by Dannika Dark
“Damn skippy. Look, I’m still working for the SF and you know they run a tight ship. Meaning no leaks. My ass is on the line by coming here, although they think I’m on vacation in Maui, which is where I should be. Instead, I’m sitting in the sinkhole of Cognito—metropolis of paranormal and freaky-deaky shit. Did you know this city is more populous with Breed than anywhere else in the nation? Cognito doesn’t stack up to a few countries in Europe, but I’m about as comfy here as a piglet in a smokehouse.”
“Look, I know the deal. You feel like your ass is on the line, and in some ways, it is. But if you get busted, then it won’t be because of me.”
“Can you guys read minds?” Oliver took off his glasses and nervously polished the lenses. “I keep going around humming this irritating ’80s song to block my thoughts—the stuff I know could start a war.”
“No, we aren’t mind readers,” Adam said, pushing away from the truck and pacing in a circle. He kicked a few pebbles and glanced up at Oliver, who was looking at Adam’s scars. His eyes quickly sailed up at a streetlamp and then back down to his shoes.
“Is it safe out here?” Oliver asked with a nervous smile, tucking his glasses in his shirt pocket beneath the windbreaker he wore.
Adam glanced around. “Some of us have exceptional hearing, but no place is safe. Inside or outside, it doesn’t matter. I can’t take you into a Breed bar that has private rooms because you’re a human. I also don’t have the authority to put you on the list. It’s doubtful any Breed are lurking about in this area; most of us prefer to hang out with our own kind. If anyone is listening, then he won’t know what the hell he’s hearing anyhow. To be honest, Oliver, most don’t give a shit about other people’s affairs. They’ve heard it all and tend to tune out anything that doesn’t directly affect them.”
Which was the truth. Vampires could hear a pin drop across a room, but he’d come to realize that half weren’t listening. A guy had once told him that after four hundred years of hearing people’s conversations, he could give a rat’s ass if they were revealing the location of the lost city of gold. Vamps worked as guards or were hired to spy on specific individuals, but most were aloof and the majority were assholes.
Oliver lifted his legs and stood up on the tailgate of the truck. “If that’s the case, then all you fuckers can go to hell!” he shouted into the darkness.
Adam yanked him down by his shirt and Oliver hit the ground hard. He didn’t have time for this shit. Adam knelt down and gave him his scary face. “Keep that in check. Just because they don’t care what comes out of your mouth doesn’t mean they won’t skin you alive for insulting them. And don’t ever throw out a challenge unless you’re ready to accept the consequences. Now get up before those bikers come over here and chain your ankles to the back of a city bus.”
Oliver dusted off one of his shoes as he stood up. “I’m only here because Knox was a guy I respected. I know he hated my ass, but he was someone I could trust. When he left, he said it wasn’t too late for me to check out before I got in too deep. But you know what? I worked my ass off to get where I am. Yeah, maybe it’s corrupt, but you’ll find that everywhere. If all the good guys bail, then what are you left with? It’s a stepping-stone and maybe that’s why I don’t feel warm fuzzies about putting my ass on the line by talking to you. But I’m here because it mattered to Knox. I won’t be square with him until I give you everything I would have given him. Run with it and do what you want, I don’t care. This is my closure, and I’m still pissed as hell a guy like him went down.” His nostrils flared and his lips formed a grim line as he kicked the ground hard.
“Knox died saving his woman. He died for the one and only thing that mattered to him.”
Oliver’s face softened and he tipped his head to the side. “Guess that counts for something then.”
The door to the club flew open and a swell of laughter made them turn around. It looked like the bikers had gone inside and a few girls floated out, lighting up cigarettes. An angelic voice sang a Rolling Stones ballad—her voice floating on the breeze and echoing through the parking lot. It made Adam shudder with the haunting memory of Knox. He pushed those thoughts aside and pulled a pack of smokes out of his pocket.
“Tell me about Cedric.”
“I did some sniffing around, but I can’t find anything else on the guy. Knox thought the seller on our side was dealing directly with someone he knew on your side. Didn’t tell me his name, but I guess you probably know. He guessed wrong and it looks like Cedric is acting as the middleman, either dealing to your big honcho or selling on the black market. I don’t know, the black market theory would mean more buyers and more of that shit floating around in your world, which it’s not. Knox didn’t seem to think anyone else was getting their hands on the metal except his guy, so that means Cedric must work for him. The name doesn’t ring a bell?”
Adam’s finger involuntarily ran along the groove of his scar that cut across his jaw. “I don’t know. I’ve heard the name, but it doesn’t mean anything. There could be a million guys named Cedric.”
Oliver watched him take a long drag from his cigarette and tuck the soft pack inside his jacket.
“That metal is what some of our weapons are made of. You knew that, right?”
Adam nodded. He knew. While he hadn’t known it at the time, the Special Forces had specially armed them to take out Breed. They were the guinea pigs for using some of that experimental weaponry.
“Didn’t take me long to figure out something wasn’t right with the stuff we were issued,” Oliver said proudly, sitting on the bed of the truck again. He took his glasses out of his pocket and slipped them onto his face. “They’re not all the same. Someone is still refining and trying to make improvements. It nulls some of your gifts, but it doesn’t work the same on everyone. And I’m talking from an individual basis, not just by Breed. Some are immune. Did I mention the strength wears down over time until it’s nothing more than a scrap of metal? Maybe that’s what those douchebags are trying to remedy. They’d probably love nothing more than to sell this shit to you guys so you can kill yourselves and save them the trouble.”
Adam flicked his cigarette and it landed beside a tire. “And we’d probably do just that. You can’t find out who’s selling and stop them?”
He shrugged. “Could be one guy or maybe a whole bunch. It would take time for me to dig, and the problem with snooping is sometimes you get your nose too deep in someone’s crack. Worry about who’s actually creating the shit—that’s who we need to put a stop to. But you can bet they’re protected and if someone goes after them, that someone is going to end up paddling in the middle of the Pacific Ocean wearing shark bait as a floatation device.”
“Were the exchanges on a regular basis?”
Oliver scratched the patch of dark blond hair on his jaw. “Cedric’s name came up on one file and nowhere else. What I can give you is the information included in that entry.”
Adam folded his arms. “How much?”
Oliver grinned sheepishly. “Look, it’s a favor for Knox that I’m even here, but I wouldn’t mind tucking away a little cash on the side for a trip to Maui. How about ten grand and I’ll give you a license plate?”
“Deal.”
Adam didn’t hesitate to answer. He had the funds and that license plate number was enough to track down the vehicle, even if Cedric no longer owned it. He couldn’t have asked for a better clue aside from the man’s last name. Cedric could be a false name or an alias for all he knew.
“Sweet. We’re doing this in cash because shit gets found out when you start moving large sums of money around. You got that on you?”
“I can get it.”
Oliver hopped off the truck and the door to the club swung open again. This time a rowdy gang of men stumbled out and disappeared around the left side of the building.
“Tomorrow?”
Adam hesitated. “I have plans tomorrow night.” That damn dinner with Justus. “How about Sunday?”
/>
“Your call, but I’m heading back Monday morning, so get it together. You know my number. Adios.”
Oliver hustled out of there and vanished around the street corner. Adam looked at the cars around him, crammed in like sardines. Some had illegally parked and he guessed the overflow went to the back of the building.
A flare of energy made the hair on the back of his neck bristle. A Mage was on the premises. Adam concealed his light and hustled toward his bike. The music inside the bar changed to a steady beat, the kind that garnered a flood of cheers and clapping.
Rock music blared from the open door. Adam threw his leg over the bike and before he put on his helmet, he caught a glimpse of a blond woman flying out the main door. Her boots stomped down the wooden steps and the figure disappeared around the side of the building. Someone had pissed her off.
A sound catapulted him off his bike and he tossed the helmet on the ground, heart pounding against his chest. It was a muffled squeal—barely audible. Adam never dismissed something that caused him alarm, so he jogged in the direction the woman had gone.
His throat became dry and his palms sweaty as he neared the left corner of the building. A dilapidated fence ran along the outer edge, the wood so old part of it was rotting away. He could only hear his motorcycle boots crunching on the gravel, so he paused for a moment and cocked his head.
He heard the sound of low murmurs and someone making a hushing noise. It could be that he was about to interrupt someone having a good time, but it didn’t feel right.
Adam turned the corner and walked up on a scene that made his fists clench. He could barely contain the Mage energy surging to his fingertips.
It was her.
The girl with the acoustic guitar he’d once seen marching onto a stage the same night Knox was murdered. It was her angelic voice that had filled the parking lot during those last moments. It was her voice he often heard in his dreams before they turned into nightmares. It was her voice that had sung just moments ago—the wavy-haired girl who’d stormed out the main door.
A guy with a black goatee was balancing on one arm and unzipping his pants with the other. Two men were holding her arms, eyes ripe with wicked intentions.
Her lovely hair was splayed across the dirt. She wasn’t struggling.
Adam’s lips peeled back and he approached with wrath burning his veins like venom. A dull roar filled his head as he saw their mouths moving, but all he heard was the pounding of his own heart.
“Get away from her!” he shouted. His body trembled with the urge to rush them, but they outnumbered him and were too close to the girl. It was against the law to kill a human or to reveal he was a Mage, so the ass-kicking that was about to ensue was going to be nothing but fists and fury.
“Why don’t you mind your own goddamn business,” the man on the left said. “Take a walk.”
Adam shucked off his coat and the winter air nipped at his arms. Without missing a beat, he stalked forward and the three men rose to their feet.
The girl did not. The closer Adam got, the more he could see her swollen face; they had knocked her unconscious. The wind blew up her turquoise dress, and to the right, he noticed a guitar propped against the brick wall.
The big guy with the goatee stood astride the young woman while the men on either side of him began to spread apart.
Adam moved to the left like a torpedo. He spun around, bent low, and delivered a solid kick to the face of one of the thugs. It knocked the man back with such force that he hit the wall and collapsed.
The dirtbag on the right moved in, pulling a switchblade from his pocket.
“You got big fuckin’ balls to be walking up on private business. Now I’m going to take this knife and add to that collection you got going on all over your face.”
Maybe that would have scared most men, but Adam didn’t blink. His heart rate slowed down to a steady beat as it always did before a fight. It’s how he kept calm and thinking clearly.
The man lunged and swiped his blade, cutting Adam’s arm. Blood oozed brightly to the surface and trickled down to his fingertips. Adam seized the man by the wrist and snapped back his arm, forcing him to drop the knife. He threw a series of violent punches and the human bent over and vaulted up with a surprising right uppercut. Pain exploded in Adam’s left eye.
“Sonofabitch!” the man shouted, leaning to the right and spitting. “I think he broke my tooth.”
Adam swept out his leg and knocked the weakling off his feet. He picked up the blade and seized the man by the throat, pressing the sharp knife against his fleshy cheek.
“You think my scars are funny?” With a slow stroke, Adam pressed the cold blade against his face, penetrating the top layer of skin and drawing a little blood. When the man’s eyes went wide with fear, Adam stood up and watched him scurry backward until he hopped to his feet and ran.
He blinked a few times, feeling a throb radiating across his cheekbone.
“I see you’re badass with a knife,” Goatee said.
Adam flicked his wrist and the knife punched through the dirt. “You think having your friends pin down a young girl while you force yourself on her makes you a man?”
The deviant stroked his goatee and glanced indifferently at the unconscious woman. “You think I give a shit about her? That little whore may have the crowd wrapped around her finger when she’s on stage, but I know all about girls like her. She thinks she’s too good for everyone when she’s nothing but white trash.”
“Musta hurt like a bitch when she turned you down,” Adam growled, circling to the right to draw the man away from the woman.
The man stepped forward. “What’s it to you? I suppose you think you can get a piece of ass like that on your own? Think again,” he said, raking her over with his eyes. Then his voice lowered and he raised his sharp eyes to Adam. “You can have a turn; I won’t judge.”
He was serious. This sonofabitch thought he could tempt Adam to join him in his sadistic game of rape.
That’s when all reason went out the window. Adam didn’t care about Mage rules anymore, he flashed forward and knocked the guy out with a blast of energy to the chest. Adam refrained from a deathblow, but the strike was powerful enough to make it feel like a truck had hit him.
“What the… umph,” Goatee grunted, unable to speak through his groans and rapid breaths. He’d received the equivalent of an electric shock with CPR paddles, but he still staggered to his feet.
“Want more?” Adam shoved him in the chest with more power, charging up his light for another strike.
With a shaky hand, Goatee pulled a switchblade from his back pocket and when his lecherous eyes fell on the girl, Adam didn’t hold back.
He laid his fist into Goatee’s face and heard bones crack. The knife dropped to the ground and when Adam held out his hands to give him another painful shock, the man stumbled backward and staggered toward the parking lot.
Adam dropped to his knees and cradled the girl’s neck. She looked young, maybe in her early twenties, but it was hard to tell in the dim alley. Adam was a Healer and while his gift worked on most Breeds, it didn’t work on humans.
He had never seen her face up close because when they’d first met, she’d been crouched on the floor beneath him. But he remembered with perfect clarity when she took charge of the stage with her guitar. Adam had noticed how expressive her features were—she’d radiated life. Her full lips were tinted with the palest of pinks and her most noticeable attribute was her hair—beautiful, carefree waves with a few braids woven in, and not the color women got from a bottle but a warm shade of blond. The cut on her lip and the fresh bruise marred those features only a fraction.
With the gentlest of ease, he pulled her up to a sitting position. Her head rolled to the side and she sank against his chest. He thought about calling the police and leaving her in the alley, but that was out of the question. No way in hell was he going to leave her this way. He hadn’t done it with Silver and he sure as hell wasn’t
about to start now. If he stayed at her side until the cops arrived, they would question him and want a statement.
That’s when things could get sticky. Novis had warned him that getting involved with humans left fingerprints. Even though the report would go under his alias name, Lucan Riddle, it would flag Breed authorities. If someone ran an investigation, it would bring trouble right to Novis’s front door and jeopardize his position on the Council.
Adam cursed under his breath. He glanced around and noticed a ring of shiny keys with a blue, Earth-shaped ball attached to the end. There were only three keys on the chain and the car key looked like it belonged to an older model. She must have parked her car in the back.
Adam tugged the hem of her dress down until it covered her legs, then he got up and grabbed his jacket from the concrete. After draping it over her chest to keep her warm, he lifted the girl into his arms and walked toward the back of the building. Adam began testing the key in a few of the older cars without success.
“Surely not,” he murmured, staring at a VW van that looked like it had traveled to the future in a time machine. It had a white top and lime-green bottom.
The key slid in the lock and he opened up the back doors. Wide cushions covered the floor and a pea-green blanket was neatly folded by the door.
Adam carefully laid her down in the back and wrapped her up in the blanket. He found a pillow and tucked it beneath her head. Anger flared at the idea of her sleeping in the back of a van. By all the personal effects tucked in corners and the boxes of food, it looked like home sweet home.
“No, no, no,” she mumbled.
“Shhh.” He brushed her silky hair away from her face until she no longer stirred.
Maybe he should have called the cops or left her in the van to freeze, but that’s not how it all went down.
A gust of wind blew from behind and he slammed the doors shut, twirling the keys in his hand as he lifted his eyes to the sky. The low clouds were breaking up and he could see a few stars blinking from behind. It made him think about all the events in his life that had led him here. Had he never chased down Silver the night they’d met, he would have never become a Mage. Knox wouldn’t have died. Then again, Silver might have. What was the purpose of his life, and why was he standing in an empty parking lot, putting an unconscious woman into a van?