CHAPTER SIXTEEN: ZODIAC
992 Words
Caleb POV
“It’s been a long time since you’ve come in here and graced us with your presence, dickhead,” the hooded stranger claims as he sits next to me on the stool.
I slide his favorite whiskey across the bar, and he lowers his hood. Zodiac—the only name I know him by—wears a red mask covering his face, and no one has ever seen it off, at least not that I’ve heard of.
I know he is some kind of demon, but f**k knows what kind. Only that he is powerful. I can sense it, just like everyone in this bar can.
Demons like Zodiac aren’t around much anymore, thanks to the Alpha of Stormfire and his distrust of them.
All I know about Zodiac is that he has black hair, pointy demon ears, soulless blue eyes, and that he can be trusted.
“Demon bars were never interesting to me. Too many demons, too many desperate humans or wolves looking for long-lost magic,” I respond, wrapping my hand around my tumbler. “I prefer nightclubs. They’re about s*x and death. Nothing desperate to be found when you can get what you want there.”
“You haven’t changed much, it seems, Caleb,” he replies with a click of his tongue. “Still blaming Daddy for all your s**t?”
“I didn’t come here for a therapist,” I growled back.
He takes a long drink before letting out a hum of appreciation.
He laughs when he sees my glare, and I down my drink, already needing about twenty more of these to deal with the Zodiac.
“What do you want, Caleb?”
“Maybe I just called you here for a drink,” I reply with a smirk.
“You call me when you’re in trouble because of who your father is, and we both know it. We aren’t friends. Demons like us don’t make friends or long-lasting connections. It’s pointless when they all die.”
“You’ve told me this many times.”
“And yet you still have wolf and demon friends,” he replies, obvious distaste in his tone. “Which I’m presuming is something you want help with? What do you want?”
I stare down at my remaining whiskey, swirling it around the bottom of the tumbler, realizing I probably shouldn’t have chosen this one.
The amber, almost-red demon-blood whiskey reminds me of a certain person’s hair.
I’ve never once in my entire life f****d up this bad, and all Lila Thompson had to do was turn up at my front door to make it happen.
I should have slammed that door in her face and walked away.
But I didn’t.
And now look at me.
I’m no hero, and acting like one is going to get us both killed.
She already has a target on her back, and now she’ll take me down with her.
I don’t know what she expected when she came to me for help. Truth be told, her brother and I have been even for a long time on that life debt.
But for some stupid, f****d-up reason, I’m still here—and I’m still helping her.
I’m risking my life, my freedom, and my last chance at the Demon Trials for her.
“I need you to pass a message on to Leo Valerio for me,” I finally told him.
Lila is Leo’s problem, not mine, and the quicker he comes to get his sister, the better.
“Why don’t you tell your friend?” he asks, crossing his enormous arms.
“Because I can’t go anywhere near him, and you can without being seen. I don’t want him to know who sent the message or why, and no one else can know. You’re the best at sneaking around,” I say.
“I’m not a spy for you,” he replies. “Your father will not like this.”
“I don’t give one single flying f**k what my father thinks,” I growl, banging my fist on the counter.
Pure fury breathes life inside me. My marks glow, and my inner demon bangs against the mental barriers I keep him behind.
The bar goes silent for a second, and I see in the corner of my eye that the fifty or so demons, humans, and wolves are staring at us.
Fear becomes almost physical as it swamps the room.
I wait until they return to their chatter before speaking again.
“I’m asking for a favor from you, and I will pay as usual.”
“You’ll owe me for this,” he answers. “And you’ll owe me a great deal if you don’t want me to tell your father about this.”
“We have a deal, then.”
The greedy asshole smiles.
We both know my father would kill him for making deals with me, but this isn’t the first time—and it won’t be the last.
Everyone can be bought if you know what makes them tick.
Zodiac is easy to buy with a deal for the one thing he always wants more of—my father’s respect. And he can get that by telling him I’m behaving and not being a total f**k-up while it’s his job to watch me. Guide me.
“What do you need me to tell him?”
“This,” I say, sliding a piece of paper across the table.
Zodiac opens the note and instantly turns it into flames, the embers falling around his hands onto the countertop.
“The llama is wicked?”
“It’s a code word. Something he’ll know,” I responded.
We came up with dozens of code words when we worked together as partners in the DHT last year.
“All right. Fine,” he says with a sigh before clicking his fingers for the demon bartender to come over.
- Writer
