Page 1 of Endless Terrors
Prologue
My breath sent plumes of air into the morning. Car doors slammed behind me, the sound stark, like someone clapping their hands in an empty room. We were all here, I noted distantly.
Well, everyone except for one.
As we made our way into the church, I tugged at the bottom of my gray dress. It was too short, but it was also the only one I owned that didn’t seem like it should be worn by a faerie queen. I’d wanted to look nice.
After the service came to an end, I watched the casket get carried out.
My fault, I kept thinking. My fault.
CHAPTER ONE
The door to Sugarland slammed behind me.
One of the icicles dangling from the roof broke from the force, and it shattered against the black concrete below. The sound must’ve disguised the door hinges whining again, because I wasn’t prepared when a voice said from behind, “Hold it.”
I spun and rose my arm in an instinctive movement, readying to block a weapon or a blow. My other hand was already reaching for the holy knife in my pocket. When I comprehended that it was only Leroy standing in the doorway, his earrings glinting from the yellow light above the door, I faltered. My gaze dropped to the wad of cash in his hand. Oh.
Recovering, I shoved my hands into my coat pockets and looked up at Leroy’s dark, square face. He wore a thoughtful frown now. He’d seen something in my reaction. Something that revealed I was more than I was pretending to be.
“Table six?” I said casually, resisting the urge to wrinkle my nose with distaste. The man who sat there came every Tuesday and Thursday night, and he reminded me of Ian O’Connell with his intense eyes and arrogant familiarity. But his money was as green as everyone else’s, and since no one in my family could use their credit cards right now, we needed it. Desperately. I was sending half of what I earned to Emma and Damon, who used the extra funds for Matthew.
“Table six,” Leroy confirmed.
“Thanks.” I took the cash with my fingertips, careful as ever not to make physical contact, especially now that my gloves were in my backpack. I wore them during every shift as part of the look I’d created, and they had become my signature of sorts with the clientele and the other dancers. Laurie would be proud if he knew.
The thought caused a small pang in my chest.
With effort, I refocused on the human standing in front of me. Leroy’s expression was impassive, but I suspected he hadn’t missed my brief flare of emotion, either. He was perceptive, for a man. “Good night, Angel” was all he said.
I gave the bouncer a faint, fleeting smile—in spite of his tendency to see too much, Leroy was one of the few people in this place that I actually liked. His focus never wandered below my chin, and every time I slipped into the alley for a break, I always returned to find him on the other side of the door. “See you tomorrow,” I said as I turned away.
I had no way of knowing if this was true. Eventually, it wouldn’t be, because Finn, Gil, and I never stayed in one place longer than a few weeks. But it was part of the ruse. The ruse that my friends and I had created. Angel Jones, stripper by night, demon hunter by day.
Although, the demon hunter part wasn’t going nearly as well. At least once a week, Lyari used her remaining connections at the Unseelie Court to obtain books, journals, and scrolls on the Dark Prince, and we pored over them in whatever dim motel room we were staying at. So far, none of us had found anything to help me kill an immortal from another dimension.
And we couldn’t go home until Lucifer was dead.
Swallowing a discouraged sigh, I crossed the parking lot and began the long walk to my car. It was parked on a back road, away from prying eyes and men who hoped to catch me outside the club. It was an ancient Taurus I’d spotted in someone’s yard a few weeks back, a faded FOR SALE sign on the windshield. We had needed a different vehicle, since mine was easy to recognize and it displayed Colorado plates. I only missed it when we were on a long drive and Finn wore his wolf form, taking up the entire backseat and filling the cab with his distinctly canine scent.
Not that I smelled much better. My skin reeked of beer, sweat, and men, made worse when I shoved my nose into the collar of my coat, desperately seeking warmth. Nightmare or not, it was the middle of the night, and temperatures were so low that I could see every breath. I reluctantly left the glow of the streetlights behind and headed into the trees, looking back to make sure no one had followed, just as Lyari had taught me.
Bringing Finn or Gil along on my shifts had started to draw too much attention, even when they’d waited outside, so now I sent frequent texts and never went anywhere without looking over my shoulder. It was a fantastic way to live. I suppressed yet another sigh and moved deeper into the darkness. Deeper into the cold.
The war between winter and spring was ferocious, especially in northern Wyoming, where we’d been for the past three weeks. The brown grass was still struggling to become more. Every morning, a curtain of frost hovered over the world, and birds did their best to coax the sun out with their high voices. But there was no sign of those birds now, and the moon was a faint crescent overhead. I gazed up at it, wondering if the people I loved were somewhere looking at the night sky, too.
Then a sound disturbed the stillness.
I stopped, hardly daring to breathe. I scanned the darkness and listened for any other noises. Nothing moved. A hush clung to the air. It was no different than the other nights I’d made this walk, but unease crept under my skin. I turned and kept walking, this time at a quicker pace. I pushed some branches out of the way, and that was when I heard it again. The sound. I imagined a shoe landing on a stick, snapping it in half. I spun around, but only dark, faceless trees stared back.
Lyari’s name rose to my tongue, but I didn’t want to summon her unless it was an emergency. Unbidden, my mind went to the last conversation we’d had.
That night, we were somewhere in Utah. The harsh lights of a gas station shone down on the rows of pumps and the stained concrete. I stood alone, hands shoved in my coat pockets, staring at the climbing numbers in front of me. A tinny recording played overhead about a two-for-one special on doughnuts. Gil sat in the car, picking at the edges of his nails, and Finn was off in the darkness somewhere.
I fought the urge to fidget. We still had three hours of driving ahead, and I wanted to get it over with. Being crammed in a small space with Gil and Finn was like putting two chemicals in a vial and hoping it didn’t explode. Most of the mythology about supernatural creatures was bullshit, but the humans had gotten one thing right—as a general rule, vampires and werewolves did not get along. My companions were no exception.
Suddenly, Gil’s head jerked up. His eyes were narrow. I followed his gaze, my pulse already leaping as I shifted into survival mode. I’d half-positioned myself into a fighting stance when I saw Lyari. The tension seeped out of me in a rush, and I almost slumped from the weight of my relief. Lyari scanned the gas station, her mouth pressed into a thin line of distaste. It was still strange to see her without the armor of a Guardian. Tonight she wore jeans and a black turtleneck, her hair scraped back in a low ponytail. There was no visible makeup on her face and I didn’t see any jewelry, either. I wasn’t sure she even owned any.
