Evening Storm (Midnight Chronicles Book 2)

by Andrea Pearson

  My mom might have been on the verge of freedom.

  I gripped the cheeseburger, trying to control the urge to pound Detective Cole.

  Lizzie returned, wearing different clothes and looking freshly done up.

  “Do you want fries?” she asked me.

  “No, I don’t. I want to know why you ran off to the other side of the world without telling me.”

  My words must have come as a surprise because she stared at me, mouth hanging open.

  She didn’t remain shocked for long. “Are you madder that I didn’t tell you I was going, or that I took Cole and not you?”

  I glared at her, unable to formulate a response. Yes, I was angry—even hurt. But she had no idea what was going on. No clue. And her perfect life and perfect upbringing prevented her from ever understanding any part of my life, let alone what I’d just experienced with my mom.

  Unable to be in her presence any longer, I tossed the rest of my cheeseburger on the table and whirled, striding for the front door and slamming it behind me.

  I stood on her porch for several moments, breathing heavily. My face flushed as I realized what a ridiculous scene I’d just put on. I’d taken my frustrations out on her when she really had nothing to do with my situation, and I’d been very immature about it.

  So, my plans had been thwarted. How many times had this happened during my years as an assassin? Why had I lost my cool?

  Because anger was a lot easier to deal with than pain.

  I slumped onto the top step of Lizzie’s porch, rubbing my face. I needed to get back in control of my emotions and the situation. Find another way to proceed. To do my job.

  And especially not to think or feel.

  The door opened quietly, and Lizzie took a seat on the step. I didn’t fail to notice that she put at least a foot between us.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey.”

  Such a simple, stupid word, and yet, just that little of an exchange had me almost spilling my thoughts to her. I closed my eyes, embarrassed at how close to the surface my emotions were. At how this woman undid me almost completely when I was in her presence.

  Lizzie reached over and lightly brushed my forearm with her fingertips.

  Again, a little thing—a simple touch, in this case—and it had me almost opening up to her. Almost.

  “You want to talk about it?” she asked.

  Yes. Yes, I did. But I couldn’t—there was no way I’d have the control to bring up my contract in a way that would have her not panicking, not freaking out, not calling the cops.

  Or calling for the cop who was currently in her house.

  I wouldn’t be able to lie my way through it. My emotions were too close to the surface, and she’d know immediately that I wasn’t being honest.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not sure it would do any good.”

  “You won’t know unless you try.”

  That wasn’t true.

  “Some of my jobs are much more difficult than others. And I botched one pretty badly recently.”

  I should have killed her weeks ago. I’d had plenty of opportunities. Instead, I’d spent the time trying to figure out how to get out of doing it.

  I’d exhausted all avenues. There wasn’t a way out.

  I glanced at her. She was staring across the street, an intense expression on her face. Probably trying to figure out how to get me to talk without scaring me away.

  The realization hit me that I could kill her now. Strangle her. Break her neck.

  But no—there were no guarantees that her neighbors weren’t watching, or that someone wouldn’t drive by at the perfect moment, or that Detective Cole wouldn’t come through the front door. And I just . . . couldn’t. Not now, when she was being so nice. So . . . loveable.

  “Can you tell me anything?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “Not if I want to stay alive.” It was as close to the truth about my mom as I could get. I wasn’t ready to tell Lizzie about my family—what had happened to them. Or what was currently happening to my mom.

  “You botching jobs probably doesn’t happen often, though.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  “Let it go, then. You’re good at what you do.”

  I couldn’t respond for a moment. For some reason, the compliment hit me square in the heart. Coming from her, I felt like it actually meant something. Getting approval from the woman I loved felt good. Really good. “The fact that I don’t usually mess up only makes the messups harder to handle.”

  She nodded. “Good point.”

  Lizzie exhaled slowly, and I could sense the anxiety coming off her in waves. She was in a hurry—antsy to begin our work together. “We need to start hunting,” she said.

  I nodded, straightening, letting my stress and frustration flow away. She was right. We couldn’t put it off any longer. I’d just have to deal with my contract with the Shadow Prophet later—the next time we were alone, in her house, where I could control the outcome and variables better.

  My anger from earlier left as my more efficient side took over. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We already know that the hounds are congregating in a storage unit, right?”

  Lizzie nodded. “Yes. Hounds have been moving into it for a while. Not all of them—just the stronger ones.”

  I frowned. “Why the stronger ones? Why not the weak ones too?”

  “Apparently, the more powerful I’ve become, the more the hounds are able to sense me. Detective Cole and I just spent several days returning an effigy that drew their attention from me to it. As its effects gradually go away, the weaker hounds will start to sense me too.”

  “We need to begin searching all the storage units in Lehi.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. How are we going to do it? Open up a rental in every facility? There are several of them here in town.”

  “I’ll pay for it,” I said, “if that’s what you’re worrying about.”

  “I’m not worried about money.”

  Her curtness left no doubt in my mind how she felt about her finances. Okay. Touchy subject. Fine.

  “When do we start?” she asked.

  “Right now.”

  I got to my feet, and out of habit, offered her a hand up. The moment her hand was in mine, my entire body stilled. My breath caught, my heart warmed, and electricity shot up my arm. I forgot my resolution, my conviction to fulfill my contract. I forgot where I stood and what we were supposed to be doing.

  My eyes met hers, and for a brief moment, I saw in her gaze something I’d longed and hoped to see forever. But before I could put a finger on what exactly it was, Mrs. Russell started screaming from inside her house.

  12

  “Not again,” Lizzie muttered.

  We raced off the porch and jumped the little fence that separated Lizzie’s yard from hers. I reached the woman’s house first, with Lizzie close behind. Like last time, Mrs. Russell had a gun and was running into the living room, chasing a dog. But unlike last time, the hound didn’t stay in dog form for long. As soon as he saw Lizzie, he shifted into a man.

  I was ready. I jumped him, throwing him to the ground. Lizzie wasn’t far behind, and her added weight kept the man pinned.

  “Kill him,” I said through clenched teeth when it didn’t happen immediately. The man moved under me, and I adjusted my weight.

  “I’m trying.” She grunted in frustration. “I have to be closer to his sternum.”

  “Then get there. And hurry. We can’t hold him for long.”

  The man managed to free an arm. He punched me in the face, then swung out, presumably at Lizzie, but my eyes were smarting and I couldn’t see. Before I could get a better grip on him, he squirmed out from underneath us and scrambled toward the door, where Detective Cole was standing, his mouth hanging open.

  Lizzie grabbed a large copy of the Bible and chucked it at the back of the man’s head. It hit him, and he stumbled as he grabbed at Cole, who was still frozen.
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br />   I lunged for the hound, tossing him away from the door before yanking the gun from Mrs. Russell and pumping several bullets into the man’s back.

  “He was a dog!” Mrs. Russell exclaimed, staring down at him. “A dog!”

  Lizzie jumped to the man’s side, pulling the amulet out of her shirt and holding it close to him. “Yes. Finally. Kill him.”

  I felt a little bit of magic swirl through the air around her, and the man exhaled, his body becoming even more limp.

  Lizzie got to her feet, wiping her hands on her pants, and turned to Mrs. Russell. “Sorry about that.”

  “He was a dog!” she repeated.

  I led the elderly woman to the couch and helped her sit down while Lizzie got a glass of water.

  “Detective Cole, call the cops,” I said. “Do what you do best.”

  He blinked and cleared his throat, then pulled his phone from his pocket. “Doing it now.”

  Some cop.

  “I’ll get the bloodstain out of Mrs. Russell’s carpet,” Lizzie said, returning.

  I moved to stop her, then paused, not wanting to touch her again. My heart didn’t need another reminder of how it felt about her. “Her insurance should cover cleanup.”

  “He’s . . . he’s right,” Mrs. Russell said. “Don’t touch it. What if he had AIDS or something?”

  She had a point, though I doubted the hounds could get deadly diseases.

  Lizzie, Detective Cole, and I stayed with Mrs. Russell until more cops arrived.

  “I don’t even know what to put on the paperwork for this,” Detective Cole said, holding a pen over a pad he’d retrieved from his car.

  “Leave it to this jurisdiction,” I said, knowing he worked for the American Fork Police Department. “Besides, you’re off duty.”

  “A cop is never truly off duty.”

  I rolled my eyes to myself. While I agreed with him, it was obvious he was trying to earn points with Lizzie. A quick glance at her showed she hadn’t even heard him—she was welcoming Detective Evans into the house.

  Mr. Russell returned from work as quickly as he could after his wife told him what had happened. I couldn’t help but wonder where he “worked,” and if it was the same place where the human whose body he mimicked had worked.

  Lizzie still didn’t know who they were, so I kept my questions to myself as she and Detective Evans filled in the Russells on what had been going on and Lizzie’s role in all of it.

  “I’m sorry you’ve been targeted twice now,” she said.

  Mr. Russell shook his head. “If what you say is accurate, they’re not targeting us per se, but merely using our house as a traveling stop on their way to yours.”

  “That’s true.” Lizzie looked at me. “I think changes are in order.”

  I nodded. “I agree. But first, we need to find where the hounds are staying.”

  She glanced out the window, and I could tell by the lines of her body and the expression on her face just how exhausted she was. What had returning that magical item entailed for her to be so weary?

  I wasn’t surprised when she asked, “Can we start tomorrow? I just spent forty-eight hours on the run from dogs, and judging by how difficult it was to kill this one, I need to get a full night’s rest before we really begin.”

  While I was definitely sympathetic, if what she’d said about the item she’d returned was true, we didn’t have much time before it no longer had a pull on the hounds.

  “If you think that’s wise,” I said. “But it would probably be best for us to strike while they’re still potentially distracted.”

  Lizzie shook her head. “It would be better to wait until as many of them are here as possible. That way, we can take them by surprise. They don’t know we’re aware of the storage unit. We should get as many of them as possible in one shot.”

  Good point. I found myself marveling yet again at how much she’d changed since I’d first met her. “We need to understand what the fire vampires are up to as well.”

  “Yes, we do. I’d like to talk to them—approach them, see if we can figure out what they want.”

  “No, we need to watch their coven so we understand exactly what we’re dealing with. Preparation is key in this situation.”

  “True. I’ve got the feeling, though, that they’re not here strictly to kill, but mainly out of curiosity.”

  “We still need to observe them first.”

  Lizzie got flustered when she realized the Russells were listening in on the conversation. I smiled inwardly, watching her squirm. She was cute when she was embarrassed.

  Knock it off, Abel. Don’t forget Mom.

  I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and counting to ten before glancing at Lizzie again. She was contemplating them, probably trying to figure out why they weren’t freaking out. We’d just been talking about vampires, after all, and neither of them had acted surprised.

  After filling out reports and explaining what happened at least two times more, Lizzie and I were able to extricate ourselves. She retreated to the safety of her house, Detective Cole went home, and I walked around the block several times, trying to decide what to do.

  I took a look at my nightshade tattoo, unsurprised to see it nearly empty again. I should go home and sleep for a while. My seventh target didn’t know where I lived or that I was even here. She didn’t know who my targets were—at least not my future ones, though maybe she could guess. But I wouldn’t be able to complete any of my contracts if I were (literally) dead on my feet.

  With a sigh of frustration, feeling like I was procrastinating even though I had a good reason for doing it, I returned to my car and drove home.

  My heart was still mostly shuttered at the thought of Lizzie, but I recognized a slight waver in my determination. I needed to go through with my decision before I lost the rest of that determination.

  A thought occurred to me. Lizzie had a purpose for being alive. She was supposed to destroy the evil Hounds of Tindalos. I’d read the prophecy myself—she was the only one who could do it.

  Maybe I could put off killing her until after she’d finished her purpose. Because if she didn’t do it, they’d grow in power until they devoured everyone and destroyed everything.

  Lizzie was still needed.

  It wasn’t much to go off of, and I’d need to ponder it out more when I wasn’t so exhausted, but it gave me a bit of peace. I drifted off to sleep soon after.

  I woke up early the next morning, which surprised me until I realized I hadn’t commanded my nightshade tattoo to let me sleep. The time had passed so quickly from when I’d hit the sack to waking up that I almost didn’t feel like I’d actually fallen asleep.

  It didn’t matter where my tattoo was concerned—even rest that wasn’t commanded to happen was good for it.

  After stretching and enjoying the resulting pops, I got out of bed and made breakfast.

  Today was going to be a good day. I didn’t know why, at least not yet, but I was sure I’d figure out the reason for my good mood. I hadn’t awakened cheerful in a long time, and it was a nice change.

  It wasn’t until I was eating that I realized why I was happy.

  There was a chance I could put off killing Lizzie for another day or two, maybe more.

  Rather than holding on to that hope too much, I tucked it away to examine later, when I had more time, and hopped in the car, driving to Lizzie’s house.

  We had hunting to do.

  13

  My sunny disposition took me all the way to Lizzie’s house, but was dampened a bit by the weird mixture of emotions that hit me when I started up the sidewalk to her door. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever feel like a normal person near her house—too many things had happened there already.

  I suppressed a grin when Lizzie opened the door with an annoyed and grouchy expression on her face. Miss Cheerful had cranky moments like the rest of us? Delightful.

  “Abel, what a surprise.”

  Sarcasm duly noted.

&nb
sp; She motioned for me to come inside. “Wanting to get an early start?”

  I barely glanced at her. Despite my earlier happiness, I still needed to safeguard my heart. I might have found a way to buy myself more time, but it was temporary. Very, very temporary.

  “Yes. As a matter of fact, I do. There’s way too much for us to accomplish today. We need to strike the moment the hounds are here.”

  Lizzie nodded before turning and heading into the kitchen. I wasn’t sure what she wanted me to do, so I slowly followed her, then leaned against the doorframe, staring at the ceiling while she finished her breakfast.

  She surprised me by going fast—she really did want to get hunting. Good.

  Lizzie was rinsing out her bowl when she jumped, turning toward me.

  I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong, but she spoke before I had the chance.

  “Agnes?” she said. “Aren’t you supposed to be guarding Mount Koven?”

  I raised an eyebrow. She obviously wasn’t talking to me. Just in case she needed backup, I stepped the rest of the way into the kitchen and put my hands on the counter behind me near my holstered gun, keeping an eye on her. If it was a ghost she was talking to—and I suspected it was—my gun wouldn’t do anything. But it still made me feel better knowing I could grab it quickly.

  “‘He’?” she asked. “Who’s that?”

  She nodded. “I’ve got a visitor,” she said to me. “I need to take a quick trip to Mount Koven.” She turned away again, presumably toward the ghost. “How long will it take?”

  A sour expression crossed her face. “She says she’s not sure,” Lizzie said to me. “What would you like to do?”

  I shifted my weight forward, trying not to feel disappointed, and walked into the living room. “I’ll start a movie. If you’re not back by the time it’s over, I’ll head home. In which case, call me when you’re done.”

  “Sounds good.”

  A moment later, Lizzie left through the front door.

  ***

  Over two and a half hours later, when the movie 2012 ended, she still hadn’t returned. Refusing again to feel disappointed, I turned off the system and left her house.