33. Cartography

She compelled the hotel staff to rent her a room. They could return to the penthouse, but she wanted to stay here. Away from the racket and distractions of the city.

She’d begun the slow descent into her power before they left the safety of the Penthouse. The woman at the front desk had refused them at first, so Liora had to force her.

Her pale blue eyes narrowed at Ashton’s scars. He stood tall, sure of himself, behind her.

With his hand on Liora’s hip, his glacial aura told the brunette he wasn’t wholly of this world. Yet he called her the feral one. No matter.

It would take only a small amount of power to convince her to give them a room. Liora reached out and touched her hand, a warmth bleeding from hers into the young woman’s.

A pulse of seductive power flowed from her palm. The receptionist’s nude lips parted, cheeks flushed, and her wispy lashes tried to flutter. Liora spoke in a silken tone that made Ash press closer behind her.

“I’m sure we can come to an arrangement that suits us both, Stephanie.”

Stephanie’s name tag glinted in the dazzling light overhead. Ash chuckled under his breath as the woman’s cheeks pinkened.

She nodded, chest heaving as her eyes glazed over. Liora smiled and slid a credit card across the marble desk. One of the few modern things she abided. Modern plumbing took the top spot on that list.

A hot bath was necessary to keep her grip on her sanity. Stephanie handed her two keycards. She handed one to Ash without looking and followed him to the elevator.

“That was subtle,” he said under his breath, humor clear in his tone.

“It worked, didn’t it? It’s you they keep refusing.”

Ash was quiet as the doors shut and they chose their floor. “Maybe. But still.” He paused as he glanced at her reflection. She ignored it. “How long are we here for?”

He sounded… different. Uncomfortable, almost. Strange.

“As long as it takes. I’m not going back until they’re defeated,” she said. Voice flat.

He clicked his tongue. Frost climbing up her hipbone. “Fine. I’ll pay for food.”

Her heartbeat started racing. She arched a brow, shadows coiled tight in her veins. They wouldn’t stay hidden for long. Too used to total freedom now.

She’d hauled them in to avoid the notice of any supernatural that might be present. Only a slight haze surrounded her here.

“How do you earn money?” She had wondered for a while. A while ago, he’d come back from the church with a whole new cache of stuff.

She’d assumed he’d stolen it. Her mouth watered, venom pooling as fractured erotic images of that night scrolled through her mind.

“Earned a chunk before I was turned. Most I’ve stolen from people like Claire’s parents.” He said, clearing his throat and squaring his shoulders.

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “I should’ve known.” She paused, head tilting as another question fell out of her mouth without her permission. “What did you do before this?”

The elevator door pinged, and they waited for the doors to open. She’d allowed a ribbon of shadow to veil the camera in the lift.

Stopping them from recording anything they said. Once they were in the crimson carpeted hallway. They stayed silent until they reached their door.

She let them inside. Turning on the light into the small suite. He had received an education and hadn’t appeared to waste it despite his trickster tendencies. She’d been with some dunderheads in her time…

The conversations had been mind-numbingly dull or nonexistent. Ash tossed questions and barbs at her like they were going out of fashion.

She never knew what would come out of his mouth next. Never knew what landmines he’d expose.

He was the only one who had kept up with the snare of her mind and the way it plotted around him. Plotted to keep him out.

She almost heard the gears turning in his head as he said, “Something to do with that ‘’machine’ you hate. It’s a lucrative business for humans.”

“What happened to pillaging?”

Ash laughed, his hand sliding around her waist as they walked into their temporary bedroom. Her skin prickled with his cold as she let her shadows loose and they dropped their belongings at the foot of the massive bed.

She’d brought more weapons than clothing.

“They modernized it. Keep up with the times, Red.”

She chose not to dignify him with a retort, taking off her coat as he threw himself down on the mattress. She slung it over the chair in the corner and avoided looking in the large mirror nailed to the wall by the closet.

Ash watched her every movement as though he were planning a siege. Of what, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. She went through her usual routine when in a new area, hands clasping together as she spoke to her shadows.

“I want no surprises. If there’s any other creature here besides us—find them. Don’t come back until you’re sure it’s clear.”

A few strands of darkness nodded their formless heads and broke away from the black mass slithering up the walls and through the air vents. A few stragglers curled close as she knelt before her bags and grabbed the heaviest one.

She unzipped the soft leather and dumped a small arsenal of knives and vials of poison. Magic sang through her veins as her invisible hands drew it out from the well within her. Ash chuckled as she grabbed her Silverthorn blade.

The one carved with runes, and with crystals embedded in the handle. The same one she’d used to slice yew ash out of the vampire lazing on the bed.

“It’s too late for that. Don’t even think about it,” he said, winking at her even as she rolled her eyes.

“Stay on my good side and you won’t have to worry about it.”

He folded his hands behind his head, legs crossed at the ankle. She wrinkled her nose because his boots were on the bedspread. She slapped them. He took the hint and kicked them off.

“Nah. Your bad side’s the best one.”

She scoffed and hurried to hide the weapons around the room. Bergamot and pomegranate had already soaked the space. If there were any monsters here, they’d sniff her and Ash out fast.

She had sensed none, but it never hurt to prepare for the worst. She almost wanted to kick something off.

Cause mayhem just to have something to do. Her demon snoozed low in her stomach, plump and smug. Quiet, thank the dead Gods.

“Is this how you always decorate?” Ash asked, eyes closed when she looked at him. “You’re supposed to make it pretty. Not create a deathtrap.”

“What use is pretty if we’re ambushed?”

He spoke before the last syllable had sounded. “You have a built in alarm system. We’ll be fine.”

She growled, but it sounded more like a laugh. Her face warmed with a strange heat as she finished stuffing daggers under the mattress.

“Constant vigilance is a skill you never stop needing. Don’t get complacent, leech.”

He hummed, smirking as she studied him. He didn’t appear relaxed despite his supine pose. His jaw had hardened. Frost glimmered in his hair where his hands touched it. She frowned.

Shoulders tensing and pulse kicking. “What’s wrong? Why do you look… worried?”

He cracked open an eye, silver shining but frozen. “I—I don’t know. It just feels weird here. Like we shouldn’t be here.”

“When has that ever stopped you?” She said, tone dry as bone ash. Perhaps she’d give him something to worry about.

“True.” It was like someone flipped a switch on his mood. His grin was shameless as he said, “What’s the plan? Do you want to brood for a few hours? Or have another bath?”

Her brow arched as she perched on her side of the bed. Peculiar. Her side. His side.

It was almost normal. It set her teeth on edge. She considered poking for a more satisfying answer, but sidestepped that trap and saved the fighting for a better moment.

“We’ll wait for dawn. Then we’ll hunt the old fashioned way. Your way bores me.”

His laugh shook the bed. He rolled onto his side, pinning her with a stare that still saw too much and made her heartbeat speed up. She fidgeted with the cuff of her cream sweater.

She sat rigid with her back against the wrought-iron headboard. Unsure what to do with herself if they weren’t arguing and spilling blood. His icy hand landed on her thigh, fingers pressing into the black fabric of her trousers.

Her demon opened a drowsy eye as her heat burned through his arctic touch. She wrapped her fist around the side of his neck, tentatively at first, claws nicking his skin as he leaned into it.

“We have about four hours until sunrise…” he paused as he dragged her down beside him. A fine glitter of snow sparkled over her clothes as his hands grabbed her and pulled her closer. “Want to see how many noise complaints we can rack up before then?”

His mouth was on hers before she could reply.

Ash smothered a laugh as Liora scowled and kicked a gaudy flower arrangement sitting outside a gated home. White petals flew like confetti to sprinkle the ground.

They’d come to a standstill on a windswept street in an affluent cul-de-sac. They had searched for three days.

For three days, they’d found sweet fuck-all, and they hadn’t even covered a third of it. Her shadows had returned on day two to inform them they were the only monsters stalking the streets.

The tension in him, the chill that nipped at his nape, had seeped away. Or maybe it had just gone dormant, like a serpent constricting his innards until it was time to swallow him whole.

Good. No monsters meant there were likely no hunters. He refocused on his succubus as she wore a track in the concrete. Heels cracking off the sidewalk like stiletto-shaped bullets.

She muttered in Russian, claws flexing, and eyes blacker than the sea he could hear no matter where they were. The air drenched in salt and iodine clung to his senses.

He listened as her heartbeat steadied. Her shadows swirled in the wind, her hair moving with it. Night had fallen an hour ago. Their hopes along with it.

“It’ll take forever to search this place on foot together.”

She whirled to face him, snarling at his smirk. Her shoulders slumped, head shaking as she exhaled heavily. His attention turned to the sky.

Stars blinked overhead—maybe he should make a wish. Liora spoke before he could form one.

“This is a graveyard with better landscaping.” Her darkness flickered, restless against the manicured hedges. “They’re gone. We’re wasting time.”

He didn’t look at her, his gaze scanning the dark windows of a silent mansion at the end of the street. Glass composed the majority.

It wasn’t particularly eye-catching, but its shadow seemed to loom over the other homes. “Patience was never your virtue, Red.”

“I have plenty of virtues. Patience isn’t one worth having. Futility isn’t either.” She stopped pacing, gazing down at her feet. “We’re looking for a ghost.”

Her pulse slowed more, her scent thick with grave dirt. She’d seemed distracted a lot. Her power heated their bond more often. He hadn’t asked why. Not yet, anyway.

“Ghosts leave traces. Cold spots. A bad feeling in your gut.” He finally glanced at her, a taunting smile playing on his lips. “You’re the one who taught me that.”

Heat swelled as her shadows surged and hissed at him. He captured one, watching as it wound around his wrist and sank beneath his skin. Liora glared at it, mouth pursing as she yanked it back.

“We need to change tactics. This isn’t working,” he said as she remained silent.

She stiffened. “And your suggestion would be what?”

He shook his head. Eyes blazing and full of amusement. “We split up. Cover twice the ground. Get out of here by Saturday night” Her stare felt more like an X-ray as he refused to back down. The hunters had retreated. To some new place neither knew the coordinates of. He’d destroyed their last sanctuary.

But their faceless benefactor would have provided another. While he and Liora had fought their own battles, his fan club had learned. They’d been clever this time.

They had done everything secretly. No trail. No digital footprint. It made his stomach knot, and the old urge to run itched at him. Liora sighed.

Her eyes narrowed, pupils slitting as amber glowed at the edges of her irises. Her scent shifted to scorched linen. He’d smelled it this strongly only once before.

The church when he used her human name. Every other time she smothered it with fury or spite. It meant she was worried.

More than she’d risk admitting aloud. He steeled his spine and let nothing but grim determination show on his face as she pointed a freshly sharpened claw at him.

“Fine. You’re so clever, leech? You think you’re capable? Prove it.”

Ash jolted. He blinked, mind backtracking to find the wrong turn he’d somehow stumbled onto.

He’d expected a yes or no answer. Stupid. “Prove what? That I can stare at an empty house?”

Liora smiled slowly, a sight that would usually make him want to pin her against the wall to her left and bite it off her. Now? He swallowed hard and braced himself.

“No.” The word was a challenge. “Prove you can track something. That you don’t need the bond. Or my scent.” She backed away. “We’ll split up. You have one hour. Find me.”

A savage, understanding grin spread across his face as her shadows cloaked her and swallowed her scent.

The absence, the wrongness of it was a punch in his ribs. This was her real test. Partly of his tracking skills and of his attention. His presence.

Mostly of his right to be her hunter. She already knew he could be her prey. He’d excelled in that regard. And he’d do the same for this.

Ash inclined his head. “What do I get when I win?”

Liora snorted, still moving away from him. He ignored the impulse to tug on the bond, to draw her back.

“You get the profound privilege of continuing to breathe in my presence.”

Ash all but cackled as he replied, “Deal.”

Liora phased away. He inhaled deeply, nodding to himself. He counted down from thirty in his head before he followed the map he’d created in his mind.

She thought he hadn’t been paying attention this whole time? Good.

Game on, demon.

An hour later, Liora stood on a desolate private beach at the edge of the estates. Saline air stuck to her hair and skin as she gazed out to sea. Watching the black waves.

Multiple helicopters had flown over the small area. She assumed from the islands dotted amongst the wind-whipped water. Rich mortals and their silly toys. Her back ached with the weight of her hidden wings.

Her shadows still veiled her scent, and the bond had stayed quiet. No thrum of cold had indicated he had cheated. But he hadn’t found her.

She hadn’t caught sight of him as she wove through the morass of wealth and audaciousness that marred this land. She’d laid false trails into empty homes.

And she’d phased away from dead ends to confuse him more. The heat under her skin flared brighter as the chilly sea-breeze sliced through her loose hair. Her haughty expression solidified as she sighed.

If the hunters had fled the Hamptons, where in the seven hells could they have gone? Why had Raymond told her to come here?

It wasn’t for the lifestyle or spa treatments. Oily prick. She shouldn’t have bothered. She mentally shook the thoughts away. Her eyes locked on a luminous star flashing over the water.

The new moon hung like a threat as the waves crashed into each other. Power thrummed in her veins, seeking to get out.

She let some of it flow into her shadows, corking it once the pressure eased. Pointless.

This was pointless. Her magic had found nothing worthwhile. Every time she sent her onyx snakes out, they returned like shamed children. If she could just find out who provided them the funds for their operation— A voice cut through the salt-tinged air from directly behind her.

“You picked a cliché. Brooding by the ocean? I expected more originality.”

Liora spun, her shadows rising in a defensive sweep before settling. She blinked. Pulse ratcheting and claws curving into her palms as she appraised him.

He stood there, not a hair out of place, hands in his pockets. As if he’d been out on a late stroll and just happened upon her. The urge to scream roared through her.

“How?”

Ash chuckled low, darker than a midnight sun, sand crunching under his boots. Her inky strands slithered toward him, hooking around his wrists and ankles.

They had stopped listening to her commands to leave him alone.

“Did you think I spent the last few days just following you?” He took a step closer, his voice dropping, losing its taunting edge. “I memorized the map. Every cracked cobblestone on Jobs Lane. The scent of the specific roses on that one estate you said were ‘gaudy.’ The sound the wind makes through the weathervane on the post office.”

He was right in front of her now. “I didn’t follow your scent. I followed our path.”

The truth of it was a physical push that made her rock back on her heels. She’d thought… she’d thought he hadn’t done anything more than tease and aggravate her these last days.

His taunts and smirks haunted every dead end and cold trail. That damn joker’s mask—she huffed and sheathed her claws. He’d been building a world around them.

Liora stared through the beat of stunned silence. Voice sharp as she broke it. “Smug bastard.”

His grin was all familiar triumph and wickedness, but his eyes were soft. “Thorough. I believe was the word I used.” He reached out, tracing the line of her jaw, a touch so unlike their usual collisions, she wasn’t sure how to take it. “So? Do I get to keep breathing?”

She captured his wrist, feverish hand melting his chill. She did not push him away. Her grip was to hold him there.

Her voice was little more than the fizzle of sea-foam, a reluctant concession. “…We’ll divide it tomorrow. Halve the search time.”

Ash grinned, thumb stroking her cheekbone as freckles poked through her glamor. It was the closest to “you passed” he would ever get.

“Good. Then Friday night, I’m taking you on a date.”

Friday was only two days away. He’d already made the reservation. He’d already cursed himself out for it. Did monsters date? Or would she call it courtship?

Liora froze. Unblinking. Heart racing as her palm burned through his wrist. He waited as she opened her mouth and closed it again. Her brows knitted together as she found her voice.

“A date.” She said the word as if it were in a language she hadn’t learned. Like it was something so utterly foreign, it had never entered her mind as a possibility.

Abruptly, he felt like a teenager again, asking the pretty girl to Applebee’s and knowing she’d reject him. His mouth dried out, tongue too heavy for a moment before he got it under control.

He shoved it all away. If she laughed, she laughed. She was still his. He nodded. Refusing to break eye contact lest she catch wind of his nerves.

“A restaurant. Food. Civility. It’s a stupid, human thing.” He leaned in, his breath kissing ice over her ear. “I want to sit across from you and watch you pretend you don’t want to set the place on fire just for the hell of it.”

He never gave her a chance to respond. The ‘no’ hadn’t come. She could yell at him about sentiment and foolish notions later.

He was already walking back towards the lights of the town, leaving her standing on the dark beach. The echo of his improbable, too soft, mundane wish hung between them and the stars.

Even if she burnt the place down before their appetizers arrived, it would be worth it.

This fragile new world of theirs could use some excitement. He was glad to provide the stage for it.