Embrace the Night Eternal

by Joss Ware

  “Did you follow me?” she asked suddenly.

  “No.” He shifted and she noticed how the sun filtered over him from one side, fringing his long lashes and smooth, tied-back hair, and all along a sharp cheekbone and chiseled jawline. Her mouth felt even drier.

  “Are you sure?” Sage demanded, all at once annoyed at the thought of him watching her creep around the fence, and then as she desperately fought off the wolf. And, oh yeah, horking up her breakfast. Just wixy great.

  It wouldn’t be the first time he’d come upon her unexpectedly. He’d shown up on the roof last night. And then in the nick of time after she left the restaurant. Her heart began to pound again…and she wasn’t sure why. Was Simon following her? Was Theo right…was something going on with him?

  “I’m sure,” Simon said, those dark eyes hard. “If I’d followed you, I’d have made sure that didn’t happen.” He shoved the wolf with his booted toe. “What the hell do you take me for?”

  Sage recognized that he was truly irked and decided to believe him. And the realization followed. “You were here. In there,” she amended, pointing to the Beretta building. “Weren’t you?”

  He hesitated a mere moment before giving a short nod.

  “You saw me? How did you get past the gangas? There are gangas in there, aren’t there?” she demanded. Damn it. He’d figured it out before she had, and he’d already gone in and found whatever there was to find. “Did you learn anything?”

  “How did you know to come here?” he asked.

  “I found your search results—it was you, wasn’t it? On my computer? Searching for ‘Remington Truth Las Vegas condo’?”

  His mouth twitched in a sudden flicker and Sage noticed. Yes, she definitely noticed…they were beautiful lips. Just perfect, with sharp angles and the right amount of fullness for a man—

  “And you figured it out from that?”

  Sage felt her telltale fair skin warm as she realized she’d been staring, distracted. “That’s what I do. I figure things out. Did you get in there, Simon? Really?” She tried to hide the wistfulness in her voice, the hint of petulance. “Is his place still there?”

  “I think so. I didn’t get all the way in…I left.” He held his hand out. “Give that to me before the damned thing’s ruined.”

  She realized he meant the knife, and she obeyed. The dried blood on her hand itched, and she tried to wipe it away as Simon cleaned off her blade, swiping it expertly over the side of his jeans. He handled it so easily, comfortably, and she felt a little shiver, imagining him putting it to use. The image came readily, and seemed to fit all too well with the underlying violence she sensed.

  Without speaking, he gave her back the knife and she slipped it into her boot. She realized that he must have cut his exploration inside short when he noticed her from the building, and had either come to her rescue…or simply came to rush her off, back to Envy.

  Looking up at him, Sage said, “Great. So, why don’t you show me the way inside and we can finish checking things out? Obviously, you know a way in past the gangas.”

  He looked at her for a long moment, “absolutely no way” all over his face and stance. Then at last, he said, “Because if I don’t take you in now, you’ll come back on your own.”

  She grinned at him. “Right you are.” She didn’t mention that she’d probably bring Theo with her. Why give him an excuse to change his mind?

  “Better be careful with that,” he said, turning away, fingers tucked into the front pockets of his jeans as he sauntered a few steps off.

  “The knife?” she said, glancing at the hilt sticking up from her boot as she started to follow him.

  He cast a quick look over his shoulder, fast, liquid, and dark. Her belly dropped. “Not the knife. That smile.” Simon slowed so she caught up with him, but he was staring at the Beretta building in front of them.

  The rush of embarrassment heated her face and Sage didn’t know what to say. But it didn’t matter, because he continued, “You try that out on Theo Waxnicki, and he’ll do anything you want.”

  What about you?

  Sage stumbled on a rock and reached for Simon, who easily caught her arm and steadied her. Now her face blazed hot and red, as if she sat directly in front of a roaring fire. Where did that come from? I didn’t say that out loud, did I?

  “As you’ve already realized, there are gangas in there,” he said. His long, deceptively easy strides had taken them around the perimeter of the barricade once again, nearly to the hundred-eighty-degree mark from where she’d first approached. “They appear to be living on the lowest level—what’s left of it.”

  “And feeding off wolves?”

  Again he gave her that quick flash of a look. “Right. Wolves, and I’m guessing any humans who might venture into their area.” Simon bent forward and opened the sagging door of a large wheelless vehicle. “Follow me.”

  For the second time that day, Sage crawled into an automobile. But at least this time, she wasn’t running for her life. This auto was larger than the one she’d tumbled into, and though the roof was smashed into a deep vee, leaving the door unable to close properly and little head room, she still had plenty of space to crawl through.

  Despite the ache in her thigh and the hand that had been cut, Sage moved quickly and saw that the other side of the car was missing its door. Someone had already created a passageway through, and following Simon, she made her way up, down, left and right through a tunnel-like maze of the ruined cars.

  Mildew and mold grew beneath her hands, and their musty scent filled her nostrils. She noticed items left by the occupants of the cars a half-century earlier—rotting shoes, nibbled-upon bags, cans, and bottles. Some of them even had strings and ornaments dangling from a little mirror in the front of the car. Leaves and other debris crunched beneath her, and flaking rust and curling plastic caught at her hands and knees. Just as she reached the other side of the fifth vehicle, she felt a tug on her jeans.

  Startled, Sage turned to look behind her, certain that someone had reached up and grabbed her. She was proud of herself for not gasping, especially when she saw that she’d somehow just gotten hooked on a knob in the car.

  “I’m caught,” she said, twisting in the space to free herself. But she couldn’t undo whatever had gotten hold of her, and Simon had to help.

  “Hold still,” he said, sliding back past her, reaching around to free her belt loop from whatever had caught it. She hadn’t realized how tight it would be until his shoulder brushed against her waist, and his warm body nudged her. Then he was there, shoulder bumping her shoulder, so close she could hardly breathe…and when she did, over all the mustiness in the air, she smelled the clean, sharp scent that clung to his dark hair.

  Sage closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them, but dared not look over. He’d be too close…their faces only centimeters apart. Her breathing felt heavy and slow…and why were her hands suddenly damp on the palms?

  “Okay?” he said, right next to her ear. She was again aware of that subtle flavor of an accent, just enough to be intriguing…but not enough to obscure the syllables.

  “Yeah,” she said, and he eased back ahead of her again, his bare arm brushing against hers once more. Taut from holding himself up, his shoulder and biceps rounded hard and smooth beneath the sleeve of his black T-shirt, showing the bottom edge of a tattoo. His shirt had come loose from his jeans, and as he moved ahead of her, she saw the shadowy hint of a bare, smooth hip as he reached up to the roof of the car.

  Suddenly she was thirsty again. Really thirsty, and warm.

  He reached above and shifted something on the roof. There was a dull clunk and an opening appeared above them. Simon pulled himself up and through the top of the vehicle and moments later, a strong tanned arm reappeared to help pull her up and through.

  Instead of being in an open area in front of the Beretta building, as she’d expected, Sage found that they were in a shadowy area between two tall trucklike vehicles.

/>   “Stay here while I check on things,” he said. “Don’t move. Okay?”

  “I’m not stupid,” she said, thrusting her chin out at him.

  Simon looked at her in that way that made her belly flip. “No, you’re not.” And then he slipped away, leaving her alone in a silent, unfamiliar world.

  Simon had found only one way into the building, and it took him right through the darkened lobby—where the gangas lived.

  He hadn’t mentioned to Sage that there were just as many canine bones as human bones littering what had once been a highly polished black and yellow marble floor. Nor had he told her that there were about two dozen of the creatures trapped in there—obviously set to guard the place from inquisitive people like the two of them. He wondered how often someone came to provide the gangas with food—in the form of feral canines or unlucky humans. Or could the monsters subsist for months without food?

  During the day, the gangas must stay in the building, but at night they were free to roam within the perimeter of the vehicular barrier. The wolf that had attacked Sage must have somehow escaped from the corral. Fortunately, it hadn’t gone as far as the inhabited part of Envy, or something worse than a few cuts and scratches might have occurred.

  Simon mulled these thoughts as he moved out of Sage’s sight, forcing himself to keep his mind away from…other things.

  If he weren’t such a chavala, he’d have taken her back to the city and been done with it. But he’d seen the enthusiasm and determination in her eyes, and knew it wouldn’t be long before she was back here.

  Of course, he could have taken her back and turned her over to Theo Waxnicki, who could probably have kept an eye on her if he knew she’d try and come back. That would have been the smart thing to do.

  But no. He’d let a killer body and one soul-shattering smile override that sensible solution, and now he had to find a different way to get into the building so that she could come with him.

  Simon paused and listened. Silence.

  With a deep breath, he stilled, focused, and drew deep down inside himself, wavered…and disappeared.

  Now he could move quickly, walking across the empty corral toward the Beretta building. He remembered when it had been built, for Mancusi had been interested in one of the condos in what would be Vegas’s premier residential property.

  At least until the next hot development came along.

  The gangas might smell him, but they couldn’t see him, and Simon walked boldly through the entrance of the lobby. It had once been decorated with colorful blown glass that put the Bellagio’s famed glass flower ceiling to shame, but of course, there was nothing left of that but a few swaths of dirty, broken waves. Some of the gangas milled about, but most of them were sleeping or lying comatose—or whatever the fuck they did. The ever-present moaning ruuu-uuth came out in the form of snores and exhales from the prone monsters.

  He counted four that were up and about, and from the way they stiffened and looked in his direction, Simon knew they scented him.

  Ignoring the creatures, easily evading their clumsy feet and loglike arms, he hurried through the room, wondering how long Sage would stay put.

  I’m not stupid.

  Fuck no. And that was a big problem.

  Not that a woman like Sage would want anything to do with Simon anyway. Nor could he imagine even touching her with his corrupted hands.

  He saw a door in the corner and realized it would be the stairs. And that there might be a building exit in the stairwell.

  Moments later, Simon found just what he was looking for. The exit had been locked and barricaded from the inside, which was why he’d not been able to access it when he originally searched for the entrance. But it took him little effort to clear it away and open the door, thanks to the super strength he seemed to have acquired in that Sedona cave.

  When he returned to Sage, fully visible again, he found her sitting in nearly the same position in which he’d left her. “Ready?”

  She looked up at him, her lovely face dirt- and blood-streaked, her blue eyes accusing. “I thought you might have gone in without me.”

  Simon shrugged. Why should she trust him? She didn’t know him, and after all, she probably sensed he was exactly who he was: Simon Japp. Bodyguard, goon, right-hand man to Leonide Mancusi. He might have had a chance to start over, but his sins, his choices, his corruption, still clung to him like a bad odor.

  There was no sense in defending himself. “Come on.”

  Sage pulled to her feet, and he heard the faint groan of pain as she did so. The cut above her knee had bled into a large dark stain, and he noticed the way it stuck to her skin. That was going to hurt when she undressed—don’t think about that. And the cuts and scrapes on her hands…she was lucky they weren’t any worse. Maybe he should check on them before they went any farther.

  No. Dragon Boy will make sure she’s all patched up. And then some.

  They crossed the corral-like space between the vehicle barrier and the building, running the twenty yards quickly and silently to the door Simon had left open. It was unlikely that the gangas would see them from inside the building, and if they did, they’d never figure out where they went or how to find them. Nor could they venture into the sunlight.

  Simon was confident they were safe.

  “Lots of flights to go,” he said once they were inside the dim stairwell. There was only a window every three or four floors, so the light was iffy. “Twenty-three floors.”

  “No problem,” she told him, flashing a quicker, less potent version of the smile that had fairly dropped him to his knees earlier. “I always take the stairs to my room. On the fourteenth floor.”

  Simon nodded. It was obvious she got her exercise despite the hours sitting at a computer table. She had a sweet ass and slender, delicate body with curves exactly where they should be.

  And she was going to be climbing twenty-three flights of stairs in front of him.

  “I’ll go first,” he said, slipping past her. “One flight at a time, then you follow.”

  She nodded, surprising him when he was prepared to have to argue and explain the logic of allowing his heavier weight to confirm that the old steps were stable. “Right behind you.”

  Simon turned and jogged up the first few flights. The steps were metal and the railings completely intact, except for peeling paint, even after fifty years. He’d gone up a different stairwell awhile earlier, and was confident that they would hold. But it was a good excuse to not have to torture himself.

  Twenty minutes later, they reached the top floor of the tower where Remington Truth had a penthouse. Birds fluttered and took flight as Simon and Sage walked across what would have been the threshold to the condo’s entrance. Something rustled in a pile of leaves caught up in the corner.

  The apartment’s expansive French doors sagged in place. On the next wall, a stream of light came through a wedge of broken window, while the rest of the plate glass shone grimy and gray. A lush patch of green grew on the floor in an elongated vee where the pure sun would shine and rain would enter, though a bit of tenacious growth attempted to spread beyond the triangular patch.

  “I can’t believe it’s still intact,” commented Sage.

  Simon raised a finger to his lips and gestured for her to hold back. He didn’t think anyone was here, but he wasn’t about to assume anything. On feet silent over the dried leaves and branches, he moved to the doors and carefully peered into the room beyond.

  The place was in shambles, as one would expect. Shadowy furnishings melded with strips and patches of sunlight, and vines and bushes sprouted everywhere. Nothing moved. No sign of life.

  Easing the door open, he slipped through and crooked his finger for Sage to follow.

  She raised her brows as if to ask permission to speak—why did women always have to talk?—and he nodded, shifting away so that he wouldn’t brush against her shoulder.

  “If he was one of the Strangers, one of the people that caused the Change,
do you think he meant to live here After?” she asked, looking around the room. “I mean, it might not be an accident that his home wasn’t destroyed. Do you think?”

  Good point. Simon shrugged. “You might be right. But he’s not here now.”

  “And he hasn’t been here for decades. Or they wouldn’t be looking for him. I mean, if you found out about this place so easily…” She’d moved along the perimeter of the room, trailing her hand over leather sofas and along a long sleek table, kicking up dust and disturbing birds, mice, and God knew what else. It didn’t seem to bother her, though.

  Not squeamish. Smart and practical. And the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  Pinche.

  Simon turned away and cruised along the other side of the room, then down a dark hall. Something slithered over his foot and he kicked it away, then felt something else bump into his heel as it scurried for safety. No, Remington Truth hadn’t lived here for a long time.

  He wasn’t certain exactly what to look for anyway. Surely anything of interest would have been destroyed or found long before now.

  What had been the master bedroom opened before him, complete with a waterbed long since drained and a jetted tub large enough for half a dozen people. The skylight over the tub was broken, and tall slender plants grew in the circle of light, spindly and greedy for sun. They looked like skinny bamboo plants, with their random, delicate leaves near the top.

  Maybe Truth had some good-luck feng shui bamboo that had sprouted. Simon grimaced as he was reminded that, along with her myriad of crystals, Florita had grown a few stalks of curling green bamboo in a glass vase. She’d lectured Simon on how important their position and placement was for good fortune.

  That was early on, when he’d been assigned as her bodyguard, and he’d had no choice but to listen to her prattle on. And on. And on. But then she’d tried to get too friendly with Simon, Mancusi found out…and he’d shipped Florita and her fake tits off with her crystals and bamboo and red candles. But not long after, in true fuck-you spirit, she’d made it huge on the big screen.