Dark Knights 1: Eternity of Darkness

by Shana Nichols

  While Julie dressed, Stefan tried to reach Claude telepathically. Then he picked up his cell phone and called the other vampire’s hotel room. No answer. Where was his partner? Just then Noodles began to yap furiously at the front door. “I’ll see who that is.” His guard up, Stefan hurried to the door, zipping his slacks as he walked. He lifted the little dog in his arms, and looked through the peephole.

  “It’s O.K., girl. There’s no one there.” When he opened the door, he saw it. The white rose, its long stem wrapped in green waxed paper. Reynard’s warning. Stefan picked it up, cursing when a thorn dug into his finger, drawing blood.

  His blood. He wouldn’t allow the bastard to draw Julie’s. As if doors would keep the fox at bay, Stefan slammed it closed. He held the bud at arm’s length, the way a squeamish mortal might handle a poisonous viper. His heart, normally quiet, pounded in his chest. Adrenaline rushed through his body like a river of red, life-giving sustenance, suffusing his muscles, flushing his skin.

  “What’s wrong?” Julie asked, then clamped down on her lower lip when she saw the rose. Her eyes widened, and she began to tremble. “He sent it, didn’t he?”

  He nodded, not knowing what to say, though he knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to throw open the door, snarl a challenge. Make Reynard come to him, fight it out as decent men should, rather than involving the beautiful, fragile creature before him.

  “You -- I don’t want you hurt.” Her gaze went to his cheek, to the wound she’d dressed moments earlier.

  Fear showed in her eyes, dilating the pupils even more than was justified by the dim lighting in the foyer. Damn it, he hated having her worry about him, hated more the necessity of admitting he couldn’t deal with one crazed, murdering vampire on his own. “Come here,” he said gruffly, holding out his free hand and pulling her into the circle of his arms. “Let’s get rid of this, and then I’ll call in the reserves.”

  He headed for the kitchen, determined to feed the obscenely beautiful flower to the garbage disposal, the way Julie had done with her banana peel earlier. Jabbing himself once more with a thorn, he shoved the blossom into the drain chute. “Where’s the switch to turn this on?”

  Julie reached over, turned the water on. “Here.” She flipped a switch to the right of the sink, and the disposal started to grind away. She watched as though transfixed as the thorny stem slowly disappeared in a stream of clear, clean water. “I wouldn’t have wanted to touch it. Thank you.”

  “If only it were as easy to get rid of the maniac who sent it.” Stefan stepped back from the sink

  “We could go away. Far away. You could make me like you...move us through space...” She held his gaze, pleading, offering him forever, however short that time might be.

  Stefan didn’t want to lose her. Not to Reynard and not to her world of mortals. If he gave in, took what she offered so sweetly... She would no longer be totally helpless against Reynard. She could fly away with him, and he could ensconce her behind the dark, cool walls of his castle overlooking a stormy sea, a place where the d’Argent women had gone for refuge over the centuries. She’d be safe from attack from even the strongest of their kind while he --

  What was he thinking? What sort of fiend would turn a mortal, then abandon her in an alien world while he went back on what might well be a fatal quest? Particularly the woman who owned his heart? Stefan reached out, stroked the skin along Julie’s jaw with the pads of his fingers, memorized the satiny texture, the sensual heat of her mortal blood pulsing within her flesh. “Because I love you, my darling, I cannot.”

  For a moment he considered abandoning duty, keeping vigil over Julie in his ancestral home while others pursued Reynard. Denying his honor for his love. But he could not, for if he did, he’d not be worthy of her love...or his own ancient, respected name.

  Tilting her chin up, he took her lips and allowed himself to sample what he must not claim. How would he walk away? Storing memories that would have to carry him through the dismal, lonely days of a future without her, he let her carry him away mentally to a place without Reynard, without danger. A place where mortals and vampires might coexist in peace together.

  He felt a gentle but stubborn strength in her slender arms as she clasped his waist, drawing him into her as surely as if they were lying naked in bed. Her rapid, shallow breaths tickled his cheek, his upper lip. With her smooth, wet tongue, she traced his lips, enticing him to take her...make her truly his.

  “Stop, Julie. When this is over, I’ll go, and you’ll forget we ever met.” But he’d remember. Remember and regret, for the centuries that stretched before him -- unless he challenged the killer vampire and was destroyed.

  “You may leave me, but I’ll never forget you.” Her eyes widened, as though she’d suddenly realized the meaning of his words. “You -- you wouldn’t steal my memories. Surely you couldn’t be so cruel.”

  “Wiping out your memories would be a kindness. I wish I could wipe away my own, for they will haunt me...” Stefan almost hoped Reynard would destroy him, save him from the prospect of centuries without Julie. Almost. Preserving her mortality was more important than serving his happiness, and to ensure that, he must destroy her would-be killer, not be destroyed himself.

  The doorbell rang, its shrill tone piercing the silence. Julie’s muscles tightened beneath Stefan’s hands, and she inhaled deeply, as though drawing strength from the air around her. Noodles trotted toward the door, the tone of her bark more threatening than welcoming. “Stay here. I’ll see who’s knocking at the door.”

  She threw an even look at him over her shoulder. “All right, but don’t you dare think this conversation is finished.”

  Stefan had never in his life been so grateful to see his cousin Alexandre -- or annoyed to see Claude, who hung back as though afraid to face him. He glared at his young cousin. “Don’t tell me you didn’t see which way he went after he dumped that rose on this doorstep. Damn it, Claude, you could have tracked him.”

  Alex shook his head. “Take it easy, cousin. We’ve known since the second or third of the murders that Reynard can make himself invisible when he wants to. Just because he doesn’t often do it doesn’t mean he can’t. Obviously he’d made Claude, and he didn’t care to be tailed today. He placed the florist order, and then he vanished. Never came anywhere near Julie’s door. If neither you nor I can follow him when he does his disappearing acts, how can we expect it of Claude?”

  Despite the defense, Claude hung his head, stared down on his dark-brown deck shoes. “I fucked up again. I’m sorry, Stefan.”

  Claude might have been a sorry excuse for a vampire hunter, but his heart was in the chase. Stefan ran a hand over his face, got a grip on his anger. After all, it wasn’t his young cousin who deserved his fury. He stepped back, waved the two inside. “You might as well stay here for now. Come on, I want you to meet Julie.”

  * * * * *

  Louis laughed. His ruse had worked, and he’d lost the incompetent d’Argent bastard who’d been dogging his every footstep for the past four days. By now, he imagined, the bumbling guard would have noted his absence, and would be scurrying to admit his ineptitude to the other d’Argent -- the one who was so obviously pleasuring Julie Quill while attempting to protect her from the destiny he’d set in motion months ago, for her and countless others like her.

  No matter. Louis had lurked, invisible, while the florist’s boy had laid that single white rose at Julie’s door, hoping for a glimpse of his victim. But no. It was d’Argent, not Julie, who’d picked up the dewy bud. And opened the door again a few minutes later to let in not one but to of his two confederates.

  Good. So Louis primed Alina with his latest letter. She’d taken the bait, and sent her best out to challenge him. Let her. He’d destroy them, fling their lifeless bodies across the ocean and deposit them at her feet. The more the better.

  But first Louis had to feed. It would take all the strength he could muster, to take on three of the d’Argent pups at once, destroy th
em, and claim his bloody prize.

  * * * * *

  Sitting around Julie’s kitchen table, they looked like ordinary, extraordinarily handsome young men, Stefan’s cousin and his friend. Only their paleness and -- in Claude’s case -- such prominent fangs that no one could help noticing them when he opened his generous mouth, , would have made an unknowing observer wonder if they were vampires. She started to offer refreshment, hesitated, then opened the refrigerator door and set out the remaining carton of blood she and Stefan had brought home from the vampire bar.

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to share,” she said, putting a small crystal tumbler in front of each vampire. “Or...”

  “Don’t even think of offering yourself, cherie. “ Stefan’s tone brooked no argument.

  Claude grinned. “Was that a pizza I saw in the freezer when you were getting out the ice? If so, I’ll take that. Stefan and Alex are welcome to share the Vampire Delight.”

  “Why yes. I didn’t realize vampires consumed anything else or I’d have offered.”

  “Claude is one of the few who can. Most of us get violently ill,” Stefan explained.

  It seemed Julie was learning something new about Stefan and his clan with each successive conversation. “Would you like a salad with it?”

  Alex broke out laughing, a booming sound that startled Noodles from her snooze in the corner next to the patio door and had her ears perking up, her expression quizzical. “Our little cousin limits his consumption of food for humans to the junk variety. Pizza, burgers, tacos...”

  “Not so, Julie. If you’ve got the makings, I’d love a salad.” Claude shot a quelling look toward Alex, who by then had turned and was deep in discussion with Stefan.

  Their friendship was obvious. Both, especially Stefan, seemed mildly annoyed with good-natured Claude. Julie guessed from the terse words the two exchanged that they worried for the youngest of their number, much like a parent might concern himself over the behavior of an errant child.

  When the timer went off on the microwave, Julie slid the pizza onto a plate and set it in front of Claude, next to the garden salad he’d almost finished. Anxious to be part of the conversation, she took the last of the four chairs around the table.

  “Now, Stefan, don’t come down so hard on Claude,” Alex said, his face so much like Stefan’s but for a devilish twinkle in his clear green eyes. “Julie, you’ve got to make my cousin take life a little less seriously.”

  Stefan took Julie’s hand, then glared at Alex. “You would say that. I know no one on earth who takes life less seriously than you. I expect you to take care, also. No more heroic machismo like the stunt that nearly killed you in Buenos Aires. We work together from here on, all three of us.”

  Though he didn’t say it, Julie guessed Stefan meant to call the shots, protect not only her but Claude and Alex from the serial killer. Please God, let him survive this encounter they were planning with her would-be murderer. “Stefan, that means four of us. I want to be a part of this, too. After all, it’s me that Reynard wants to kill.”

  Alex looked at her, then back at Stefan. From the serious expression in Alex’s deep-green eyes, Julie guessed he understood much more than Stefan had put into words. He might have been a playful scoundrel, as Stefan had intimated, but it was obvious Alex was no fool. Stefan shook his head, as though to silence Alex, as if to keep him from revealing...

  “You must be part of the plan, Julie, as much as my cousin -- and all of us -- regret it.” Alexandre reached over, surprised Julie by covering the hand Stefan wasn’t already holding. “You and Noodles will be the bait. It is the only way we can draw him out. You are the one thing that makes Reynard vulnerable.” He shifted his gaze to Stefan, as though offering the opportunity for him to take the reins.

  Stefan had no choice but to do so. He’d promised Julie, and assured Alina he’d prove himself worthy of the trust she’d bestowed on him to stop Reynard. “We must stay together, make forays out at night, the four of us, so Reynard will know we’ve chosen to protect you rather than attack him. Except...” Stefan paused, as though he didn’t want to finish the thought. “...in the morning, when the sun first rises, when you’ll walk Noodles alone.”

  “I -- O.K.. You say he doesn’t often come out in daylight, so I should be safe.”

  “I’m counting on him to do just that. He obviously has set a timetable he intends to follow. We’ll stick to you like glue all night, when Reynard likes to roam. He’ll see you alone with Noodles early in the morning. You’ll invite him to come home with you for breakfast. When he does, seat him out on the patio, in the sun. While the light won’t incapacitate him, it will weaken him much more than the exposure to bright light affects us. Excuse yourself to bring him something to drink. As soon as you’re back in the kitchen, we’ll come out from hiding and attack him. All three of us.”

  “Does he know you all are here?” Julie paused, her expression questioning. “Won’t he suspect I’m setting him up?”

  “I’m sure he knows. And I imagine he’ll recognize your invitation as a set-up. But Reynard is an arrogant bastard. I’m counting on him being cocky enough to believe he can take us all on and win. It will be easier for us to fight him in a small private area like your patio, rather than out in the open where we’d be likely to draw spectators. Humans wouldn’t recognize his superhuman strength, and would likely as not jump into the fight, trying to even the odds.”

  A shadow crossed Stefan’s face, accentuating the fierce determination evident in his expression. It frightened Julie. Suddenly, this was all too overwhelming. Too frightening. Too much to take in all at once. Despite her earlier bravado, she would soon have to face a powerful vampire intent on bringing about her death. A killer who was nearly invincible, so much so that it was going to take three vampire hunters to try to take him down.

  She shuddered, though she tried for a courageous smile.

  “We’re frightening your beautiful lady, Stefan.” Alex bared his fangs in a feral grin, an expression that somehow was reassuringly fierce yet mischievous, easing the intensity of the moment. “Let’s hit a bar tonight. Let Reynard know his victim’s not alone.” He looked directly across the table at her. “What do you say, Julie? Claude says you found someplace with vampire action. Let’s go take it in.”

  When Stefan offered his hand again, she placed her own in it, let the warmth and pressure of his fingers warm her icy ones. Turning her head, she smiled at Claude. As young as he was, he looked determined, serious, and deadly, even with the last bite of pizza poised at his lips.

  She had the best protection she could get. She was certain of that. “Let me go put on my party clothes. You three stay here and enjoy your drinks.”

  “None for me, thank you. I like mine fresh from the tap.” Alex looked at Julie, then winked. “Besides, I fed just yesterday.”

  Stefan lifted his glass, his expression thoughtful as he looked at Julie. Then he shifted his gaze to Alex, smiling for the first time since he’d picked up that white rose from her doorstep. “So did I,” he said. “Julie has a way of making me ravenous, though.” He lifted his glass, as though making a toast. “Drink up. Alina would not be happy if I refused to ensure that you both get fed.”

  “If you three will excuse me...” With that, Julie headed for her room.

  * * * * *

  Julie has a way of making me ravenous. If only she made Stefan ravenous enough to forget whatever misgivings he had toward turning her...but apparently she did not. “If you three will excuse me for a few minutes, I’ll change into something more appropriate for an evening at Guy’s secret room behind the Ristorante della Rubio.”

  She wouldn’t give in to fear, and she wouldn’t give up on Stefan. Memories of the vampire bar with its sensual music, the jewel-toned strobe lights, the sexual play of the vampire couples flooded her brain. Julie rifled through her closet.

  There it was, the perfect dress, a flowing silk wraparound confection in muted tones of primary and secondary
colors that had reminded her of a Degas watercolor when she first saw it . The sleeveless, v-neck bodice hugged her upper body, then swirled around her legs to an uneven hemline. It was as if when she’d bought it months earlier, she’d known somewhere deep inside her that she’d find a lover to entice with it, a perfect setting in which to wear it.

  Tonight might be her last night to do such a thing, and she was determined to get exactly what she intended. Stefan.

  Chapter Twelve

  Street lights illuminated the darkness, calling Stefan’s attention to the moon. It grew thinner daily, marking the days until it had fully waned. A brisk wind blew off Lake Michigan, making Julie tremble.

  How could he resist her? The dress she wore was made for seduction. High heels brought her height close enough to his that she could lay her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her as they walked to the bar, a few steps behind Alex. Claude brought up the rear. Not the strongest of rear guards, in the unlikely event Reynard alter his plan and come after Julie tonight. Stefan kept an ear open, just in case.

  “The cycles of the moon have always fascinated me,” Julie said. “This is the final phase, where the moon prepares to join the sun and begin the cycle once again. The bridge between the death of the old cycle and the birth of the new. Did you know, legend has it that whatever has been learned during the entire cycle or lifetime is distilled and condensed when the moon wanes? And that whatever isn’t needed is released, loose ends tied up.”

  “No. I’ve never studied much astrology.” Stefan loved the sound of her voice, the silent promise in her touch when she laid her hand on his backside, just below his belt. “I remember a poem about the moon, though. My mother knew Vachel Lindsey, the mortal who wrote it.”

  “The Moon’s the North Wind’s cookie

  He bites it, day by day

  Until there’s but a rim of scraps