Dark Liaison (An Ema Marx Novel Book 2)

by J. D. Brown

  I nodded at her words, but my nerves twisted tightly around my chest and throat, making concentration difficult. Could I go through with this? Was I kissing my life goodbye?

  Fingernails dug into my upper arm and I grimaced at Bridget. Her furrowed brow warned at the seriousness of the situation. “Listen to me, Ema. I don’t want to die tonight, okay? If things start to look bad—no, if you so much as a think anything might start to look bad, you get zee hell out, got it? Zee Taser guns are a last resort. If you must use them, zen you better not miss your target. Shoot and then get us zee hell out.”

  I swallowed and then nodded.

  She held my gaze. “We can still back out.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “We have to save Maria and Naamah.”

  She nodded and then shifted. Her body shrank until she was no more than a small bump of motion under a pool of clothes. I shoved the clothes into the bag and then carefully scooped the black mouse inside. Leaving the zipper open, I adjusted the strap over my shoulder and then faced the ticket booth. My breath rushed past my teeth in a shaky sigh. I can do this. I have to do this. I am doing this.

  My feet carried me past the empty booth to the door in the wall behind it. My fingers gripped the knob and twisted it open. The door came away from its frame easily, but the hinges squealed. I winced as the sound echoed through the tunnel and my hand jerked away. It wasn’t more than a foot opened, but I didn’t dare risk making that sound again. I crouched and then peeked between the thin gap. The second door with the call switch stood directly across the room. I sucked in a deep breath and then phased.

  My molecules floated into the room, past the second door, and down a narrow passageway. I steered close to the ceiling, hoping to overpass any guards. Moisture and smoke thickened the air. I forced myself to ignore the tingly burn against my atoms and concentrate on where I was going, reading the vibrations in the air. Sound waves pulsed through me from all directions, music and chatter joining the layer of cigar smoke and perspiration.

  This must be it.

  I lowered and then tensed, pulling myself into solid form in the center of a gritty, tobacco infested bar. I squinted in attempt to see through the fumes. Greasy, black leather and tattooed clad men played pool while slapping women’s behinds and sipping red liquid from beer mugs. Even though the smoke smothered all other scents, my instincts immediately picked out the contents of the drinks.

  I don’t need it, I reminded myself. Yet the urge to hunt rammed hard against my nerves and I gasped as a particular scent knocked the wind out of me from the inside. Flesh…

  My gaze followed the faint scent to a corner. A male and female vampyre sat on two bar stools facing each other. At first glance, the couple seemed to be getting hot ‘n’ heavy under each other’s clothes, but my instincts knew better and my brow lowered as I studied them. The stench of predator oozed from their pores. The man’s torso twisted further into the corner, his hands stroking something in a soothing, protective manner. It wasn’t himself, or the female vampyre next to him. Something else was hidden between them. The female lowered her face and a soft moan carried through the dense air. When her head lifted again, her lips came away deep red like a child’s after drinking a cherry slushy. That’s when I saw it. Two thin legs hung limply between the male and female vampyres’ thighs. The rest of the human girl’s body was no doubt pressed against the wall, buried between the two of them. A lifeless hand fell to the girl’s side. I caught the glint of a thin silver chain wound around her tanned wrist. A small crucifix hung from it.

  She wasn’t dead, though. Not yet. Her pulse beat faintly against my acute hearing. Part of me wanted to vomit, and part of me wanted to join in the drink. My insides went cold at the realization. I wasn’t like those monsters. I didn’t have to give into the cravings of someone else’s life. I closed my eyes and swallowed the lump in my throat. When I opened my eyes again, I phased the tip of my pinky finger and absorbed a bit of the girl’s energy.

  It was weak and runny, but it did the job and cleared my mind. Guilt tugged at my thoughts as my fingers unphased. Am I really better than those ticks drinking her blood? I took her energy. I didn’t physically hurt or terrify her the way they did, but in the end did it make a difference? She’d need all her energy to survive the amount of blood loss. What if I had just taken her last breath? What if, in the end, I was the reason she died? My lips moved to shape the silent words meant for the poor girl who would never hear them. I’m sorry.

  “Du,” said a deep German voice. My attention snapped to the bartender standing behind the counter to my left. He was thin, but tall and rugged. His chin-length hair hung in sweaty waves against his neck, the scruff on his jaw a few days old. His T-shirt clung to his pectorals. I dared a look at his rusty, orange-yellow eyes. “Wer sind du?”

  I shook myself, suddenly remembering where I was and why. So these are the menacing Rebel vampyres allying with my mortal enemy. They looked like a gang. I guessed that was the point. I smiled and approached the bartender, trying to remember everything Bridget told me to do. Blend in, put the bag on the floor, stall for time. I sat on a barstool and glanced at the selection of drinks while casually resting the bag near my feet. From the periphery of my vision, I watched as the little black mouse crawled out and scurried across the floor. I smiled innocently at the barkeep. “Can I have… a glass of AB positive and a shot of Jack?”

  His brow rose. “American?”

  His accent was so thick, I didn’t think he could handle more than a few words in English. I shook my head. “No. That was my first life.”

  He crossed his arms and narrowed his gaze. “How you get in, America?”

  My insides turned into jelly, but I straightened my back and squared my shoulders. “I know the password.”

  “Was ist das?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Was. Is. Die. Password?”

  My hands wrung together beneath the bar and I looked at my lap as if the correct word would magically appear there. Rumpelstilskin?

  He eyed a couple of bouncers and I panicked. “I’m looking for someone. Naamah ta Korento. If you know where he is, maybe you could—”

  Sweaty-Bartender-Guy gestured for the guards to come. The larger one immediately headed toward us. Dread spewed the first thing I could think of from my mouth. “I’m a friend of Victor’s. He let me in. He told me I could find Naamah here. They’re both going to be really pissed if you don’t listen to me.”

  He grinned, flashing a set of filmy yellow fangs. “Bye-bye, America.”

  Shoot.

  “I’ll do anything! Please… I… I’ll…”

  The guard stood less than a few feet behind me now. Frantic, I glanced at my lap again, at the short-shorts riding up my crotch, at the leather vest pressing tight against my breasts.

  Play the part.

  “All right, I’m not Victor’s friend. I owe him money. I couldn’t pay him in cash so I’m paying him with my…” I glanced down at my body. “…feminine wits.” Sucking in a breath, I forced what I hoped was a sultry smile onto my face and then pinched the zipper tag between my fingers. I slowly pulled the zipper down until the slider leveled with the underwire of my bra cups. I had to hand it to Bridget, tight leather made even my small boobs look like they had ample cleavage.

  The bartender held up a hand, palm forward, and the guard halted in his tracks.

  Heat burned my cheeks, but I forced myself to be calm and continue with the bullshitting. “I owe Victor a lot, know what I mean?” I wiggled my eyebrows and leaned forward, pressing my boobs against the counter. “He had some business or something he had to do, so he told me to wait for him here. You’re not really going to kick out a working woman, are you?”

  He narrowed his eyes and looked me up and down. “What I get?”

  I scowled. “Um…” I cleared my throat and then batted my lashes. “What do you want?”

  He flashed his disgusting fangs again. “Blasen.”

  I did
n’t know what that meant, but I forced my best seductive Marilyn Monroe look. “Sure thing, Germany.”

  “If you move, Sergio eat you for dinner.” He nodded at the tank standing behind me.

  “Got it,” I nodded, “no moving.”

  He went around the bar to a back door and disappeared behind it. I released a breath. Thank God all men are the same when it comes to sex.

  But I wasn’t in the clear yet. Victor would know I was an imposter. This distraction would only buy me a minute of time. I turned in my seat to face the bouncer. Sergio was so big, he could have picked me up and thrown me clear across the subway with one hand tied behind his back. I tilted my chin to the side and smiled sweetly, but the massive vampyre didn’t return my sentiment.

  My gaze wandered, searching the patrons for Maria and Naamah, or even Enki and Apollyon, though preferably just the former. I didn’t recognize anyone in the crowd. I hoped Bridget had better luck.

  The back door swung open and the bartender came forth with another man close behind him. I cringed. Is that Victor? The second guy was lean and well dressed, filling out his gray suit in all the appropriate places. His hair was pulled back in a short ponytail at the nap of his neck. A few loose strands fell over his face, frizzled from the humidity. He wasn’t bad to look at for a physically mid-forty-year-old vampyre, but there was something about his black gaze… something tired and hungry and pissed off.

  “I’ve not seen her before,” the man grumbled as his scrutiny traveled the length of my body. The stun guns in my bag sounded like a really good idea right about now.

  The bartender also traced me with his eyes. He murmured something in German and then kissed the air.

  Oh, hell no.

  I slowly reached for the purse strap. Gripping it, I slid off the stool and then faced the exit. The guard blocked my path. His sausage fingers gripped my shoulder.

  “Sorry, Sergio,” I whispered, “but I got to go.”

  I was about to phase when an explosion erupted from the passage. The door fell from its frame with a deafening shatter. Sergio twisted around, knocking me against the floor. Next thing I knew, Tancred and his men spilled into the bar and opened fire.

  Screams filled the room. Vampyres dropped to the floor. A few attempted to attack the soldiers, including Sergio, but they were easily fended off with a combination of bullets and electric shock. Men and women writhed in pain on the ground, blood seeping from their wounds. I rolled onto my belly and wrapped my arms around my head for protection.

  I thought of the human girl in the corner and twisted around to glance in the direction where the threesome had been. The male vampyre was on his hands and knees underneath a pool table. His lips moved, but I couldn’t make out what he said over the surrounding chaos. The female vampyre lay crumpled against the wall, motionless as she stared into space. Blood trickled from a bullet hole in the center of her brow. The human girl still sat in the corner, hugging her knees to her chest and sobbing into them.

  She’s alive.

  Tancred barked orders to his men in German. Two of them handcuffed the Rebels and then shoved them in a line against the far wall. The rest of the group busted through the back door and entered the room behind the bar, guns at the ready. The Rebels didn’t put up a fight. They looked pissed, but for the most part they cooperated and leaned or sat with their wrists and ankles bound together. It didn’t make sense. This was supposed to be one of Apollyon’s armies. Why weren’t they fighting for their king?

  They’re not here. Apollyon and his snake monsters aren’t here. From the looks of it, they might have never been here. The Rebels might not even know Apollyon existed.

  The rear door flung open again and the soldiers returned with two extra vampyres. I expected to see the bartender and Victor being dragged out in cuffs, but instead Naamah and Bridget were the ones being escorted from the back room. Naamah’s hands were raised over his head in surrender, a silver shock band secured around each wrist.

  Bridget wore a brown men’s jacket that hung a little too long in the sleeves, the waist ending just below her buttocks. The rest of her body was completely naked. Cat calls sounded from the constrained men sitting along the wall until a soldier silenced them. She kept her attention straight ahead as a small grin curled the edge of her lip. One of Tancred’s men ushered Naamah and Bridget outside. I sighed, relieved they were okay.

  A scent like rain and fresh grass leaked through the blood and gunpowder. My gaze rose as a man in black jeans and a Rob Zombie T-shirt pushed through the crowed, his emerald eyes frantically searching and taking in the scene before him. “Where is she?”

  My heart lifted. “Jesu…”

  His gaze followed my voice and found me.

  “Oh, Ema…” Concern and relief washed over his features as he bounded forward. I pushed myself to my knees as he lowered and took me into his arms. I clung to him, my hands thrown around his neck, tangling in his long hair. I pressed my face against his chest and absorbed his comforting scent, losing myself in the safety of his arms as he rubbed my back.

  “Are you hurt?” he whispered against my temple.

  I shook my head. “Just rattled.”

  He stood and pulled me to my feet. His arms snaked tight around my waist, guiding me gently yet swiftly toward the exit. I stopped in my tracks before we passed Tancred. Jesu arched his brow, urging me to keep walking. I placed a hand on Tancred’s arm to get his attention. He glared at me like I was a worm, but I didn’t care.

  “There is a human girl in the back right corner. She’s alive, but terrified. They were drinking from her.”

  Tancred’s gaze widened and he immediately looked in the direction I indicated.

  “You’ll help her, won’t you?”

  “Yes,” he said, and then gestured for one of his men.

  Jesu moved us forward again, through the narrow passage and out into the subway. The platform swarmed with Nikolas’ soldiers. One approached us.

  “Prince Jesu, I have a vehicle outside prepared to return you and Miss Ema to the castle.”

  “Thank you.” Jesu nodded.

  “Wait,” I said. “What about Maria? I didn’t see her—”

  “Tancred will take care of it.” There was a slight clip to Jesu’s tone. I decided not to argue. Tancred’s men looked like they were far from done with their mission. I had a feeling they would clean out the place, leaving nothing unturned in their quest for Apollyon’s whereabouts. Maria would be found.

  The three of us ascended the stairs. I noticed the chain from before had been cut away as it lay in a pile in the corner at the top of the entrance. Outside, the night was incredibly calm and silent. A row of cars that were not present before now lined the walkway. The soldier escorting us approached one of the vehicles and opened the back passenger door. Bridget waited inside, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. Her eighteen-year-old body looked five years younger in the oversized clothes, but it had to beat being nude in the middle of such a tense situation.

  “Where’s Naamah?” I asked while settling in the middle seat. Jesu sat beside me.

  “Zey put him in a different car,” Bridget answered. “Zey probably want to hold him for questioning. We’ll see him later.”

  “Did you see Maria?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry, Bridget.” I sighed, but I wasn’t entirely sure what I apologized for. Dragging her into this mess? Making her suffer through the humiliation? Getting us both dangerously close to being shot and possibly killed? Probably all of the above.

  Bridget grinned. “You have balls, Ema.”

  Heat rose to my cheeks and I couldn’t help but smile, whether from the compliment or the leftover adrenalin and frayed nerves. “Yeah, that was pretty bad ass.”

  “Let’s not do it again.”

  I nodded in agreement. I certainly did not want to do anything like that again.

  The soldier started the ignition. Bridget glanced at my lap and her grin fell. I fo
llowed her line of sight and found Jesu’s fingers curled around mine. With far less subtlety than I’d meant, I yanked my hand away and folded them over my stomach. Jesu upped a brow in my direction, but didn’t say anything. It was a long and silent ride back to the castle.

  Chapter 18

  Neon pink and yellow hues drifted from the horizon. I squinted in the early morning sunlight and raised a hand to shade my eyes as we arrived at the cavernous Alpan castle. Cecelia met us in the foyer and announced that there was plenty of supper left out. Bridget declared she needed a change of clothes before she could eat and I handed her the bag, stun guns and all. I was about to follow her, craving a shower myself, when Jesu gripped my wrist.

  “You need nourishment,” he stated.

  “I’m fine.” I shrugged. “I took a little bit of that human’s energy.”

  “You cannot live on energy waves alone.”

  I wasn’t in the mood to argue about it. “Fine, I’ll have a glass after I shower.” But he didn’t let go. “Jesu, I have ten layers of sweaty, dirty Rebel filth to wash off.”

  Hesitantly, he relaxed his grip. I climbed the stairs to my guestroom, thrilled to see the lavish bathtub. Once every inch of me was clean, I turned off the water and wrapped a thick towel around my torso. I folded Bridget’s vest and set it on the counter to give back later, though I wouldn’t blame her if she torched it.

  I stepped out of the bathroom and squeaked in surprise. Jesu sat at the end of the bed holding a glass of blood in each hand. My bare legs squirmed against each other as my grip tightened around the towel.

  “You could’ve left the glass on the nightstand, you know?”