Necromancer Legacy - 10. Party crashers

Jay’s long necklaces dangled over his snug black t-shirt as he poured tequila into twelve shot glasses.

Yeah. Twelve.

Nick stood with Sasha at one end of the long, slick black bar counter. They had claimed this section of the bar as their own, as it seemed Sasha had decided they were getting drunk tonight—considering he had ordered twelve shots and all.

“Didn’t you say you were working tomorrow morning?” Nick asked.

Sasha made a show of ignoring him completely.

Jay produced a bowl with a bunch of lemon slices. After taking Sasha’s money, he smiled, said “Enjoy!” and then he was off to help out some other young people with their bad lifestyle choices.

Nick looked down at the shots lining the counter.

“This is so not okay. You’re underage.”

“So are you,” Sasha retorted.

“Fair enough.” They each picked up one shot glass.

They exchanged a glance.

And they drank their first shot of tequila.

Then they bit into a lemon slice.

“It had been a while,” Sasha said. “I’d forgotten how disgusting tequila is.”

“What are you talking about? Tequila is delicious everyone knows that.”

“Oh yes. Exquisite. My taste buds,” Sasha said, “they really crave more.”

“Mine too.”

Sasha’s lips twitched into a smile.

They drank their second shot.

Nick made a face; the stuff was gross indeed. But he felt good. The music was becoming more intense all the time; not so much fast-paced, but more intricate, less repetitive. Perhaps the DJ was clicking more stuff on his computer, and pressing more knobs. Nick didn’t know. But he felt like dancing.

The place was undeniably crammed up by now. People were bumping into them, milling about. A lot of shirtless dudes. Sasha and Nick defended their little section of bar counter fiercely.

“So Hazel’s a werewolf,” Nick said to Sasha.

“Yeah. And Liv’s a demon.”

“Uh-huh.”

Completely normal conversation.

“And she wanted to kill you?” Sasha’s eyes searched Nick’s.

Nick just nodded.

“But she didn’t.”

“Your powers of deduction,” Nick said, “very sharp.”

“Hey you can’t blame me for double checking! Cyan is dead and he’s over there dancing with your friend Roxy.”

“Good point.” Nick felt a bit light-headed; either the music was increasingly good, or he was starting to feel the alcohol.

They soaked up their third shot.

After biting into a lemon slice, Nick asked, “Wouldn’t you be able to tell the difference, though?”

“I don’t know.” Sasha shrugged. “Cyan’s act is well rounded-up.”

On a whim, Nick grabbed Sasha’s hand and pressed it to his chest, so that Sasha would feel his heartbeat.

“Do you think I’m dead now?” Nick asked him.

Sasha looked a bit unsteady on his feet. “Your, um,” he swallowed, “your heart is beating really fast.”

Nick let go of Sasha’s hand.

They downed shot number four.

“Hey, I thought that,” Nick said, “I thought foxes and wolves didn’t get along.”

Sasha shrugged one shoulder. “Me and Hazel decided we could be the exception.”

“Cool.”

Sasha licked his lips. “Are you jealous?” He leaned his hip against the bar counter. His shirt was riding up a little, revealing a hint of flat abs, and that V shape his hip bones did.

“What? No. Maybe.”

Sasha laughed.

Nick said, “You’re a fucking tease, you know that? I hate you.”

“Hate you too.”

Shot number five went down. One to go.

“I think I’m drunk,” said Sasha.

And Nick said, “I think that was the point.”

They had inched closer to one another, and now their arms were almost touching. Nick felt shaky, shivery; he felt like something would burst inside him if he didn’t touch Sasha.

Nick watched as Sasha ran a hand through his tousled hair. Sasha’s skin was a nice pale gold shade, and the little hairs on his arm were blonde. He wore that necklace again, Nick noticed, with the pendants tucked under his dark orange t-shirt.

Sasha reached for his last shot glass. Nick did the same.

Shot number six; down.

Nick’s throat burned. There was only one lemon slice left in the bowl. They reached for it at the same time. Nick was faster.

“Jerk,” Sasha told him.

But Nick didn’t bite into it. Instead he placed it between his lips. And he looked at Sasha through lidded eyes.

Sasha hesitated for a half-second. Then he moved closer, tilted his head, and stole the lemon slice from Nick. Their lips touched for a brief moment—too brief.

“I’m ready to dance now,” Sasha said in a low voice.

“Aw, I’m proud of you; all it took was one drink and six shots.”

Sasha laughed. “I secretly like our sarcastic conversations.”

“Not so much a secret now, is it?”

Sasha said nothing. Instead he threw one arm around Nick, pulling him closer. They were almost the same height; shoulder to shoulder, eye to eye. But Sasha glanced away, scanning the crowd.

“Do you want to go find your friends?”

“No. I don’t care.”

There were too many people at this point. It would take forever.

With Sasha’s arm still around Nick—Sasha was definitely starting to act different; more confident, more relaxed—they wandered along the edge of the dance floor, and they found a spot with some room to dance, next to a table where a bunch of people shared a pitcher of sangria.

Nick ignored everybody else. He just focused on Sasha. Nick let the music fill him, and he started to move. They were a bit shy at first, in spite of the alcohol levels in their blood. But it became easier. Nick held his breath as his hands reached for Sasha’s hips. He relaxed as Sasha leaned into him. They started to dance together.

It wasn’t perfect. It was clumsy, and awkward, but they laughed it off. They didn’t care. They tried again, getting used to the rhythm together, adjusting to each other’s movements.

“Nick.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry.”

“About what?”

“Everything. The way I acted—”

“It’s okay,” Nick said.

“No, it’s not.”

Nick turned Sasha around in his arms. He wrapped his arms around Sasha’s waist, and kissed his neck. Dark blonde strands tickled Nick’s face.

Sasha rolled his head backward, like he wanted more. So Nick kissed his neck again.

“Fine. It’s not okay. But I can’t stay mad at you.”

“Why?”

Moron.

“You know why,” Nick said in his ear.

Sasha turned around. They were face to face again. They didn’t stop dancing.

“Nick.”

“That is my name.”

“I’m not… straight.”

Nick gasped dramatically. “I am shocked!”

“It’s not funny.” But Sasha was smiling. “I’m drunk, okay? I’m trying to open up here.”

“Sorry, sorry. Please carry on.”

“I’m probably… at least bi,” Sasha said.

Nick laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.”

Nick took a deep breath. And then he kissed him. Sasha kissed back like he’d been waiting for this all night. Nick felt it everywhere; he felt it in his spine, he felt it in his fingertips. His hands crawled under Sasha’s shirt, touching the soft skin there. Nick smiled between two kisses.

“At least bi,” he repeated. That killed him.

“Stop laughing,” Sasha protested.

“Okay.”

And they kissed again.

 

***

 

They danced for two hours. But it felt like fifteen minutes.

Sasha was the first to protest when the lights were turned on in the club.

“No, come on, that’s impossible!”

A flush ran across Sasha’s cheekbones, and his lips were a bit darkened. Sasha clung to Nick as they watched people heading for coat check.

“Guess it’s 3 am already,” Nick said. It was like someone had hit the fast forward button.

“I don’t want to go home,” Sasha said stubbornly.

Nick smiled. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

“Just when I’m drunk.”

“We could try to find an after party, or something…”

Someone tapped Nick’s shoulder from behind. Nick whipped around and came face to face with a shirtless Cyan. His dark blue eyeliner was a bit smudged, and his blonde hair was tangled.

“Hello! Did someone say after party?” He winked. “I know just the place.”

Nick and Sasha glanced at each other. Shrugged.

They followed Cyan outside. The cold night wind hit hard and Nick clung to Sasha for warmth.

“Where’s the party?” Sasha asked Cyan. “Should we take a cab?”

“No need,” said Cyan.

As people spilled out of the club and onto the sidewalk, Nick craned his neck to try and find his friends. But he had no idea where they were.

Cyan started to walk up 9^th Avenue and Nick fell into step behind him with Sasha, their arms around one another. But then Cyan made a turn into a tiny alley between two buildings. Nick frowned as he followed him. He saw garbage cans and graffiti of some kind of animal on the brick wall—the lamppost’s yellow light didn’t reach very deep in the alley, so Nick couldn’t be sure.

“There’s nothing here,” Sasha said.

He was good at stating the obvious like that.

Cyan clasped both their shoulders, startling them.

“Let’s get going, shall we? I’ll introduce you to my mates Raven and Jun. We’re like the three musketeers. You’ll thank me one day. It’s good to have friends in high places. It’s all about the contacts, in this world, or the next. Now, hold on tight.”

“What is he talking about?” Sasha asked.

It wasn’t easy to tell in the dimness, but Nick thought the world started to blur around them. When he understood what Cyan was doing, it was too late to stop it. The ground tilted underfoot, threatening to send them sprawling. For a terrifying moment it was like they lost their senses—nothing could be seen or heard, like they’d been sucked into a black hole—and then the world reappeared. But it was different.

Cyan had brought them to a wide and long snowy path that ran between two streams of calm black water. And at the end of the road a tall black building towered up in the sky. They could hear music coming from it, carried by the wind.

“Are we where I think we are?” Sasha asked.

His pale eyes were wide and he looked frightened. Nick reached for him but Sasha stepped away, almost tripping in the snow.

Nick glared at Cyan, clenching his fists at his sides.

“You brought Sasha to Hell. Again. What are you thinking?”

“Oh come on don’t be so dramatic Nicky. You’ll love it. There’s different music on every single floor. But the best music is all the way upstairs. That’s my friend Raven’s private club. I’m taking a shortcut. See you later!”

“A shortcut?” Nick stared. “What do you mean?”

Cyan winked. There was a discreet but sickening sound like skin ripping, and then a rustling. Sasha and Nick stood side by side and stared in complete bewilderment as something massive came out of Cyan’s back. Two things, to be exact. Two huge, golden, feathery things.

“I got promoted to Dark Angel recently,” Cyan said, like that explained everything. “Brilliant, right?”

Without further ado, he kicked himself off the ground, flapping the air with his wings. And Cyan flew up like some giant, bizarre blonde bird, all the way to the top of the black tower.

Sasha grabbed Nick’s arms suddenly, like he needed to hold on to something, anything.

“What’s going on? What about our bodies? Are they still back in that alley?”

“I don’t think so,” Nick surmised. “The last time Cyan brought me here, he didn’t leave my body behind. I was really here. I think the same thing is happening now. I’m sorry. I had no idea he would do this.”

“We can’t be here! We’re not dead. Are we dead?”

“No! He wouldn’t do that.”

“Oh, so now we trust him?”

Sasha was shaking. It was cold, and Sasha was only wearing a thin t-shirt with jeans and Converse sneakers. Nick rubbed Sasha’s arms to try to warm him up.

“No, we don’t. But he said that people with supernatural abilities can come to Hell before their death. We’re gonna be okay. I don’t think he’s trying to hurt us.”

Sasha glanced around with panicked eyes, and Nick followed his gaze. They were in the middle of nowhere. Beyond the two thin streams of black water, beyond the tower, were vast snowy lands that seemed to stretch out forever. The cold wind carried the scent of smoke.

“How do we go back home?” Sasha’s green eyes were gleaming a bit, like he was on the verge of crying. His breathing was jerky.

“I don’t know,” Nick said, though it pained him to disappoint Sasha.

Cyan had explained a bit about teleportation, how he was supposed to think about blood and visualize his destination and everything. But Nick had never tried it; what if it was dangerous? He didn’t want to risk putting Sasha in that kind of danger.

“What do we do?” Sasha insisted.

“Please don’t be scared. I’m so sorry… God, this sucks. You shouldn’t be here.”

Nick pulled Sasha closer, and Sasha leaned into him at once. They held each other tight as the cold wind rose, stirring the snow. Everything was so still and eerily luminous despite the absence of moon or stars in the dark sky.

“Don’t be scared?” Sasha whispered in Nick’s ear. “How am I supposed to do that? Last time I was here, a black tree came out of the ground and lifted me in the air so fast. And it grew so high and I was stuck and there was the wind and the branches kept cracking and—”

“I know. I was there, remember?” Nick said.

Sasha seemed to relax a bit in his arms. But he was still tense. Nick was worried, too. He wasn’t too concerned about trees. Rather, he didn’t want those lovely shadowy black folks to start showing up.

“Let’s go inside,” Nick suggested.

Sasha pulled away and looked up at the tower. “Inside?”

“You have a better idea?”

Nick started to walk, his boots stomping the snow and leaving big imprints behind. Sasha rushed to his side.

“Okay, fine,” Sasha said, “but I’m so not going to that top floor. I don’t care if Cyan’s friend owns it. Why does he think we care? He’s so weird. I’m not going,” he stressed. “That’s crazy high.”

It wasn’t that high, in Nick’s opinion. It wasn’t as high as the average New York skyscraper. But he held back his comment; Sasha was afraid of heights, and Nick didn’t want to be an asshole.

They kept advancing along the white path, and the black tower—which seemed to be made of a glittery, crystalline material—was getting closer, and the music louder. Everything seemed to be black and white in this universe. Except for the sky, Nick mused as he looked up; right now there were large clouds made of rich violet smoke, translucent red and dark blue.

“It’s so weird,” Sasha said as he followed his gaze.

“Doesn’t seem real,” Nick whispered.

“None of it seems real.”

“But it is,” Nick said.

“What makes you so sure?”

Nick looked down and took Sasha’s hand, linking their fingers. “We’re here together, aren’t we?” He squeezed Sasha’s hand as they kept walking.

Sasha averted his gaze, but he squeezed back.

“I guess so. We can’t both have the same dream.”

 

***

 

No one stopped them as they walked in, passing the heavy metallic double doors. The ground floor was almost empty; dark gray walls, wrought iron candle holders placed at intervals, with just a few people here and there talking and sipping colorful drinks they had gotten from a small glossy bar counter in the corner. Nick saw the beginning of a spiral staircase and led Sasha that way. They started climbing up. The stairs seemed to be made of black marble.

“I don’t want to go to the top,” Sasha said, but he followed Nick anyway.

“We have no choice. Cyan’s our only way of getting back.”

“It should take a while getting there, no?” Sasha asked.

“What’s the problem? Worried about your cardio, Mister swimming teacher?”

“I’m not worried about that. What’s your sport, anyway? You seem to be in pretty good shape. Or do you just go to the gym or something?”

“I never told you that?”

“What?”

“I do indoors rock climbing. I teach it part-time too, to beginners.”

“Oh, wow. That’s kinda funny. You hate water; I love water. I hate heights; you love ‘em.”

Nick just smiled. They kept clambering up the shiny black stairs. There were candles in wrought iron holders here, too, lighting up the spiral staircase that seemed to climb up infinitely. Each floor they passed had better music than the last.

“God, the music is amazing!” Nick said before he could stop himself. The floor they’d just passed had music that reminded him of Infected Mushroom. Good stuff.

“You shouldn’t use the name of God here,” Sasha pointed out.

“Why not?”

“It’s pretty obvious, Nick. Do I really have to say it?”

“If he minds, he can just come and tell me himself.”

“Why do you assume God is a man? That’s sexist.”

“Fine. If she minds, she can just come tell me herself.”

Sasha rolled his eyes. “You’re so arrogant.”

“You like it.”

Every two or three levels, there was a small window. As Nick looked outside, he was almost taken with vertigo. It wasn’t so bad in New York, where there was no shortage of high buildings. But here there was one single tower and then nothing for miles around.

“Don’t look outside,” he told Sasha. “No matter what. Don’t look.”

“Not looking,” Sasha said. “Got it.”

They kept going. Even though they were in good physical shape, climbing all those stairs took its toll on them. Nick’s leg muscles were starting to complain, and he could tell it was the same for Sasha.

As they got higher, and higher, Nick risked a glance out a window again. In the distance, he could see white tipped mountains lining the horizon. And the starless sky, stretching out forever.

They remained silent to save their breath. Sasha avoided the windows, keeping his gaze down. Now, Nick was used to climbing stairs due to his dislike of elevators, but he’d never gone up that many stairs before. That was a lot of stairs. And they were spiraling, spiraling. It made him dizzy.

After what felt like a half-hour—a long half-hour—Nick made it to the very last landing. Sasha was right behind him, short of breath. They had climbed up the spiral staircase of doom and survived to tell the tale. It wasn’t a very entertaining tale, though. Mostly painful; Nick’s leg muscles were on fire.

They weren’t in a club. There was music, but it was faint. It seemed to come from upstairs. Was there one more floor, then? Nick couldn’t see stairs anywhere. A few candles provided the only light. Nick discerned curtained stalls along the walls. And in one corner Nick saw about a dozen barrels on the floor. A young man stood in front of a table with one barrel on it. He was pouring what looked like fruit juice from the barrel into glasses, and then setting the glasses on a tray.

Nick padded closer with Sasha, and the young man turned around when he heard them. He had dark brown skin and his black hair was braided in cornrows.

“Hey there! How’s it going? Is it to reserve a stall?”

Nick arched an eyebrow. “Um, no.”

“Are you on the list?” the guy asked.

He produced a sheet of paper from his jacket’s inside pocket.

“What list?” Nick asked.

“Raven’s list. My name is Riley,” he said. “I work for Raven. Do you know Raven? If you don’t, you probably shouldn’t be here.”

Nick’s head jerked to the side as he heard a rustling from behind one of the curtains. There was a soft sound like an animal’s paws thudding across the floor. Then a nozzle, round brown eyes and pointy ears—black ears with white fluffy tufts inside—emerged from the curtain.

It was a big black dog that looked like a mix between a husky and a wolf. It trotted over to Riley, but it was growling. It seemed to be growling at Sasha.

“Are you a werewolf?” Riley asked Sasha, pointing a finger. “My dog doesn’t like werewolves.”

Sasha flinched. “’M’not a werewolf.”

“He’s a werefox,” Nick explained.

Sasha nudged him. “Fox spirit,” he muttered, “jerk.”

Riley was petting the dog. “Calm down, Koda,” he said softly. “It’s okay.” He shrugged, looking up. “Weird. He doesn’t usually have a problem with fox spirits.”

“See?” Sasha hissed, leaning toward Nick. “Even he says it right.”

“Anyway,” Riley said, “are you guys acquaintances of Raven’s, or not?”

“We’re not,” Nick started to say, “but—”

“Then you should probably leave,” Riley said.

“But we know Cyan,” Nick offered.

Riley stared with unreadable dark brown eyes. “Never heard of him.”

Nick and Sasha exchanged a worried glance. But then Riley burst out laughing. It sounded genuine and sincere and apparently it was contagious; Koda the dog stopped growling, and instead he wagged his tail.

“You guys! Your faces! Too funny. Course I know Cyan. Who doesn’t?”

“Right?” Nick shrugged. “Everyone knows Cyan.”

“Exactly!” Riley grinned.

“We love that guy,” Sasha added, and Nick nodded in agreement.

Riley raised a finger. “Hey, I heard Cyan got himself promoted to Dark Angel recently.”

“So did we. We heard that too.” Nick did some more nodding.

“We’re really happy for him,” Sasha smiled.

Riley was still holding his list, and he drew a pen from his pocket.

“All right, you guys. Tell me your names so I can add you to my list.”

“Nick Russell and this is Sasha…” He realized he didn’t even know Sasha’s last name.

“Sasha Reed,” Sasha finished for him.

Riley jotted that down, then put away the pen and paper.

“Okay, we’re all set!” Riley clasped his hands together. “Do you gentlemen want a drink? Fresh out of the barrel.”

“Yeah, we can see that,” Nick said. “What is it? Looks like juice.” It was pinkish, like pink grapefruit juice.

“Sure! It’s just fruit juice.” Riley winked.

Nick took one to be polite. Sasha did the same. But they didn’t taste it. Riley picked up the tray.

“You guys can follow me. I need to take this upstairs anyway.”

He led the way to the opposite side of the room, where another, much smaller staircase was hidden behind the last stall.

“More stairs,” Sasha muttered.

But it was worth it.

The top floor was amazing. For starters, that music. It wasn’t that far from what Nick was used to—electronic, or trance; dancey stuff—but at the same time it had a mix of a myriad of instruments that made it so different. Nick thought he discerned violin, flute, guitar, drums; it was an unlikely mix, but it somehow worked, like the pieces of a puzzle all coming together. And the sounds were so intense, they resonated through him, like they came from within. Nick felt it in his bones.

As they entered after Riley they saw shimmery black walls that appeared to be made of crystal. There were giant glassless windows through which people with wings—because, yes, there were others like Cyan; dark angels?—were able to get in and out easily. The ceiling was pure silver and it was shining, like light emanated from its very material. Nick had to blink and look away; after so much darkness, that ceiling was so bright it hurt the eyes. Nick saw no speakers. He had no idea where the music was coming from. But it was perfect; loud and yet not too loud. And the whole room, the dancers, seemed to be vibrating to the same frequency.

In each corner, crimson flames rose up from tall vases, curling up in the air and almost licking the ceiling. Everything about this place was eerie. But not hellish. Nick thought it was beautiful.

And it wasn’t so much the place, it was the people. Nick saw girls and boys in tight black clothes like what Cyan always wore. Others wore trendy outfits, the kind of stuff you would see in a normal club. A bunch of guys had their shirts off. The kind of thing you would see in a gay club.

Most of the shirtless guys had wings, though, which was a fair excuse. Girls with wings had a variety of backless tops on. So even in Hell, girls didn’t go topless. Huh.

What really struck Nick about these people—even more than the wings, which was saying something—was that they were young and beautiful and without a trace of smugness in their eyes. They just looked free. Like they didn’t care about anything. Like they would never even think of judging someone that would pass through that door to come party with them. There was a vibe about them, like anything was possible. Like there was no tomorrow. No past, no future. Only now.

Sasha tapped Nick’s shoulder, and Nick jumped out of his skin. He’d almost forgotten to breathe. He’d been completely spacing out.

“There’s Cyan.” Sasha pointed toward one of the glassless windows.

He wasn’t too difficult to locate. Nick spotted large golden wings and followed Sasha as they pushed their way through groups of dancers. Cyan’s feathers’ color seemed pretty unique. Nick saw a few people with white wings, one person with red wings, and another with blue, but the majority of the wing population was black.

“Where’d Riley go?” Nick asked.

“He put his drinks on a counter and went back downstairs. Wished us a good night.”

“Riley seems nice,” Nick decided.

“I don’t like his dog,” Sasha replied.

Nick noticed the counters now. They lined every wall, and drinks of all colors of the rainbow were on display. But there were no bartenders, no shelves, nothing. Just a plain counter lining the edges of the room. And drinks. So many drinks. Which reminded Nick he had one in his hand.

He looked down at the pink beverage. “Did you try this?” he asked Sasha.

“No. Don’t drink that! We don’t know what’s in it. Come on.” Sasha grabbed Nick’s arm and urged him along. “We can ask Cyan to take us back.”

It seemed Sasha had sobered up after climbing all those stairs. Nick still felt a bit light-headed, though. He was hypnotized by this place. He wasn’t sure he wanted to leave.

Cyan was hanging out with two people; a small Asian girl with black wings and a pale, shirtless tall guy with bluish black hair and wings that matched. They were leaning against the counter, Cyan half-sitting on it. The view from the window just behind them was breathtaking; Nick glimpsed that mountain chain in the distance again, but from up here it was magnificent, like the world was so vast, the mountain chain interminable.

They were sipping turquoise drinks.

“Oh, don’t drink those pale pink ones. They’re nasty,” Cyan advised when he saw them.

Before they could say a word, Cyan took their glasses from them, putting them away. And instead he furnished them with two turquoise ones.

“You’re welcome. Cheers,” Cyan said.

“I don’t want to drink,” Sasha hissed. “I want to go home.” He flinched when he looked up at the window. He was very pale, like he was about to throw up.

“Just don’t look,” Nick told him.

Cyan ignored all that.

“Nicky, Sasha, meet my mates Jun and Raven. Jun is Chicago’s Reaper. Raven is a Higher Demon and technically our boss.”

Raven—the one with the bluish black hair and wings—said: “Not just technically. What does that even mean?”

Jun was stepping closer to Nick. She wore all-black: sneakers, short shorts, and one of those backless tops. Her long, wavy black locks were as shimmery as the walls, and she had thick lines of kohl around her brown eyes.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” she said. “The boy who is still alive but already has demonic abilities.”

“I also go by Nick.”

The corner of her lips twitched. She was a small and delicate girl, but the tone of her voice and the look in her eyes betrayed a fierce and confident character. She took a sip of her drink, and Nick did likewise reflexively; he was a regular drinker like that. It was becoming a problem.

Of course, Sasha freaked out. “Don’t drink that.”

“Too late,” Nick said.

It was delicious, actually. The taste reminded him of flavors like green tea, lychee and kiwi.

Jun pushed her thick hair behind her shoulder as she turned to look up at Sasha.

“It’s not poisoned, you know. You should try it. It’ll relax you.”

To Nick’s surprise, Sasha gave in and tasted it.

“It’s not that bad,” Sasha conceded, licking his lips.

Jun smiled. “There you go. I’m going to hang out on the roof for a bit.” She had a hint of Chinese accent, Nick noted. But it was almost undetectable. “Have fun, you two.”

She leaped over the counter, onto the window ledge, and then she took off. At first she dived down, but then they saw her flying back up. Nick smiled.

Glancing to the side, he saw that Sasha was wide-eyed. And he had gone pale again.

“Relax.” Nick rubbed Sasha’s back. “No one’s asking you to grow wings and fly.”

Sasha drank more of the turquoise stuff.

Raven and Cyan were deep in conversation.

“…but the history books always get it wrong,” Raven was saying in a calm voice. “Every time.”

Cyan replied, “So get down there, pretend to be human, and publish your own versions. You’ve had a thousand years to practice; you must be a bloody good writer by now.”

“Eight hundred and fifty years,” Raven corrected.

Nick shrugged and decided to explore the room a little more. He placed his hand at the small of Sasha’s back as he started to head toward one corner. Nick was intrigued by those red flames.

“What are you doing?” Sasha asked.

“Exploring.”

They walked past little groups of dancers and Nick led them to a quieter spot in the corner, next to those flames. They came out of a metallic vase, and they elongated beautifully in the air, but they produced no smoke. They were warm but not too warm. Nick reached up with a hand.

Sasha tried to stop him. “You’ll burn yourself.”

“I don’t think so.”

His long pale fingers came in contact with one of the fleeting flames. He smiled; it didn’t burn him, in fact the flames felt rather soft, almost like silk ribbons.

Sasha touched the flames, too. He let out a little startled laugh.

“It’s so soft,” Sasha said.

Their fingers touched through the flames. Sasha pulled his hand back teasingly. He soaked up more of his drink.

“And this blue stuff is so good,” Sasha admitted.

“Maybe you should slow down,” Nick said.

But Sasha just kept drinking. When he finished it, he tossed his empty glass on the nearest counter. Then he stepped closer to Nick.

“I don’t know if we took acid without knowing, or if this is really happening, but I’m really glad you’re here with me.”

Nick’s chest felt warm. “I’m glad you’re here with me,” he said back.

Sasha reached up to touch Nick’s hair. “You’re beautiful,” he said.

“And you’re high. Are you high? I’m gonna go ask Cyan what’s in those drinks…”

He made to leave but Sasha held his arm.

“I like you,” Sasha went on. “I like… your eyes.”

Nick was amused. “What about them?”

“They’re like chocolate.”

That reminded him of something unpleasant. “Liv said that, too.”

Sasha faltered. “Nick. If that demon girl ever hurts you, you have to tell me. I’ll help you. I’ll kill her. My mom was a witch and a fox spirit.” Now Sasha had a fire in his eyes. “She was a bad ass. And so am I.”

“I believe you.”

Sasha still held onto Nick’s arm. A shadow crossed his green eyes; it was like he was jumping from one emotional train to the other.

“No, I’m not a bad ass, though. I mean, everyone has issues, right? When I was a kid, I went on a family thing. With my folks and Gabriel. In the country. I loved it. The stars at night, right? I mean, New York is beautiful, but it’s just not the same… Anyway.” Sasha swallowed. Looked up. “It gets kind of boring after a while though, right? So I’d find stuff to do. Like climbing trees.”

Nick glanced around. He wanted to grab someone and ask them what was in the turquoise drinks. But the people here—even though they looked all free and careless and all—were a little intimidating. Especially the ones with the wings. Nick didn’t feel too comfortable bothering them.

Sasha continued, “So one night I sneaked out and I climbed that really high tree, and I fell. And I broke like, every bone in my body. Okay, I’m probably exaggerating, but still.” He spoke very quickly, every word rushed. “I couldn’t move. All night I couldn’t. Strangers found me in the morning and drove me to a hospital and I was all alone and I hate hospitals.”

Nick didn’t know what to say. He held Sasha’s arm, stroking it with his thumb.

“And I lied to you,” Sasha said, nodding, “when I told you it would be my first kiss if we kissed. In the cab. On the first night.”

“I figured.” Nick shrugged one shoulder. “You’re a good kisser.”

But Sasha was frowning. “There was one other person. Last year. But I wanted to forget about that, you know? I really wanted to forget about it. I wanted to pretend like it had never happened. I was lying to myself.”

Sasha’s tone was somewhat desperate, like he really needed Nick to understand, or else he would break down or something.

“It’s okay. I get it. You don’t have to talk about it. You can tell me when you’re ready.”

Sasha looked like he was about to say something else, but then the music stopped abruptly.

There was a sort of awkward silence across the room as everyone exchanged confused glances with one another.

Nick and Sasha advanced through the crowd and found Raven and Cyan.

Following their gazes, Nick saw that Riley had been pushed to the floor next to the entrance. He looked hurt. His big black dog—Koda—was growling at two people that stood in front of everybody else.

A tall brunette girl, and a man with olive skin and dark hair that spiked up in the air.

Nick whispered something to Sasha. “So, you know how we were talking about Liv?”

“Yeah?”

Nick glanced at the two party crashers—particularly the brunette girl—with an unsettling feeling in his stomach. “That’s her.”

And the guy standing next to her was probably—

“Lucas,” Cyan said, his voice piercing the silence. “What are you doing here? I don’t think Raven invited you.”

“No,” said Raven, crossing his arms, “no, I didn’t invite him.”