Taking The Night (Nightshade series Book 1)

by J F Posthumus

The Sandman met her on the sidewalk, not bothering with scooting across the seat. He nodded to the uniformed man and handed him a fifty with a smile. The doorman took the hint and returned to his post with a wink and nod. Selia flashed the Sandman an amused smile.

  Together, they stepped into the opulent foyer of the Grand Hotel. A simple, yet exceedingly apt name, Selia decided. A wide staircase with lush, thick gray carpet and black banisters rose to a landing, where on each side, sweeping, curved flights of stairs led to the floor above them. Several chandeliers hung from the ceiling and there was an opulence that would have ensnared any newcomer.

  Selia, however, didn’t allow herself to stare. She did take it all in, silently admiring the beauty of it all as the Sandman led her to a pair of double doors off to the side. ‘Sal’s Place’ was written in script across the glass window and Selia smiled slightly. It was one of Soren’s personal businesses and no Family members were hired here.

  They sat at the bar on high, leather-covered bar stools and ordered drinks. She sipped through a straw, careful of her lipstick, even though she’d brought the tube for touch-ups. The other reason she didn’t drink much was she didn’t want to have to visit the restroom while waiting. Too many things could go wrong, and she didn’t want to take a chance.

  She and the Sandman sat in silence for about twenty minutes before he got up, tossed a twenty on the counter, and offered her his arm. Shrugging minutely, she slid her arm through his, resting her hand lightly on his wrist. He escorted her to the main doors, where the doormen opened them without missing a beat or the Sandman having to pause in his steps.

  Outside was a black stretch-limo. The chauffeur standing in his signature black uniform and cap held the door open. Limos were something Selia was accustomed to, so she stepped in and slid across the seat. The Sandman slid in beside her and she smiled at him, not saying a word. The door closed and she scooted closer to him.

  Selia had to admit to herself, there were plenty of ideas that came to mind, if circumstances had been different. There were many ways of enjoying a ride around the city in a limo with a handsome man. Her smile and sidelong gaze must have given away her thoughts because that mischievous twinkle reappeared in the Sandman’s eyes and he smirked at her, draping an arm around her shoulders, and pulling her closer.

  Inhaling deeply, she forced herself to turn her gaze away from him, and instead looked out the window as they passed through the city. Part of her wondered how this man could afford all this. Limos weren’t cheap, nor were the clothes she wore or the makeup at his lair. The rest of her wondered what he really looked like. It had been way too long since she had been attracted to anyone and her body was making up for missed time.

  In an attempt to distract herself, she searched the sidewalks and road for Family members, both Lascari and Vaschetti. Though, if she were honest, she didn’t know as many Vaschetti members as she did Lascari.

  Sure, she knew those in charge of each layer of the hierarchy in the Vaschetti Family, but she didn’t know every made man or enforcer. There were far too many involved in the day-to-day businesses for Selia to memorize. She knew the captains by description only and had seen the underbosses only a handful of times. Lucien, she had met once and once had been more than enough for her. The man was downright creepy.

  Of course, even in her Family, she only knew all the underbosses, Al’s advisor, a couple captains, and the two main enforcers. She knew the bodyguards the underbosses and captains used, and all the secretaries and assistants that came with them to the monthly meetings. The only place she knew everyone on a more personal basis was Soren’s office where she worked.

  She’d managed to spot a dozen people she knew from the Lascari family and two from the Vaschettis when the limo stopped outside a brick building that rose high into the sky. Far above them was Al’s penthouse.

  A doorman opened the limo’s door and the Sandman slid out, offering his hand to her. She took it as she stepped onto the sidewalk, small red purse in hand. Not giving the doorman a second glance, she let the Sandman lead her into the building; a king with his queen. Or to be more accurate to the roles they were playing: a pimp and his woman. Inside there were a handful more of Al’s people, keeping a watch on who entered and exited.

  They received a few glances, or rather she did, but no one stopped them. They weren’t even stopped when they went past the reception desk and strode straight for the elevator to the penthouse. The Sandman reached into a pocket and produced what looked like a credit card and Selia nearly laughed. Somehow, he had managed to procure the pass card for the penthouse elevator! No wonder he said it would be easy!

  Resisting the urge to shake her head, she instead gave him a bright smile and stepped into the elevator next to him, a genuine smile on her lips. The door closed and she let out a soft laugh.

  “That explains much,” she murmured softly, barely a whisper.

  “Indeed,” he replied in an equally soft voice.

  They remained silent as the elevator finished the climb and opened into a small foyer of the penthouse. The foyer opened into short hallway, which led into the main living room with a gorgeous view of the city. She took note of the emergency exit to her right, in case she had need of it later.

  The last time Selia had been to this penthouse, she’d been with Soren. She had gone to the floor-to-ceiling windows and stared at the view of the city below them. Considering they were on the ninetieth floor, the penthouse held a pretty spectacular view. This time, Selia studied the man standing at the windows staring out across the city. One hand was in a pocket of his dress pants while the other held a whiskey tumbler.

  She held the Sandman back against the other side of the door frame while she gathered her courage together. Angelo Lascari was a broad-shouldered, finely dressed man with classic Italian features, though those features weren’t looking at her now. His hair was as black as a raven’s wing and cut in a neat, timeless fashion. She suspected he dyed it, but she’d never asked anyone, nor spoken that suspicion aloud. Close to six-feet tall, her uncle cut a striking figure.

  Letting out a breath of air, she stepped into the room and into the sight of Al’s pair of bodyguards. The living room was lavish, with plush sofas, chairs, glass tables and a baby grand tucked away in a corner. A huge fireplace was against the left wall surrounded by sofas and a coffee table, while there was a wide-screen TV, larger than her sixty-two-inch at her apartment, on the right wall. She ignored all of the luxury, focusing solely on Al.

  “Stop right there,” one bodyguard said, and Selia didn’t have to look to know he’d drawn his gun.

  Selia stopped and felt the Sandman pause directly behind her. In that bright, smooth salesman pitch, the Sandman said, “Hey, man, I’m just here with the pretty lady.”

  Al turned around, his eyes narrowing. “What the hell is this?”

  His voice, typically a low dulcet that could make nuns swoon and coax even the hardest person into agreeing with him, was now hard and cold. It was enough to make Selia shiver as though an ice storm had swept across the room. His dark eyes glared at Selia and her ‘date’.

  Al’s voice dropped a few degrees more as he crossed the room. “I didn’t order this.”

  Selia stood her ground, neither turning towards the goons or the Sandman, nor cowering before the don looming in front of her. Instead, she lifted her chin ever so slightly and allowed her Temerian accent to come out as she spoke in fluent Italian.

  “Would you turn away the daughter of the night?”

  The soft lilting accent of Temeria and the Italian language made for a strange combination. She willingly took the chance, and it must have worked because Al’s demeanor swiftly changed and instead of glowering at her, he was examining every feature of her face with a hard intentness. She offered a smile with only the corners of her lips as she met his cold, black eyes.

  “I know that face. You’re not usually dolled up this much, but I recognize your face,” he finally said, taking a step back. Seli
a could hear the men lowering their weapons, though they didn’t put them away. “I liked you better as a brunette.” It was all Selia could do to keep from rolling her eyes. She was saved from embarrassing herself by Al speaking again. “Who’s your friend?”

  “Oh, him?” She finally glanced over her shoulder at the Sandman who had his hands up, even with his face and palms outward. “Some actor I hired from a talent agency specializing in celebrity lookalikes. I don’t know who he’s supposed to be, but he was cute and got me past the girl downstairs. Batted his pretty green eyes at her and she didn’t ask a question.” She grinned and turned back to Al. “He’s a cheap date and easy on the eyes.”

  Al snorted and waved away the guns. The goons slid their weapons into their holsters grudgingly. The Sandman slowly lowered his hands and shoved them into his pockets. He was the very epitome of a man obviously out of his element and fearful of having guns pointed at him.

  “I’ll have to speak with that girl, and the boys who let you by. It shouldn’t be that easy for anyone to get up here,” Al grumbled. He pulled Selia forward, draped an arm around her shoulders, and started walking her towards the hallway to their left. “Come along, dear, and we’ll talk in private.” He paused before adding, “Your ‘date’ will be safe as long as he doesn’t leave the room or bother anything.”

  Selia smiled up at her uncle, showing the relief she felt.

  “Thank you,” she murmured as he led her down a hallway and into the master bedroom.

  Once the door was shut, she dropped all pretenses and her forced-upon smile. Before she could say a word, though, Al pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. Surprised, stunned, and delighted, she returned the embrace. Selia hadn’t even noticed him putting down his glass. Missing things like that could kill her, but at least it had been with someone she sort of trusted.

  “Child, you worry Soren, which worries me,” he finally said, breaking the hold. He held her at arm’s length. “Soren called me and told me you took him to the hospital. That’s fast thinking for a dame. It’s more than what most women could or would do.”

  He gave her arms a squeeze before walking away from her and opening up a briefcase. Pulling out a stack of money, he turned back to her. “Use this for whatever you need.”

  She took the stack, only to discover it was three thick stacks held together by a rubber band. Looking up, she found Al holding out a small wallet. She took it and flipped it open. Inside it was a gas card, another fake id, and his business card. Sitting on the edge of the queen-sized bed, she tucked the money and wallet into her purse. A phone fell into it as she moved her hands, ready to snap it shut.

  Looking up, she found Al towering above her. “Use that phone. It’s a burner so it’ll be safer than your cell. Soren has that number, if he needs to contact you. I’ll let him know you’re safe.” He held out a small white business card with only an address on it, a set of car keys, and another set of keys that looked distinctly like house keys. “There’s a rental car waiting for you. Go to this address. It’s a bungalow outside town. The place is a safe house and is fully stocked with food. Stay there and keep low.”

  “All right, Uncle,” Selia said slowly as she stood and took the proffered items. She asked hesitantly, “Soren will be okay?”

  A small smile played across Al’s face and his eyes softened. “He’ll be fine. The doctors thought he had a broken jaw, but the x-rays were obviously wrong. It took a while, but he finally started responding to the medications and is in better shape than they expected, considering the short amount of time he’s been there.” Amusement filled his features, making him look about ten years younger and far more approachable. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

  “Me, Uncle? What could I have done?” she asked innocently.

  Other than Soren and the Sandman, Al was the only other person who knew her heritage, though he wasn’t aware of her magical abilities.

  Al chuckled and patted her on the cheek. “Keep your secrets close, girl, but keep your enemies closer.”

  It was an old saying and she knew Al approved of what she’d done. He and Soren were close and there was no threat of Soren ever trying to usurp Al’s position. In fact, Soren had countered several attempted coups in the past. A few had been ones she’d learned about and had informed Soren about. She didn’t know how much Soren had told Al, but it was enough for Al to want to take care of her. There just was no way she’d ever tell Al as much as she’d told Soren, or even the Sandman.

  “I’ll be safe,” Selia assured him. “I promise.”

  “Yeah, you will be,” Al said, opening the door for her. “Don’t play around with that toy of yours. The sooner you get to that place, the better.”

  “Yes, Uncle,” she murmured, trying to not smile and failing only a little.

  Al led her back to the living room, where the Sandman was sitting in a chair, hunched forward, hands clasped in the perfect example of a nervous man. He leapt to his feet the moment he saw her enter the room.

  “Time to be going, John,” Selia said smoothly, coming up with a fake name for her companion. She kissed Al on both his cheeks, and Al chuckled softly.

  John, aka The Sandman, nodded quickly and met her at the doorway to the elevator. Al followed them. Selia and the Sandman remained silent, though Selia was smiling whereas the Sandman was not, as they stepped into the elevator.

  Al gave her a final nod as he leaned in and hit the ground floor button. The doors closed and the elevator began its descent. Selia gave a subtle wave of her hand and magic filled the elevator around them. A simple glamour for her to do what she needed quickly without fear of a camera recording her.

  “Al gave me a rental car, phone, and cash along with the keys to a bungalow on the outside of the city. I’m to stay there and keep low. He also told me to keep out of this business.”

  She didn’t take too much time to repeat everything Al said. The Sandman only needed the basics since he already knew about Soren. Pulling out the money, she tugged one thick stack of cash free from the rubber band and handed it to the Sandman, who was staring at her with a deep frown on his face.

  “Don’t worry, I glamoured us so the camera won’t see or hear anything, but it won’t last long,” she assured him. “I need you to get me more clothes. You have good taste and know what looks good on me. I trust you.”

  “You shouldn’t use your magic, Selia,” the Sandman chided her.

  “And if they’re watching us? Do you think either of us would get out of this building alive?” she argued. “Keep whatever is left over.”

  “Fair enough,” he replied, taking the stack and sliding it into the inside pocket of his jacket. “I won’t mind spending blood money on a beautiful woman.”

  Selia felt her cheeks growing warm, even as the magic faded away and the elevator doors opened. Together they walked to the small parking lot to the side of the building. She paused in front of the car listed on the key fob Al had given her.

  “A shame about the bungalow.” She sighed. “Talk about a waste of money.”

  The Sandman placed a hand over hers, which was turning the key in the lock. “No, you have to show up there. They’ll be watching you, and if you don’t show up, one of two things will happen. Al will start a full-blown search for you. Or you’ll be declared ‘rogue’. Or possibly even both. I don’t want to see you getting hurt or being on the outs with your family.”

  Selia smiled and leaned towards the Sandman. “Fine, I’ll go to the bungalow, but I’m not staying there.” She paused. “Keep my laptop safe.”

  “I’ll pick you up an hour after darkness sets,” he assured her. “Your bag will be safe.”

  An impish twinkle brightened her eyes as she leaned forward and kissed him. It wasn’t a chaste, quick peck on the lips, either. The Sandman stiffened slightly in surprise before relaxing and returning the kiss, though he didn’t lean into it. She felt his left hand lightly grasp her hip, even as she stepped closer, allowin
g the kiss to deepen.

  Oh, gods, did she want more!

  The thought snapped her eyes open and she slowly, reluctantly, broke the kiss. Her heart was pounding, and her pulse raced. She stared at him, lips parted, slightly swollen, and curved upwards into a soft smile. Blinking a few times, she finally lowered her lashes as she saw more than just mild interest shining back at her. He desired her, if that flicker of heat was any indication, and she definitely desired him, but this was not the time or place.

  “I, um, guess I should be going,” she finally said, trying to wrestle control of her floundering emotions. Inborn caution and wariness warred with desire, and so far, the desire was winning the battle. In a whisper, she added, “I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Indeed, lady,” he murmured, opening the door for her. “Hopefully, if he,” his eyes shot upwards towards the penthouse, “catches wind of that kiss, he won’t place extra guards on you.”

  Selia shook her head, the smile not wavering. “Don’t worry about me, ‘John.’ I have a good reputation of not having lovers or boyfriends. At least, none that stick around for more than a date and goodbye kiss.” Her face flushed at that acknowledgement of her inexperience, and she ducked into the car as the Sandman chuckled softly above her.

  “Drive safe,” he said. Just before the door shut, he added in a smoldering voice that had her breath quickening again, “You don’t have to be dressed when I get there.”

  Chapter Ten

  H er breathing had finally begun to quiet as she listened to the turn-by-turn instructions on the GPS in the car when the phone Al gave her rang. The destination had been an hour and a half away and she still had thirty-five minutes to go.

  Glancing at the number, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Hello, Uncle.”

  “I hope you didn’t give him the address,” he said without preamble. “I’d hate for anything to happen to him.”

  “Oh, please, Uncle,” Selia snapped. “I’m not that naïve. Everyone knows I don’t have any boyfriends and you do not want to know how long it’s been since I’ve kissed a guy. He was cute and I wanted a good memory after everything that’s been happening.”