Page 27 of Bellamy
Bellamy’s chest softly rose and fell with his breaths as he slept. Demons guarded the door, and the window was barred shut. There was no balcony. No way for him to escape, even if he had the strength to do so. Though nicer than the dungeon, it was still a cell.
I ghosted my fingers over his hair, not touching him but wishing I could. I wouldn’t be able to stop if I did. He was devastating in his beauty. His scent was better than any perfume, and his voice was like every beautiful note ever played on the finest instruments had all fused together in a single, soul-moving decibel.
Why hadn’t his brothers come for him?
My blood boiled.
Unlike Asa and Belphegor, who needed portals or teleportation stones to move between realms, demons of a certain power level could instantly travel from one to the other. We could take others with us too, which was one way they used me. I was their getaway car, providing them an easy escape route when shit got crazy.
Another advantage? It allowed me a bit of freedom. Asa had spies who kept tabs on who left and entered the underworld, but I could often sneak under their radar. And Asa wouldn’t notice my absence since he was currently banging two males in his room on the other side of the castle.
I thought of Echo Bay.
The warding around the barrier prevented me from teleporting directly into the Nephilim’s mansion, plus extra protections had been added after we’d breached it the first time. There was no way for me to locate it, let alone break in. Therefore, I decided to pop into town, and with any luck, the brothers would be hunting so I could track one of them down.
What would I do if I found them? Hopefully talk some damn sense into them before they tried to snap me like a twig.
I materialized in a dark alleyway at the edge of Main Street. Humans dined in restaurants along the harbor and others visited boutiques that were nearing closing time. I stepped out from the alley and strolled down the sidewalk. Bars advertised “ladies’ night” with half-price drinks and dollar margaritas.
Three months ago, the entire world had been thrown into chaos with literal monsters roaming the streets and tearing humans apart. Purah had summoned the dead, and those vicious, walking corpses had made headlines and flashed all over news stations as proof that the zombie apocalypse, once believed to be pure fiction, was, in fact, reality.
Freaking Purah and his witchlike cackle. The creepy bastard.
I didn’t sense any other demons nearby, and since the Nephilim patrolled Echo Bay every night to kill said demons, I figured they weren’t around at the moment. So I went to the only other place that came to mind.
Krave. A nightclub for supernatural beings. A place where werewolves, vampires, reapers, faeries, and even demons could go to let off some steam and relax without worrying about being discovered by humans.
Interestingly enough, there was also a “no violence” policy once you stepped foot into the club. Meaning, if the Nephilim brotherswerethere, they wouldn’t be able to sic their attack dog—aka Galen—on me.
Yay for small favors.
A burly werewolf stood outside the entrance. At my approach, he narrowed his eyes. I nodded to him as I passed, and he didn’t stop me. They really did let demons inside. So that was good, at least.
It was the first time I’d ever actually gone into the club. I normally observed from afar. Watchedhimas he came to hook up and forcing myself not to barge in and rip the person he was fucking apart. Not that I had any room to talk.
The bass of the music vibrated in my chest as I stepped farther into the club.
A fusion of sex, incense, and the sweet notes of ambrosia and liquor perforated the air. A sea of bodies rippled on the dance floor, the flashing lights above them highlighting their forms as they danced, kissed, and groped. Half-naked females danced on raised platforms, wearing nothing but G-strings and stiletto heels. Two men swayed in a cage hanging over the crowd, one behind the other and kissing his neck, hands skimming over slick abs.
Someone grabbed the back of my hair and yanked me backward. I then met a pair of angry eyes. With his vibrant red hair and eyebrow, nose, and lip piercings, he looked like a punk. He had the attitude to match.
“Greed,” I said, keeping a cool tone. “Lovely to see you.”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Castor growled, tightening his grip on my hair. He was shaking. Couldn’t blame him for being so aggressive. I had nearly killed his mate last year when I plunged a dagger into Kyo’s back. And I might’ve caused them some trouble since then too. Just a little bit.
“Let him go, Castor,” the more reasonable of the Nephilim brothers said as he approached. Alastair’s hair was such a pale shade of blond it looked white, allowing the neon lights to reflect in the strands. Purple, blue, and red.
“Let him go?” Castor asked, voice gravelly. “Why the hell would I do that, Al? This fucker is gonna die tonight.”
“That’s an order,” Alastair snapped.
Instantly, Castor dropped his hand from my hair. That seething rage didn’t dissipate, though, as his eyes burned into me. Kyo stepped up beside him and placed a hand on Castor’s lower back. There was an instant change in Greed with the arrival of his mate, a calmness that smoothed his sharp edge.
I understood that feeling all too well. It was why I’d tracked these godforsaken bastards down. I felt nothing for any of them. But Bellamy was a different story.
“We should go somewhere more private,” I said to Alastair. “We have something to discuss.”
“The only thing we’ll be discussing is how best to kill you,” Castor said.
