Dangerous Creatures(81)

Nox bent his face toward hers as he caught his own breath, letting his lips graze her cheek one last time.

Then Nox let go of Ridley, pushing her toward Sampson. “You have to go, Little Siren.”

“You mean we have to go.” She was still holding his hand.

Sampson turned away, trying to give Nox a moment alone with her while still keeping the fire at bay.

There wasn’t much time.

“That’s not part of the plan. Someone has to stick around and face Silas, or he won’t believe the two of you are dead,” Nox said.

“No, I already told you. We talked about this. I’m not leaving you in here. Not with them.”

“I’ll be right behind you, or close enough. But I need to make a dramatic exit for Silas’ benefit. I can’t do that with you on my arm. I have to go out the main doors. I’ll see you in the outside world, when it’s safe again.”

“You’re lying,” she said.

It was true.

Nox looked up to the blackened ceiling beams. How long before these rafters fall? He had to make her understand. “When Silas finds out you’re alive, he’ll never stop looking for you. I can help you, but only if I stay. You have to get out of New York. Go anywhere you want, as long as it’s far away from here.”

Light fixtures began to pop, one at a time.

Old wine bottles began to explode and ignite.

Another support beam crashed against the floor behind them.

The club was coming down.

Ridley bit her lip. “What about my marker? What about what I owe you? Or have you forgotten?”

Nox reached into his pocket and pulled something out, pressing it into her palm. “Take it. It’s yours.”

Her fingers curled around what looked like a harmless poker chip. “Nox,” she said.

“I didn’t forget. I remember every single thing about you,” Nox said gently. “And you don’t owe me anything. You never will.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“You got me my drummer, remember?”

“I’m not talking about that marker, and you know it.”

Nox put his arms around her, pulling her close. “What you owe me, Little Siren—what you owed me all along—wasn’t something that should be won in a game. Not even when you’re playing for TFPs.”

Her voice was trembling. “It was a house marker. It was your call, Nox. You could have taken anything you wanted. Anything I had to give.”

“I know,” Nox said. I know better than anyone. I’ve thought about it a thousand times, every day. “I wish I’d never won it. I wish I hadn’t made you come here. I wish I hadn’t even asked you for the drummer. It was wrong, all of it. I’m sorry.” The truth of his words was undeniable, as well as the emotion behind them.

Ridley leaned and tossed the chip as hard as she could, flinging it into the hot red heart of the fire.

A tear rolled down her cheek. She wiped it with the back of her soot-streaked hand. “I forgive you.”

A Siren’s tear.

He’d only seen a Siren cry once. His mother, on the day Abraham Ravenwood took her from him. He’d never forgotten that moment.

And I’ll never forget this one.

Nox didn’t watch as Sampson carried her out the back door. The deception was a good one; Ridley was limp as a rag and covered in soot. Silas and his men would never know a heart was still beating in the little Siren’s chest.

It was an unsettling sight.

I might never see her again. I don’t want to remember her like that. He touched his fingers together, still wet from her tears, wonderingly.

I want to remember this.

Nox walked back toward the doors of the club, probably for the very last time.



By the time he had finally made it out, there was nothing left of Sirene. He watched the firefighters saturate the framework and the remaining roof, if only to keep the fire from spreading to nearby buildings.

Mortal fires, Mortal firefighters. They were remarkably good at their job. Too bad they wouldn’t remember any of it tomorrow.

A black SUV pulled up to the curb behind him.

The tinted window rolled down, and Silas Ravenwood stared back at him from underneath his fedora. He glanced at what was left of the club. “Hope you’ve got insurance, kid.”

You just have to bluff one more hand.

For her.

Nox thought about his mother, and the night he found out his father was dead. He thought about every terrible thing that had ever happened in his miserable life. Then he remembered the one thing that was even more painful—the way he’d felt when he thought of Ridley in chains, just like his mother in a cage.

And the way he felt now.

Totally and completely empty.

Nox raised his bloodshot eyes to meet Silas’ empty ones. “What do you want, Silas?” He gestured at the club. “I’m out. I’ve got nothing left for you to take.”

Silas lit a cigar and climbed out of the car. He walked over to Nox and brushed the ash off the shoulder of Nox’s burnt shirt. “I hate hearing you talk like that, kid. There’s always something left to take.”

Fear shot through Nox’s veins.

Don’t react.

The Incubus slung his arm around Nox’s neck, then tightened it.