Witch Undecided: The Thirteenth Sign Book 2 Page 17

  It’s my curse for looking so young but having a mature mind. “Have I told you how much I hate the cold?”

  “Not the best weather for pixies,” Elijah agrees.

  “My wings ache.”

  “You don’t have wings.”

  “Thanks for reminding me.”

  He chuckles and this time it reaches his eyes. He’s been somber, worried, quiet. Not the Elijah I know.

  I pick up my tea and take a sip, hoping it’ll thaw my insides. “You’re worrying about her again, aren’t ya?”

  “Hmmm?” He frowns. “No.”

  “But ya knew exactly who I was talking about.”

  He sighs. “Probably because she’s all you talk about.”

  “And all you think about.” I smirk at him over the rim of my mug.

  His frown deepens. “It’s not like that. I care for Cora and I want her to be safe. We need her to be safe, but that’s all.”

  “Is it?”

  He looks out the window, ignoring my question. What is his deal? He has women from time to time. A week here and a week there, but he’s never been in a relationship, not as long as I’ve known him. I’d say it was a time issue, but no, Elijah has time for a lover if he wants one, and I’m not blind, I see the way he looks at Cora in unguarded moments. He wants her, but he keeps his distance.

  I’m intrigued.

  “Cora’s probably real pissed at you for not calling.” I look at him from beneath my lashes, scoping him out for an emotional reaction.

  Nothing. No tightening of the jaw or twitch of the brow to indicate this bothers him.

  “I don’t doubt it,” he says.

  And me. She’ll be pissed at me too. I should have gone to see her after…after Charlotte betrayed me…us. Fuck, I loved that woman. Every time I think about what happened, lava bubbles in my stomach.

  “Eat your food, Bramble,” Elijah says. “I’ve paid for this room for two nights. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  My gaze shoots up to meet his. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re staying here.”

  Panic tightens my gut. “Like hell I am.”

  His eyes blaze with a rare flash of anger. “I’ll let you tag along, but you’ll do as you’re told. Do you understand me?”

  I push him from time to time, it’s what I do, but I know when to stop. Elijah is chill most of the time, but there’s an inferno beneath the surface waiting to be ignited. I might be chilly, but I’m not eager to get burned.

  I temper my tone. “I don’t like you going in alone.”

  He sighs and nods. “I’ll be fine, but you need to stay here.”

  The panic in my gut twists into a knot. I recognize this play. “You want me to stay behind in case something goes wrong.”

  His mouth tightens. “Yes.”

  I sit up straighter. “That’s the only reason you let me tag along, isn’t it?”

  He makes a sound of exasperation. “It’s more than that, Bramble, and you know it. When have I ever asked you to hang back?”

  He has a point. But I don’t like this. I don’t like him going off alone. Not now. Not here. Not for this. But I get why he needs me to hang back.

  “If you’re not back in forty-eight hours, I’m coming after you.”

  He leans forward in his seat, his expression stern and forbidding. “If I’m not back in forty-eight hours, you need to get out of here.”

  Charlotte betrayed me, but Elijah’s always there for me. A surrogate father. A mentor. A friend.

  So I nod and agree with the words coming out of his mouth, because that’s what he wants to see, but it’s a lie.

  There is no way I’m leaving him behind.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Cora

  We were back outside The Order. The music was pumping, outdoor heaters melting the ice in the air so that crazy, unsuspecting humans could totter about in ridiculously high heels, mini-skirts, halter necks, and T-shirts totally inappropriate for the weather.

  The revenants must have been having a field day the last couple of weeks, getting their snack on.

  It made me sick.

  I pulled my jacket down to cover my weapons belt, not that I’d need them with a negation spell ready to launch off my tongue. We had no idea what the glamour covered so we’d dressed for a club, tight slacks and jeans and cleavage-showcasing tops. I’d pulled my hair back into a sleek French braid, Poppy had her bubble-gum tresses loose so they fell down her back in a curtain of delicious pink. Jessie had her curls piled on top of her head and Sloane had styled her silver pixie cut with a little hair wax, giving her a funky look and sharpening her cut-glass features. I couldn’t stop looking at her.

  We looked hot and kick-ass walking up to the club, not that anyone paid much attention to us. The Elites’ runes kept us from attracting too much attention.

  Lauris sat in the car, engine idling for a quick getaway in case the bracelets turned out to be duds. I’d filled him in on Bramble’s whereabouts and noted the relief on his face. He obviously cared about the pixie.

  Sloane reached the doors and the bouncer barely glanced at her as she walked through.

  “He’s human,” Poppy said to me.

  We followed Sloane inside the club. I’d expected a dark and masculine décor, but what we got were creams and golds that looked stunning in the strobe light. A circular dance floor could be accessed by going down two steps, and the periphery of the room was bars and seating. It looked like an arena and it probably was. A place for the revenants to circle and pick out their prey from the humans herded into the center of the room.

  Sloane and I peeled away from Poppy and Jessie. Were the bracelets working? There was no chance of knowing until we came across a warlock.

  The Elites had tattoos. Runes that acted like a warlock alarm. I needed to get myself one of those, because right now I was clueless. We had no idea how many warlocks were in the building tonight, or how many humans hosting revenants were present. Would the bracelets work on them?

  The crowd was thick, bodies moving to the music, making it impossible to get a good view of the place. Sloane reached for my hand and laced her fingers with mine, keeping a grip on me as we wove through the crowd.

  I’d never held hands like this before. It was distractingly nice. Like she was taking care of me, which was stupid because she was simply making sure we didn’t get split up, but…nice.

  A guy bumped into me, and Sloane tugged me closer, turning me to face her. One hand remained laced with mine, the other came up to rest on my hip. She pulled me close, head dipping so her mouth brushed my ear.

  “Warlock at two o’clock. Brown hair, cream blazer, black shirt. Is he looking at us?”

  I leaned in toward her and turned my head slightly, gaze flicking over the crowd until I spotted the warlock. His attention wasn’t on us, but on a group of women sipping cocktails. His lips curved in a smirk and then he jerked his head slightly. Something detached itself from the wall behind him—a crimson globule.

  A revenant.

  It formed quickly and drifted over to the group before circling to pick its prey.

  I turned my head back to Sloane and my lips brushed her neck. She sucked in a breath and my pulse sped up.

  “Revenant on the move.” My voice was a whisper, but the flex of her fingers on my hip told me she’d heard me just fine.

  She pulled back slightly, her cheek brushing mine, mouth millimeters from my lips.

  “Let’s go bag it,” she said.

  Fuck my pulse.

  I nodded mutely and allowed her to pull me across the floor. We headed in the direction of the group of women. There was a bar not too far behind them, so Sloane adjusted her trajectory to look as if we were headed there.

  She tucked in her chin and spoke into her comm as we went. “South side, middle bar. Revenant sighting.”

  The revenant slammed into one of the women, and she peeled away from the group and headed toward the shadows at the periphery of the clu
b.

  “Revenant on the move,” Sloane said into the comm.

  We got to the bar and pretended we were waiting to get served. The warlock was still people-watching and we didn’t want him seeing us follow the revenant. Long minutes passed and Sloane’s jaw began to tick. She was agitated, and to be honest so was I. We were in the Order’s territory with only thin leather strips and charms to shield us. The warlock hadn’t noticed us, but that didn’t necessarily mean the glamour was working. He might just have been focused on hunting for prey for the revenants.

  I needed to check on him.

  I turned so my back was resting on the bar and smiled up at Sloane flirtatiously before allowing my gaze to slide toward the warlock.

  The space where he’d been standing was empty.

  I tipped my head toward her. “We’re clear.”

  She nodded curtly and then led me away from the bar. We made a beeline for the shadows. Where had the woman gone?

  There was no restroom or exit here. No…wait… What was that? I moved closer to the wall where a door was built into it so seamlessly it was easily missed if someone wasn’t looking for it.

  “Sloane…” I pointed at the door.

  “Good catch.”

  “What have we got?” Poppy appeared at my side.

  Sloane indicated the hidden door.

  Poppy sashayed over, bubble-gum hair swaying against the small of her back, and then leaned up against the door all casual-like, drink in hand.

  “Won’t open under physical pressure,” she said into her glass.

  “No problem,” Jessie said. She joined Poppy, reaching around her to press her palm to the door. Her mouth moved with a spell and then the door popped open a crack.

  With a quick look behind us, we hurried through and into the narrow gray corridor beyond.

  “Secret space,” Jessie said. “Not creepy at all.”

  Sloane pulled a blade from beneath her jacket. “Let’s find the human.”

  The corridor led to a short flight of steps that ended in a landing and a door that was slightly ajar. A soft beeping drifted through the gap. Sloane caught my eye, her brow furrowing. That sound, rhythmic and even, reminded me of—

  “Heart monitor?” Sloane whispered.

  Jessie made a what-the-fuck face and then stepped forward to peer through the gap. She reared back, eyes wide.

  “Fuck.”

  “What is it?” Sloane shoved her aside to look into the room.

  “What?” Poppy and I asked in unison.

  Sloane backed up. “We need to leave. Now.”

  “Dammit, Sloane,” Poppy said.

  I needed to see. I slipped by Sloane and took a peek. My heart shot into my throat at the sight of the row of beds, each occupied by a human hooked up to a machine. Revenants hovered above each bed, pulsing as they fed. If they sensed us, they didn’t give any indication. This was an organized operation. Humans being used as feeding bags, vitals monitored to avoid death, but there was no sign of the woman we’d followed, and these humans looked gaunt and thin.

  I backed up and closed the door. “We can’t take on ten revenants. Sloane’s right, let’s go.”

  “Lost, ladies?” A smooth voice drifted up behind us. We spun to find a man staring up at us from the steps.

  Oval-faced with dark, cropped hair and dark eyes, this was the meat suit from our last visit.

  Fuck.

  He tipped his head to the side and then his gaze flicked to the door behind us. “Ah, I see you’ve found our medical room. Some people have no idea what their limits are, and alcohol poisoning can be so icky.” He smiled, showcasing even white teeth, and it hit me. He thought we were human. Regular human women who’d stumbled into this back area of the club. We wouldn’t be able to see the revenants, just the people hooked up to monitors.

  Still, a medical room in a club. He was reaching, but it meant we still had a way out of this.

  I turned to Sloane and smacked her on the arm. “I told you this wasn’t the way to the restroom.”

  Sloane’s frown cleared and she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, maybe if you didn’t drink so much you wouldn’t need to pee so often.”

  “My head hurts.” Poppy pouted.

  Jessie put her arm around Poppy’s shoulders. “Let’s get you home.”

  She made to move past the meat suit, but he held his ground.

  “What’s the rush?” He climbed up a couple of steps. “I’m sure we have something for that headache in the medical room.”

  Like a revenant with a straw. No thanks. I needed to act. Fast.

  “No!” I plastered a frown and a pout on my face. “What I’d like is to pee.” I tottered down the steps toward him and laced my arm through his. “You work here, right? You can show me to the restroom.” I tugged him down the steps. “Ooo, biceps.” I gave his arm a squeeze, then shot Sloane a look over my shoulder. “His biceps are bigger than yours, babe.”

  Sloane snorted. “Stop acting like you want cock.”

  We were at the bottom of the steps now and I was leading the confused meat suit toward the hidden door.

  “I do like cock.” I stroked the meat suit’s arm and winked at him. “Are all the staff as hot as you? I’m gonna have to tell all my friends at the sky-diving club about this place. Pure adrenaline junkies, addicted to danger, but they do love a little eye candy.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Danger, huh?”

  “Oh, you have no idea. Always getting into some kind of trouble.”

  That’s it, think of all the lovely chaos you can get from them.

  His body relaxed as we reached the hidden door. “How about I get you some free tickets for next weekend? How many?”

  Yes. “Can you do twenty?”

  His eyes lit up at the prospect of having twenty chaos-pumped women to feast off.

  “Is that too many?” I pouted. “Can you not swing it?”

  He brushed open the door and steered me out into the club. “Oh, I can swing it all right. Wait by the bar.”

  He hurried off and I sagged against Jessie. “Fuck.”

  “Quick thinking, dude,” Jessie said.

  “We need to go,” Sloane said.

  “Not without those tickets,” I said.

  She gave me a confused look.

  “There’s no way the four of us can take on all those revenants, but with a few more of these bracelets and several more witches playing human, we might be able to swing it.”

  “Smart,” Poppy said. Then to Jessie, “I told you she wasn’t a waste of space.”

  I raised both brows at Jessie and crossed my arms.

  She shrugged. “Fine, I take it back.”

  A guy approached us and held out an envelope. “Sam says he’s sorry he couldn’t deliver these himself, he has business to attend to, but he’ll book the VIP room for you and your friends next Friday night and is looking forward to seeing you.”

  I simpered at the guy. “Thank you.”

  He walked away.

  “Now we leave,” Sloane said. She glanced back at the hidden door. “But we’ll be back.”

  We would, because there was no way we were leaving those humans to be batteries for the revenant fuckers.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Lauris drove while we sat silently in the car. The mood was low. We’d failed tonight, almost been caught.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “I recognized one of the humans,” Jessie said. “Works at the local bookstore. Emily something. Loner.” She sucked in her cheeks. “I’m thinking those humans in that room have been there for a while. Maybe all loners. Humans that won’t be missed. Humans they can use up nice and slow.”

  “They’ve figured out how to keep them alive,” Sloane said softly. “Prolong the feeding. These humans must have a lot of turmoil inside them, darkness these fuckers can feed off.”

  “We need to get them out,” Poppy said from beside me.

  I squeezed her hand. “We will.”
<
br />   “I need a drink,” Jessie said.

  “Outliers?” Lauris asked.

  “Do it.”

  Yeah, I could use a drink too. Or maybe three.

  Ten minutes later we were pulling up outside Outliers. Lauris cut the engine, and we climbed out and headed toward the bar. He didn’t follow.

  “Hey?” I shot him a quizzical glance. “You coming?”

  He looked down the street. “Yeah. I’ve gotta go do something real quick first.”

  “We’re gonna need a ride back in an hour,” Sloane said.

  “I’ll be back.” He gave her a jaunty salute and sauntered off down the street.

  “Where the fuck is he going?” Jessie asked.

  Sloane watched him until he turned the corner at the bottom of the street. “Gargoyles may work for the witches, but we don’t own them. Let him have his privacy.” She headed for the bar. “And let us get a few drinks.”

  Outliers was heaving with supernaturals, and we had to shove our way to the bar where a man with long turquoise hair and turquoise-tinted skin served drinks like he was on fast play.

  He grinned at Sloane while pulling two pints and topping up a whiskey with Coke so effortlessly it made me want to applaud.

  “The usual?” he asked.

  Sloane nodded. “Yeah and—”

  His gaze flicked over us. “Martini extra dry, Guinness, and…” His gaze lingered on me. “Single malt whiskey, smooth.”

  “You got it,” Sloane said. “And double it all up, will ya, Lauter.”

  “On it.”

  He prepared the drinks in superfast mode, then shoved them on a tray and slid it toward Sloane. Jessie cleared a path to a miraculously empty table in the corner of the bar, which Poppy hurried over and claimed.

  I looked back at the bar where Lauter was still working like a demon, except he was fey. He had to be. “He’s like Leana.”

  “Who?” Sloane asked.

  “The owner of a café in Necro. She’s pink, like all over, and she instinctively knows what anyone who comes into the café wants to drink or eat.”