Shadows in the Silence
Page 3

The demonic energy crackling in the air grew stronger and stronger as we turned down an alley and headed toward a metal door beneath a sickly pale fluorescent light fixture. Standing in front of the door was a brawny demonic reaper who seemed completely human on the outside—no horns, wings, or protruding fangs—but his energy crackled the air around me and gave him away.
The bouncer put a hand on my shoulder, stopping me before I could walk by. He was sure to have sensed that I was human and I hoped that was all he sensed. I shook him off, aching to throw him off, but I bit my lip to quell my temper. Before I could say anything, Cadan stepped forward.
“She’s with me,” he said.
“Date?” the bouncer asked quizzically, his roving eyes gauging my body.
Cadan took my hand and winked at him. “Dinner.”
I squeezed his in return—but not for comfort. I dug my nails into his skin, a warning. His entire arm strained and quivered beneath my strength, and he yanked me closer to him. A warning for me. I took a deep breath and remembered that any display of power, even one so small as what I’d just done, would risk exposing what I truly was to the demonic reapers and get us both killed.
He started to lead me by, but the bouncer pressed a palm to Cadan’s chest, stopping him.
“I know your face,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “You’re Cadan. Bastian’s son.”
Cadan flashed a charming smile filled with bright white teeth. “Guilty.”
“Rumor has it you killed Bastian.”
His smile darkened. “Not just a rumor.”
“Rumor also has it you’re not to be trusted.”
“Also not just a rumor.”
“Makes me think I shouldn’t let you in here.”
“I’d like to see you try and stop me,” Cadan said coolly. “Rumor has it, I killed Bastian.”
I squeezed Cadan’s hand again, this time gently and for comfort. I wasn’t about to let this confrontation turn into a testosterone circus in which I’d have to save his ass.
“Step aside,” Cadan ordered.
The bouncer obeyed, at last taking Cadan seriously. Cadan pushed forward, dragging me along behind him, and I glanced back at the bouncer, whose eyes were glued to mine. They flashed red like flames for an instant and went out.
Inside the club, a dusky cobalt light filtered through billowing clouds of cigarette smoke. The walls were draped in black-blue curtains of satin and the sleek, dark tile floor vibrated with the steady, slow, heavy beat of music that was more electronic noise than anything. This place was unlike any club I’d ever imagined. No one was dancing to the music, but reapers—all demonic vir from what I could sense, some gathered in small groups talking, sitting at high tables and in booths, some moving past—glanced at Cadan and me curiously. A female stared into my face and slowed, narrowing her gaze as she approached, but Cadan tugged me close to him and flashed his opal eyes at the other vir as if to establish that I was his, making me extremely uncomfortable. She kept moving. I didn’t think she recognized me, but she certainly smelled that I was human, which was very likely to be a rare occurrence here. And she wasn’t the only one watching me.
2
CADAN’S LIPS BRUSHED MY EARS. “STAY CLOSE AND don’t make eye contact,” he whispered just loud enough for me to hear him. “The demonic are competitive, and that one was about to try and take you from me. You’d have to blow your cover to protect yourself.”
I took a deep breath. “Where is this friend of yours?”
“Over there.”
A few tables from where we stood sat a demonic reaper with scruffy, reddish hair that stuck up in thick tufts. His tangerine-orange eyes widened and brightened and then turned into a scowl when he spotted Cadan.
“I thought you said he was a friend?” I asked him, annoyed.
Cadan took my hand and led me directly to the table. “Most of my friends hate me.”
“Surprise, surprise.”
The other vir shot to his feet, nearly knocking his chair over as he scrambled up. “The hell are you doing here?” he spit, and his energy prickled defensively.
“Relax, Ronan,” Cadan said firmly. “I’m just here to talk.”
He gave me a scathing yet hungry look. “With a little meat-bag pet?”
I didn’t turn my eyes away from him or show any fear.
“Sit down, Ronan,” Cadan ordered. “Otherwise I’ll sit you down myself. I need a favor.”
Ronan obeyed, but he wasn’t pleased about it. “Why would I do any favor for you?”
“Not even for an old friend?”
“You’re not my friend!” Ronan snarled, eyes a blaze of vibrant orange. “You took Emelia from me!”
I rolled my eyes at Cadan. “You stole his girlfriend?”
“It’s your fault she’s dead!” Ronan shouted, hands tightening into fists on the table.
“You killed his girlfriend?”
“Ellie,” Cadan responded sharply without looking at me.
Ronan ignored me. “I told you I’d rip your face off if I ever saw it again. You and that bitch, Ivar. I’ll kill you both.”
“Ivar’s dead,” Cadan replied, his gaze faltering for a heartbeat, his jaw tightening. “I killed her myself.”
Ronan stared at him, astonished, and then huffed with indifference. “Well, it’s too late. Emelia’s dead and I blame you.”