The 7th Circle

Hell is empty, and all the devils are here.

The noise is ear-splitting, as always. I drag a rag across the bar, clearing away shattered glass, spilled liquor, and a severed ear. The money, and whatever else I’ve been paid, goes with it. I gather up anything worth keeping before the rest gets swept down onto the shoes of the people waiting at the bar. The rag goes into the bucket at my feet.

Under one of the tables, a guy is curled in on himself, a gaping hole torn through the side of his head. Around him, shapeshifters, mages, seers, vampires, and God knows what else are packed into far too small a space. People come to the 7th Circle when they’ve got nothing left to lose, or when they’re looking for someone to devour. I count myself among the first group. Most of the time.

“Hey. You. Kid?”

A shifter named Edgar tosses a fistful of coins onto the bar. The smell of dirt and sweat clings to him like a cloud. He probably drowned his Spiritus in alcohol years ago. I grab the nearest glass, wipe off spit and grease on my pant leg, and pour.

Edgar smacks his lips, downs the drink in a couple of gulps, then slides the glass back.

“Another.”

I hold out my hand. He tosses me a few more bills. Once he’s got his refill, he leans closer.

“Listen. Ayden. You hear me? Come closer. Let’s talk.”

I stay still as his big, filthy hand starts groping at my arm.

“You’re a good-looking kid,” he slurs. “You know what? I’m a gold mine for someone like you. I pay well. And you don’t have to take it up the ass if you don’t want to. A blowjob’s enough. Or we go upstairs and you give an old man something to jerk off to. What do you say, kid? Don’t play shy. You’ve done this before.”

I cross my arms over my chest, bored and restless at the same time. When he keeps pawing at me, I grab an empty bottle and smash it into his face. Edgar stumbles back, startled more than hurt.

“Oh,” he says. “You want it rough? Fine by me. Come to daddy. Let’s settle this.”

His eyes light up with a predatory gleam as he steps toward me.

I barely get my fists up before Conor is between us. Wolf shifter or not, he’s built like a bear. Conor likes to fight; likes the pain, likes seeing it reflected in the eyes of whoever he’s breaking. He calls himself a bouncer, which gives a fair idea of what he does.

I catch a flash of his wolfish grin as he grabs Edgar and drives his forehead into Edgar’s nose. Blood sprays over both of them. Then Conor hurls him across the floor. The people nearby move aside, but hardly anyone turns their head.

In the corner, Jaymes glides down the stairs. He’s ghostly in his stillness, but irritation pulses off his thin frame. I raise my voice over the din.

“That’s enough.”

Conor lifts a hand in a vague gesture. Whether he plans to kill Edgar or throw him out makes no difference to me. He grabs Edgar by the hair, drags him across the filthy floor, and sends him flying out into the night like a falling star. Clumps of graying hair scatter across the floor as Conor slams the door shut.

He comes back to the bar and leans against the counter. He looks unfazed, but his wolf is right under the surface. I clap him on the shoulder and hand him a beer. Conor bites the cap off. He drains half the bottle in one pull and shakes his dark hair out of his face. Uncombed and tangled, it reaches halfway down his back.

Meera smiles at him from the other side of the bar. She’s a skilled seer, and one of the few regulars I actually like. Conor nods, then turns to me.

“Full moon tomorrow.”

His voice carries an echo of his Spiritus; dark, threatening.

“Ruadh got in touch. Don’t know what it’s about, but I have to show this time. Alpha’s orders. I won’t be gone long. A few hours. Want me to line up a replacement? Beorn can cover.”

“For me?” I ask with a crooked smile.

Conor hooks a hand around the back of my neck and pulls me closer.

“Who else?” he mutters, catching my lower lip between his teeth.

The taste of blood fills my mouth, but he doesn’t let go. I knot my fist in his hair and wind it around my hand. My tongue brushes his stubble; he licks the blood from my split lip.

The kiss breaks when Jaymes reaches the bar.

Dressed in simple white, he’s the picture of innocence, but everyone nearby averts their eyes and moves out of his way. His smoke-colored gaze flicks between me and Conor.

“Excuse me. Ayden, I need a moment of your time.”

Conor straightens, then gives me a light slap on the cheek.

“Later.”

I catch his wrist. For a moment, my temple rests against his palm before he disappears back into the crowd. Jaymes squeezes his eyes shut in something that looks like a parody of a migraine. I wait for him to speak, but he just stands there, motionless, wearing the same pained expression.

Meera waves at me. She snaps her fingers, and a green-shimmering flame dances between them. I nod at her.

“Still plenty of free time and not enough money?”

“Thanks, Ayden. With your talent for small talk, you might make a bartender someday.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” I say, filling her glass to the brim. “Care to accept my peace offering?”

“I don’t have much choice. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Seers can’t afford to be honest, you mean?”

She smooths the black dress over her chest.

“A seer needs food on the table too. Come visit me sometime, Ayden. I’ve got a pleasant lie waiting for you whenever you want it. Or a pleasant truth, if you dare open your mind to me. Are you afraid of what I’d see?”

“Terrified. I guard my secrets.”

Jaymes clears his throat. Meera winks at me and drifts off. I turn back to him. His eyes give off a strange indigo glow that drowns out their natural color. He must have drained someone of memories and personality not long ago.

“It’s too loud in here,” Jaymes says softly. “Unbearably loud.”

The blood vessels beneath his pale skin stand out, signs of being overloaded with impressions and events. I’ve seen Jaymes lose control. I have no desire to see it again.

“Want me to close up?”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, my friend. Not yet. Not now. I still have work tonight, others coming to make use of my services. But I’ve worked long and hard, and my strength isn’t what it once was. I need a brief respite.”

He rubs his temples. Bruises bloom beneath his thin fingertips. I know better than to touch him, so I keep my distance.

“What do you need, Jaymes?”

He shudders, as if my voice hurts him. The glow in his eyes sharpens, and I take a step back.

“I need to dull my senses. Give me a moment of your time,” he says again, and this time, I understand.

I keep my face neutral, even though I know he picks up on my fear. He’s never asked this of me before. I know exactly what he wants, and I don’t want to give it to him.

Jaymes’s expression softens. He lowers his voice to a whisper that reaches me despite the noise.

“My friend. All I ask is a few seconds. Ten heartbeats. No more. You won’t miss them. I’m nearing the end of my road, and I want to finish my work before I burn out. You have many long years ahead of you. What are ten heartbeats?”

“It’s not the time that worries me.”

Jaymes smiles gently. He’s slight and beautiful in his unassuming way, but right now he frightens me to the core.

“I’ll make it easy for you. Besides, I understand you appreciate a certain measure of pain.”

I say nothing. His smile turns into a quiet laugh.

“Even if you’ve learned to shield your thoughts from me, the wolf is an open book. Through him I’ve learned more about you than you realize. Come now. Surely you’re not troubled that I know your inclinations?”

“Jaymes. Everyone here knows what I want. That’s no secret. But I doubt I’ll like what you’re suggesting.”

He shrugs.

“My experience with pain is extremely limited. You’ll have to forgive my lack of clarity.”

“And yet you’re asking me to…”

“I’m giving you a choice,” he says gently. “Take it. Please. It will feel better if you offer it willingly.”

“For you?”

“Yes. And for you.”

I scan the room. Conor is nowhere to be seen.

“Fine. Ten heartbeats. Here?”

Jaymes shakes his head.

“That would likely be bad for business, my friend. And you’ll need rest afterward. We’ll go upstairs.”

“Someone has to mind the bar,” I say, grasping at the last straw.

“Trust me. I’ll see to the practical matters. Go ahead. I’ll follow in a moment. Don’t worry,” he adds softly. “I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

I head up the stairs to the private rooms above. The office isn’t ideal, but at least no one comes in here. I unlock the door and light the kerosene lamp. The smell stings my nose, or maybe it’s the sense of danger crawling up my spine.

While I wait, I gather the papers scattered across the desk into a single stack in the corner. A couple of pens and a penknife go into a drawer. I’m nervous. Not because Jaymes is about to take ten heartbeats from my life. I can spare them. Not even because of the pain, though it won’t be easy. What I don’t want is for Conor to find out. He’ll be furious, and the last thing I need is another conflict between him and Jaymes.

Restless, I trail my fingers over the desk. I’m torn between hoping someone will interrupt what’s about to happen and knowing it’s inevitable. Where the hell is he?

The thought barely finishes before the door opens. I half expect Conor, but it’s Jaymes who steps inside and closes the door behind him. Relief mixes with disappointment. Conor will punish me when he finds out, but that pain is something I choose. Something I demand of him, the same way he demands my submission.

Jaymes turns the key in the lock and looks at me with his strange, penetrating gaze. I straighten.

“Okay. You’re here. How do we do this?”

He considers for a moment, then nods toward the desk chair. My legs shake as I move around the desk and sink into it. In one motion, I pull my t-shirt over my head and let it fall to the floor. Jaymes studies me with something that might be pity.

“You don’t need to fear me. How many times must I prove that I’m your friend, Ayden?”

“What do you want me to do?” I ask, ignoring his attempt to soothe me.

“Be still. Close your eyes.”

“Do I have to?”

“No. But you won’t like what you see.”

I give a short laugh and do as he says. The darkness behind my eyelids offers no comfort. I hear Jaymes step closer, and panic surges.

“Tell me before. Jaymes. I need to know when…”

His hand covers my heart before I can finish.