Shattered Promises (Shattered Promises #1)

She shakes her head and tries not to smile. “That’s a great way to look at things.”

Surrounding the car are abandoned buildings. The windows are boarded up and there are no lights on inside any of them. The only proof of human existence is a guy wearing a black hooded jacket, cargo pants and army boots, who scurries down a dark alley when he sees us.

Laylen silences the engine and the radio, and then shuts the lights off. It gets quiet and very dark.

“Are you okay?” Alex asks and his low voice sends vibrations along my skin. “You look freaked out.”

“I’m fine,” I lie, clicking my seatbelt loose. “I’ve been chased by a pack of Death Walkers for crying out loud. It can’t get much worse than that.”

“Yeah, it can, Gemma. Things can get a lot worse,” he states definitively.

I’m not sure if he’s trying to scare me, but he is making me uneasy. “Like how?”

“Don’t worry,” he says in a husky voice. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“You say that all the time,” I state quietly. “And I’m starting to wonder just how bad things are; how much protection you think I need.”

He keeps his lips close to my earlobe. “It’s not about things being bad. It’s about me making a promise.”

I tilt my head a little and my cheek touches his lips, but he doesn’t move. “I reiterate, sometimes it feels like you’re speaking in code.”

Aislin clears her throat. “Um, guys? I think we should go in and get this over with.”

Her voice breaks the connection and we both move away from each other; Alex returns to the other side of the car.

Aislin surveys the buildings. “So what’s the game plan? Just go into the place and get the stuff? Where is the Wicca shop anyway, because these places all look abandoned?” When Laylen stares silently out the window, Aislin rotates in the seat to face him. “Laylen, did you hear me?”

He lowers his hand from his lip ring and mutters, “The Wicca shop isn’t inside any of these buildings.”

“What do you mean; it’s in none of them?” Alex asks. “What the fuck’s going on?”

Laylen vacillates. “I needed to stop here first before we go and pick up the crystal.”

There’s a split second where I can feel the heat of hell breaking loose and then Alex scoots forward in his seat. Even though his movements are slow, they’re full of warning. “I thought we all agreed no extra stops.” His voice is so controlled it sends a chill down my spine.

Laylen slides the keys out of the ignition and keeps his voice unvarying. “Before you start getting your panties up in a bunch, hear me out. Trust me; you’ll want what’s here.”

“Trust you?” Alex lets out a cynical laugh. “Are you kidding me? I already trusted you and look where it got us.”

Laylen thrums his fingers on top of the steering wheel. “The Sword of Immortality is here…” He points at the closest building. “At the Black Dungeon.”

Alex balls his hands into fists and a vein in his neck bulges. “And why is it at the Black Dungeon?”

“I lost it during a poker game a few months ago,” Laylen answers evenly. “I thought I had an unbeatable hand. Turns out, I didn’t.”

“So, let me get this straight.” Alex is livid. “You stole it from the Keepers just so you could lose it in a poker game.”

“I stole it for a good reason,” Laylen replies. “I didn’t want to leave it in the Keepers’ hands after I became immortal. You guys made it very clear about your feelings for me when I changed.”

“We wouldn’t kill you.” Aislin presses her hand to her chest, flabbergasted. “Laylen, how could you ever think that?”

“Because it’s the truth,” he says simply, not meeting her eyes, instead he’s staring at the street sign.

Silence takes over. Dogs howl in the distance. Tension pollutes the air. It’s at that moment that I realize just how out of the loop I am. They have history, they understand the secrets of the world; the one’s no one believes in because believing in them is too terrifying for the average person.

“I’m sorry, but what exactly is the Sword of Immortality?” I finally dare to speak.

“Exactly what it sounds like—a sword that can kill an immortal,” Alex says, tapping his fingers restlessly against the console. “And it would have been really useful back at the cabin. Then maybe we’d have been able to kill a few Death Walkers, instead of running like a bunch of pussies.”

My fingers curl around the edge of the seat and my nails dig into the leather. “So, right now, at this very moment, if the Death Walkers show up, we can’t kill them?”

“All we can do is run.” He pauses and I can hear the fury lacing each huff of his breath. “So what’s the big plan, Laylen? Because now that I know it’s up there, there’s no way we’re walking away until we have it.”

“I haven’t really gotten that far.” Laylen points at a two-story brick building with a crooked rain gutter and a rickety sign on the roof. “All I know is that it’s up on the second floor, in a secured display case.” He glances at Aislin. “A display case secured by black magic.”

“Black magic’s not my specialty,” Aislin utters softly. “You know that.”

Laylen holds her gaze. “Do I?”

She nods and averts her eyes to the window. “You know my father would never allow it.”

He reaches over and delicately touches her arm and I see a glimpse of their history; the ones in the pictures. “I’m sure, if you think really hard, you can figure out a spell that would get us in.”

She’s quiet for a while and when she speaks, her voice is barely audible. “I could do an effrego alica. It’ll remove the Black magic around the case long enough for us to break it, but, if there are alarms…” She looks at Laylen with sadness in her eyes as she draws her arm away from his hand. “That I can’t help.”

Laylen pulls his hand away and rests it on top of the shifter. He looks even sadder, if that’s possible. “If there are alarms, then we’ll run.”

Alex shakes his head. “That’s the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard. Besides, how are you going to even get up there? From what I can remember, there are guards all over the bottom floor and the stairway, which is the only way up to the second floor, without flying.”

“I’ll pretend that I’m going upstairs to feed off Aislin,” Laylen says flatly. “It’s the only reason they let people up there.”

“And what if one of the guards or someone like Draven goes up there?” Alex asks in a clipped tone. “Then what?”

“Who’s Draven?” I wonder. “And what the hell is in this Black Dungeon?”

“Lots and lots of evil,” Alex mutters as his gaze traces the lines of the nearby buildings.

“Draven is the owner of the club,” Laylen explains, staring off in deep thought. “And someone will have to stand at the bottom of the stairway… You and Gemma can do that and send a text if something is about to walk up. I’ll go up with Aislin and stand guard at the entrance of the room. I’m more than capable of protecting her.”

“And then what? You hide? Run?” He frowns. “There’s only one way out of there.”

“Look, I’m not the one who is in desperate need to get the sword back,” Laylen points out. “We can either leave, Aislin and I can go in blind and try to get the sword, or we can all go in and watch each other’s backs and have a better chance at getting in and out undetected.”

“We need that sword.” Alex flops back in the seat, bumping my shoulder. “And what about Gemma? She’s going to stand out like a sore thumb down in that crowd.”

I run my hands along the front of the dress. “I thought you guys said this would help me blend in?”

Alex shakes his head. “You’re innocence is written all over you; they’ll eat you up.”

“Literally?” My voice cracks.

His gaze slides to me and he analyzes me through hooded eyes. “It depends on what literal we’re talking about, but to clarify, I mean they’re going to want to get their hands and teeth all over you.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I keep quiet.

“She could pretend she’s one of them,” Aislin suggests. “And you know how they view Black Angels that aren’t locked up—they’re like goddesses to the Immortal.”

“She can’t pull it off,” Alex states bluntly. “She’s too reserved and weak.”

I slug him in the upper arm. Not to prove a point, but because he’s pissed me off. “I’m not weak. I’ve put up with a lot of shit over my lifetime.”

He winces a little and then his fingers cover his arm. He scans up my legs, my dress, my neck and lips, finally stopping at my eyes. “You really think you can go in there and pretend like you’re a powerful, domineering, Angel from hell.”

I nod, even though doubt floods my body. “Yes.”

It is such a lie, but he buys it. Or maybe he just decides not to care so much about me and care more about the sword. “Fine. We’ll hang out on the bottom floor in the club area, next to the stairway. Aislin and Laylen you’ll go up and get the Goddamn sword.” Laylen starts to open the door when Alex reaches forward and snags the collar of his shirt. His eyes go dark and his voice comes out in a low growl. “If you’re up to something, I’ll get the sword myself and use it on you.”

Aislin’s eyes widen and so do mine. Laylen stares at Alex inexpressively and then nods his head once. Only then, does Alex release him. As I climb out of the car, I know I’m in over my head. Vampires. Witches. Werewolves. Hell’s Angels. No matter how many supernatural books I’ve read, it’s a hell of a lot different than real life.

The moon illuminates against the alley and lights up the puddles on the ground. The air reeks of mold and wet dogs, and the garbage cans ooze filth onto the ground that crunches beneath my shoes.

Laylen stops in front of a rusty door at the back end of a warehouse and holds his fist to the door. “Is everyone ready for this?”

“Probably not.” Alex gestures his hand at the door. “But let’s get it over with.”

Laylen lets his hand fall against the door. A couple of seconds later a small flap at the top of the door glides open and a pair of dark eyes peer out. “What’s the password?”

Laylen elevates his forearm up to the flap. The flap slips shut and is followed by the sounds of several locks clicking. The hinges creak as the door swings open. Behind it is a man shorter than me with bony arms and greasy black hair. He’s dressed in black jeans, a jacket and across his neck is the same tattoo as Laylen has on his arm.

“What does that mark mean on his neck,” I whisper to Alex.