Desire: #4 Brightest Kind of Darkness (18 page)

“
That
is her number,” I say, waving to catch the redhead’s attention. She smiles and as she makes her way toward us, I continue. “Her name’s Emily Donovan. She’s the nurse who took care of me at the hospital. Don’t know what she sees in your sorry mug, but she asked me to give you her number.”

When my brother starts to frown, I shake my head. “How long are you going to pretend not to care about dating? I don’t want you to put your life on hold for me, Samson.” Shrugging, I continue, “She’s new here and doesn’t know anyone, so since it’s Christmas and all…I invited her to listen to the band with us.”

“Hi, Ethan,” she says once she reaches our table. “You look great. No lingering effects from your car accident?”

My brother’s up and sliding a chair back before I get a chance to pull out one for her. I hold back a grin. His gaze hasn’t left her face while she waits for my response. “I’m all good.”

“I’m so glad to hear it.” She glances Samson’s way as she sits down. “Thank you, Samson. I’m Emily in case you forgot my name. It’s good to see you again. I hope you don’t mind me crashing your guy time, but Ethan texted and said to come and listen to this Weylaid band with you two. I’m a big music junkie.”

Samson gives a half-laugh, then takes his seat. “My brother knows more about the band than I do. Apparently he’s been working for them, doing equipment and such, for a while.”

I ignore the dig in his tone and lean back in my chair, ready to listen to the band do their thing.

A half hour later, the bar’s starting to fill up with people here to see Weylaid play. I’m enjoying the deep, rich sounds of the Southern rock music. Plus, it keeps me from having to watch my brother and Emily dance around their obvious mutual attraction. It occurs to me that with my brother completely distracted by Emily, now’s a good time to talk to Matt, and since he likes Weylaid’s sound, I send him a text inviting him to join us if he can.

A few minutes later, I get a text back from Matt saying he’ll come in an hour. The latest song ends while I’m tucking my phone in my pocket. “We’ll be back in five.” The lead singer, Dom, lets the crowd know, but before he walks away from the mic, he points in my direction. “Hey Adder.” He then curls his finger, calling me over.

I can’t jump up fast enough. “I’ll be back,” I say to my brother. “Looks like they need me.”

Samson waves me on without looking away from Emily.

I shake my head and move toward the side door. Bet he’ll look up later and wonder where I went.

As soon as the door closes behind me, the whole band crowds into the hallway while Dom approaches, a wide grin on his face. “Tonight is really looking up. Ready to rock with us?”

“I can’t play tonight, Dom. I’m here with my brother.”

Dom smirks, raising a dark eyebrow. “Seems to me he’s here with Red and you’re a third wheel.”

Even though I can’t deny that very true statement, I open my mouth to make up some other excuse when Duke clasps me on the shoulder. “They need you to play lead guitar, Adder. I have to duck out early for a family event. Christmas Eve is the one time a year I can’t bail. Chance here—” he tilts his head toward the blond musician leaning his head back against the wall with his eyes closed— “
really
appreciates your timely presence.”

Chance doesn’t even bother to open his eyes. “I’ll personally consider it an early Christmas present.”

“You really don’t want to play?” I ask.

Chance shakes his head, his gaze finally meeting mine. “Not really. I can’t improvise like you and Duke do. Been dreading this night all week until you showed up.”

“We only have an hour left in the set,” Dom says. “You don’t have to play the after songs if you’d rather get back to your brother. What do you say?”

My brother is so completely into Emily, I doubt he’ll even notice. I don’t think he’s looked at the stage once since she walked in. I slowly nod. “Just do me a favor and don’t mention the switch up or announce me once we’re on stage. Let’s just play.”

Dom shrugs. “Fine by me.”

Duke shakes his shaggy red hair from his eyes and hands me his guitar. “Take care of her, dude.”

Nodding, I take the instrument. When my hand folds around the neck and the strings push against the pads of my fingers, a sense of euphoria washes over me. It can’t hurt to get lost in the music for a little while.

For the next hour, I bend over the guitar under the hot stage lights and revel in Adder’s talent, enjoying the escape it brings. Even though I understand where my dreams come from now, I still wake up with my fists clenched and tension vibrating through me, so this release feels good.

While we move through rock songs, Southern rock and even a couple slower ballads, I let the pleasing sounds flow from my fingers up my arms, then down my body all the way to my tapping foot. All the while, I’m wishing I had the ability to take control of my dreams as easily as my fingers slide across these strings. I’m a bit jealous that Nara was somehow able to manipulate my own dream world while she was in it. Apparently, my brain is only wired to fight against the monsters, evil, and horrific scenarios that fill my sleep time, not eliminate them with a mere thought.

Should I blame the Corvus for my dreams? Up until now I believed the dark imagery was a manifestation of my mind working through the negative stuff I absorb from people I come in contact with, but maybe they’re a result of both our strong minds and wills sharing the same space.

I just wish I could figure out how to stop the nightmares all together. Maybe if I work harder on mentally blocking the Corvus—there has to be a way, no matter what he says—I might be able to transfer that ability once I fall asleep.

The crowd’s applause yanks me back to the here and now. I grip the guitar’s neck and look up to acknowledge all the whistles and calls for more.

Now that my senses are back, an awful stench hits me, making the burger in my stomach feel like a pound of wet cement.

Demons.

Chapter Twelve

Ethan

Fingers tightening on the guitar, my gaze narrows and I quickly scan the room for the source.

My line of sight stutters for a second when my eyes lock with my brother’s. He’s clapping along with the crowd, but the look on his face reflects more than surprise. His mouth is tense. He’s hurt. Damn. I’d hoped to avoid—

An extra loud group of guys in the middle of the room pulls my attention away. All five are whooping and clapping and they’re looking right at me. Every single one is a demon. While I see their demonic faces hiding behind the human bodies they’re in, my mind races.
How do they know I’m Corvus?
Then I remember Nara telling me that Drake’s Furia, the one who’d taken over David, told some Inferni about me. Of course they’d pick a public place to openly goad me.

I lock my jaw at the same time the Corvus inside me yanks my chin down, then jerks my head toward the main door, letting the bastards know he’s ready when they are.

I don’t disagree with the Corvus. I want the demons out of the bar and far away from everyone, especially my brother. I exhale a steadying breath, glad I took the stage when I did. It’s better if the demons think I’m here alone.

I follow the band off the stage, but instead of hanging out in the back room with them afterward for some downtime, I tell them I need to get back out to my brother. Shutting the door behind me, I don’t go to the bar. Instead, I clench my fists and turn down the hall, then take the door that leads into the alley.

The second I open the door, someone grabs my arm and yanks me outside into the dimly lit space between the buildings.

Stirred snow cakes the tops of my boots while all five demons quickly circle around me. I mentally call my sword, but my Corvus has other ideas. He casually kicks the snow off, then slowly pivots all the way around, tallying his adversaries; two Inferni have taken up residence inside older men, one is bald and the other has salt and pepper hair. The other three Inferni have taken over college-aged guys: a short one, a tall one, both with brown hair, and a skinny one with red hair. Once the Corvus has taken inventory, he smiles. My breath comes out in foggy gusts and my gut tightens; he’s freaking smiling at them.

The arrogant bastard’s enjoying the testosterone levels rising inside the demons, and while any other day I wouldn’t mind a good fight, I don’t have time for this shit. My brother could come looking for me any second.

Let me call my sword, damn you!

The Corvus makes a dismissive sound in my head.
Need I remind you of the deal we made about you letting me handle things? No one’s around. These demon spawns are mine.

Not this time. I have to get back to my brother—

Shut up and pay attention. You’re about to get hit in the—

Pain splinters down my spine. One of the bastards—the skinny guy with red hair—hit the top of my shoulder with his fist, sneering in my ear, “Where’s your sword, Corvus?”

Pressure wells inside me so fast I barely have time to think. My elbow slams my attacker in the throat, then I pivot and my fist hammers the bald guy’s face. There’s a fine line between my instinctual moves and the Corvus’, but I can tell this is all him. The Corvus doesn’t mess around.

My lip curls in satisfaction to see them both go down quickly. I know they won’t be groggy for long, but it doesn’t keep me from turning my back on them. I face the other three, fists raised. “Come on, Shitfernis. Give me your best sho—
oomph
”

The younger two rush me at the same time, jamming their shoulders into my chest.

I hit the Dumpster behind me hard, but when I remain on my feet and let out a low laugh, they jump back and cast each other a surprised look.

Even though my vision is slightly blurred, I vault across the alley, arms outstretched, clotheslining the bastards.

The instant both demons slam to the ground, I take advantage of the leverage their bodies give me and pull my feet forward, spring-boarding my boots off the on-coming demon’s barrel chest. Curling into a backward flip, I land on the balls of my feet in the slick snow in time to see Mr. Salt and Pepper careen across the alley, his growls of fury cut off when he crashes into the opposite wall, sending brick pieces flying.

The Corvus chuckles. He’s enjoying the violence. I can’t help but laugh along with him.
Amateurs
, he mumbles in my head. The moment the thought enters my mind, I stumble forward in excruciating pain. The redhead has jumped on me, jamming his knees straight into my back. At the same time that he hooks an arm around my neck, he slams his fist into my jaw.

My head snaps sideways with the force, just as another demon roundhouse kicks me in the stomach. Air whooshes from my lungs and the sudden inability to breathe makes it hard to see, let alone focus on the knife’s blade suddenly in my periphery.

A slicing sensation burns my arm and back, right before another demon joins in, landing a powerful kick into my side.
Pull your damn sword, Corvus!
I yell at the arrogant spirit inside me.

The Corvus jerks my hands up and grabs another foot swinging toward my jaw. With lightning speed, he twists the guy’s leg so hard it snaps. While the older man crumples to the ground, groaning, the Corvus jerks my hand back and grabs the skinny guy’s jacket collar, then tosses the guy off me with a flick of my wrist.

Happy?
he snarls in my head.

I displace my anger at his blasé tone with a fist to the crotch of the guy closest to me. When he bends over to grab his injured junk, I knock away the long knife he used to slice my upper arm. Gritting my teeth through the biting pain in my bicep, I try to stand, but can’t dodge in time to avoid the redhead’s kick to my thigh. His steel-toed boot sends my knees back to the ground.

While the cold snow seeps into my jeans, the bald guy grabs my neck in another chokehold.

I growl and grab his arm, sheer fury ripping through me. I want to kill the Corvus right along with these guys. This might be his idea of fun, but the stupid spirit isn’t the one getting treated like a punching bag.