Page 88 of Demon Found

Hellfire, I don’twantto see the boys. I’ve not completely forgiven Chano, Camille and Farrell are never apart, and Zephyr’s always sniffing around Professor Allegra’s rooms. They’ve got me completely tangled up in emotions I’ve got no damn right feeling.

“We’ll invite Val for dinner. Just that . . . dinner, my treat. But let’s get off campus.”

“No shopping. No bookstore either,” I warn her.

She grins, caught out. “Fine. No shopping this time. And the bookstore will be shut.” She gives a melodramatic sigh. “Disaster!”

Laughing, we pack up and head back to the dorms, the weekend stretching ahead of us.

That was a-ma-zing. I poke ruefully at the bean burger left on my plate. I couldn’t squeeze in another mouthful but it’s such a waste. The bistro is kooky with a capital K but the food is to die for. I kinda love that the kitchen staff are all ex-cons. Those guys have a passion for cooking. Maybe prison slop made them appreciate good food.

“He’s impossible.” Val slaps her hand on the table. “It must be the same when one of the Collectivo bosses is pissed at something—everyone gets it!”

“Cuelebre doesn’t equal Collectivo,” Naeve protests.

“The hell it doesn’t. C’mon. Those guys are a gang with a government stamp of approval. They’re far shadier than the Maveriks, especially with those creepy laboratories. Doesn’t Camille’s fatherrunthose things? They’re worse than the Maveriks, or they were before Chano’s uncles took over.” She looks pensive.

“What do you mean? Isn’t Chano the boss?” I don’t want to think about him, but my curiosity is piqued.

“Yeah, yeah. He is. Or he will be.” Val crooks an eyebrow at me. “You don’t know? He was too young to lead when his mom got ill. He’s the heir, but for now his uncles run the show. Once he graduates, he’ll take over, if he can oust them. His uncles are assholes, properly bad men.”

Naeve sniffs. “I didn’t think there were ‘good’ men in a gang.”

“Stop toeing the party line. The Collectivo are a shower of shits too, and everyone knows they work for the Cuelebres. Anyway, what I wastryingto say is that Chano is being a nightmare, even for a damn demon. The guy needs to get laid or something.”

Val looks pointedly at me, and suddenly my fork is the most fascinating thing on the table.

“I thought he’d asked out Camille’s friend?” Naeve interjects. My stomach roils. I shouldn’t have eaten so much.

“Belinda? I bloody hope not. She’s arrogant enough without that. Anyway, I doubt it. Chano’s rule is no dating until he finds his Aeternum. Fuck, yes, date, no.”

The topic moves away from Chano but my nausea stays. He made that heartfelt speech to me. Told me he thoughtIwas his Aeternum. The damn demon even had me believing him for a moment. A very long moment.Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.Thank fuck I turned him down.

We spill out the bistro into the night air. It’s still cold, but there’s an earthy smell, even here in the commercial district. The ground is waking up, and the promise of spring is in the air.

“We need some excitement!” Val wheedles. “C’mon, Fight Club will be fun.”

“Your definition of fun is very different to mine,” Naeve mutters. “Watching supes beat lumps out of each other is not fun.”

“Pretty sure a certain blue-haired barman is working tonight.”

Naeve’s eyes light up, and she tows Val down the cobbled street quicker than one of the furies. Laughing, I trail after them. I was right, Naeve has a thing for Beck.

It’s a different vibe tonight in the Wailing Moon, and a different crowd. Over Val’s shoulder, between hulking leather-clad figures, I spot the main bar. Beside it a set of stairs leads down to what the sign declares is Fight Zone: fight or die trying. Nice.

The scent of sweat and blood permeates the air. The basement writhes with bodies and the deep beat of the music reverberates in my chest.

Beck pops up from behind the bar, a frown on his face. “Hey, Naeve, didn’t know you were into this.”

“Someonethought it’d be fun. I’m not someone. I’ve never been, is it safe?” Naeve chews her lip, wrinkling her nose a little.

Grinning widely Beck scrubs a hand through his hair. “Tell you what, my shift is ending. Why don’t I get you drinks and then accompany you. Keep you safe. We can stand in the staff section.”

I nearly tell him to fuck off. We don’t need anyone to look after us. But I catch sight of Naeve fluttering her damn eyelashes. If this was a century ago, she’d freaking swoon.

Once we’ve fought our way down into the basement, it’s obvious the staff area is a good shout. We’re tucked away, slightly elevated from the crowd, presumably to give the bouncers a good view if shit kicks off. The whole room is visible from here, and the swarming mass of leather makes me nervous. The massive arena sits bang smack in the center of the room, bright white lights streaming down on it.

Two stewards push mops halfheartedly around the floor of the ring, sending blood splattering into the first row of the crowd. Shit. That’s a lot of blood. “Do people die here?” I glance at Val for reassurance but she’s leaning over the barrier chatting. She’s in her damn element in the chaos and adrenaline.

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