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The Darkness Calls

Page 3

by Michelle Roth


  “A little sports bar like this one,” he teased.

  She smiled and said, “I originally applied for a position in the piano bar you just opened a few months ago. Something like that would be more my speed. I’m thinking maybe a whisky bar with small bites, though. The food would change seasonally. Not that I’ve put any thought into it.”

  “Of course you haven’t,” he agreed. “When you’ve got a business plan ready, send it my way. It sounds incredibly unique for the area. I could help you locate some investors.”

  “Really,” she asked. “Just like that?”

  “You obviously know your product. You picked my favorite brand, by the way,” he said, swirling the half-empty glass at her. “And I know you’re tenacious. Those are desirable qualities in a leader. Once you acclimate yourself to the business side of things, you’ll be unstoppable.”

  She blinked at him a few times and then said, “Thank you.”

  He took another sip of his drink and studied her.

  When she realized that she was fidgeting, she finally asked, “So what brings you to the sports bar this evening?

  “You,” he said.

  Her pulse was hammering, so she nervously picked up the remote as if he hadn’t spoken. “Was there a game on somewhere that you wanted to watch?”

  “I’m not interested in sports, Lilly,” he said, his gaze steady.

  She tilted her head slightly as she wondered if she should ask. He must have seen her question because he said, “Ask me whatever it is you’re debating on whether to ask me.”

  “I see a lot of the Transfigured in here,” she said, gesturing to the bar. “About fifty-fifty. I don’t understand. What thrill would someone with superior strength and reflexes get out of watching human sports?”

  Obviously, that hadn’t been the question he expected because his face went blank as he considered the answer. He took the last sip from his drink and finally said, “It’s like the difference between college and professional sports. In college there’s a wider variety of skill levels so there’s more opportunity for big plays.”

  “I never thought of it that way. I guess watching a bunch of super-fast, super-strong guys battling it out would get kind of boring,” she agreed. Curious, she asked, “What did you think I was going to ask you?”

  “I wasn’t entirely certain, but that wasn’t it,” he admitted. He must’ve been acting on pure impulse when he uttered his next words because he looked as if they had startled even him. “Have dinner with me, Lilly.”

  Her eyes widened in shock for a moment before she finally managed, “I...I don’t know if that would be a good idea. I’m an employee.”

  “You’re probably right,” he acknowledged, then picked her hand up from where it clutched the bar. His hand was cooler than hers, but still warm. His skin felt just like normal skin. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but this was a surprise.

  He waited until her eyes met his before he said, “But I know you feel it too.”

  If he was referring to the acute physical response she had to his nearness, or the fact that her heart was beating like a bass drum in her chest, then he was correct. She definitely felt that. It was a healthy dose of lust, anticipation, and fear. “I do,” she admitted. Then, in almost a whisper, she added, “I just don’t know if I want to.”

  He nodded, as if he understood what she was saying, even though there was no way he could. He stroked a thumb lightly over her knuckles and said, “I’m going to be travelling on business for the next week. Please, just think about it while I’m gone. If you still feel that way when I’ve returned, then I won’t bother you again.” After giving her hand one more gentle squeeze, he released it and said, “Enjoy your studies, little one. I’ll see you when I return.”

  “Bye. Have a safe trip,” she said weakly. She watched as he walked toward the door. He opened it, gave her one final parting wave, and then left.

  She stared at the door for a few more moments and then began to count down the register. It wasn’t likely there would be any more customers for the night. At least it would give her more uninterrupted study time.

  She frowned. It wasn’t likely she’d be able to concentrate. For some reason, Talan McKenna was interested in her. She had no idea what to do with that.

  Chapter Four

  Talan wiped the sweat and humidity off of his brow as he walked through the partially completed shell for the Miami casino. Only in Florida could it be eighty-five degrees with seventy-five percent humidity at nine o’clock at night. In February. He would take the cold over this sweltering mugginess any day. He couldn’t imagine how hot it must be during the day when the workers were actually present. He’d had to hire an all-human construction firm for this particular project due to noise ordinances.

  In the distance he could hear the heavy thumping of a bass, so he suspected the ordinance was more about not letting anything drown out the house music that the trendy South Beach clubs were constantly pumping out. That was another thing he didn’t understand—it was nothing but repetitive noise. He was absolutely bewildered by its popularity.

  Lachlan MacDonald, his business partner and the closest thing he had to family, said, “I don’t know how people can be so into this shite weather, Talan.”

  This evening on the way down from his hotel room, he’d been in the elevator with an older human couple. The man was shamelessly wearing a thong Speedo. He’d caught himself wishing that Lilly had been there to see that. He had no doubt she would have been highly amused. With a grin on his face, he responded, “Maybe they aren’t. That’s why everyone in Miami walks around half naked.”

  Lachlan turned his head around, grinned, and said, “Talan, that was almost a joke. Are you okay?”

  He waved him off and said, “I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with so I can get back inside. Christ, even my knees are sweating.”

  “Talan, you’ve smiled at least three times today. You’re not acting like yourself,” Lachlan said.

  “I said it’s nothing,” Talan swiped at the sweat on his brow again.

  “And what’s this nothing’s name,” Lachlan asked knowingly.

  “Lilly,” Talan admitted. “She works in the Toronto casino.”

  “You sure you know what you’re doing there, mate?”

  He ran a hand through his short-cropped hair in aggravation. “I wish I did. If it were just a sex thing, I’d take a pass, but...”

  Lachlan’s eyebrows rose.

  “I actually like her and that’s a fairly unfamiliar feeling,” he admitted.

  “Feelings are unfamiliar for you, Talan,” Lachlan joked. Though Transfigured, Lachlan was centuries younger than Talan. He never pulled punches.

  When you lived so long, you started to learn to tell when people were lying to you or holding back. You could tell when someone disliked you, was afraid of you, or just didn’t respect you. People became somewhat predictable.

  “She’s a human,” Talan admitted.

  While it wasn’t forbidden, the Transfigured typically mated with their own. Even with the recent advances in genetic mutation, it still wasn’t an exact science. All in all, it was easier to stick with their own kind. That way, there were never any worries about what would happen when their human mate aged, got some sort of disease, or died in childbirth.

  Scientists discovered that it was much easier to turn a human into one of the Transfigured than it was to turn one of the Transfigured into a human. He imagined it would be a tough sale telling a human that while they’d live forever, they’d be required to drink human blood, live in the dark, and watch everyone they’d ever known grow old and die. It was a deal that any of the Transfigured would have turned down in a heartbeat, he suspected. They gained faster reflexes, strength, and speed, but lost so much. God, but there were days that he missed the feeling of the sun on his face.

  “Human? Is that a good idea,” Lachlan asked.

  “Probably not,” he acknowledged. “I haven’t even gott
en her to agree to go to dinner with me yet.”

  Tickled, Lachlan asked, “Did she tell you no?”

  “Not exactly. She didn’t say yes either. She’s fiercely independent,” Talan explained. He launched into the story of their meeting and subsequent encounters.

  Lachlan listened and then said, “She sounds feisty. You need that.”

  “She’s the only person besides you that doesn’t hold anything back when they talk to me. She’s better looking than you though, thankfully,” Talan said, laughing. Lachlan said nothing further, but gave him the finger in answer.

  By the time they finished the walk-through of the building, it was almost midnight. Neither of them had managed a meal prior to the tour of the new location. Talan was hungry, and instead of begging off like he normally did, he decided he’d go out with Lachlan.

  After a quick stop back at the hotel, they wandered down Ocean Boulevard. Eventually they stumbled onto a small cart that served both Cuban sandwiches and Type-O. When Lachlan ordered both a sandwich and a pint, he decided what the hell...it had been years since he’d had a sandwich. Who knows? Maybe they had improved. While they waited for the order, Lachlan stared at him as if he had sprouted another head.

  Finally he said, “What? I haven’t had a sandwich in years. I thought I’d try it.”

  A smug grin on his face, Lachlan said, “I don’t know why you stopped eating. That’s one of the best things about being one of the Transfigured. I can eat whatever I like and I’ll never get fat.”

  Talan shrugged and said, “I started to lose my taste for food a few hundred years ago. In the 1960s, I finally just gave up on it. Except for Scotch. I doubt I’ll ever give up on Scotch.”

  “I’d be worried if you did, my friend,” Lachlan said as they waited for their order.

  Moments later, they settled down on a park bench and ate. To his surprise, the sandwich was rather enjoyable. The ham had been salty, the pork rich and moist. The pickles and crispy bread had added texture and tang. Perhaps he’d have to start eating again.

  Once they had finished their meals and the sandwiches, they continued to wander down Ocean Avenue until Lachlan finally said, “Now I have a taste for Scotch.”

  They went into the first bar they could find that wasn’t blasting music so loud it could be heard outside. They ended up at a relatively empty cigar bar. After purchasing a decent cigar, out of curiosity, Talan ordered the Balvenie 12 Year that Lilly had suggested the other night.

  Lachlan laughed for a moment and then asked, “Are you in financial trouble, Tal? I can spot you some decent Scotch.”

  “One of the bartenders suggested it the other night. I’m seeing if they were correct,” Talan answered as he waited.

  “Swill,” Lachlan commented. “It had to have been Lilly. Only a woman would recommend that crap.”

  Talan merely raised an eyebrow and said, “She started with Glenmorangie Signet and Macallan 21 Year. She started talking about flavor notes. I was curious how much knowledge she had, so I asked her what she would have recommended if I didn’t own the casino.”

  Lachlan laughed and asked, “Balvenie 12 Year and what else?”

  “Laphroaig Triple Wood. She told me it was more smoky. It didn’t sound like anything I’d enjoy. This is supposed to have notes of sweet vanilla, though.”

  While Lachlan sipped his drink, Talan sniffed at his. It smelled a bit more astringent than he normally liked. He supposed that was what you got when you drank a fifteen-dollar glass of Scotch. He took a tentative sip and his eyebrows raised. Lilly was right. It wasn’t half bad. He savored the slow burn of the liquor as it slid down his throat. He really needed to move her out of that shitty bar. She was far too talented to be buried away serving whatever was on tap.

  Lachlan asked, “So?”

  In answer Talan passed him the glass. He sniffed it hesitantly and said, “Smells like lighter fluid.”

  “Taste it,” Talan offered. “It’s actually pretty decent.”

  When Lachlan sipped at the Scotch, he looked even more hesitant. His eyebrows rose as he swallowed. “Not bad. I don’t hate it.”

  Talan took the proffered glass back, then relaxed against the leather wingback chair as he thought of her. It had been five days since he’d seen her. He was glad his business was almost done. He had been to Seattle first, spending three days of negotiations with SATI, the Society for the Advancement of Transfigured Individuals, then a night lost to travel.

  He was glad Lachlan had been able to meet him down here. The build-out for the new casino was over budget and behind schedule. Between Talan’s business sense and Lachlan’s law background, they’d likely be able to make sense of what the construction company was doing. In his phone conversations, he couldn’t tell if it was just the construction firm screwing up or whether they were being taken for a ride. Now that they’d both seen it, there would be a conference call in the morning with the project manager. He looked at Lachlan, considered his drink, and asked, “So do you think they’re taking advantage or just screwing up?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, his accent even more well-pronounced than usual. “Doesn’t matter, really. The contract is ironclad. They’re not getting another dime from us until the building is done. It only hurts them to drag their feet.”

  After they finished their drinks, they headed back to the hotel. Talan bid Lachlan farewell in the hallway and stepped into his suite. He peeled out of his dress clothes and got straight into the shower. Next time he came here, he’d be better off packing shorts.

  ****

  By the time Talan got home the next night, he was wiped out. It had been a long few days between the negotiations and fixing the issues in Miami. He was more than ready for a rest. Not tonight, though. One of the bartenders at one of the clubs on premises had been caught selling drugs to an undercover police officer. He needed to speak with his bar manager and figure out what he knew. Then he needed to talk to his PR people internally to make sure the casino’s reputation wasn’t tarnished.

  He wanted to see Lilly, but there hadn’t been any damned time tonight. Her shift was over now. It would have to wait another night, he supposed. Picking up his pace, he cut through the cash office on the way to the nightclub and stopped short as someone rounded the corner and ran directly into him. He looked down to see the object of his thoughts standing before him.

  A flush on her face, she said, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”

  She must have been dropping off her till, he realized. His hands rested on her shoulders, steadying her. He barely touched her but it felt as if electricity flowed through them like a live wire. “Lilly,” he said, not wanting to move his hands.

  She nodded and asked, “Talan. How was your trip? Did you accomplish everything you needed to?”

  He slowly lowered his hands and said, “I did. I came back to a huge mess, though.”

  She winced and said, “I heard what happened. I’m sure he was making great tips in the club. What an idiot.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” he agreed. “Had you given any thought to my request?”

  She nodded again. “It makes me a little uneasy.”

  “Me too,” he admitted.

  “If we can agree to keep work separate...”

  He could tell she was incredibly nervous, and that made her all the more enchanting. Instead of jumping at the chance to date a millionaire, she was giving him conditions. She really was priceless. “Of course, Lilly,” he agreed. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “Then, yes. I’d like to go to dinner with you sometime.”

  He reached up, brushing a hand against her cheek and said, “I’ll stop by when you work next so we can pick an evening. I hate to leave you now, but…”

  “Enough said. Go handle what you need to handle.”

  “Good night, Lilly.”

  “Night, Talan,” she said, smiling softly.

  He brushed his thumb across her cheek one last time. Then he stepped
back and turned, watching as she walked away. He let out a ragged breath. She had said yes.

  Chapter Five

  When Lilly sat down at her desk, it occurred to her that she’d really put the cart before the horse here. She’d agreed to a date but she realized she knew literally nothing about the Transfigured except what she’d learned in school and what people had told her. Neither of those pictures particularly jived with what she’d come to know from Talan. In school she’d learned that essentially some dormant gene became active once they reached adulthood. At the time they thought it had something to do with the areas that had been stricken with the greatest famine.

  Suddenly, they were allergic to the sun and had to drink human blood to live. They developed super-powers. Stamina, speed. Her fifth grade teacher had explained that it was mostly for hunting purposes, even though they didn’t hunt anymore. She was a little ashamed to say that her knowledge of them as a species ended right about there. She’d never given much thought to how they ate now or how frightening it must’ve been to go through that change before there had been testing.

  Opening her laptop, she typed “resources for the Transfigured” into Google. She was immediately provided with several links. The first was an app called “Thirst.” She clicked on it and read. Apparently, there were humans that signed up on this website who were willing to be fed off. They were able to be located by Transfigured that were “their type.” There was an app that enabled the GPS from their phones to direct them to one another. Creepy but neat, she thought. She clicked the back button.

  Ah-ha, she thought as she skimmed the next link. The Transfigured Experience. This gave detailed explanations about the development of synthetic blood, explained the way the blood banks remained fully stocked, and the recommended mixture of human/animal blood versus synthetic for optimum health. Some of them drank animal blood? That was news. It seemed they really were trying to keep a healthy balance between feeding off of human blood and the synthetic stuff. She had to admire the logistics that must have gone into the development of this system.

 

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