The Enemy's Kiss

by Zandria Munson

  Nicholas stalked out of the showroom toward the large vault at the rear of the gallery. He had no intention of keeping the rune stone in New York permanently, only holding it in the vault until the renovations in Romania were completed. When that time came he would return it to his brother Simion, who’d chosen to remain in their homeland.

  He quickly punched in the security code at the vault’s exterior door. He entered and did the same for the interior door. A small antique wooden box sat on one of the shelves to the right. He opened it carefully and set the rune inside. He left the room, securing the doors behind him.

  When he returned to the showroom, Alexandra was lifting up her long black hair as Marius secured an elegant ninety-eight-carat sapphire necklace about her neck. Many years ago it had belonged to a countess. Now it would serve to accessorize the blue maternity dress Alexandra wore.

  “Shall we be leaving soon?” he asked with a suppressed smirk.

  “Yes,” Marius replied. He turned Alexandra to face him and smiled with satisfaction. “You look lovely.”

  Her hazel eyes flashed with joy as she assessed her reflection in a small gilded mirror that sat on the top of the showcase. “It’s beautiful!” She sent Nicholas a wary yet friendly look. “What do you think?”

  Nicholas nodded his approval and experienced a pang of guilt when she quickly looked away. She had every reason to fear him. He only hoped that one day she’d be able to overlook the great wrong he’d done her and learn to trust him. His brother offered him a very wan but encouraging smile. Only time and patience would procure those results.

  Nicholas flinched as an ache shot along his right hand. Of late, on nights like this when his emotions took precedence in his mind, he often experienced the same crippling ache in his joints and tasted the putrid bile that had always accompanied his transformation.

  Whether he wanted to admit it or not, this unnerved him; a year and a half had passed since his family’s curse should’ve been broken. However, there were many nights that he missed the liberties he’d enjoyed as a gargoyle. Nothing could compare to soaring through a star-strewn sky and surveying the quiet lands below. But he’d had his fill of becoming stone. The short thirty days he’d enjoyed as a man each year during the spring equinox—a pagan season that was marked by the sun’s crossing over the celestial equator—hadn’t prepared him for the freedom associated with humanity.

  Marius shot him a curious look. “I see old age has finally taken a toll on you,” he stated with a hint of amusement. “Perhaps you should consider a reprieve from all this.” He turned and guided Alexandra toward the doorway.

  Nicholas flexed his right hand, trying to subdue the cramping that was fast moving up his arm. “I am no more an old man than you,” Nicholas returned with budding mirth.

  His humor was short-lived as another ache shot up his arm and along his shoulders. He flexed his hand again. There was a chance that after so many years of enduring such a vicious cycle of being stone by day and gargoyle by night, his body was only lingering in its acclimation. Perhaps the dark creature he once was still lurked within him, looming in his subconscious, waiting to take possession. And if it was no longer being manipulated by the curse, then who or what was in command?

  * * *

  Daniela held her breath as she eased the two-inch-thick portion of glass out of place. She slid it to one side and detached the small suction device.

  “Beautiful.” She exhaled as she paused to admire her handiwork.

  She prided herself on always having a clean entry, and the hole she’d burned through the skylight was just that. She stuffed the small laser into her backpack and pulled out another device. About the size of a matchbox and called the Defragmenter, it had the ability to disable any low-powered security defenses within a twenty-foot radius: cameras, lasers, motion-triggered bars.

  She activated it, slipped it through the hole and attached it to the underside of the glass. Her equipment was always top of the line; a necessity for the complexity of her work.

  Daniela lowered the rope she’d bolted to the roof. The Defragmenter beeped, signaling its completion. She detached it and used the rope to lower herself to the floor. Once on the ground, she activated the earpiece connected to her cell phone.

  The voice of her best friend and partner in crime, Mai, greeted her. “You in yet?”

  “I’m in.”

  She’d met Mai in New York’s Chinatown two months after her mother’s desertion. Mai had been a runaway, and it hadn’t taken long for Daniela to become entangled in unscrupulous behavior. However, Mai had also been the one to introduce her to the local dojo. The sensei, taking pity on them, had offered the girls free training, if only to aid them in protecting themselves. Daniela had become an avid student of an art that she’d also excelled in.

  Daniela shot a quick look about and confirmed what she already knew—the gallery was deserted. She moved silently down the dimly lit hall and toward the heavy door of the vault. Mai had given her a complete blueprint of the building and she knew that a security fence lay behind the door. But she’d come prepared.

  Pulling out her laptop computer and a small battery-powered screwdriver from her backpack, she glanced at her watch. Once she started tampering with the security control panel the alarm would be triggered; she was sure the Defragmenter wasn’t capable of disabling something so complex.

  Mai’s voice invaded her ear again. “How are you doing?”

  “Ready to infiltrate,” Daniela replied. “Looks like we’ve got some state of the art equipment here.”

  She quickly unscrewed the four screws that held the metal plate to the wall. She started the timer on her watch then quickly clipped the wires that connected the main computer to the panel. She stripped them and connected them to wires that were attached to her laptop. Immediately, a password request appeared on the monitor.

  “Ok, I need a seven digit code. Do your thing.”

  “I’m on it.”

  A moment later numbers leapt to the screen, scrolling left to right in a random order. Daniela placed her laptop on the floor and waited.

  Having a partner certainly made things easier. Mai always worked behind the scenes, as that was where her talents lay. She made all the connections, cracked all the computer codes, communicated with clients and infiltrated Chinatown’s black market to purchase the latest in spy gear. The proceeds from every heist were always split fifty-fifty, and they used them for their own individual causes. Daniela chose to provide assistance to less fortunate families and children. She checked her watch just as the sound of locks being released could be heard. The heavy vault door eased open a crack. A smile crept to her lips. “Good job.”

  * * *

  Nicholas slammed the door of his silver Lamborghini and stormed up the gallery steps. He’d received a call from the police only minutes before arriving home; the gallery had been broken into.

  His scowl darkened as he pushed past the officers guarding the front entrance and marched through the marble archway that led into the gallery’s vault. Marius stood at the exit, speaking with a detective.

  Nicholas headed toward them. “What happened here?”

  Marius looked up as he approached. “A thief entered through the roof only moments after we left. He disabled the cameras and was gone before the authorities arrived.”

  “What has been taken?” he asked.

  Marius shot the detective a look then Nicholas, his eyes reflecting a contained measure of discontent. “The only item missing is the Rune of Moloch,” he said.

  Nicholas met his stare and uneasiness crept over him. He stepped around his brother to examine the tampered wires of the security panel. This had been no random act, he was sure. Why would any thief overlook all the priceless items within the gallery and steal only a stone with no apparent value? The heist had to have been contrived
by one who knew the rune stone’s significance.

  The detective spoke then. “This isn’t the first time something like this has happened.” He extended a hand. “Detective Simmons.”

  Nicholas shook his hand and the detective continued.

  “We have reason to believe that the thief who robbed you tonight is the Midnight Bandit. He’s struck over twenty jewelry and antiques stores within the past year and his pattern is always the same—very clean entry, disables all secondary security devices within a twenty—or thirty-foot radius, hacks the main computer to gain access to the vaults, takes only one item and then disappears before the authorities arrive.”

  “And you have no knowledge of who is committing these crimes?” Nicholas asked.

  “None. The thief never leaves fingerprints, DNA evidence or even eyewitnesses. One thing’s for certain—this guy’s really meticulous. We’ve only been following leads, most of which turn up empty.”

  “Have any of the stolen items ever been recovered?” Marius asked.

  “Unfortunately, no. We have reason to believe they’re channeled through the black market and out of the country.”

  Nicholas folded his arms across his broad chest. “So this ‘Midnight Bandit’ has been rampaging through the city for an entire year and yet you have no answers or solutions to offer?”

  The detective’s gaze flitted to Marius and back. “We just don’t have the manpower to watch every potential target in this city. It’s impossible. There’s no budget for it. So we’ve been encouraging business owners like yourselves to take additional measures to protect your properties. It makes our job a little easier.”

  One of Nicholas’s dark brows shot up. “And still you have yet to make progress?”

  Marius cleared his throat. “I am certain you are doing everything you can. We will do whatever is necessary to assist you with your investigations.” He sent Nicholas a pointed look.

  Nicholas inclined his head and said no more. He allowed Marius to continue the interview while he headed toward the back of the gallery. He looked at the neat hole that had been left in the skylight above. The glass, he knew, was two inches thick. His gaze fell to the marble floor, combing it for any pieces that may have fallen, but found nothing.

  He strayed over to the wide glass windows and his gaze locked on to a point on the roof of the building across the street. They had no doubt been watched. His trepidation mounted. Somehow someone had learned that the rune would be delivered on that day and had devised a plan to steal it. Nicholas had been careful to keep news of its transport among only those who needed to know. This could mean only one thing: someone within their clan couldn’t be trusted.

  “Must you always be so embarrassing?” Marius’s reflection appeared in the glass before him.

  Nicholas shot him a glance over his shoulder. “One of the sacred runes has been stolen. I do not think my behavior warrants objection. There was a time when a thief stood no chance against the law. He was apprehended and sometimes beheaded right on the spot.”

  “In case you have not noticed, things have changed. Public decapitations would be sorely frowned upon. It is called being civilized. You would do well to embrace it.”

  He turned to face Marius. “The matter of this missing rune should not be taken lightly, brother. If it is so much as damaged the spell can be broken.”

  Marius looked pensive. “Father will not be pleased to hear of this. That secret has been buried within our family for many centuries. Whoever stole it must know of its importance.”

  Nicholas flexed his neck as a sudden ache began to move down his spine. “There are two possibilities. He intends only to attempt to harvest the power of the stone, for the knowledge of runes has not yet been forgotten. Or he is preparing to conjure the dark and ancient magic that retains the souls of our uncle and his followers. Either way it is a risk we cannot afford.”

  “And what of its twin?” Marius questioned. “The Rune of Cythe?”

  “Only father knows its location.”

  Again Nicholas pondered the possibility of one of their own bloodline plotting to break the spell. Surely the ruin that Gabriel had caused was no secret. To think that someone would wish to revive him was indeed disconcerting.

  “I must travel to Romania,” Nicholas told Marius.

  “I will go with you,” Marius offered.

  “No, your wife needs you here.”

  Marius nodded. “And father?” His brows were furrowed with concern.

  Nicholas sighed. “I will be the one to tell him.” He sauntered back toward the hole in the skylight and peered up into it.

  His eyes narrowed. The space was only large enough for a very slender form to pass through. He would’ve made mention of it, but a faint scent passed into his nostrils. He paused—it was barely present, a soft wisp of something pleasant.

  Marius looked at him. “What is it?” he asked.

  “There is a fragrance on the air.”

  Marius inhaled softly. “I smell nothing.”

  Nicholas realized that he was again tapping into the abilities he’d possessed as a gargoyle. He found it odd that Marius was unable to do the same.

  “The air is laced with it,” he told him as he inhaled deeply.

  Marius followed. “What does it smell like?”

  Nicholas was silent for a moment then he turned to face his brother. “Like roses.”

  Chapter 2

  Drakon Castle, Romania

  Nicholas flexed the thick and aching muscles of his neck. Obscured within the shadows of the large dining hall of his family’s estate, he waited. He’d been pacing the darkness as he’d contemplated all the possible motives for what had occurred, when a noise had alerted him. Silently, he’d made his way down the hall, slipping an eighteenth-century rapier from the wall in the process.

  He’d arrived in Romania earlier that day and had relayed the incident of the stolen rune stone to his father. As expected, Lord Victor hadn’t taken the news well, and he’d summoned the elders of their clan to discuss the matter.

  As Nicholas neared the main dining hall the scraping noise grew louder. He slipped within the shadows cast by the massive hearth whose jaws gaped with only slivers of a dying flame. From somewhere in the mansion a grandfather clock chorused the midnight hour. His eyes riveted to one of the tall rear windows and one thought invaded his mind—the Midnight Bandit had come to find the second rune.

  A soft popping sound ensued and the window creaked open, the heavy drapes lifting as a gust of wind reached in to caress them. His muscles tensed. It had been a long time since he’d last had the privilege to engage in a worthwhile fight, and thus, he welcomed the inevitable confrontation with eagerness. He only hoped that his opponent was up to the challenge.

  One black boot then another swung in through the opening. Nicholas would’ve advanced, but paused as two slender calves encased within skintight leather slipped in. Shapely thighs and hips followed. Dressed in a black, fitted shirt, leather pants and a mask, the figure landed in a silent crouch on the floor. His eyes narrowed on his new adversary. It seemed his assumption had been correct; the Midnight Bandit was female.

  With feline grace, she crawled another few feet and she shot an assessing look about the room.

  Nicholas remained as he was; still and without breath. He watched as she stood and began to saunter across the floor. She even took a moment to admire the room’s heavy oak table before advancing. Her figure was completely outlined as she moved past the dull glow of the hearth.

  Nicholas’s gaze trailed the length of her as she drew nearer; lean and fit with full breasts and a slender waist. Her stride was bold and confident, that of one who had nothing to fear. It was obvious that she had no knowledge of the territory she’d chosen to invade.

  He eased from the shadows then
. “Five hundred years ago your crimes would have been punishable by death,” he said.

  Her attention snapped to him and a look of surprise crossed her eyes but she quickly regained her composure.

  “I guess that makes me fortunate to be living in the present, doesn’t it?”

  One of Nicholas’s dark brows peaked slightly at her sharp retort. “You would be wise to return the Rune of Moloch to me and save yourself the unnecessary grief.”

  Silence lapsed between them as she watched him. It was short-lived. “I have no intention of returning anything to you,” she said. “In fact, I intend to walk out of here with the second one.”

  His eyes narrowed on her. A confrontation he’d anticipated, a fight he’d hoped for, but he hadn’t expected this: a recalcitrant hoyden whose tongue was sharper than the blade he held.

  “And I intend to stop you.”

  “It seems we have a conflict of interest.” She quickly slid one of the brass fire pokers from its rack and took a defensive martial arts stance.

  “So it seems.” With fluid grace he raised his own weapon just in time to block her attack. Metal met metal in a deafening clash that initiated a fierce waltz. Her speed and agility both surprised and impressed him. She moved with the apparent effortlessness of one well schooled in the art. He found himself wondering who she was. The world had softened and its warriors had abandoned the ancient arts of physical combat. She was a rarity indeed.

  She attacked again, slicing upward. Nicholas jumped backward, but not before the sharp point of the fire poker slipped up along the front of his billowed shirt. The material fell apart, gaping to reveal his midsection.

  “If you intend to stop me you’d better try harder than that,” she said with a smirk in her voice.

  Nicholas gripped his shirt and tore it from his body. If she wanted a fight she was going to get one. He charged forward, but she evaded his attack with a graceful backward flip. It seemed the bandit was also an accomplished gymnast.