Taking The Night (Nightshade series Book 1)

by J F Posthumus

  At some point he had pulled her into his lap, and she must have fallen asleep. The memory brought a smile back as she remembered the steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his arms as he held her close. The fact she fell asleep in his arms spoke volumes, at least to her, about how safe she felt around him.

  Come to think of it, it had taken her nearly a year before she’d allow herself to fall asleep anywhere near Soren. It was so odd seeing The Sandman in his outfit with a dish towel tossed over one shoulder and a spatula in one hand.

  “Ah, so the sleeping beauty awakens,” he teased, glancing at her over his shoulder. “Go grab a shower. I’ll keep the food warm.”

  “Do I look that bad?” she asked, not the least bit bothered.

  He raised his brows. “Go see for yourself.”

  Laughing, she did as he suggested. Her laughter grew as she stared at her reflection. Her hair was a tangled mess, half her lipstick was gone, and the rest of her makeup was horribly smudged. She was surprised he hadn’t laughed or given her a look of disgust. His appeal just jumped a few more notches.

  Using the makeup remover in the cabinets, she quickly washed her face. For a brief moment the horrified thought that Alex and Bernie had noticed her blond eyebrows crossed her mind. Her mind began to form a plausible explanation to give if they asked. Then she remembered their eyes never stayed on her face for more than a few seconds because they’d been far too distracted by her ‘guest’ and her supposed lack of clothing. Stepping into the shower, she decided that a hot shower would definitely make her feel a lot more refreshed.

  Twenty minutes later with one towel wrapped around her body and another covering her hair, she padded into the bedroom and pulled a slinky white summer dress from a hanger. Thin straps crisscrossed over her shoulders, and she smirked at the fact it had a built-in bra as she dressed. A pair of equally strappy sandals completed the picture. Satisfied, she brushed out her hair and let it fall in wet curls.

  When she went back into the kitchen, the Sandman was filling a plate with bacon, eggs, and sausages. A tall glass of juice and another of soda sat on the table. A nearly empty mug of coffee was near him on the counter.

  “Impressive,” she said as he turned towards her. “How is it no one has managed to snap you up? You’re handsome, charming, and can cook. You have impeccable taste in clothing and weaponry. I might be a bit naïve when it comes to dating and many things about men, but I do know those aren’t common traits.”

  “I don't socialize much,” he said with a shrug. “I married early to a controlling, mentally ill woman. After five years, there was no doubt that I would ever give her enough, so I left.” He looked to the ceiling and shook his head. “I never made enough money for her or did everything she wanted. She expected me to live off the welfare of others without her. Well... she was almost right.”

  He laughed once, and then continued. “I write articles, you see. Mostly for websites, now. It's a decent living, but because I don't chase celebrities or write sensational articles to back up absurd or baseless theories, it's not the most decent of incomes. Anyways, two years ago, long after my ex had gotten all she could in the divorce settlement, I won the lottery... literally.”

  Accepting the plate of breakfast food, despite the fact the sun was setting, Selia sat at the table. The Sandman sat across from her; his mask pulled up just far enough for him to drink his coffee.

  “You won the state lottery,” she repeated. “Nice. So, you stay hidden wherever you live when you're not bashing bad guys and saving the occasional damsel in distress.” She speared some scrambled eggs and sausage on her fork. “I'm not foolish enough to think you live in that cozy little lair of yours.” Dropping a wink, she turned to devouring her food.

  “No, I actually live in the townhouse next door; the one that connects to the lair. I had that installed. This one, I bought from the neighbor who occupied it for thirty years. In fact, I bought most of the block. The biggest problem for people who suddenly get a large sum of money is that they don't really know how to use it wisely. Sorry, am I boring you?”

  Selia shook her head, a bit in awe and amused by his freedom to tell her so much. She swallowed her mouthful of food.

  “Not at all! A bit surprised that you're telling me so much about yourself,” she replied. “I have a nice nest egg saved up and a good deal of money invested in a portfolio. Part of it is from Soren's generosity and part from my salary from working for him.” She filled her fork up again. “Yes, I get paid the same amount as any other secretary and no, generous gifts of thousands of dollars are not an everyday occurrence.” She tilted her head to the side. “So, what did the ex-wife do when she found out you hit the jackpot?”

  He laughed. “She doesn't know. No one knows, except my parents, my first accountant, and the state lottery people. Oh, and now, you. I'm not breaking any laws by not telling my ex. It's not income she has any legal claim to. But, also, I didn't want people to know. I don't want any of the attention having access to large amounts of money can get you. My friends and the few associates I have in my... uh… normal life, think I'm just a very frugal guy who helps others when he can. The fact is, I made sure that I paid back my parents, friends, anyone who helped me out when I was struggling.”

  He took a sip of coffee before continuing. “I have very sensible parents, who never had a lot of money. It wasn't possible to pay off their mortgage for them without telling them how I could afford it. They supported me while I was dealing with the divorce, and the strain my settlement took on me. They want grandchildren but have figured I'll find another woman and settle down when I've found someone who's really good for me, and vice versa. Anyway, after paying off my debts to everyone- my ex doesn't get any kind of support and we had no kids- I made sure I paid all my taxes, had bank accounts set up to make sure I could pay all future taxes with the interest, but I still had a really, really big chunk of money left over.”

  “The first thing I did was buy this stretch of townhouses from my landlord. I grew up here, and this is my city. I wanted to have an income that didn't depend on writing articles. Writers don't exactly have a 401(k) to pay into. And I didn't want to rely on the lottery money. Silly, maybe, because it was enough to live in the way I was comfortable with. But, that's me. I didn't want to live like a rock star or a movie star, travel the world and throw money everywhere. Can you understand that?”

  “It makes a lot of sense.” Selia nodded, feeling very fortunate to have so much of his trust. She picked up a piece of bacon and nibbled at it thoughtfully. A smile tugged at her lips as she added, “You'd make a good father.”

  “If I'm as good as my dad is, I'll consider myself lucky,” he said softly. Picking up a piece of bacon, he took a bite, chewed slowly, and swallowed.

  “I don't know your parents, but I know you and you are a good man. Whoever you choose as a mate will be very lucky indeed,” she said in almost a whisper. “The children will be even more fortunate.” She gave a smile. “Sorry, please continue.”

  The Sandman shrugged off her comment. “After I bought this block, I hired a manager to take care of it. It's an old friend of mine. We've known each other for decades. We made sure to keep this neighborhood as free of drug dealers, pimps, and gang members as we could. But with all the options in the world, I decided to keep to myself and improve myself. Instead of going to a gym, I had my accountant set up credit cards for a small business that was responsible for all the landlord business. I bought gym equipment and lost forty pounds. At the same time, I did online college courses for business, communication, computer repair and service, learned seven languages... and all the while, becoming more dismayed with what was happening to people in this city.”

  He shook his head, lost in memories.

  “After that first year, I got to spend a lot of time with another old friend who had become a cop. We talked, and still do, about what was happening, and how badly the police were handcuffed by rules and loopholes. I decided I would make a diffe
rence. I'm not a billionaire and I don't have a thing for bats, but you get the idea. There's a lot of stuff you can get that gives you an advantage over criminals... or even police. I hired another accountant who's never met me personally and set up other businesses that make money in real estate, housing, and computer technology. I have some major stock in the big computer companies. But they give me an income to buy stuff that makes me the Sandman. All bought legally, and from companies that have as clean a record as you can and still stay in business. Anything I get that isn't for plain old me is bought through the company I had built to fund The Sandman's efforts.” He coughed and blushed a little. “Geez, I'm talking too much. Um, any questions?”

  “You aren't talking too much.” She assured him before pausing to take a sip of her juice. She continued, almost shyly. “I have only one question. What's your name?” She blushed deeply and rolled the glass of juice between her hands. “My name, my birth name, is Selia Nitetis Laios, not Selia Laios Lascari. I don't even think Soren knows my true middle name. I don't think I ever told him.”

  “Oh, I'm William. William Brendan Fredricks. Not a very exciting name. But pleased to meet you, Selia Nitetis Laios.”

  Selia laughed softly. “Perhaps not an exciting name, but it fits you.” Her eyes twinkled as she lifted the glass to her lips. She added over the rim, “Tis’ a pleasure to meet you, also, William Brendan Fredricks.” Allowing the lilting, musical accent of her homeland to return to the fore as she spoke, it made his name sound exotic and enticing.

  She picked up her plate, tilted the chair back precariously, and slid her plate into the sink. Allowing the legs to touch the floor again with a soft thud, she winked at her companion. He hid his laughter behind his mug. The ringing of her cell phone kept her from teasing him.

  “Oh, look! Soren's calling.”

  Picking it up, she answered cheerfully. “Good evening, Papa! How are you doing today? Feeling better?”

  “As a matter of fact, the doctors are amazed at the speed of my recovery,” replied Soren. “Of course, they're surprised I'm recovering at all, considering the condition I arrived in.”

  There was an amused quality to his voice that Selia hadn't heard in a while. It reminded her of happier times when she was younger.

  “I can't tell you how thrilled I am to hear that!” Selia exclaimed, delighted by his words and his tone. “Hopefully you'll be able to go home soon, and things will go back to normal.” Or at least, as close to normal as possible, she added silently.

  She smiled at the Sandman and decided that normal was a very relative term. Even after she resumed her place as Soren's secretary and personal assistant, she'd still return to the Sandman.

  “Now, can we talk about your new nightlife?”

  It was impossible to not giggle. “Uh, what about my new nightlife, Papa?”

  Maybe she could distract him a little with the endearment. She kept her eyes carefully locked on the juice in her glass.

  “You promised me you were going to be careful,” he said in a teasing tone. “I should have made you promise to lay low and not bring attention to yourself. Of course, you didn't listen to me when I told you to stay away from him. So, what other disobedience can I expect from you?”

  “I'm surprised you aren't yelling at me,” she replied, not giving into nervous giggles, though she knew her laughter was evident in her words. “Does putting the fear of you into Alex and Bernie count as disobedience?”

  “Not at all.” Soren chuckled. “I mean it this time when I say it: Keep a much lower profile. For the love of the Virgin Mary, all of the hospital staff is talking about ‘Nightshade’ and her sidekick the Sandman.”

  At that, she did laugh. “That might make him a little happy.” She raised her gaze to the Sandman, her eyes crinkling with suppressed laughter. Maybe that was why he was in such a good mood? “I'll try harder, Papa; I promise. Have you heard anything from Al about Alfi or, um, ‘Nightshade’?”

  “No one has seen Alfi.” Soren grumbled. “Al has people keeping an eye on the auction building, but once the business starts, it's really too late to do anything but kill him. There are too many guards and too many witnesses for any kind of comfort.” There was a pause. “He hasn't been to any of his usual haunts or his home. Hell, his mistress hasn't even heard from him. Al was actually quite complimentary about the lady of the evening; said it was good that she was keeping the Sandman occupied with other people's business.”

  Selia snickered. “Yeah, well, that wasn't exactly how it happened, nor was it planned on my part.” She paused before adding, her smile growing as she spoke, “Yet Al sent the boys over to make sure it wasn't me. I can only imagine what's being said about me, after their visit.” She took a sip of her juice as she kept her gaze level with the Sandman. “Guess someone else will have to visit the auction house and dig up some clues.”

  There was a long, heavy sigh from the speaker.

  “Selia, careful doesn't even cover what you need to be. There is something else at play in all of this and none of us knows what or who it is. I don't care how trained or determined you or your friend is; this is all a bad scene.” Soren sighed again. “Your cover for being at the bungalow has sent more than a few tongues wagging. Al wanted to know if you were aware the Church viewed such activities as a sin.”

  “Al can take his view and shove it. He knows exactly where I came from and in my homeland, such a thing is not considered a sin, or an abomination, or anything other than normal.” Selia's temper flared. and she forced herself to tamp it down. “If he needs a reminder, I'll happily give it by speaking in my native tongue the next time we meet.” She breathed deeply. “As for the rest, I'll be careful and inform him what you said. I swore vengeance and I will honor that vow.” She added playfully, “We take that sort of thing serious back home, you know.”

  “I recall it very well,” he said in a chiding tone. “When this is all done, you better be alive, and I want to hear all the details. Love you and be careful.”

  The line went dead.

  She made a sour face at the phone and put it back down on the table where the Sandman had left it to charge; he must have plugged it in the night before for her. She just couldn't bring herself to call him by his real name. Not yet anyway.

  “Papa said there’s someone or something else involved in this, to be careful, and also confirmed my suspicion about needing to get into the auction house.” She blushed and glanced away from him as she added, “He also said my little, um, acting last night has tongues wagging and that Al doesn’t approve.” She smiled at him slyly. “Guess after this is all over, I’ll just have to be seen with a handsome, charming guy. Wouldn’t happen to know someone willing to help me with that little problem, would you?”

  The Sandman smiled. “I could probably whip up someone. Do you want a blonde, brunette, redhead, or bald?”

  “As long as it isn't bald, I'll probably fall into his arms at first sight,” Selia replied impishly. She laughed softly, as she confessed, “You left me breathless the night we went to visit Al. I have no doubt it will be a constant thing with you, no matter what you wear.”

  “Oh, such flattery! You can't be from around here,” he said in an exaggerated tone, and batted his eyelashes.

  She laughed. “Don't make me smack you. I know for a fact you have an incredible physique.” Standing, she shook her head at him. “I'd best go get dressed before I disrespect your desire for privacy and prove my point.”

  She leaned over, kissed his masked cheek, and sauntered into the bathroom to change for that night’s escapade.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  A zyre House was a six-story building a few blocks from the docks. It wasn’t overly elegant or extravagant on the outside, instead looking like a tall brick building with revolving front doors. A pair of guards walked the perimeter of the building. The Sandman pulled out a baton, but Selia placed a light hand on his arm before he could move forward.

  Both had dressed at her bunga
low, so there had been no short detour to his lair before going to the auction house. That meant they had more time to look for something that would tell them when the auction was going to be, which room, and possibly something about where Alfi was currently hiding. A pair of guards patrolled the outside, crossing by each other before continuing on along their path.

  “I’ll take care of this,” Selia murmured. The Sandman narrowed his eyes at her, and she smiled. “No need to harm them,” she whispered, a promise ringing in her voice. “Just watch.”

  Not bothering with hiding in the shadows, she strode across the small alley they’d been hiding in and approached the guard who was moving towards them. The other had already moved towards the next side of the building.

  Just to be theatrical, Selia waved a hand in a sweeping gesture as the guard looked towards her, his hand falling to the gun at his hip.

  “You don’t need to do that,” she said, her voice low, sultry, and commanding. The guard stopped and his hand fell to his side. She paused within arm’s reach of the guard and motioned for the Sandman to join her. Even as she heard his steps nearing her, she continued speaking to the guard who was staring at her with unblinking eyes. “Now, you’re going to let us into this building without activating the alarm and give us the keys that go to this building. After that, you will forget everything about this conversation and the pair of us before continuing your patrol as though nothing has happened.”

  The guard nodded and did as he was bid. He unhooked the round ring of keys from his belt and handed them to her, followed by a pass card from a pocket. Turning, he punched in a code to the door and held it open. Once she and the Sandman were inside, the guard let the door shut. Selia watched him move off before it closed completely. She gave the Sandman a sweet, innocent smile.

  “I suppose I have nothing to worry about in the way of camera footage?” he asked.