by L. J. Red
The one by the desk straightened up. “Got it,” he said in a low voice, and I saw him raise the file. The case file. Valerian’s case file. Shit. I couldn’t let them take it. What the hell did they want that for? I kicked the door open and came in swinging. I got the first guy as he was turning toward me, a strike square accross his face. He fell backward over the desk and the file went up in the air, papers cascading all over the place.
“Shit, she’s awake.”
I took a second step into the room and that’s when the third man, the one I hadn’t seen, hit me from behind. I went down hard. I must have blacked out for a moment; when I came to, they were gone but I could hear them on the stairway, the thunk and thud of their boots. I tried to leap to my feet and managed something more like a slow roll. I felt sick. Shit, that blow to the head had been bad. I was going to have a fantastic lump the next morning.
Using the baseball bat to prop myself upright, I stumbled over to the door, jogging down the hallway after them. I almost fell down the stairs, just catching the railing at the last moment, the baseball bat slipping out of my grasp and rolling down before me. They were getting away, sprinting out of the building into the night. I crouched to scoop up the bat and ran out the door into the street.
At this hour the streets were empty, and, other than me, the three thieves were the only ones to be seen, their running shapes merging with the darkness. And then one of the shadows in the corner of my vision moved. Not a shadow, a person. The shape resolved into a broad recognizable silhouette. Valerian. He moved through the night like it was made for him. One second level with me, the next halfway across the street. He was on them before they even had a chance to scream.
I ran toward the fight, though calling it a fight wasn’t quite right. It was carnage.
I had never seen Valerian in action before. I should have guessed he would do it like he did everything: with grace, with fury, and with a lethal single-mindedness that stopped my breath.
The men didn’t stand a chance.
He threw the first onto the ground, swiping him across his chest with the blow so hard I heard his ribs crunch from ten paces away. Then Valerian spun around, pivoting, with the center of his gravity low, his long legs out wide, and caught the other in the backs of his knees. The man went down with a crack, his head striking the ground, and he went still. I think that was the one I had caught across the face once already. Maybe we would have matching bruises. The third man hadn’t stuck around to save his friends; he was sprinting for freedom.
I was close enough to catch a glimpse of Valerian’s eyes. They were black, pure black, and the rage within them was terrifying to see. There was nothing human in him, all fangs, all teeth, all fury, and it terrified me. He wasn’t going to let any of them get away alive. He leaped after the third man, launching with enough power it was like he was flying through the air, and landed on the man’s back, his jaws wide. He bit down, his teeth ripping through the man’s throat, blood spraying into the dark.
I felt the veil between the worlds shiver. The anticipation of death.
“Stop,” I shouted. I ran closer toward them but slowed as I approached, terror stiffening my limbs. Valerian was a predator intent on his prey, and just like you wouldn’t interrupt a lion at his meal, interrupting a vampire could be fatal. “You can’t kill him, Valerian.”
He didn’t seem to hear me.
A shot rang out and Valerian’s body juddered with impact, throwing him forward and off the man. I had ducked at the noise and now I twisted around to look back. The first man had one hand clutched around his broken ribs, the other grabbing his gun.
“Stop,” I shouted, raising my hand, but what was I going to do against a gun?
I didn’t know if Valerian was moving. Was he dead? An icy hand gripped my heart. I shouldn’t have cared. I should have been glad. So why did it feel like it was my own body the bullet had landed in?
The veil rippled once more, parted like silk, and the half world rose around me. Dark shadows clustered around the edges of my gaze. Were they really there, or was it internal bleeding from the blow to my head? Was I going to pass out?
I felt my power flex, deep and strange, echoey, almost twinned, strands reaching out between me and Valerian. I felt strong. Stronger than I’d ever felt before, and the man with the gun seemed to suddenly sharpen in my vision. I could see the paleness of his face, drawn tight from the pain in his ribs. I could see the whites of his eyes. Almost without thinking I reached for him, my magic flowing down my shoulder to my elbow to my wrist and out my fingertips like tiny invisible wires straining toward him.
He shivered again, swayed, almost fell. Something ran down the wires from him to me. Something bright and shining and full of life, it burst against my skin like breathing in a bubble of air underwater. His grip on the gun loosened and hit the ground with a crack. The sound of it striking the tarmac broke my daze, and suddenly the wires were gone, the connection broken and my sense of the half world was torn away.
Sound rushed in again, the pulse and thunder of my blood in my veins. Shadows clustered, blooming across my vision. I went down to my knees, exhausted suddenly. Feeling like I’d run a mile, my muscles loose and sore. But as I fell, Valerian rose. His eyes were wicked, and the moment he saw me on the ground, any shred of humanity left them.
I realized what I had thought was rage was nothing to what he was riding now. His eyes lit with incandescent fury. If I didn’t do something none of the three men were going to make it out alive.
Chapter 8
I shoved myself to my feet, stumbling upright, and launched myself not at the men but at Valerian. I crashed into him just as he leaped towards the man with the broken ribs.
His body was like solid stone against mine, but he stopped moving. I didn’t have the energy to think, to be afraid, I was exhausted from whatever I’d done to make the man drop the gun. “Don’t kill them,” I said, staring up at a face that was all black eyes, white fangs, and blood-red lips. “I need them to answer my questions,” I said, then I passed out.
Not exactly my finest moment.
When I came to, I was lying on something smooth and hard and the world was painted in red and blue. I rolled over and came face-to-face with a collarbone. My eyes traveled up and saw a neck, a jawline, lips, teeth, fangs.
“Holy shit.” I jerked back, then winced, halting my movement and clutching my head. I could feel the lump under my fingertips.
“Easy,” Valerian said. His voice rumbled through his chest and right through me, we were pressed so close.
I pushed myself away from him. There was a police car parked a little way from us and an ambulance beyond it, a paramedic just shoving the doors closed. Valerian moved out of the corner of my eye and I spun back to face him, regretting the movement when my head ached. “Don’t come near me,” I spat.
“You were the one who jumped on me.”
I glared at him. “You were going to kill them,” I said, dropping my voice low, aware of the police. “What happened?”
He looked at me. “You passed out,” he said. “I was distracted.”
Distracted? By me?
“The police arrived.”
Oh, right. By the cops. That made more sense.
“I wanted to question them,” I said, angrily. I could feel a migraine coming on. “Fucking hell, Valerian. They were after the file.”
“The file?” He frowned. “The file I gave you?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Why?”
“How should I know? That’s why I wanted to question them.”
“So…” he looked at me sidelong. “You’re taking the case then.”
I looked around us. The night was cold enough to make me shiver. Would I take it? Three nameless goons turned up out of nowhere, broke into my apartment, and tried to steal from me. I had a reputation to uphold, and more than that, I was pissed. “Yes,” I ground out. “I’ll take it.” I saw triumph flair in Valerian’s eyes but he mas
ked it quickly. “Don’t kid yourself,” I said, taking a step away from him. “I’m doing this to prove exactly what kind of scum you vampires are. I’m not doing this for you.”
He stood, unfolding in one fluid movement. Hadn’t he been shot? He didn’t even seem injured. The thought distracted me and he was suddenly standing before me quicker than I could step away. My skin crawled at the nearness of him, fear rising up my spine, ice in my veins. My gaze snagged on his fangs, sharp, white, and wicked. I could feel my heart stutter in my chest. “Don’t,” I said, raising a hand toward him that shook. “Don’t come near me.”
“We’re going to be working together—”
“I don’t want to hear it, all right? We’re not working together. I’m taking the case and I’ll investigate it my way. That doesn’t involve you.”
“You’ll need me to get into the court,” he said.
“Fine,” I snapped, “you can be my fucking doorman. How’s that?”
“I’ll be whatever you need me to be,” he said, his voice low, eyes intent and then after a moment as if he’d almost forgotten, he added, “as the queen ordered.”
“Well, what I need is for you to get the hell away from me.”
He looked on the verge of saying something more, but he took in my expression and clearly thought better of it, finally taking a step away. I turned to look out at the street. There was a dark patch of blood staining the tarmac. “You were going to kill him,” I said, staring at it. “The man with the gun, you were going to kill him. I saw it in your eyes.”
“He didn’t deserve to live,” Valerian said.
Fucking vampires, I thought. “You don’t get to decide who deserves to live or die.”
“He hurt you,” Valerian said.
“He’s not the first,” I spat, and memory shifted like quicksand. For a moment I thought I saw something slink through his gaze. Remorse? Was he even capable of an emotion like that?
“You can’t just go around killing people, Valerian, not if this whole bullshit case is about clearing you vampires’ reputation.”
“No,” There was something light and teasing in his voice. His eyes sparkled as they caught the light. “I guess not. People frown on that sort of thing. It is so tedious.” Tedious. I rolled my eyes. Right. Not murdering people was tedious. “Far simpler”—he grinned, his fangs sharp—“when you could simply remove anyone who got in your way.”
He wasn’t joking. I could see he meant it, despite the smirk. They were all like this. Vampires. Fucking psychos. I didn’t know if it was living for such a long time that erased their humanity or if vampires only turned people who already were psychopaths but I had never met a vampire who wasn’t one. Oh sure, they could mimic human emotion just like psychopaths could. But when you got down to it, when you asked them to feel, to care, to love? They didn’t know how. They were selfish, vicious, and dangerous. And I wasn’t going to let myself forget it. It didn’t matter what he looked like. It didn’t matter what half-remembered feelings he brought out in me. He was just like the rest of them. He had proven that a long time ago.
I’ll take the case,” I said finally. “They didn’t get the file; it’s still up in my apartment. Tomorrow night you can take me to court. I’ve got some questions to ask your queen.” I turned away from him.
“You need a doctor,” he said, waving for one of the paramedics to come over.
“I’ll be fine.” I just wanted to go back to my apartment.
“You passed out,” he snapped, “a blow to the head. I felt the lump.”
“Did I ask you to touch me?” I snapped, feeling violated.
“You were out cold, Tiana,” he said. “I was—”
“Don’t bullshit me,” I cut him off. “You were worried your investment would be ruined and you would have to find some other PI to take your case.”
He glared at me and I was glad. That was an expression I wanted to see reflected in his eyes. It kept things simple when we hated each other.
“Tiana.” He took a step toward me, reaching out, and winced, his hand going to his shoulder.
I frowned. Shit, so he had caught a bullet. I’d thought so.
“How bad is it?” I asked grudgingly.
“It’s fine,” he said.
“This is a good neighborhood,” I lied shamelessly. “I can’t have a dead vampire passing out in the corner and then burning himself to death when the sun comes out just because you were too stubborn to seek medical attention.”
“I believe the phrase is, pot meet kettle,” he said, his eyes sharp, and his lips quirked into a grin.
I grit my teeth. “Fine,” I said. I turned to meet the paramedic.
“Oh, so we are allowed to get close now?” she said, shooting an angry look at Valerian. “Your bodyguard wouldn’t let anyone near you.”
“I’m fine,” I told her.
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
She took me through the usual routine after a blow to the head, the flashing light in my eyes not helping my headache at all.
“You’ve done this before I take it?” she said, taking in my bored compliance. “Got someone to keep you awake?” She glanced at Valerian.
I had a sudden vision of Valerian in my bed, the covers around us in tangles, our bodies pressed up close. I gasped, jerking back. “No.”
“No?”
“No, I mean yes.” I refocused on the paramedic, studiously ignoring Valerian. “I can call a friend.” Jazz would be thrilled to be woken in the middle of the night I was sure, but no fucking way was I letting Valerian into my apartment.
Someone shouted from the ambulance and the paramedic turned, waving her hand. “Coming.” She looked back at me. “We have to get the other three to the hospital.” Her lips flattened into a line. “They’re in bad shape.”
“Hey, they’re the bad guys here.”
“Yeah, the detective interviewed your… friend already,” she said, starting to walk away.
“Detective?”
“He left with the first ambulance, said you could give your statement tomorrow at the precinct.”
Great. Something to look forward to.
I turned to Valerian. “Wait, your bullet wound.” The ambulance was already pulling out, the police car behind it.
“It’s nothing,” he said. “A scratch.”
“Are you trying to impress me?” I snapped. “Because it isn’t working.” The front of his shirt was still pristine white which meant the bullet was still lodged in his back. “Turn around,” I said. Slowly he did so and I saw the rose-red bloom of blood across his shoulder. “I need to call them back.”
“No,” he snapped, “there is no need for that. If you have something to get the bullet out, my healing will kick in.”
“Why aren’t you healing now?”
“The bullet is lodged under my shoulder blade.” He turned back to me. “It will need pulling out.”
“I have something in my apartment,” I said begrudgingly. He took a step toward me. “Whoa, buddy.” I took a sharp step back so he wasn’t looming over me and held out my hands. “I’m not inviting you into my apartment so don’t even try. Wait here,” I said, and I went up to my apartment to get my first-aid kit.
After I’d come back from enough cases bruised and bloodied, I’d started keeping a full first-aid kit in my bathroom, it saved time.
When I came back down, he’d already taken off his shirt. I hesitated in the doorway, most definitely not distracted by the way the light from the streetlamps seemed to highlight every line and curve of his muscles. I swallowed roughly. It was the dizziness, the head injury, making me woozy. Right.
I walked up to him. “Turn around,” I said, my voice low.
He took a moment. I could feel his eyes on me, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of meeting his gaze and kept my own focused somewhere above his right shoulder. Finally, he turned and I sucked in a breath at the messy, bloodied entry wound from the bullet.
I took
a step closer. I could smell the salty tang of blood. The indefinable male scent that I had been trying to get out of my mind ever since he’d turned up on my doorstep. I crouched and busied myself pulling out the tweezers from the first-aid kit. This close to him, I could feel my magic reacting. It behaved differently to him than it would to a living breathing human. The living it pretty much ignored. Valerian, being dead, was a kindred spirit and it welcomed him, reaching out soft little fingers of magic. I cut them off brutally and forced my magic back down inside my chest, pulling tight the veil between the worlds. None of that, thank you. But I couldn’t block my sense of him entirely.
Like I’d noticed when he was stalking me over the past few days, his presence was sharper. There was an edge to it, the spark running between us. I couldn’t understand it. I took a deep breath, held the tweezers in one hand, and then rested my other on his shoulder. The spark jumped from skin to skin again and I shivered. Nerves. Had to be nerves. Valerian was like a rock under my palm. He couldn’t have felt it. It was just in my head. I gripped the tweezers tightly, my palms already sweaty. “Brace yourself,” I said, and then I shoved the tweezers into his back.
I heard him take in a sharp inhale but he betrayed no other outward sign to the fact that I was rummaging around inside his wound with a tiny piece of metal. It was nerve-racking and more than a little disgusting, the wound making wet, squelchy noises as I twisted the tweezers around, finally clinking against the bullet that was lodged, as he had said, under his shoulder blade. It took me a while to get a firm grip on it, the points of the tweezers slipping off the metal a couple of times before I finally gripped it securely and was able to draw it out.
I stared as the flesh of his back knitted itself together until all that was left was blood smeared over smooth unbroken skin. I was still touching him I realized, and I jerked back, letting him go, stumbling slightly as the backs of my heels hit the bottom step. “All done,” I said. My heart was beating fast. I needed to get away from him. I packed up my first-aid kit one-handed, my other hand bloodied. I didn’t want to think about the fact it was Valerian’s blood that had got onto the base of my thumb and the tips of my fingers. I didn’t look at him as I quickly tucked the first-aid kit under my arm and started to climb the steps.