Life in Shadows (29 page)

He
felt his eyelids grow heavy as a shudder ran through him, but it went no
further than that. He had little trouble resisting now. “You can knock off the
demon mojo,” he told her, calm and resolute despite the flare of her eyes and
the angry curl of her lip. “Mind control isn’t consent. It’s not a kink. It’s
assault. Get the fuck out of my way. I’m leaving.”

“He
knows,” Destiny hissed.

“Of
course I know!” Alex burst. He gestured to the table. “What part of this room
doesn’t
say, ‘Freaky Demon Sex Dungeon?’ Come on!”

Chance’s
eyes narrowed. “Then you’ll have to stay and explain how you know so much.”

Destiny
moved in fast, snarling much like the man on the couch as she lunged for Alex.
He ducked to his left and swept her away, pushing back mostly with his upper
arm so he wouldn’t get his wrists anywhere near those cuffs. Alex put his full
strength into the move, which turned out to be a good thing. Though she looked
no different than before, Destiny felt heavy and solid like a linebacker rather
than a lithe, slender dancer.

Still,
Alex had leverage, momentum, and technique on his side. Destiny tumbled off
balance and sprawled out on the floor. Alex kept moving. Chance looked ready
for his attack, but he pushed forward anyway, launching a left hook into her
jaw. He followed up with a low, forceful kick to her belly meant to knock her
out of his path.

She
didn’t move. His shoulders slumped. “Aw, really?”

Chance
shoved him hard with both hands, sending him stumbling until the ritual
platform took his knees out from under him. He fell on his back, but rolled
with the momentum to get away from Chance. As she jumped onto the table, Alex
brought both feet up at her, kicking her face and shoulders to push her away.

He
scrambled off the table, winding up on exactly the furthest spot from the exit.
Destiny was coming around on one side. Chance looked ready to move along the
other. Alex looked for an escape and found nowhere to run, but he was at least
right next to the table full of what he took to be ritual supplies. That gave
him a bit of hope. His fists wouldn’t get him out of this mess. He needed
weapons. The table provided a couple of things he knew how to use. Alex filled
his left hand with the neck of a glass bottle. He was about to do the same with
his other hand until he spotted an ornate ritual dagger. The dried blood on the
blade didn’t deter him at all. If anything, it suggested that the thing was for
more than show.

Alex
moved in to meet Destiny head-on. He thrust the bottom of the bottle under her
chin in a wide, underhanded arc, blunting her momentum and setting her up for a
stab to the gut with the dagger. As he half-expected, the dagger didn’t
penetrate much, but as it turned aside it still drew blood and a shriek of
pain. Destiny got her arms around him before he could turn her aside. Her nails
dug into his skin like talons, forcing him to shout in pain much louder than
she had.

Bad.
Real bad
, Alex thought as he spun, taking advantage of his
greater height to lift her off her feet even if he couldn’t easily break free.
He slammed her into the table as he turned, knocking over jars and bowls. She
didn’t have the hold locked in yet. Alex spotted the big mirror mounted on the
nearby wall. Chance was almost on top of them. Rather than tangle with both
women at once, Alex ran straight for the mirror, carrying Destiny with him the
whole way. “No!” shrieked Chance.

They
hit the mirror hard, with Destiny bearing the full brunt of the impact. It
shattered with a louder crash than Alex expected as Destiny cried out in pain,
but the bigger surprise came when they fell to the floor behind the mirror.
He’d been wrong about it being mounted. His bottle shattered in the mess, too,
but he hung onto the blade. Destiny rolled off of him as they landed.

This
room was darker than the other. Darker and much smaller, more like a closet
than a room, with greenish swirling lights along the walls.

He
saw another naked man here, this one restrained upright against the walls, with
scraggly hair and a hipster beard—and his chest opened up like someone had
popped the hinges on his ribcage. The greenish light was strongest at the
gaping hole, where an ethereal, vaguely humanoid shape swirled about as if
trying to settle into the man’s chest. A similar green glow emanated from the
man’s eyes and his open mouth.

“Oh,
you fucking wretch!” Chance snarled as she approached. “That was a soul
mirror!”

Picking
himself up off the floor, Alex saw shards of glittering blue glass all around
rather than pieces from an ordinary mirror. As if the lights and colors weren’t
enough, he saw Destiny curled up on the concrete in pain, her wings and tail
now showing. Her skin now bore a reddish tint, too. It made the blue shards
sticking out of her that much more visible, along with the blood that flowed
from dozens of cuts all over her shoulders and back.

He
had no clue what a soul mirror was or what it did, but it clearly meant a lot
to Chance. Alex switched the dagger into his left hand and carefully took hold
of the nearest big shard of debris with his right. “Guess you should’ve let me
go, huh?” he asked.

Chance
let out a furious growl as she crossed into the little room, grabbing his
shoulder. Alex felt her talons on his skin, but his counterattack was already
in motion. He plunged the shard of glass straight into Chance’s wrist. She
jerked her hand away, screaming in pain. Alex spun around, shoved her aside,
and bolted for the exit. He ran right over the cushioned platform and ignored
the shouting man on the couch on his way to the stairs.

The
door at the top opened up without a problem, giving Alex a slight measure of
relief. He found no one in the VIP room, just the same red lights, furniture,
thumping music, and discarded lingerie. The door to the hall remained shut.
Alex thought fast. Barricading the secret door to the Chamber of Batshit Crazy
downstairs seemed like a great idea, but none of the furniture here looked up
to the job. Besides, both of the demon women were much stronger than Alex or
any other guys he knew. He ditched that idea and decided he’d have to take the
brazen approach. Alex slipped the knife into the back of his belt under his
untucked dress shirt, hoped to God he didn’t wind up cutting himself or
stabbing his own ass like an idiot, and went straight for the door. He took up
a bottle from the bar on his way, only this time it was full of vodka rather
than whatever freaky ritual stuff they kept downstairs.

He
came face to face—or rather face to chin—with one of the bouncers in the dark
hallway outside. A second bouncer loomed not far away. “Hi,” Alex smiled.
“Excuse me.”

The
bouncer moved to block Alex’s sidestep and put one hand on his chest. “Wait.
Where are the girls?” he asked.

“Back
there. No worries, they’re fine,” Alex answered breathlessly. “Holy shit are
they wild.” He kept his right hand low and back to hide the bottle, but almost
as soon as he thought of it, he came to the conclusion that only a bouncer on
his first day on the job would fall for that…maybe.

“Problem,
Donny?” asked the other bouncer.

“Maybe,”
said the one blocking Alex. He turned his stubbly chin back to the younger man.
“Girls come out of the room first, buddy. Those are the rules.”

“Wow,
really?” Alex blinked. “That’s not what they said.”

“Yeah?”
Donny pushed Alex back a couple steps. “What’d the girls say?”

“Kill
him!” came Chance’s angry voice, loud enough to be heard at distance and over
the ambient music. “Kill that fucking—”

Neither
man listened to the rest. Alex stepped back, dropped low and swung the vodka
bottle hard against the larger man’s knee. His weapon held firm as the bouncer
stumbled to one side. Donny’s partner saw it all happen and came rushing
forward. Alex hurled the bottle with an accuracy developed several lifetimes
ago. It smashed as it struck the other bouncer’s face, bringing him down hard.

Then
Donny caught Alex by the wrist. He twisted hard, putting the younger, smaller
man up against the wall. Alex struggled, but knew Donny held all the
advantages—except one. That slight advantage jabbed up against the small of
Alex’s back as the bigger man grappled him. Though he had one hand immobilized
behind his back already, Alex slipped the other one around his back to grab the
dagger before Donny could do anything about it. He didn’t even need to draw it
from his belt. Tilting it properly would be enough.

The
blade slashed across the top of Donny’s leg, causing him to involuntarily jerk
back. He didn’t let go of Alex right away, twisting the younger man’s arm even
more painfully, but the break in the hold proved critical. Alex spun around to
get his arm bent the right way again as he drew the dagger. He slashed once,
this time cutting a nasty gash across Donny’s arm.

 The
curtains over the VIP room’s door flew open as Chance burst out into the
hallway. With his arm free now, Alex shoved the wounded bouncer at her and ran.
He caught a glimpse of Destiny as she stumbled out after Chance, winding up in
a slight tangle with the others. It granted him another second to flee, perhaps
two at the most. He almost made it to the end of the hallway, back toward the
main showroom full of people and lights and, Alex hoped, cover.

Then
Destiny let out a screeching cry louder than any fire alarm.

Alex
crossed into the open at the back of the showroom in time for everyone to look
back at the noise, and therefore right at him. Heads turned from tables, from
the pit, even from the stage. The club seemed to be back to “solo performer”
mode, complete with reverential silence for the woman on stage—now interrupted
by Alex and Destiny’s scream. This dancer was tall and curvy, still wearing a
blue lace bra and panty set when Alex arrived. Like the others, she was a
strikingly attractive woman, though everything about her from her curves to her
jewelry seemed just this side of too much. It was the sort of judgment Alex
didn’t make unless he suspected anyone around him might be a demon in a flesh
suit.

Glittering
electronic letters flashing by along the top of the stage revealed her name.
His shoulders slumped. “Karma?
Really
?”

Karma’s
eyes flared at the sound of Destiny’s call. She pointed to Alex and shouted in
a booming voice, “Seize him!”

Behind
him, Alex knew he faced two demons. Toward the front entrance, he saw some more
big bouncer types. To his right lay the audience, with a couple dozen men
leaving their seats or their spots in the pit. He didn’t see any glowing eyes,
but the facial expressions and body language suggested other big problems.
“Protect the mistress!” snarled out one of the bikers, producing a pistol and
leaping onto the stage. Others immediately followed, both from his gang and
from completely different walks of life.

“Gun!”
someone shouted. “He’s got a gun!”

Patrons,
performers, and waiters bolted for the exits. Other patrons rushed at Alex.
Bouncers and angry demon strippers chased him from down the hallway, too. Alex
took the only sensible option: he ran straight for the bar and dove over its
side.

Thankfully,
neither of the people behind the bar did anything to stop him. The man and
woman in black vests and bowties jerked away as he skidded across the top of
the bar and then flopped to the floor between them. The woman hustled out of
the way. The man found himself stuck when Alex grabbed his ankle. “Where’s the
shotgun?” Alex demanded. He didn’t even notice the change in his own voice. His
speech briefly lost its west coast accent as his brain slipped into
sensibilities developed in another life.

“What?”
blinked the bartender. “What shotgun?”

“You
don’t keep a shotgun back here?” Alex blinked. “What the hell kinda place is
this?”

“This
isn’t a fucking cowboy bar!” the bartender retorted, jerking his ankle free. He
climbed over the counter to get away.

Alex
didn’t bother to pursue. There
had
to be a shotgun behind the bar. Why
the hell wouldn’t there be a shotgun? What sense did that—?

A
baseball bat. He found a baseball bat in one of the cabinets behind a stack of
paper towel rolls. Grimacing, Alex snatched the weapon up in time to meet the
first of his attackers as they began leaping over the bar.

In
all his lives, he’d never fought with a baseball bat. Alex jabbed the base of
the bat into the stomach of the first man to come at him, then reversed to
thrust its head into the shin of the next one on the other side. He decided
that a club was a club. The next attacker felt the bat come down on his
shoulder, sending him down with a howl.

Alex
didn’t have much room to really swing it, but on the bright side, the bar
provided plenty of glass bottles he could throw.

* * *

“That’s
about what I can think of, unless we wanna start talkin’ about Tacoma or
something,” said Lester. He let out a grumbling sigh. “Plenty of stuff going on
down there.”

“I’m
sure,” said Lorelei. “I’ve been to Tacoma.” Though she presented a patient
demeanor, she felt a growing sense of concern. Alex no longer provided her that
constant flow of arousal and pleasure, which would be no issue had it not
happened all at once. He went from conflicted desires and sensual turn-ons to
nothing at all. Such an abrupt end was never a good sign. And there were twice
as many demons here as she expected.