Dead of Night (The Revenant Book 3)

by Kali Argent

  After the Purge, when the world had changed, he’d thought they might try to find him, but as the months passed without any word, he’d had to accept that maybe his siblings were truly better off without him.

  The white, double doors opened, and a beautiful woman with shimmering blonde hair stepped out onto the covered porch. The skirt of her simple, sleeveless pink dress swayed as she walked, and her hair fell over one porcelain shoulder when she tilted her head to the side quizzically.

  “Nik, is that who I think it is?” Fumbling with her oversized jacket and baggy cargo pants, Kamara cursed him under her breath. “I am not dressed to meet your family.”

  “We could always leave.”

  “Funny.” Glancing at the house again, she sighed and shook her head. “Even if that was an option, it’s too late now.”

  Sure enough, his sister leapt off the porch, her golden mane flowing behind her as she sprinted toward them.

  “Nikolai! Oh, it is you.” Pushing off the ground, she jumped into his arms, wrapping around him tightly. “I can’t believe it’s really you. I can’t believe you’re here.”

  “Uh, Ronnie,” he choked, “you’re strangling me.”

  “Oops.” She released him immediately and dropped gracefully to the ground. “I’ve missed you, brother.” Hands folded at her waist, she turned to Kamara with a shallow bow. “Veronica Diavolos. It’s lovely to meet you.”

  “Kamara Yamashito.” His mate didn’t bow, but she dipped her head. “Likewise.”

  “Come.” Grabbing Kamara’s hand, Veronica pulled her along the narrow walkway. “Anita is just finishing up lunch. You must be famished.”

  Kamara looked over her shoulder, the plea for help clear in her expression. “I could eat.”

  Chuckling, Nikolai followed behind at a more leisurely pace. His sister was a force of nature, and he knew better than to stand between her and what she wanted. What she wanted right then was to be Kamara’s new best friend, whether Kamara liked it or not.

  “Our brothers are going to die when they see you.” Dragging Kamara through the front doors, Veronica finally released her as she called out to their other siblings.

  “Damn, Ronnie, can you be louder?” With a hand on the curving banister, Nikolai’s youngest brother, Syrus, descended two steps before stopping dead in his tracks. “Nik?”

  “Hey, Sy.” Nikolai nodded. “Long time, etcetera.”

  “Holy shit.” Tossing his head back, he yelled for their middle brother. “Jonah, get your ass out here.”

  “Really, Sy, must you be so crass?” Veronica smoothed the wrinkles from her dress with no small measure of indignation.

  Syrus flew down the staircase, taking the steps two and three at a time, then barreled right into Nikolai. “Damn, it’s good to see you.” He thumped Nikolai on the back twice before releasing him and turning to Kamara. “Welcome to our humble abode. You hungry?”

  “I could eat,” Kamara repeated.

  “Your mate?” Syrus arched one golden eyebrow and smirked. “Good job, man. She’s hot.”

  “Syrus!” Veronica chastised. “Do you have any manners at all?”

  Their brother just rolled his eyes. “Forget her. She thinks because we live in this dusty old house that she’s some southern belle now. It’s kind of annoying actually.”

  Winding an arm around his mate, Nikolai pulled her close and laughed. It was good to know that some things never changed. He opened his mouth to introduce Kamara properly, but they were interrupted once more by another male at the top of the staircase.

  He had the same blond hair as the rest of them, the same angular features, but Nikolai and his other siblings had their mother’s eyes, Jonah inherited their father’s stormy gray irises. With a leather-bound book in his right hand, he descended the stairs slowly, moving with a fluidity that Nikolai had never been able to imitate.

  Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he embraced Nikolai, holding the back of his head as he squeezed him tight. “I’m glad you’re back.”

  As they broke apart, Nikolai felt a pang of guilt, like a hard ball in the pit of his stomach. “You know why I had to stay away.”

  “We do,” Veronica answered, but she chewed her bottom lip, a nervous habit she’d adopted as a child. “It does the beg the question, though. Why are you here now?”

  Beside him, Kamara raised her hand. “That would be me.”

  “Your mate?” Jonah asked as he took Kamara’s hand and lifted it to his lips. “Jonah Diavolos. I’m pleased to meet you.”

  “Kamara.” She pulled her hand back when he released it and shoved it into the pocket of her jacket. “Veronica, Syrus, and Jonah.” She nodded three times. “Got it. I’m happy to meet you all.”

  “I’m starving.” Turning away from them, Syrus began walking toward a wide, arching doorway bracketed by towering columns. “Dining room is this way. We can eat while Nik fills us in on the last ten years.”

  Flanked by Kamara on his left and Jonah on his right, Nikolai followed their youngest brother through the sprawling house to an elegant dining room decorated in pale creams and deep reds. A tiny woman with bronzed skin and raven hair fluttered around the ten-person table, placing silverware and filling water glasses.

  “Bread and salad are on the table,” she said when they entered the room. “I’m just going to get the gumbo.” Staring up at Nikolai with big green eyes, she smiled brightly. “I noticed we have guests. Is it just the two?”

  “Just the two,” Jonah confirmed. “Thank you, Anita.”

  “This is our brother, Nikolai.” With a dramatic flourish, Veronica waved toward him. “And his mate, Kamara.” Smiling fondly, she moved her hand toward the other human female. “This is Anita Dupree. She takes care of us.”

  Hurrying around the table, Anita shook Nikolai’s hand first, then Kamara’s. “They’re spoiled little monsters,” she stated affectionately, “but I love them.” She turned to Veronica. “Will Kayse and Heather be joining us?”

  Nikolai blinked. “I’m sorry, who?”

  “You’re not the only one with a hot mate.” Sliding into one of the chairs, Syrus grabbed a buttered roll from the bread basket. “You’ll like Heather. She’s fun.”

  “Meaning?” Jonah asked dangerously.

  “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

  “So,” Kamara hurried to interrupt, “I guess that means Kayse is your mate, Jonah? Will I be meeting her?”

  Jonah’s eyes softened, and his gaze took on wistful, faraway look. Nikolai wondered if he looked like that when he thought of Kamara. He imagined he probably did.

  “Yes, Kayse is my mate. She and Heather are visiting friends for the day, but they’ll be home this evening.”

  “Kayse is okay. She’s a little, you know…” Syrus whistled twice as he twirled his finger near his temple.

  “You know I only keep you around so that I’m not the only male in the house, right?” Jonah tilted his head toward Nikolai. “With our brother back, that may change.”

  Biting in the yeast roll, Syrus chewed quickly and swallowed. “We’re still outnumbered.”

  “Behave,” Anita scolded, smacking Syrus in the back of the head as she passed him on her way to the kitchen. “I’ll feed you to the gators.”

  He ducked his head with a boyish grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Nikolai looked forward to meeting his brothers’ mates when they returned, but he wondered about the wisdom of allowing them so far from home without protection.

  “Congratulations, and I wish you both happiness, but is it a good idea to let them travel alone?”

  Veronica flicked her wrist. “It’s only a mile down the road. You can see the house from here.”

  Okay, maybe he’d overreacted. Maybe it was because he was still adjusting to having a mate of his own. Perhaps one day, he’d be able to let Kamara visit friends a mile away without worrying about her every second she was gone.

  Jonah motioned toward a pair of empty seats on the other side of the ta
ble. “Please sit, and tell us why you’ve come. I get the feeling this isn’t a purely social visit. Has something happened, Nikolai? Are you in trouble?”

  Nikolai held a chair out for Kamara before settling into the one beside her. “I think we all are. It’s father.”

  Everyone froze, and the room became as quiet as a tomb.

  Syrus paused with a piece of bread halfway to his mouth. Jonah stopped walking mid-step, causing him to stumble into the nearest chair. Veronica crouched over her own seat, half sitting, half standing, her expression a combination of fear and torment.

  “What’s happened?” Regaining his footing, Jonah swept to the chair at the head of the table. “Does he know where we are?”

  “Of course not.” Syrus popped the last piece of bread from his roll into his mouth. “Otherwise, he’d have murdered us in our sleep.”

  “As far as I’m aware, he doesn’t know you’re here.” At least Nikolai could offer them that much comfort. “However, I know for a fact that he’s in Dallas with the Abraxas coven.”

  “Dallas?” Veronica placed a hand over her mouth as she gasped. “That’s close. That’s too close.”

  “Trinity Grove is gone.” It hurt to think about, and Nikolai wished he could have come with better news. “Burned to the ground.”

  “A fire that injured your father,” Kamara added before taking a sip from her water glass.

  “And what would you know about our father?”

  Nikolai snarled at his sister. “Watch your tone.”

  Properly cowed, she looked away with a mumbled apology.

  “Look, I don’t know your dad, and from the sound of it, I’m not missing out on much. All I know about him is he gave me these.” Kamara bared her fangs and hissed. “Is that good enough for you, princess?”

  Leaning back in his seat, Syrus laughed right from his belly. “Oh, I like you. Let’s keep her.”

  “Syrus?” Jonah spoke with all the irritation and exasperation of an older brother. “Do us all a favor and stop talking.”

  For Nikolai, it was as if the last ten years hadn’t happened. Syrus was still a smartass and an instigator. Veronica still craved being the center of attention, and Jonah was still an old soul in a young body. Even with all their squabbling, Nikolai had missed them terribly.

  “Father sired your mate,” his sister mused. “How unfortunate.”

  Pointing at Nikolai with his soup spoon, Syrus snorted. “It’s creepy. A little gross, but mostly creepy.”

  When Kamara stiffened, jerking so violently she rattled her place setting, Nikolai assumed she was angry about his brother’s comment. One look at her, however, and he knew she probably hadn’t heard a word of it. Grabbing the seat of her chair, he spun her to face him and held her chin.

  “You’re okay, cara mia. I know you can hear me, so just focus on my voice.” He dropped his hand and held a firm grip on both of her wrists when her hands clenched into fists. “No, you don’t. Focus on me, Kamara.”

  “Is she okay?” Veronica asked with genuine concern evident in her tone.

  Jonah stood, but he seemed unsure if he should approach them or not. “Is it a seizure?”

  “She’s okay.” Bringing her hands to his mouth, he pressed his lips to her clenched fists and waited.

  The entire episode lasted no more than half a minute, but it felt like an eternity. Nikolai hated what his father had done to her, despised that the bastard had power over her. As if being sired to the asshole wasn’t enough, every time Elias invaded her mind, it put her at risk. It could happen while she was driving, or crossing the street, or chopping vegetables. Nikolai shuddered at the thought of leaving her alone, even for a second.

  Coming out of the fugue, Kamara met his gaze, her chocolate-brown eyes wide, her cheeks red. “Oh, shit,” she whispered. “Please tell me I didn’t do anything embarrassing.”

  “Not at all.” She could have stood on the dining table and clucked like a chicken, and he’d have told her the same. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Pulling her hands away, she shoved them into her lap as she turned to look at his siblings. “I’m sorry. I can’t really control it.”

  “What are you trying to control?” Veronica asked with more kindness in her voice this time. “What was that?”

  “Your dad.” Kamara picked up her glass, but her hands shook so badly, she had to set the goblet back on the table when water splashed over the rim. “I hear him in my head sometimes, and it’s getting worse.”

  Nikolai expected his siblings to gasp, gape, or to declare it wasn’t possible. None of those things happened. Instead, they glanced at each other, their expressions grave, knowing. They knew something, and if it could help his mate, Nikolai wanted to know it, too.

  “What?” he demanded. “What do you know?”

  “You didn’t tell us your mate was a witch,” Jonah answered evenly.

  Taking offense to what he perceived as a slight, Nikolai slammed his fist down on the table and growled.

  “Easy, brother.” Resting her elbows on the table, Veronica clasped her hands together and leaned forward. “No one is insulting your mate.”

  Syrus looked at Kamara, and when he spoke, his voice was devoid of its usual cockiness. “How long ago were you turned?”

  “Um, about a week.” Tensing, Kamara glanced at Nikolai from the corner of her eye, then back to Syrus. “Why? Someone tell me what the hell is going on.”

  Lips pursed, brow furrowed, Veronica unclasped her hands and flattened them against the tabletop. “So, you’ve only known each other for a week?”

  “Not exactly,” Kamara answered before Nikolai could say anything. Her eyes twinkled with mischief, and her lips twitched into a sly grin. “I’ve known Nik for years.”

  “And you haven’t claimed her yet?” Syrus quirked an eyebrow at them.

  Nikolai had zero interest in taking relationship advice from someone who called females “hot” and asked if he could keep them. It had taken him about two seconds to conclude that his brother’s mate possessed the patience of a saint.

  “Can we get back to why you would think my mate is a witch?”

  It was preposterous. The witches had been hunted to extinction ages ago. Apart from movies, books, and campfire stories told on Halloween, no one had seen or heard of a magic-wielder in over a century.

  “She was very much human. Kamara, tell them you were very much human.”

  “I was very much human,” she deadpanned, causing Veronica to giggle.

  “It will never happen again,” his sister mused, “but in this instance, I agree with Syrus. I like her.”

  Jonah, ever serious, ignored them. “No one in your family? There was no one who could do strange things, things no one could explain?”

  Kamara had started shaking her head before he’d finished speaking, but she stopped suddenly and straightened in her seat. “My grandmother. She thought she could predict the future, said she saw it in her dreams.”

  “Was it true?”

  Kamara shrugged. “I don’t know. She died before I was born. That’s just what my mom used to tell me.”

  “What about you?” Using his fork, Syrus stabbed a cherry tomato in his salad. “You ever do anything like that?”

  “I, uh…” Pressing her lips together, Kamara looked at Nikolai, clearly unsure of how much she should reveal.

  Nikolai trusted his siblings implicitly. “Tell them.”

  Blowing out a long breath that puffed her cheeks, Kamara nodded. “I’ve been dreaming about Nikolai since I was a kid, but I didn’t know he existed until a few days ago.”

  Again, his siblings glanced at each other.

  “Anyone else in your family?” Jonah asked.

  “Not that I know. What family I had left died in the Purge, so it’s not like I can ask anyone.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” Distractedly, Jonah smoothed the edge of the folded cloth napkin beside his plate. “I don’t believe that’s strictly true,
however.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Gripping the edge of the table hard enough to splinter it, Kamara stiffened. She’d lost everyone to the virus, and for the first year after the Purge, she’d wandered, alone and lost. Losing her sister had been the hardest, watching her waste away to nothing before finally succumbing to the infection. Everyone was gone. Everyone had died.

  Everyone except her.

  A loud bang echoed throughout the house, followed by pounding footsteps that grew louder as they approached the dining room. Kamara spun toward the sound, her posture defensive, but no one else seemed alarmed by the sudden commotion.

  A moment later, a young woman with curly red hair and frantic blue eyes tripped into the room, her chest heaving with every breath. Her gaze pierced Kamara, and her pink lips parted in a strange mixture of disbelief and satisfaction.

  “You’re here.”

  Kamara frowned. “I guess I am.”

  This had to be Kayse. She didn’t seem crazy like Syrus had suggested, but Kamara did find her a little unnerving.

  “You’re finally here.” Pressing her fingertips to her mouth, Kayse giggled a little wildly. “I knew it. We were drinking mimosas, and I just knew. I ran all the way back.”

  The bell sleeves of her black, ruffled top fell around her elbows when she pressed her hands to her cheeks, revealing skin only half a shade darker than liquid paper. Nikolai had fair skin, as well as his siblings. Most vampires did since they avoided the sun as much as possible. They didn’t burst into flames or disintegrate like in the movies, but the PN2 virus did make their skin and eyes hypersensitive to sunlight.

  This woman was no vampire, though.

  Even when Kamara was excited, nervous, or scared, her heart now beat at half that of an average human. Kayse’s heart fluttered like the flapping of hummingbird wings. Kamara was also learning to distinguish the different races by scent. She’d kind of assumed shifters would smell like wet fur, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Like Thea, they all had some underlying scent that reminded her of licorice.