Crimson Night (Night Series Book 1)

by R. S. Black

  I materialized back in my trailer, threw my items to the ground, then whirled on him and screamed. “Just leave me the hell alone. I don’t want to talk about it, this, or you, anymore. Just go away!”

  “No.” He stomped after me, grabbing my elbow as I walked through my bedroom door and jerked me back around. “I’m not gonna go away. I think it’s time we talked this out.”

  “Why? So you can yet again be an unfeeling, unemotional bastard?” I rolled my eyes. “No, thanks.” I slapped his hand off, then threw myself down on the bed face first and squeezed my eyes shut, hoping he’d take the hint and leave me alone. Porting wouldn’t do—he’d follow me again—so I waited, but Luc rarely did what I want him to.

  “What’s this?” he asked, holding the ring in his hand as he studied it.

  I almost groaned. I should have hidden it. I got to my knees and snatched it out of his hand. Opening my nightstand drawer, I threw it inside, then slammed it shut. “Nothing.”

  “That didn’t look like nothing. What was that thing, Pandora?”

  I refused to answer him. I owed him nothing.

  “What. Was. It?” He dropped onto the bed and with each word crawled toward me, forcing me to back up until I was pressed against the headboard and couldn’t move anymore.

  I rubbed the bridge of my nose. So much for a peaceful morning. What was happening between us? Granted, things had never been cozy and perfect, but this was ridiculous.

  “Grace gave it to me, okay?” I huffed, trying in my own way to extend an olive branch. I didn’t want to fight with Luc, contrary to the events of the past few days. Hell, I preferred being ignored over this any day of the week.

  “Is it a weapon?”

  Most people would have assumed it was little more than a harmless bauble. Of course Luc wasn’t most people. Sometimes I hated his intuition.

  “Yes,” I hissed, not liking where this topic would eventually lead.

  “Then why aren’t you wearing it?”

  I squeezed my lips shut, anger beginning to rear its ugly head.

  “Have you gotten it through your thick skull yet, or are you just stupid? That man, Billy,” he sneered, “is out to kill you. He doesn’t want to bang you. He doesn’t want to buy you roses and whisper sweet nothings to you. He wants to rip your head off and stick it on a pike.” You could have heard a pin drop in the ensuing silence. Every word like a stab through my heart until I no longer burned with anger; my blood froze with it. “How dare you?”

  He gave me a cruel smile of fangs and teeth. “I dare much, especially when it involves something of mine.”

  “Get off your bloody high horse,” I snapped, “you had your chance and burned that bridge a long time ago. I’m not yours.” I yanked my shirt up, exposing my scar as if it were a weapon. “I may bear your mark, but it doesn’t make me yours.”

  He touched the scar with trembling fingers, anguish written in his gaze for a split second, then it turned hot with rage. “You gonna lord this over me forever?”

  “Ha!” I laughed, and the sound of it was wild. “Lord it over you. That’s rich. You nearly killed me,” I screamed. “What did I ever do to you except love you?” I took in a stuttery breath, pulling my shirt down and moving away from him. “Why do you do this to me? Why?” My words trembled, my heart ached.

  There was a lengthy pause. “You know why.”

  I looked away, hating my weakness. “You should have let me go,” I whispered, swallowing hard. “You should have let me die.”

  He gave me a disgusted snarl. “Are you ever gonna let it go? Give me your trust back?”

  I laughed bitterly. “Trust... that died in me a long time ago.” I didn’t want to talk about this anymore. I didn’t want to expose myself to him like this ever again.

  Even now, even after all this time, Luc still couldn’t be honest with me. He spoke in riddles, in complex circles, expecting me to figure everything out. Well, sometimes a woman didn’t want to guess. Sometimes what she needed was to hear those words spoken out loud. I was tired of fighting, of pretending I didn’t feel things when I felt too much.

  He always warned me. Keep your thoughts in check. Hide your emotions. Fine, I got that. But what I could never understand and would never understand was why, even in the privacy of my home, he couldn’t for once admit he felt things other than anger or hatred. It didn’t make you weak; it made you human. And maybe that was the true great divide between us.

  I cupped his cheek. He groaned, leaned into me, then pulled me tight to him. His hands ran down my back, holding me as if he’d never let me go.

  I nuzzled his cheek. I couldn’t help it. I wanted the comfort. This was the man I used to love, the man I thought I could never live without. A part of me would always be his. But that part was no longer enough. I needed more than he could give.

  “Sometimes,” I whispered, curling my finger through the soft thickness of his hair, “there is such a thing as too much water under the bridge.”

  He pulled back, and this time he let me see his pain.

  I shook my head. “But this has nothing to do with Billy, Luc.”

  There wasn’t anger, or even violence, but a bottomless pit of sadness that threatened to steal the breath from my lungs. “It has everything to do with him,” he said, then ported.

  I plopped onto my bed, empty and hollow inside, glanced at the drawer holding the ring and wondered. Was he right? What was I doing where Billy was concerned?

  I reached into the neck of my shirt and pulled out the necklace I’d worn to sleep last night, staring at the medallion with an “A” etched in black.

  Luc was right. The man was a death priest. A being that stood against everything I was. A thing that if given the opportunity would hunt my kind to extinction, and still I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Wanting to see him.

  The kiss. My lashes fluttered, body growing tight with need, stomach somersaulting with the thought of his lips pressed to my own.

  My hand shook as I touched my finger to a mouth that prickled thinking about it. This wasn’t like me. This desperate, urgent need to be with him. Even with Luc it’d been different. I knew I’d loved him, but it’d been deep, sure. Billy was wild, crazy passion that rivaled anything I’ve ever felt even when fully gripped by Lust. I was afraid my obsession—and it was that—would very likely kill me.

  It was nothing he did. The guy had stabbed me, contused me, and yet I refused to share him with anybody. Grace asked, Luc asked, but I couldn’t. Billy was mine. His violence, his lust. They were mine to keep. Guard. Protect.

  I dropped my head into my hands. I needed to call Grace. I needed to find out anything I could about the priests. If I was thralled, I wanted it off before it killed me.

  I ported to Kemen’s trailer and knocked.

  “Yeah,” he called, voice muffled.

  I opened the door and stepped inside. “Kem?”

  “Over here.”

  I looked to my left. He was on the floor playing a video game, clothes looking like a miniature hill piled around him. He paused his game and glanced up.

  “I need to use the phone. Could I?”

  “Sure.” He jerked his chin. “It’s in the bedroom on the desk.”

  “Thanks.” I headed back, picked up the phone, and dialed Grace’s cell.

  She picked up on the third ring.

  “Aye,” she said, voice harried with exasperation.

  “Grace, it’s me.”

  “Dora?” I could almost picture her sitting forward with eager anticipation. “What news?”

  I told her everything, sans Billy, of course.

  “That is worrisome.” She paused, and I knew she was biting her bottom lip; it was her habit when thinking.

  “Listen.” My mouth felt suddenly dry, my tongue twice its size.

  “Aye?” she asked after a minute.

  I licked my lips. I really needed to read those files; if she said no, I was screwed. I crossed my fingers. “Could I possibly gai
n access to the order’s library?”

  I held my breath for what felt like an eternity before she finally said in a hushed tone, “I’m sorry, lass, but I canna do that. No one but the order is allowed inside.”

  It was like someone had sucker punched me in the gut. What was I going to do now?

  “Dora. Dora?” Grace said in agitation, after I’d failed to answer her.

  “I’m here.”

  She blew out a deep breath. “I can see this is bothering you, and I might get flayed alive for doing it, but if you tell me which records you want, I’ll send Mary to get them.”

  It wasn’t ideal. I’d wanted to browse the library at my leisure, but this was better than nothing. Relief flooded me. “I need anything you’ve got on the priests and...” I thought about the Gray Man. The desire to find out anything about him was almost more than my desire for Billy, but then I remembered the cold fingers on my neck and the warning to speak of him to no one.

  “Was there something else, Pandora?” Grace prompted.

  I bit my tongue. It wasn’t worth it. “No. That’s it.”

  “You sure?” she pressed, as if sensing I lied, but I shook my head. “That’s it.”

  “Okay, then. Meet me here at ten tonight before you head to the club. I’ll have it ready for you.”

  “Thanks.” We hung up and a heavy burden lifted off me. I dragged my weary body back into Kemen’s living room. He was still playing his shoot-’em-up game.

  I sat down next to him, resting my head on his shoulder, and sighed.

  He looked at me. “Wanna talk about it?”

  “Not really.”

  “Okay.”

  He shut off his game and turned the channel to local news. I listened for a bit, hearing some weatherman spout off nonsense about more snow. No, really? I could have predicted that. What a moron.

  “I didn’t mean to listen, but I heard you mention something about a priest,” he said quietly. I rolled my gaze up to his face. “Is one after you?”

  “Kemen.” I patted his thigh. “I’m sorry you heard that, but I really don’t want to talk about this.”

  He gave me a soft smile. “I’m sorry. It’s your business. I won’t pry.” He patted his knee. “Wanna lay down?”

  “Yes,” I said it in a breathless rush. “Oh, God, all I wanna do is sleep.” Sleep and forget, at least for a little while.

  He leaned back, resting on a pile of clothes, and I settled my head against his lap. He played with my hair, and just as I was at the point of totally losing myself to the numbing void of oblivion, I saw something on the screen that made my heart clench.

  It was the face of the little girl, with a yellow banner under the picture that said Missing. Then the picture pulled back, replaced by the crying image of a mom and dad pleading for their daughter’s safe return.

  I buried my face in Kemen’s thighs and cursed the eyes that couldn’t shed tears.

  Chapter 18

  I was headed back to Sanguinary, but I had no plans to party. This time it was all about finding out what was going on behind the club and trying to figure out some way to get inside. I wore nothing flashy. Black on black and formfitting. I pulled my hair back, then tucked it under a plain black baseball cap.

  I twirled and studied my reflection to see if the plethora of knives and weapons I had strapped to my body were obvious. But aside from a few dips and grooves that could easily pass as wrinkles in my clothing, I looked perfectly harmless.

  I glanced at the silver necklace on my nightstand.

  After Luc had discovered the ring, I decided leaving it unattended wasn’t the wisest choice. I still couldn’t bring myself to wear it on my finger. But I had to figure out a way to keep it on me, so I’d threaded it onto the silver necklace. The gold ring looked odd next to the silver medallion.

  I grabbed it and slipped it on, tucking it under my shirt. The medallion and ring settled against my breast, and my pulse raced at the mere thought that this necklace might be Billy’s. What was the A? Was it a clue? Was this necklace even his? I’d found it after our fight and assumed it was, but was it really?

  I had to know. The need to get to Grace’s and get my hands on whatever files the order had on the priests made me antsy.

  I was zipping up my boot when I smelled sulfur. I still hadn’t forgiven him. “What?”

  “Here.” Luc shoved something small and hard into my hand. “Wear this.”

  I opened my hand and stared at a black earpiece the size of my pinky nail and a short snakelike wire attached to a small flat box with an on/off switch on its side. “You asking me to wear a wire?”

  “I’m not asking, I’m telling.” Then he took a deep breath and gave me a weak smile, as if trying to take some of the sting out of his words. “Listen, Dora, I wish I could be there. Believe me or not, but I just can’t, and you’re gonna have to trust me on this.”

  I crossed my arms. “Whatever, Luc. You know I don’t wear bras, so what do you expect me to do? Shove the wire up my ass? Not happening.”

  He rubbed his brow and groaned. “You’re still angry.”

  “Hmm.” I tapped my foot. “What would give you that idea?” Was he serious? Did the man really think he could say the things he’d said to me and a few hours later I’d be all happy because he decided to throw me a scrap of kindness? Judging by the plea in his ice-blue eyes, apparently so.

  “I want to help you, and this is the only way I know how without compromising the order’s directives.”

  “Fine, whatever.” I huffed a stray tendril of hair out of my eyes. “Put it on. But I don’t know how you think it’s gonna help. Maybe if a bad guy tries to kill me I can rip it off and throw it at him. That’ll stop him.”

  He took a deep breath, as if trying to quell his rising temper. Personally, I was ready for another all-out brawl. Bring it on, baby.

  “This,” he said, picking up the wire, “is laced with heat sensors; it can detect anyone’s body heat. I’ll be able to let you know if someone tries to sneak up on you.”

  Well, there was that. Though I hated to concede the point, this might help after all. My parasite detector only worked on anyone less powerful than myself, and any advantage was a good one. “Can you see what I see?”

  He shook his head. “Infrared imaging only.”

  “But if I’m in a crowd, how’s that gonna help me? All you’ll see is fuzzy red dots everywhere.”

  “Paras, even more powerful ones, transmit at a cooler frequency. We’re almost entirely blue.”

  “I didn’t know that. How come I didn’t know that? When did you find that out?” I asked disgruntled, why hadn’t he bothered to share that information with me before?

  He jerked his chin, indicating I should lift my shirt up. He paused for a second, looking at the necklace and ring. I knew he had questions, but he didn’t ask. He pushed the necklace aside, pressed the wire to the bottom of my breast so that it molded against the curve and quickly taped it on.

  “Kemen and I have been tinkering around with the idea for a while. We used night-vision goggles with an IR filter and noticed some heat differences so figured we were probably on the right path. But goggles are too obvious.” He lifted my breast and bent down so that his nose was mere inches from it and tugged on the wire.

  Believe it or not, getting your boob handled like it’s little more than a nuisance isn’t much of a turn-on.

  Obviously satisfied with the placement, he jerked his chin in the direction of my jeans. “Pull your pants down.”

  I unzipped and pulled them down to my knees. He taped the box to the inside of my thigh, then switched it on. “So,” he continued, “Kemen and I came up with the concept of masking the infrared in wire. This is the prototype. But I’ve tested it out. It works. It’s not perfect, has some glitches, but for what you’re gonna do tonight, it’s good enough.” He gave the wire one last tug, then patted my breast with a satisfied nod.

  My lips twisted. “If you were anyone else, I’d
accuse you of copping a feel.”

  “I was.” He winked, then he grabbed the necklace again, finger lingering for a moment on the medallion. He cleared his throat. “Okay, now the receiver.”

  I handed him the earpiece. He shoved it inside my canal as far as it could go. I frowned. It felt strange, but not unpleasant. I looked at the mirror and turned my face to the side. It was like it wasn’t even in there. I couldn’t see a thing.

  “You can hear me and I you,” he said.

  “How are you going to hear me with this? Don’t these things need antennas?”

  “Pandora,” he said with a twirl of his lips. “Leave technology to the experts.” He tweaked my nose.

  I’m not kidding. He freakin’ tweaked my nose. Condescending, chauvinist pig. I wanted to bite his finger off.

  He cupped my cheek. “Be safe out there tonight.” Lengthy pause. “And come home.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say. I guess in his own way, he was apologizing. I grabbed his hand, squeezed it, and then stepped back. “I’ll do my best.”

  ~*~

  I brushed my hands down my pants, glanced both ways to make certain no humans were around to watch me appear as if from nothing, then stepped out of the alleyway a block from Grace’s house. I ran with hurried steps to her front door.

  It was dark enough out that I’d decided I probably wouldn’t get caught if I’d ported. I was fifteen minutes early, but I wanted to get a jump on the club, and it opened its doors at ten. I doubted Grace would mind my showing up a few minutes ahead of schedule.

  “Testing. Testing. One. Two. Testing...” The teeny voice reverberated through my skull and set my teeth on edge.

  “If you don’t shut up, I will personally rip your tongue out when I get back home tonight.”

  He laughed. “Told you it would work.”

  “Jerk.”

  It was quiet again, and I could almost picture Luc scrawled out on his bed wearing nothing but a pleased smirk.

  Then I thought of something I probably should have remembered much sooner. I was going to Grace’s to get a book on priests, and bloody Big Brother could hear every word I said. I cursed myself every kind of fool. Oh, well. I was gonna have to figure out a way to speak without giving my secret away. How to stop Grace from doing it was the X factor.