“Don’t know yet.”
Her mouth drops open and she scoffs. “You want me to give you an open-ended promise? Are you for fucking real? You remember who I am, right?”
I brush my palms across my thighs as magic swirls around us. “You think I’d forget?”
“Well, sometimes familiarity makes one forget pertinent information,” she snaps.
“Didn’t forget you’re fate, Providence. Which is why I want the vow.”
“Oh, a vow. Nothing big, then.” Her eyes narrow, pinning me in place. “You’re still going to go check on Omen. You’re a softie like that. So, why would I?—”
“Because I know all your embarrassing secrets.” I smirk as the realization crashes into her.
“You fucking bastard. Fine. But you know the rules. If you want a love or binding spell, go visit a witch. If you want to find your soulbound, no you don’t. And consent is always top billing, so don’t—oh, what am I saying. You’re a stickler for that shit.”
“Not shit to have a willing participant in whatever I’m engaged in,” I slap my hands on my legs, then push to my feet. “I’d say it’s been a pleasure, but you’re a bitch and if you ever yank me around the dimensions again, I’ll fill your bathtub with squids.”
Outrage flashes across her face, then dissolves as a full-body shudder takes over. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me,” I spin, intent on stepping into the void to get to Omen when I glance over my shoulder. “What about curses?”
She gives me a look. “What about them? Wait, is this your?—”
I hold up my hand. “I don’t need you for an education on curses, Prov. I’m asking if you can break them.”
She shakes her head. “Only one I know who can is Karma. Somehow, I think you’re better off doing the research yourself. Unless you made up with your darling sister?”
I roll my eyes and disappear into the void, not bothering to answer. Instead of Omen’s room, though, I’m dropped into a dingy alley topside. I glance around, taking in the bright lights piercing the night. Thick bass rumbles from the building to my right, though the one on the other side sits silent. It’s not that I’ve never been to a city up here before. It’s been a long time, though. At least, I think it has.
As soon as I learned how to travel through the void, I would sneak up here to explore. Sometimes Omen tagged along. He was always more of a stickler for the rules—thought he had something to prove to our demon handlers. We were young and reckless and full of false bravado. Back then, this world wasn’tso busy. There weren’t as many humans, and technology hadn’t burst from its bubble yet. Omen enjoyed the solitude more than me.
All that to say, I’ve been to a club before. It’s been a while, though. Human emotions ran rampant, and they didn’t always act in their best interests. Sometimes I wish it didn’t take so much for demons to get a buzz. Not much up here does the trick. It might help ease the pain of the curse.
At least I’m not passed out in this dirty alley. Other than a strange tugging in my gut, it’s as if it never afflicted me. I’m wary of believing I’m suddenly cured. They don’t typically work like that. The music cuts out, and I freeze at the sudden silence. Three inhales later, the beat drops and the crowd inside screams. I tense, then remember—joy. They’re not being tortured or whipped into a frenzy like other situations I’ve been in. They’re, dare I say, happy.
“Wouldn’t it be nice,” I mumble. The thought stops my brain from skipping to the next thing.
I’m happy. Always jovial. Always joking. Always jesting.
Except most of the time I’m faking it. Or playing at the emotion. Omen may be able to play off surly like a positive trait. I’m not capable. Being able to bury my emotions is my best asset, honestly. Otherwise, my friends would be constantly worried about me.
Curiosity more than anything has my feet moving toward the entrance. Just before I step into the bright neon street, I stop. Groups of humans filter past, unaware of the presence of a demon a mere few feet away. I close my eyes, hoping I have enough energy to mask my natural form. It’s less scary than my true form, but I doubt the humans would appreciate a grey-skinned demon with black eyes prancing around them.
I step onto the sidewalk and wait for the screams of terror. A woman barely gives me a glance as she passes by with herfriends, and I breathe a sigh of relief. When she looks over her shoulder, hunger heavy in her gaze, I duck my head. I can’t do anything about my height. Slouching will have to do. I doubt it will deter anyone ravenous enough. I’m not here to hook up with some unsuspecting human.
For some reason, an image of a certain purple-haired witch pops into my mind. I should seek her out, find out what she was so close to telling me. Do I think she was about to reveal all her deepest, darkest secrets? Probably not. There was something, though. Something I could help with. And I desperately want to help her. I’ll figure out why one little witch has such an impact on me later.
“Line’s back there, buddy,” a surly man six inches shorter than me grunts when I approach the front.
I glance down the block and purse my lips. More than a couple of people are watching our exchange. No, watchingme.I glance down, taking in my leather-covered arms and simple white t-shirt. The jeans are a little tight, but nothing to alert the harpies about.
I lean closer and the man,bouncer, bares his teeth. “I’m with the band.”
Flashing him my most charming smile doesn’t do anything. I sigh, then snap my fingers in his face. His eyes take on a glazed appearance, and I wait for a beat, then push past him.
“Have fun, man!” he calls after me.
Hallways jut off to each side before the space opens up. Tall ceilings with the guts of the building exposed sit high above my head. It’s less crowded than I expected. I wonder why the bouncer isn’t letting more people in. It’s not until I reach the railing in front of me that it clicks. A huge dance floor sits a story below. Hundreds of humans writhe to the music. They sway in time, merging with each other to create a cacophony of limbs tangled together.
