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Chapter One
September 2018
It was late on a Friday when I walked out of the airport and breathed in the dusty, overbearing hot air of Phoenix, Arizona. Cars drove by in the dark, trying to dodge each other and pick up their families, friends, or whatever.
I never much liked airports, but I loved Phoenix.
Home sweet home.
“Kaliya! Welcome back!” someone called out.
I turned, wind kicking around my white hair, causing my braids to begin coming undone as said wind pushed through the concrete tunnel. A smile bloomed on my face at the sight of my friend—curly blond hair nearly to his shoulders and a casual look that screamed beach bum.
“Carter!” I called back, waving as I picked up my only bag and started walking toward him. “Thanks again for the ride home. I didn’t like the idea of leaving my car here for who knows how long.”
“It’s no problem. No one wants to leave their car at the airport.”
I quickly tossed my backpack into his trunk and jogged for the passenger’s seat, sliding in as he got behind the wheel.
“So, what was the emergency business trip about?”
“Oh, you know, the Tribunal wanted me on standby,” I answered, sighing as he hit the gas and started to swerve dangerously through traffic. “Please remember, I would die from a car accident, Carter.”
“I’ve never been in an accident,” he retorted.
“You’re immortal, so you’ve got plenty of time to fuck it up,” I countered. His driving didn’t really scare me, but giving him a hard time normally kept him from getting the inevitable
speeding ticket I knew was waiting on him one day.
“Sure,” he said, chuckling. “So, what did the Tribunal want?”
“I was just on standby,” I repeated.
“For the werecat thing?” When I didn’t answer, he sighed. “You aren’t going to tell me anything, are you?”
“Nope.” I was generally close-mouthed about my business trips. “Do you really want to know how a business trip goes for a Tribunal Executioner?”
That shut him up quickly. I leaned toward the window, knowing I made him uncomfortable. I just wanted to be glad I was home.
“Nothing happened,” I finally said. “No execution. The werecat was allowed to walk, and a small loophole was addressed in the werecat portion of the Laws.”
“No shit,” Carter said with a gasp. “You have the coolest job, getting to see all that. I wouldn’t have found out until my Mistress was told, and she decided to tell the nest.”
I smiled, looking at him. “Thank goodness you have better sources than your Mistress.”
“Yeah, just don’t ever tell Imani that. She likes to control what we do and don’t know.”
“Then act surprised when she tells you,” I said, shrugging. Carter’s vampire problems weren’t mine, and I tried my best not to meddle. The last thing I needed was a vampire nest to get pissed off at me, and knowing his Mistress, the leader of the nest, they would if they found out I was feeding information to him that wasn’t carefully worded or put in the right light.
“She won’t tell me. They’ll put out some memo.”
I chuckled again, nodding.
“So, are we taking you home, or do you want to stop somewhere?” he asked as we got onto Interstate 10.
“Take me to The Jackalope,” I answered, watching us fly past other cars. For a moment, I was glad that Carter didn’t have the AC on. It was over eighty, just past sundown, and I loved it. The dry heat the area was known for didn’t feel hot to me; it just felt like home.
“Really? Jumping into it the first night you get back?” Carter seemed surprised, and I looked over at him again, raising an eyebrow.
“How long have you known me?”
“Ten years.”
“How many short, stupid trips does the Tribunal send me on?”
“Probably one or two a year, though not always for actual trials. Normally, they just send you out to kill someone who was convicted in absentia.” He shrugged.
It might say something about me that he said that so nonchalantly.
“And what do I always do when I get back?”
“Go to the Jackalope. Yeah, yeah. I just figured for once in your life, you would take a break.”
I snorted, shaking my head. “You just need to drop me off. I know how your Mistress feels about any of you hanging around there. It’s where the rogue vamps are.” With one more look at him, I reminded him of the last important reason I was going to the hidden supernatural bar in Phoenix. “I left my car there.”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
He pulled off the 10 and got onto the 17 that ran straight through Phoenix. We weren’t on it long before he pulled off to take me to The Jackalope in Downtown Phoenix.
On the corner of 2nd and McKinley there was a strange abandoned building, surrounded by several small lounges, a parking lot, and other little pieces of the Phoenix nightlife. The roadside parking was full, and so was the parking lot. On a Friday night, everyone was out and about. I smiled, blinking several times as I saw the building come into view. The glamor recognized me as a supernatural and revealed its secrets. Humans were turned off by the building—no one wanted to go near it or thought to try to buy it. It was just there, standing the test of time with the bustling city around it.
To me it was The Jackalope, the only supernatural bar in Phoenix worth visiting. Even with the glamor gone from my vision, it wasn’t much to look at—black walls, sealed windows, only a single story tall, with a neon sign with its name and mascot. There was even a warning posted on the door to ward off trouble and trespassers. It was considered the seedy bar for supernaturals in Arizona, the place to go to get drunk and do something stupid. No self-respecting supernatural would come here, nor would they let anyone they were responsible for come near it.
Carter pulled up to the front door and smiled at me.
“It’s good to have you back, Kaliya. Call me sometime, and we’ll go have drinks at my place. It’s a lot nicer than The Jackalope.”
I made a face. “Your place sucks. Literally. I’ll see you soon, though. That’s a promise.”
He didn’t stop laughing as I got out, pulled my bag from the trunk, and slammed it shut. I knocked on his car with my knuckles to let him know I was done, and he hit the gas, screaming down the street and going back to his own Friday night destination, probably the blood club that his nest ran.
Wasting no more time, I strolled into the bar, throwing my pack over my shoulder. I couldn’t go home if I didn’t get my keys from the owner, who knew me well enough to keep my car from getting towed while I was gone. He also kept it from getting broken into. The amount of favors Paden and I owed each other was uncountable, so we’d stopped trying years ago. We had a set of rules we followed, and one of those was I could leave my car at the Jackalope for any reason at any time, give him the keys, and leave with the expectation everything would be fine when I got back. He never failed me.
“Hey, look who’s back!”
I waved silently at the bartender, not stopping for chit chat. Glenn was cool, but I was just trying to get home. I couldn’t get caught up in a round of drinks, not upstairs.