaline pendant she wears at her neck. “Where’d you get that?” I ask, having to force my gaze away in order to return my focus to them.

  Cricket shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “Sheesh, were you always this annoying?” She looks to Jacy for the answer.

  “Where’d you get it?” I lift her purse higher, swing it from its short vinyl strap.

  “The swag bag. Everyone got one at the door. Okay? Happy now?” Crickett heaves a dramatic sigh, and swipes a hand forward, snatching her purse from my grip.

  “No,” I say, that doesn’t make me happy at all. “But it helps.” I race out the door, eager to tell Dace what I learned—only to find Dace isn’t there.

  I push through the mob of inebriated New Year’s revelers, searching for Dace among them, but he’s nowhere in sight. And now that I know what I know, there’s no time to search for him. All I can do is hope he’s okay as I make for Phyre and Cade.

  I plow through the exit, racing for the chain-link fence with the small gold lock clinging to it. Phyre must’ve been watching us the ni
ght I put it there. There’s no other way she could’ve known it held any significant meaning.

  And sure enough, the moment it springs into view, I find her right where I expected.

  Her back pressed against the fence, her cat mask discarded at her feet, as Cade looms before her.

  She hooks an arm around his neck and pulls him in close, angling his face toward hers, about to make contact, when I rush up behind them, yank hard on Cade’s coat, and jerk him right off her.

  “What’re you—crazy?” she shouts, her expression ranging from startled to fury, the moment she sees that it’s me. Appealing to Cade when she says, “Do something! Stop her—make her go away!”

  But Cade just stands there and grins. “Never figured you for the jealous type, Santos.” He dips his head, swipes a hand through his hair. “But I’m afraid I have a bit of bad news. Thing is, I’m just not that into you.” He blows his cheeks out, pausing long enough for the words to sink in—the better to devastate me. “Yes, I know it’s you, Seeker. Nice try with the switching of the masks. While you might be able to fool dumb and dumber in there.” He hooks a thumb toward the club—a thinly veiled reference to Jacy and Crickett that doesn’t make sense.

  How could he possibly know they directed me here?

  Though I barely have time to ponder, before he goes on to say, “Your little ruse is far too sophomoric to fool someone like me. You see, I can smell your Raven scent a mile away. And I have to tell you, Seeker, this game you insist on playing is getting more than a little tiresome. That’s the second time you’ve interrupted Phyre and me, and it’s really beginning to grate. If you want to sit back and watch, I got no problem with that. Hell, you might even learn a few things. But if you interfere one more time—you die. And this time for good. Understood?”

  With an annoyed shake of his head, he turns back to Phyre who’s waiting for him with glassy eyes and glistening lips.

  He centers himself before her, and she hooks a leg around his, pulling him in, as he angles in for the kiss. And despite his warning, I yank on his coat once again, shouting, “You kiss her—you die!”