Page 55 of Devil's Debt

Shay does, and Falcon as well...

But it’s clear that Hadrion is leading some kind of double life.

“Who knows,” she replies, and shrugs, and her answer isn’t reassuring. “All I know is that he pays me well, and doesn’t mind that I have a lot of tattoos, or that my nose is pierced. I sleep in every morning, and my apartment is way nicer than I could afford if I worked at any other club. So... the date...”

She gives me a gentle shove and grins.

“You fuckin’ minx, I love it. If anyone’s going to turn his eye and get him hot under the collar, it’s you.”

“I doubt it,” I say, and push off the desk. I want to go upstairs and sleep. My stomach twists, and I want to curl up and hide away.

“Oh, don’t say that,” Livvie’s tone is chastising. I bite my lip. What I really want?

I really want a Snickers bar. Like, badly. I need some chocolate in my face right now to help me deal with all of this crap. I could totally go upstairs and ask Elenora, but...

“How badly do you need me on the floor tonight? I was told you could cover for me,” I ask her and she cocks her head.

“We’ve got it. If you need a night off, go take it.” She watches me carefully though, with a frown. “But are you okay?”

I sigh and shrug slowly.

“I will be.”

The night airslips past me and instantly I feel better being away from all the noise and press of people. The street has a lineup halfway down the block, and I’m grateful to escape, a few twenties in my pocket from my share of the tip-out. There’s a corner store just a few minutes away, and I need the time to think.

Why had Hadrion looked so repulsed when I’d mentioned wanting to find my mom?

Was it the mom part, or the finding part? Or was it that it was such a basic request, not some Cinderella-request of making me into a famous artist or something like that?

My feet carry me quickly across the sidewalk, and I pass the line of waiting patrons. They’re not too unhappy, despite the length of the wait, and I hear laughter and excited voices as the bouncers pull back the curtains, letting another couple into the club.

A breeze blows through the trees that line the street, the branches swaying overhead, and the street lights glimmer and gleam. It’s late enough that most of the offices around the block have closed down, and there’s not many cars, a few taxis rolling up and down the boulevard.

But there’s still a lot of people out and about, and there’s no more danger walking down the street here in Uptown Detroit than there was in Lowtown, even in the middle of the night.

I approach a corner, the street lights growing sparser as I walk.

It’s a good night to be out. There’s a sense of anticipation in the air, and my footsteps echo off the buildings as I round a corner, the streets becoming less and less familiar.

Maybe Hadrion thinks it’s beneath him. That helping me find my mom is an unnecessary quest. But it’s what I want, and I’ll admit it, I’m stubborn. If he thinks it’s foolish, or not worth the time, or whatever, I can’t let it go.

I need to find her.

I need to see her face again.

“You shouldn’t be out here all alone,” a voice calls from behind me. I start and turn, and there’s a man approaching me. I freeze instantly because I know that face. “You found me,” he says, eyes dark as he moves from one dark pool of shadow along a building wall to another. It almost feels like he doesn’t pass through the light, just disappears at the edge of it and reappears again on the other side of it, getting closer to me with every passing heartbeat.

My throat closes up.

“What are you talking about?” I try to keep the tremor from my voice.

Cyrus, Cerberus, the dog of hell, spreads his hands wide in a mocking gesture of curiosity.

“The key calls you to me, because you and I are two halves of the same whole,” he says, words a puzzle that sets my mind to spinning. “Just like it calls to my master, because he aches to go where he can never set foot again.”

“You’re his guardian,” I breathe, and as he comes closer, I can see it now. He doesn’t even touch the light from under a street-lamp. He reaches the edge of it, vanishes, and reappears on the other side of the puddle of light on the cement. “You protect him.”

“Yes, protect him from women like you, problems like you,” he replies.

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