Page 41 of Malice

“No, but I’m sure it has to do with everything that recently happened. It’s all off the beam!”

“Yeah,” I agree, not sure what she just said. “It really is.”

With Mabel’s help, I’m ready to go in less than an hour. My hair is down and straight today, and I’m wearing a black dress with a pink diamond necklace that costs as much as a car.

“You look stunning as always,” Xavier tells me when I join him in the living room.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” I reply, noticing that his pink tie is the same shade as my necklace. His hand lands on my waist and his eyes meet mine. What he said earlier today echoes in my mind: he’ll stop at nothing to keep me safe and it doesn’t matter what—or who—gets in the way.

“Do you mind if I go across the street and order myself something to eat?” I ask Xavier, speaking so quietly there’s no way a human would be able to hear me. We’ve been at this meeting for nearly two hours already and if it wasn’t for the random spikes of anxiety going through me every few seconds, I would probably have a hard time keeping my eyes open. I thought everyone would be concerned with the Order or at least being blamed for so much death and destruction, but they’ve been discussing building codes and property lines this whole time.

“Of course not,” Xavier tells me, though the strain on his face lets me know he’s not happy with the idea of me leaving his side. “You need to eat.”

“Yeah. Annoying part of being human, right?”

He just gives me a look—and then his credit card. We are in Uptown at the city hall which means I don’t have to walk far to find a place to get something to eat and drink. Though it is late, so my options are mostly bars at this point. It’s kinda funny how certain businesses stay open all night now that vampires are out. But not restaurants. It makes sense, of course. Vampires don’t eat food. Their human companions do, and I wonder if more places will stay open longer once vampire-human relationships become more and more acceptable.

Just because it’s legal doesn’t mean people are okay with it.

I decide on a 1920s themed bar and take a picture before walking in so I can send it to Mabel. My clothes are a little more casual today than the last time I went from a business meeting to a bar, and my dress doesn’t seem out of place here. Finding a single seat at the bar, I ignore the group of guys next to me and order a big pretzel and a beer.

Keeping myself busy, I send Mabel the picture and then log onto her social media, liking and leaving little hearts as comments on her recent posts. I have gained a surprising amount of followers even though I haven’t posted anything. I guess it goes to show how nosey people are. Even before I personally met Xavier and the rest of his family, I would have been curious about them too.

I’m a few sips into my beer when the pretzel arrives and I tear into it, shoving the soft bread into my mouth. The group of guys next to me have migrated even closer so I make it obvious that there is a large ring on my finger that clearly states I’m off limits—and out of their tax bracket. But before they can make a move on me, the little dot on the inside of my right hand burns like there’s a poker straight out of the fire being pressed against it.

“Fuck,” I huff and bring my hand to my chest. “Leave me alone,” I say through gritted teeth. I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to shut the demon out. The image of Antonio lying on the ground of the warehouse flashes before me. Everything is exactly the same as it was but Antonio’s lifeless eyes aren’t human.

They’re inked over and black like demons.

Gasping, I open my eyes and bring my hand to my head, heart racing.

“I said stop it,” I whisper, not caring if I sound crazy. I rip off a piece of the pretzel and take a bite, unable to quiet the voices in my head. I try to shake them away, but the more I try to ignore them, the louder they get. I get a flash of Tent City, and I don’t know if I’m being shown a vision or just recalling the last time I was there with Delphi. The memories are my own, and are vivid, which isn’t surprising since what we discovered was a little jarring.

Still, something inside me is telling me to go back because there was something big we missed the last time we were there. Logically, it’s possible. The demon poking around and using the bodies of homeless people doesn’t really make sense. The obvious thing is that the demon was having lesser demons do something on its behalf, but exactly what is still unknown.

Trying to force the feelings away, I do my silly white light mediation. It works for a lot of things, not just demons, and being able to stay in control of your emotions helps in all areas of life. I open up my phone, doom scrolling to get a serotonin boost as well as distract myself. I’m almost done with the pretzel when a cop car goes flying past. We’re in the heart of the city and police presence isn’t uncommon.

But when a second cop goes racing down the street, followed by a third, and a fourth, and then a fifth, more than half the bar turns and looks out the window. I narrow my eyes, seeing the flashing lights maybe two blocks down.

The group of guys next to me are all looking at one guy’s phone. He has some sort of police scanner app and I catch just parts of their conversation but it’s enough to know that the people randomly and suddenly becoming violent has a supernatural cause.

I quickly pay my tab, shove my phone and Xavier’s credit card in my bag, take a big drink of my beer and bring my pretzel with me, finishing it as I hurry out of the bar and head down the street, not stopping until I get to the corner across the street from where a dozen cops are standing with their guns drawn. I can see the confusion and fear on their faces along with the terror of the crowd.

We’re in front of another bar with a patio area that was set up with a live band who was still playing. I quickly scan the scene, taking it all in. It’s pure chaos, with manic energy to match.

The band’s drummer is sitting on the curb, holding broken drumsticks in one hand. Blood drips down his forehead and another member of the band stands near him, eyes wide. He’s holding a rag to his face, mopping up a bloody nose. A group of girls all dressed in bright red dresses argue to the side, pointing to another girl in red who’s standing away from them sobbing. A woman lays on the ground, dead or unconscious, I can’t tell yet. She’s covered in blood that may or may not be her own. Another girl who can’t be a day over twenty-one is on the ground only feet from her, dress smoking after catching on fire.

A couple other people are crouched down, hiding under tables trying to stay out of the way of a large man dressed in all black. He’s on the ground, writhing like a rabid dog. He stands up and I get a glimpse of his eyes.

He’s possessed.

“Stand down,” the cops say, rightly confused by the scene they discovered. The possessed man doesn’t listen and instead turns, walking several paces toward the cops. Oh shit, he’s going to get himself shot.

“There’s something wrong with his eyes,” one of the cops says. “He’s on drugs!” The same cop raises his gun and the man angles his body toward him. Demons can possess bodies of the dying and the dead, and a bullet to the head isn’t going to slow it down. I throw out my hand, creating a telekinetic shield just in the nick of time. The cops give the man another warning before a shot rings out. It hits the wall of energy and falls to the ground.

“You,” the demon growls, black eyes locking with mine. It jumps out of the body, black mist rising into the air. Humans can’t see demon mist like I can. Even if they could, I have no idea how you’d keep a demon from possessing you.

The man, who I think was the security guard for this place, drops to the ground like a sack of potatoes. His head hits a chair on the way down, and the thud is sickening. Heart hammering, I drop the shield and direct my energy at the demon that’s hovering in the air, looking for the next body.