30. Dani

The flight to Houston was a little over an hour, but it was one of the most awkward hours of my life.

Despite her initial displeasure when learning that another human would be accompanying us, Catalina had been frighteningly genial the entire way, allowing us to freely indulge in the extravagance that came with owning your own plane. She seemed particularly interested in showing off the cylindrical fish tank filled with all manner of exotic rarities located in the back bedroom, although I'm convinced that she was just trying to find a willing victim to feed on during the trip.

Regardless of her unusual hospitality, I made certain to keep myself—and Ashe—at a distance. I still didn't trust that vampire and I sure as hell wasn't about to let her sink her claws into Ashe while I was there. She could starve for all I cared.

For the moment Catalina had conceded in her attempts to lure us to the bed, choosing instead to sit in the center of a U-shaped sectional at the front of the cabin for the remainder of the flight and sip on several martinis as she scrolled through pages of digital documents on the tablet before her. But how long until her appetite reared its ugly head and she came calling on Ashe to satiate her hunger?

Rose, on the other hand, had seemed determined to get under Ashe's skin. She really took a liking to calling her a 'devil bitch' of all things, and it didn't take long for me to question whether inviting the blonde along was actually a good thing. She did love pushing buttons, only the one she was pushing now was connected to a lethal powder keg that could blow up at any given moment. Maybe introducing her to an open bar inside an airplane full of supernaturals wasn't the best idea, but thankfully she had decided to take a small power nap in the last twenty minutes and left us to our thoughts.

Marco had really been the only sane one throughout the whole flight, but that was probably because he was too scared to move. The plane jolts and his knuckles turn as white as the chair, gripping the arms of his window seat so tightly that I was afraid he'd snap them off. But I could sympathize with his anxiety; I wasn't too fond of flying, either.

Another jerk shakes the cabin and instinctively my hand reaches out for Ashe, our fingers intertwining atop the white sofa we were seated on. My insides spark at the warm contact, and as she gives my hand a gentle squeeze my heart palpitates in my chest. It was moments like these, these little opportunistic touches, that made all of the insanity that I've been through worthwhile.

A smooth voice crackles to life over the intercom system, the pilot's smile evident in his tone as he makes his announcement: “Ladies and gentleman, we have been cleared for landing. Please stay seated as the flight attendant makes her final rounds.”

A stewardess emerges from the front of the plane, gathering empty dishes and placing them on her cart as she makes her way to the back, and I catch myself analyzing every inch of her, looking for any telltale sign of inhuman traits—though, truth be told, I wasn't exactly sure what I was looking for. She had made herself scarce when we boarded back at Tri-Sun Regional and I only caught a glimpse of the pilots before takeoff, but I was curious as to which of the supernatural races they belonged to.

“She's human,” Ashe mumbles next to me, as if she could read my thoughts. “And so are the pilots, in case you were wondering.”

Weren't the supernatural all about secrecy? Wouldn't employing humans be breaking their own rules?

“Do they know about the, well, you know?”

“No. They're contracted out and rotate flights often enough that any chance of them seeing things they shouldn't is minimal. Still”—the redhead sits back with a shrug—“there have been a few incidents where a flight attendant goes missing between stops. But that's a problem for Public Affairs to handle.”

“As we start our descent, please remain in your seats for your safety. In ten minutes we'll be arriving at Brookshire Executive Center, a proud partner of the Paradigm Aviation Group.”

I glance over at Ashe and she leans in. “They're a shadow company of the Tribunal,” she whispers, her hot breath in my ear causing goosebumps to prickle my skin. “It's a global network of their own private operators. The flight crew might allow for human employees, but every person staffed at each of these little airports is one of our own.”

“Aren't they worried that people might use their services?”

“What better place to hide than in plain sight?” I raise a quizzical brow and Ashe decides to elaborate. “Humans use their network sometimes, mostly for corporate travel, but otherwise it's the supernatural's primary means of flying outside of public airports. It's one of the perks of living in the Wards and ensures that no, uh, accidents happen that would raise any suspicion.”

“Wards?” I've heard her mention those before, but I've never actually heard an explanation as to what they were. And since we had a few more minutes to spare before we land, now seemed to be a good a time as any to learn a little bit more about Ashe's world. After the bottle of whiskey she drank during the trip—most of which she had chugged while Rose tried to goad her—she seemed more than willing to indulge my curiosities. I didn't think it wise to squander this opportunity while she was feeling so forthcoming.

“Large areas that are broken up into separate precincts, sort of like counties, and help the Tribunal better track any supernaturals that live within their jurisdiction. Trinity Valley sits in the Second Precinct of the Fourth Ward and Houston is in the First Precinct.”

Jesus, that was at least three hundred miles apart. “Are there more of these Wards out there?”

“There's thirteen total in North America and many more overseas. Those that live within them are considered protected under the alliance, so long as they abide by the Tribunal's laws.”

“Protected from what?”

“From each other, and maybe from their own stupidity. Each race has their own rules they abide by, but the Tribunal supersedes all of that. Public Affairs and the department I work for only answer to them and help enforce those laws.”

“You police an entire Ward?” Is that why she was always gone for so long?

She shakes her head. “No, I'm only responsible for the First Precinct. Unless I'm transferred again, I don't have authority over any other.”

Transferred? Could she really just up and leave so easily with everything that's going on?

“How often are you transferred out?”

“Every now and then, once I've overstayed my welcome. Immortals can draw a lot of unwanted attention if they stay in one place for too long. Vampire families go through the same relocation process every couple of decades, only theirs is more like swapping real estate and involves a lot more paperwork to make it look legit. The Tribunal's all about their paper trails.”

“You must be well-traveled.” She replies with a smirk and my face reddens. “So why Wards? What makes these locations so special?”

“Their borders follow what you might call ley lines. They're places where Veil energy resonates the strongest in this realm.”

“Veil energy?” That was new.

Ashe pinches the bridge of her nose and I can feel her interest in our conversation waning. “Dani—”

“Please! I-I want to know.” I hate that I sound like I'm begging, but I really wanted to know more about the world she came from. The world that I was now a part of. “Just. Humor me, Ashe.”

Her hazel eyes flick over my face, those gorgeous golden brown hues swimming with uncertainty and maybe just a touch of intrigue, before a heavy sigh whistles through her nose. “Do you believe in other dimensions?”

Say what now?

Taking my silence as her answer, Ashe closes her eyes and tilts her head back. “Earth isn't the only realm to exist, you know. It is the only one that touches the others, though, and was even created from bits and pieces of them eons ago. I believe your science calls it the Big Bang.” She smirks again and I briefly wonder if she's messing with me. Because the alternative couldn't possibly be true. “There are many other realms out there, places beyond your wildest imagination. They're known as the Otherworld and the Veil is the boundary that separates them. Some of that energy seeps into this world, stronger in some places and weaker in others, but the Veil acts as a shield that protects earth from being destroyed by all of that energy. Like the ozone layer, I guess, but for interdimensional energy waves rather than radiation from the sun.”

I must have hit my head somewhere and entered the Twilight Zone. And yet, strangely, it all somehow made perfect sense.

“Are these other realms where demons come from?”

She nods. “The Wards once acted like doorways. Spirits—or demons, as you now call them—would freely cross over from the Otherworld and many came to be known as the legends you now tell yourselves, folklore of a forgotten time.”

“Can people cross through the Veil?”

“I've told you before that souls are unique to humans, remember? The Veil has no affect on them, but the surge of energy takes a heavy toll on their mortal bodies if they try to cross that threshold while still alive. And demons?” She snorts. “Now that the doorways are closed, not even demons can cross over so freely anymore.”

“Why did they close?”

“No one really knows. It happened almost two thousand years ago. Some say it's a result of mortals losing their belief in the mythical and others believe that a higher power played a hand in it to protect this realm from the dangers beyond the Veil. But, as always, the witches are . . . resourceful. They found ways around the seals, such as riftwalking their soul or using backdoors—small openings they create in this realm to link two points together—to transport themselves from one Ward to the next. Or by casting a conjuring spell to open a channel in the Veil and pull something through from the Otherworld.”

“Like a demon?”

She nods again and I slump back, taking a moment to let this all sink in. Wards, other realms, riftwalking. Doorways and backdoors.

Backdoors? That's what she said I open every time I summon her. “Is that where you go when I-when the ring calls you?” I feel her hand clench under mine and guilt gnaws at my insides. “Does it hurt?”

“It feels like my soul is being ripped from my body as I'm torn apart and pieced back together. It's why witches don't do it that often. The toll would eventually kill them.”

“Ashe, I'm so sorry.”

“Don't be.” A light huff rumbles in her throat as her thumb caresses the silver band around my finger. “You didn't know what sort of magic you held in your hands.”

It still didn't make it right, though, or make me feel any less guilty about it. I never wanted to cause her pain and I still don't know how the whole summoning thing really works. But there was so much that I wanted to know and I wasn't sure if I'd have this chance again.

“So this Veil, is that where magic comes from?”

“Witches, you mean?” She grunts. “Some humans are born with a sort of connection to the Veil's energy, although modern science would probably link the phenomenon to an enlarged pineal gland or something—anything to rationalize the strange and unusual. It's hereditary so the defect passes down through the bloodlines, but it can also skip entire generations before it reappears.”

“So magic is just a biological defect?” At her hum I purse my lips. “With the way you've talked about them, you made witches sound so powerful.”

“Never underestimate a witch, Dani. Weaving magic is a learned talent and it works just like any other muscle, you need to train it in order to grow stronger. Most witches have been training on how to wield magic their entire lives.”

A magic . . . muscle? “How do you even train something like that?”

“Covens help with the discipline. Witches draw their strength in numbers, though most covens tend to congregate with those of a similar, uh, disposition.”

“What disposition would that be?”

“All witches are born with a talent. An affinity, I guess, to weave a certain type of magic. It's like someone who's born with a painter's hand or an analytical brain, they're naturally gifted with that particular ability.”

“Can they learn other types of magic?” Was there even more than one kind?

“Anyone has the capacity to learn something through hard work and dedication. Witches are no different. They have the capacity to learn beyond the magic pool they were born into.”

“Magic pool?”

“Veil energy infects everything, it's all around us. Magic is derived from that energy and because of that it can be highly volatile. They call it the Triquetra and it holds influence over the physical, metaphysical, and spiritual aspects that govern this realm. Blood, mind, and soul magic, in witch terms. Star alignments and astrology jargon have a lot to do with determining which pool a witch's power flows from, but the magic they weave is drawn from at least one of those aspects.”

“Has anyone ever been able to draw from all three?”

“Not in centuries, and for good reason. There's a cost to using magic, you see, and the more a witch draws from the Triquetra the heavier the toll. Most find it hard enough to learn how to control the powers they were born with and so many live out their entire lives only practicing one form. But sometimes you'll get a witch who tries to overextend their reach—that is, tap into the magic from all three pools. Savants are no joke, and witches have died from tapping in too deep. Some have even killed in their pursuit of more power.”

“How do you know so much about all of this?”

Ashe shrugs. “When you've lived around it for as long as I have, you kind of pick up a thing or two. Knowledge is power or whatever, and knowing what you're hunting helps in not getting killed.”

That made sense, I guess. But—“How could we not know about any of this? This all seems too big to have stayed hidden for so long.”

“The Tribunal keeps a tight hold on the supernatural and only allows the narrative they prefer to be told, so long as it protects the secret of our existence. What little that does manage to escape them only ends up becoming distorted by you humans to the point where you wouldn't believe it if it slapped you in the face.”

“Like legends and myths?”

Ashe scoffs, rolling her head in my direction as her gaze meets mine once more. “More like exaggerated truths, and anything that threatens that narrative or breaks their laws is liquidated. Why do you think they keep Reapers like me around to begin with?”

That uncomfortable thought had crossed my mind more than once. “How many of you are there?”

“Like me?” Ashe winks, giving my hand another squeeze, and my heart melts. “Only one.”

“You two are disgusting.”

I shoot Rose a sidelong glare as she removes the sleep mask from her eyes and sits up on the couch opposite of us, stretching her limbs as a yawn escapes her mouth. Where did she even get one of those, anyway?

“Did you have a nice cat nap?”

“I could use another Negroni,” the blonde mumbles, pouting as the stewardess walks by and takes her empty glass. “That shit was delicious. How have I not had one before?”

“You already had two Moscow mules.” Was she trying to get drunk?

“And believe me, it still isn't enough to make the sight of you two getting all cozy taste any better.”

Heat flushes my face, spurred by the twinge in my chest as Ashe releases her grip on my hand. “Jesus Christ, Rose, you promised to behave!”

“And I will, Dani girl! But I didn't promise to sit here and listen to you get sucked into Red's supernatural bullshit.”

“My what?”

Oh good lord.

“We have now arrived at Brookshire Executive Center. Please wait until we've safely docked before departing the plane, and thank you again for choosing to fly Paradigm Aviation.”

The sound of something breaking disrupts the tension and I turn my head to see Marco rising from his chair, a splintered armrest lying at his feet. “Can we get off this damn tin can, yet?”

I couldn't agree more.

***

The car ride to Nadia's was just as long as the damn flight.

As an extended service, the airline offered our party two shiny black limousines to chauffer us to our destination. Unfortunately, the sedans were only big enough to accommodate a few of us at a time and, since none of us were too keen on sharing a seat with a vampire, Catalina had insisted that Ashe ride with her.

Despite my protests, Ashe assured me that it was fine and Rose was all too eager to have me to herself. But the salacious glint in Catalina's eye as they slid into the back of their limo was enough to send my blood spiking.

I didn't want to spend the entire drive thinking about all the things they were doing while we navigated through traffic to the other side of Houston, but thoughts of Ashe and that devil getting it on in the back seat still managed to assault my mind. Rose and her colorful commentary most definitely didn't dissuade me from the idea, either.

“Can you blame Red, though?” Rose muses as we merge onto the freeway. “Vampire or not, Catalina's freaking hot! Hell, I'd probably bang her in the back seat of a car, too, if I was a lesbian demon.”

I grunt in reply as I glare out the window. It was probably better if I kept my comments to myself.

“It's more complicated than that,” Marco huffs. I can feel his gaze on me and I know he's only saying that to placate the jealousy that was coiling in my gut, but it was honestly the last thing I wanted to hear.

'Why are you so infatuated with her, anyway?' Rose's words from what feels like forever ago echo in the back of my mind and the knot in my stomach tightens.

Why did I care? It's not like Ashe hasn't shared her bed with that woman before, and probably many others just like her. And it's not like she was ever going out of her way to touch me or, hell, to even be near me. Jesus, I practically threw myself at her last night and she all but slammed the door in my fucking face!

I feel a growl gurgle in my throat and quickly swallow it back down. We were here to get her damn ring off my finger. Once that happens we'd part ways and it would be like these last few weeks never even happened. Like the six months I spent ogling her from afar as she waltzed into the café like a living goddess, wondering what it would be like to just talk to her, were nothing more than a dream. Whatever fantasies I had of us, whatever this pull I have towards her is, whatever these feelings are every time I'm close to her or even think about her—none of it matters if it's all one-sided.

So why do I fucking care?

“Holy shit,” Rose murmurs, drawing me from the pit of my thoughts. “We're staying here?”

I follow her gaze as our driver turns into an extravagant gated community and my jaw nearly drops.

Large red oak trees lined either side of the winding street like soldiers standing at attention as lavish Mediterranean-style townhomes towered behind them. Every million-dollar lawn was a verdant green and meticulously manicured and, despite the leafy canopy that shaded the road, not a single stray leaf could be seen. They must pay a fortune in homeowner's association fees to have curb appeal like that.

The further into this luxury community we venture, the bigger and more luxurious the homes seem to become. And as we turn onto a small cul-de-sac, the driver parks in front of the largest townhouse I've ever laid eyes on and my confidence deflates. Of course Nadia would be wealthy. Did I really think I could compete with these women in Ashe's life? What could I possibly offer her that she couldn't just get from them, and in excess if she so desired? Maybe I was just a foolish girl with a crush.

“Come on, Dani! We're living like rich people now!”

Jesus Christ, I can't take her anywhere.

I reluctantly follow Rose and Marco as they climb out of the sedan, my eyes scrutinizing Catalina's appearance as she gracefully steps out of the second limo parked in front of ours. I don't like how she's smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress, and does she really not own anything other than stiletto heels? Like, would normal attire kill her or something?

“What're you staring at?”

I nearly jump out of my skin as I turn to see Ashe standing behind me, a black duffel bag slung casually over one shoulder. Dammit, I forgot how fast she could move if she wanted to!

“N-nothing!” But I can't stop my eyes from roaming over the wrinkles in her own clothes, or keep my stomach from churning at the sight of her disheveled hair. “I was just—”

“Looks like your limo came with a private show, huh, Red?” Rose quips as she walks by and I inwardly groan. I never should've agreed to let her tag along on this trip. She was having way too much fun.

Ashe quirks a brow, her eyes hidden behind tinted aviators, and I could just about punch the blonde.

“I'll get the bags,” Marco offers, although I don't miss the annoyance in his tone as he glares at Rose's retreating form.

“Thanks, Paul Bunyan!” she calls out and the bear growls in response.

I would facepalm if I could. “This was a bad idea.”

“I warned you,” Ashe murmurs, nudging me with her elbow. “But too late to change your mind now. Come on, let's head inside. Nadia should have lunch ready soon.”

Oh joy. And I bet she's a fantastic cook, too.

As we cross the sidewalk to join the devil and my meddlesome friend, the front door opens and a lithe woman wearing a turquoise sari with gold trim steps out onto the covered porch.

“Hello Nadia, dear,” Catalina purrs and I crane my neck to get a good look at my other competition.

She was perhaps in her early-to-mid forties, with smooth skin as golden as a wheat field under a setting sun, and her stylish glasses did little to conceal her piercing brown eyes. Her hair, cropped pixie short with bold side-swept bangs, reminded me of chocolate fondue and the gray highlights blended surprisingly well.

My heart sinks a little in my chest. Of course she'd be beautiful.

Her eyes flick over our faces, lingering a little too long on mine before finally resting on the redhead at my side and her lips curl into a seductively sweet grin. I want to vomit.

“Svaagat hai, chhotee juganoo!”

Ashe steps forward and hugs the woman in a warmer embrace than I've ever seen her give Catalina. Maybe she was into older-looking women?

“Namaste, aantee.”

Auntie? As Nadia turns to greet Catalina, I lean into Ashe and whisper, “She's your aunt?”

Ashe smirks and I feel a tinge of red color my cheeks. “Who did you think she was?”

Too embarrassed at my own assumptions, which seem ridiculous now in hindsight, I decide not to humor her with a reply to that. Ashe was allowed to have a family; in fact, it was kind of presumptuous of me to think otherwise. Why had I never even considered that before?

“So what's a juganoo?”

“Chhotee juganoo is Nadia's nickname for me, ever since I was a child. It means 'little firefly' in Hindi.”

That was actually really adorable and way cuter than calling Ashe a blue-ringed octopus. As I mentally kick myself for not thinking of drawing that comparison when I first met the redhead, I study her aunt a little closer. She looked remarkably human, although I had trouble discerning any genetic similarities between the two. Ashe had told me once that her human half came from her mother's side, and I started to wonder what she might have been like and whether or not she was still alive when Nadia turns her gaze once more to me.

A chill runs up my spine as our eyes meet and I see a spark of white flicker like a crackle of lightning from behind her glasses. It was brief and if I blinked I might have missed it, but what I saw was unmistakable.

Ashe's aunt is a demon.

-------------

A/N: Phew, so Nadia is actually Ashe's aunt! Don't worry your pretty little head, Dani, at least not yet. But I do have to admit, jealous Dani was so much fun to write!

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