Lords of the Underworld Bundle (77 page)

“You don't even know where she is,” Reyes said more calmly, marveling at how protective the once stolid Lucien was.

Anya smiled a secret smile.

“Anya,” he warned.

“What?” she asked, all innocence.

“Aeron needs to be with us,” Lucien said.

“Aeron is no longer up for discussion,” Reyes growled. “You weren't there. You didn't see the torment in his eyes. You didn't hear the pleading in his tone. I did what I had to do, and I'd do it again.” He spun away from his friends. Glanced down. The puddles were now undulating fiercely against the jagged rocks lining the ground. They were still beckoning.

Deliverance,
they whispered.

Just for a little while….

“Reyes,” Lucien called.

Reyes jumped.

“O
RDER'S UP
.”

Danika Ford caught the two steaming plates that slid across the silver warmer. One a greasy hamburger, hold the onions. The other a chili dog with extra cheese. Both were overflowing with heart-attack-in-the-making fries and wafting delicious scents to her nose, making her mouth water and her stomach rumble.

Last thing she'd eaten had been a bologna sandwich before bed last night. The bread had been crusty and the meat ripe. Sadly, she would have paid good money for another crusty, overripe sandwich just then. If she'd had any money, that is.

Three more hours till her shift ended,
then
she could eat again. Three feet-throbbing, backbreaking, limb-shaking hours. She wouldn't last.
Don't be a princess. Chin up. Game on. You're a Ford. Built for strength and all that jazz.

Despite the pep talk, her gaze fell to the plates. She swiped her tongue over her lips. Maybe a nibble. What could it hurt? No one would know.

Her arm rose before she could stop it, her fingers reached…

“I think she's stealing one of my fries,” she heard a man whisper.

Another whispered back, “What'd you expect from someone like her?”

Danika froze. For a moment, her appetite was forgotten and a million emotions swept through her. Sadness, frustration and embarrassment were the front-runners.
This is what my life has become.
From sheltered daughter to woman-on-the-run in a single bleak night. From well-respected artist to take-whatever's-dished waitress.

“Like to say I'm surprised, but…”

“Check your wallet when we leave.”

Embarrassment edged ahead of the other two. She didn't have to see the men to know they were watching her with hard, judging eyes. Three times they'd come to eat at Enrique's and all three times they'd given her self-esteem a good workout. It was weird, too. They never said anything harsh, always smiled and thanked her when she brought them something, but they just couldn't mask the distaste shining in their eyes.

She'd dubbed them the Bird Brothers, so badly did she want to flip them off.

Don't bring attention to yourself,
her common sense piped up. These days, it was the only rule she lived by.

“I better not catch you trying to sneak food again,” her boss snapped. Enrique was the owner, as well as the short-order cook. “Now, hurry up. Their food's getting cold.”

“Actually, it's too hot. They might burn themselves and sue.” The plates were obscenely warm against her cold skin—skin she hadn't been able to warm in weeks. Even now, in the heat of the diner, she wore a sweater she'd purchased for $3.99 at the thrift shop down the street. But to her consternation, the burn from the plates never seeped inside her.

Surely
something
good would happen to her soon. Weren't good and evil supposed to balance each other out? Once, she had thought so. Had believed happiness waited around every corner. Sadly, Danika now knew better.

Behind her, past the wall of windows that provided a mocking view into the pulsing heart of L.A.'s nightlife, cars whizzed and people strolled, carefree and laughing.
Not too long ago, that was me.

Danika had taken the job here, working as many hours as possible, because Enrique paid her under the table, no social security number required. Cash, no taxes deducted. She could disappear at a moment's notice.

Was her mother living like this? Her sister? Her granny—if she was still alive?

Two months ago, the four of them had decided to take an extended vacation in Budapest, her grandpa's favorite city.
Magical,
he'd always said. After he died, they'd gone to celebrate his memory and finally say goodbye.

Biggest. Mistake. Ever.

They'd soon found themselves kidnapped and locked away. By monsters. Real, honest-to-God monsters. Creatures the Boogeyman probably searched his closet for before daring to go to bed. Creatures who sometimes looked human and sometimes
didn't.
Every so often, Danika had caught a glimpse of fangs, claws and skeletal faces underneath their human personas.

In a moment of luck, she and her family had been rescued. But she'd been captured again, only to be released unharmed. Unharmed but warned:
Run, hide. You'll be hunted soon. If you're found, you and your family are dead.

So each of them had run. They'd split up, hoping they would be harder to find that way. They'd hidden, shadows their new best friends. Danika had first traveled to New York, the city that never slept, trying to lose herself in the crowds. Somehow, the monsters had found her. Again. But once more she'd managed to escape them, hitching nonstop to L.A., each day making just enough money to survive and pay for self-defense lessons.

In the beginning, she and her family had maintained contact every day by calling and leaving disposable cell-phone numbers with trusted friends. Then Danika's grandmother had gone silent. No more calls.

Had she been found by the monsters? Killed?

Last time Danika had heard from her, her granny had arrived in a small town in Oklahoma. She had friends there, had known better than to travel anywhere familiar, but at her age had probably grown weary of running. Yet even those friends had not heard from her in weeks; Grandma Mallory had gone to the market and simply never returned.

Thinking about her beloved grandmother and the pain the woman might have endured caused grief and sorrow to well up inside Danika's chest. She couldn't call her mom or her sister and ask if they'd heard anything. They, too, had stopped checking in. For everyone's safety, her mom had said during their last conversation. Calls could be traced, cell phones confiscated and used against them.

Her eyes burned and her chin trembled. No.
No! What are you doing?
She couldn't think about her family now. “What if” would paralyze her.

“You're wasting time,” Enrique said, tugging her from her dark musings. “Shake your ass like I told you. Your customers are waiting and if they send back their food 'cause it's cold, you're going to pay for it.”

She wanted to throw the plates at him, but “No attention!” was screaming inside her head, so she just smiled and pivoted on her heels, ratty sneakers squeaking. Chin high, back straight, she marched toward the table with dread congealing in her stomach. Both men watched her with those hard eyes. They were clearly middle-class with their inexpensive clothes and average haircuts. Tanned and buff as they were, they could have been construction workers. If so, they hadn't come straight from a job. They were clean, their jeans and T-shirts unstained.

One had a toothpick sticking out from between his teeth and was rolling it from one side of his mouth to the other, the motions faster and faster the closer she came. Her hands were shaking from fatigue, but she managed to set the plates in front of each man without accidentally dumping the food in their laps. A lock of inky hair escaped her ponytail and fell down her temple.

Hands finally free, she hooked the strands behind her ear. BB—before Budapest—she'd had long blond hair. AB—after Budapest—she'd chopped it to shoulder length and dyed it black to alter her appearance. Another crime to lay at the monsters' door.

“Sorry about the fry.” Despite their clear disdain for her, these men were good tippers. “I wasn't trying to eat it, just to keep it on the plate.”
Liar.
God, she never used to lie.

“Don't worry about it,” Bird One said, unable to mask the slight twinge of irritation in his voice.

Don't send the food back. Please don't send the food back.
She couldn't afford the cut in her pay. “Can I get you anything else?” Their cups were almost full, so she left them in place.

“We're fine,” Bird Two replied. Again, polite enough words but uttered in an unmistakably waspish tone. He waved one of the paper napkins and settled it on his lap.

She caught a glimpse of a small figure eight tattooed on the inside of his wrist. Surprising. Had anyone asked her to bet, she would have put big money on a dark-haired female with a bloody hatchet coming out of her back.

“Well, holler if you need anything.” She forced herself to smile, knowing she probably resembled a feral wolf. “I hope you enjoy your meal.” Just as she was about to move away—

“When do you take a break?” Two asked abruptly.

Uh, what now? He wanted to know when she went on break? Why? She doubted he'd asked for romantic reasons, since he was still watching her with mild distaste. “I, uh, don't.”

He popped a fry in his mouth, chewed, then licked his grease-smeared lips. “How about taking one tonight?”

“Sorry. Can't.”
Keep smiling.
“I have other tables.” She should have added: Maybe next time. Encouragement might have softened him at tip time. But the words clumped together in her throat, forming a hard knot.
Go, go, go.

Pivot. They disappeared from view. Her smile—gone. Six quick strides and she reached Gilly, the only other waitress on duty tonight, who stood in front of the drink counter, filling three plastic cups with different sodas. Though Danika should've been checking on the patrons she'd used as an excuse only seconds before, she needed a moment to fortify her composure.

“God save me,” she muttered. She flattened her hands on the bar and leaned forward, cocking her hip. Thankfully, a half wall blocked her from the customers' view.

“He won't.” Gilly, a sixteen-year-old runaway—eighteen if anyone asked—flashed Danika a tired grimace of sympathy. They'd both been working fourteen-hour days. “He's already given up on us, I think.”

Such pessimism seemed wrong in someone so young. “I refuse to believe that.” Lying must have become second nature to her. Danika wasn't sure God cared anymore, either. “Something wonderful could be days away.”
Yeah. Right.

“Well, my something wonderful was that the Bird Brothers sat in your section again.”

“Who are you kidding? They smile at you as if you're the Sugar Plum Fairy and they smirk at me as if I'm the Wicked Witch of the West. I have no idea what I did to them or why they keep coming back for more of me.” Second time they'd come in, she'd feared they meant to pull her back into the nightmare she'd just escaped. But they'd never revealed a monstrous side, so she'd eventually relaxed.

Gilly laughed. “Want me to shank them for you?”

“Now, Gilly, that would be a travesty. Shanking's a felony and cuffs are so not a good look for you.”

The girl's smile slowly melted away. “Don't I know it,” she muttered.

Part of Danika wanted to tell her to go home; life with her mom couldn't be this bad. The other part admitted that life with Gilly's mom could indeed be much, much worse. The terrible things Danika had seen on these darkened streets, even in the short time she'd been here…women with deadened eyes selling their bodies. Beatings. Drug overdoses. Whatever Gilly's mother had done to drive the teenager to the streets had to have been severe.

Once, Danika had been able to delude herself into thinking the world was a safe and magnificent place, full of possibilities. Now, her eyes had been opened.

“Are you going to class in the morning?” she asked, propelling them into a safer conversation. She'd only worked here a week, but every day of that week she and Gilly had taken self-defense lessons, learning how to kick, hit and yes, kill with lethal precision. Besides her family, those lessons were the only thing Danika lived for anymore.

She would never be helpless again.

Gilly sighed and faced her. Danika thought again that she looked too young and fresh to be leading such a life of drudgery. Dark, chin-length hair, as straight as a pin. Big brown eyes. Honey-kissed skin. Average height, curvy body. She was innocence mixed with haunted sensuality. Right now, she was the only friend Danika had.

“My feet will loathe me forever, but yeah. I'm going. You?”

“Absolutely.” Friends weren't something she could afford these days, but Danika had taken one look at the sad, brave girl and felt an instant kinship with her.

“Maybe we'll overpower the instructor again. Now,
that
was fun.”

A chuckle escaped her, the first in what seemed forever. “Maybe.”

A bell rang, hacking through the cackle of voices that echoed across the diner. Another order was up. Neither of them moved, however.

“Gotta tell you,” Gilly said, anchoring her hand on her hip. “When Charles told us to come at him, rage, like, took me over. I could have killed him and giggled about it later.”

“Me, too.” Sadly, those words were not a lie.

Picture me as your enemy and show me what you've learned so far. Attack me,
Charles had said, and both of them had.