Demon Disgrace (Resurrection Chronicles Book 8) Read online

  While she instructed him, I resumed my relaxed recline and let my world continue to drift. The sherry was gone, and the buzz from it was starting to fade. But I wasn’t worried. It was almost dark, and people would start showing up soon enough.

  “Hannah, come join us,” Emily called.

  “No, thank you. I’m not hungry for dogloaf.”

  “Good, because that’s just for Merdon. Get your butt over here and eat something, or I’m turning everyone away tonight.”

  Sitting up again, I narrowed my eyes at her then got up to help her set the table. Sometimes Emily’s mothering stifled me to the point I wanted to tell her to lay off. In the end, I could never bring myself to say the words. She put up with a lot from me. Putting up with a little from her was the least I could do.

  “Mary said you should come over tomorrow,” Emily said, placing the dogloaf on the table. “She said she has something special set aside for you.”

  I hoped “special” was code for aged Cognac. She and James had gifted me with a nice bottle once before. That stuff had kicked my ass hard.

  “I’ll try to stop by tomorrow,” I said, not committing.

  Emily pulled something else from the oven. Wrapped in foil, the food was a mystery until she removed the covering and revealed a stir fry looking jumble of veggies and chicken.

  “You’re welcome to try this, too, Merdon,” she said, “But I know most of you don’t enjoy your veggies.”

  She took the seat nearest the kitchen and gestured to the chair to her right. Merdon sat and glanced at me. Suppressing my sigh, I sat across from Emily, to his right. Hopefully, the position would make it harder for him to stare at me throughout the meal.

  “This smells amazing,” Emily said, scooping a large portion of stir fry onto her plate. She was obviously hungry.

  “Here,” she said, handing the plate to Merdon. “Pass that to Hannah. Hannah, I’ll take your plate.”

  My stomach twisted as I stared at the mound of food. If I ate it all, I’d have no room for dessert of the liquid variety.

  Disgruntled, but knowing better than to argue, I surrendered my empty plate to Merdon in exchange for the full one.

  Emily did her typical hostess shtick where she made conversation.

  “What’s it like outside the wall today? I haven’t heard a single moan,” she said to Merdon.

  I zoned out and focused on the food.

  Methodically, I chewed, swallowed, and scooped up some more, working my way around the plate and shrinking the pile. I didn’t taste the meal. Food had lost its flavor long ago. When I’d eaten at least half, I pushed my plate away.

  “I can’t eat more. If I do, I’ll throw up.”

  “Hannah—”

  “I’m serious, Emily. That was a lot. Big meals are a relic from before the quakes. My stomach can’t handle all of that at once. I’ll save what’s left for later.”

  She glanced at my plate then at Merdon’s. The dogloaf pan was empty, and his plate was clean.

  My stomach gave a threatening heave.

  “I’m not a starving fey, so don’t even try to compare us,” I said in annoyance.

  The first knock of the night echoed on the front door, and I sprang up to answer it.

  Behind me, Emily explained to Merdon that we were having a get-together to remember the people who’d died. Then, she invited him to stay.

  I rolled my eyes. Of course she’d invite him; he hadn’t been following her around all morning.

  Fyllo smiled at me from outside and held up another bottle of sherry.

  “I had more,” he said.

  “That’s great! Come on in. Just set the bottle on the counter.”

  As interested as I was in another drink, I knew there’d be better options.

  Behind him, more fey emerged from the dark. A good number of them carried bottles. I chose not to notice how many held some kind of dish. Leaving the door open, I selected one of the mellower vinyls from our collection and went to the turntable. In no time, smooth music filled the air.

  While Emily welcomed guests, I began pouring drinks in the kitchen. Generally, the fey didn’t care for the burn of alcohol, which meant more liquor for those who did like to drink it.

  Greedily eyeing the few extra inches of alcohol that I’d given myself, I lifted my cup to my lips and took a large swallow. It didn’t burn on the way down, but it did warm my stomach. The mellowness I needed would soon follow, and I settled a hip against the counter to patiently wait for it.

  As I drank some more, I looked around the room. Fey outnumbered the few human females brave enough to attend. No surprise there. Of the human survivors, fewer than half were females. And fewer than half of those lived in our fey-friendly community of Tolerance. Emily had done her job well, though, and there were new female faces in the crowd. Most of them hung out around the food table, sampling what the fey had procured, as the fey tried to make conversation with them.

  I wondered how many of these new girls wished they hadn’t agreed to stay here after yesterday’s blood bath. Given they were alive and being fed, probably none of them. We lived in a “take what you can get” kind of world after all.

  I snorted into my cup and continued to look around.

  Green and gold eyes locked onto mine from across the room. Merdon was watching me again. I flashed him my bright smile since it always paid to be welcoming to the fey, no matter how annoying they were, then turned my back on him and tipped my glass.

  “Hannah,” Emily said, coming to me with a new girl in tow. “This is Cheri. She’s new here.”

  Someone caught Emily’s eye, or at least that’s what she pretended happened, and she excused herself. Pawning off guests was a skill Emily had probably perfected before the quakes. She was a social queen like that. After all, if she let one person monopolize her time, how would she ever get to talk to everyone?

  “Hi, Cheri,” I said brightly as I handed her a drink. “Sorry, I don’t remember seeing your face with the Whiteman people. Are you liking living in Tolerance so far?”

  She gave me a strained smile.

  “It’s an adjustment.”

  I gave a humorless laugh. “It’s the apocalypse. Of course it’s an adjustment.”

  “You’re right. Sorry. I shouldn’t complain.”

  “Nah. Complain away. I’m all ears.”

  She shot me a confused look, obviously trying to figure out if I was being sarcastic or sincere. I kept my Hannah-loves-everyone smile firmly in place and waited.

  “I appreciate the food and the safety. I really do. But the attention’s a little overwhelming. My roommate stands outside the bathroom door when I’m in there.” She flushed and glanced across the room at one of the fey.

  “Yeah, he’s probably picturing you naked. Or hoping you’ll walk out naked. Don’t overthink it. The fey are harmless. I promise. Drink up and relax.”

  She nodded, took the first sip of her drink, and coughed.

  “What is this?”

  I glanced at the bottles on the counter.

  “It’s either brandy or whiskey.”

  “Straight?”

  True humor lifted my lips.

  “The end of the world isn’t watered down; why should the drinks be?”

  She gave a tentative smile and lifted her cup to her lips again. I glanced across the room at Farco and winked. He flashed his teeth at me, knowing he’d be carrying his newly acquired roommate home. Oh, I had no concerns about Cheri’s safety. He’d carry her home, remove her shoes, and tuck her into bed like a good fey. They never took more than what was offered. It wasn’t their way. Just holding her in his arms would be enough for him.

  The fey hadn’t yet lost their hope. Not like I had.

  An ache started in my chest, and I drank deeply again, hating that feelings from the past kept trying to surface. It was time to drown them completely.

  “Who’s ready for some games?” I called over the soft music.

  While the fey hurriedly s
tarted rearranging the furniture, I locked my arm through Cheri’s and led her to the table.

  “The games are fun,” I said. “And a great way to get to know the fey. They love betting small things like holding your hand or touching your hair, in exchange for pretty much whatever you want.” I leaned in closer to her. “Just don’t bet kisses unless you’re willing to have another fey standing outside the bathroom door.”

  She gave me a worried look then nodded.

  The next hour passed in a blur of laughter and betting. Cheri couldn’t hold her liquor and ended up in Farco’s arms as I’d predicted. At the door, Emily gave him a stern talk to only remove Cheri’s shoes, stating that anything else without consent would ruin his chances with the girl. He looked down at the girl, complete adoration in his eyes, and I snorted softly. He wouldn’t have the balls to do anything that would jeopardize his chances with her. Come morning, not only would he likely apologize for touching her feet while she was passed out, but he’d also be running all over Tolerance to find her pain reliever for the bitch of a headache she’d have. If she was smart, she’d realize she had the key to whatever she wants.

  I turned and almost ran into a fey.

  “Sorry,” I said, lifting my head to offer a smile.

  Merdon looked down at me, his expression inscrutable.

  “Are you having a good time?” I asked, trying to be pleasant while also attempting to recall if he’d joined the games.

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he breathed in deeply, his nostrils flaring slightly before his gaze flicked to the cup I held. My smile slipped a little at the feeling I was being judged.

  “If you need anything, let Emily know,” I said, stepping around him.

  In the kitchen, the dregs of the brandy went into my glass, and I turned the remaining bottles so all the labels were facing forward. The fey had done their jobs well and supplied enough alcohol to last a while. They were also providing a nice distraction.

  Rejoining the games, I bet a walk around Tolerance (with hand-holding) against a container of “just add water” waffle mix, a package of breakfast sausages, and a canister of dried eggs. Emily rooted for me as I let the quarter roll off my nose into the cup, knocked back the contents, then slammed the empty cup on the table. I grinned as the fey’s cup hit the surface a second later than mine. They might have mad skills at running and killing shit, but they couldn’t stand the burn of liquor.

  “We’re eating a real breakfast tomorrow,” Emily crowed.

  I laughed and moved out of the way so the next person could bet. My limbs and face felt pleasantly numb as the room tilted and wobbled around me.

  A hand wrapped around my upper arm.

  “You look unsteady.”

  Tipping my head back with my smile still lingering on my lips, I met Merdon’s gaze.

  “I’ve never been steadier. Would you like something to drink?”

  He didn’t answer.

  Rolling my eyes, I tugged my arm from his hold.

  “Suit yourself.”

  I shuffled to the kitchen and looked at my pretty line up of bottles.

  “Tempting little hussies,” I whispered to them then giggled.

  Taking the open one, I sloshed some of the contents into my cup. A hand reached around me and plucked the bottle from my grasp before I was finished.

  “Hey.”

  “You’ve had enough.”

  Bleary-eyed, I squinted at Merdon.

  “Is my speech impaired?”

  “No.”

  I touched my finger to my nose.

  “Did I miss my nose when trying to touch it?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Exactly,” I said. “I’m fine. Please focus your attention elsewhere for the evening unless you want to bet something at the table.”

  His gaze flicked from my face to the bottle he held. Instead of taking up my challenge, he set the booze on the counter and walked away.

  “That’s what I thought,” I mumbled.

  Fluffing my hair and noting my steady hand, I grinned and rejoined the games.

  Chapter Two

  The need to pee forced me from bed around dawn. Disoriented and still tipsy, I shuffled toward my adjoining bathroom and landed my bare ass half off the toilet seat. My bladder refused to wait for an adjustment in position, but thankfully, I heard the splashdown a second later and knew I wouldn’t be scrubbing the floor.

  I closed my eyes and drifted in a pleasant haze while recalling the night before. Snippets of betting and drinking floated in my mind along with the memory of winning some good food. Food always made Emily happy. What made me happy were the bottles that still sat on the counter when I’d stumbled to bed well after midnight.

  I vaguely recalled a new bottle of something that had tempted me. I might have taken a little sample of it before I went back to bed. I couldn’t remember.

  After quickly washing, I left my bedroom. My steps weren’t quite steady, but the carpeted stairs didn’t make a sound under my feet as I clung to the railing. It was a good thing because Emily was a light sleeper, and I didn’t want to be caught going down to look at our haul. Well, my haul.

  The light above the sink guided me to the tidy kitchen. All evidence of a party was gone, including the bottles.

  Confused, I spun in a slow circle. My eyes had to be seeing things wrong, or maybe I was drunker than I’d thought. The alcohol couldn’t be gone. There had been at least seven bottles sitting right there when I’d gone to bed. I squinted at the counter for a moment then smiled.

  Emily had probably put them away. She was always cleaning up like that.

  Trying to be as quiet as possible, I opened the cupboard above the stove and peered into the inky emptiness. Undeterred, I continued searching until every single door in the kitchen gaped open. There wasn’t a single bottle of liquor in any of them.

  Gripping the counter to stay upright, I struggled to cope with what this meant. There would be no escape from the pain and memories once I sobered. If I sobered—

  I heard a muted rustle behind me and froze. How many times had I been in this situation since the quakes? Hearing something and knowing what was coming for me? After all, that whisper of noise was usually the only indication a person had before becoming infected.

  I should have been afraid. But I wasn’t. The only thing I felt was tired…of everything.

  Pivoting to face the living room, I peered into the gloom and watched a form slowly sit up on the couch. It didn’t do anything more than that, though, which was unusual. Infected typically ran at their next meal.

  I flicked on the light and felt like I’d been gut-punched when Merdon blinked back at me.

  “What are you doing?” I whispered harshly.

  “I was sleeping. What are you doing in the kitchen, Hannah?”

  “Shh. Why are you sleeping on our couch? Go sleep on your own.”

  “I have no couch. Or home. That is why Emily told me to sleep here.”

  I almost swore. Emily’s soft heart was going to screw us over. Just like a person should never feed a gremlin after midnight, a smart human never invited a fey to sleep over. The grey men tended not to want to leave. No way I wanted to be stuck with a stray fey.

  Instead of cursing, I pasted on a smile and moved to the front door.

  “I’m glad you were able to stay warm while you slept. I’ll ask around to see if someone has an open couch for you tonight.”

  I opened the door and waited, expectantly. He didn’t stand up to leave like a normal person would have. Annoyingly, he just stared at me. I held my ground, letting my toes go cold. It didn’t take long for the furnace to kick on.

  “This is where you leave, Merdon,” I said finally.

  Fey didn’t always understand human subtleties.

  He rose from the couch, unfolding to an impressive height, and prowled toward me. Dawn’s pink light painted his grey skin, making him appear almost human if not for the pointed ears and freakishly yellowed eyes.


  He stopped before me, towering over my diminutive height.

  “I’m not impressed,” I said. “But I am cold. Could you just leave already?”

  He tilted his head, studying me.

  “You are very used to getting what you want.”

  I snorted.

  “If that were true, I would have a drink in my hand right now.”

  I didn’t let myself think of what I really wanted.

  “You drink too much.”

  Anger spiked up, and I grabbed his bicep to turn him toward the exit. Unfortunately, a human couldn’t move a fey unless the fey wanted to move, and this one was being stubborn.

  “Stopping that infected from killing me doesn’t mean you own me or have a right to tell me what I should or shouldn’t be doing. You’ve overstayed your welcome. It’s time to leave.” I gestured to the snow-covered outdoors. “If you find any of that fun stuff you think I drink too much of, you’re welcome to come back. Until then, don’t.”

  He blinked at me, and for a brief moment, I thought he’d say something judgmental again. Fortunately, Merdon had some sense and left.

  I shook my head and closed the door. The fey were so predictable, trying to boss a girl around in hopes of establishing some kind of claim. Luckily, I wasn’t dumb enough to fall for that bullshit.

  My righteousness only lasted a few seconds before I realized I had bigger issues. Where was I going to find more alcohol? I’d been careful with the parties that Emily and I threw. If I instigated too many, we would draw Mya’s attention. Or worse, I would tick off Emily.

  Exhaling resignedly, I gauged my level of buzz. There was still enough tingle in the tank to knock me out for a few more hours. I’d take it. Shuffling back the way I’d come, I crawled into bed and let the alcohol pull me under.

  It felt like I’d barely closed my eyes when Emily shook my shoulder.

  “What time is it?” I asked, struggling to swallow because of a severe case of dry mouth.

  “Past breakfast. Don’t worry, I saved you some. Come on. Get up. You said you’d visit Mary and James today.”

  I forced myself to sit up.

  “I’m awake.”