Lapidary
Chapter 12

I slept until noon the next day and then forced myself to get up. I missed the days I was a morning person who woke, ready for coffee, with a smile on my face. Those were the days I used to wake next to Ryker.

Going for a run would make me feel better, but I couldn’t summon the will. So, I forced myself to eat cereal instead. Through the kitchen window I watched Sachiel walking on the beach with her wings dragging in the sand. I’d never seen an angel drag their wings before. What was wrong with her?

When I was done eating, I went back to bed and lay there, but I couldn’t sleep anymore. I only got up when it was time to dress in my ridiculous neon pink dress. Despite Devton telling me gloves weren’t part of the uniform, I pulled on my black gloves again to cover my scars.

I forced myself to eat two power bars before going to My Night Habit. Once I was inside, I saw Megzith and instantly averted my gaze. Too late. She saw me. The vampire strode over to me, still and graceful like the night, and flashed her fangs. She tossed my empty pouch, which she had taken yesterday, to me.

“Fill that up for me, bitch.” She grinned.

I gritted my teeth as she walked away and began to set up the tables with Zara and Sorciz. The club filled up quickly that night, and I was working in the VIP section again. I went to a table where a woman with neck-length green hair sat. She wore a tight purple, strapless dress which had a high slit by her left thigh.

“Hello, I’m Natka, and I will be your waitress this evening,” I said politely. “Can I get you anything?”

She looked me up and down, and for a moment I thought she wouldn’t answer. Then she said, “Natka, do I know you? Your name sounds familiar.”

I’d never met her or seen her before, so I said, “I used to play violin. You probably read Natka Roqueze somewhere.”

She nodded. “Ah. Of course. You dated Ryker Featherswallow.”

Hearing his name made my heart tighten, and I instantly looked down. Maybe she had read one of the many articles gossiping about Ryker and our relationship.

When I didn’t answer, she said, “Bring me a seaweed-vodka cocktail.”

I nodded before leaving and went to the bar. The bartenders were busy, so I mixed the drink myself and returned to the green-haired woman.

“What time are you done working?” she asked me.

“Four-thirty,” I responded, caught off guard by her question.

She nodded, and I wasn’t sure if she was acknowledging my answer or dismissing me. When she didn’t speak again, I left. The rest of the night was busy and flew by. When the bar closed and we finished cleaning, I was surprised to find the green-haired woman, standing, alone, outside.

“Are you okay?” I asked her.

“Walk with me,” she responded.

I didn’t know her and certainly didn’t feel comfortable leaving with her. Megzith turned away from us instead of coming to take my well-earned money. “I’m tired and going home.”

“I want to talk about Ryker,” she said.

My attention snapped toward her like a whip, and I found myself following her away from the crowd, toward the nearest harbor.

“How do you know Ryker?” I asked her.

“We go way back.”

It wasn’t really an answer. Had she attended his funeral? I certainly hadn’t. Bellevue had made it perfectly clear that I hadn’t been welcome, and I hadn’t wanted to go stand between our mutual friends who had never bothered to contact me after his death.

The green-haired lady stopped walking at the edge of the harbor where the waves lapped against the bricks. It was quiet and private out here. “Do you know how he died?”

I raised an eyebrow because Ryker’s death had made headlines, and she should know that. “The Sky Watch labeled him a suicide.”

“But do you believe it?” The desperation was plain in her voice, but I couldn’t understand it. “Was he unhappy? Did you make him unhappy?”

How insulting. I turned to go, but she grabbed me and pulled me back.

“I loved him, and he loved me! We made each other happy,” I cried.

Then she shoved me, and I fell backward, into the ocean. I lost both my heels and kicked for the surface. I looked at the harbor, but the woman was gone. Moments later, she appeared next to me, and I realized two things. One, she had jumped in. Two, she was a mermaid.

“How could he possibly have loved a mortal?” the mermaid asked.

Before I could respond, she jumped up and forced my head underwater. I thrusted against her, but she was stronger. She kept pushing me down. I clawed frantically, dislodging one of her scales. I punched her in the stomach, but the water slowed me down, and my blow didn’t have any effect. My vision was going black, and if I didn’t do something soon, I’d drown. I reached up the mermaid’s back and got a handful of hair. I pulled as hard as I could, and the mermaid leaned backwards, letting go of my head. I kicked for the surface and gulped in air before screaming as loudly as I could. Then the mermaid grabbed me by the feet and pulled me under again.

In this moment I realized one thing: I didn’t want to die.

Suddenly, the water below us heated up, like a boiler. I looked down to see golden flames, flames from the Netherworld that could only be summoned by a daimon, flames that could burn underwater. The mermaid let go of me and swam upwards. I followed, but her head broke the surface before mine.

I coughed and then saw Devton standing on the edge of the harbor, with one hand stretched out in front of him and his eyes glowing gold. Devton was a half-daimon. Strangely, his eyes weren’t black, yellow or red like most daimons’. His blue eyes could be genetic, and they turned gold when using magic. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, thus I could see a tattoo on his chest and a sleeve on his left arm in which he held a surfboard.

The next moment, an angel swooped down and snatched the mermaid out of the water. He dropped her on the harbor, like a fish, where another angel with grey wings stood. They wore the white Sky Watch uniform, and I watched while they cuffed her.

I swam to shore, and Devton extended a hand. I let him pull me out of the water.

“Attempted murder is illegal,” one angel said. “You’ve just earned yourself a ticket to Shark Bay.”

“My mother will hear about this,” she hissed.

The angels looked my way, and Devton nodded to them. They didn’t come over to ask if I was all right. They just grabbed the squirming mermaid’s arms and carried her toward Shark Bay Prison.

“Thank you.” I turned my attention to Devton. He hadn’t helped me when the wraith had attacked me, and he hadn’t helped me when the vampire had stolen my money. “Why’d you help me?”

He hesitated. “Because you want to live.”

His words stayed with me. I shamefully touched my wrists, and his eyes went to my gloves. He must have known it wasn’t a good time to reprimand me, so he said, “Can you tell me why Lakelyn Shelby was trying to drown you?”

I almost fell over from shock. “That was Lakelyn Shelby?”

His nod was confirmation. I ran my fingers through my wet hair and shivered. She had clearly loved Ryker and had held onto their relationship, long after he had left her. She’d asked questions about his death, which meant she was also uncertain about what had really happened. She had flipped when I’d told her we had loved each other and had been happy. Lakelyn had tried to kill me out of jealousy.

“I dated her ex-boyfriend,” I said.

“Ryker Featherswallow?” Devton asked.

I nodded and absentmindedly touched the ring which was hidden by my gloves. This wasn’t how I had imagined my conversation would go with Lakelyn once I’d found her.

“When will she be released?” I asked Devton.

“Her mother will get her out within the week.”

“Shit,” I mumbled. Devton raised an eyebrow, so I answered his unspoken question. “I need to talk to her.”

“Why?”

I drew a deep breath. I didn’t trust him and was certainly not going to tell him that Lakelyn had mailed Ryker a letter days before his death, to say that she would send him the White Crystal.

“I don’t think Ryker committed suicide,” I said. “I think Lakelyn sent him something valuable, and the wrong people found out and killed him for it.”

“What did she send him?” Devton asked.

I didn’t answer, and he offered me a jaw-dropping grin. I hated how nervous it made me feel.

“Okay, keep your secret,” he said. “It just makes me want to get to know you even more than I already do.”

Like an idiot, I remained silent, because I had no idea what to say.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said.

“That’s not necessary,” I responded.

“I insist,” he said. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I began walking, barefoot in the sand, and he followed me. His eyes had returned to their blue color, and he looked so…normal…. Carrying his surfboard.

“You surf?” I said then bit my tongue. What a stupid question.

He didn’t answer me in a demeaning way. “Yes, it clears my head and relaxes me. Do you?”

“No, but I’ve always wanted to learn.”

“We can add that to our bucket list,” he said.

We reached the beach in front of my cottage, where I halted. “We have a bucket list?”

“We do now.”

I tilted my head upward so that I could look into his eyes. He was standing so close to me. “What else is on this list?”

“You’re welcome to add things, but number one is: Shark Bay Prison.”

I arched my eyebrows. “What?”

“I’ll take you there the day after tomorrow. Don’t go to work – I’ll meet you here.”

Daimons were known for being liars and manipulators, and Devton couldn’t be different. Why was he helping me? There had to be something in it for him. It was only a matter of time before I found out what it was.

“Okay,” I said.

Devton’s gaze dipped to my breasts. A frown spread across his forehead, and I realized he must see the tip of the archangel’s feather.

“Usually, when males stare at my breasts, they’re not frowning.”

Surprisingly, his cheeks went red, and he stepped backward, reminding me that he didn’t have a shirt on. And oh, Ayana, was he hot. His body was a perfect sculpture of muscles and lines, and his skin was surprisingly tanned. I read the curved writing on his chest, tattooed in a crescent, just below his collarbone: I am what I am. Was this his way of warning people about his dark daimon nature? I wanted to ask about it and his other tattoos, but it might be seen as intrusive.

Devton looked at my gloves. “What’s with the gloves?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly. Clearly, he didn’t mind asking intrusive questions.

“Take them off next time you come to work,” he told me. My silence must have made him think that I agreed. “Sleep well.”

“You, too,” I mumbled.

As he turned to go, I noticed another large tattoo on his back. Over each of his shoulder blades he had a wing that reached down to his spine. These weren’t feathery angel wings. They were similar to a bat’s and had a hooked claw on the top. They were daimon wings. What a bold tattoo to get, as plenty of daimons were aware of the stereotypes that they were evil and tried to hide their identity. Clearly, Devton wasn’t ashamed of what he was, and he wanted the world to know. Did he want people to fear him? Why wasn’t I scared? I was cautious, but never scared around him.

I entered my cottage and instantly went to bed, but nightmares of Ryker, falling to his death, woke me during the night.

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