Destiny's Fire (Kythan Guardians 1)
Lana shrugged. “Whatever, come on. I want to get my dance on before we leave.” She grabbed my hand, threading her fingers through mine, and edged me toward the stairs.
I surveyed the basement one last time, making sure all the weapons were hidden away. I sheathed my dagger into its holder against my ankle, hidden beneath my leather breeches, and nodded to Nick. He climbed the stairs and lifted the hatch as I pulled the chain, outing the gas lamps.
As I ascended the rungs, the
music that had been a low, hollow boom in the basement was now loud and deafening. I lowered the hatch, stomped on the floor door, and slid a brass barstool over it. Nick pulled back the heavy black curtains, revealing the club. A swaying and bopping crowd cluttered the dance floor. It was almost closing time, but the club was still at full tilt—Shythe and humans dancing. Though the humans were unaware of the shape-shifters in their presence.
Lana bounced up and down, her black and too-short mini-corset barely concealing, well, anything. She latched onto my hand and steered me toward the dance floor as Nick rolled his eyes at his sister. He cocked his head in the direction of the door, holding up five wriggling fingers, indicating he and Jace were stepping out for five minutes. I nodded back.
The beat abruptly changed as Lana batted her eyes at Devon, the lead singer of Current, the band working Cogs’ music scene. Devon was Shythe like us, and he also ran Cogs. Humans didn’t question how the bar operated with its high voltage chemical light show, or instruments that wailed out sounds from a steam pipe no violin or guitar could emulate. Devon boasted that most were all too happy to hide away in the club and dance, content to get lost in the industrial music and booze.
I marveled at all the disguised devices in the bar. Devon ran the majority of Cogs on Charge—Shythe power—secretly cloaking it behind pistons, gears, and makeshift contraptions, while the rest operated on steam power—the Narcolym-forged technology that had shaped our world.
He tipped his top hat and winked at Lana before adjusting the knobs on his guitar. Guys were putty in Lana’s hands when she wanted something, and Devon was no exception. For months now, when she made her way onto the floor, he’d play whatever song she deemed hers at the time. This week, it was a fast-paced urban melody. She squealed and grabbed my hands once again, pulling me along to join her in the jumping throng.
I shook my head, but couldn’t help being tempted to dance as the adrenaline from sparring coursed through my system. I stepped onto the slippery metallic floor and glanced around at the flailing bodies. A guy with long, dark dreads, wearing a black leather military jacket and gloves, turned toward me and gave me a slight nod. I bounced alongside him.
Brass and copper pipes decorated the walls, snaking above the bar and pumping out puffs of steam from the contraption Devon had built to dispense beer more efficiently. Low hanging chemical lamps were scattered along the rafters, and beams of blue, green, and purple jumped out of them in pulses that matched the beat of the synthesized music.
Lana’s long blond hair glowed white against the backdrop of the dark club, her two pink dreads becoming tangled as she whipped her head back and forth. Matching her rhythm, I tossed my head, my dark strands lashing my shoulders as I raised my hands above me. I closed my eyes and danced freely, caught up in the music.
Someone bumped into me—breaking the trance—and my eyes snapped open. My breath hitched as a pair of glowing red eyes caught my attention from across the room. Three Narcolym sauntered into the club through the side entrance, their heads held high.
What are they doing here? They didn’t look like Council members. They looked our age. The Narcolym leaders were supposed to meet with ours, and only at the Shythe Council Building. They were to hash out whatever they had to discuss about the Treaty Act. And that wasn’t supposed to happen until next month. Or so we thought. So why were they here?
I turned my back to them and latched onto Lana’s wrist, gripping it. Her eyes grew wide, and I jerked my head, nodding in their direction. Clutching her shoulders, I spun her around and pressed up against her back. “Don’t let them see your eyes,” I whispered in her ear. “We’ll stay here for a minute, then sneak out the way Nick and Jace went.”
She leaned the back of her head against my shoulder. “Are they full, or like us?”
Discretely, I tossed my head back and forth to the music while glancing at them. Great. One of the Narcos at the bar had a neck tatt, marking him as a full shifter.
“They’re full. Just do what I said.” Lana inched away from me, dancing with her eyes half-shut and head down.
One glimpse into our eyes would be all it’d take. They’d know we were Shythe. Humans couldn’t see our glowing blue irises unless we wanted them to, but other Kythan could. It was one of the features we couldn’t hide from each other. The other—our Kythan ink. I had no clue why the Narcos were here, or what they were up to, but I didn’t want to chance them seeing us and possibly having all hell break lose. And I knew if I didn’t get to Jace before he came back in, that’s exactly what would happen.
I reached for my analog communicator to send Jace a data message, let him know we were on our way out. But before I pulled it from my pocket, arms wrapped around my waist. Anger squeezed my chest. I was about to push the guy off me when I glanced into the wall mirror and saw his neck tatt. My breath and hands halted.
Lana saw him, too, and panic flashed in her brilliantly blue eyes. I bit down on my lip and slid my eyes to the door, signaling her to leave now. Her eyebrows knitted together, and she shook her head. I widened my eyes at her, tersely jerking my head toward the door. One of us had to get away. She reluctantly slipped off the dance floor, glancing back once. I gave a quick nod, letting her know I’d be right behind her as soon as I eased out of his grip—which shouldn’t be too hard, right?
There were plenty of other girls to distract him. All I had to do was hide my eyes from his and walk away, or dance away, as to not offend him. Narcolym were known for their hot tempers.
I danced with him for a moment, allowing his hands to roam over my body as I watched Lana dip out of sight. I breathed a sigh of relief and began inching away, but he pulled me to him and held on tighter, pressing my back against his chest. His hand brushed my hair aside, and he lowered his head. His lips skimmed my neck as he rested his chin against my shoulder.
Waves of fear and panic, and then anger, washed over me. I wanted to reach behind my head and snap his neck. I wanted to break his fingers, which were finding their way under the hem of my peasant blouse, grazing against my midsection. But I couldn’t give myself away. Not to mention cause a scene right in the middle of Cogs, and in front of humans.
“Name’s Reese,” he said, his warm breath brushing against my ear. “What’s yours?”
I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. No way was I giving him my name. When his lips pressed against my neck, in the same spot where Jace’s had been moments before, I shuddered violently. The Narco’s body stiffened behind me. He gripped my shoulders and twirled me around—his face inches away from my mine. His eyes flared red as he stared into my blue flames. Then his lips curled back, revealing his now elongated eyeteeth.
I wrestled out of his hold and bolted for the door. I was almost there when he grabbed my waist. He hauled me against the wall and pinned my hands on either side of me. “You’re not full?” he said questioningly. His blazing eyes searched my neck.
I glared up at him. His black hair hung straight, just touching the dark lashes crowding his glowing red eyes. His face was smooth, fair, becoming fairer by the second. His lips parted, their flushed pink contrasting against his white, sharp eyeteeth. My breath caught as his ears shifted from rounded human ears to pointed as he revealed his Kythan form to me.
“Not yet.” I jerked my head away from his penetrating gaze. “But don’t let that fool you.”
He chuckled. “Oh, I’m not fooled. You’re plenty capable.” His red eyes flicked down my body. “But, no ink, no power. I wouldn’t want to accidentally hurt my new ally.”
I glanced around the dark room, struggling under his hold. “There’re more of your allies here, you know,” I told him, finding his eyes again. “Don’t want to threaten the Treaty Act in front of witnesses, do you?”