Page 53 of Heart Over Heels

“You okay?” His hand landed on my arm. “You take a hit? You look pale.”

How could he tell?

My mouth opened, but the words knotted up, useless. I swallowed then croaked, “I’m fine. Just fell.” I forced myself to stand a little straighter and searched the floor, looking for familiar faces.

“Where are the boys?” I asked.

Mercer jerked his chin toward the vacant stage. “They’re in the dressing room. I can walk you.”

I frowned. “To the dressing room?” It was impossible to keep the incredulity out of my tone.

Mercer nodded, and I shook my head.

“I want to help.”

His eyes raked over me—assessing in a way that made my skin prickle. I followed his gaze. I was shiny under the emergency lights, nearly naked, and my hair was probably sticking out in every direction. Heat rose to my face as I tried in vain to smooth my curls.

Mercer reached out to catch an unruly strand and twine it neatly around the spiral of my horn.

The unexpected touch froze me, and him too, judging by the way his eyes widened when they met mine.

His throat bobbed, and he pulled back both hands at once like he’d touched fire. “I’d feel better if you sat this out. Colette and I are clearing the place and closing up. Not sure when the power’s coming back on.”

“It’s not.”

The statement preceded Beck emerging from the back hallway. After watching the club empty in a flood, it was jarring to see someone enter.His suit looked untouched and sharp as ever, and his yellow eyes blazed through the darkness. “Not tonight, anyway. The line’s been cut.”

Mercer’s head snapped toward him. “Cut? Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately.”

I didn’t question it. Didn’t doubt it either, because I’d seen the damage already done, and a part of me had known it was bound to escalate.

“Mazzy?” I asked, my voice thin.

Beck came to a stop before us, and his mouth pursed in a humorless smile. “He didn’t sign anything this time, but that would be my guess. I put in a call to the police. Not that they can do much.”

“More like won’t,” I muttered bitterly.

The truth hung heavy in the pause. The LVPD had been turning a blind eye for years, keeping their hands clean of the demon-angel mess. They ignored half the 9-1-1 calls that came from our side of town, letting trouble roll by and skipping patrols altogether.

Officially, they claimed we were better equipped to police ourselves. Unofficially, they wanted their city back and were likely hoping for an eventual case of mutually assured destruction.

“Mind if I have a look?” Mercer asked Beck.

Beck’s eyes narrowed. “You know much about severed power lines?”

Mercer hesitated, and his broad shoulders squared. “No, but?—”

“Look all you want, but don’t touch,” Beck cut him off. “If it’s live, you won’t be.”

Mercer gave a stiff nod.

Beck glanced at the club entrance behind us then sighed. “Coll?”

The hellhound whipped around with her head cocked to the summons.

“I’m sure we have complaints to address,” Beck told her.