Mistwalker

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Mistwalker Page 2

by Fraser, Naomi


  “I can’t take you there. Something’s wrong.”

  Tammy growled, “Yes, you can, and you will. So there was a bit of shouting. It doesn’t matter.”

  Simone sighed, unmoving. “I don’t know.”

  “I mean it, Simone. You’ve been waiting ages for this chance.”

  She sighed. “Can’t remember the last time you did as I bloody told you.” Simone shot Tammy a wry look and shook her head. “Should’ve known you’d be stubborn as all hell. Stay behind me.”

  Tammy laughed. “Yee-hah.” But her clutch strap broke, and the bag struck the sidewalk, filling the gutter with lipsticks and coins. “Dammit. Wait up, hon. My ID’s on the ground. Damn cheap costume gear.”

  “Are you all right? Here.” Simone stopped and scooped up some coins, but a gust of wind pushed her back before she could grab more. The shop signs creaked and clanged furiously on their hooks, and the gust chilled the sweat on her face and hands. The air smelt intensely of rain at first, and then it became dark and cold.

  Too dark.

  Baffled, she looked up.

  The fog coalesced. Solidified. Shoulders formed, solid arms appeared from nothing, and a man’s crisp, white shirt fluttered in the breeze.

  The streetlight slashed yellow rays across his face. The light was pure gold, angelic. And all at once, he was there.

  Simone blinked once, twice, her fingers numbed, and she heard the ting, flutter, and roll of coins hitting the ground. The taste of old pennies filled her mouth. An insistent, buzzing voice in her head screamed at her to get up, step back, but her knees stiffened, her palms hot and damp.

  The wind outlined grey tailored pants that moulded powerful legs. She looked up…and up…to a massive chest and broad shoulders. His face. Oh, dear Lord, his face. He tilted his head, and two silver eyes pierced the half-light.

  Stunned, images of the stained-glass windows at the church filled her mind. Pictures of winged creatures descending the heavens to pounce on sinners and take them to the fiery depths of hell, but instead of horns and black wings, he wore a three piece suit and a wicked grin.

  Chapter Two

  She should be running. Run, run. But…but he’d appeared. Out of nowhere. She couldn’t run from that. The flesh twisted above her elbow. “Ow! What?” she snapped, and rubbed at the stinging spot on her arm.

  “Pay attention,” her friend whispered. “Tell me you saw him appear from thin air. I’m not imagining that.”

  They’d been drugged. No other explanation. A costume didn’t give you the ability to materialise, especially not blood-spattered pants, a white dress shirt, and an expensive coat. Wait. Her focus sharpened and lowered.

  Her stomach dropped in an icy rush. Blood spattered dress pants? Yes, tiny dark dots of an unmistakable colour flicked all over his dark grey pants. The empty shops and huddled apartments stood as the only sentry to their imminent attack. They had the numbers—two against one—yet Simone could tell by his build, his very presence, that she’d need every bit of her training to be the victor in a fight.

  Steely resolve flowed through her system, pushing out the fear. Her heart pounded, but she adjusted into stance. Rarely was she without a weapon, but thankfully, she didn’t need one to survive.

  He glided forward silently on the pavement, hovering a clear inch above the ground. His black polished shoes glinted in the light until he was a foot away from her.

  “Wha…?” Simone gaped.

  “Oh shit. Shit!” Tammy said. “Couldn’t figure it out. Damn. Don’t bother running.”

  Simone turned slightly to her. “What’s—”

  Tammy muttered, “Do whatever you can to survive—”

  “Look into my eyes. Heed what I say.”

  His voice, oh, it embodied smooth and luxurious. The vibration harnessed some kind of unknown tremor; it filled the crevices of shadows, empty streets, alleyways, echoing in Simone’s heart. A voice like that could cloak the sun and make a person believe it was night.

  She backed up, her jaw working.

  Another dark figure loped across the street toward them, but his progress was slow and determined. He moaned a sound she’d heard long ago. A certain pitch that she thought was hunger.

  Instantly, a horrible sense of déjà vu overtook her. Butterflies disintegrated to ash inside her stomach. It was happening again; right here in Whitby where she’d once lost everything.

  “Tammy, go! Don’t wait for me,” Simone said, determination burning in her heart. “I’ll handle this. Go.”

  The heat of Tammy’s body remained still, positioned steadfastly behind Simone’s.

  She spun around. “Go.” She waved a frantic hand in front of Tammy’s face, and then gave her a frantic push in the opposite direction.

  “You must hear me. Look. Heed me.” The man who stopped them loosened the knot of his tie, and then he stepped to the side. He slid one hand behind Simone’s vampire mask and tossed it to the pavement.

  He stiffened before her body could form a reaction.

  His glowing gaze widened and stared straight into hers, his lush mouth parted in complete shock. “It is you.”

  Simone pushed Tammy’s stiff body behind her further into the shadows, never once taking her eyes off him. She wasn’t about to attack before she spotted a weakness. “Get away from us. I mean it. We don’t have any money. I promise that you will regret this.”

  He followed her footsteps, his silver gaze locked on hers, resolute. The lamp’s beam swept away the shadows from his face. His neat, long black hair was gathered at the base of his neck by a black ribbon, showing firm, alabaster skin. The hard planes of his face were angular. Terrifyingly gorgeous.

  “I am not after your money, but you…are finally here,” he whispered. The words were gentle with a touch of autocracy. A wide grin split his face, revealing a gleam of white uniform teeth. “You came to me.”

  She reared back. Doubt and unease crawled in her stomach. That was not a normal smile, but he talked like he knew her. She frowned, thinking of the hundreds of martial arts competitors she’d trained with over the years. She met the occasional badass who knew her. But what was with the hallucinating? What had been in their drinks? She rubbed her forehead. Her mind didn’t feel cloudy.

  “Do I know you or something?”

  His sensuous mouth kicked up at the corners. “Probably not, love. However, I know you and that is enough for me.” He kissed her palm before she could stop him. “As you appear in the flesh, so shall you be for an eternity.” He gently curled her fingers over his kiss. “That is my promise to you, and you fulfilled yours by finding me.”

  Heat and anger bloomed in her face. A silky fire trailed where his lips touched her skin, up her arm, and then tingled all the way down her spine. So startled at the electric sensations and how she wasn’t quick enough stop him, she tried to think up a rejection with her hand burning from that single kiss.

  “Don’t touch me. Your face doesn’t ring a bell.” He was obviously another loony; he just didn’t bother to dress like one for the festival. “I’m sure I would have remembered you. You have a very distinctive face. And act.” She yanked back her hand and frowned up at him. “Let us go.”

  His gaze slid to her mouth and stayed there. “The link is unfamiliar with humans,” he confided, pressing a thumb against one of his sharp canine teeth. “If I had known you were here, I would have been waiting to collect, have no fear of that. But I had other matters to attend to. Life and death concerns.” The pale skin crinkled at the corner of his eyes, and his heated gaze returned on the bust of her corset and lazily voyaged over the rest of her costume. “You are more than I have ever envisaged. Perfection. Mortal flawlessness.”

  The conviction in his words made her heart flounder with absolute fear. Something, some warning that she relied on constantly, told her that something momentous was about to happen, and that this man would be the catalyst.

  She clutched the strap of her handbag to better hide her hand reaching
inside, then pushed the hair out of her eyes. “I repeat, we’re not interested. Get out of my way before I make you.”

  He smiled, and then to her consternation, he laughed. That laughter echoed in the night, and he threw back his head, then his light gaze pinned to the spot beneath her ear, and his head tilted to the side, curiosity stamping his features. He slid closer, an inch too close for Simone’s comfort. Her breathing picked up.

  “What happened to your neck?” His nostrils flared. “You’re hurt. That’s a scar. Who did this? What is their name?”

  “None of your damn business.” She grabbed hold of Tammy’s arm, determined to all but drag away her friend, but Simone’s long hair ruffled across her arms, and a putrid stench filled her nose. Her stomach rolled. “Oh, God. What is that?”

  “Sire, I cannot wait any longer. Let me drink them now. Once more to replace what I have lost.”

  The other man stood a hair’s breath away from her exposed back—but—had he said....Drink them? Her skin crawled, chin lifted. She squared her back to the wall, dropping her hands by her sides. How could she protect Tammy? Get her to safety?

  “Listen, we’re not interested. I don’t know who you are, and I don’t care. We’re leaving.”

  “I am Juliun Cel Batrin,” the first one announced, his arms behind his back. The wind shuffled through his dark ponytail. He said his name as though the shadows should flee at the very sound of it. “I promise you, in a short while you will know me very well.” He smiled again with that grin of total assurance and confidence. “Do not be scared.”

  Simone grinned back at him, and her hands fisted, opened, fisted. There was no way she was getting to know him. “Forget it. You’re crazy.”

  “There is nowhere else for you to go, love,” he said, softly. “You are here. With me.” He turned with a swift grace and melted into the shadows. “Follow me, both of you.”

  Tammy swayed, placing one foot in front of the other. Her face resembled an ice cube, her blonde head bobbled, cerulean eyes dulled and wide. She ambled along with a disjointed gait.

  “No, don’t. Stop.” Simone gripped a fistful of the black tulle at Tammy’s neck. Her friend’s head snapped back, the tulle fell off, but her body continued on its path. Panic sprung inside Simone, and she dug her fingers into her friend’s arm, desperately trying to claw her back.

  Simone resorted to a hard slap across her friend’s face to wake her up.

  Juliun swivelled and stared at Simone, directly into her eyes. “You are meant to be with me.” His voice warmed the air, deep and irresistible. “I told you. It is destiny. Come.”

  Simone gritted her teeth and struggled to still her friend. “You have no chance!”

  He laughed, and the sound caressed the night. “And, so the battle begins. You are mesmerising, my love. You give me no choice. I insist you come with me now.”

  Power slammed into Simone’s belly. Invisible tendrils wound around her arms, around her mind. She took a deep breath, then another…another. Her knees buckled, wanting to give, begging to move.

  “Yes,” Tammy said, her gaze fixated. “Go with you.”

  “No, we aren’t,” Simone gasped. “Not ever.” Persuasion strengthened, and she moaned. The skin tightened across her cheekbones, her entire body, and a painful sweat broke across her forehead. The fog encroached, overwhelmed. Hot agony stabbed her temples, radiating down the sides of her skull. She clutched at her head, groaning. No.

  “Yes. Forget resistance, listen to my voice.”

  Silky and insistent, his tone coaxed to fill every part of her mind. Thoughts scrambled. A long, low moan echoed in her ears. Hot tears tracked down her windblown cheeks. The wind came up strong and angry as it sometimes does in the streets of Whitby, and her hair spread in a wild red fan.

  She must obey him, but something, she didn’t know what, kept her motionless.

  “How do you fight me like this?” Juliun asked, darkly. “It is impossible. What are you? No human has ever—”

  A guttural, agonised roar broke out beside him. “Sire, I cannot wait any longer. Let me drink now.”

  The interruption tunnelled through the static drenching her mind, and she pushed Juliun’s voice inside a box, sealed the lid shut and left it at the far back corner of her consciousness.

  Confidence surged through her system. “Don’t touch us. Get back,” she burst out, roughly. GET OUT OF MY HEAD! She bent her knees, aligned to the side and rolled her shoulders.

  Juliun frowned, striding from the shadows as though he meant to inspect a wonky butterfly. His right hand felt solid, heavy, and cold her shoulder. So sure. “How can you fight me? That injury…did it make you…?”

  She dug her thumb between his knuckles to separate them, yanking his momentum forward. He didn’t shift or remove his hand from her hold. Then she folded his fingers back in a move that should have broken his hand. At least it had with most guys she trained with. Experienced fighters too, not some executive type with bloodied pants. No luck.

  The bigger they are, the harder they die. She darted a quick glance at Tammy who stood suspended in mid-animation.

  The other mugger moved so fast he flew. The rags he wore stank of sulphur and vomit, and he wrenched Tammy by a fistful of her long blonde hair.

  “At last,” he breathed raggedly, his chest heaving. Dirty dishevelled hair fluttered in the breeze. “I think I will die from hunger.”

  Juliun’s hand dissolved in hers, and he stepped toward him. “Lars, calm down. This is different. Listen.”

  Lars halted, and he and Juliun stared at each other in quiet communication. Lars’ eyes widened.

  Sharp knives stabbed inside Simone’s mind again, drowning out all thought. Her ears buzzed with static. She covered her ears. The sound didn’t stop. Her heart pounded, but slowly, a trickle of thought intruded. They’d kill her and her best friend if she didn’t do something. Tammy would die because Simone hadn’t possessed the courage to say no. Just like all those years ago. She’d repeated the same mistakes, walked right into their trap. She shook her head, tears leaking down her cheeks. She tried to block the pain, then realised she’d have to work through it. Last time, she’d never had the chance or strength.

  She opened her handbag and dug around for something, anything. Her fingers moved from lipsticks, cash, her cell, then closed around the prongs of her sharp wooden comb. The handle extended in a long, thin, deadly spike. She’d totally forgotten it was there. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do.

  Oh yes. It would do.

  Silently, she moved closer, skilfully utilising all the techniques she’d learned, and then aiming for the exact vein to inflict maximum pain, she thrust the spike deep in Lars’ neck.

  He tossed back his head, and his deep roar filled the night. Two bats screeched away from the top of the buildings and flew over her head.

  A haze covered her eyes as dark, red blood spurted over her clenched fist, running down the angle of her arm, elbow, and onto the pavement. She viciously twisted in the spike, then again, until he released Tammy. Simone yanked out the weapon and grabbed her friend with her other hand. The action was over in seconds.

  His head snapped around, and he stared at Simone, his white teeth flashing. But his eyes weren’t eyes at all. They were chips of blue flame and those teeth!

  Holy shit!

  His incisors extended. Curved and sharp and dripping with blood.

  She stared at the pointed ends, so razor sharp, not believing. She pushed Tammy away. Then Simone flew; shoved up against a brick wall, the breath knocked out of her lungs. Her muscles tensed before impact, and she spun her arms. She slipped from his grasp, jumped wide to break the hold, and then punched him in the throat, the end of the spike ramming through his skin.

  His body left hers, plucked like a leaf and held up by the scruff of his neck.

  “Lars.” Juliun sounded frustrated. “Do not ever touch her again. Understand me? She is…she’s mine.” His grip on Lars had him three feet off
the ground. “Stay away from her.”

  Lars groaned, nodded and then pointed to Tammy. “Give me the other one. I must drink, Sire. I don’t care what she is.”

  “Yes, if you can…control yourself.” Juliun set Lars to his feet, and then Juliun strode toward Simone, cornering her against the brick wall. He leaned down; his exotic face nearing her heaving breasts in the tight corset. A muffled groan emitted from his throat, his white teeth lengthening before her eyes. “My love, do not move. I have waited so long to find you. Lars is sick. We must be kind until he heals. He will fix your friend afterward.”

  Her heart thrummed so fast she thought she might faint on the spot.

  “I cannot believe you are here.” His light eyes were dazed, stark cheeks flushed. He lifted a shaking hand and rested it on the wall beside her head, then ever so gently brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers.

  She froze and clenched her teeth at his touch.

  “My beauty,” he breathed, reverently. “Besides, what is a little blood…?”

  Blood like what was all over his pants? Blood like what was on Lars’ teeth? Blood like what her mother laid in twenty years ago?

  Simone drove her elbow into Juliun’s rock solid cheekbone. One sharp push at the end of the comb, and she felt the unmistakable pop of pierced skin. She simultaneously kicked the back of his right knee and slammed him up against the brick wall.

  He stilled, staring down at the spike in her hands. The skin under his eyebrows stretched high, and then his face morphed into a mask.

  She leaned in, twisting the end, digging the wood deeper into the centre of his chest. “Touch me again. I dare you,” she said.

  His eyes widened. “What are you saying? Put down the stake.”

  “Stake?” Long splinters shot through her brain. Muscles trembled in her arm. She forced her mind to refuse the command, to deny his voice. Tammy gurgled, and Simone knew that sound. The last time she heard it, her mother died in her arms. Lars had her friend, meant to kill her.

 

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