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I hesitated, the truth lodging in my throat. The tattoo industry was everything to me. I loved the art. I loved the customers. It was only Ivan I couldn’t stand at Empire Decay Ink. “As long as Ivan never comes back, I’m okay with the place. I don’t know how to work for anyone else.” I stood, my body protesting every movement as I shuffled past her.
“Babe,” Addie’s voice followed me. “If you can work for Ivan, you can work foranyone.”
I stopped at the entrance to the hallway, turning back to face her. The words came out quiet and faint, “I don’t think I can bear to follow anyone ever again.”
Something flared in Addie’s eyes—determination, maybe even a hint of pity. “Understandable. I might know someone who can help with the paperwork.”
“Huh?” My exhausted brain struggled to keep up.
“Let me ask around about Legal Mages.” There was an edge of urgency in her tone as she spoke. This was Addie on a mission; I knew the signs. “We’ll see what we can get done quick and easy.”
It would have been exciting—the idea of getting a mage to take care of the legal paperwork and bypass all the questions I couldn’t answer—but exhaustion won out. The promise of a shower and my safe, warm bed beckoned. As I turned away, a chill ran down my spine.The feeling of safety, of home… it was something I never thought I’d experience again.
Not even after being homeless on the streets.
But as I made my way down the hall, Ivan’s face flashed in my mind. The Devil’s Delirium building loomed in my thoughts, a specter I couldn’t shake. I was alive, against all odds.
The questions swirled in my mind as I stepped into the bathroom, haunting me even as the warm water washed over my battered body. I was home. But I couldn’t shake the odd feeling inside. I didn’t know what it meant. Maybe it was just an echo of Ivan’s taunting deep in my head.
Haha! Silly girl. You’ll never get away from me.
Maybe time would dim that voice. Or perhaps this was just the calm before another storm.
I’d never lived in clear skies before.
Chapter Thirty-Three: Echoes of Rebellion
Maverick
Tearing myself away fromTess and our plans for the rest of the night was unsettlingly difficult. It wasn’t uncommon for Lux and Stone to get a little nervous, and when they did, they liked to call these meetings. Half the time, they were more like group therapy sessions. Nothing substantial whatsoever other than psychological support and group bonding.
Normally, I’d be happy to eat, drink and be merry with my best friends to help them fortify their psyches. Tonight, I was absolutely livid at the idea I’d been interrupted for anything less than the impendingapocalypse.
I phased into the kitchen, mad as a March hare, the acrid taste of frustration on my tongue. With the sudden shift in temperature from the cool night air to the stuffy warmth of the house, my skin prickled, ramping up the frustration deep in my gut. A low murmur drifted from the living room, punctuated by the occasional clink of glass on wood. I moved toward the sound, my footsteps echoing off the Italian tile floor.
Stone and Lux sat with Cross and Zara around the coffee table, each nursing a bottle of beer and all heads turned to me. The sharp, hoppy scent hung in the air, along with the faint aroma of various pizzas they’d ordered for the meeting, boxes stacked in the corner. Two boxes remained left over for me.
Stone’s leg bounced nervously, causing the couch to creak rhythmically. Lux’s fingers drummed an erratic pattern on his bottle, creating a soft tapping sound that seemed to echo my irritation.
I turned around to grab a drink from the fridge for myself, the cool metal handle a stark contrast to my heated mood. “Anyone need another yet?” I called over my shoulder, my voice sounding more strained than I intended.
“Right here,” Cross yelled back, his deep voice cutting through the tension.
I grabbed two bottles from the fridge, the glass slick with condensation, and brought them back into the living room. As I passed one to Cross, who I sat next to across from Stone, I caught a whiff of his nervousness. It wasn’t like him, but I still wasn’t moved. I could have had Tess’s hands all over me by now. The couch sagged beneath our combined weight, springs groaning in protest. Might be time for a new one.
“This better be good,” I growled, unable to keep the edge from my voice. “I was about to—”
“We don’t want to know what you were about to do,” Stone interrupted, his eyes flashing red with ire. The lamp behind shined in my face, shrouding him in darkness, accentuating the worry lines. “Zara has some news from Hell.”
The room fell silent, save for the soft hiss of carbonation from the freshly opened beers. All eyes turned to Zara, her usually vibrant self subdued by whatever information she was about to share. The air seemed to thicken, charged with anticipation and a hint of fear. I couldn’t bear it.
“Oh does she?” I smiled at her, the sarcasm dripping from my voice like honey. “Please tell me Beelzebub and Gabriel have formed an alliance, and now there are huge riots.”
Zara smirked at me and shook her head, her dark hair bouncing slightly with the movement. “My friend in the fae realm heard whispers of a huge commotion in the seraphim sector.” Her eyes darted between us, reflecting the dim lamplight. “She couldn’t get details, but apparently, the Guard might be cracking down hard on the mortal plane.”
The room grew colder as her words sank in. I could almost hear the collective intake of breath from the others.
“Rumors from the fae? Oh how reliable.” My sarcasm reminded everyone of the truth, my fingers picking at the label around my beer bottle. Zara narrowed her eyes at me playfully, a hint of amusement bouncing in their depths. It wasn’t very diplomatic of me, but when had I ever been? She knew I had a point.
