Page 67 of Hidden Sacrifice
CHAPTER22
JAX
The leech of a vampire took yet another thing from me. Now, not only was I forced sensations of his every injury, but I also had to endure every time he got off to her. A quick round of realm hopping experimentation set up the boundaries. We only share pain or pleasure when we are in the same realm at the occurrence. If we enter the same domain with a wound, the pain does not transfer to the other.
The wounds didn’t physically manifest, but we could feel the pain as if there was an injury. Healing time was based on the rate of whichever of us was injured. If Jace were hurt, I wouldn’t get any relief until he felt relief. The only way to escape the sensations was not to be in the same realm simultaneously.
Every time Jace wanted to get it on with her, I needed to leave the realm. Getting kicked out of my domain is the last thing I expected him to be able to take from me.
I had started to hope there for a moment. I thought he was the answer to why I have always felt like a part of me was missing. Finally, I had answers and my literal missing piece. All I got from this was the feeling that everyone would be better off without me here.
But I was too selfish to leave her.
So far, it has been a week since Jace and Mor had sex, and he has managed to avoid other shared moments of pleasure. At least he wasn’t masturbating. A quick round of experimentation provedthatsensation transfers. He was the one subjected to the strange sensation for that test.
For now, we were back to hunting. We were hunting another demon with another pack.
Pack twenty-four, the pack that Ryan led, had poured over all the case files Jasper had given them. They had taken an interest in tracking down the mysterious Fachnan. Jasper had seemed really into it when he told us about it while Mor was transitioning into her celestial soul. We agreed to take on the co-pack assignment, and now that we were officially back in the field, that was the hunt we were working on. Covertly.
Sitting, nestled in the back of a bar in the human realm, we waited for Ryan and the others. It looked like the kind of bar Aggie would hang out in. Motorcycles lined the front while leather and tattoos seemed to be the evening theme. Mor looked like she belonged with long straight black hair and her runes on display. Her eyes ringed in black while her lips reminded me of the color of the inside of a pomegranate. Jace hadn’t bothered to change his form, not that he needed to.
Jasper and Justice both looked like people you would not want to fuck with. I made sure to send out a telepathic wall. Just a soft one to nudge someone away if they were to wander too close as I sat back in the corner of the room, naturally blending into the shadows. I sat back and watched the bar. Which of the faces were workers and which were drinkers? I found the manager easily, one that gave a fuck and helped their staff. A lot of small family-run bars are like that, though.
My eyes moved on to inspect the clientele. Most of them wore matching patches on the back of their vests. They seemed to be here to have a good time, drinking and carrying on with the human women. They either did not notice us, or we didn't bother them.
Mor had a tall drink in front of her that she casually sipped on. It may as well be water for all it would do for her. She had Justice’s poison immunity; she would need something way more potent than anything in this mortal bar.
Jasper held a beer lightly in his large hands. Even in his mortal form, he was a mountain of a man. The tattoos and full beard poking out of a three-piece suit screamed, try me if you dare.
Justice was the only one talking, and of course, he was talking to Jace. He wasn’t even wearing a fucking shirt. Just a bunch of criss-crossing straps across his shoulders that hung over his chest.
“How many people have you killed? Do you know the exact number and write them down in a little book that you keep under a little stack of books next to the foot of your bed?”
“Maybe a little less specific next time, Justice,” I said, rolling my eyes at them.
“I don’t know how many souls I’ve killed, let alone people. I’ve been in several wars against the fae. I killed many of their soldiers throughout the years as they pushed us further and further into the mountain’s shadow. I killed them without mercy and hesitation. I’ve also killed humans. Purposely and accidentally.” Mor watched Jace’s every word, looking at him like the more he talked, the more turned on she got.
“So, Justice, what’s your number?” Jace asked, a smirk on his face. He was enjoying this strange form of bonding.
Justice grinned, and I couldn’t help but lean in slightly. I didn’t even know how many souls Justice had ended. Not counting the ones we hunted. Everyone knew that going into Justice’s dungeon did not guarantee you would come out. Demon or not. He never seemed to lack volunteers either. Guess when you live for eternity, the possibility of death feels more like an adrenaline rush than anything else.
“Hey!” a voice called out. I looked up to see Ryan, Springfield, and Zebadiah striding toward us. The bikers moved effortlessly out of their way.
“Sorry we’re late,” Ryan said, his blonde hair a mess. It looked like he had just gotten dragged out of bed. His carefree smile said he didn’t care
They all grabbed seats that screeched across the floor as they joined our group. One of the servers came up immediately to take their order before rushing almost excitedly back to the bar. Humans could always sense that we were different, resulting in different responses. Some were drawn to it like moths, ready to soar or burn. Others were deflected like magnets, knowing instinctually they would not cut it.
Springfield flopped a folder onto the table before sitting back as if he had earned a prize. The only award he got was knocking into the server right as she was about to hand him his drink, causing a mess of broken glass and spilled liquor. Apologies tumbled from his lips as he jumped to help the poor girl clean up. I tuned out the rest of the drama as I picked up the folder.
I flipped the page open, finding a single report: possible ghost sighting, flickering lights, and a strange creaking noise. The complaint was reported to the church by an elderly human via handwritten letter. No follow-up from the human side was ordered.
I turned the page over in my hand, hoping for more information. This kind of hunt wasn’t even worth the point it was offered, and that’s if it happened to be a real ghost. There would be no easy way to extract the soul. The house would need to be unoccupied during the hunt, and elderly humans do not leave as often. Logistically, this was the kind of hunt you threw into the trash. Maybe the ghost would get powerful enough in a few centuries, and the location would be more favorable.
“I don’t get it,” I muttered, looking to Ryan as Springfield was busy wiping the floor with a rag while the server stood awkwardly and let him.
“It’s another Fachnan report. It was submitted yesterday. If all these reports are fake and hiding something bigger, I figured we should go and check it out. See if there is an old woman with a ghost in her house or not.” Ryan’s eyes shimmered an icy blue.
“If not, we trace this report back to Fachnan,” Zebadiah added, looking as excited as Ryan.
