Empyrean Born (Origins Book 1) Read online

  Gabe bangs on the door to the nightclub, The Cougar Den, and we wait. The establishment isn’t open to the public yet, but their ad on social media said they’d be holding open auditions for “entertainment.” From the looks of the neon signs out front, I can easily surmise the kind of entertainment they’re looking for.

  Gabe pounds on the door again after seeing the impatient look I cast in his direction. I’m sure he doesn’t want my powers to begin their slow rise to the surface. Limited in this world as they may be, mine are sometimes… difficult to contain.

  When we’re with the humans, our powers are suppressed, for lack of a better word. For instance, Gabe isn’t able to suddenly engulf this building in a raging inferno, but he could warm up a cold mug of coffee for me. Something I’m totally tempted to have him do at the moment. I suppose he’s not as limited as most. After all, he can raise the temperature of the room, which totally freaks people out. I’m not going to lie, it’s pretty amusing.

  Yet his ability to manipulate water, the lesser of his elements, is all but non-existent here. I can’t see where that would necessarily come in handy at the moment anyway. It’s not like we need to flood the place and have everyone scurry out of the building like drowning rats.

  Judging by the neighborhood, I can only imagine that in due time there will be rats. A pristine ghetto a new building does not make.

  “Think Luke’s actually in there?” I ask.

  “Doubt it.”

  “Well, if not, someone in here better talk,” I grumble.

  “Don’t worry, babe. They always tell you,” he answers, smiling in a way that makes me feel all warm and tingly. Even if there’s no need, he always manages to boost my self-confidence. And damn if that doesn’t reignite the war raging inside where he’s concerned.

  “You looking for a lap dance, baby?” a feminine voice interrupts.

  The heavily made up and scantily dressed woman saunters up to Gabe, sliding a hand up his muscular, tanned arm. She’s practically drooling at the thought of getting him alone, but I can’t say I blame her. Gabe is over six feet of beautifully sculpted muscles not very well contained underneath a tight white t-shirt and ass hugging blue jeans. His nearly jet black hair is cropped fairly short, making him look the part of a sexy marine. Though with Gabe’s physique, I’d say he’s more the Black Ops sort. With well-defined cheekbones and a prominent jawline ever shrouded in five o’clock shadow, his mouth tips into a flawless grin that leaves nearly every woman swooning and incapable of speech. What creams women’s panties more than any of that, though, are his cobalt blue eyes outlined by impossibly dark lashes.

  The eye color is a trait of our kind, each of us having a unique shade of blue that we see the world through. Mine are a pale teal, the sort of color many women try - and fail - to replicate with false lenses. And it’s not without effort that I don’t narrow them at her. Gabe isn’t my mate, but he is mine.

  “Sorry, doll,” Gabe soothes with a shrug. “I’m taken.” I roll my eyes when he winks. Is he trying to give the poor girl a heart attack?

  When she recovers her breath, she tsks her tongue as her vibrant red lip curls, glaring at me as she takes in every inch of my five foot, eight inch frame. From the combat boots to the tight black jeans, up to the low cut army green top with enough cleavage to prove I’m not ashamed, nor am I an attention-seeking slut. In the chill of this morning’s air, I’ve opted to cover up with a short black leather jacket.

  It doesn’t escape my notice that her gaze lingers on the utilitarian belt circling my waist. My weapons are pretty well hidden from plain sight, but this girl isn’t as dumb as her appearance would suggest.

  I cock a perfectly arched brow at her as my hand comes to rest on my hip, lifting the hem of the jacket to reveal the decorative hilt of one of the Dissolution blades at my waist. As soon as her eyes lock onto mine, she slowly backs away, leaving us. Smart girl. She’s probably seen her share of violence, especially in this part of town, and knows better than to fuck with anyone carrying knives or otherwise.

  “Babe.” He chuckles before decidedly announcing, “I think we’ve been patient long enough. Don’t you?”

  I inhale through my nose and release an exasperated sigh. The almost imperceptible nod is all the permission he needs. Raising his boot just to the left of the handle, he kicks in the door. We cross the threshold and take a moment to allow our eyes to readjust to the sudden darkness of this cave. Screams fill our ears from the girls who are sliding up and down the poles on various platforms, performing their erotic routines. My eyes catch the stacks of opening night flyers on a nearby table announcing two-for-one shots, no cover charge for ladies, and all-you-can-eat chicken wings.

  The sadness I feel that I won’t be able to attend is simply devastating.

  I lift my gaze and spy another table. One filled with stacks of cash and several packages, the contents of which are concealed within tightly wrapped brown paper.

  For fuck’s sake. Really? Counting your drug money with the drugs out in the open? How fucking stupid are these guys?

  My next thoughts are of Luke. I’m not ignorant. I’ve had my suspicions for quite some time that Luke was into some shady shit, but for a single heartbeat, I find myself disappointed.

  Luke is somewhat slippery in the human world. Obviously, like me, he chose to forego his title and opt for a different life, but instead of serving and protecting the greater good, he’s become a self-serving asshole. Okay, that might be unfair. I suppose you could argue he’s just taking advantage of human capitalism, but we have a history, and I know him. Self-serving is pretty damn accurate. I just never thought of him stooping this low.

  Once the girls have taken their abrupt leave, the only people left are the manager, his muscle, and the idiots sitting at the table. Everyone remains perfectly still, waiting to see who flinches first.

  For a moment, I wonder why they aren’t in masks. I mean, there is a global pandemic happening right now, and masks are about the only thing that can help protect humans’ frailty. But then again, I suppose in a place like this, they’re probably more worried about contracting STDs or salmonella from the chicken wings rather than COVID-19.

  “Hey,” I say, casually. No need to start a gun fight. Even though we did bring knives, it wouldn’t be much of a fight, proving the old adage isn’t always accurate. “We’re looking for Luke.”

  “Hey yourself. Why don’t you forget about Luke and get up on that stage?” one of the slimier men in the back shouts.

  A few chuckles rumble through the room as I feel Gabe begin to take a step forward. I cast a quick look over my shoulder, and he stops.

  “That’s a really nice offer… for you. But I’m here to speak with Luke.”

  “Show us your tits!” another yells.

  I grace them with my full smile and try to unclench my teeth. “See this guy behind me? He doesn’t like when I’m spoken to in such a disrespectful way. So. I’m going to ask one more time. Where is Luke?”

  “Come here and suck my dick first!”

  “You know,” I begin, nodding and walking closer, “that’s not very polite. And I warned you.”

  Everyone moves at once. As they charge toward us, I roll my eyes. I haven’t had nearly enough coffee yet this morning. Gabe steps in front of me, blocking attacks with precise timing - toying with them, really. But I’m not about to let him have all the fun. As another, much larger man comes barreling at me from my right, I jump and kick, twisting in midair, just as my boot connects with his face. His head snaps awkwardly to the side, and his large body crumples to the floor where it remains motionless but breathing. I try not to make a habit of killing humans. Even if they are disgusting, drug dealing assholes. By the time I look back for more, I only see a blur of movement, and in a matter of seconds, the only man left standing - aside from Gabe - is the shifty-looking, balding manager.

  I aim my best exasperated look at Gabe to let him know I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myse
lf and he doesn’t have to do that all the damn time. He simply keeps his impervious mask of indifference in place, although I can see the slightest hint of amusement twitching his lip.

  Show off.

  Turning back to the manager, his face is as white as a sheet, his hands are trembling, and beads of sweat have begun forming on his brow. The music playing over the sound system cuts out - presumably thanks to the bartender who is now cowering behind the bar - allowing me to faintly hear the manager’s rapid heartbeat. The pounding increases the longer we stare him down. I can almost taste his fear; it’s as palpable in the air as the smell of the candied perfume the girls have bathed in. I wonder if he’s pissed his pants, and part of me feels badly for him. Not many humans get to witness the impressive and seemingly impossible speed of our kind. We’re usually more discreet, but we’re sort of under a time crunch.

  “What do you want?” he demands, trying his best to keep his arrogance in the forefront of his withering confidence.

  “Are you fucking serious? I’ve asked three times already,” I say, more to myself than anyone else. The tone of my voice takes his focus off Gabe and brings his attention to me. Suddenly whisked out of his stupor, his eyes trail over me, lingering in the places where men’s eyes always pause.

  I have no patience this morning. Call it lack of caffeine or just feminine irritability rearing its ugly head, but I am in no mood to be eye fucked by the likes of him.

  “Hey, douche. My eyes are up here,” I snap, pointing a shiny black fingernail at my face. Screw it, I think. In a fraction of a second, I’m now behind him with a blade digging into his neck. “Where’s Luke?” I purr into his ear.

  “I...I don’t know,” he says, barely above a whisper, his throat bobbing against the knife’s tip. I press it a little harder until I see a tiny bead of red. “O-okay! I heard him on the phone! He said he was going to a construction site. Something about contractors screwing him over. Then he had a meeting and... and that’s all I know. I swear!”

  I consider him for a moment before releasing him and stepping back around so we’re face to face. Sheathing my knife, I run my fingers through my long, ash blonde hair. I smooth it back and wrap a tie around the messy knot at the center of my head, revealing the tattoos that begin under each side of my jaw and disappear beneath my jacket. The scrolling letters are indecipherable to humans, etched in the ancient language of our kind and in a type of font no mortal could replicate.

  Taking note of my growing annoyance, he quickly spits out, “Why would you think he tells me anything? I’m just the assistant manager of this place! Hell, I don’t even have my own apartment! I share with two other guys!”

  Sparing a moment to contemplate just how pathetic this poor schmuck’s life is, my eyes flick to Gabe. He’s standing still as a statue, an expressionless wall of muscle except for the amusement crinkling the skin around his eyes. The bodies scattered at his feet remain unmoving, breathing but unconscious. His white t-shirt is still white, unfussed and unwrinkled. Forget about that being a workout. That wasn’t even a warm-up for him, whereas I think I pulled a hammy from my little stunt. But I’ll be damned if I tell him that.

  Gabe is really pretty incredible. It’s with a satisfying ghost of a smile that I look at him, grateful I don’t have to lift a manicured finger in these tedious encounters. I mean, I did. This time. But it was more to prove a point. To him or myself, I’m not sure. Usually, I’m content to let him handle these ugly confrontations. Honestly, why should I bother when he’s this good? So I happen to still get a little pitter-patter in my heart when I see him in action. That’s just a bonus.

  “All right,” I finally say, looking back at the manager. “Do you know where this supposed construction site is?”

  His eyes shift to Gabe and then to his men on the floor, his Adam’s apple wobbling up and down as he swallows hard. A single bead of sweat rolls down his temple.

  Eventually, he sighs. “Yeah. Here-” He hastily scribbles down an address on the back of one of the flyers from the table and reaches out his hand, the scrap of paper shaking violently in his fingertips. Gabe immediately appears next to me, concerned about what this pathetic human might do, and when I move to take the paper, he snatches it instead.

  It’s sweet how worried he gets about me, and I guess that’s sort of his job since his deeply rooted desire to protect is what led to him accepting the task of protecting me, but ever since that damn letter showed up all those months ago, he’s been a little too enthusiastic. We might need to have a talk. I’m not some damsel in distress and refuse to be treated as such.

  I take another long look at this guy, the way he’s shifting back and forth, the way he keeps looking at Gabe before his eyes return to my boobs. Using the gift of mind, I open the connection between us. Immediately, I’m able to conclude he isn’t thinking about much more than sex with me and that this address truly is the extent of his knowledge where Luke is concerned. For as convenient as it would be, the gift of mind doesn’t allow me to rummage through his filthy brain, searching for the information I’m seeking. Which is actually perfectly fine. I don’t care to spend anymore time in this dude’s head, and thanks to my question, any information he knows should be at the forefront of his mind, ready for me to find it. Just before I slam that connection closed, I get a glimpse of some really fucked up ideas of what he wants to do to my body.

  If I were into the humans’ religious stuff, I’d say this guy needs Jesus. And I need a shower.

  I stifle a gag and turn to leave the building as quickly as possible. Momentarily blinded by the sunlight, I pull out my reflective aviator sunglasses as I hear Gabe come up behind me. Seconds later, the fire alarm from inside the building begins blaring.

  “What’d you do?”

  Throwing his arm around my shoulders, he grins. “I may have sparked a small electrical fire, and it may have been directed toward the table with the money and drugs.”

  I chuckle. “Gotta keep the kids off drugs,” I say as we continue walking with the sounds of sirens wailing in the distance.

  I’m on a mission with a singular thought in my mind.

  Coffee.

  Turns out we’d missed Luke by mere minutes, but thanks to one of the flooring guys, we know he’s on his way back to his new office downtown.

  I refuse to blame the unfortunate timing on my need for a caffeine fix, as Gabe is currently doing. Perhaps we shouldn’t have stopped. After weeks of searching, this is the closest we’ve come to finally tracking him down. I don’t know why, but the thought of seeing him again has me all... mixed up inside. I guess I’m stalling.

  What no one knows is that long ago, Luke and I were involved. Why I have a hard time admitting what we once were to each other is almost laughable. I don’t look at him that way anymore, and I’m certain he doesn’t feel that way toward me. Why should it matter if we’re in a room together? It makes no sense to feel… whatever it is I’m feeling.

  Dammit, I wish I could spare some time to go home, my actual home, and leave the human world for a while. All of these unidentifiable emotions are starting to get to me. Maybe I could wash off the humanity or something. I wonder if anyone has thought to make a body wash for it: smells like apathy, feels like indifference.

  “Ever feel like the fucking wild goose enjoys the damn chase?” Gabe smirks, kicking me out of my thoughts as we get into his shiny black Audi.

  Sliding our seatbelts in place, Gabe turns the engine over and it purrs to life. There was a time when I enjoyed riding around in one of his fancy cars, but I can’t find it in me to care about the cushy leather seats, ample back support, or the smoothness of its ride. Not knowing who the jackass is that’s been causing everyone’s lives to be hell has me on edge. Add in the fact that he’s turned this into a personal fucking game, calling me out? It’s making me cranky. While we’re at it, toss in Luke. Damn. How do human women handle this emotional rollercoaster? It’s like I’m in a fun house where every place I look there’s ano
ther distorted version of myself staring back at me. It’s not so fun!

  While my bitchy side is front and center, I may as well mention the cars don’t belong to Gabe. They’re dealer cars on loan from his current boyfriend.

  I may or may not say that with a curled lip.

  I have to keep reminding myself, if Gabe is happy, I’m happy. Sort of. It’s not that I dislike Ian. He’s just an acquired taste.

  Honestly, it’s all I can do not to knee him in the nuts every time he tells me about the newest vehicle they have on the lot. He knows I don’t drive. It’s like he has nothing better to do than to try to exceed his previous month’s commission.

  I suppose a part of me is lonely; Ian takes up a little too much of Gabe’s time. It’s the stabby, jealous side of me. Plus, it’s been quite a while since I’ve slept with anyone. Sexual frustration is a very real thing in the Empyreal world too.

  “Hello? Babe? You still with me here or what?”

  I blink as I realize we’ve been in the car now for several minutes, with him talking about… something and me silently going through the catalog of men I might want to call later. Unfortunately, it’s a pretty short list, and I find none of them too appealing, as desperate as I may be.

  “I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

  “Man, I know you don’t like seeing Luke, but you’re acting stranger than usual. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” I quietly answer.

  “Babe,” he says, drawing the word out.

  Ignoring him, I slowly take my hair out of the knot and shake it down, remembering how Luke likes to run his fingers through it. My mind betrays me with memories of one of our last times together, and I shift in the seat as it begins to get awfully warm in here.