Cian

Backstage turned into long, snaking hallways, leading to places I couldn't see. There were no lights, and Nick didn't carry a flashlight, so he was leading me blindly—well at least, I could barely see--through the dark. It was all I could do not to trip and land on my face.

Squinting in front of me, I shivered at the unforgiving cold of the air around me. Once upon a time it would have meant my brother was here, but now, I was still having to constantly remind myself that any cold I felt was most likely of natural causes—weather, air conditioning, and the like. I grumbled, "Nick, where are you taking me? This place seems a bit far from the cave Eden took—uh, took Lucie to."

My throat burned at the sound of her name. It should have rolled off my tongue easily, but didn't. It choked and cut at me with each letter, each syllable.

Nick let out a hearty laugh, yet it was sickening to hear. "The cave? We fallen angels are too picky to dwell there. That's just where we perform rituals—you know, the stone's good for carving symbols. You'll learn."

I frowned. "Sure."

"We've turned the concert hall into our home," Nick elaborated. "The front part we left mostly untouched. But the back, where we're headed—oh, you'll see."

I didn't appreciate the ominous way in which he said it, and decided I didn't want to hear any more. We fell into silence as we walked on, only the rhythmic strike of Nick's and my footfalls to keep my mind from drifting. By now, my eyes were straining from looking into the dark for so long, and I blinked them a few times, which did nothing to ease the discomfort.

I wondered if Lucie had gotten home yet. Was she mad at me? She was probably mad at me. And Vince...

No. I couldn't think about either of them; they were going to distract me. Now that I was so close to Nick, I had a mission, and the sooner I carried it out, the sooner I came home.

"What made you do it?" asked Nick all of a sudden. "What finally made you come to me?"

I dropped my gaze, not answering.

"It wasn't Eden's death, was it?"

The words stuck inside of me like a blade, and I couldn't fight a flinch. He said it so casually. Eden's death. Like she hadn't been brutally murdered by a demon under his control, like her blood hadn't spilled and spilled while everyone watched. He said it as if it was peaceful, like she'd just gone to sleep and hadn't woken up. But nothing about death was peaceful. I knew that better than most.

I let my sarcasm bubble up from within me. "Finally came to my senses, I guess."

"Don't lie to me."

"Who cares, Nick? The point is, you won. You won your sick game, and now I'm here. What's the point of rubbing it in?" I said, unable to fight the bitterness in my tone. This might have been a mistake, because suddenly the sound of Nick's footsteps ceased, and there was a rush of air as he whirled on me. All I could see were his eyes, burning with contempt as he closed my throat in his fist.

A smile twitched at his lips as I squirmed, trying to get enough air in my lungs. "You see, rubbing it in is the fun part," hissed Nick. I gasped, clenching my teeth and glaring at him through bloodshot eyes. "Listen, Horne. You work for me now. And since you do, you will respect me. No more snapping, no more resisting. You belong to me."

"I'm not your property."

He tightened his grip, crushing my windpipe. I wheezed. "I'd watch what you say to me."

"Why? You're not going to kill me," I taunted, my voice hoarse from lack of air. Stars were beginning to dance across my eyes. "You can't kill me. I'm too important to you."

Nick opened his mouth to say something, hesitated, and pulled his hand free with a frustrated grunt. I instantly relaxed, shoulders heaving as my lungs opened up again. A couple blinks and the stars disappeared, yet my throat still throbbed in pain. I swallowed as the fallen angel ordered, "This way. We're already late."

I decided not to ask what we were late for, merely kept walking. I was tired of being in the dark.

The light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak, finally came when the narrow corridor broadened to a brighter hall of what had likely once been offices. The carpets were torn up to reveal the unstained wooden floorboards, nails and screws in plain view, and the walls were painted a deep maroon. Further down, a staircase led up to who knows what. I had to admit; I was impressed. I'd never known the concert hall was so extensive, or that someone could make a home out of it.

It wasn't a particularly nice home, but it was a home, nonetheless.

We passed a few of the former offices, which, I had guessed, no longer housed desks or shelves, but twin beds and dresser drawers. Some of the dwellings were nicer than others, but I only got a glimpse of a few before Nick stopped at a door.

He knocked, and a voice came from inside: "Nick, is that you?"

"Yes. He's here."

"He's here?" replied the voice, and then the door opened. A woman poked her head out, skin ethnically bronze, eyes a deep brown. A women's suit clung to her curvaceous form, her expression turning to one of surprise as she regarded me. "Oh my. He's even more handsome than you said."

I tried not to blush. I blushed.

Nick didn't seem fazed. He shoved me in through the doorway, following me inside.

I turned to get a look at my surroundings: a twin bed made with crisp, white sheets, unblemished gray walls, a bedside table with a healthy potted plant. I was in someone's bedroom? What the heck was Nick planning to do with me?

"How hard did you have to work to get him here?" asked the woman, regarding Nick, who stood behind me.

"Oh, he's stubborn, that's for sure. But he's here now. Are we ready to test him?"

"Test me?" I started to whirl, uncomfortable, but never made it that far.

Something blunt connected with my head with a thunk, pain coursing through my body.

My world flickered out.