Chapter 23

23

BONES

" T his is some fucking bullshit."

Reaper ignores me. Can't blame him since even I'm getting annoyed with myself and complaining. I can't help it. I should be in there with my mate, not Sydney. Sloan shouldn't even have to be in the same city as this mother fucker, let alone playing nice in this fancy restaurant Paul insisted on having lunch with her at.

Except Sloan insisted she play an active role in taking down her abusers and the fuckers who attacked the Knights of Hades trying to get back Kennedy.

Blaze had nearly gone apocalyptic when Kennedy suggested she go when we'd all met at The Styx to go over the plan. Sydney had to order the fire demon out of the bar before he risked burning down the place. I can't blame him after the way the Light Justicars tried to take her. Even if her mob boss ex-husband is officially dead, I wouldn't risk her going near one of the damned white frocked assholes again.

So Sydney volunteered, staring down a stone faced Reaper until he grunted in acceptance.

Which is why he's sitting next to me, one floor above the restaurant, watching the black and white security feed that I've pulled up on the laptop.

Sloan and Sydney are seated on the booth bench against a wall, the four-top between them and Paul cluttered with their mostly eaten lunches and drinks. Paul has spent most of the time telling the ladies about himself and his supposed life since leaving the justicars. Sydney struggles more than Sloan at pretending to believe the towhead, but she's managing to keep a pleasant enough expression on her face.

Paul had only been momentarily thrown when Sloan had showed up with Sydney beside her, before greeting the normally spite filled woman with all smiles. Sloan is wearing a rose printed sundress, the skirts floaty enough my hands even now itch to run up her creamy thighs. I hate that Paul gets to see how gorgeous she is, how much more alive she is now that she's free. And he wants to drag her back into chains. Sydney's foregone her usual black bar shirts and cut-off denim shorts, matching Sloan's style except she's wearing light denim jeans that hug her slender body and an off the shoulder cream blouse that has to be one of Kennedy's. When we'd first picked her up, Reaper's shoulders tightened and he hardly looked at her.

For a male that doesn't react to much, that was the equivalent of a scream.

On the screen in front of us, Sloan picks up the tea cup and sips at it while politely listening to Paul. Sydney is mic'd up, but Reaper is the only one whose ear piece is on to listen. I had to turn mine off when the fucker started complimenting Sloan's beauty and reminiscing about their relationship.

Our mate bond isn't closed off, not like it'd been when I was first confessing to her. But I'm getting nothing from her while she sits across from the man who stole her life and turned it into a nightmare. Fuckity fuck. I want this over. The longer she sits across from him, the longer she has to realize that she can do better than me. That she should leave him and me behind, forever.

"I can't watch this." I shove to my feet and move around the small table to pace the length of the hotel room. Reaper says nothing; only reaches to adjust the laptop to face him better. Like the restaurant downstairs, the room is equally as bespoke and luxurious despite being considered standard. I'd rather we be in a shitty hotel, so I could take the edge off this destructive urge coursing through me. Ripping apart purple velvet pillows filled with feathers would piss me off more, though.

While pacing, my eye catches on my camera as it sits innocently on the dresser's top. I'd grabbed it after seeing Sloan, looking like a gentle summer goddess today with her dress and loose blonde tresses flowing around her shoulders. I couldn't bring myself to take any pictures though. Not after yesterday's reminder of Myrah. It'd felt too much like taunting the universe.

"They're leaving." Reaper's pronouncement snaps my focus back to him. His dark eyes flick up to mine. "Paul suggested they continue their conversation on a walk. He suggested an ice cream shop two blocks over. The girls agreed."

I shove my hands through my hair before gripping the back of my neck and staring up at the ceiling. Reaper is packing up the small tech bag we'd brought while I try to settle the riot in me. I'm fighting the snarling beast part of me that demands I charge down there and refuse to let my mate spend any more time with a male who isn't me.

"It's part of the plan," comes Reaper's unnecessary reminder. "We wanted this."

I let out a long breath; I'm controlled enough that I can stick to the plan for now. We knew Xavius wouldn't show at the restaurant. We'd hoped that Paul would suggest they go somewhere else, somewhere they can get to Sloan more easily. Sydney knows they might go after her, too. Sloan didn't want her in any danger but after Sydney pulled out a slim switch blade from a cleverly hidden pocket along her leg, Sloan relented.

My phone beeps at the same time as Reaper's. I slide it out of my back pocket, seeing Stub's confirmation that the drone Blaze is flying has eyes on the hotel and restaurant's front door.

Reaper shoves the black tactical bag into my chest, his eyes grim. "Are you going to keep it together? You can't blow this, not if you want your mate safe."

"Fuck, this shit is hard," I reply as I march towards the hotel door and wrench it open.

"It never gets easier."

I look over my shoulder, frowning, and wonder if I heard Reaper right. But he looks as inscrutable as usual. When we get into the stairwell, I turn my ear piece on with a press of a finger. Immediately, I can hear Paul has pulled Sloan into a conversation.

About me.

"--I'm just worried about you, sweetie." His voice oozes with patronizing arrogance. "Anyone like him can't be good enough for you."

My stomach drops because Paul is right. I'll never be good enough for Sloan.

A completely un-Sydney like aww comes from her, as if she's fawning over Paul's concern. "What type of man would be good enough for my best friend? Someone like you?"

One side of my mouth quirks up in a smirk as Sydney's claws prick through her charming tone. Sloan is still quiet and I wish more than ever our mate bond was wide open. I need to know how she's feeling.

Paul replies as Reaper and I finally exit the ritzy hotel, far enough behind the trio we shouldn't be noticed tailing them.

"I admit I failed Sloan when I believed Father Xavius saying she no longer wanted to see me." He sounds remorseful enough I wonder if he might be genuine. I bare my teeth in a grimace, not giving a fuck when an older couple startle and hurry out of my way. I can see just see them, a block and a half ahead of us, and Paul reaches for Sloan and pulls her to a stop. She's too close to him, head tilted back to look at him. From this distance, anyone would think they were a couple. "One thing I love about you is how large your heart is and how understanding you always are. If you would find the place I am in your heart and let me grovel, I swear I'll prove myself to you."

Sydney's disbelieving snort is drowned out by a fire engine's siren. The traffic lights change, forcing me and Reaper to stop before we can cross.

"Paul--" Sloan finally goes to respond and I curl my fist. He doesn't deserve that smokey sweet voice of hers.

Cars roar through the street between me and my mate. The fire engine's getting closer, but all I hear is my rage-filled heartbeat pounding like a war drum when Paul pulls Sloan against him and kisses her. Reaper isn't fast enough to grab me as I charge into the street, leaping over the hood of a car screeching to a stop.

People rush out of the building in front of me in a milling panic. The crowd grows too quickly, too chaotically for me to shove my way through without truly harming someone. Then the approaching fire engine pulls alongside me and pops the curb, sending people scrambling out of the way as it parks.

"Sloan!" Her name bursts from me as a roar. I can't see them anymore. I stop giving a shit, shoving my way through the panicked crowd. All that matters is getting my mate away from the enemy.

Sydney's voice crackles through the ear piece. A high pitched screech has me ripping the tiny device from my ear in pain. Reaper is at my back, his massive hand digging into my shoulder as he yanks me towards the street.

"Where the fuck are they?" I demand, not caring if I'm not being respectful to my president. "Where's my mate?!"

He's got his phone pressed to his ear as we are forced to go with the crowd as emergency responders start herding us across the street.

We stop in the middle, the humans flowing around us like we're immoveable boulders in a river. His eyes hold the promise of death and the temperature around us becomes a bitter chill. "They took them. The drone was taken out. We don't have eyes on them."

Fuckity. Fuckity. Fuck.

The darkness I've always buried inside of me, the darkness that once filled the void of my tattered soul before Sloan, rises without control. I don't care that I'm surrounded by humans in broad daylight. Not even Reaper can stop me.

Shadows shoot up from the pavement around us, circling me violently like a tornado as my human form bleeds away and I erupt into my true, terrifying demonic form. The form in which I claimed Sloan as mine forever.

Screams fill the air around me as delicious terror floods my nose. I breathe in deep, seeking out the sweetest perfume buried in a kaleidoscope of city stenches.

There.

I throw my head back, bellowing. I send my shadows forward, the bone shards I always keep on me hidden within them like deadly missiles. Then I charge; a predator hunting down the ones who thought to touch my prey.