TO BLACK WITH LOVE: Quentin Black Mystery #10

by Andrijeski, JC

  It took even longer for one of us to break that silence.

  “Goddamn,” Cowboy muttered then, leaning back in his chair.

  I looked at him, then at Angel, who I realized only now was crying, wiping her eyes with her fingers as she sniffled, fighting to pull her facial expression under control. Cowboy held her other hand in his lap, squeezing her fingers and palm in his.

  I glanced at Jem next, who still looked furious, so filled with rage he didn’t trust himself to speak, or to move from where he still gripped the back of my chair.

  Finally, I looked at Black.

  He looked as sucker-punched as Angel, and almost as angry as Jem.

  I watched him wipe his eyes with the side of his hand, still gripping my thigh with his fingers, his mouth curled in an angry, grief-filled frown.

  I wondered why I wasn’t crying.

  I wondered how Angel and Black could cry and I couldn’t.

  I was still looking at Black, gripping his hand where he held my thigh, when voices erupted in my earpiece.

  Before I could make out the exact words, or even determine who was speaking, I heard something else. The sound echoed through the piece of green metal in my ear, so familiar I was already reaching for my sidearm before a conscious thought had reached my mind.

  Gunshots.

  * * *

  I ROSE TO my feet as Black did.

  All of us were heading for the black-painted corridor even as Black touched his earpiece, speaking loudly as we half-jogged towards the building’s entrance.

  “Javier. Talk to me.”

  I touched my own ear, straining to make sense of what I could hear on the other end of the line. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t at the California Street building.

  I could hear traffic, the sounds of civilians shouting, screams.

  It was outside this building, on Valencia Street.

  Javier’s voice rose.

  “Someone’s opened fire… at least thirty separate guns ID’d, and that’s just now.”

  “Shooting at you?” Black said.

  We were most of the way to the front of the warehouse building.

  Javier cut out briefly, then his voice rose, louder.

  “No. The vampires. Repeat… vampires are the targets, not our people.”

  Immediately, my mind went to Nick.

  I glanced at Jem, who walked beside me. He frowned as he met my gaze.

  You’re not going out there, he growled in my mind. Forget it.

  Black gave him a hard, visibly annoyed look. Taking my hand, he pulled me closer, and I walked faster to keep up with his longer strides. Pushing aside what Jem had said, I focused back on the humans on the other end of his earpiece when Black spoke.

  “Return fire,” he growled. “Protect Nick, if you can.” His voice lowered, turning gruff. “You’re sure they aren’t ours? Someone who heard what was going on in here? Most of you got the live audio feed of the meeting, right?”

  “We did,” Javier confirmed. “But that’s a negative on our people. All of ours are accounted for.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “That’s affirmative, sir. Yes.” There was a short pause. “It’s Lucky’s people. We just got visual confirmation on two of them. They’ve been positively ID’d by facial-rec.” Javier’s voice turned grim. “I recognize them too, boss.”

  “Send it to me. Now.”

  Black pulled his phone out of his jacket without letting go of my hand, making the next turn in the corridor. The steel door stood just ahead of us now. Two of the seers from the new infiltration team stood on either side of it, their oddly-colored eyes shining in the wall lights as they turned to watch us approach.

  “Are they still shooting right outside?” Black said.

  “No, sir,” the first seer said at once, bowing in a seer way.

  “They’ve got them on the run now, sir,” the second added, gripping the bar-like handle of the door. “The vampires, I mean… they’re all running, sir. Most of the shooters are traveling on the roofs. The gunfire has moved a few blocks over.”

  “Then what are you waiting for?” Black said to them in a growl. “Open it.”

  He swiped the front of his phone as he said it, without slowing his pace towards the door. I saw him go into the encrypted text function for the company, where two photographs were already waiting for him. He clicked the first one to bring the image up.

  Then he came to a dead stop.

  I stopped with him in bewilderment, jerked forward and back by how fast he halted his forward motion. I looked over, puzzled, as he stared down at the first image Javier had sent to his phone. He didn’t so much as glance up as the steel door opened with a screech in front of us, letting in an orange wash of streetlights, and the sound of receding gunfire.

  Seeing him pale, I squeezed his hand.

  What? I gripped him tighter. Who is it?

  Black turned, staring at me, as if he wasn’t sure how––or whether––to answer me. Then his jaw hardened, right before he seemed to make up his mind.

  Without a word, he handed me his phone. Taking it from him, still watching his face warily, I swiped the glass front with a finger to bring the image up.

  When I did, I couldn’t help it, I sucked in a breath.

  Black’s light coiled into mine, so densely and hotly, I fought to feel myself apart from him, to think past the heat and intensity of his presence.

  Despite that, I didn’t look up from his phone.

  I didn’t look away from the image of the man depicted there.

  I gazed at the familiar face numbly, staring at a pair of eyes I thought I’d never see again, that I’d nearly convinced myself no longer existed in the same world as me. A light up on the roof where he crouched illuminated every inch of his face, leaving almost no shadow, despite it being night outside those doors. In the still image the drone captured, his head was turned towards the camera, not quite looking at it directly, but turned towards it enough that there could be no question as to who he was.

  It was him. It couldn’t be anyone but him.

  His hair was shorter than I remembered.

  Someone shaved it down to less than an inch all over his head.

  He wore a black tank-top despite it being December, two rifles strapped around his back and chest. His left bicep displayed a highly-detailed sword and sun tattoo I remembered. More tattoos covered the visible parts of his back through the gaps left by the tank top, crawling up his neck. I knew they covered most of his back, from his neck down to his thighs.

  On his other arm, which flexed where that hand gripped his second rifle, a dragon coiled around his bicep.

  I kept returning to those violet eyes.

  They looked exactly the way I remembered.

  I remembered how shocked I’d been when I’d first seen them, and him, in that dingy basement apartment in Bangkok. I remembered thinking he didn’t look real, that he looked more like a pale statue than a living person. I remembered thinking he looked like some kind of mythological creature, that he was too beautiful to be real.

  I remembered thinking he looked like a vampire.

  “Solonik,” I breathed.

  My breath hitched in my chest.

  It put me back there, not just in that Bangkok basement where he’d tied me up and raped me for days, where he’d called me his girlfriend and ripped apart my light so I couldn’t keep him out––but back into that earlier version of me, back to the Miriam I was before any of this happened. That Miriam was a forensic psychologist.

  She barely knew Black, had no real family apart from Nick, always felt like she was on her own, despite how much she loved her friends.

  But was that even true by then?

  I remembered screaming for Black in the dark, even then.

  I remember him being the family I ran to, at the worst moment of my life.

  That was when everything changed with me and Black.

  Now I wondered if that had partly been Solonik’
s doing, too.

  After what Solonik did, I couldn’t keep Black out, either. For all I knew, Black and I initially bonded because, for the first time since I’d met him, I wasn’t able to keep him at arm’s length. I wasn’t able to shut him out, using the shielding tricks my dad taught me. I wasn’t able to force him behind those walls I’d used to keep everyone at a distance since my sister died, even Nick and Angel… even Ian, despite our being engaged.

  Once my walls came down, Black got into my light, just like Solonik did.

  The difference was, my light wanted Black there.

  I remembered Solonik ripping open those shields, doing it with a casual, businesslike efficiency that somehow made the violation worse. I remembered him covering me in his light once he’d ripped me open, building structures in me so he could track me and read me, claiming me in a way I hadn’t known was possible––

  Miri. Miri… honey. Hey.

  I looked up.

  Black stood there, gripping my arm.

  I met his worried, gold-flecked eyes, even as he reached up with his other hand, stroking my cheek with the backs of his fingers, caressing my hair out of my face. His light coiled so tightly around mine, I could barely distinguish it from my own.

  Reaching carefully for my other hand, he plucked the phone gently from my fingers.

  Miri, honey. His light and mind soothed mine, pulling and stroking my aleimi gently, drawing it deeper into his. Miri, I want you to stay here. Please. Just wait here, okay, honey? I’m going to leave you with Jem.

  Biting my lip, I shook my head, my jaw clenching so hard it hurt.

  “No,” I said.

  My voice came out in a growl.

  Black tugged me closer.

  “Miri, please,” he murmured. “Please. Listen to me on this. I need you to stay inside.”

  “NO!” My hands clenched into fists. “You’re not fucking leaving me, Black. You’re not leaving me! Not with him here! No fucking way!”

  Black blinked, staring down at me.

  Then, some part of him seemed to go back there too, to those early days in Thailand. I saw him understand. More than understand. Heat rose to his eyes, even as he reached for me, pulling me closer.

  He nodded slowly as he did, his expression clearing.

  “Okay.” He gripped my hand tighter. “Okay, Miri.”

  I felt something in my chest relax.

  Then another voice rose from right next to me.

  “Not okay,” Jem growled.

  His angry voice made me jump, then made both me and Black turn. We stared at him, and I felt a kind of wall of solidarity go up between us and him.

  Jem glared only at me.

  “Not okay, Miriam! Not okay with Nick out there… not when he’s in some kind of new-vampire homicidal state and obviously still has issues with you… and your husband… and sex. Not with some fixated seer stalking you who’s already fucking raped you, if I’m reading the two of you correctly.” He paused to glare at Black before adding, “A fixated seer who feels like a goddamned rank eleven in actual… if not higher.”

  “Rank 11?” Jax muttered from my other side, reinforcing his grip on his rifle, glancing at Kiessa, who stood next to him. “Gaos d’ jurekil’a… are you sure, brother?”

  “At least that, brother,” Jem said, giving the younger seer a hard look. “He may not be a Balidor, but he’s another fucking Ditrini all over again.”

  “Gaos,” Holo muttered from his other side, giving me and Black a nervous look. “And he’s interested in the doc? Her specifically?”

  Jem glared at Black, who I felt reacting to the green-eyed seer’s words as well.

  Black didn’t react precisely the way Jax and Holo had, presumably because they knew who “Balidor” and “Ditrini” were, whereas Black had no clue. Still, I could feel the “rank 11” designation hit him hard enough that he hesitated, thinking about Jem’s words. I also felt Black piecing it together with things that happened in Bangkok, things that bewildered him at the time.

  He’d definitely wondered how Solonik had done some of the things he’d done.

  He’d even wondered if Solonik had help.

  Jem’s pale green eyes were focused on me now.

  “No fucking way, Miriam,” he growled.

  At my frown, he seemed to see something in my face. Whatever he saw, it made him hesitate, just before his voice lowered, growing more serious.

  “Look,” he said. “I am sorry for reading you just now, sister. I am. I didn’t intend to invade your privacy like that, but you are telegraphing trauma on this. It is too loud for me to ignore… and your husband isn’t okay with this thing, either. It is obvious to me your light is still scarred by what this Solonik did to you, and that it is affecting both of you. Him being here, leading the team hunting Nick… it cannot be a coincidence.”

  He clicked loudly, obviously displeased by the combination of factors.

  “Please, Miri,” he said. “Black will listen to you. Tell him to stand down. I cannot in good conscience allow you… much less both of you… to put yourselves at risk by going out there right now. Let us take you back to California Street. The rest of us can handle what is going on down here.”

  I just stared at him, less intimidated than blank.

  I seriously had no idea how he felt like he had a vote.

  I also had no idea why he was trying to use me to manage Black.

  Before I could speak, Black inserted himself neatly between me and Jem, straightening to his full height. Looking between the two of them, I couldn’t help but see two wolves posturing, the gold eyes meeting the green, both of them exuding a harder light.

  I also couldn’t help noticing that Black actually looked taller now than he had when I’d first met him.

  He really looked taller. He looked like he might be a few full inches taller.

  He was nearly Jem’s height now.

  “Don’t fucking go through my wife,” Black said, his gold eyes hard. “Do you hear me? Don’t go through my fucking wife. Stay out of my wife’s fucking mind. Out of her light. I don’t give a fuck what she’s telegraphing, brother.”

  “Something is coming, Black,” Jem growled. He took a half-step forward, staring down at him. “Don’t pretend you can’t feel it! I don’t know what’s behind it, or who, if it’s vampires or those goddamned Mythers, but you and Miri are right at the fucking center of it!”

  “And we’re not the only ones dealing with trauma!” Black growled, stepping closer to meet Jem’s aggressive stance. “I’m not my goddamned cousin. And Miri’s not my cousin’s wife. You need to back the fuck off… now. Or I’m going to be a hell of a lot less polite in asking.”

  Jem blinked at him, his eyes visibly startled.

  He looked from Black to me, then scowled, staring at Black.

  “Believe me,” he muttered angrily. “I know you’re not him.”

  “Bullshit!” Black growled. “Moreover, you’re jealous of Miri. And we both know why. You need to back off, now. I’m your boss, goddamn it. Accept that, or get the fuck out.”

  Jem’s face hardened.

  He looked about to speak, but before he could, heat flashed from somewhere below Black’s feet. I felt the wave of black fire rise up through his aleimi like liquid smoke. It reached his hands, his heart, his throat… then his eyes, briefly igniting that paler gold in his flecked, cat-like irises.

  Jem flinched back violently.

  I watched the taller seer blanch, staring at Black’s eyes like he’d seen a ghost.

  Taking a step back, he continued to stare at him, at his eyes, breathing harder. He looked at me, his green and violet eyes wide with shock, then returned his stare to Black.

  “Gaos di’lalente… what in the hell are you?”

  I found myself stepping closer to Black.

  After a bare breath, I inserted myself between them, much as Black had done with Jem and me. As I did, I coiled my arm around Black’s waist, doing it more in instinct than thou
ght, pressing myself against him. I felt those structures below Black’s feet wind into me the instant I did, pulling me deeper into that star-filled, churning space. I felt Black’s relief, but also a surge of possessiveness and protectiveness that caught my breath.

  I kept my eyes on Jem.

  “Jem,” I told the older seer, my voice stern. “Black’s right. Okay? He’s right. You’re upset about the Nick thing. We all are. It’s also triggering things in you. So is this Solonik thing. But we need you to focus on being here. On right now. Not on whatever happened in that other world. Can you do that?”

  I waited a beat, watching his face.

  When he remained silent, I went on in the same voice.

  “It’s okay if you can’t,” I said. “It really is. Black and I will both understand. But we need you to be honest about it, so Black can decide where to put you right now.”

  Jem’s jaw hardened.

  I felt my words reach him, but he was still stuck on Black’s eyes, still staring at his irises like he expected them to burst into flames. When he didn’t look over, didn’t directly acknowledge my words, I reached for his arm. I touched it lightly with my fingers.

  I did it more to get the other seer to look at me, but the ex-Adhipan infiltrator jumped violently. Breathing harder, he looked down at me.

  “Jem?” I said. “Are you going to be okay? Right now, I mean.”

  Jem stared at me blankly, like he couldn’t comprehend what I’d said.

  Then he glanced around at where the three of us stood.

  For the first time, I realized it wasn’t only Jem staring at us. Every seer and human who’d accompanied us into that warehouse now stood in the building’s foyer, watching me and Black. I also saw more than just Jem staring at Black’s eyes. Holo, Jax, Mika and Yarli stared the hardest, but all of the seers in the foyer stared at Black like they’d seen a ghost.

  None of the others looked quite as pale and disturbed as Jem did, though.

  Frowning, I glanced up at Black.

  He shrugged, rolling his eyes a little.

  Whatever their problem was, he obviously thought they were overreacting.

  I was about to ask him what we should do now, whether we should send Jem back to the California Street building with a handful of the others, whether we should send a team after Nick or Solonik or go after them ourselves––