She Knows Pt. 01

I laughed loudly, and snapped out my whip. We fought, him on one side, me on the other. Time faded away, the chaotic sounds of New York's nightlife rolling over and giving way to the shuffling of nine to fivers getting their children ready for school and getting ready for work.

Brodie was closer to me now, a couple dozen feet away, axes swinging in his hands. His leather jacket was gone, and his shirt was soaked with equal amount of blood and sweet. He looked ecstatic.

"You look good with a whip in your hand," he yelled over the din of vampires.

I smirked as I flicked my whip and caught a bloodsucker around the neck. A twist of my wrist decapitated the thing, and it crumpled to the ground. I had to scream over the cries of agony coming from Brodie's vamp, "Flattery already got you in my pants, Brodie. Now come on, we were supposed to be done an hour ago."

He laughed as hacked the head off a vampire charging him. "Not my fault someone wanted to blow me before we left."

"It's my time of the month, Brodie. I didn't hear you complaining about it."

"Check your six," Brodie called, slicing and dicing with every step he took toward me.

I palmed my last knife, stiffened my arm, and whipped the appendage around my back like a sword. It was a clean cut through the ribcage of the salivating undead, but a messy spray.

I licked my palm and used it to wipe the blood off my face. A light caught my rapidly clearing vision, and my stomach dropped to the pit of my stomach. The sky was lightening. "Fuck," I growled.

Claws dug into my chest, ripping at the flesh. Pain burned me a second before the tissue knitted itself back together. It was a warning: I either got in the game or got killed. I launched myself at the vampire, ripping him apart with my bare hands since my guns were empty, my knives dirty, and I whip useless at close range.

Ugh, my father would kill me when I finally got back. For a brief second I thought about staying on the human side of the veil, but then I remembered how much I hated it. "Hurry the fuck up, Brodie. I'm going to get my ass chewed out, but I'd still like to have a little left at the end of it."

"Almost done," Brodie groaned, wrestling with one of the last vamps. He swung his blade down and slicing it to the vampire's neck. He wiggled the awe, twisted it, and took off half the thing's head and most of it's neck. The vampire screeched, swayed, than crumbled to the ground in a bloody, twitching mess.

I looked up at him and made an impatient gesture. "Come on, Brodie. We're done. Let's go."

He clucked his tongue as he strolled up to me, and took out a cigarette. "If your father heard you talking like that--"

"Yeah, yeah." I waved my hand. "He'd have me spread eagle for a week." Nothing worse than being a succubus who couldn't have sex or even masterbate.

He took a long drag off his cigarette before chucking it over his shoulder into the the pile of dead vampires. The burning embers caught on the blood and other fluid marking the warehouse floor and ignited instantly.

"So just keep cursing. That's a great plan."

I ignored Brodie and walked out of the building. The fire was building fast and I wasn't an Ankush demon who got a kick out of flames. Fire killed me.

Brodie stepped closer to me as I grabbed the pendant and summoned the veil. There were other ways to get from Earth to Ectar and vise versa, but I found this one to be the easiest. When my mother had given me the necklace for my fourteenth birthday, I hadn't really known what to do with it. And then my father had got all pissed, ruined the day, and I just stuck it in my jewelry box and left it there. On a whim, I decided to wear it with Brodie one day, and while we'd been talking about finding a place where the veil was weakest--usually in tunnels, basements, or freezers--the tendrils popped out, covered us, and transported us to the human world.

I sneezed and rubbed my eyes as the budding sounds of a walking city gave way to the sombers sounds of a sleeping one. Demons were nocturnal creatures; with the exception of witches, most demons slept during the day and wretched havoc from sunset until sunrise.

Brodie nudged me hip. "We gonna move or just stand here?"

I kicked my boot knife back into its hidden compartment and raised a brow at him. "I don't know, are we?"

He started to stroll and I picked up pace beside him. "That mouth's going to get in you trouble one day, Vera."

"Already has."

"More trouble."

"Not with my father around," I sighed. "I'm destined to a life of little troubles and near deaths."

"Sounds so boring," he drawled.

"Terribly."

We had walked about three blocks, when a dragon swooped down from the light gray sky and blocked our path. Jasper's talons scraped against the concrete as smoke puffed out of his wide nostrils and surrounded us. Glass shook in window panes, doors clattered in their frames, and disgruntled vampires shouted down the street at us from their homes with a lovely array of "Keep it the fuck down" and "I'll kill you bastards if you make any more noise."

Jasper was nonplussed. "Your father wanted you back four hours ago, Vera," he rumbled tiredly.

Oops, busted. "I had some problems. Killing vampires isn't exactly easy."

Jasper shifted from foot to foot, the ground rolling at the action. He hated getting in the middle of me and my father, especially because he was the one to translate the volatile pissing contests my father and I got into, which were one step up from bitch-outs.

He blew out a trail of smoke, "Don't kill the messenger, Vera. I'm just here to collect you."

Jasper was level headed and cautious to a fault. He never said anything without careful consideration, and never did anything without weighing the positives and negatives. He was stable, reliable, a trait not found in many demons.

"All right." I stepped away from Brodie and swung myself onto the dragon's back, grimacing at the wet sounds. "Sorry, Jas. More vamps tonight than I was expecting."

"I can wash."

I turned to Brodie and nodded. "See ya later." With two mighty flaps of Jasper's leathery wings, we were off, leaving Brodie staring up at us.

***

My palms were sweaty and I was shaking. I hated confrontations with my father--at least the ones I knew I wouldn't win. He wanted me back at one and now it was....

"What's the time, Jas?"

"Quarter to six."

Don't freak out yet. "Scale of one to ten, how pissed is my father?"

He chortled, "Eleven."

I wanted to hurl.

"Try not to worry, Vera," Jasper rumbled as he dipped and twisted between buildings.

That was impossible, so I tried for distraction instead. Beneath me was Ectar's version of New York, a giant dark blob. I looked up and saw the sun, a muted sphere of dark orange and red. The veil couldn't completely block the universe, just like it couldn't completely separate the human world from itself.

I took a deep breath in, forcing myself to remember that I just killed twenty plus vampires. I was a bad ass. I was amazing. I was one fucked duck.

We circled around an apartment complex on the Upper-East side of Manhattan, preparing to land. Demons didn't subscribe to human rules that dictated rent and permits and crap like that. Most of us set up shop in the ready-made homes that transferred through the veil. Which was why when I heard about humans seeing monsters in their closet or under their bed, I laughed. Oh yeah. We're there.

Jasper landed with a thud near a group of Banshees, who hissed at us and pulled their black cloaks tight around their bony bodies. I ignored the demonesses and waited for debris and dust to settle before climbing off Jasper's back. I wasn't a huge fan of Banshees since they lived on the lull before death--that brief flash of time when the soul knows it's time to go, but the body's a little slow to catch up.

Catriona hustled down the steps of the fifteen story complex my father called his 'home' and greeted us in that light-as-air voice of hers, "Vera. Jasper."

She'd been my nanny for most of my life and was my father's current mistress--though I wasn't supposed to know that. My mom and dad had a complicated relationship. Caia, my mother, came and went like the wind, which left my dad wide open to do what he wanted.

I liked Catriona though. She had a good heart, a strong head, and unfailingly saw the good in people. She kept me from becoming a bitter cup of tea. But she was a pixie--playing fast and loose with her heart. When my father drains Catriona dry and leaves her for another demon she better not be surprised.

I stepped away from Jasper and waited for him to compact his size, shrinking to a magenta-scaled humanoid.

The faery had been my nanny for most of my life and was my father's current mistress--though I wasn't supposed to know that. My mom and dad had a complicated relationship.

"Hunting." I pushed my hair away from my face and scrubbing at the blood clumped in my lashes.

Clucking over the vampire blood clinging to my leather jacket, dark jeans, turning my winter-white hair red, Catriona hustled me inside the house. "Didn't your father tell you to be back at 1?"

"He did." And I'm obviously not.

Catriona wrung her hands as we entered the house, the delicate wings at her back fluttering in tandem with her nerves. She stopped at the foot of the staircase leading to the second floor bedrooms. She swung her head to me, ginger curls bobbing around her petite face. "Maybe there is time to--"

"If I told you once," my father thundered, striding down the hallway toward me, heels clicking angrily against the polished wood. I stopped. "I've told you a thousand times--"

"And yet I still don't listen." I cocked my hip and crossed my arms, meeting him angry gesture for angry gesture.

He pushed Catriona aside and towered over me, six feet and a few inches of muscled, angry incubi. My father, like most sex demons, was insanely attractive and he knew it. Black hair fell in thick curls to his stubbled jaw, making his neck look longer, drawing demon's attention to the intricate tattoo that swirled up from his chest and arms, hiding in the hair on the back of his scalp.

"Veralyn Terradona Redkin," he started.

"Davion Cantricole Sar Redkin," I interrupted, mirroring his tone even though my stomach felt like it was in my throat. "Tonight I did my job. Have a complaint? File it with my boss. Oh wait--" I smiled saccharine sweet "--that's you."

His cheeks flamed red, the only color on his quickly darkening body. A second later, all he was was a blob of black with a starkly white triangle where his suit jacket pocket was and a striped blue and silver tie. He grabbed my upper arm, hand disappearing to mesh with the black leather, before recoiling. All at once, his regained his olive hued skin and lilac irises, staring at the sticky blood coating his hand. "What the hell is all over you?"

"Blood." I tapped the blade at my hip. "Vampire hunter, remember?"

He snapped the white napkin out of his pocket and whipped the blood before typing it around his hand. When he gripped me again, it was with far more force. "Do you know what you've done you little fool?"

I had a hunch he was going to tell me.

"Gordon is here. Waiting for you."

I paled instantly. Gordon was the leader of the giants and not a dude you wanted to be within ten feet of. Aside from being the ugliest motherfucker I had the horror of meeting, he was also a misogynistic, sadistic asshole. Made my dad look saintly in comparison.

"Why?"

My father started to tow me down the hallway he'd come from, past the stairs and at least one frightened servant. "If you'd bothered showing up on time, you would have a pretty little explanation. Now I'm telling you you're marrying Gordon."

"Excuse me?" I tried yanking my arm out of his grasp.

"Do that again and you won't have an arm."

He pushed me through a set of swinging doors and into his study. It was his favorite room in the house, a masculine clash of dark wood, light upholstery, and stained glass windows and lamps. I stumbled, almost falling into the sunken seating area in the middle of the room. "Gordon, I've brought your fiancee."

My eyes were twin flames of fury as my father passed me and took a seat across from the stairs. His body took up the entire part of the couch, leaving only the area across from Gordon and Oliva free. I would have eaten my own leg to get out of the situation, but if the click from the door told me anything, my father wasn't going to let me go for anything less than my heart.

My eyes were twin flames of I'm-killing-you-later-dad as he passed me and took a seat across from the stairs. His body took up the entire part of the couch, leaving only the area across from Gordon and his wife free. I vetoed the stairs and threw myself over the side of the couch, rubbing my feet into its tan leather. My dad's jaw clenched. I rubbed harder.

"Mr. President," Gordon's wife, Olivia, interrupted stiffly. "May we proceed?"

"Olivia, Gordon," I crossed my ankles, reclined on the couch, and gave the giant a smile. "Nice to see you too."

She turned to me, lips pulling back in a snarl. I forced down my gag. She was by far the ugliest creature I'd ever seen, outdoing her husband by a hairy mole or two. One thick slash of an eyebrow over eyes too small for her face, with pupils the color of dead fish. She was stout when shrunken down, about six feet with arms like fleshy baseball bats, a head shaped like a square, and what hair she did have was dishwater gray.

"Did I give you permission to talk?" she asked frostily, nasty breath reaching across to smack me in the face.

I sneezed and wiped my nose with the only part of my arm not covered in blood. "No, but I'm giving you permission you to live."

"I will relish breaking that spirit of yours."

I stood up and pushed the glass coffee table separating us at her. It hit her knees and she winced. "I'd like to see you try, bitch."

Gordon moved fast and threw the table out of the pit and into one of the walls. It shattered on impact, raining glass over us. I covered my head, catching a glimpse of the giant. His beefy arms were covered, straining the already stretched polo shirt he wore. He looked at me, ran his eyes down my body like I was exposed.

Fucking kill me now.

"Vera," my father chided, dusting glass off his shoulders and lap. "The only reason you are here is because Gordon wants you to be. I can send you up to your room if you won't behave."

I stiffened. "I'm not marrying him."

"You don't have a choice."

"I always have a choice."

My father looked at me and saw through me. Sometimes I wondered if he even gave a shit about me or if I was just like every other thing in his life: a possession. "Sit. Down."

"Make me."

Gordon was in front of me before I blinked. His smile was filled with piss yellow teeth. "I'll make you. It'll be your first lesson as my wife."

He raised his hand and drew it back. Holy shit, he was going to hit me. I didn't have enough time to draw up my hands, so I focused on readying my body to take the impact. It was a lot easier to get hit if you knew how to take it.

"Gordon," my dad interrupted, "she's not your wife yet."

The giant turned to my dad, eyeing him for a second, and finally nodded. He lowered his hand. "True." In a second, his arm was around my waist and I was pressed up against him. His mouth descended on mine, lips crushing and teeth creeking. I raised my knee to his groin, but he drew back before the blow landed. He smiled at me with bruised lips and flushed cheeks. "Not yet."

I wiped my mouth and spat at his feet. "Go fuck yourself."

"I'd rather have you do it."

"Get within five feet of me again and something gets broken."

He laughed before sitting next to his wife again. "I like that fire. It will warm my bed."

A shiver wracked my form, but I tried to cover it up by flopping back down on the couch. I yelped as glass cut into my jeans, and scrambled to brush the shards away only to cut myself repeatedly.

"Olivia," my father drawled, refocusing the conversation. "Do you have it?"

She nodded, withdrew a scroll from the bag beside her, and passed it to him. My dad unrolled it and scanned the document quickly. His lips turned up at the corners as he read until a full-blown smile transformed his face.

"A date?" He turned to Gordon's wife, rolling it back up.

"At your earliest convenience. As long as everything you promised was true."

My father shot me a glance that I couldn't decipher. "It is. My position should be proof enough."

"So you say," Gordon murmured, sliding an arm over his wife's shoulder and running his fingers over her collarbone. She shivered, but I doubted it was pleasurable if the healing bruises said anything.

I was lost in the conversation, and I really didn't like being lost when it came to my dad. Dangerous territory there. "What did my father promise you?"

"That your cunt is the tightest in Ectar," Gordon replied.

"Would that make you a big, bad demon, hmm? Must hurt to wake up, look down, and see something so... sad."

His eyes narrowed. "When we are married I will beat you the first time I fuck you. Every word you say hereafter will be one more blow you feel."

I whipped my head to my father. "You can't expect me to go through with this. Not after that."

"Twelve," Gordon said mildly.

My father eyed me coolly. "I expect you to do anything I tell you."

I climbed over the couches and hopped out of the pit, crunching glass beneath my boot. "Why are you doing this?" I asked in Balinese, the language of us: incubi and succubi.

My father snapped his neck to look at me. "Why don't you trust me?"

The question shocked me, took the wind out of my growing anger. My father rose from his chair and met my gaze. "Have I ever placed you into a dangerous situation I didn't know you could handle?"

What a way to phrase it. I was torn between feeling outraged that he put me in any dangerous situation and smug that he saw my strength. "No."

"Then sit down and act like you have some danned sense. If you shut up, you might learn something."

Never let it be said that growing up with my father was easy, but boy was it an adventure. He'd tried the princess-in-a-tower routine when I was a kid, but as I grew out of it, so did he. I both liked and hated that my father could look at me and see a woman, because he also looked at me and saw a citizen; one who conformed to his ways and followed his orders.

I'd inherited a few things from my father: his height, his jaw, his olive skin tone, and most assuredly his attitude. I wasn't programed to follow his dictates, just like he wasn't programmed to accept when they were rejected. But someone had to bend. And considering he had twenty plus years on me, it looked like I'd be the one mimicking bamboo.

I didn't move back to my seat, but I did kept my lips shut. For one, I didn't want to give Gordon any more reason to look at me, and for two, it was really hard to hear what they were saying if I was talking.

Olivia held out her hand for the scroll. "Tonight."

My father passed it to her and sat back down. "That seems fine."

"And call a witch," Gordon interjected. "While I have your word, Redkin, a third party is always best."

The men exchanged one of those penis-measuring glances. "Will Tanya suffice?" my father finally asked.

"Is she the only witch in your employ?"

"The only one I trust to certify this and keep her mouth shut."

Gordon nodded and turned his gaze back to me. "I'll agree."

The question to what? burned on my tongue but I had a pretty good idea to its answer.