“Shady?” Eddi rapped his side of the metal, causing the thing to rumble like thunder rolling in the distance. “You need me, holler.”
“You can count on it.” She wheeled away, picked up a black tennis shoe lying under the crate, and it came flying at Nik’s head. Only his quick reflexes saved his face from a hard thump.
“How dare you play with his mind?” she hissed, the claret specks in her eyes flaring in anger.
“It saves time.” He resumed his normal form and glanced at the dingy mattress. Yeah, no, he’d rather lie on the dirt-crusted floor.
Feet shuffled beyond the metal sheet, a door shut, then the footsteps receded. The old man had left.
“Give me a description of the gang leaders,” Nik said. Time to get to work, find those pricks ASAP, before this female became another statistic.
Her delicate features hardened. “Rough’s about six-foot, skull-trimmed black hair. Deeply tanned…” Her gaze skated over his forearms and biceps. “And inked to his eyeballs, too. Acts like he owns the world.”
Nik ignored her goading, strolled to her, and handed her the footwear. “He makes his rounds in The Refuge and these parts?”
“In this filth?” She gave a feminine snort. “He wouldn’t be caught dead here. He has his goons policing the area, even though this isn’t part of his kingdom.”
“And the other leader?”
She shrugged. “Don’t know, never met the jerk.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why so interested in them?”
Nik didn’t sense any falsehood in her response. He shrugged. She might as well know the truth. “Someone’s been abducting homeless children and women and taking them to the Dark Realm—to the demon world.”
Her striking eyes widened. “Oh, dear Lord, Tomas,” she whispered. “He’s a homeless boy. Demons snatched him from right in front of me several months ago. Well, he’d run off after I’d taken him to The Shelter. I gave chase, and that’s when they appeared and grabbed him.”
“He’s safe. Týr, another Guardian, found him,” Nik reassured her.
She nodded, gnawing her lower lip, making Nik want to take over, taste her mouth—hell, he shut off the thought. She suddenly stilled, her gaze rushing to the door at the distant thudding of footfalls.
So, she possessed heightened hearing, too?
What else could she do besides fight demoniis like a pro, parkour like an ace, and knee him in the balls?
Nik watched as she paced back and forth in front of her makeshift bed for a few seconds, then he strolled to the door and halted in front of it.
“Who taught you how to scale drainpipes?”
“Halen, Eddi’s demon partner. Said it was safer to be up on a building, staking out prey, than on the ground.” Her gaze flickered back to the door. “He was killed a few years ago.”
Of course. It had to be through him she learned about the Guardians.
“Did he also teach you how to fight like hell?”
“No, that was Eddi.”
That she answered him without a scathing look or sarcastic comment meant whoever approached scared her. A wave of protectiveness rushed through Nik, making him want to kill the bastards. “Why live here in the underground?” he asked her.
A shrug. “When one doesn’t have any other place, this is as good as it gets.”
Nik frowned at her response.
The heavy pounding on the metal had Shadow stiffening and his sensitive eardrums rebelling. Damn fuckers. Nik scanned outside. Two humans.
“Time’s up,” a voice yelled. “We know the old man’s gone.”
Shadow retrieved the stolen wallet from her jacket pocket, removed the bills, then got out a few more from her backpack. The hammering reverberated harder, and she jumped, making Nik want to break the idiot’s hand.
“Stay out of sight,” she told him, marching across.
“Are these thugs close to the leader?” he asked quietly.
“Yes.”
Nik took on his shadowy form, becoming one with the gloom.
“Jeez, you’re scary as hell,” she muttered before yanking the door open, revealing the two goons.
The bald, thickset one with tattooed cheekbones smirked. His leather jacket stretched across his shoulders as if would burst its seams. The ponytailed, scrawny dick next to him sported piercings on his ears, lip, and a spider-bite on his eyebrow. He stroked the hilt of his switchblade sheathed to his belt under his gaping, too-large coat.
Did the Arc seriously think he looked like these dumbasses because of his ink?
“Please say you don’t have it.” Tattooed cheeks grinned. “Rough waits to play with you, and we get a turn, too.” He waggled his tongue as if licking her, his gaze skating down her body.
Nik wanted to yank the organ out and feed it to him.
Harm no human, his Guardian oath reverberated in his skull. Too bad, he cared little when it came to shits like them. And this one moved to the top of his hurt-list.
Shadow slapped the money in the thug’s heavily beringed hand. He counted. “You’re short.”
“I still have a few days. Now get out!”
“I’ll be back, bitch. Count on it.”
She slammed the door and paced the five steps to the metal sheet, her fingers clenching and unclenching. She swiped them down her short skirt.
“I could take care of them—”
“No.” She stomped back again in those heels, dragging her fingers through her heavy fall of hair.
“What was the money for?” Oh, he had a good idea but waited to see if she’d share.
“Rough and his assholes think they own everything underground, and that’s payment for rent.”
“They take money from everyone here?”
“No, just Eddi and me, ‘cause this basement supposedly abuts his territory. I’m going out. I have to find Joyce.” She cut him a terse look, her pale features strained. “Lock up with your voodoo magic when you leave. I don’t want my things missing.” She grabbed her keys and stalked out.
The urge to follow her took hold, but he had a direct link to the gang leader he was after.
Nik locked up and dematerialized in a scatter of molecules. He coasted a short distance behind Shadow as she stormed along the debris-littered ground. Moments later, she stalked into the gloomy Refuge, appearing too ethereal to belong in a doomed place like this.
“Joyce!” She hurried toward a young female with brown skin and black, springy hair, holding a little boy. “I’ve been looking for you.” Her voice lowered. “Rough has his goons looking for you. Go to The Shelter, please. It’s safer.”
“I don’t have much choice, do I?” the woman whispered, clutching her young close, her fear abrading Nik like a steel brush.
“Hey, you’re not alone. I’m here for you…”
Yeah, the little fighter would be.
Nik coasted past them, tracking the stink of unwashed bodies beneath the cheap cologne of the two who demanded payment from Shadow.
Several turns later, the two slowed in an open area where gang members of both genders hung about, some seated on old armchairs and crates, others making out in dark recesses. Skinny dick rapped on a graffitied metal door. It opened a moment later, revealing a beefy skinhead demon. He tensed as if sensing Nik, dark eyes flashing red as he rapidly scanned around.