Escaping Death

Chapter 46

Solana

I should have known that everything comes at a price. Tate suggesting we get out of the house wasn't for my benefit, it was for his. He wanted to come here, he wanted to use me so he could pry his way into matters he has no business meddling in.

Nightshade isn't necessarily a secret, but it's not something to be broadcast, and it's definitely not someone that Tate should be fucking around with so casually. There's a certain protocol – a certain sanctity – to invoking that name. The people that come to order are at the end of their ropes, they're hanging on by a frayed strand and putting everything they have left to offer into the hope that this ghost of a person will bring them the peace that they seek.

Tate has no business with Nightshade and would be wise to leave well enough alone. Except he can't leave Nightshade alone – because Death is hunting him.

I watch Tate studying me, I can practically hear the wheels in his head turning trying to prioritize the questions he wants to ask me. He decides to start with, "how does it work?"

"I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific. How does what work?" I lean my back against the bar so I can face out towards the club and people watch.

"Him. Nightshade."

I shrug dismissively, "you've seen all there is to it. You name a name and he sets the price."

"You obviously are in contact with him and you must have met him once or twice."

"I can honestly say that I don't talk to him. Are you going to drink that?" I nod towards the martini glass of water.

Tate gives me a quizzical look, "do I have to?"

I shake my head, "no. Just wondering." I twist around and reach over for it, chugging it down. I love water.

A drop of it spills over the lip of the wide glass down the corner of my mouth, but before I can wipe it away myself Tate leans over me and kisses the dew drop away. A bolt of static electricity pulses across my skin at the contact.

"Tate —" I exhale his name.

He doesn't move, his lips hover above mine, his nose grazes my cheek. "Has he threatened you, Solana?"

Tate's voice is dense like fog and dark as night, it weighs on me and contours to my body. "Is he forcing you to help him here?"

He skirts an inked hand up my arm before caging me in against the bar. "We can't do our job if we don't know the truth, Sunshine."

"Which job is that? Babysitting me or hunting him?" I ask.

"Those two things are evidently not mutually exclusive. Make no mistake, I will find him." He says with unshakable conviction.

"What happens to him then? You kill him? For existing? Because someone paid you the right amount?"

Tate recoils from me without releasing me from his snare. "You want to judge us when he does the exact same thing? That's awfully hypocritical."

"You're not even in the same league as him," I snarl.

"Are you fucking him?" He bites right back.

Under normal circumstances I might be insulted, I'd be compelled to slash my claws across Tate's pretty face and walk away. But him asking me if I'm sleeping with Nightshade isn't insulting, it's ridiculous. It's so far off-base that it's hilarious. Which is why, rather than cutting him up, I burst out laughing in Tate's pretty face.

His icy blue eyes widen at my unexpected outburst. "Why do you care?"

Tate stares at me for several long moments and each second that passes has my smile fading a little more. His teeth groan from how tight his bite is and his eyes look like they're ready to ignite. The bar's wooden edge begins to creak and complain under Tate's intense grip.