Blood cursed, p.8
Blood Cursed, page 8
But I imagined asking for his help, and my guts coiled cold. He’d sneer at me with those contemptuous rosy lips. Throw a few more whore insults. Toss that shining hair at me and flitter his infuriatingly perky glass ass away.
My chin set tight, and I flicked the phone dark.
No way.
I didn’t need Diamond. I was through asking for help. Relying on men to save me was what got me into this mess. Besides, Kane’s hellspelled hourglass was running out. I didn’t have time to quarrel with Diamond, to flirt and circumscribe and explain what the hell had happened. I had to do this now, tonight, on my own.
But you’re insignificant. That nasty doubtvoice taunted me. You’re so weak and stupid, Emmy, how can you get through the night alone? You need someone to protect you. Someone to feed you and dress you and keep you safe.
“Shut up.” I sniffled, uneasy. “I can do it by myself.”
No, you can’t, Emmy. Don’t be stupid. Go find another boy to take care of you. Diamond’s cute, and strong. And he wants to fuck you. They all want to fuck you, Emmy. Didn’t you watch those hot glitter-lashed eyes, licking over your body? All you gotta do is give him a nice hot blowjob in the dark and he’ll give you what you need … .
“Shut up!” My voice grated in the hot silence, and I stuffed Jasper’s phone into my bag with a vicious shove. No way. Coward-beast was right about one thing: In gangland, nothing got you nothing. If Diamond thought I’d lay one finger on his weird pinkglass body, he could bloody well think again.
In any case, the people I hunted were probably Diamond’s friends. Once I explained what I needed, he’d tell me to get lost anyway.
No. I’d find another way.
I clicked my bag open again and poked inside, cataloging my meager resources. My phone. Jasper’s phone. Mirror, dusted with blue glitter. Foil twist, opened, same blue glitter. Lipstick, cherry. Some loose change, a couple of crumpled fifties.
I fingered the bills, and an idea sparked. Money meant power. I might not have any friends, but that didn’t make me helpless.
My stupid skirt rode up over my butt as I squatted. I yanked it down and carefully hooked Jasper’s roll of cash from his front pocket with one finger.
I flipped it open and glanced through the bills. Like any suave purveyor of junk, Jasper was always either swimming in it or flat broke, and luckily for me, tonight was the former. The curled plastic cash slid smooth on my fingers, that lusty moneyscent crisp in my nose, seductive, beckoning. In the moonlight, the pale terracotta twenties shone wetblack with his blood.
My nose wrinkled, but I crammed it all into my bag anyway, inkstain smearing on velvet. Jasper’s money always had blood on it. You just couldn’t see it most of the time.
I stood, tugging my skirt down again. My thoughts fizzed, swirled, coalesced. I needed information, but if I poked my nose in too hard, it might get bitten off.
Can’t imagine Jasper’s hellbound buddies were too eager to be found. So I had to be careful. Subtle. Sneaky, even.
There were others who knew more than I. If I told Jasper’s lick-ass drug-dealing friends he was in trouble, they might cough up. Everything was for sale. Maybe if I flirted a bit and laid down some cash, they’d help me.
I strode to the firedoor and yanked it open. Hot nightclub air drenched me in sweat and sound, the glory of dancing and sighs and wild abandoned grace mixing with heady moonlight until I swayed, drunk.
Screw Kane and his hellfire, Diamond’s scornful looks, Jasper and his hateful lies. I didn’t care. With moonlight racing in my blood and the dark pleasure of midnight sweat on my skin, I loved life. I didn’t want to die.
Jasper’s ring scorched my finger, the demonbound ache in my bones flaring scarlet. I sucked in a breath, trying to calm my pulse. Easy, Em. Keep it simple. I’d get Kane his damn stones, save my soul. And then I was leaving town forever.
A new start. No more excitement, no gangs, no drugs, no horny vampires or seedy nightclub demon deals. Thanks to Jasper, I had the price of an airfare and more. I’d go up to Brisbane, maybe, where it was warm and humid, big old rambling houses and no daylight saving and coffee down by the river in the scent of frangipani. Get a job. Keep my head down. Stay away from controlling men, find me a nice clean fairy boy who didn’t know sparkle from sherbet powder. No more gangster boyfriends for me.
I thought of Jasper’s beautiful apartment by the river, luxurious carpet and glass and shining white marble tiles. My pretty clothes, my jewels, all that expensive food and champagne, parties and candlelit cruises, nights spent in glittering casinos and bars. Sniffing luminous blue lines from golden mirrors, dancing slow and sultry wrapped in sugary fairy laughter, the rich drunken delight of sparkle-drenched sex. The hot velvet friction of his wings along mine, floating high on burning summer updrafts, midnight breeze a soft kiss in my hair.
Jasper was an asshole, sure. But he was a charming, cashed-up, fun-loving asshole who knew how to rock a fairy’s world.
I’d miss that.
But not for me anymore the fast life, the money, that heady breathless flavor of danger. I’d get an office job. Wash dishes. Work at Starbucks. Anything but this. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about being abandoned on the street to sell my blood.
Or dropped in a screeching hellpit with a ring on my finger.
I swallowed, tilted my chin high, and walked into the club to look for Jasper’s friends. Just an ordinary, nice, simple, boring life. I’d be poor, but at least I’d be happy.
Right?
7
I shouldered up to the crowded bar in the warm smell of smoke and sweat. Music caressed my wings, a slow pulsing vibration. White neon gleamed under my elbows as I hopped onto a stool, between two kissing fairy girls and a stoned human kid with steel pins in his eyebrows and Inca tattoos on his half-shaven scalp. I ordered a champagne cocktail and craned my neck for a glimpse of Jasper’s friends, my fingers itching to get on with it.
“Hey, baby.” The tattooed kid offered me his joint, his crusty-lashed eyes glued to my cleavage.
I scowled. Smoking’s banned in clubs. Those things’ll kill ya.
Jasper’s ring frosted hot on my finger, and I giggled, mad. Then again, what could go wrong from here? I took the lumpy cigarette and dragged. Clean, pale, a bitter opium twinge. I held it back out to him, the tart smoke croaking my voice. “Thanks.”
He winked and shuffled closer, greasy hair tumbling. “Hey. You, ah, working tonight?”
“Huh?” The smoke made me dreamy, and I didn’t really hear him.
He crept slick fingers up my thigh. “Wanna earn a little cash?”
“Fuck you.” I exhaled into his face and pushed away, glaring. Talk about spoiling my mellow. I didn’t have a choice how my glamour made me appear, but sometimes I wished it wasn’t a big-breasted bimbo.
Grumble, boo hoo, so sad. Okay, it was nice to be pretty, and this slutty outfit wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. But just once, I’d like to sit at the bar without some grubby guy thinking I’ll blow him in the back room for twenty bucks. Was that so much to ask?
I found another stool, keeping my eyes down, and stupid tears crept into my nose. Jasper would’ve torn that guy’s head off.
Yeah. Big Em, my ghostly better self, snorted at my shoulder, her matter-of-fact tone caustic. Because it cost Jasper a lot more than twenty bucks to get you to suck him off.
I flushed and wiped my eyes. You know what, Big Em? Sometimes you can just keep your know-it-all mouth shut.
The blond bar guy brought my champagne, and I drank deep, the alcoholic fizz warm and urgent inside. It didn’t soothe me. Persistent male fingers slid over my shoulder, and I shrugged them off impatiently. Tattoo Boy didn’t know when to give up. “Look, I’m not selling, okay?”
“Pity.” Hot lips drenched my cheek in stale blood-scent, and fingers snapped tight like cruel jaws on the back of my neck. “Guess we’ll just take it for free, then.”
My pulse jiggled cold. Dark husky voice, dusty blue hair snaking over my shoulder. Tinkerfang, my new vampire buddy.
“Get off me, freak.” Metal clattered as I shoved my stool back, trying to break Tinker’s grip.
But I just banged into a hard shoulder. Paris snarled, teeth shining, golden fury glittering her eyes. “You murdered our friend, slutfae.”
My nerves knotted cold. “What? No! I didn’t hurt him, I just—Guh!”
Tinker gripped my throat, sharp nails slashing, and dived in to lick my blood from his knuckles with a lust-drunk hiss. “He’s dead on the floor, bitch. What’d you give him? Huh? Cut your sparkle with drain cleaner?”
I struggled, sharp heels slipping on the metal floor. “No! Get off me. I didn’t do anything!”
But guilt trickled like hot honey over my skin, and with an ugly jolt, I realized I had.
In my mind, that glowing scarlet jewel crushed once more in Kane’s fist. That horrid deathly squelch, soul-blood’s dark shine on his lips. That was the vampire boy’s, was it? he’d said.
Jasper gave Kane the gemstone I stole, and now the vampire I’d stolen it from was dead. Kane ate his soul. Because I was too dumb to realize Jasper was playing me, some guy I didn’t even know—some ordinary, horny, blood-drunk kid who never did me any wrong, only took what I was offering—was dead.
Tinker bared his teeth, a hungry dog’s grin. “Oh yes, you did, princess. And I’m gonna chain you up and bleed you till you die. Could take weeks.”
I choked and scrabbled at his hand, scratching his skin bloody. His meaty virus-stink wormed hot and sick in my mouth, but determination burned hotter.
Sure, their friend was a rude, dirty scumbag who bought blood from desperate girls. Didn’t mean he deserved to die.
But neither did I.
I forced my jaw tight and jammed my knee into Tinker’s balls.
He cramped over, gasping, and his grip faltered. I slammed my metal heel into Paris’s shin. Skin ripped, a bloody splatter. She yowled like a wounded cat, and I pulled free and dived headfirst into the undulating crowd.
Fangs slashed at my ankle, but I kicked free and tumbled onto my face. The grimy metal floor smacked into my cheek. My teeth sliced my lips. A knee crushed my ribs. My hair yanked tight under stumbling feet, smearing in the dirt. I didn’t care. I hauled myself up on nerveless wings and ran, shoving shoulders and limbs and trailing wings from my path.
Behind me, Paris and Tinker snarled, and metal furniture clanged. I fought a path through the sweaty crowd, between wailing fairies crazy on sparkle-drenched drinks, a pair of troll boys kissing, a lithe scarlet-haired firefairy on his knees, going down on his girl right there on the dance floor, her skirt wrapped around her hips and his lips shining wet. No one gave a damn about me. No one would help me, not a stupid bloodfae whore.
Sticky hair plastered in my eyes. I dragged it back. At last, I broke clear and hurtled toward the front door.
The skinny green troll girl at the counter speared me on a beady black glare as I stumbled by. I’d checked my jacket, a shiny silver one, my favorite. I didn’t care. I forced out into the street, past a weaving blue water-fairy and a greasy pair of sniggering potbellied sprig-gans, and took a desperate gulp of hot dry midnight air.
Moonlight burned me, dancing sweet desire into my blood. The street was busy, cars cruising by in the shadow of motionless foliage, the plane trees on the median strip untouched by breeze. As usual for a midnight in summer, the queue stretched along the dirty footpath, a swath of dustbright wings, glowing eyes, rainbow limbs damp with fragrant sweat. Magical static sparked along the pavement, red and blue as glamours clashed and fought for space, and the air shimmered with spellcraft and moonlit heat.
But humans, too, excited and glassy-eyed, swaying dizzy on intoxicating glamour. Too many humans. My heart sank. I couldn’t fly away, not in front of them. Too dangerous.
My heels raked my ankles bloody as I stumbled to the gutter and wildly searched the street. No cabs. Typical. Nearest tramstop blocks away.
Behind me, the door crashed open. I whirled, vision blurring, and hot needles stabbed along my nerves. Tinker hunkered and slavered like a chained dog. Paris sniffed, tasting the still heat like a cat, and her sharp gaze speared me to the wall.
8
I gulped a breath and ran.
Paris and Tinker hared behind me like hungry beasts. My stupid heels crippled me, my lungs a hot mess. That creeping hellfire cackled inside me, greasy with inevitability. I couldn’t outrun them, couldn’t hide. Couldn’t fight them off.
Out of options. Out of luck. Out of time.
I scrabbled in my purse with shaking fingers. Dragged out Jasper’s phone, moonbright blood smearing. Hit CALL BACK.
In a ring and a half, he picked up.
Club noise, harsh. His voice, impatient but harmonious like windchimes. “Where you lurkifying, Jay-jay? Don’t got all night.”
I flung a glance over my shoulder, hair flying. “It’s not Jasper,” I panted. “It’s me, Ember. Jasper’s dead. They’re chasing me, I—”
“Ember?” The noise faded, like he moved where it was quieter. “Whattaya mean, deaded? How? What happenated?”
“They’re chasing me, okay?” Tears gripped my throat tight. I couldn’t breathe. I gulped, wet. “They’re gonna kill me, I can’t—”
“Okay, angel. Chillify.” Cool, authoritative, in control. “Where you at?”
“Outside, I’m out the fr—Ugh!”
Broken concrete caught my heel, and I tripped.
I flailed my wings for balance, but no good. My hips hit the asphalt, rattling my bones. I skidded, gravel scraping my midriff raw, and my chin slammed the pavement.
My teeth crunched, a mouthful of blood. Stars shimmied before my eyes like drunken jewels. Jasper’s phone cracked on the ground and spun out of reach.
Fuck.
I shook my aching head, desperate to clear it. Dizzy, I tried to clamber up, clawing the dusty brick wall.
But Paris kicked my feet from under me, and I crumpled, wings flapping wet.
Tinkerfang sniffed me, grinning. “You smell good bleeding.”
I kicked at him from the dirty ground, trembling. “Get off me, freak!”
Paris smiled cruelly, and she glanced cunningly at the watching crowd. “There you are, precious. Come on home, now. Don’t be afraid.” Her smooth voice soothed, placated, like a mistress to her naughty dog, and she offered me her hand, those vampire eyes seething with hot crimson death.
I shrank, my bruised flesh aching like the hellfire in my bones. “Get away from me!”
“Don’t be silly, pretty. We’re your friends. Come home. We won’t hurt you.”
Desperate, I searched the indifferent crowd. “Please, help me. She’s not my friend. They’re gonna kill me! Please!”
But no one moved or spoke. No one would help me, not the gangster’s skanky girlfriend. I’d probably brought it on myself, right? For dressing like a tart?
The cruel moon shone, careless, spilling the dark shadow of my new friends onto my body. They’d kill me. Drink every last slurp of my richcandy blood, and I didn’t have Kane’s stones and he’d drag me wailing to hell. Forever.
Paris leaned in. Tinker grinned, salivating, and dragged his hotslick tongue over my collarbone. Already my greedy moonpulse swelled hot and ready. I wanted to scream. I wanted to lie back and let them take me.
My guts clenched tight, but I didn’t close my eyes. I stared them right in their faces. Watch me die, fuckers. Look into my eyes while you kill me.
Roseglass wings sliced the air apart.
Tinker stumbled, his chain suddenly yanked taut, and his grip tore away. Paris staggered and snarled, a flash of wet teeth and lustdrunk eyes. But a shining pink blur cracked her skull into the wall.
Blood spattered. She choked, her throat gripped tight in a fist that glowed like blood-drenched starlight, and Diamond’s whisper sparkled the air with crystal. “Careful where you play, trashgirl.”
I stared, detached, surprised he’d even bothered. Sweat shone on his bulging translucent muscles, and his glassy wings blazed scarlet as he jammed her against the wall.
One-handed. Three feet off the ground. Strong son of a bitch.
Especially for a guy who’s … well … pink.
Mad giggles bubbled my throat, and I swallowed them.
Tinker whimpered, dribbling, and Diamond gave his chain a savage pull, sprawling him facefirst to the ground. “Hush it, Fido, grown-ups are talkamating. That’s my fairylady, petal. Hands off.”
Paris snarled and kicked, struggling in his grip. “Don’t see no lady. That bitch poisoned our friend.”
“And you can take it up with Angelo. He says, we do-ify. Wanna get shitty with him? Be my guest. But she’s my vampire bait, and you can’t have her.”
Indignation burred my skin, but I crouched small and kept my mouth shut.
Diamond flung Paris aside, and she landed in a snarling crouch, angry blond hair tangling. Tinker rolled over, quick as a snake, and dived for Diamond’s ankles with a hungry howl.
Diamond skittered aside, wings clinking. Tinker grabbed his legs and chewed, sharp teeth slashing at leather, and Diamond hissed and yanked at Tinker’s bluedusted hair. Rotting hanks ripped off in his hands, but the little rat screeched in famished delight and wouldn’t let go.
“Get off, you sick little freak!” I flexed my aching thigh and kicked at Tinker’s face.
My heel connected, a crunch of bone. Tinker howled again and let go, blood spurting from his cute button nose.
I scrambled up, my pulse racing. It felt good to stand up for myself, even if I wasn’t tough enough to escape on my own. But still, my heart stung. Tinker was just a hungry kid on a chain, trying to please his mistress.
I knew how he felt.
I stammered, confusion melting my disgust. I wanted to claw Tinker’s eyes out for threatening me. I wanted to put my arm around him, say, There, there, sweetie, and wipe his little nose clean. I just wasn’t cut out for this gangfighting shit. “Yeah … that’ll learn ya to chase me, weirdo. Take that.”
