CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 4
ALEXEI VOLKOV

I open my eyes. "What the fuck?"

It's a lot that gets me shook—and it should—because I've fought and killed a shitload of supernaturals in my life. But when I take stock and realize not only did the invite succeed, but it also deposited me on the creepiest fucking dock in the world, I'm shaken.

I turn, but I don’t find anything behind me except swirling mist. The sight of it chills me, helping me realize I don’t want to venture into it. Iron spires rise up on both sides of the dock, blocking me from even jumping into the water. Not that I’d want to; who the hell knows what’s down there. With my shit luck, I’d probably end up dinner for some weird-ass supernatural fish. "Guess I'm walking forward." I step out, half expecting the dock to give way under me. For all I know, the entire night can be one giant trick to get rid of a hunter. What if I'm walking into a trap? Wait. I stop, reaching down to my pant leg, and dig out my dagger. What the fuck? I raise the black cloth and search for my holster to discover that it's gone.

"Perfect." Not only can I be going into an ambush, but now I don't even have the two guns I risked bringing with me.

I glance over my shoulder while rising to my feet in hopes that perhaps leaving is the better option now. But with nothing behind me but black. Here we go.

Heavy fog blankets my ankles as I continue walking, swirling around me in all directions and cutting visibility to almost a few inches in front.

Spooky quietness surrounds me, and although I don't notice anyone else, I can't help feeling as though I'm not alone here. A red door is in sight. Finely worked patterns are cut into the red paint—lines and whirls that make it look like something ancient. It opens before I can even grasp the handle, and two of the creatures I've always heard of but never seen move out, black leathery wings beating. They pause just in front of me, glowering at the far end of the Iron Pier. Gargoyles. The moment they touch down, they begin to move, each of them sliding across the ground in concert until two enormous men stand where the winged creatures floated a moment earlier. They're identical. And what I mean is precisely the same.

Their black skin is the same color, their eyes the same color…heck, their noses are in the same bloody location on their faces.

The only difference between the two is the slightly longer dreads the left-hand one is sporting. He offers a hand. "Invitation."

Digging into my jacket, I take out my parchment. "Can you make it without one?" I taunt.

He laughs and glances at his partner. "This guy's a joke."

"A joke hunter, brother? You sure?" 

I straighten. "You know what I am?"

"We know what everyone is."

"But we pay special attention to the guests who try to sneak in weapons, Hunter. Can't have any trouble now, can we?"

"You're the ones who took them?" I insist. When? How? I was a little damn surprised, but not so far gone I would have let someone get inside my fucking clothes.".

He smiles. "We did not. The Mistress of Shadows would not have blood spilled in her night." He moves to the side and opens the door. "Welcome to The Blood Moon Gala, Hunter."

"Thanks, I guess," I whisper, as I cross the threshold.

"Hope you don't end up lost in The Devil's Veil like so many others.

"Wait, what?" I spin around, and the door slams shut behind me, and I'm enveloped in complete darkness. "Well, this is fucking great."

A wave of nausea threatens to knock me to my knees as my body is ravaged from the inside out. My head is sounding like a klaxon of warning as my instincts are crying out to me that something is wrong, that all of this is not right. No fucking shit.

A moment passes—or are two moments? But when I blink again, I'm no longer in the dark. A glass door is in front of me. Something—or better, someone—comes out of it and bows to me. A Lost Soul? This is a first night, isn't it?

I catch myself staring at him as he pushes open the door, and a spidery tune drifts up from the room—the foreboding song making the hairs stand up at the back of my neck. Shit, this is really happening. Just in case I'm imagining the whole thing, I reach up and pinch the arm. Immature? Yeah, but it does the trick. The ache throbs across my skin, reminding me that I have to be awake.

I just lost my fucking mind.

The Lost Soul hardly notices me at all, but he does appear to be getting frustrated with waiting for me to enter, so I stroll over and stop cold.

"Holy shit. Is this the—" The Golden Stair is looming ahead of me, classic and beautiful interior something I recognize at once. I can't even begin to tell you how many times my sister had me watch the part where Jack walks— Wait a fucking minute. Talk about a coincidence. I shake my head in disbelief. So, not only am I on the so-called Unsinkable Ship, but I have the same name as someone who died on its first voyage.".

That can’t be good.

And that’s not even considering the fact that I’m supposedly in the middle of The Devil’s Veil.

Pristinely polished wood surrounds me, golden inlays on black iron spindles beneath the wooden handrail. It’s perfect and certainly doesn’t look like it spent the last hundred and eight years beneath the ocean.

Maybe someone just fucking adored the movie so much that they wanted to recreate it? Surely no one can pull it out of the depths of the fucking ocean?.

The door swings open behind me, and I glance back over my shoulder at the newcomer, completely not prepared for the wind to be taken out of my sails…because that's just what happens when a gorgeous woman comes striding in, dark eyes wide with delight taking in the inside. Holy shit. She is stunning—breathtakingly so—in a black skirt and crimson red corset overlaid with black roses. It hugs her top half, lifting up full breasts and giving me an incredible view.

"Won't this be marvelous?" she asks, her chocolate brown eyes locking with mine. I'm speechless—silent—something very out of character for me. "I don't think it's the ship!"

"I thought it was a very good replica." Hah, regained my voice.

"Sergei and Leonid were just telling us it's the real ship."

"Sergei and Leonid?"

She nods to the back of her head. "The gargoyle doormen outside. Didn't you meet them?"

"We didn't quite exchange pleasantries."

"Oh." She smiles, and I'm pretty fucking sure my heart bounds. I haven't responded like that to a woman in over three years. Since the very first moment I saw— I shake my head. Not today. 

"I'm Natalia." She smiles and holds out her hand, and I move forward to grasp it in mine. Her skin is silky against my own—fragile.".

"I'm Alexei." She laughs, her eyebrow going up. "Alexei? Seriously?"

"Seriously. Pretty terrible coincidence, given where we are, I suppose." "I think so." Her smile is so damn fucking bright it's almost painful to look at, and I can't help myself. She lifts a hand, and I catch a glimpse of a tattoo, a gorgeous blot of watercolor under a long feather and paw print. Is she a shifter? Her Native American heritage is evident in her olive skin and dark eyes, so it's safe to assume if she is one—she's royalty.

Or she at least is from one of the wealthy families.

Either way, she's fucking gorgeous.

Okay, goodnight, Alexei." She glides by me and out of sight down The Golden Stair. I follow along behind, enjoying the way her hair falls in loose waves down her bare back. I don't want to lose her. I try to remind myself it's because she's a shifter and I'm looking for one who can give me answers—but honestly, a part of me appears drawn to her.

I shake my head. I don't come here to make friends, and certainly not with a shifter. They are our enemies. I was born to kill creatures like her.

"Hey! Wait up!" Even taking into account how much of a bad idea this is, I couldn't help but have the words spill from my mouth.

She stops halfway up the stairs and turns, giving me a curious glance over her shoulder. What could it possibly hurt to play a little part this evening, anyway? I mean, if I'm going to find any answers, a shifter from a higher lineage seems like a good place to start. The chance that she or one of her family members has a seat on the Council is a hell of a lot more likely than some stranger I might encounter tonight.

"Do you want a drink?"

She looks me up and down, nods. "I think I would like a drink."

"I figured this staircase would be bigger," I say and nod.

"Me too, truthfully,"

We descend the stairs together, and the mournful melody swells louder—drugging the senses. It's a soft song—sad, powerful. I move ahead of Natalia to open the door and hold it back for her.

She watches me as she walks by, as if it's not a habit she's used to. Maybe she's profiled me as a hunter and wishes to find out why I haven't tried to kill her yet.

"That doesn't happen every day," Natalia says. I glance where she's glancing and blink simply to be certain I'm not dreaming the transparent Lost Souls floating in air between two women dancing on the ceiling in perfect synchrony with the beat.

"I can honestly say this is a first for me."

Natalia's laugh echoes out, the husky sound surrounding me like a fuck aphrodisiac. The entire room is some kind of otherworldly burlesque show. Women without shirts dance on tables littered throughout the room. They move in flawless synchrony, and at the same rate, as the women on swings. We move further into the room, surrounded by couples of varying dress, swaying in rhythm to the beat, grinding their hips slowly.

Some are dressed from head to toe in entire gowns or black suits. Others are dressed, well, much less.

Something slams into me, hard muscle that almost pops my shoulder out of joint. Reflex has me reaching for my blade, but naturally there's nothing fucking there. The thing sneers down at me, completely hairless, its long snout resembling a hyena. He shows me sharp fangs the length of one of my fingers. What the fuck are you?

"Watch where you're going," it growls.

"You bumped into me, asshole," I spit back.

It moves closer to me, its saliva stinking and making me ill all over again. Finally, after a pause in which I seriously think about how to yank one of its fangs out and stick it, it snorts. "Not worth it," it growls and walks away.

"That's a first for you, too," Natalia says when I turn back to her.

"What?"

"The Zmey Beast." She points to the beast now with his back to us swaying to the rhythm.

That's what it is. "First time for me, too."

We continue pushing down the room until finally the bar comes into view, two red-blooded coffins stretched wide and nearly overflowing with every sort of liquor. I draw closer, and I see there's more than just liquor on the shelves. "Blood?"

"Vampires, my love. It's for the vampires," a voice shouts above the music.

I face away from the bar and am confronted with one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. White hair, red-eyes, she can be but one thing—and as with some of the creatures I have met this night, I'm shocked. I had assumed that succubi had all been purged.

She smiles at me. "I'm Ekaterina Sokolova, sweetheart. What can I get you and your lady?"

"Uh, she's not—"

"Your specialty?" Natalia cuts me off, kindly saving me from what I'm sure would have been a gigantic foot-in-mouth moment of my life.

Ekaterina leans over, showing the inky black tattoos snaking up both arms. "Kiss This, beautiful." She winks once more, and I feel the sting of jealousy.Jealousy. Over a shifter. What's wrong with me?