Fractured Souls by Ava Marie Salinger

22

Five minuteslater and Morgan’s mood had darkened considerably. The noise of a busy Friday night crowd washed over Cassius and him as they entered the vestibule leading to the bar. The stiff set of Cassius’s shoulders told Morgan the angel was already on his guard. Morgan frowned.

I can’t blame him.

The doorman’s face had hardened with recognition when they’d approached the front door of Occulta amidst thelow murmurs of the patrons loitering outside for a smoke. From the wary look in everyone’s eyes, it seemed most of the magical and supernatural community knew Cassius was in town. Even the few humans among them had appeared frightened when they’d recognized the dark-winged angel.

For a second, Morgan had thought the doorman would refuse them entry. The man had finally relented after an awkward pause.

“I don’t want no trouble,” he’d grumbled as he unclipped the red, velvet rope from the stanchions guarding the doorway.

Judging from the scent of Frankincense oozing from the guy, Morgan guessed he was a Level Four wizard.

“Neither do we,” Cassius had said calmly.

Something that looked a lot like fear had flashed in the magic user’s eyes. That was when Morgan had realized the truth.

Cassius’s recently revealed status as an Empyreal meant that anyone who would have openly challenged him in the past was now too scared to do so.

The fact that this did little to please Cassius didn’t surprise Morgan. Cassius wasn’t the kind of man who would take pleasure in his superior strength and his quasi-God-like status. If that had been the case, he would have declared his rank centuries ago and exerted his powers for his own benefit. There was one simple truth Morgan had learned after knowing the dark-winged angel for two days.

He just wanted to be left alone.

Irritation swirled through Morgan all over again. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to show the degree of tolerance and mercy Cassius displayed toward those who ostracized and openly insulted him.

He really is a saint.

Morgan looked around curiously as they slipped through the throng of people occupying the first floor of the bar. Though he’d been in the city for a good ten years, he wasn’t heavily into its night scene. When he did choose to go out, he liked to patronize the stylish jazz clubs in the Theater District, where he could enjoy a leisurely drink and intelligent conversation. It was where he picked up most of his lovers.

The interior of Occulta delivered on its promise and more. The false, vaulted ceiling with its exposed metal beams gave the bar an open, airy look, while the Victorian gas lamps and chandeliers cast a muted light that projected an intimate feel. Black and red leather booths complemented the hardwood floor and the walnut tables and chairs opposite the bar. The walls were exposed brickwork alternating with rich wallpaper and wood paneling, all of them dotted with an eclectic collection of iron signs and period posters that completed the steampunk feel of the place.

Despite the number of magic users and otherworldly beings mingling with the humans crowding the place, the atmosphere didn’t reek of their scents. Whoever owned Occulta was using a powerful air-purifying spell to keep the smell of the bar’s preternatural patrons under control.

They were halfway to the counter when the hubbub died down noticeably. Morgan clenched his jaw as he and Cassius became the focus of scores of leery stares. The noise of the crowd resumed once more, an added note of urgency underscoring it.

A pretty woman with pink and white hair observed them steadily when they came up to her. She was one of three barkeeps manning the main drinks counter.

“What will it be, gentlemen?”

“Whiskey on the rocks,” Morgan said.

“Same,” Cassius murmured.

She took their payment, brought their drinks over with practiced ease, and leaned over the counter.

“Don’t mind these assholes.” She cocked her head at the suspicious gazes being directed at them. “Their bark is worse than their bite. And they don’t know a good thing when they see it.”

Cassius blinked. “Hmm, thanks. I think.”

The woman smiled. “You’re even more handsome than my mom said you were.”

Cassius stared. Recognition dawned on his face.

“Are you related to Stephanie Keller?” he asked, surprised.

Morgan glanced between the woman and the angel, a puzzled frown wrinkling his brow. “Who’s Stephanie Keller?”

“She was one of the witches who helped take down Tania Lancaster,” Cassius murmured, troubled.

Alarm darted through Morgan. The woman grimaced at their expressions.

“Mom has early Alzheimer’s. She didn’t mean to spill the secrets she was meant to keep.” She shrugged. “If it’s any consolation, she only said she’d met you and that you’d saved her life. The Cabalista sorcerer who turned up when the secrecy spell broke agreed to let her be.”

Sadness oozed from Cassius. “Please give her my regards when you see her.”

“Will do. I’m Suzanne Myers, by the way. You can call me Suzie.”

She offered her hand to Cassius. Cassius grasped it and paused for an instant.

A faint smile curved his lips as he slowly shook the woman’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Suzie.”

Suzie’s eyes twinkled with admiration. “You really are as good as mom said you are.”

Morgan stared, conscious something had just passed between the two but uncertain what it was.

Something drew Suzie’s attention. “I think your friends are calling you.”

She pointed past their shoulders. Morgan and Cassius turned.

“Yoohoo!” Adrianne shouted, waving a hand wildly from where she occupied a circular booth with Julia and two other women.

The Terrene angel moved her cocktail glass deftly out of the sorceress’s way.

Morgan was wearing a scowl by the time they made it to their table. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“It’s girls’ night out,” Adrianne said with an unrepentant grin, scooting over to make space. “We thought we could kill two birds with one stone and check out this place for hot, shady people.”

Julia shrugged at Morgan’s accusing stare as he slipped onto the leather-upholstered seating with Cassius. “It was her idea, not mine.” She introduced Cassius to the woman beside her. “This is Maggie Briggs, head of forensics at Argonaut.”

The brunette dipped her chin, her intelligent stare swinging between Morgan and Cassius.

Julia indicated the redhead next to Maggie. “And this is Lucy Walters, Argonaut’s senior medical mage.”

A saccharine smile stretched Lucy’s mouth as she studied Morgan and Cassius for a moment.

“So, he’s your type, huh?” she asked Morgan, indicating Cassius with a tip of her glass. “I can’t say I blame you. I would lick that guy like a lollipop if I had the chance.”

Cassius choked on his whiskey.

Morgan patted the coughing angel on the back and rolled his eyes hard.

Julia arched an eyebrow at Lucy. “I thought you and Don Quixote were still doing the dirty?”

“Do I even want to know who Don Quixote is?” Morgan groaned.

“Donnie Mancha,” Adrianne said. “He’s a fireman Lucy hooked up with at a karaoke bar a month ago. That guy is hung like a horse.”

Morgan grimaced. Cassius took a large gulp of his whiskey.

“Alas, Donnie and I parted ways a while back.” Lucy shrugged. “He was interested in exploring parts of my plumbing I wasn’t so keen on having explored with his, er, horse-like ding dong.” She paused. “He would definitely lick Cassius like a lollipop.”

“Jesus,” Cassius muttered under his breath.

Morgan studied Julia’s garish Hawaiian shirt. “Adrianne picked that out for you?”

“Yeah,” Julia said. “She found it in a thrift store.”

Morgan clocked the interested stares half the male clientele and many of the women in the bar were directing at the Terrene angel. “I don’t think it’s working.”

Julia smiled faintly. “I know.”

“It’s a good thing we’re friends,” Adrianne grumbled, stirring her drink viciously with her straw. “I haven’t had sex in months thanks to you.”

“What are they talking about?” Cassius muttered to Morgan.

“It’s a long story,” Morgan replied, taking a sip of his whiskey. “One we should only hear after more drinks.”

“You’ve gone out several times without me and still not pulled,” Julia pointed out to Adrianne. “I actually think you don’t want to hook up with anyone.”

Lucy and Maggie nodded wisely.

Adrianne bristled. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I reckon someone still has feelings for a certain wizard,” Julia said.

“Yeah,” Maggie murmured.

“Yup,” Lucy said. A grin curved the mage’s mouth as she looked past Adrianne’s shoulder. “Speak of the devil.”

Julia stared. “Oh. The whole gang is here.”

Adrianne stiffened when she turned and saw the men who’d just entered the bar.

A nervous-looking Charlie stuck close to Bailey at the head of the group. Zach trailed behind them, the demon acknowledging several acquaintances with nods and smiles.

“What the hell is he doing here?” the sorceress muttered, glaring at Bailey.

“That should be obvious.” Julia sipped her cocktail and smiled. “He’s here to cockblock you.”