Virginia Kantra - Forgotten Sea

He fit in with the surly locals and tattooed sea rats better than pretty Lara Rho and her upscale boyfriend ever could.

But he didn’t belong here. He belonged. The beer tasted suddenly flat in his mouth. He didn’t know where he belonged.

He set down his bottle. He didn’t want to drink alone tonight. And he didn’t want to drink with the company the Galaxy had to offer.

Careful not to flash his rol, he dropped a couple of bil s on the table and walked out.

Nobody fol owed.

Outside, the sky was stained with sunset and a chemical haze, orange, purple, gray. The day’s heat lingered, radiating from the crumbling asphalt, sparking off the broken glass. He headed instinctively for the water, free as a bird thanks to the coworker boyfriend with the ponytail, trying to figure out what to do with the rest of his evening.

Or maybe his life.

Beyond the jumbled rooftops at the end of the street, he could see the flat shimmer of the sea. He passed a homeless guy huddled in a doorway, clutching a bottle, watching the street with flat, dead eyes. Something wrong there. He kept his arms loose and at his sides as the pawn shops and tattoo parlors gave way to warehouses and razed lots.

His neck crawled. Al ey ahead. Empty. Good.

He lengthened his stride, taking note of blank windows and deserted doorways. Good place to get jumped, he thought, and angled to avoid the dirty white van blocking a side street.

He heard a thump. A grunt.

Not his problem, he reminded himself. None of his business.

A woman’s cry, sharp with anger and alarm.

Shit.

He circled the van, shot a quick look down the street.

And saw Lara Rho backed against the brick wal of an empty lot with a couple of rough guys circling her like dogs.

F o u r o f t h e m, J u s t i n c o u n t e d. Two o n L a r a, one big guy keeping the boyfriend occupied— Tie him up while they took her down, good strategy —one on the ground. Even odds, almost.

Unless they were armed, in which case things were going to get messy.

Justin didn’t know what he’d stumbled into. Robbery?

Rape? Drug deal gone wrong?

But nobody was waving a blade around. Yet. Or a gun.

He left his own knife in the sheath on his leg.

The big guy stopped dancing and bul ed under the boyfriend’s guard, catching him hard around the ribs, wrapping him in his arms. Goldilocks swal owed by the bear.

One of the thugs lunged at Lara. She grabbed his arm, using his weight against him, but the second one jumped in, grabbing her long hair, snapping back her head.

Justin surged forward, quick, control ed, two short jabs to the kidneys that should have dropped him. He jerked, releasing Lara, but he didn’t go down.

Justin checked, caught by a sense, a smel, fetid and somehow familiar. Like burning garbage.

Slowly, the thug turned, eyes flat in his dead face.

Fuck.

Justin hit him, palm of the heel up the nose, crunch , blood spraying everywhere. The smel y bastard stayed on his feet, pummeled Justin’s ribs, one, two, hard. Justin blocked the third blow, slammed the side of his foot on the bastard’s instep. Their legs tangled. They fel. Pain burst in Justin’s elbow, radiating up his arm. They scrambled, fighting for position. Stinky clawed at Justin’s face, gouging for his eyes. Justin slammed both forearms down to break his hold, bucked him up and over. Grabbing hair, he rapped the guy’s skul on the ground, hard enough to stun.

The thug, blood streaming from his broken nose, looked up into his eyes and smiled.

It creeped him out. Enough he didn’t fol ow through, and paid for it when the guy curled up. Head butt. The al ey exploded in pain and stars. They rol ed again, Justin on the bottom. He heard grunts, thumps, around them. Lara?

Stinky reared over him, bloody, smiling. Justin chopped up, striking his throat with the edge of his hand, crushing the windpipe. The guy gurgled, blank eyes bulging in his bloody mask of a face.

Drop, asshole.

He dropped.

Breathing hard, Justin shoved his body aside and staggered to his knees.

His gaze swept the scene for Lara, found her by the wal, bending over her attacker’s motionless body. Safe. The air around them wavered like heat rising from a jet engine.

Justin blinked. The shimmer didn’t go away. Shit. He must have hit his head harder than he thought.

He glanced over at the boyfriend, crawling out from under the big guy. Another one down. Okay. He breathed again, this time in relief, and bent down to press his fingers to the pulse under Stinky’s jaw. Stil beating. Good.

A hot breeze skittered down the al ey, swirling dust, raising another whiff from the man on the ground. Justin coughed.

Shuddered.

Rol ing the thug to his side so he wouldn’t drown in the blood from his windpipe, Justin rose shakily to his feet.

Lara leaned over her attacker, wiping his face. Not wiping, Justin amended. She had this little bottle in her hand and was making some kind of sign on his forehead. Her lips moved. Like she was giving him last rites or something.

The hair rose on the back of Justin’s neck. Shaking his head, he walked over.

“You okay?”

She moistened her lips. “Yes, I. ” Her eyes widened.

“Watch out!”

A scrape behind him.

He turned, too late.

The blow clipped the side of his skul and dropped him like a stone.

Horrified, Lara watched the bottle crack against Justin’s head. He col apsed in the grit of the al ey. The homeless man stepped over the body, a demon staring out of his eyes. He licked his lips. “You’re next, bitch.”

She was spent. Done. Drained of strength and magic.

“Go to Hel,” she said and flung her vial of holy water at its head.

The demon shrieked.

A splash of holy water wouldn’t stop the children of fire.

But it slowed this one down.

Gideon rushed over and flung himself on the thing’s back.

The possessed man staggered, clawing at Gideon’s hands around his throat.

Lara crawled to Justin, her arms and legs shaking, a sil y little prayer whistling under her breath. Oh no, oh please, oh God.

The demon crashed to its knees in the al ey, Gideon stil clinging grimly to its neck.

She tilted Justin’s head to open his airway, pressed her ear to his lips. A faint, warm vibration stirred her hair.

Relief leapt inside her.

Gideon lumbered to his feet. “Is he alive?”

“Yes.” She laid her hand along his jaw, reaching out with al her senses. Her power flickered. Sputtered. “Justin?

Justin. ”

Blearily, he opened his eyes. She peered anxiously at his pupils. In the shadow of the warehouse, she couldn’t tel if they were the same size or not.

“Can you hear me?” she asked.

His gaze fastened on her face with painful intensity. His cracked lips parted. His face was a mask of dirt and blood.

Her heart tripped. So much blood. The split in his scalp gaped like another mouth, red and open.

She scrambled on her hands and knees for her purse, lying in the weeds and litter.

“What are you doing?” Gideon demanded.

“He’s hurt. We need to apply pressure,” she explained, rummaging inside. “To stop the bleeding.”

“Unless his skul is fractured,” Gideon said. “Come on.

We don’t have time for first aid.”

“What about. ” Her gaze darted to the other figure on the ground. Their attacker.

For answer, Gideon turned the man over with his foot.

The one who had been possessed sprawled motionless, staring with empty eyes at the darkening sky.

She felt sick inside. The lost souls who had attacked them were victims, too.