Night Novellas: Night Thief & Night Angel

by Lisa Kessler

  You gave me my voice. She ran her fingers down his scarred left arm. He didn’t flinch. She smiled, her eyelids growing heavy. All of a sudden, I’m exhausted.

  Colin nodded. The sun is rising. When it sets, you have much to learn.

  I’m a quick study.

  He grinned. I have no doubt.

  Juliana’s heart awoke as the sun set. She pulled in a breath that morphed into a moan as she found herself settling into a hot bath. She opened her eyes. Colin straightened, standing over her.

  What a way to wake up. She wriggled her fingers in the water, enjoying her new Night Walker senses. Colin walked to the door, and she frowned. You’re not coming in with me?

  Not yet. He glanced back at her. I have some cleaning up to do first.

  Cleaning up?

  You’re a Night Walker now. There was an Irish lilt to his voice. Playful. While ya rested yer body transformed. It’s a pisser of a process, but the end result is more than worth it.

  With an accent like that no one would take ya for a foreigner.

  His grin widened. I have lived here longer than any Irishmen on the island. I think I earned a little brogue, aye?

  “Aye.” She had no idea what the tone of her voice was, but the sparkle in his eyes made it worth the effort.

  Bollocks. I cannae get enough of you, angel. He came back over for one more kiss.

  She watched him walk away, uninhibited in his nakedness. His chiseled, well-muscled nakedness. She pinched herself just to make sure she was really awake. Dipping under the water, she wet her hair and surfaced to find him standing in the doorway.

  I thought you had to clean up.

  Already did.

  Her eyes widened. How?

  Besides having clear vision in the dark and hearin’ thoughts, we can move faster than mortals can see. He raised a brow slightly. Especially when I’ve got incentive.

  Incentive? She gnawed at her lower lip, enjoying the way he watched her mouth.

  I have plans for you… He scooped her out of the tub so fast she gasped. He turned on the shower. But the tub is too small for my plans.

  Oh really? She grinned as she kissed him slowly.

  His tongue parted her lips, drawing a moan from her throat as she returned his caress. He carried her into the shower, lowering her feet to the ground, the hot water sluicing down her body. He stood behind her and shampooed her hair. His fingers massaged her scalp until she worried her knees might give out. His soapy hands reached around her, teasing her nipples into taut points before sliding down her abdomen.

  She rested against his chest, enjoying his attention. He bent and brushed his lips against her shoulder. He turned her to face him while he rinsed out her hair.

  When she opened her eyes, his smile softened as he ran a soapy finger over her pendant. I am so grateful to whatever or whoever wove our destinies together, that you were playing piano as I walked by the pub.

  I had a dream the night before. I saw your face, and I wondered how our lives were connected. I’m sorry that I doubted you when Benedict told me he saw you with Muriel.

  He shrugged. I should have told you everything, but I was too selfish, too afraid I would lose you. In the end, I almost did.

  She ran her wet hand up his chest to rest over his heart. In my dreams I can still hear. The banshee called and I saw your face and Benedict’s. Our lives were entwined and death was coming, but I didn’t warn you. I didn’t realize Muriel would get pulled into the web.

  None of this is your fault.

  She nodded with a little shrug. Maybe all of it was destiny. I was given a glimpse but no chance to change it.

  He bent his knees, sliding his hands down the backs of her thighs, lifting her so they were eye to eye. She wrapped her legs around his waist and rested her forehead to his. His voice warmed her from the inside out.

  From this night on…no more secrets.

  She nodded. No more secrets.

  His lips fused to hers. She tangled her fingers in the back of his wet hair, moaning as the tip of his erection brushed her opening. She rocked her hips forward, and their bodies joined. Every thrust of his hips, every inch of him inside of her, sent her passion soaring.

  Colin was her destiny. This moment, this love. His blood had silenced the banshee.

  He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck to her shoulder. Her head lulled to the side, opening for him. Teasing her flesh with his tongue, he whispered into her mind. You need to drink.

  His voice, his command, his offer, all blended into a compulsion she couldn’t resist. Tilting her head down, she licked the water from his shoulder. The scent of his skin enticed her, and the sound of his pulse throbbing tempted her thirst to the surface. Her tongue slid along her teeth, shocked to discover fangs lengthening. Her new instincts already at work.

  Drink from me, angel. All that I am is yours.

  She bit. His blood awakened every cell in her body, her muscles clenching around him as his hips worked into her faster. She drank him in, welcoming his mind to join with hers through their blood connection. Her memories were his, and suddenly a sting became erotic pleasure as he fed on her, as well. She’d never felt so close to anyone, so intimate. They were one in every possible way.

  She cried his name aloud as her orgasm swept through her. He held her tight, surrendering, and pulsed deep inside of her, making her tremble in his arms. His lips brushed her shoulder as he healed the bite. She continued to drink until her thirst was sated. Finally, she rested her head on his shoulder.

  That was…intense.

  He kissed her ear. Amazing.

  She lifted her head. He had the sexiest grin on his face. She smiled up at him as he lowered her to the ground. Thank you for saving me.

  Only fair… He raised her chin, kissing her tenderly. Because you most definitely saved me.

  Epilogue

  Colin glided through the night sky, keeping watch over the red fox running below. In the weeks since Juliana had become a Night Walker, his life had turned upside down. He no longer repressed his hawk. Juliana had helped him to see there was more to him than his loss. He couldn’t fly high into the sky or hunt like he once had, but he could still glide, enjoy the freedom of weightlessness, the wind in his face.

  And she’d taken to her spirit animal, finding joy in running through the woods as a red fox. She still didn’t hunt, feeding only from his veins, but he was happy to provide for her. Truth be told, he didn’t like the thought of her beautiful lips on the necks of criminals.

  He landed gently on the ground beside the fox, the air igniting with energy as they shifted back to their human forms. Juliana smiled, eyes still wide from her adventure in the forest.

  How is it that I had four legs and a tail, and now I stand on two legs fully clothed like nothing happened?

  Night Walker magic. Colin winked, laughing when she elbowed him. Okay, okay. When we allow our animal spirit to take over, we step back, but we are still just as we were.

  Suspended animation?

  He’d always taken his shifts for granted. He pondered it a moment longer and tipped his head with a nod. Something like that? I allow the hawk to come forward more than I actually change myself. Make sense?

  I think I get it. Juliana crossed her arms, hip jutting out a bit with a spark in her dark eyes. Night Walker magic.

  He laughed wrapping her in his arms. You, my angel, are the greatest magic I have ever known.

  Acknowledgments

  This novella was a labor of love for all the Night Series fans out there who thought Colin deserved a Happily Ever After! Thanks to my Night Angel Legion for all the support and enthusiasm for this story. You rock! Also a big thanks to my beta readers, Panda Wilson, Denise Fluhr, and Heather Cox. I also want to thank my fabulous editor who always makes my stories shine, Danielle Poiesz, and my agent Laurie McLean who supports and encourages me to try new things even when they’re not on the traditional path. And to my husband, Ken, who is my best friend and tolera
tes listening to me freak out about new story ideas. He’s also a master at talking me off the cliff when I get so busy my head spins. I love you!

  And to all of the readers out there, thank YOU for reading and telling your friends about books you love. If you enjoyed the book I hope you’ll leave a short review.

  I love hearing from readers! You can find me here:

  Lisa-Kessler.com

  facebook.com/LisaKesslerWriter

  twitter.com/LdyDisney

  goodreads.com/LisaKessler

  pinterest.com/LdyDisney

  Enjoy a sneak peek of The Night Series, Night Child

  Blood pooled in the bottom of her mouth. The metallic sweet taste made her wince. She had a habit of gnawing on the inside of her cheek as her aggravation level rose. Judging by the size of the hole in her mouth, she’d already hit DEFCON 3 and rising. Great.

  She shook her head with a smirk and rolled her eyes. Oh, she was way past aggravated. She’d moved straight on to pissed.

  The heels of her pumps clicked against the cement sidewalk, echoing off the walls of the aging brick buildings clustered together near the beach boardwalk. No tourists in this part of Pacific Beach.

  The hollow sound magnified the silence surrounding her.

  Muriah La Deaux tossed her head, sending her long dark hair cascading back over her shoulder and giving her a clear view of the abandoned alleyway. As soon as her foot left the curb, the sea breeze took control of her hair again until it veiled her face.

  Richard stood her up tonight.

  “Bastard,” she muttered under her breath. Without slowing her pace, she glanced at her watch. Nearly one in the morning. She never should have waited so long.

  She shouldn’t have waited at all.

  “Oh get over it, Muriah. No one forced you to spend the past four hours sitting in his apartment watching HBO,” she groaned, well beyond caring if anyone heard her talking to herself. Why did she keep accepting his apologies, giving him second chances?

  The real question was who annoyed her more, Richard or herself.

  This wasn’t the first time Richard failed to show up to meet her. He always had an excuse, an urgent matter. Apparently she wasn’t urgent enough to matter.

  Maybe it was time to grow up. Her penchant for bad boys and dead end relationships disguised as freedom was starting to feel pathetic instead of thrilling.

  A man dressed in black with a stark white collar stepped out of the shadows, offering her a flyer. “The end is near. The signs are all around us. Is your name written in the Lord’s Book? Will your soul be saved?”

  “Yes,” she answered without hesitation and crossed to the other side of the narrow beach street where the yellow streetlights kept the shadows, and usually the fanatics, at bay.

  Since the rash of unexplained mass suicides plagued Central America and parts of the southern United States two months ago, the self-proclaimed ministers of doom had been coming out of the woodwork, and they weren’t the only ones. Even the mainstream Protestants and Catholics of the world were being strongly encouraged by the clergy to confess and make their souls right with the All Mighty Savior.

  The sudden wave of death that swelled out of nowhere disappeared the same way it came. Silently and without warning. But contrary to the preaching of the doomsday ministers, Muriah doubted it had much to do with the end of the world. Strange, unexplained phenomena had been happening for centuries. No denying this one was scary and dangerous, but it was also over.

  Just like her relationship with Richard.

  She laughed at herself. Relationship. Definitely not what she and Richard shared. More of a convenient friendship with certain intimacies enjoyed on the side. She didn’t even know if he dated other women. Knowing him, he probably did, not that it mattered much. She never asked for anything exclusive with any of the men she dated.

  The thought of commitment gave her hives…too real, and much too binding. Way too easy to get yourself hurt. Bad.

  But being stood up was getting old. She turned thirty today, and instead of a candlelight birthday dinner with Richard, she spent it alone with his remote control. She didn’t need true love, but a guy who called when he ran late wasn’t asking too much. Time to stop wasting her life on men like Richard.

  He was one of her customers, a collector of rare books and other artifacts. A year ago, he had walked into her bookstore, The Dimension’s Den, searching for a certain Mayan codex. He burst through her faded red door oozing with adventure.

  Maybe his passion for finding ancient relics had been her downfall.

  Richard wasn’t alarmingly handsome, more like an average-looking man you might run into at the grocery store. The one you offer a polite smile, but not your phone number. He said his plain looks were an asset to him in his “business.”

  Mayan relics and writings weren’t something many people asked her to find. In fact, over the years, only one other customer had ever requested her help finding documents dating back to the Maya, and he wasn’t human.

  Not anymore.

  When Richard came in, she hadn’t been certain the codex he wanted still existed, but she craved the adventure to try and find it. Maybe the challenge made Richard more attractive to her.

  Hard to say.

  While she searched her sources across the border in Mexico, tracing relics older than recorded time with her gifted fingers, Richard made other purchases and soon became a regular customer. Before she realized it, they were dating. She’d never dated one of her customers before.

  It wasn’t that she had a rule against it, it just hadn’t ever happened.

  Rule following wasn’t her strong suit anyway.

  At least her bad boy obsession kept her heart protected from the inevitable good-byes. She went into the relationships expecting them to end eventually. She never should have wasted so much time with Richard anyway. Cutting and running was a simple decision. Painless really.

  Yanking her keys out of her purse, she rounded the corner into a darker, narrower alleyway. Her forward motion abruptly halted. She smacked into the chest of a large police officer. Muriah gasped and peeked around his solid frame, her eyes widening when she saw the faded red door to her tiny bookstore blocked off with yellow police tape.

  “What happened? This is my store.” She dodged to the right, but his large hand caught her arm. “What’s going on?”

  “Are you Muriah La Deaux?”

  Her pulse pounded in her ears. She blinked. Finally, she glanced up at his face and nodded.

  “Follow me.”

  Muriah ducked under the tape, trailing behind the officer and into her shop. Her heart sank at the sight of all the uninvited, uniformed guests snooping through her things. Before she could scream at all of them to leave, a tall man with dusty blond hair approached her and offered his hand.

  “I’m Agent Bale. You must be Miss La Deaux?”

  “Muriah.” Numbness seized her as she shook his hand. “Mind telling me what the hell is going on here? You can’t just barge into my store without a search warrant.”

  He released her hand, withdrawing a search warrant and his badge from his pocket. “I’ve got one. I’m investigating an unusual homicide.”

  “Homicide?” Her eyes widened. “I don’t understand. What does my store have to do with it?”

  “Do you have someplace we can speak privately?”

  Muriah nodded. “My office is in the back.”

  She walked past a few more officers and into her office. Once they were inside, she sat behind her desk while the tall agent closed the door.

  “Okay, what’s going on? Why are you in my store?”

  “We couldn’t reach anyone at the store, so we got a warrant to check out the connection.” He cleared his throat and leaned forward with an intense stare. “One of your customers, a Richard Talley, was found dead on the beach at six a.m. yesterday morning. We have reason to believe he was on his way…”

  The detective’s lips kept moving, but she c
ouldn’t hear him anymore. The blood drained from her face and her chest tightened. A few minutes ago, she’d been cursing Richard under her breath for standing her up, and now… Now she understood why he hadn’t come to his apartment to meet her and didn’t answer his cell phone. He hadn’t been alive.

  He was gone. Forever.

  “Miss La Deaux?” The old, wooden swivel chair screeched as Agent Bale leaned forward. “Are you all right?”

  She flinched when his large hand reached across her desk. “Yeah. I’m sorry I’m just…shocked.”

  “Would you like some water or something?”

  “No, that’s all right.” Richard was dead? God, Richard was dead. “How? When? I mean, how did this happen? Who did it?”

  “We’re still trying to determine what happened. That’s why we’re here. The address on his driver’s license is incorrect, but he had a few receipts in his wallet from this store. We’re hoping to find out some additional background information about him. When we couldn’t contact you today, I got a search warrant.”

  “He still had his wallet?”

  Agent Bale nodded, his steel gray eyes honed in on her. “This didn’t appear to be a robbery. We have his credit and banking records. He seemed to spend plenty of time and money in your store. We were hoping to find more connections, like a current address. Can you tell me where he lived?”

  “Richard moved around a lot,” she whispered. She meant to speak louder, but shock choked her voice.

  Her mind raced. She wanted them to catch Richard’s killer and give him justice. But she knew what Richard’s “business” entailed, and none of it was legal. His “associates” were dangerous, and if they were behind this…

  She didn’t want to get mixed up in any of it.

  Richard would understand.

  She didn’t offer up that she had the address where he lived, or that she had been waiting for him in his apartment earlier this evening. As much as she wanted to curl up into a ball and cry, she fought the tears.