Page 6 of Dark Shadow of Guilt

Ely took a swig of his brew. Afterward, expelling a loud sigh. “You can’t. Like we’re gonna buy you an iTunes account and some Apple shit. Do you think about the babes? You shoulda fought your thirst and stayed in Vast. It smells good there, and the sounds are mostly giggles. Some guitar music. Beaches. Blue waters. Rolling hills of green. Sunlight. Stars at night in a clear sky.”

Remi added his two cents. “Of course, we prefer to live in Angor where we can watch the Scourges suffer. Besides, no politics here. No games. No kissing the OC’s perfect ass. We do fly to Vast to shag a goddess now and again. Though we have no qualms about doing the females here, too.”

“My drink,” reminded Dom. He perched on the stool, his working eye glaring at the bartender.

The guy shuffled off, returning with a goblet filled with a dark amber liquid and fruit. He slammed it onto the worn bar.

Dom guzzled the entire thing. He swiped the back of his hand across his lips. “What’s it called?

“A Dead Manhattan.”

“Excellent.” Dom rose, hauled back a fist, and let go at the bartender’s jaw. The guy flew into a rack of bottles. Only a few crashed to the floor and shattered as he slid onto his ass, legs out straight, his head lolling on his shoulders.

“Good one. Looks like you cracked his mandibular again. Got that out of your system, Dom?” asked Remi.

“Yeah. I’ve been feeling a little down. That helped.”

“I was just saying we need a KOC order,” Remi said, clapping his hand onto Ely’s shoulder.

“Even kill-on-contact extinctions have become boring. We need an interesting assignment,” said Ely.

Peeking over the bar, Dom said, “Get the fuck up, asswipe. Pour me another Dead Manhattan.”

Leaning forward on an elbow, Remi asked, “Where’s Ohngel? I thought you were on assignment with him.”

Ohngel was the fire-winged assassin, one of the Feard. He had mated an Aeternal, a witch named Indigo. The OneCreator, being a sap for true love, allowed their brother-in-arms to travel between here and the realm of Scath with his mate. The OC also permitted her to accompany him anywhere in OneWorld.

“Nope. I was flying solo. He and his mate are on something Indigo called a honeymoon,” said Dom.

A stranger interrupted, slapping a mottled hand on Ely’s upper arm. “Hey, aren’t you guys the Feard, the OneCreator’s winged assassins?”

Ely brushed off the guy’s misplaced palm and glared over his shoulder. “So what?”

The Scourge lowered his voice as if letting them in on a conspiracy. “I’ve got intel. What can I get for it?”

“Your teeth get to stay in your mouth,” said Remi.

When the guy buttoned up, Ely said, “One free pass when you do something stupid. And you will.”

The male thought for a moment. “This is worth more. What’s the one steadfast rule we must all obey?”

“Never run from the Feard,” said Dom.

The guy puzzled his brows, a wrinkle between them. “Another one.”

“Do not tell the OC to fuck off,” said Ely.

The guy sighed. “No. Another.”

“Do not bring an outsider onto Angor,” said Remi.

“Bingo.” The Scourge scratched his arm. A chunk of skin peeled off and fell to the ground, a sure sign he was a Flesh Eater.

Ely snapped out his wings. The ice-bladed feathers unsheathed and nearly decapped the stranger. “Oops. Not sorry.” Obviously having found the exciting assignment he was looking for, Ely glanced at Dom and Remi. “Here we go again. How long has it been?”

“Not long enough,” said the black-winged assassin. “Maybe three centuries?”

Ely tossed back what was left of his brew while Remi scrubbed a hand across his eyes.

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