Demon Night

by Meljean Brook

  Her laugh was soft and breathless. No, he didn’t have many needs—and he was so strong. She slid her hands up to his shoulders and lifted herself up to his mouth, and he was steady.

  But only for a moment.

  With a low groan, he released her. “You want to feed here, or at the lake house?”

  The bloodlust was rising. It’d probably be torture to spend the entire flight quiet in his arms, but she immediately said, “The lake.”

  “That sounds mighty fine.” His smile was crooked. “All right, Miss Charlie. Let’s bust you out of this joint.”

  CHAPTER 27

  They didn’t as much bust out as just walk past Jeeves, and Charlie’s steps were lighter than she’d have thought, her heart thumping with a wild mixture of hope and fear.

  She carried the same combination into Cole’s the next evening.

  Ethan walked beside her each time, and his presence made the crazy roll of her emotions easier to bear—and let her open herself up to them, knowing that he’d tell her if she veered too far one way or another.

  Old Matthew stood behind the counter, studying her as she slid into one of the stools. “Are you coming in to work or to drink?”

  She fought to keep her fingers still. “I guess that depends on whether the idea of my drinking freaks you out.”

  “I ate dinner with the Emerald City Slasher every night for four years without freaking once.” He laid his meaty forearms on the bar and leaned in. “Show me what you’ve got.”

  Charlie bared her teeth.

  He stared, slack surprise smoothing his wrinkles before he shook his head. “Damn. A part of me still thought you were funning, Charlie girl.” He glanced at Ethan. “And him?”

  “This is Drifter.” She fought to breathe. “He’s got wings. No halo, though.”

  Old Matthew straightened up, his hands huge and dark in the folds of his white towel. Finally, he said, “You’ll be mostly in the office now, and when you’re up front I think we’ll be all right if you don’t smile too much. Will we have to adjust your schedule?”

  Her chest swelled, leaving her throat tight. Charlie nodded, but couldn’t get anything out.

  “She’ll need a later shift and fewer hours when daylight runs long in the summer,” Ethan said. “And if it’s acceptable to you, I’ll be sitting here most evenings.”

  Charlie found her voice. “He drinks the Balvenie. And he tips well.”

  Old Matthew turned and selected the bottle from the top shelf. “If you’ve got someone to watch over you, does that mean you’re still in trouble?”

  “A little,” she said. “But Jane might be worse off. We haven’t heard from her for two days now.”

  “Anything from that boyfriend of hers?”

  Charlie shook her head. They hadn’t told Old Matthew about Sammael, but demon or man, it was equally frightening to say, “No, but we think he’s got her with him. And if she could, Jane would make sure that I knew she was okay. So we don’t think he’s letting her talk to anyone.”

  “That’s bad news, Charlie girl.” Old Matthew heaved a deep sigh before setting the whiskey in front of Ethan. “If you’re going to be sitting, son, it must mean you’re waiting for information to come to you. Will you be bringing trouble in?”

  “I aim to avoid it. But if I can’t, I’ll take it outside right quick.”

  “Very quickly,” Charlie said. “If people see anything, it’ll probably just be his coattails when he goes out the door.”

  Ethan smiled slightly. “And it may be that folk like Charlie will be coming in for no other reason but curiosity. They won’t eat much, though most know to buy a drink for appearance sake.”

  Old Matthew nodded. “As long as their money’s good.”

  “It will be,” Ethan said. “And Charlie tells me you’ve been trying to set up a mutually beneficial arrangement with the Heritage Theater, but mostly getting a cold shoulder due to the sort of people you employ. But in a few months, I reckon changes will be taking place at the Heritage. Most of the employees won’t eat, but it can be made real clear to those folks who’ll attend the performances that Cole’s is open across the street.”

  Old Matthew’s face wrinkled into a grin. “Well, then. Charlie girl, you and I had better head on back to that office, make room for all that Bobo cash.”

  Old Matthew didn’t stay with her long, but pointed out the various piles of paperwork, described their contents, and left her to familiarize herself with and organize it all to her liking. Ethan produced the new laptop that Savi had shipped to the house, and Charlie had a moment of astonishment when she realized all of her settings were intact, her setup exactly the same—only faster.

  And so was she. Charlie listened with half an ear to the easy conversation between Ethan and Old Matthew, and had to stop herself from looking through the one-way mirror every time her name was mentioned in passing.

  Until she realized where Ethan had steered the conversation. He’d offered Old Matthew an abbreviated version of his human history, and Old Matthew had seemed pleased by it, observing that Cole’s was the right place for an outlaw.

  “And for Charlie, too,” Ethan said quietly, and when she looked through the mirror she almost believed he could see her, his gaze was so direct.

  “Yes,” Old Matthew said. “And no. Eight years ago, you couldn’t have paid me to take her on, and it wasn’t just what she’d done to the place.”

  “What was it, then?”

  Old Matthew stopped for a minute, braced his hands on the bar. “I saw her at the sentencing. If you’d asked me then, I’d have said she wasn’t going to make it a year, and it wouldn’t have mattered if she was locked up or free. Even if they’re still walking, there are some people who aren’t living—and you could tell she was one of them.”

  “Like a zombie, I imagine.” Ethan’s voice was rough, and he took a sip of his whiskey. “Like her whole world’s been turned upside down, and just looking at her, you wouldn’t think she’d ever pull herself upright again.”

  Old Matthew made a sound of agreement, but Charlie couldn’t see his expression. “And so you could have knocked me over when she came in two years ago. She wasn’t looking as good as she does now, but there was more fight in her than I’d ever have guessed—though I don’t think she had any idea of where to start, and a part of her just wanted to slide back to where she’d been. But while we were sitting here talking—she was on the same stool you are now—she was looking at all the bottles, looking at herself in the mirror, and I swear to sweet baby Jesus that I saw the second she decided not to buy a drink. A moment later, she told me that I was wrong, and she wasn’t a rich girl, and went on with a story about playing a pipe to rats in the subway.” Old Matthew began chuckling, pulled off his kufi to rub his head. “It was one of the most ridiculous things I’d ever heard, but she told it like she meant it, and had me right there with her. So I offered her a position, thinking either that fight would keep on coming, or that one day I’d find her passed out on the floor with a bottle in her hand. It was about six months before I realized the second wasn’t going to happen.”

  “It took me a good while, too,” Ethan said softly.

  Old Matthew’s head tilted forward in a nod. “And now, I just like having her around. Never knowing what’s going to come out of her makes life more interesting—and I’ll tell you, this latest will keep me going for at least another two years.”

  “At least,” Ethan agreed, then glanced at the mirror. “I don’t reckon you’d best tell her any of this, though, even if she did happen to wonder why you took her on. She’d like to start crying and carrying on about how grateful she was, and how she doesn’t deserve any of it.”

  Charlie swallowed a laugh, wiped her cheeks. “Fuck you, Drifter,” she whispered.

  Charlie took five more minutes to compose herself before joining Old Matthew behind the bar, briefly laying her cheek against his shoulder before tying on her apron.

  Her fingers fumbled whe
n he said, “I hope you’ve got great hearing to go along with those teeth and that cold skin, Charlie girl.”

  She pulled the strings tight. “I do.”

  “Good. Because I’d hate to think I told all of that to a man I don’t know for nothing.” He smiled as she laughed and shook her head; then he added, “Did you get bored back there already?”

  “No,” Charlie said, trying not to grin as she glanced from Ethan to Old Matthew. “I’m done. With the final project for my class, too.”

  Old Matthew stared at her a minute before walking through the door to the back. Charlie leaned against the bar in front of Ethan, but had to present him with the top of her head, keeping her face down to hide her fangs when she couldn’t hold back her smile.

  She looked over at Old Matthew when he came back through.

  “I haven’t unburied that beige file cabinet in ten years; I forgot how ugly it was. Do you want to tell me where I can get a set of those teeth, Charlie girl?” He laughed when her eyes widened. “Well, not today. Today, I’m just going to sit back there and do nothing but look at how nice and clean everything is.”

  “Okay.” She waited until he’d gone again, then met Ethan’s steady gaze. “It was easier.”

  “You think faster now, Miss Charlie. Things that gave you trouble still will, but you’re quicker all around.”

  She nodded, pressing her lips together. “I still can’t spell.”

  Ethan studied her, smiling slightly. “Are you figuring to cry or to laugh?”

  “Maybe both. This is a really, really good thing. Better than getting a hit in on Jake now and then.”

  “You say that after you’ve known him a bit longer.”

  Her laugh finally escaped, and she touched his hand, squeezed his fingers lightly. “I know I’m not supposed to do this unless we’re alone, Ethan, but I can’t help myself.”

  He held on when she’d have kept it brief and pulled away. “We ain’t surrounded by demons right now, so the distraction’s all right.”

  “But doesn’t it—” What had he called it? “Fuzz you up?”

  “It ain’t one touch that fuzzes me, Charlie. It’s the buildup I get rid of; if I go too long or take in too much, then a touch like this would hit me so powerfully that I’d be hard pressed not to throw you on your back.” He grinned when her breath caught. “I ain’t there yet. And I have to get rid of it more often now, but I sure ain’t complaining. I’ll just drift a little longer tomorrow.”

  She knew he hadn’t gone to Caelum that day. And with no one to tell him if trouble came, she didn’t think he’d have sealed himself in another room while she was sleeping.

  She searched his face, looking for any sign of the fuzziness—but he appeared as alert and focused as usual. “How are you going to drift if you don’t leave me alone?”

  “Well, Jake will be coming up most days, heading back during the evenings. So I suppose I could lock myself behind the spell while he’s here. But the past two mornings I’ve been drifting while I’ve been in bed with you, and it’s been just fine.”

  Her mouth fell open. “When I’ve been in my daysleep?” At his nod, she shook her head. “I don’t understand. If this fuzzes you up faster”—she moved her fingers against his—“then how can you drift with me there?”

  “It don’t make a lick of sense,” Ethan agreed. “But that’s how it is. I can’t seem to settle without you there, without knowing you’re all right.”

  “Oh.” That familiar emotion swelled in her chest, her throat, trying to push itself out. But she only said, “Sorry.”

  “Miss Charlie,” he said, chuckling softly.

  Her laugh was equally low. “Okay, I’m not.” It was impossible to be. She held his gaze, desire sparking through her. Not from bloodlust—just Ethan. “I get a break in a couple of hours.”

  His focus shifted to her mouth. “And no one yet knows we’re here, so I figure this is the one night we can sit on that swing for a spell.”

  “You should have sat with me the first night you came to my rescue,” she said, grinning. “I was feeling really grateful.”

  He seemed transfixed by her teeth for a breathless moment; then he closed his eyes and said, “By the time your break comes around, Miss Charlie, I’m certain I can think of a few other reasons you ought to be thanking me.”

  She broke into laughter, certain she’d never looked forward to fifteen minutes more in her life. And certain that even if she was just sitting with Ethan, it would pass much too quickly. Always before, it had been such a struggle to fill that time, and she’d relied so heavily on her calls to Jane…

  Her smile faded slowly, and she sighed. “It doesn’t seem right that I’m laughing when Jane’s missing. Like I should be crying all the time, even though it wouldn’t help anything.”

  Ethan traced her jaw with his thumb, lifting her chin. His expression was as tender as his touch. “I know it, Miss Charlie. And if you do feel like crying, you go on ahead. My shoulder cleans up real easy.” His hand rose to push her hair behind her ear. “And with luck, we’ll hear about her soon.”

  Luck didn’t accompany Charlie over the next week, and Jane’s absence continued to wail its note in the background, only completely fading when she was holding Ethan close.

  Their days and nights had fallen into an easy rhythm. Charlie awoke to the soft murmur of Ethan’s voice, his touch, his blood. Each night, a little earlier—and though they never talked about her weight loss, as if discussing her recovery might jinx its progress, the worry on Ethan’s face seemed to lighten as the days passed.

  Then they left for Cole’s, where Ethan’s predictions held true; each evening brought in new vampires. Some only sat and listened, but others came up to the bar for a brief word or a long conversation. And after a few days, Charlie noted, they’d already picked up regulars.

  Closing time found them flying to various locations in the city, visiting with as many vampires as they could, alerting them to the nephilim and seeking information about Jane. By the second week, Charlie knew by sight almost every vampire in the community, except for Manny and his girls. Ethan’s first destination each evening was Manny’s house, claiming he had questions for the vampire, but Manny had never been home. And Ethan had shaken his head, smiling, when Charlie suggested visiting him wherever he worked.

  And every night, she and Ethan returned home with no word about Jane—every night, the tension of not knowing wound tighter and tighter.

  Charlie thought it must be like getting fuzzy. It was never overwhelming at the beginning of the evening, but by the time Ethan set her feet on the deck at home, she was ready to scream from it, ready to go off at the slightest provocation. Ethan must have felt it building in her—and perhaps the frustration was rising in him, as well. After the second night, he’d cut the time they remained in the city by an hour, returning home to engage her in an exhausting training session. The sweat and contact inevitably led them to bed, always hot and rough—and where she finally found release, laughter that didn’t have an edge of guilt, and the impenetrable bliss of falling asleep within Ethan’s embrace.

  But Ethan never stopped working. They’d reported Jane missing, and every night over his whiskey at Cole’s, Ethan updated her on the progress of the—equally slow—police investigation. Jake remained at the house when Ethan had to leave, but kept in constant contact from the tech room, researching locations and names whenever Ethan required the information.

  So far, they’d only been asked to break through the spell once. Charlie had recognized the blond Guardian who walked into Cole’s, and she’d tapped on the one-way mirror. Less than a second after Old Matthew relieved her at the bar and Ethan rushed Charlie through the back door, they’d been standing in front of a burning house.

  Two minutes later, she and Ethan were back at Cole’s—and to her surprise, Ethan had truthfully answered one vampire’s question of why they both suddenly reeked of smoke.

  And Selah hadn’t been the only Guardia
n visitor; a few others had dropped by. If not for Ethan’s introductions, Charlie wouldn’t have realized they weren’t human: a hard-edged female who sculpted a tiny metal piano with keys that Charlie could play with a toothpick; a brooding male whose unblinking stare gave Charlie the creeps, but who managed to crack a smile while speaking with Ethan; another woman who reminded Charlie of a crow, who seemed to surprise Ethan simply by coming in, and who talked music with Charlie for almost two hours.

  Nothing about the Guardians was similar, except that they all sized Charlie up, and they all appeared to relax in Ethan’s presence.

  Before she and Ethan had returned to Seattle, she’d mostly seen him fighting, or with the novices; she hadn’t realized how good he was at putting people at ease—even when they had no reason to be so. A few days into the second week, he convinced the two scientists who’d left Legion to join Ramsdell Pharmaceuticals—though, he told her later, not on his own. Savi’s partner had flown up from San Francisco, then had left for the airport once they’d finished their negotiations.

  Charlie hadn’t met Colin Ames-Beaumont since her encounter two months before, but she could easily imagine what had taken place when Ethan recounted the meeting over the bar that evening.

  “We offered them a real nice position, and what with Ramsdell investing in a lab here in Seattle, didn’t even have to ask them to relocate—but I reckon all of our sweet-talking didn’t matter much,” Ethan said, his gaze holding hers. “They took one look at his pretty face and that was it.”

  Charlie had to hide her grin, and let the sound of his soft laughter roll over her. She didn’t know how Ethan created such an intimate atmosphere between them with just a low tone and that intense focus, but when he spoke to her like this it was as if they were alone.