Dangerous Creatures(48)

“Another threat?” Nox asked.

“Your choice. Your coffin.”

“I’ll take your word for it, dead man. Considering I don’t actually own a coffin, myself.”

Necro growled. “You will, unless you hand over the people who put me here, boy. Especially the Siren and the hybrid Incubus.”

“So you’ve said.” Nox had to keep stalling. He’d already survived this long. He just needed more time to figure out his end game. It was one thing to pretend to do business with Abraham Ravenwood. It was another thing to spill blood on his behalf.

Necro grunted. “It’s not a request.”

Nox drew a breath. “Don’t be so dramatic. When haven’t I done everything you’ve asked?” It was true, as much as Nox hated to admit it. It hadn’t been easy, but he’d made a few suggestions here and there. He had delivered both the Siren and the Incubus, at least as far as the club. His form of Persuasion wasn’t as obvious as a lollipop, but it was infinitely more powerful. Not even the most powerful Natural in a millennium had seen him coming.

“If you had done everything I’d asked, you’d be digging graves by now.” Necro-Abraham did not look impressed.

“It’s happening. The plans are in motion. I can give you both of them if you give me enough time.” Just because Nox hadn’t decided what to do didn’t mean he couldn’t do it. He was his mother’s son. He believed in options.

“Then why are they still alive?”

It was a legitimate question. Nox had been wondering how to answer it. Stalling would only buy him a little time. Eventually, it would run out for everyone, and heads would roll.

His and theirs.

He gazed across the tracks. “You’re a greedy old man, Mr. Ravenwood. Greedy and impatient.”

“I’m a dead man, Lennox. You know what the problem is with dead men? We’ve got nothin’ to lose.”

“Sometimes,” Nox said, “neither do the living.”

Necro drew her switchblade out of her pocket, moving it up to her neck, guided by Abraham Ravenwood, the monster inside her.

She pressed the blade so hard against her skin that Nox was sure she was going to cut herself.

“Is that so, Lennox?” Abraham’s voice rasped from her lips.

Nox froze.

The point pushed deeper.

“I’ve made contact with Silas now. There are other Necromancers. I don’t need this one anymore. But you seem mighty fond of her.”

Do not react. Do not let him see you flinch.

The skin was beginning to separate beneath the point of the knife. A thin trickle of blood was racing down the pale skin of her neck.

If he thinks you care, she’ll be dead. You can’t do that to her.

Nox sighed. “If it means less time spent talking to you, I’ll slit her throat myself. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” Necro pulled the knife away from her skin and held it out to Nox with an eerie smile. “Be my guest,” she growled.

Nox stood there for a long moment. Then he tossed the cigar down onto the tracks.

The longer he stayed, the more danger his Necromancer would be in. He was powerless; all he could do was go.

It wasn’t a feeling Nox Gates liked.

As he walked away, all he could hear was the sound of bitter laughter echoing through the tunnel behind him.





CHAPTER 22


Damaged Soul


How’s it going, Rid?” Lena’s voice crackled over the speaker of Ridley’s new cell phone. Nick the Nerd Warrior was a good friend, and she had the reception to prove it.

Aside from that, there wasn’t much to feel good about. It had been a long day of work for Ridley, who, though no closer to finding her dream than before, had at least determined it did not involve Mortal hair.

Ridley sighed. “Great. Perfect. Like a dream come true, Cuz.”

Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday. So many days for nothing but work. Why do there have to be so many of them in a row?

Her feet hurt. Her hands had some kind of itchy rash, probably from disgusting scalp fungus. The heel had snapped off one of her black Louboutin ankle boots on the subway. Talking to her cousin only made it worse.

“Is New York amazing?” Lena asked.

“The most.” Ridley tried not to let Lena hear her sniffle. She held the phone away from her face and then brought it back to her ear again.

She caught a glimpse of Lucille Ball sitting in the doorway of the kitchen, judging her. Ridley made a face at the cat, but Lucille didn’t so much as move.

“Have you seen all the sights?” Lena sounded excited. It only made Ridley feel guiltier, like she should have returned one of her cousin’s fifty messages before now.

“Yep. That’s why they’re called sights, L. You see them.” She didn’t elaborate on what glam sights she had managed to see. Like the dirty subway tunnels, the old diner. Oily ladies’ scalps, reeking trash cans in the streets.

“What about the club scene? Charming your way into fabulous restaurants and amazing boutiques?”

“You know me. I’m practically out of lollipops.”

“I’m so jealous. All I do is study, study, study,” Lena complained. “Although I got into this writing class. It’s a poetry seminar, actually, and the professor is really great. I didn’t think…”