Vein of Love (Blackest Gold Book 1) (9 page)

“Show it to me.”

As Molly watched September eye it, she wondered if she could leave the state—just move really far away and change her name. But what about her family? He would attack them.
Slaughter
them.

“Shit, Molly.”

“What?”

“I knew this sounded familiar,” September whispered, squinting at her phone and the paper. She twisted the screen for Molly to see. “It’s a bar in Coney Island. Maybe the guy was trying to help you? Maybe this bar is the answer.”

Molly’s heart stilled. “Maybe. Maybe they can help.”

She wasn’t going to run, and she wasn’t done fighting. No, the battle against Tensley Knight had just begun.

MOLLY FROZE WHEN
she saw the dilapidated building in front of them. It was dark inside, and a few people were lined up, waiting to enter at ten o’clock at night. The place definitely wasn’t thriving like Manhattan’s bars, but for Coney Island it was all right. Molly had read about the bar their entire trip over, hoping the research might make her feel less nervous about the place.

“C’mon, Mol,” September hollered across the street, racing over to hook an arm through Molly’s. Loud, heavy music boomed from the structure, and she squinted.

“Shoot the Freak,” Molly muttered, reading the faded sign.

“Sounds pleasant, huh?” Molly shot her a glare. “Let’s just get inside.”

“Remember, if things go sour—”

“We leave, I know. You’ve been telling me this the last three hours.”

They walked to the door, but a guy the size of two Septembers blocked their way.

“IDs,” he demanded, hand outstretched.

The two of them exchanged looks, and September smiled. She took his hand, shook it, and let go. When he gazed down at the money in his palm, he immediately handed it back.

“Hey!” September tried to shove it back into his closed fist.

“Get lost,” he snapped.

Just as September huffed and turned, Molly thought over the note.

“Athena?” she whispered.

“I said to leave! Or I’ll call the cops!” the doorman yelled.

“Athena?” she repeated, louder.

The man’s pockmarked face relaxed. “Go on.” He moved aside and opened the door for them.

The bar was busy and hazy with smoke. Molly swore she tasted whiskey in the air, and she had to work to stifle a cough.

“Now what?” September asked, scanning the room.

“I don’t know.” Molly glanced around, located the bartender, and marched over with September in tow. “Excuse me,” she said to the bartender when she’d gotten his attention. “We’re looking for someone to help us…with a situation.”

“Looking for Cree?” he said, teeth flashing blue in the club’s bizarre lighting—not the best look for him.

“Uh, well, if he knows how to get rid of demons…” September tried to laugh it off and Molly spun, her eyes widening.

The bartender stopped wiping down the counter and leaned forward. “How did you get in here?”

Both girls grew rigid.

“Uh…someone referred me,” Molly said while wringing her hands.

The man simply stared back, working his mouth as if mulling over whether to toss them out or not. “You’ll find Cree sitting over there.”

“Well, he was friendly,” September murmured as they walked away. “I could feel the hospitality just
oozing
off him.”

Then she halted and the two of them stared at a brown-haired man reading over scattered papers. He didn’t look much older than the girls but had a strong, rigid posture of a man who had seen and done things most had not. “Hi, are you Cree?”

“Yeah.” His steady eyes flickered up and his brow furrowed. “Can I help you? He cracked a nut on the table—
crunch—
and popped it into his pinched mouth.

Molly went to open her mouth, but the sight of someone else stopped her.

Albert, still hidden by his wild beard, stood across the room, sipping a beer.

“Hey?” She turned to see the man had been trying to speak with her, his eyes filled with concern.

“You came.” At the sound of Albert’s voice, Molly turned to see he had stepped toward her, mouth agape. “I didn’t think you’d have the balls.”

“You know these girls, Al?” the man asked, his eyes staying trained on Molly.

Albert nodded his head at her. “She’s the one the Knight boy was trying to hide.”

They know his family?

“I’m sorry about Jackson,” Molly said.

Albert’s jaw relaxed and he lowered his head. “He was reckless. He was tired of following orders from the men who gave him his paycheck and he wanted out. I wish he had told me what he was planning; I would have talked him down, maybe told him to leave town and lay low for a bit.” His fists clenched and Molly swore she saw the glint of tears in his dark eyes before he bowed his head again.

Molly bit her lip, unsure how to act after the silence fell between them.

Cree sat back, folding his thick arms as his eyes slid slowly up Molly’s body. “Don’t worry Al, I’ll make sure those fucking bastards pay dearly.” He looked up again, brows thick over his sable-brown eyes. “And your reason for waltzing into my bar would be?”

“You—you deal with…” Molly’s eyes flickered to the cross hanging around his thick neck, half-hidden by his plain grey T-shirt. “…demons? With the Knights? You can stop them, right?”

He paused, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “What’s the problem exactly?”

Molly took a shaky breath and sat down. “I’m engaged to him.”

Cree’s brows lifted, the first display of emotion from him. “Engaged to who?”

She nodded numbly. “To Tensley Knight and I want out. I want to end the contract.”

All his attention was hers now, purely, solely hers. “Tensley Knight?”

“Yes.
My fiancé
.”

“The douche,” September chimed in.

Cree analyzed Molly’s hardened features. “Sit.” They did so, Cree watching Molly carefully. “I’ve heard a lot about his family; they practically run New York City. They’re the law. How long have you two…?”

“I was six when they showed up.” Molly was afraid to say too much; she wanted to give as little information as possible before she determined if she could trust them.

Cree watched her, tapping his finger slowly against the oak table. “And why did they do that?”

Molly froze, trying to figure out what to say, if anything at all. She glanced at Albert who tilted his head in question at her silence.

Cree’s sudden groan snapped her from her thoughts. “
Mierda
! I don’t have time for uncertainty, kid. You have three options: trust your
fiancé,
trust me, or leave and figure out your own plan. I’m not keeping you here, I’m not forcing you to tell me anything, but I need to know what I’m getting my guys and myself involved in before I can agree to anything. It’s your choice, your decision. Talk or walk.”

Molly scowled; it was as if he could read her thoughts. “Why should I trust you?”

“I may be blunt, harsh
—but I’m honest. It’s not gonna be pretty. You’re going to have to do things you won’t like, but it all comes down to: what will you do to keep those you love safe?” He jerked his chin at her. “You have a family, right? People you want to protect?”

“He’ll use them as weapons,” she said, a bite in her tone. “I know, he already has.”

He leaned forward and tapped his finger to his chest. “I’m not playing games. I’m telling you straight what’s going to happen, when it’s going to happen. I’ve been hunting demons since I was sixteen. I know what I’m doing. We’re on the same side here. We have the same end goal. We want him removed from your life.”

Molly glanced at September who shrugged.
No help there.

What choice did she have?
She didn’t know the first thing about demons or getting out of a contract with one; she couldn’t even control her own strength, and Tensley was ruining her life. She couldn’t do it on her own. She needed someone with more knowledge, more experience before she faced him. She was desperate, and she’d do anything to get rid of the contract and Tensley.

September tapped her shoulder. “Molly?

Molly’s chest contracted, and she let out a heavy breath. “My ancestors made a deal three hundred years ago with his family.”

Cree was silent, a tanned hand cupping his scruffy chin. His deep brown eyes narrowed. “Why?”

She paused again, took another deep breath, and said, “My family possesses…rare eyes.”

He tensed his other hand against the wooden table. “Rare eyes?”

Molly slowly reached for her sunglasses, hesitating before she removed them. She blinked, attempting to only give him glimpses of the rare glow.

He gawked openly, lips parted. “You’re a daemon.”

Albert cursed. “It explains why he was so desperate to hide her.
Shit.
”

She didn’t bother to tell them that her powers functioned poorly. If anything, she wanted them to believe she was capable of defending herself at any time.

Cree sat back, watching her intently. She wondered what was going through his head; he definitely seemed to be ruminating on something, planning, maybe. “There’s little knowledge about daemons. I do know that your strength relates directly to your eyes—eyes that immobilize demons until you look away. They’ve often been linked to being demigods. All those myths of Hercules, Achilles are thought to have been daemons. I know a lot about their history, though—most of them were either murdered at birth, as their communities believed them to be witches, or they took their own lives due to the strain of being ostracized. Death was their curse and blessing.”

Molly’s stomach bottomed out, and she shakily put her sunglasses back on. “Right now, my only concern is getting rid of him.”

He nodded once. “
I’ll train you to protect yourself and find a way to break the contract. There’s a warlock I know named Lance who’s gifted at contracts. He can help us.”

Molly stared unblinkingly at him; his harsh stubble, the dark bags under his tired eyes, the scars littering his skin. “So, is this, like, a family job? How did you get into the business?”

“No. My family has nothing to do with the Order of Orion,” he said, his shoulders tensing at the turn of conversation. “We hunt demons to protect others, to stop them from harming humans.”

Molly knitted her brows. “Then why do you do this? Hunt demons?”

“My sister was murdered by a demon about nine years ago,” he said matter-of-factly. “Ever since then, I’ve been making sure those savages pay.”

Her chest tightened at his cool voice.
Good going, genius
. “I’m so sorry.”

Cree tapped his finger impatiently, looking back at her. As if he was trying to read her. He stood up, both girls following while Albert stood back. “You live in Manhattan, right?”

“How did you know?” Molly asked, surprised.

His eyes lowered, taking her in from the tips of her cherry-red Kate Spades to the top of her blonde hair, one brow raised. “You dress like one of them. I’ll pick you up at the stop on Ninth Avenue, close to Greenwood Cemetery. Three-thirty sharp tomorrow. If you’re late, well, you’ll get your ass kicked by one of the others.” He smirked at her.

Crap!

Molly wrinkled her forehead. “I can’t. I told the museum I would help out later to make up for being late this week.”

Cree shook his head. “That’s your decision.”

Molly bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut.
Damn it.
“I’ll call in sick.”

“So there are more of you?” September probed.

Cree seemed to debate whether to answer. “Yep.”

“Well, thanks for all the info,” Molly quipped.

“Where should I meet you?” September asked, folding her arms.

He stared at her and laughed. “
You’re
not coming. It’s only her allowed—it’s an elite, private order and we don’t just let anyone near us. Just go home and rest. Here’s my number.” He wrote fast on a sheet of paper and tore it off, handing it to her.

Molly furrowed her brow at the messy numbers. “What do I do until then?”

Cree mulled over the question. “Find out what he lacks and what he wants, and make him think he can trust you.”

Molly clinched her arms around her waist; it was drafty in the bar, and in her mind.

“Alrighty then,” September said, tugging Molly away from Cree and his paper-strewn table.

She jogged through the lamplight outside to follow after September.

“So do you have any idea what Tensley lacks?” September asked as they strolled through the empty streets, looking for their bus stop. “Besides basic human decency, anyway.”