Through These Wicked Nights (Guardians of the Night Book 2)

by Pixie Lynn Whitfield

  “Only a full-blood has them. I know, they seem ridiculous and stereotypical.” He gave her a lopsided, forced smile. “But they’re a source of power, and a status symbol among our kind. If you have them, you’re among our most powerful and elite.”

  She nodded in understanding, but made the mental note that Seth had somehow given away something. Draven had had wings.

  “Okay, I get that. How do they work though? They’re solid. Feathered. How do they go in and out of your back?” she asked incredulously.

  He continued smiling and looked as if he were holding in laughter. Yeah, her questions came out a little silly, but they were genuine. She was truly curious.

  “They grow.”

  “What?”

  “Our shoulder blades…they have a special opening through our skin. When they’re gone, it looks like two scratches. And they grow from there. Quite painful at times, honestly. That’s why you don’t see us walking around with our wings displayed very often or just popping them out for fun. Only when we’re in battle.”

  “Wait,” she started, beginning to sit up, squinting. “You’re saying that they just grow out from your shoulders…like hair?”

  “Exactly. It may look magical to someone watching, but it doesn’t feel magical.” Then he laughed. She stared at him in silence, not laughing with him.

  He sighed and shook his head.

  “You’re really wanting to know what happened with Draven.” He paused. It sounded like a statement, an accusation, rather than a question, but it was true. “You want to know why he just can’t grow his wings back, especially now that you’ve shared your Fallen power with him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Nathanial cut them off, that’s why. When our wings aren’t present, it’s because we willed them away. We’ve no use for that grown set anymore, so the feathers fall apart and they leave us, but the main area at our shoulders remain the same for the growth next round. Draven went unconscious during a battle while his wings were still manifested, and what Nathanial did was cut them at the source. Then he turned him Vampire so that the area healed from the blood. It ended them entirely. Even now.”

  Zarah licked her lips and forced herself to swallow against her dry mouth. She could feel tears building again. “So, any Fallen can be turned Vampire?”

  “Cut out our wings, the source of most of our power, and feed us the necessary blood, yes.”

  “I can’t imagine how painful that must be,” she only whispered, turning away.

  Seth touched her chin, pulling her gaze back to him. His eyes were intense and bright, his face close to hers. She could smell the vanilla scent that hung in the air around him, and she fought the urge from lunging forward to have a taste. The thought gave her pause while she mused over whether or not a Vampire could feed from a full-blood Fallen, and if so, if anything happened. She shook her head in disbelief at the turn of her mind before focusing on him again.

  “Actually, I feel sorrier for you,” he whispered. His hand still lingered on her chin. It was warm and his fingers were slightly calloused from fighting.

  “Why?” Zarah frowned, the confusion clear in the lines showing around her down-turned mouth.

  “Because you’re a warrior with a Fallen bloodline. And you don’t have wings. You should.”

  Before Zarah could respond, he’d leaned forward and placed his lips on hers.

  Eleven

  Zarah had never been so shocked before. She also wasn’t protesting to his kiss, and as he began to run his hand down her back and into a tangle of her long hair, she encouraged it by wrapping her arms around his neck. The kiss began to deepen and he was pushing her back against the couch with a sigh.

  Of course, she’d kissed before. She’d done more than that. Despite her permanent nineteen-year-old age, she’d been around for a long time. This wasn’t a new experience. But she also hadn’t been looking for any kind of romance in recent months either.

  Zarah closed her eyes as she enjoyed his tender touches over the sides of her legs and up her waist. Frighteningly, images began to flicker through her closed eyes. Draven on the table. His cut wings…bloodied and discarded.

  Draven. Draven. Draven.

  “No, no, no,” she suddenly blurted, jerking away from Seth’s touch and staring at him wide-eyed. “What are you doing?”

  “I thought…you know…I thought we were enjoying ourselves here. I want you, Zarah. I‘ve been wanting you,” he said with a frown.

  “I can’t, Seth. This isn’t right. You hardly know me. I don’t know you very well. It’s just not right.” She didn’t even know his likes or dislikes. Not like she did with Draven, who hated modern rap music—but loved classic pop—hated getting rained on, and loved sports cars and the color orange because it reminded him of a sun they couldn’t be in.

  “It’s more than that, though, isn’t it?” Seth interrupted her thoughts. He’d made his distance by pushing back on his heels and walked backwards until he sat on his bed several feet away. His eyes sent suspicious questions her way. She sighed.

  “I love him. He is my Bond Mate.”

  “A Bond Mate that seems to disregard you now. I’ve noticed.” His voice was flat and emotionless, but the words stung when they struck her. Anger swelled in her chest.

  “Because of you!” She stood up with a shout, glaring.

  “He thinks there’s something going on between us,” she continued as she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth to forget the kiss that just happened. It didn’t matter. Her lips still tingled from their contact. He smirked at her. She scowled in return.

  “Isn’t there though?” he asked, standing now.

  “No.”

  She couldn’t believe the visit had taken these turn of events. Standing in the small apartment with Seth suddenly became too intimate. He towered over her, and she craned her neck up, looking defiant and determined.

  “Too bad, Sunshine.”

  Zarah turned away and started to leave.

  “Wait.”

  She stopped, her back still facing him, and held her breath. He came up behind her, too close, and reached around her waist. She swallowed, but when she looked down she saw he was handing her the memory stick back.

  “I wouldn’t tell Draven yet. Just a suggestion,” he said as she took it from his grasp.

  “Why not?”

  “Because once he sees the video, the memories may come back. He’s not ready to remember. There’s a lot more to this than you know. Obviously, from the video you already know our father is not quite the friendly guy.” Seth was bullying her into not telling? This seemed curious. She looked at him with suspicion.

  “So, you do know more about that night than you let on?”

  “Perhaps. I have to sort out some other things first. Not for you to know right now either.”

  She growled in response and stormed out with a slam of his door. More secrets. More questions.

  Night had risen again she’d noticed, opening the shutters of the building.

  Unfortunately, when she came stumbling into the hallway, furious still and with her wild appearance, she was face to face with Draven.

  Twelve

  Zarah stood silent and still, waiting for him to say something. She wanted him to say something to her. He stared at her expressionless, knowing the door she’d just stormed out of. Her mostly-dead heart thudded hard, slowly, in her chest.

  “So…” he began, “…nothing is going on between you and Seth?” His voice was edged with an underlying anger. She licked her dried lips and watched his eyes scan her from head to toe. She was still barefoot and in the pajama wear from earlier in the morning when she’d first arrived at Seth’s door. It was definitely not helping her case, and she mentally cursed Seth for not waking her earlier like she’d asked. Of course, he wasn’t the only to blame. It was his couch she fell asleep on when she could’ve just used the last bit of energy she had to go back to her own room. It also would have saved her from that confusing
kiss.

  It was obvious he wasn’t looking for an answer to the question. He’d already had his assumptions after seeing her. He didn’t give her time to respond and started to turn away.

  No. She wasn’t going to let him walk off. Despite that she hadn’t seen it, she kept imagining his injured Fallen body those years ago lying in her yard, later to be picked up by Nathanial. Maybe he’d sacrificed himself, or maybe he hadn’t. Either way, he’d been stripped of his wings and turned Vampire because he’d been in her yard that night. He’d seen and heard the fight that killed her mother. If Draven hadn’t already meant everything to her by then, he surely did now.

  “No, Draven,” she said quickly, her bare feet padding on the tiled floor while she ran to catch up. He continued walking, but slowed his pace.

  “No? Then please, Zarah, explain. You just slipped out of Seth’s room, right after dark, and you look like you’ve rolled out of bed.” Each word sounded strained, growing more furious.

  She sighed. They’d made some distance from Seth’s apartment, and were in a different hallway. The Compound was silent besides them. His boots echoed, while her feet stomped in a rush to keep up. She reached out and put a hand on his arm, stopping him in the middle of the hall. He glared down at her in silence, his eyes dark and jaw set. She didn’t remove her hand from his wrist.

  “There’s nothing going on. Will you stop? I fell asleep in there and Seth didn’t wake me up. If you’d been paying attention, I was leaving the room angry.” She left out the part of why she’d really been storming out for now. This probably wasn’t a good time to bring that up.

  Draven narrowed his eyes.

  “Why were you in there in the first place though?”

  Crap. Zarah hadn’t thought this through. She hoped the casual slip of her other hand going behind her back to hide the tiny, black computer device wouldn’t seem suspicious. Thankfully he didn’t notice.

  “I had questions to ask him about my mother,” she quickly answered, thankful to pull the answer so fast from the top of her head. It was half-truth at least. He seemed to accept it and nodded.

  A sly smile started to form and she reached up with one hand, playfully pinching one of his cheeks.

  “You’re jealous!”

  “What? I am not,” he huffed, trying to remain cool as he backed away from her pinching. She dropped her hand and pursed her lips.

  “I was teasing. I know you’re not. You don’t care anymore.” Her voice came out in a mumble, and she started to turn away to go back to her room. He came around in a flash to stand in front of her, his eyes showing surprise and hurt. She started to step back, but he stopped her by reaching out and placing both of his hands on her shoulders.

  “I don’t care? How could you think that?” The accent she admired came rolling out through each word. It was always more prevalent when he was emotional. She suddenly realized she had been trying to place Seth’s voice. They had similar tones. It sounded Irish, but had a more ancient feel around the words.

  Draven continued to stare at her, waiting for an answer. She stuttered in her thoughts and only gazed back into his eyes. The silver gleamed against the bright blue in his irises. She swallowed. He was shifting forward, his hands moving up to cup her face. She felt her heart skip a single beat, and then her mind screamed.

  No. She couldn’t. As much as she loved him and wanted this, she couldn’t. There was too much going on. She needed answers to the questions raging through her mind. They were at war, and there would be casualties. And she was keeping secrets from him.

  Zarah didn’t want to go into her bonding with Draven having secrets.

  She didn’t give him time to lean in and have their first kiss. Regret overwhelmed her when she pushed away. He looked confused.

  “I can’t,” she stuttered. Her bare feet squeaked on the tiles as she rushed toward her room without looking back.

  Thirteen

  “Tonight, our world has suffered a great loss. Europe and its nations have been destroyed by air-bombings due to their aiding of Vampires. We have received military volunteers from several of the countries to join our Hunters. Any other countries or people caught aiding these monsters will be destroyed.”

  “Do you hear this shit?”

  Thomas charged into her room. She’d been at the computer again with the video, skipping over the gruesome parts, trying to find anything she’d missed. In a rush, she closed out the screen before he could notice. The speakers in the hallway crackled the same announcement to anyone in the Compound that might’ve missed it on the television. He slammed her door and began pacing around her small space.

  “Yeah. It seems things are worse, huh?” She turned around in her chair and faced him with a frown before taking the remote and switching off the never-ending news. She hated to admit she missed the bad reality shows.

  “You’re not kidding. Now whole countries are being bombed away just to destroy us.” He sat down on the edge of her couch. A crease crossed his brows as he looked past her into the bedroom.

  “Seriously, you can’t make your bed at least on some occasions?”

  Zarah huffed, blowing some of her hair out of her face.

  “I make it when I want.”

  He let out a long sigh. She almost laughed at the lightening mood, but it was already turning dark again when he changed the subject.

  “You look like hell, too.”

  She stood and shrugged, not meeting his gaze.

  “I’m just tired of being locked up here. You know we should be out there fighting. Instead, we’re inside like cowards.”

  “What good would it do for us to get executed though? Perhaps the Fallen are right on that point—” he started before she whipped around and cut him off with an angry growl.

  “And since when do we let some Fallen control our system? The Compound is for the Guardians. Not them. They shouldn’t get a say in whether we go out and fight or not.”

  He clenched his jaw. She saw the thought cross through his eyes but something else was there too.

  “Many of you agree with them though, right?” she said with narrowed eyes, and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Yes. It’s really for the best right now, Sis. You need to understand that. It would be suicide to go out there right now. We should arrange some sort of negotiation with the President, on neutral terms, for all of our safety. Either way, in the end, the result of this world isn’t going to be pretty.”

  Zarah knew he was right. She hated when he was right. She sat back down with slumped shoulders, defeat clear in her features. The night was still early but exhaustion had already started to set in again.

  “You’re starving.”

  He hadn’t said it as a question. It was clear in his voice. She looked back up at him and saw his worried frown.

  “We’re low on our supply. What do you expect? I’m sure I’m not the only one starting to starve.” Maybe she’d sounded a little too quipped. She looked down in shame. Thomas came forward and knelt down in front of her, forcing her to meet his eyes again. How were they related? They didn’t look anything alike. He had dirty-blonde hair and strong, chiseled features with large hazel-gold eyes; she had long, dark auburn hair with turquoise-violet eyes that were almond shaped and baby-faced features. Her lips were pouty and small, where his were narrow. His nose was large, but proportionate to his square-ish face, where hers was small and button-like and fit on her heart-shaped one. He was tall, at least six-two. She was short at around five-two or so. Thinking back to the video again, she saw so much of their father in him that she almost began to tear up.

  “Didn’t we just have a meeting about this though? To continue feeding from our supply like we always would until it does run out? Then we would figure it out from there? Yet, here you sit…starving…because you’re refusing to take your own to allow everyone else the extra blood as long as possible.”

  His voice was soft, concerned. He reached up and ran his hand through her hair. She
sighed.

  “I’ve been under so much stress, Thomas. I have secrets and I can’t tell them.” Her words came tumbling out in a rush, tears with them. She went forward, and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. He started to form words; she could sense the questions coming.

  Before he could get them out, screams began to pierce the outside air around The Compound building.

  Fourteen

  “What the hell is happening?”

  Zarah and Thomas sprinted from her room and into the hallway where others had begun to meet up with confused and curious expressions. The screams continued somewhere outside. They sounded painful. She cringed each time one pierced the air.

  “There are Hunters outside and they’ve snagged some Hiders.”

  She turned to see Draven walking into the crowd. He looked beyond furious, his fists clenched at his sides.

  “Where?” she asked.

  “On the north side of the building. I was coming out of the Lounge when I heard the commotion, and looked down from the balcony when I saw them.”

  She gave a short nod with gritted teeth before turning away. Her legs protested with each pounding step back to her room. Nails dug into her palms.

  “What are you doing?”

  She slipped bare feet into her combat boots and furiously grabbed her gun. Draven stood in the doorframe.

  “I’m taking charge of the situation.” She pushed past him and started down the hallway again, with him running behind her.

  “You can’t go out there! You’re weak and outnumbered—”

  “Weak?” She’d stopped, keeping her back to him. The anger was boiling in her system by now. What exactly could he mean by that?