Dark Light (The Dark Light Series)

by S. L. Jennings

  Latest victim local carnival fortune teller

  Jared and I look at each other with shock and horror etched on our faces. The fortune teller was killed and I know that I had something to do with it. I can’t help but feel responsible for her death. She knew what I was, she could tell. She was genuinely scared of me and had every right to be. Her involvement with me pretty much put the nail in her coffin.

  “Says here she died sometime last night. Maybe she played that prank on the wrong person? Poor old woman,” Jared mutters, but I can hardly make sense of what he’s saying.

  “Jared, I’ve gotta go,” I say gathering my books and purse.

  I’ve got to get away from here; no one is safe with me around. First Summer and now the fortune teller. Seems like anyone I have an issue with ends up dead. Great, the detectives will surely have a field day with this.

  “What? What about class?” Jared is confused at my reaction. He is still thinking this is just a coincidence, not quite adding up all the facts.

  “Take notes for me. I have to get home.”

  I dart out of the building and don’t stop until I am safely in my car. I look around me cautiously as I pull out of the parking lot, making sure that I’m not being followed. When I pull up to my house, I’m panting rapidly as if I’ve run the entire way.

  “Fuck!” I scream, slapping my palms against the steering wheel. How could I have been so stupid? How could I let this happen? People are dying because of me and all I can think about is my insignificant-ass love life. This has to end now.

  I run into the kitchen hoping that Donna skipped her 11:30 class but come up disappointed. Could my parents be next? Oh no, my friends! They would be so caught off guard they wouldn’t even have a chance to defend themselves. And Dorian. Oh God, not Dorian. I pull out my cell phone and begin keying a mass text message to my friends.

  To Morgan, Jared, James, Miguel, 11:46 A.M.

  -Are you all ok? Please respond ASAP.

  I receive a chorus of chimes a moment later.

  From James, 11:47 A.M.

  -All good here. You?

  From Morgan, 11:47 A.M.

  -Headed to work. Later, bitch ;)

  From Miguel, 11:48 A.M.

  -Some of us do have class to attend, Gabs. LOL

  From Jared, 11:49 A.M.

  -What’s going on, Gabs? You’ve really got me worried about you. Call me later, ok?

  Good. They’re all safe and sound for now.

  To Morgan, Jared, James, Miguel, 11:50 A.M.

  -Just be careful, guys.

  I look back down at my cell phone. Chris can’t keep his cell on him at work and I know Donna keeps hers in a locker at the gym. Now Dorian. But how do I do that without making him feel like I’m checking on him? Yes, he said I wasn’t just some casual fling but he also didn’t say what I am to him. I could very well be just some chick he’s banging for the time being. I bite the bullet and begin to construct a text message.

  To Dorian, 11:53 A.M.

  -Thank you for breakfast. And dinner. And dessert :) Hope you have a great day.

  There. I know I shouldn’t be worried about morning-after text etiquette during a time like this, but there’s something about Dorian that makes me overly aware and self-conscious.

  Ding! Ding!

  From Dorian, 11:55 A.M.

  -How about lunch? I’m sure dessert is appropriate then too.

  Oh, what I wouldn’t give to let Dorian make me forget the knowledge of the fortune teller’s death. But now more than ever, I have to be cautious about our encounters. Maybe I should warn him so he can be aware and make the decision to stick around for himself.

  To Dorian, 11:57 A.M.

  -Gotta work in a couple hours. Maybe meet me at Starbucks later so we can talk?

  -Sure. Dumping me already?

  Dorian’s playfulness makes a smile spread across my face. Even his texted words work magic on my mood.

  To Dorian, 11:59 A.M.

  -You couldn’t get rid of me even if you tried. See you around 6.

  Knowing that all my friends are safe for now fractionally eases my mind. I know I can’t keep tabs on them throughout the day and I’m just as defenseless as they are, but I would never forgive myself if something happened to them. And I would definitely be out for blood as soon as I ascend.

  When I arrive at the mall a few hours later, I’m determined to put the day’s disclosures behind me. I smile and greet my coworkers then head to the back stockroom to stow my belongings and put on my nametag.

  “Feeling better, Gabi-girl?” Felicia beams. Sheesh, does this chick have an OFF switch?

  “Yes, thanks. Hope it wasn’t too busy.”

  “Oh, it was fine. Nothing we couldn’t handle. Pretty dull actually. I bet people are scared to go out with that killer on the loose.”

  The reminder brings it all back to the surface. Knowing that a Dark One is killing innocents because of me is just too hard to forget. I nod at Felicia politely then head to straighten some clothing racks. So much for my positive outlook.

  By 5:50 P.M., I am practically running out of the store. If I fold another pair of jeans or hang another shirt without caffeine, I will surely strangle someone. I head to the stockroom bathroom to check my hair and apply a fresh coat of lipgloss. I’ve upgraded my outfit from this morning with a knit top and my favorite boots and curled the ends of my long ponytail with the prospect of seeing Dorian. Satisfied with my appearance, I head down to Starbucks, almost skipping with each step.

  Dorian is sitting at our usual table and I smile at the magnificent sight of him. He’s still dressed in his dark suit, though he’s ditched his tie and has unfastened the top buttons of his white dress shirt. He’s has two disposable cups again and I resist the urge to grab him by the face and plant a wet kiss on his lips.

  “Hey,” I smile ruefully sitting in the chair across from him. He still makes me so anxious; it’s as if I can’t gather the right words when he’s around.

  “Hey yourself,” Dorian jibes, sliding one of the cups towards me.

  “Thanks,” I say, taking a sip of the hot latte. Mmmmm.

  “So you wanted to talk?” he says with a raised eyebrow. God, he’s sexy when he does that.

  “Try not to look so damn hot and maybe I’ll be able to get my head together,” I say before I can stop myself. The remark causes Dorian’s eyes to flash momentarily, obviously taken aback. He must’ve been prepared for one of those talks. “It’s nothing bad, Dorian. Well, not for you, I hope. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

  “Oh? How about from the beginning?” His shoulders have obviously relaxed and he sips his own beverage.

  The beginning? Absolutely not. But I have to tell him something. I sigh heavily and let my shoulders slump. Just having to say it out loud makes my stomach snarl with worry.

  “I think someone is trying to hurt me. And I’m afraid they’ll go after my friends to get to me,” I say lowly. I can’t even bring my eyes up to meet his in fear that he’ll laugh in my face at the outrageous claim.

  “I see,” Dorian says stiffly. “Have you told anyone else?” The question causes my eyes to dart to his. He’s serious. He believes me without question.

  “No,” I shake my head. “I just thought you should know. Being around me could put you in danger. And I wanted you to be able to make the decision whether or not I’m worth the trouble.” I can feel a lump forming in my throat at the thought of losing Dorian and I take a sip of hot coffee in an attempt to wash it down.

  “Don’t worry about me. You’re going to have to scare me off some other way,” he smirks. I am genuinely relieved and overjoyed that Dorian is willing to stick around, though I wish he’d take heed. “Do you have any idea who might want to hurt you?”

  “Not really. And I don’t know how I can keep my friends out of the crosshairs without revealing too much.”

  “Don’t worry about them,” Dorian shakes his head. “I’ll take care of it. And don’t let th
is get to you. No one is going to hurt you while I’m around.”

  His bravery is endearing, though I know he doesn’t stand a chance against the Dark force that is hunting me. I wish I could warn him but I know it would mean trouble for us both. And I refuse to bring that to his doorstep.

  “Thanks, Dorian. But I don’t know what you could really do in this situation. Let’s just say it goes beyond anything I could ever fathom. Beyond our worst fears, our worst nightmares.” I know I need to shut up right now before Dorian starts to probe for more information.

  Dorian nods, slightly smirking. Does he think I’m joking? I begin to feel my face heat from his lack of confidence in my admonition.

  He runs his hand through his black locks, disturbing them from their once neat style. I like it better like this anyway. Makes him look like the bad boy Dorian that likes to give it to me rough and hard. The heat that began to flush my face makes its way down south.

  “I had been living my nightmares, Gabriella. Finding you has freed me from them. No one is going to take you from me.” His words are so earnest and unexpected, I can’t stop my hand from reaching out and touching his. He turns his hand and lets his thumb caress the inside of my palm. “And your friends will be safe. I’ll see to it personally.”

  I really don’t know how to respond to Dorian’s admission. He seems so confident and protective, I don’t have the heart to tell him that he doesn’t stand a chance against my supernatural assailant. I need to just let him believe that he can help and try to keep him as far away from my secret life as possible.

  “Thank you for the massage. It was the best one I’ve ever had. My neck isn’t sore at all,” I say slyly, hoping to steer the conversation into less somber territory.

  “What a pity. I like to make you sore,” Dorian remarks. His blue eyes smolder under his dark lashes, and I feel the familiar throbbing down below. The way my body reacts to him always surprises me.

  “I like it too,” I murmur. Wow, I’m getting pretty bold. And what’s even more shocking, I really do like it when Dorian gets aggressive with me sexually. I’ve never been into that kind of thing with anyone else, but with Dorian it just seems so damn erotic.

  “Careful, little girl. I might take you right here on this table if you keep this up. And I won’t care who watches.”

  “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I giggle. Giggle? Geez, get a grip, Gabs. “As much as I’d love to stay here and talk dirty with you, I do have a job I have to get back to.”

  “Will I see you later?” Knowing that Dorian wants to be with me as much as I want to be with him brings an involuntary smile to my face.

  “I wish I could. But I probably should go home tonight. Actually, for now, let’s just shoot for Thursday night. I don’t want my parents to start asking questions.” Plus I have to try to keep my distance for your own safety and my heart’s sake. Not to mention Morgan is not too pleased with me always being unavailable.

  Dorian nods with understanding. “Good idea. It’s nearly impossible to focus on handling the task I was sent here for when all I can think about is bedding you.”

  Good, at least I’m not the only one getting distracted. “So how’s that coming anyway? Any closer to achieving what you’d hoped for?”

  “Oh, Gabriella, closer than you could imagine,” he replies icily.

  His moods are an anomaly; one minute he’s joking and the next he’s so cold it’s alarming. I sip the last of my coffee, unable to come up with something to say in response. Maybe that’s a sore subject for him and something I should steer clear from in the future.

  “Well, I better get back to work. So Thursday, right?” I say gathering my purse and empty cup.

  “Sure I can’t persuade you to come see me sooner?” Dorian asks. His tongue skims his bottom lip suggestively and I have to fight the urge to suck that very same lip. He’s so damn sexy; no one has ever aroused me with just a look. Sex appeal like that should be bottled and sold.

  “You’re dangerous, you know that?” I snicker, shaking my head. “You’re making me rethink all my decisions and do things I swore I’d never do.”

  “Dangerous? Me?” Dorian feigns offense. “Well, that makes two of us. Just think about it. If you feel like you want to see me, don’t fight it. Don’t fight what your body needs.”

  Dorian’s words hit me like a ton of bricks. I know he’s right; I shouldn’t fight what I feel. But then again, is this only physical for him? Does he want to keep this strictly about sex? I know I told myself that this was how it should be. It’s the only logical way we could have any type of relationship. And this is the time to be logical. I have to be smart about this and stick to the game plan. Throwing feelings into the mix will only blur the line between sexual and emotional.

  “I’ll think about it, Dorian. Thanks for the coffee.”

  Dorian stands as I do, like the perfect gentleman that he is. I think to step forward and stand on my tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips, but that would be leading with my heart. Before I can overthink it anymore, Dorian gently cradles my face and brings it up to his. He pauses just as our mouths are centimeters apart and lets his blue eyes melt into mine. They are burning white hot, becoming the lightest, iciest blue I’ve ever seen. A surge of invisible electricity radiates from them and sends tiny shockwaves throughout my body. They kiss every nerve ending, leaving a prickly trail of pleasure that leads to my own pulsing current down below.

  Just as quickly as he grabbed me, Dorian releases my face and takes a cautionary step back. I’m panting, tingling, disoriented. My hunger for him is suddenly raging like a wildfire and only he can extinguish it. I will writhe and burn until he puts it out. I look up at Dorian with bewildered eyes.

  “Go to work,” Dorian commands. His voice is aged, archaic again.

  I can’t find my own voice. I can’t even form an intelligible response. I simply turn in a robotic fashion and walk out of the coffee shop, not stopping until I reach my store. It’s as if I am having an out of body experience. I can see myself; I can comprehend my actions. But I have no control. And I don’t want it. I’ve relinquished it all to Dorian.

  Only when I’ve entered the stuffy stockroom do I begin to feel like myself again. I retreat to the tiny bathroom to assess my appearance. I look the same, though my eyes are wild with confusion. I splash some water on my face and finger-comb my hair, in hopes of bringing back some normalcy. When I step back onto the sales floor, the tingles have subsided and I feel coherent again. What the hell was that?

  The evening drones on in slow motion. I can’t quite seem to wrap my head around what happened with Dorian. Every one of his touches is like a shock to my system. But he didn’t even touch me; what could have caused that rush of intense energy? All I know is that my body is craving him. I need release and no one can deliver that better than Dorian. He knows what he’s doing. This was no accident. I told him I couldn’t see him and he somehow awakened a beast within me, making it so I can’t not stay away. I can’t let him win. If I give in this time, he’ll know he can manipulate me whenever he wants. But would that be the worst thing in the world? Being manipulated by Dorian when the payoff is so damn good? I can live with being used for sex by him, can’t I?

  No. This is what he wants. He wants me to crave him. He wants to constantly be on my mind so I give into my carnal desires. This is all part of his game; unraveling me to the point where I need him to stay sane. He wants me totally dependent on him. I wasn’t lying- he really is dangerous. If I’m going to maintain control of my faculties, I need to be able to fight fire with fire. I pull out my cell phone and head back to the stockroom.

  To Dorian, 8:26 P.M.

  -Nice try. See you Thursday.

  To Morgan, 8:26 P.M.

  -Can you meet me tomorrow at the mall? Taking my break around 6.

  -Sure. I’ll be there.

  Great, now I can put my plan into action. No one does hot and sexy like Morgan.

  Ding! Ding!

&n
bsp; From Dorian, 8:27 P.M.

  -Nice try? What do you mean?

  I decide not to play into Dorian’s text, though my fingers are itching to key in a response. I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’s ruffled me once again. Instead, I busy my hands by folding a new shipment of denim until it’s time to go home. Only a few more days and then it’s time to show Dorian the magic in me.

  Chapter Nineteen

  These past couple of days will go down in history as the hardest, most emotional, sexually frustrating days ever. Every night, another vivid, sensual dream that leaves me throbbing and wet by morning. The days are no better- walking around like a zombie, feeling so sluggish and lethargic as if I haven’t slept in weeks. I can’t concentrate in class, no matter how hard I try and have even been caught zoning out by my instructors when called upon to answer questions.

  “Damn, Gabs, are you sure you’re ok? You haven’t been yourself all week,” Jared asks, obviously exasperated by my dispirited state. It’s Thursday. Finally. And he’s had to deal with my dejected disposition long enough.

  “I’ll be fine by tonight.” I know exactly what’s wrong. I need Dorian. This goes so far beyond wanting him. My body literally needs him.

  “Good. I’m getting tired of seeing you moping around like this. It’s downright depressing to watch,” Jared chuckles. “Hey, I know what’ll cheer you up. There’s an open air concert this weekend. Over at Palmer Park. Bunch of different bands, food, drinks. Come with me.”

  “Oh Jared, I’d love to but I think I have to work,” I lie. I’ve never purposely lied to Jared but I can’t tell him about Dorian. He’d flip, especially since I turned him down. That would surely put the nail in the coffin of our friendship.

  “That sucks. Oh well, maybe next time.”

  Work is like being stuck in quicksand and I have half a mind to tell Felicia that I’m sick just so I can go home early. But since I changed my schedule to free up my weekends, I just have to suck it up and try to get through the long, torturous hours until closing time. All is prepped at home and I just have to shower and leave. I’ve even prepared a story for my parents about a weekend trip to Denver with Morgan just in case I stay the entire weekend at the Broadmoor. I’m getting ahead of myself. Dorian and I agreed on Thursday. Who’s to say he won’t kick me out Friday morning?