Devious Things (The In-Between Trilogy Book One)

6.

      Neon lights dance across the walls of the dimly lit nightclub and I squint, annoyed that it is taking this long for my eyes to adjust. There was a time when I would have walked in here and instantly felt within my comfort zone but, these days, I have to work on blending in. 

      I bring the poorly made drink to my lips and try to appear as normal as possible. This is turning out to be more of a chore than I planned because being packed in a building filled with all sorts of supes is the opposite of what I have grown accustomed to. 

     It has been years since I dare to enter a place like this, one occupied by so many, and being on the run has made me overly cautious. It also doesn't help that I don't understand why this many people would want to get as wasted as they appear to be on a Wednesday night. Do none of them have to work tomorrow?

      It's funny how things change; I used to be social as hell and now I can barely hold a conversation without spending the whole time thinking of a way to end it. 

      "Are you sure this is the place?" I question in a hushed into my earpiece, eyes scanning the club in search of Jeremiah. 

      I spot him on the other side of the dance floor dressed in a maroon suit, a large-chested woman with pink-tinted skin and a barely-there green romper cozying up next to him.

     In the past, I might have lectured about allowing his hormones to distract him from a mission but I am lacking the care to do so these days. This job is no longer my everything and at least he is doing a better job at blending in than I am. 

      "I'm sure. I read over the email twice, just like a certain someone trained me to do in the past. The police stopped by here shortly after the first Ayngel's body was located a block away, only to leave an hour later with no memory of what happened while they were inside and an innate fear of what might happen to them if they were to ever return."

      I let out a soft 'tsk tsk' noise. "Typical humans. You would think that after all of this time they would have learned to call you guys first instead of trying to handle it on their own. Didn't the DSA provide law enforcement with a list of supe run businesses to avoid shit like that from happening? Makes sense they wouldn't have glanced at it. I will never understand what makes them feel like they are more equipped to handle this shit because it always ends the same for them; someone says the wrong thing to the wrong supe and then that poor human needs mental help for the rest of their life. The fact that someone went far enough to wipe their memories is a good sign; means they don't want to be recognized. Who is this source of yours anyways? What exactly dif they say?"

      "Are we honestly going to do this again?" I can hear the agitation growing in his tone. "You do understand that you report to me now, right? That means I am in charge and you are the one who needs to follow orders. You have some serious control issues you need to work on, Eden."

      "Control this." I shoot him the fingers. 

      He blows me a kiss in response. "Time and place, sweetheart. There is nothing more in this world I'd like other than to have a chance at controlling that. My source's name is Kylandra and I met her at that rave of half-bloods we busted a week after you stopped training. She knows we are looking for a Son and this is supposed to be one of their favorite spots. According to her, her roommate caught a glimpse of one while she was trying to score some black magik a week ago."

      "Sounds sketchy."

     "She says while looking like the sketchiest person in the building," he mocks. "Why don't you focus less on my sources and more on looking less sour? You're going to give us away if you don't relax. People usually come here to have a good time but you look like you've been taken hostage."