Wicked Kiss (Nightwatchers)

by Michelle Rowen

  “Ditto,” I murmured, then cringed. “Ow, my head.”

  Her expression now was fierce and determined. Her anger toward Stephen had given her some extra strength. “Stay right where you are. I’ll use this again.”

  I flicked a wary glance at her and her brick. “Feel free. But that’s only a temporary answer. My hunger...it’s worse than ever. I need to feed.”

  “Not on me.”

  “I don’t think there’s going to be a choice soon. If I go into stasis here...a brick’s not going to stop me.” I fought to come up with a plan of action, but I was tired and weary, hungry and in pain. I didn’t want to give up, but I was worried my strength wouldn’t last much longer.

  “What about those angels and demons Stephen mentioned? You know them?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Not here.”

  I longed for Bishop to come bursting in here in a blaze of glory. I’d never been the damsel in distress type, the girl who dreamed of a guy sweeping in to save her in the nick of time like they did in corny movies. Besides, if I looked at this objectively, I wasn’t the damsel in distress in this situation—Jordan was. I was the scary thing hiding in the shadows ready to leap out and devour her.

  “I always knew,” Jordan whispered.

  I stayed in the opposite corner to her, a good ten feet away from the orbit, wishing it would make things easier. “Knew what?”

  “That there were things bigger than me in this city. Supernatural things. I always believed.” She actually smiled, a pained, scared expression. “My mom, she likes to go to psychics for readings. Does it every week. I think she does it instead of going to a shrink. With a psychic, she can blame all of her problems on otherworldly activity. But I don’t think she really knows it’s all real.”

  “But you do.”

  She hugged the brick to her chest as if it was a comforting teddy bear. “I felt it. I always thought I was a little bit psychic. Like, with ghosts and stuff. Nobody believed me when I was a kid, so I stopped talking about it. It faded to nothing for ages. Lately, though, it’s been getting worse.”

  Something about what she said felt important. Really important. “Since when?”

  “The last few weeks.”

  I pressed up against the wall. If Jordan really had psychic abilities, they’d been triggered back into action at about the same time Bishop and the rest of the team had come here and the barrier was put in place to keep all supernaturals contained in this city-size zoo. “Jordan Fitzpatrick, psychic medium to the stars.”

  She laughed drily under her breath. “You would not believe how much some of them can make. And I’m sure most of them are total frauds.”

  “I’m sure.”

  She blinked and her smile faded quickly. “I loved him.”

  I didn’t need a map to keep up with her sudden change in direction. “I know you did.”

  Her eyes grew glossy. “When he dumped me, I didn’t understand. I thought it was because he was in university and I was still in high school. But I thought what we had...even though we hadn’t dated for very long—I thought it was real. I fell for him so fast. He was so wonderful, but then I knew he had secrets he didn’t want to share with me. I tried to learn the truth, but all he did was push me away.”

  I went totally silent. It was like she was talking about me and Bishop. “Some secrets can be scary.”

  “Stephen didn’t scare me. Not then. He does now. He never did anything to hurt me before. Even when...I guess he was changed. I thought he was cheating on me. And the stupidest thing was I would have forgiven him. I would have taken him back, even after I heard he was seen making out with...” She looked at me, and clarity shone in her green eyes. “That was the time. When he kissed you. That’s when it happened.”

  I nodded, the lump in my throat too thick to swallow past.

  “That jerk,” she snarled. “He should have told me! I could have helped him before it got this bad. And now he’s out there killing people? He’s a killer, Samantha. The boy I love is a killer.” She looked at me strangely. “Why are you crying?”

  “Damn it.” I pushed away the tears streaking down my cheeks with my good hand. I hadn’t meant to let myself weaken like this, but it happened. The more she talked about Stephen, the more I thought about Bishop and how much I cared about him even after witnessing some of the horrible moments in his past.

  She looked at me with an incredulous expression. “I seriously need you not to flake out on me right now.”

  I shook my head, which had begun to cloud up again. I couldn’t pull myself out of this hole I’d found myself in. It was only getting deeper. “I can’t concentrate.”

  Her expression only grew more fierce. “You can. Now, just figure it out. From the sound of it, you’re oozing supernatural energy from your pores. You’re half demon and half angel, which is completely ridiculous, but I’m going with it, anyway. So figure out a way to get us the hell out of here so I don’t have to bash your brains in.”

  My thoughts raced, and again I kept coming back to Bishop and that connection we had—how he was able to find me, even if it was unreliable lately. But I still had mind melds with him, as strong as ever. “There’s only one way I can think of. I need to contact somebody.”

  “No cell phone, remember?”

  “No, not by phone.” I closed my eyes. “I—I think there could be another way. But it might not work. In fact, I’m pretty sure it won’t.”

  She let out a frustrated snarl. “Stop being such a damn pessimist and start trying.”

  Words to live by, courtesy of Jordan Fitzpatrick, my high school nemesis.

  In my dream about Bishop, the one where we were playing chess before things got disturbingly homicidal, he’d said something to me—that I could control our mind melds. I hadn’t believed it at the time since they were so random, so unpredictable. They came out of nowhere like being flattened by a truck.

  Then something Jordan said tweaked something in me. She’d said I was half demon and half angel. But this wasn’t totally accurate. I was the daughter of an angel and a demon. I was a nexus. I was the connection, the center point, the combination of the energies of Heaven and Hell.

  If you asked me, that sounded way more powerful.

  I’d always doubted this power, taken what came to me when it came. Seeing the searchlights was something I didn’t control. It just happened. Zapping the demons and reading their minds took effort. Other times it was effortless. If they didn’t fight me...it was effortless.

  But maybe I was the one making things difficult.

  I was certain my mind melds with Bishop were because I’d taken part of his soul—and it was still inside of me. That’s why I could see his memories if I looked in his eyes. Bishop’s soul was a bridge between us and had been ever since the kiss we shared. I needed to find that bridge and walk across it.

  And I needed to do it right now.

  Chapter 21

  I focused on that piece of Bishop that was always with me. The memory of our kiss. The warmth of his touch. The deep and endless way he looked at me, even when I was frustrating him and vice versa.

  His soul, the thing that had caused him so many problems, was beautiful—a ribbon of silver that stretched outward from me to a point in the distance I couldn’t see.

  And this I saw with my eyes closed. I’ll admit it was bizarre, but I wasn’t going to second-guess myself. It was real. It was him. I knew it.

  I held on to that ribbon of silver like a rope and let it guide me to him. I didn’t fight it, I didn’t force it. I just let it happen.

  “Hurry up,” Jordan urged.

  I pried open one eye with annoyance. “Would you give me a—”

  Snap!

  “—has to be somewhere in the city.” Bishop paced back and forth along the sidewalk. Dusk had fallen. Tall buildings surrounded him—glass, concrete, steel. Out of the corner of his eye there was traffic visible on the road
, rush hour as everyone headed home from their jobs. He was right downtown, a nameless street I was sure I’d been on a million times before.

  “Or she’s dead,” Roth said from nearby.

  Bishop turned on him. “Shut your mouth.”

  Whatever look was on Bishop’s face earned a dark glare in return. “I’m sick of shutting my mouth.”

  Bishop cast a glance over the rest of them—all were present, Roth, Cassandra, Kraven, Zach and Connor—watching the angel with varying degrees of wariness, uncertainty or disdain.

  He fixed his attention on Cassandra. “Take Roth somewhere out of my sight.”

  She approached Bishop, her expression cautious. “We’re all worried about her, you know. When she didn’t come home last night—”

  “You should have told me immediately, not waited until today.”

  She winced at the harshness of his words. “She wanted us to leave her alone. I didn’t think—”

  “That’s right. You didn’t.” He brought his hands up to his face to cover his eyes, hunching over a little. “Not thinking...can’t think...can’t keep it together. My head, it’s messed up, more and more.”

  “Come on, Bishop,” Zach said. “You’re strong. You have this. We believe in you.”

  Bishop snorted at that, a dry, humorless sound—a trait he shared with his brother. “This soul.” He took his hands from his face and clawed at his chest through his black T-shirt. “It’s destroying everything.”

  “So make yourself bleed again,” Kraven suggested. He was the farthest away, leaning casually against the glass door of a building. “If you need someone to hold the knife, I’m happy to help.”

  “Why would you say something like that?” Connor snapped. For the one who usually had all the jokes and quips, he was uncharacteristically pissed off.

  Kraven shrugged. “Sheesh. Don’t get your panties in a bunch, sunshine.”

  “Doesn’t help anymore. Nothing helps. Only...her.” Bishop fisted his hands at his sides as he turned a furious glare on his brother.

  Kraven raised his eyebrows. “Why do I get the look of death? It’s not my fault gray-girl went AWOL.”

  When Bishop swore, there was a harsh, insane edge to his voice that scared me. He was seriously losing it. And the more crazy he sounded, the more our connection began to get staticky, like a TV station with interference. “I need to find her. Can’t find her, can’t sense her—not like I used to. Where is she?”

  Cassandra tentatively moved closer and hugged Bishop against her. “We’ll find her. I promise we will.”

  Bishop looked beyond the blonde angel to Roth, who looked back at him with open animosity, his eyes glowing red in the fading light of dusk.

  So supportive, that demon. It made me want to kick him as hard as I could in his demon crotch.

  Zach and Connor stood together to Roth’s left, both watching Bishop with tense expressions.

  “What do you need us to do?” Zach asked. “Name it.”

  “Help me find her.”

  Zach frowned. “How?”

  Roth let out an exasperated groan. “Enough already. We need to hunt grays. And in case you’re forgetting, we have that other demon in town doing his best to make your precious little humans off themselves. Remember that?”

  Cassandra paled and she drew a shaky hand through her hair. “He’s right. We do need to keep focus. I’ll go with Roth and patrol. You and the others keep searching for Samantha.”

  Bishop didn’t reply for a moment, but his gaze was unflinching on both Cassandra and Roth. “Fine. Go.”

  They didn’t hesitate. With a final searching look from the angel, and an unpleasant one from the demon, the two ran down the street to disappear around the next corner.

  It was a hopeless feeling, watching this and not being able to do anything.

  But wait...maybe I was underestimating how much I could do. I’d taken hold of that piece of Bishop’s soul to lead me here—that had been intentional.

  Maybe I could intentionally communicate with him.

  “Bishop!” I sent his name through the razor-thin connection, along that silvery ribbon that joined us.

  He brought his hands up to his head, his breath ceasing completely for a moment.

  “This is ridiculous,” Kraven said. “Pull yourself together. What do you want us to do, boss? Speak now or forever hold your tongue.”

  “I thought I heard...” Bishop whispered. “No, it’s impossible.”

  I kept watching, now stunned. Had he heard me?

  “What is it?” Zach asked, drawing closer, concern in his green eyes.

  “I thought I heard...her. Calling to me.”

  Zach and Connor exchanged a look.

  “Bishop!” I said it louder, my heart pounding. “It’s me. I’m here!”

  “Oh, give me a—” Kraven began.

  “Quiet! I need to concentrate. I need to clear my head so I can know if this is real.”

  “And how are you going to do that?” Kraven asked.

  Bishop yanked the dagger from his sheath and held it against his bare arm.

  My view of what he saw flickered in that moment of craziness. For a second, I feared I was losing the connection completely.

  Connor grabbed him before he made the cut. “Don’t do this!”

  Bishop pushed him back. “I have to. It’s the only way.”

  Horror crashed over me. “Don’t you dare cut yourself!” My scream wasn’t delivered out loud. It was fully internal and my words sped along the ribbon that joined us. It was the same one that allowed me to see through his eyes—a metaphysical television cable.

  The blade stilled.

  “It’s her,” he whispered.

  “Bishop...” Zach said cautiously.

  I couldn’t believe this was really happening. He heard me!

  “Samantha?” Bishop said hoarsely. “Is that really you?”

  A million thoughts and questions raced through my mind about how this was possible and what it all meant. But none of that mattered right now. “I swear, Bishop, if you cut yourself again I’m going to kill you!”

  He snorted softly, still half-uncertain. “This is incredible. Where are you?”

  “Oh, boy,” Kraven said, coming into Bishop’s sightline to peer at his brother curiously. “He’s definitely gone completely off the deep end this time.”

  I did what I usually did when it came to the demon and ignored him. “Stephen grabbed me yesterday morning. He has me in a locked room, but I don’t know where.”

  “How can you do this? How can I hear you in my head?”

  “Now he’s talking to himself,” Kraven said, bemused.

  “Shut up,” Zach snapped at him. “You’re not helping.”

  Kraven rolled his eyes. “Whatever. He’s crazy, that’s all. Don’t you see that?”

  God, he was so frustrating. “Tell James I told him to shut the hell up.”

  Bishop snorted. “He’d just talk more.”

  The image I saw through Bishop’s eyes went staticky again, it flickered to black, to white and then back to normal. “I don’t think this is going to last much longer. Bishop, listen to me. I got to you from that piece of your soul I took—it’s still inside me. It’s what our bond is, why I can see things. It works both ways, I’m sure of it. So you need to find that, too. You have to follow it.”

  “I’ll do it. I’ll find you. I swear it.”

  “Hurry, though. I—I don’t have much time.”

  “What do you mean?” His voice turned harsh and raw. “Did that son of a bitch hurt you? I’m going to kill him.”

  “Stephen locked me in a room with someone—someone with a soul. Please, you need to find—”

  Snap!

  The thread connecting us disappeared and my mind returned fully to the small, locked room. My eyes popped open.

  “What are you doing?” Jordan demanded. “Do you really think meditation is going to help us right now?”

  I sent a look
at her across the room. “You sure better hope so.”

  So strange, but just being in Bishop’s head helped to bring me some much-needed warmth. The whole time I’d seen through his eyes I didn’t think once about the previous memory melds, not once. I wasn’t afraid of him. All I felt when I’d been in his head was that warmth. He wasn’t the same person now that he’d been back then.

  I’d told him I wanted him to stay away from me. He’d believed me, even though I’d never told a bigger lie in my life.

  “Now what?” Jordan asked, the anger fading from her voice.

  I swallowed hard. “Now we wait.”

  I concentrated on the sound of my heart beating, but I lost count at a thousand. My stomach growled. It was so empty after being locked in here for so long. Food might help a little; the more I ate the better I felt. But not enough.

  Something hit me and I opened my eyes to look down at the energy bar that had pinged off my leg.

  “Eat it,” Jordan said.

  “It won’t help.”

  “Eat it anyway.”

  I ate it. And then I tried to come up with a Plan B. Because with every minute that ticked by, my resolve and my control were slipping away like the sand in a very scary hourglass.

  My chills returned and my arms broke out in goose bumps. I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to keep from shivering.

  I could figure this out. I had to use my brain, which had rarely failed me before—not including the F I’d received on my English test. I’d assumed I knew enough. One can’t assume. One had to know for sure, because guessing could lead to failure.

  I could pretend to take Jordan’s soul. Stephen would see through the camera and he’d come in. I’d use Jordan’s brick to knock him out. Yeah, that was a plan.

  A really lousy one.

  “Come on, brain,” I mumbled under my breath. “Start thinking.”

  Sadly, it wasn’t cooperating today. A full hour had gone by and Bishop wasn’t here. We were stuck and nobody was going to rescue us.

  “I don’t like the way you’re looking at me,” Jordan said uneasily. “I swear, if you come anywhere near me, I’m clobbering you.”