Charleston Past Midnight

by Christine Edwards

  Stepping off the building I follow her while keeping ample distance between us. She’s smart. I’ll only intervene if absolutely necessary.

  I watch her step up onto the opposite sidewalk beside him, her eyes never leaving her prey’s as she slowly ambles toward him in a seductive manner. He slows even more, already quite interested in the possibility of a chance meeting with one such as her. I stifle my raging possessiveness, mentally reminding myself that this will inevitably occur countless times in the centuries to come.

  I hear her speak to him as she touches his bicep, “Hi.”

  Fuck! She’s trying to do what feels natural to her, to seduce him as a human female would. She shouldn’t be speaking to him at all … she needs to simply act! I get closer, concerned that this could head south in the blink of an eye.

  The large male stares down at her, “Hey, babe, where you headed?”

  I can tell that she is trying to glamour him, but she’s vibrating with nerves and can’t focus. Her eyes break from his to find mine. I shake my head once, signaling that she needs to walk away. It’s too risky. There are people getting close and she isn’t ready to do this on her own.

  He keeps talking to her. “You need a lift, sweetheart? Tell you what—I’m your man if I can get your digits. Your call, babe.”

  She shakes her head, angry with herself. Releasing his arm, she brushes quickly past him.

  I watch as he turns around and throws out an arm as he calls out loudly to her, “What the fuck? You drunk college bitches are so fucking confusing! Whatever, your loss.”

  She’s trembling as she reaches me. Both hunger and shame are written on her lovely face.

  “Let’s get out of here, Severin. Damn it! That was an epic failure.”

  “Come, let’s walk.”

  My arm is wrapped comfortingly around her as we walk together in silence. Turning right down Beaufain Street, I stop her. “Calla, don’t beat yourself up over it. It’s not productive. Now tell me, what happened back there?”

  She presses her pink lips together and says, “I thought I had it, but nerves got the best of me and I floundered. I didn’t think that I could glamour him; it was too foreign for me. Shit, maybe I’m not cut out for this lifestyle, Severin.”

  She looks off down the dim street and I can see the distress in her eyes.

  I lean down and whisper against her lips, “You, my beauty, are spectacular. Give it time, and it will come to you.”

  She murmurs, “I sure hope that’s the case, because this hunger is so strong it’s starting to gnaw at my stomach.”

  * * *

  It’s just after four in the morning when we pass the entrance to MacPherson’s Pub on Prioleau Street. The multitudes of partiers have begun to noticeably thin out, leaving only a few stragglers and scattered couples staggering in and out of the late night bars. It’s amusing to watch them constantly lose their balance on the rounded stones and uneven slate sidewalks. Back in my time, men were far better at holding their liquor.

  We still have close to two hours until dawn, but I’d rather she feed now than cut it too close. I’m cautious and want to have her back to the safety of the house by five a.m. Suddenly I detect a familiar voice. My face whips to the right and I listen intently. Impossible. Could we be so lucky?

  I stop, grasp her shoulders, and speak low and fast, “I’ve just found exactly what you’re looking for tonight, Calla, but you must remember to keep a rein on your anger when you feed.” I tilt my head in the direction where I want her to look and add, “Now turn around.”

  We’re about a hundred yards away from him, standing against the long shadows of a brick building. As she turns to see whom I’m referring to, a long, low hiss escapes her parted lips. She recognizes him immediately and without a word or glance to me she heads straight toward the man named Kane. He’s alone tonight. His friend must still be recovering. Now it’s his turn to pay up.

  I hear him speaking into his mobile, his voice a drunken slur, “Yeah, we’ll see about that, baby. You’d better get ready to take it hard, ’cause I’ll be over in fifteen and you’d best be wearing that black lace shit that gets me all fired up. What? Fuck no, I’m not stoppin’ on the way for a bottle of wine.”

  The instant he catches sight of Calla in his peripheral vision his jaw drops and he mutters as he disconnects from his call, “See ya.” His features tighten in hatred as she closes in fast. He starts to speak, “No boyfriend to protect—”

  His sentence is cut off as she grabs him by the front of his shirt. His feet nearly lose contact with the ground beneath him as he’s dragged to the side of the building. I focus my gaze and watch as she immediately shoves him hard against the brick wall. A large steel dumpster and the heavy shadows shield them from the few people meandering along the street at this late hour.

  She doesn’t yet know the superior strength that she possesses, but he’ll soon feel it. I jog across the street because there is simply no way I’m going to miss this. I edge into the mouth of the alley, not wanting to interrupt what is about to go down.

  He quickly recovers from the shock of being manhandled by a petite woman and growls at her, “You dumb cunt, you just sealed your fate.”

  Without a word she brings her arm down and I watch it cut up and across her torso as she deals him a vicious backhand that drops the towering man to his knees before her.

  His head hangs low, inches from the filthy cobblestones. I watch him spit out a tooth and grate out, “What the fuck!” while struggling to get back up to his feet. She doesn’t give him the chance. Before he’s halfway up, she grips the back of his dark hair in a cruel hold, bringing him up to face her. When they are inches apart, she whispers softly, “Now I’m a sporting girl, asshole, so I’m going to let you go, and if you can get to the top of that alley before I take you down, then you’re free.”

  I grin inwardly. Even half-asleep she could beat him. He done for and she knows it well.

  “You stupid whore! Get your fucking hands off me! I’m gonna make you bleed. You’re the one who’s gonna be leaving this alley in a damn body bag, bitch!”

  “Do your best, big talker,” she hisses as she releases his hair.

  I tense as he lunges for her. She stops him cold with a palm planted right into the center of his thick chest. She shoves hard and he lands once again up against the brick, completely stunned by her power. Before he can move or make any sound, she attacks. Her fangs plunge right into him, and he begins to scream in pain before she wisely plants her hand across his mouth to shut him up. She’s too furious to bother glamouring him, knowing that he deserves every ounce of pain and discomfort that her bite will bring. As she drinks from him I watch his struggle cease as the pleasure takes over. He’s moaning continuously from the wave of sexual excitement that is working its way through his overwrought system. I don’t like watching it, but at least she is feeding, and this time there was no hesitation whatsoever on her part. Good for her.

  I hear his heart slowing and I know that I need to intervene before she drains him completely. I move in and place a hand on her bare shoulder. She quickly tries to shrug me off, not wanting to be interrupted.

  “Stop now.” I demand sternly.

  That catches her attention. She retracts from his neck and steps away, not concerned in the least as the human moans and slides into a heap, one shoulder slumped against the battered dumpster.

  “Seal his wound or he’ll bleed out, Calla.”

  She turns to face me, his red blood still staining her full lips. “I couldn’t care less.”

  Shaking my head, I explain, “You will in time. Now do as I say or I will.”

  She’s furious as she points down at him in disgust. “This piece of trash was gonna rape me that night, Severin! Explain to me why I should show him mercy? Tell me!” Her eyes are shimmering with rage as I say calmly, “Because you’re nothing like him, and you never will be. That’s why.”

  She knows that she doesn’t have a platform to arg
ue with me on this point. Reluctantly she turns toward the slouched man, huffs out a breath, and drops down into a crouch to swipe her tongue against his seeping wound. It begins to clot immediately as she stands and spits once onto the stone, obviously not liking the taste of his skin and perspiration. She wipes her lips with the back of her hand and tells me, “I got what I needed, even though his blood tasted like alcohol. Now I want to get out of here. Let’s go.”

  “Wait.”

  I crouch down and pry his eyes open, stare deeply into them and wipe his recall of the last several minutes. This is a must, each and every time. Glamouring takes care of that, but seeing as how she cut straight to the action, it has to be handled before we leave.

  Taking her hand, I lead her back onto the street where intoxicated partiers are coming in and out of the three popular spots on the lamp-lit street. My mobile suddenly goes off, vibrating repetitively in my pocket. I reach in, fish it out, and read the name ‘Case’ on the screen. My blood runs cold. He never calls me, as in ever. Something is very wrong ….

  I draw her up against a corner wall, my arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders as I touch the screen. He begins to speak to me immediately, his low voice pulsating in fury, “They’ve got her, Valdon’s men. Was chillin’ at one of her outside tables as she finished her shift. Saw her walk into the ladies’ room. She never came out. Fucking got concerned and busted the lock open. Nothing but her scattered purse left on the fucking floor. Tell me you got a plan, Severin, ’cause I have an idea where they live and I’m about to go solo. He takes her down, he’s gonna fucking pay up, and that’s no lie.”

  “Easy, Case. Meet me at the house in twenty minutes. If you haven’t already, contact Ambrose and Alina and have them meet us. I have a stop to make first.”

  We both disconnect and in an instant the night has gone from entertaining to harrowing. An icy shiver slithers up my neck, knowing that the human named Kiana is as good as dead. She’s nothing but a pawn in Valdon’s sick game—an attractive, disposable one at that. There is no way I’ll ever permit Calla to get within range of him. He knows that she cares for this human and will most likely do everything within her power to try and rescue her doomed friend.

  Her slight hand wraps around my wrist, tugging urgently. “What is it, what’s wrong?” She senses my one-eighty shift in emotions and is scared.

  Pulling her quickly back into the mouth of the alley, I say as calmly as possible under the circumstances, “Wrap your arms tightly around my waist and close your eyes, Calla.”

  She complies instantly, knowing that the information delivered on that call was miles away from ‘good.’ I band my arms around hers and swiftly trace us to the one place where I know she’ll be secure, the one place he’s never infiltrated—our safe house in Spain.

  * * *

  Her surprised gasp fills the still, archaic space. I keep my hold firm and stare down into her wide eyes, “All right?”

  Her eyes track around the walls to take in the priceless tapestries then farther up to view the ancient ceiling, painted in highly detailed relief with corals and myriad shades of blue.

  “What is this place?”

  Opening my arms, I reluctantly release her and step back. “We’re in Spain, and for now, it’s where you’ll be safe. I must go. Stay within the villa, Calla, I’m not flexible on this. I will return when I’ve cleared thing up back in Charleston.”

  “Wait!” She lunges for me, grasping my forearm, wisely sensing that I am about to trace.

  In a low, nervous tone, she pleads, “Tell me what’s going down tonight, Severin. You expect me to be a part of this equation yet you insist on keeping me in the dark. I deserve to know the truth, especially if it involves me. What is it?”

  I shake my head, reluctant to give her the limited and undoubtedly dire information concerning her best friend’s welfare. No, I can’t leave her here to dwell on it alone. She would try to do something irrational and get herself hurt. I press my lips together and am about to tell her goodbye when she whispers, “Wait, was that Case’s deep voice I heard on that phone call? Oh God, is it Kiana? Is she in danger? You assured me that he was looking out for her! Oh God! What is it? Tell me right now!” She lets loose a fierce shriek I’ve never heard from her before.

  I can’t lie to her. She would never forgive me. But I can gloss over the truth to smooth the brutal reality of the situation.

  “It was him calling, Calla, and the best thing you can do for her right now is stay here. I can’t help her if I’m worried about you. Time is of the essence. I must go now. The others are waiting for me.”

  “No! You will not leave me here! I get that you need your control in and out of the bedroom, Severin, I do, and believe me, normally I’m all on board for it, but this … this is different and you know it! I can’t just sit here knowing that she might face the same danger I did. I’m going back with you.”

  I’m furious that she is too headstrong to see the big picture. I don’t have the time or patience to lay it out for her—that her roommate’s abduction is a trap to lure her to Valdon. For me, it’s a clear choice—that is, if it ever came down to the wire between Calla’s future or her friend’s life. She is not going anywhere near him. Period.

  I make a wide step back toward the large fireplace, stare into her livid eyes, and trace back to Charleston before she can utter another word. I hope desperately that the memory I have of her in my mind will not be my last. No, this time I play to win.

  * * *

  “Thank fuck you’re here! I was about to take off without you.”

  Case is vibrating with rage as he grates the words out. I watch him shift from foot to foot, all two hundred and fifty pounds of him primed to attack.

  My eyes meet Ambrose’s. He’s standing beside Alina, who is flipping a small yet lethal dagger up into the air in a repetitive motion. Everyone has their coping mechanisms for stress. Ambrose and I both internalize the anger until we’re ready to mete out the punishment—the calm before the storm, so to speak.

  Ambrose speaks quietly, in a nearly detached tone, “I know where their place is. They have a large compound on the banks of the Wando River. We’ve all agreed that the closest we’ve been to that location is The Middlefield Marina. Do you know it?”

  “Yes, I’ve been there as well.”

  “Right then, once we’re there we shouldn’t be but half a mile from them. I suggest we ring him up and get him to invite us over for a little chat, maybe allude to negotiations.”

  “Done. Let’s go.”

  Within seconds we arrive at the empty dock. The water laps endlessly against the white vessels that are bobbing in the water. I pull out my phone and touch the screen, knowing that he will pick up, that he wants Calla desperately. My blood pounds in my head and I struggle to not crush the slim device in my palm as his smooth, arrogant Russian-accented voice answers. “Talk to me,” he says.

  “I want the human.”

  “For once we are in agreement, because I want Calla.”

  “I’m coming to you.”

  “Divine. We are located at the end of Chippewa Trail. We will meet you out back near the riverbank.”

  “Fine.”

  I’m about to disconnect when he says in a poisonous tone, “And Severin, she will die a horribly slow death if you do not produce what I want this evening. I will take out her lover as well, simply to prove my point.”

  I hear a crack, followed by several others that happen in rapid succession as I realize I have unconsciously crushed my iPhone into shards.

  From behind me I hear Ambrose say in a flat voice, “Well, I see that went well.”

  Case growls low, clearly pissed and ready to unleash his wrath on the assholes that have his lady. Good, we’re going to need exactly that kind of temperament if we hope to pry her from them unscathed.

  “We go on foot from here. They are not far. Follow me. Go by instinct. If it comes down to a fight, let Alina secure the human while we have at it
. Time is against us. Sunrise is set for six ten this morning. It’s imperative that we get the human away from them as quickly as possible.”

  After they agree on our plan of action we take off at a steady run toward the West. I’m in the lead and we cross the distance in little time. As we close in, I quickly tally their shadowed figures. There are six, total, not counting the human girl. I’ve faced worse odds alone. It’s not the numbers or their fighting skills that concern me, it’s Valdon’s ability to tap into thoughts. It’s impossible to fight effectively when you are trying to wipe your next move from your mind. That fact alone is why he is superior and has been unstoppable so far. To add to the mess, I’ll also have to focus on not giving him any inkling as to where Calla is hidden.

  We stride confidently into the clearing that separates the elevated, ultra-modern home from the river. My eyes latch onto the petrified human who is tethered by her long hair to Valdon’s hand. She whimpers in fear but I can tell she is trying hard to not to scream out. She knows what they are by now. Case has already shared with me that she’s willingly shared her blood with him. He assured me that she was solid and if he got the sense she was going to ever share their little secret then he would wipe her clean and cut her loose. I believe him; he’s never given me a reason not to. She finds Case’s eyes as we cross into the moonlight and a little strangled sound of terror bubbles up from her throat.