Night Series Collection: Books 1 and 2

by RS Black

  I laughed and the sound was caustic to my ears. “For all I know you’re going to try to kill me too. Oh wait, you already tried once. Who are you?” I balled my hands into fists. “You’re no angel, I know that.”

  I could feel his anger; it lifted the fine hairs on my arms and the back of my neck.

  After a lengthy pause he finally said, “Who I am doesn’t matter. What I know does.”

  “What do you know? Tell me. Did you know she was going to make me turn against one of mine? Did you know the order planned this whole charade? Just what do you know?”

  “We must learn about the prophecy. You will help me.”

  I chuckled. “Kill me, Gray Man. If you think threats will work, think again. I’m dead inside. I’ve got nothing left to lose.”

  He moved closer, so close his faceless body hovered inches from mine. I stared into a yawning chasm of shadow and twin dots of burning light. The power emanating from him rolled through the house like thunder.

  “If you think losing that boy is the worst it can get, then you’re sorely mistaken.” The gravel quality of his voice rubbed against my body like sandpaper.

  My nostrils flared and what I felt then wasn’t hot anger, but the cold; the kind of cold anger that settles deep and burns brighter. “What do you mean?”

  He stepped back and I gasped as the pressure against my body finally eased. I rubbed my aching hips.

  “You’re smart. Figure it out.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek, suppressing the urge to run over to Grace, straddle her and stab her through the heart until the hurt inside my own stopped.

  “Even if I do it, she’ll know. She’ll know I went to Hell and she’ll know I know the truth now. I can’t work with her, everything’s shot.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “When you leave I will seal the portal. She’ll have no way of contacting Chaos or Wrath. The truth will remain with us.”

  Hissing, I narrowed my eyes. “How do you know about Chaos? Were you there? Did you know she was planning this?”

  He was silent so long I thought maybe he’d refuse to answer. “I suspected for a while now that she was working outside of the order’s directives.”

  Outside of the order’s… my thoughts took a swift detour. “What a second? Are you saying she’s rogue?”

  His silence spoke volumes.

  “Dammit!” I snarled, but the fury soon gave way to laughter. And not because this was funny. It so wasn’t. This was irony in its purest form. She’d set me up. Made me track down a rogue neph when all along she was the double agent.

  “So the order has no clue what they’re little miss sunshine is up to? How the hell does this happen?”

  “That’s what we’re going to find out. But to do it, we have to work together.”

  It all sounded so easy. “Yeah, and what do you get out of this? And don’t lie, because we both know this isn’t altruism on your part.”

  “I could tell you many things, Pandora. But you’re too smart to believe any of them. You have a partner in this.”

  I snorted. “Partner. Yeah. Weren’t you the one telling me to trust no one? You’ve also tried to kill me, so you tell me… why should I trust you?”

  “Because I can be your greatest ally, or your worst enemy. The choice is yours.”

  Shaking my head with disgust I stared at the shadow swathed figure, mentally running through many different scenarios. Why I should and shouldn’t trust him. I barely trusted Luc at times, now here was a creature that I didn’t know, one so powerful I couldn’t afford to make my enemy telling me to pick him.

  “So you’re telling me you have my nuts in my vice and if I don’t chose you you’ll chop them off, that it?”

  This time there would be no answer from him. The infinite black depths that was the mysterious gray man stared back at me.

  “You make me sick.” Swiping up my knife, I walked away, not bothering to look back. To hell with all of them.

  There was only one person left in the world who’d I’d die for. And though it was only one, his was a life I would never gamble. It wasn’t worth it. I’d fight with the gray man if that’s what it took to take Grace down, but I was a demon too. If he screwed me, I’d use every weapon in my arsenal to bring him down with her.

  I ported back to the carnival. The machines had been taken down already. Aside from a few winking trailer lights, it was dark. A blood red moon hung heavy in the sky.

  I kicked at a rock with the toe of my boot and watched it skip across the blades of grass.

  I glanced at Luc’s trailer and looked away. I didn’t want to go there. I hugged my arms to my chest, never feeling as alone as I did right then. What was I gonna do?

  “Pandora?” Vyxyn’s soft voice cut through my melancholy.

  Her hair was powder blue and caught up in a short ponytail. She was dressed in a Hello Kitty tank and shorts sleep set. She looked ready for bed. I wondered if she’d been looking out her window waiting for my return.

  “I know I always give you crap,” she said, “but mostly it was because I always thought you too weak.”

  I snorted and glanced away. Like that was a shock.

  She touched my shoulder. “I never thought you’d kill Kemen.” She said it with respect, and a touch of awe. As if she was seeing me for the first time.

  “How dare you?” I slapped her hand away, lashing out at her with all my bottled frustration. “I loved him. I didn’t kill him for fun. Screw you.”

  I shoved past her and ran with no destination in mind. In Vyx’s own way she’d tried to show me respect, make an apology and any other time I would have been able to understand that. But not now. Not while my heart still bled and grieved for a man I’d never see, never hold again.

  I’d loved Kemen. He’d been family in every sense of the word. Blood or not, I’d loved him. Everybody else had put up with him. But to me, he’d been special. Perfect.

  I stopped, suddenly realizing where I was headed. I stood in front of his silver bullet trailer. My hand trembled as I pushed open his door.

  His clothes still lay in piles. Video games and equipment scattered all over the place. On the table sat the wire, it didn’t look like he’d even touched it after our talk yesterday.

  Had it only been yesterday morning since I’d last seen his smiling face?

  Walking over to one of the piles of clothes, I grabbed a t-shirt and pulled it on. It smelled like him. Deep and masculine, I breathed it in.

  I still felt him. So alive. In this place. All around. Everywhere I looked, I saw him. It helped.

  I moved to his bedroom. Lying on the carpet atop his pile of books was my guitar. I’d forgotten to take it home the other night.

  Grabbing it, I sat down cross-legged on the bed and started tuning, tightening the metal strings until they rang clean and pure.

  I plucked at the strings, following the melody where it led and I found myself back at the song I’d sang the night I’d first met the priest.

  My voice cracked, and many times I had to stop. But I forced myself to finish it, not because I wanted to play the part of the martyr. No, I did this for one reason.

  Because I couldn’t go to the funeral and this was my way of saying goodbye.

  The last note hung in the air like a delicate strand of spider silk. I hugged the guitar to me and the last tear I would cry for Kemen tracked slowly down my cheek.

  Grace had made the biggest mistake of her life screwing with me and someday she’d live to regret it.

  “I love you, Sandman. I promise. I’ll make them all pay.”

  Finis: The End is just the Beginning

  Outside, shadow is slinking. I feel like something is watching me, stalking me… my hand is trembling as I try to jot this down. There are only so many places I can hide, eventually they will find me. I can only hope that it will not happen until I tell the whole story. You see what Grace did, Wrath luring me into Hell… that’s nothing compared to the rest of my story. The zombies�
�� my God, what I found there. What he did to me there, who the Gray Man really is… there is so much more to say, to write, but I think I hear something, it’s closer now. I have to go. But just know this, this story is far from over…

  All Hallows Night

  Secrets and truths, lies and red herrings… which is which? That’s what Pandora’s trying to figure out. Ever since the death of her best and probably only friend—at her own hands, no less—she’s not sure who to trust. The Priest is dead. The Gray Man is… she’s not even sure what. Luc, well… Luc is Luc.

  The Order has sent her deep into the heart of Mexico to investigate a potential zombie uprising. She arrives at the start of the Día de los Muertos festival—a celebration for the dead—and immediately things don’t feel right to her. For one, bodies (the living kind) keep disappearing. They’re not being kidnapped—no, if only things were that simple. They’re literally there one second, gone the next, and she’s not sure what to make of it. On top of that, mums are floating all over the place. Is that merely symbolism associated with the festival, or is it a hint of something far more sinister?

  In this explosive sequel to Crimson Night, the USA Today bestseller, an old ally returns and a shocking truth is revealed. One that will turn her investigation into the Order’s duplicity on its head and make Pandora question everything she ever thought she knew…

  Dedication

  To say that I’m pleased at the way Pandora and her merry band have been received would be a serious understatement. I’m so thankful to each and every one of you readers that helped make Crimson Night the success that it’s been. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

  Chapter 1

  “You’ve changed,” Luc murmured. His back was toward me as he sat on the edge of my bed, his nude body flexing, the sheen of sweat making his skin gleam as he shifted around.

  I sat up and clutched the sheet to my chest. I looked at my hands and I didn’t see long fingers or red, painted nails. I saw the hands that had ended the life of a friend. Probably my only friend.

  I shuddered, balling them up and turning my face to the side, because if I let myself think too long on it, I’d drown in the memory.

  I doubt Luc had meant for me to hear him. He didn’t even seem to be aware he’d said it; he just kept staring out of my bedroom window with a haunted look in his glacial blue eyes.

  Beams of sunlight caressed his shoulder-length blond hair. He looked like a golden Adonis sitting that way, awash in a liquid yellow wreath of midday sun. I wanted to touch him, run my fingers through his hair once more, and lose the hated memories in the heated press of his body.

  But I couldn’t.

  I threw the sheets off the bed and walked toward the pile of clothes on my floor and snatched up my jeans. I yanked them on, not even bothering to do up the button before I was yanking my shirt over my head.

  He flicked a glance at my legs as I finally buttoned up my pants. “Where are you going?” he asked almost accusingly.

  “If you haven’t noticed, we’re in Mexico. I’m going exploring.”

  He made as if to stand. “Let me go with—”

  I held up my hand. In the week since—my heart stuttered—the incident, Luc and I had gone through a role reversal of sorts. I wasn’t trying to be nasty to him. Honestly. But I could hardly stand to look at him. Aside from sex, I wanted nothing to do with him.

  None of what I’d done was his fault, and deep in my soul I knew that, but that didn’t make the pain easier, the anger and hatred any less sharp or severe, nor did it change the fact that, right or wrong, I blamed him for what’d happened.

  At least parts of it anyway. He hadn’t told me the whole truth when I’d woken up. He’d said most of the children had survived—at least in that I thought I’d done one redeemable thing, that I’d gotten there in time to avert the slaying of innocents. The pain of losing Kemen had been buffered by the knowledge that he’d have been proud his death hadn’t been in vain.

  But it’d all been a lie. The wholesale slaughter that’d gone down that night was being called legendary within monster circles.

  The Order had sent their emissaries to spin whatever story they were going to spin to the humans. So far it seemed to be working; authorities were barking up the wrong tree, looking for a very ordinary, very human teenage cult of five or six boys who might or might not believe themselves to be vampires. It all sounded ridiculous to me. How could a small band of boys, mortal boys at that, bag and tag that many children and not get caught at some point, somewhere? The logic didn’t pan out. But if there was one thing I understood about human nature, it was that there always had to be a scapegoat. Something or someone for them to direct their hate at. And those kids the Order had dreamed up were now wearing the scarlet letter.

  Humans were dumb creatures if they were willing to buy that shit, but then again, I’d fallen prey to pretty lies too, so who was I to cast stones, right?

  Because Luc hadn’t just lied to me about what really went down that night, he’d helped put down most of those children. I’ve not been able to ask him why, mostly because I’m afraid he might give me a legitimate reason to make me hate him less. And right now, hating him is the only thing keeping me semi-sane.

  “No, you stay.”

  His brows dipped and his jaw clenched.

  “I’m gonna study the town, hear what the locals have to say about the killings, and then go see Grace.” With each sentence I spoke, the room grew more and more tense. “Alone.”

  He narrowed his eyes. I could feel his anger; it was almost like a shock of electrical current traveling my flesh, raising the fine hairs on my arms.

  “Do you honestly think it’s wise for you to see Grace alone? Have you forgotten that you nearly killed her the last time you saw her?”

  I curled my fingers into fists and turned my face aside, wishing like hell I hadn’t told him about that little incident.

  “Damn you, Pandora,” he snarled. “Why are you shutting me out? Do you blame me? Do you think it’s my fault?” He poked his chest. “Don’t forget who fucking pulled the wool over our eyes.” He stressed the word. “I won’t take the blame and I won’t”—he stood up, shoving his face into mine—“take your shit either. If you don’t want me around, fine.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him why he killed those kids. I wished to God that Vyxen had never told me, but that bitch loved making me squirm. It was what got her off; for whatever reason, she hated my guts. I couldn’t say the feeling wasn’t intensely mutual, but whatever… The damage was done. She’d told me and now I couldn’t forget it or pretend it away.

  He stalked to the bathroom, pulled on his boxer briefs, then traced out of my room, leaving a faint scent of sulfur behind.

  I couldn’t be upset at him for his flash of temper. Demon or no, Luc was partly right.

  I closed my eyes and clutched my head.

  But he was wrong too. I didn’t just blame him. I blamed myself as well. If I’d been smart enough, if I’d read the clues… everything would have been different.

  A slithering, like the sensuous coiling of a snake’s body, moved down my spine. I knew what it was. The foreign intruder inside me, it was my third soul. Pestilence, demon bastard that he was, fed off my misery. I wasn’t used to him. Wasn’t sure I ever would be.

  He was yet another memento I carried with me from that fateful night. As if the guilt and pain weren’t enough, I now had to walk around with a tangible presence inside me constantly reminding me of what I’d done wrong.

  You see, I was born with two souls. One demonic, one human. I am Nephilim, the creation of a mating between a fallen angel and the daughter of man.

  You could never call my life easy. But I’d grown used to my demonic soul, Lust. We’d created a kind of sick, symbiotic relationship. Lust was as vital to me as breathing. But this new thing, this new soul… it was a twisted perversion that haunted my dreams, my waking hours, with visions of death and violence, sickness an
d pain. I hated it but didn’t know how to rid myself of it.

  Once, it was a problem I would have gone to my human liaison, Grace, for. But Grace had proven herself to be a coldhearted bitch who cared nothing for bonds of friendship or love. She’d deceived me, deceived my family. All along, we’d trusted her, felt she was working alongside us Nephilim to better humanity, when in truth she was more a devil than I’d ever be.

  I opened my eyes and stalked to the door. I needed to get away. I wanted to leave, disappear, and never come back. A hard lump wedged tight in my throat. Grabbing my worn, black felt Stetson from the hook on the wall, I smashed it on my head.

  I could never leave. And I couldn’t pretend that night hadn’t happened.

  Luc was right, I had changed.

  Chapter 2

  I’d meant to ask around town, see if any of the locals knew of or had heard about any recent or strange deaths, but I was a stranger to them. A gringa (white face), they wouldn’t trust me enough to answer me.

  Part of Lust’s glamour was that I could turn myself into the walking embodiment of anybody’s deepest desire, but doing so also required that I had sex recently. A sort of tit for tat kind of arrangement.

  But since that night and the possession of my third soul, Lust wasn’t working so well for me anymore. My desire for sex was practically nil. Luc was the first person I’d slept with since waking from my semi-coma, and even that had left me empty and cold.

  I knew I should be a lot more worried than I actually was—I dunno, maybe Lust was still in shock after our stint in Hell. Meeting Wrath had done things to Lust, screwed with her head. She was like a whimpering, terrified dog tucking tail and hiding in a corner, and there wasn’t much I could do to bring her out.

  So I had to do this sleuthing thing the good old-fashioned way. Being as old as I am, you get a feeling for people. The outer shell might be different, but the inside was always the same. If I wanted to find what I was looking for, I had to go someplace designed to loosen tongues and get men talking. Get a man drunk enough and he’ll tell you anything you want to know.