Katarina pointed a claw at her. “Do not go against my wishes.”
“We have to do something,” one of the winged men said. “Without hurting her. Hellhounds weren’t always evil. Once, they retrieved and saved souls from the underworld.”
The two looked to be in their midthirties. One was white and scarred from head to toe, his only spot of color his crimson eyes. The other was bronzed with rainbow eyes. Both were as beautiful as their wings in an eerie nonhuman way.
“What to do, what to do.” Keeley brightened. “I know! I gave her a ward to prevent pregnancy...and a ward that’s essentially an off switch. Because I’m awesome, and I always think ahead. Three cheers for me!”
What! “You tricked me.” And she would pay.
“Well,” Taliyah snapped. “Flip the switch!”
Katarina swiped out her arm, intending to claw through the pink-haired beauty’s throat.
Keeley smiled at her. “Sleep,” she said, and a second before contact, it was lights out for Katarina and both of the dogs.
* * *
Music filled the nightclub as a live band played on stage. Crowds of people—scratch that, crowds of immortals—packed every inch of the place. Katarina sat at a corner table, pre-hungover but post-buzz. The dogs lounged at her feet, licking her ankles every few minutes to let her know they were on guard.
She’d awoken from her impromptu snooze about an hour ago and found herself and the dogs in an unfamiliar but lavish office, sprawled across a plush leather couch. She’d remembered what had transpired in the bar and had gone in search of Keeley, grateful for the preemptive measures the girl had taken, a lot miffed, but desperate to apologize. For one brief moment, she’d wanted to kill the girl. Kill her. As in, end her for all eternity.
If she’d done so, Katarina never would have forgiven herself.
Was that the same kind of struggle Baden endured on a daily...hourly...basis?
She’d discovered she was still inside Downfall and though Keeley had taken off, Kaia, her sister Taliyah and Bjorn and Xerxes—Sent Ones, the winged warriors were called, a species in charge of angels—had still been present, preparing for the club to open.
“Don’t worry about the Red Queen,” Bjorn had said. “She’s already forgotten you.”
“Sit, relax,” Xerxes had said, escorting her to the table she now occupied. “Enjoy the show.”
“Aren’t you worried she and her canine entourage will eat your guests?” Kaia had asked. “I mean, they’re hellhounds! Do you know how many of my clan died because of those things?”
Was Katarina to be hated, even ostracized? “I can go.”
Taliyah had patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t be dumb. I’m thinking about becoming gay for you. You’re worth knowing now. And as long as we keep your secret, no one will come after you and your dogs.”
Now Katarina watched the happenings inside the club with wide eyes. These people—immortals—partied like rock stars high on a cocktail of crank, adrenaline and top-of-the-line steroids. They danced with abandon, hands wandering, bodies gyrating. Some of the creatures had wings, but every set was different and specific to each immortal. Some wings were feathered while some were made of membrane and bone. And the colors! Everything from snow-white to jet-black. Rainbows everywhere probably wept with envy.
Some of the immortals had horns. And not just on their heads. Some had snakes rather than hair. Living snakes. An instinct she hadn’t possessed before the pups changed her told her not to look those snakes in the eye. Some of the immortals had fur rather than skin. It was as if every fairy tale she’d ever read was represented here. Mythical creatures she would have sworn were the product of an overactive imagination—or nightmares, yeah, mostly nightmares—walked by her.
The most startling thing? She now belonged among them. She might not fully shift into a hellhound, and she might still be susceptible to age and death, but she was too dangerous to be around humans, her temper a little too hot to handle. If ever she lost control and used her razor-sharp teeth and claws...
She was strong enough for Baden, physically and every other way. Not that he would ever know it. The bastard! But...
The truth was, she already missed him, and tristo hrmenych, she still ached for him. Was he thinking of her? Regretting his commands?
The burn returned to the backs of her eyes, though once again, no tears formed. Deep breath in...out.
She studied her new world more intently, grateful for the distraction. Whatever the origins of the immortals, none