Legacy: The Niteclif Evolutions, Book 1

by Denise Tompkins

  “Maddy?” he asked again, and this time the impatience was palpable in his voice.

  “I came out to speak to you and you were sleeping,” I began. “You looked horrible—dark circles under your eyes, sallow skin, short breaths, no movement, and I thought…” I tilted my chin up to look at him and he looked down, his eyes still dragon blue. Maintaining eye contact was difficult, but I considered it a sort of penance for our fight. “I thought you were sick or dying, and I had a flashback to the terror I felt when I lost my parents and it just gutted me, Bay. I don’t think I could stand to lose you, not now.”

  He smiled at me, his eyes flashing back to midnight blue. “You’ve not lost me, mo chrid. I’m angry with you, but you have a right to be angry with me too. I haven’t been totally forthcoming with you about what I knew about your Change. I probably could have influenced you more to try to stop the Change, but I didn’t want to.” He paused, rolling us to our side on the little sofa so that it was cling to each other or fall off. He rubbed his hand up and down my spine gently, laying soft kisses on my forehead. He sighed and rolled to the floor before standing up, leaving me alone on the sofa. “This isn’t going to work.”

  I couldn’t school my face fast enough to hide the heartbreak I felt at his words.

  “The sofa, my love, the sofa is what’s not going to work. Come with me to my bedroom.”

  “Bay—”

  “Cuddle time,” he said, grabbing my hand and relieving me of the responsibility of thinking through the implications of getting back into bed with him. I didn’t even want to negotiate. I wanted the solid firmness of his reality shielding me. Just for a moment I didn’t want to hunt or be hunted.

  Hand in hand, we walked into his bedroom. Bahlin pushed me gently toward the bed and I went, sitting on the edge. His room was a mirror image of mine, though the bed was larger and took up more of the floor space. I missed his bed at Brylanna’s house. He moved through the room, picking up candles and holding them to his face, humming then breathing on them gently to light them. When he got to the window, he closed the shades and the curtains, dropping the room into flickering darkness. With his back to me, he pulled his shirt off over his head and I held my breath for a split second.

  “Bay, I’m not ready to—”

  “Sex has no part of this. We’re reconnecting, my love. Sometimes a little skin-to-skin contact is good for that, don’t you think?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Haven’t you ever fought with a lover before?”

  I blushed and my heart hurt a little. I’d not had a lover passionate enough to fight with—ever. And it hurt that he had obvious experience in this type of thing.

  “No, Bahlin, I’ve never had a lover I fought with.” I looked down, afraid to meet his eyes. A pair of bare feet made their way into my field of view. I couldn’t look up. He reached out and pulled me close.

  “No wonder our argument affected you so, Madeleine. Hush now,” he said, and I realized I was crying again. Stupid girl hormones, they raise their damnable heads at the most inopportune times and make you feel like a wimp. I sniffed and laid my head on his chest.

  “Hush,” he said again. “I’m sorry I was angry with you. You have a knack for infuriating me, and I’m scared for you and that only makes it worse because I can’t always express my fear so it bubbles over as unnecessary anger sometimes. And now I’m rambling. Truth?” he asked.

  “Always.” He looked skeptical. I snaked a hand to his face and grabbed his chin, pulling his face down toward mine. “Always,” I growled, “no matter how badly it might hurt. I don’t know how to trust you otherwise.” I shook my head, and released his face. “And I don’t know how to reconcile these feelings I have for you, either. Truth. Always.”

  He took a deep breath and exhaled sharply over my head. “Okay. I don’t like how I feel about you.” I flinched. “You said truth, so here it is, Madeleine. My feelings for you are new and raw and I want to protect you from all comers, but I can’t. I can’t, and still let you do your job. It gutted me that you would consider giving up whatever is building between us to go back to your old life without a backwards glance or thought for me.” He sighed, more softly this time, and stepped away from me. “And the murders keep coming and I feel like we’re not getting anywhere on them and it concerns me.” He laid his cheek on my head, and I wrapped my arms around him.

  “Truth?” I asked him.

  “Always.”

  “Stop calling me Madeleine.”

  He laughed out loud and crushed me to him in a bear, er, dragon hug.

  We cuddled together in silence for about an hour before my stomach revolted and began to growl in earnest.

  “Is there any food here?” I asked.

  “Probably a little, though I wouldn’t eat anything in the fridge. In fact, don’t even open it. I’m not sure what’s in there but whatever it is has likely spoiled. It’s been a while since I was here last.”

  I got up and straightened my clothes and walked to the kitchen. I swear I’d heard him tell me not to open the fridge, but out of sheer force of habit it was the first place I went. I pulled it open, gasped, and slammed it shut.

  “Bahlin?” I squeaked out. I turned around and slid down the face of the fridge, landing on my butt.

  “I told you not to open the fridge,” he called from the bedroom, where I could hear him rustling about. “It’s probably got goddess knows what in there, and it’s too likely rank.”

  I giggled, a high, unnatural sound for me. “Bay?” I breathed out.

  He padded out of the bedroom, still barefoot, got one look at me and froze. I know the grin I was sporting was Hannibal Lecter-ish, but it was appropriate.

  “What is it, Maddy?” He didn’t move closer to me. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Death.”

  “There’s a head in your refrigerator, Bahlin.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I sat with my back against the refrigerator and tried desperately not to lose myself to hysterical laughter. If I started I didn’t think I’d stop for a long, long time. Bahlin had been right when he told me not to open the refrigerator door. What was inside was definitely rank. I watched him move back and away from the refrigerator and, closing his eyes, take a deep breath.

  “Clever. Now that the refrigerator has been opened, I can’t smell anything but the stench of death in the air. Whoever was in the apartment must have intended it that way.” He sat on a barstool and looked at me. “Are you ready to get up yet?”

  I shrugged. I was pretty sure my legs would work. What I wasn’t sure about was whether they would take me from the room at a dead run or let me stand and be rational about my find. Taking a chance, I stood.

  “Good girl. This will get easier.”

  “That’s partly what I’m afraid of.” I didn’t want death to get easier. I didn’t want this to become commonplace—where I was afraid to open a cupboard or appliance or drawer for fear of what might pop out at me. My mind and heart were racing, and I took a deep breath in an attempt to slow things down. I needed to approach this logically.

  “Why don’t I smell anything?” I asked.

  “The fridge kept it cold. You wouldn’t smell it unless it was taken out and warmed up, giving decomposition a chance to begin.”

  “Sure. Okay.” I swallowed down the bile that was trying to rise up the back of my throat. “Did you recognize the, uh, I guess we’ll call it the head?”

  “I’m willing to bet it’s Jossel.”

  “And I’m betting you’re wrong.” I knew whose head it was with absolute certainty. Because I’d seen him once before and tried very hard not to stare. Death had cooled the color of his eyes, but the nose was absolutely the same.

  Bahlin crossed his arms over his chest. “Okay, super sleuth, tell me who it is, then.”

  I glared at him, irritated at his supposed superiority. “Bulbous nose, black hair, sharp teeth and eyes a little less vibrant but still orange. It’s Maddo
x.”

  “Well damn, you’re right.” Bahlin pushed off the stool and stalked toward me. “Move over, luv. Let’s get him out of there.”

  I didn’t need to see the head to be sure. I’d tried so hard not to stare at him the one time I’d seen him alive that I knew who I’d seen. But I followed Bahlin’s directive and stepped aside. I turned to watch him and found myself looking through the dining room to the front door.

  “Bay, how did the killer get inside?” I asked.

  “What? Oh sodding hell, the front door wards.” He froze, his hand momentarily suspended in front of the handle to the refrigerator door.

  “Didn’t you say only another dragon could get inside?”

  “I did. I set the wards myself.” Clenching his fists, he turned slowly to face me. Eyes blazing with fury and taller than a normal man, he looked like an avenging angel.

  “I haven’t met another dragon, have I?” I did a mental file flip, trying to remember everyone I’d been formally introduced to.

  “You’ve met several. The valet, for instance, is a green dragon though he’s still a youth,” he said, voice tight with anger. “You’re not suggesting I set this up, I’m sure.”

  “Never crossed my mind.” And it hadn’t. “Where was I when I met the other dragon, or dragons? And why didn’t I know it?”

  “You’ve not come into your full strength. We’ve talked about this.” Bahlin spun on his heel and went for the front door, moving with the contained fury of the righteously pissed. “Several of the staff of the hotel are dragons. Though I’d swear none knew of this apartment until I left tonight and gave the address for delivery of our clothing. Even then, it would have been left with the doorman. It takes a bit of time to find out which apartment belongs to a person, particularly in a building this size. Besides that, it’s been my personal hideout several times over the years, and it has never been breached before.”

  Bahlin reached the door and ran a hand swiftly across the back of it, barely above the surface. I gasped in surprise. Faint runes showed in glowing acidic green against the black color of the door. I didn’t have any idea what the runes meant, but they were complex in nature. I could tell that much simply by the intricate design of each one and the delicate way they were connected in forming the pattern I saw. Bahlin made a rough swiping motion over the door, and the images disappeared.

  “I can’t get anything from the wards since I was the last one to open the door. It was foolish of me to not even check before we entered the apartment. Nay, not foolish but arrogant. I won’t be making that mistake again.”

  I quirked an eyebrow. I might not have known Bahlin well, but I already knew enough to know that arrogance was simply a part of his persona. I would bet my life on it. But I let it go, deciding it was best not to poke the angry dragon.

  I took a deep breath and said, “Let’s open the fridge and get this over with.” I could immediately taste my pulse in my throat.

  Bahlin walked back into the kitchen and put an arm around me in camaraderie. “Agreed. Let’s get it over with. Take a deep breath, sweetheart, the first time’s always the worst.” He grinned a lecherous grin and waggled his eyebrows at me, and I laughed. Having accomplished what he set out to do, he opened the door and we faced the head together.

  Just as I’d thought, it was Maddox.

  “I suppose he was killed because…” I paused, unsure what to say. I wasn’t fishing for a response from Bahlin, but I got one anyway.

  “There could be a number of reasons, pet,” he said. He set the head directly on the counter and I made a mental note to never, ever use the counter for anything food related. Hell, I doubted I’d use that little stretch of counter ever.

  Maddox’s head had been severed right below the jaw line in a clean cut. Due to the temperature of the refrigerator there was very little blood beyond what had pooled on the shelf the head had occupied.

  “How long has he been here do you think?”

  “Depends on a number of factors,” Bahlin said.

  “Check the temperature setting on the refrigerator,” I suggested. “If it’s been set lower, we’ll know he’s been better preserved. In fact, let me get that. You look at the head first. I’ll get there in a minute.” I’d buy as much time as I could before having to get close to the noggin.

  Bahlin turned the head on the side, resting it on the ear, and I spun around to the refrigerator. No need to throw up on my first violent crime scene. I opened the door to the refrigerator and saw all the congealed blood and the smears through it where Bahlin had removed the head. I had the briefest moment to think, Too bad I’m not gonna make it, and I threw up all over the inside of the fridge, right on top of the evidence.

  “You’re lucky I’m not a sympathetic vomiter,” Bahlin said, chuckling. “Grab a look at the temperature on the fridge and then go rinse your mouth in the sink.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I mumbled, wiping my mouth with the hem of my shirt. I glanced at the setting on the temperature gauge and shut the door on the mess. “I think I’d suggest you just buy a new fridge. In fact, take it out of my first paycheck.” Because however rude it was, I knew I wasn’t going to be cleaning up that mess.

  “No worries, Maddy. Now rinse your mouth and let’s go over Maddox here.”

  “No. Let’s not give the head a name. It’s too personal. Call him it, or thing, or head, but not…” I couldn’t even bring myself to say his name. Even though he’d shot me, I was somehow remorseful to see him dead, especially by violence. Because I was betting the murderer hadn’t put him down humanely and then cut his head off.

  Bahlin grinned at me over his shoulder. “Sure. Then rinse your mouth, and we’ll go over it.” He laughed and went back to the head on the counter, bending to look at the underside of the jaw.

  I went to the sink and washed my mouth out. Realizing I had vomit detritus on the bottom of my shirt from where I’d wiped my mouth, I told Bahlin I’d be right back and went into the bedroom to change. I didn’t want any of the sickness on me. The smell was burned into my nose and I almost couldn’t stand that much of a reminder that I’d tossed my supper. Bahlin had said sympathetic vomiter as a joke. I was the real deal, even if it was just residual. Could one be sympathetic to one’s self? I wondered, snorting out loud. This wasn’t the time to be engaging in my own philosophical internal dialogue, even as a means of escapism. I had work to do. I dug out a clean T-shirt and dragged it on over my head, dropping the dirty shirt in the corner of the room as I walked back to the kitchen.

  Bahlin stood aside, motioning me forward with a sweep of the hand. “You’ve got to get close to it eventually, Maddy. Might as well jump in now that you’ve emptied your stomach.”

  “Never, ever refer to this moment again, Bahlin,” I growled at him. “Never. Do you understand me? It is not to ever be repeated. It is not to ever be mentioned. It is not to ever be recounted in any form.”

  “Ah, I can’t make that promise, Maddy, for fear I’d be lying to you, which I already promised not to do. I will, however, promise not to make jests today.”

  I shrugged, figuring it was probably the best I could do at the moment. I walked over to the head and looked at it. The skin was gray, probably from loss of blood but also from Maddox’s natural color when he’d been alive. I was loath to touch it but I did, doing my best not to recoil from the firm, rubbery texture. Looking at it analytically, there were several factors I had to take into consideration. I needed to see the head from several angles to form a hypothesis. But first I had to wash my hands to get the death cooties off. Yes, I know they don’t exist but after touching the body I was creeped out. I washed my hands thoroughly with water as hot as I could stand it and dried them on my clean shirt.

  Turning to Bahlin I said, “Bay, would you handle the head for me? I’m not quite there yet.”

  “Sure. Want me to roll it around?” His eyes sparkled with mischief.

  “Did you act this way with Aloysius?” I grumped.

 
“Absolutely I did. He threw up at his first body, too, you know. Though no one wants to talk about that in the memoirs. But it’s true.”

  I smiled up at him, nearly ignoring the fact I’d bent closer to the head. “Thanks for that. But remember, we’re not discussing it. It never happened.”

  “Ah, see, I apologize. I didn’t mean to lie earlier.”

  “No problem. Would you tip that head this way, then let me see the bottom side?”

  Bahlin rolled the head around slowly, letting me get a good look at it from different angles. As I suspected, the cut was clean, the separation of the spinal cord surgical. After several more minutes of careful review, I asked him to set it down. I walked into the living room and sat on the sofa, but Bahlin stayed in the kitchen.

  “Come in here with me after you’ve thoroughly washed your hands.”

  Rolling his eyes, Bahlin went to the sink and washed his hands. “You realize we’ve got to get out of here, right? Now that we’ve looked the head over, there’s not much time to be sitting on the couch and discussing things.”

  I was embarrassed to admit that I hadn’t, in fact, thought that far ahead. I shrugged and said, “So, do we need to leave now?” I glanced out the window in the living room. The surreal events of the evening had screwed up my perception of time. “What time is it?”

  “It’s about eleven,” he said, glancing at the stove clock. “We really should leave…” he trailed off, looking concerned. I think we were both a bit out of sorts, I because of the severed head, and he out of concern of me and my reactions.