Death of Night

by Krissy Reynolds

  "How did you get in here, anyway?" I asked belligerently.

  Liam looked up at me through his eyelashes. "Hmm," he purred, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

  I mimicked his pose on Will's side of the hallway. "Why are you here?"

  Liam raised a hand to his hair and smoothed it down. "Mr. Knightley sent me to bring you to his house."

  "Why didn't he come here on his own?" I asked.

  Liam jaw tightened. He dropped his hand, and replied, "Mr. Knightley is a busy man. He doesn't have time to waste on a little half-pint like you."

  That hurt more than I expected it would. Liam noticed my expression and sneered, "Because of you, he's being confronted by Thanatos at this very moment."

  I blinked. "Thanatos?"

  Liam looked irritated. "California's second highest master."

  "Master vampire?" I asked, my mouth hanging slightly open.

  In one blur, Liam's face was inches from mine. He had gone from the opposite wall to this one in about one third of a second. I hadn't even seen him coming. My heart thudded with fear, and my breathing quickened. He had one hand on the wall behind me, and he pressed in so close that my back was flat against it. I looked up into his livid face. His eyes had gone from their chocolaty brown to a cloudy black. Uh-oh. I'd seen that too many times before.

  "Do you think it wise," he hissed, his breath hitting my face, "to say that here?"

  I swallowed hard. His canines had slid out farther with his aggravation. They were so close to me.

  "Sorry," I muttered.

  Liam licked his lips and his black gaze trailed on my neck. "I'll kill you myself next time you slip up, sunshine. Remember that."

  His eyes flicked up to meet mine. He smiled wider to show off all his teeth. I resisted the urge to run far, far away, but put a hand up in between us instead. I pushed against his chest gently, but he didn't let up. He bent his head down to graze his teeth against my neck, and my entire body stiffened. My stomach tightened when his breath blew softly against my skin as he laughed. I shoved him away from me, and this time he let me. A smug smile was still spread across his face, and I wanted to slap it off of him. I didn't, for fear he would kill right then if I did.

  "Keep your fangs to yourself, buddy," I said as I cupped a hand to the spot he had scraped. I brought my hand back down, but saw no blood.

  Liam froze. "Buddy?" he repeated incredulously.

  I smiled innocently at him. He shook his head, exhaling in disbelief. I straightened my clothes, and walked past him to my apartment door. I reached in my jeans pocket to fish out the key. I couldn't help but jumping when Liam appeared next to me, leaning against the door, blocking my way.

  "What," he said, his menacing look back on his face, "do you think you're doing?"

  I paused, key in hand. I was almost touching him, so I took a wary step back. Liam eyes were gleaming in the dim, still a dull black colour.

  "We don't have time for stupid human things," he growled. "I have strict orders to bring you by seven."

  "Relax," I said, reaching out to push him out of the way. "I just need to get something."

  Liam stared at me, but didn't blink. After a few seconds, he shifted to let me insert my key into the lock. I opened the door and entered the apartment.

  Liam stood awkwardly at the front door, like an invisible barrier was keeping him from crossing the threshold. "Invite me in."

  I shot him an angelic smile, and said, "Um…no."

  He glared at me through the door, and I was happy to be in the safety of my apartment. I flicked the foyer light on, and looked around for my shoulder bag. It was most likely in the living room where I had set down the rest of bags, so I said, "Be right back," and walked in that direction.

  I found my purse sitting on my red velvet couch, looking a bit bulky. I took out the Firestar and walked back to the front door. Liam eyed it, and laughed, his voice echoing up and down the apartment's hallway.

  As I was tucking in between the waistband and the small of my back, Liam chuckled, "That won't kill us."

  "No," I said, "But I'm willing to bet it'll slow you down."

  Liam's laughter subsided, and he looked at me more closely. "You're not like other humans," he stated.

  I flicked the light off, and stood across from him, the doorway in between us. "What do you mean?"

  Liam took a step back to let me through. I shut the door and locked it, pocketing the key. "Most humans turn and run when they find out there's something else besides them out there," he said quietly, curiously. "But you just stand there and call me 'buddy'."

  I didn't know what to say, so I reached behind me and touched the Firestar. The metal was cold against my skin.

  Liam sensed my unease. It made him smile. "Let's go, sunshine. Don't want to be late."

  I grimaced, but followed him down the three flights of stairs, my boots clacking on the marble. He was much faster than me, and he held the door open. I walked down the cement steps, and stopped when my feet met the sidewalk to wait for him. Of course, he arrived there before me anyway. Damn vampire speed.

  The night air was chilly, the wind touching my exposed skin like a wet blanket. I pulled the leather jacket tighter around me, and looked up at Liam's tall, slender form. The moonlight fell over him in patches, dispersed by the willow tree across the street. He was facing me, looking unbothered by the cold fall breeze.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. "Nice jacket," he said apprehensively.

  I slid my hands into the depths of its pockets. It was large on me, but it was meant to look cropped on a man, so it fit nicely. The black leather was soft to the touch, and there were nifty little zippers near the collarbone. If it hadn't been so stylish, I would have called it a motorcycle jacket. "Yeah," I said to Liam. "It's—"

  "Mr. Knightley's," Liam finished.

  I squinted to distinguish his expression. "How did you know?"

  "I can smell him all over you," he answered, disdainful.

  "You can smell—"

  "Yes," he turned away from me, and muttered under his breath, "What is he thinking?"

  Liam crossed the street. I trailed after him. He stopped at a shiny black BMW, unlocked it, and opened the driver's door. My lips parted in awe as I stood at its side. Liam smirked, and said, "Get in. And don't get dirt on the carpet."

  I pulled the door open, and slithered in on the leather seats. Liam was already situated, and he turned the key in the ignition. The BMW revved quietly. It was as sleek on the inside as it was on the outside, with a polished dashboard and gleaming steering wheel. It even had that new car smell.

  "Keep your hands to yourself," Liam said. "This is my car."

  I clasped my hands in my lap, and said appreciatively, "It's nice."

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him smile. He put the car in drive, and the car glided forward. His pale hands caressed the steering wheel as he turned it. I rolled my eyes. Men and their cars.

  "I've heard you've been getting yourself into trouble," Liam said, amused.

  I frowned. "Well, it wasn't my fault."

  Liam laughed. "Of course not."

  Anger rising, I said loudly, "I didn't ask to be attacked in some crappy motel's parking lot, okay?"

  His amusement didn't fade, even though his laugher had. "Calm down."

  I nestled deeper into the seat and looked out the passenger window. San Francisco went by in flashes of lights and blurs of buildings. I was all too aware of Liam's presence. He had danger and otherworldly things rolling off him in waves, making me more than uneasy.

  Liam grunted. "I don't get it."

  "Get what?" I asked, turning to him. His face was illuminated with the lights from the dash, green and orange mixing with his ivory skin.

  "Why Mr. Knightley is risking everything for you."

  "What do you mean?" I asked, puzzled.

  Liam glanced sideways at me. "The protection, the blood, the jacket—"

  I huffed. "What is the big deal about the ja
cket?"

  "It makes you smell like him, even over that flowery scent of yours. Which is delicious, I might add," he grinned at me, tongue running over his sharp teeth.

  My eyes narrowed. I ignored that last part. "So what if it makes me smell like him?"

  He sighed impatiently. "We use smell to mark our territory."

  "Like dogs?" I said helpfully.

  Liam threw me a sharp look. "When we transfer our smell to someone, it means they belong to us. They are ours. Our responsibility, our property, ours."

  "So," I said slowly. "So, I belong to Callum now?"

  Liam made a resentful sound. "Yes."

  "But he didn't even tell me! I'm a vampire's property, and I didn't even know it," I said heatedly. I had a right to be angry. I was owned. I was marked. I hadn't even known it.

  Liam said harshly, "It's a gift, especially from Mr. Knightley. As long as I've known him, he's never pledged to protect someone."

  "What?" I had tuned out of my thoughts to listen.

  Liam chuckled. "Don't let it give you a false sense of security, though. With a scent like yours, I'm sure someone will break the rules."

  "A scent like mine?"

  He flicked on the turn signal as we waited in a line of traffic. "You smell extremely appealing. Like a flower. Guess it's part of the deception."

  I gave him a questioning look. He sighed and looked out of his window. "You're the 'deadly flower'. It's just fitting that you smell like one."

  The traffic light flicked to green, and the cars ahead of us began to move. Liam turned right, heading towards the highway turnoff.

  "There is just so much I don't understand," I said quietly.

  Liam looked sideways at me again. "I know," he said.

  I wanted to slap myself for sounding shaky as I spoke. "Can you tell me more about vampires? Like the basics?"

  He deliberated internally, and then nodded. "Let me see. We're dead. We can't go in sunlight. We have remarkable hearing, eyesight, smell, speed," he ticked them off on his fingers, "We aren't allergic to garlic, but it's considered bad manners if you eat it in front of us."

  "Do you sleep in coffins?" I asked.

  He snickered. "Some of us do. We don't need to sleep, but it passes the time."

  "How much time?"

  "Eternity."

  I gulped, and turned the subject around. "What about holy items?"

  Liam turned onto the highway, and licked his lips. "I can't believe I'm telling this to our proclaimed enemy."

  "I'll find out anyway," I reasoned.

  He thought about that, and said, "Crosses and Holy Water burn our skin permanently."

  "What about bullets?" I thought about the gun that was pressing into my back.

  "Oh, yeah. I forgot to tell you," he smirked. "We also don't die easily."

  After a pause, I asked, "My life's going to be different from now on, isn't it?"

  I met his eyes. What I saw in them scared me more than when he had threatened to kill me. It was pity.

  Chapter 10

  * * *

  Mr. Knightley's house wasn't a house. It was a mansion. The main doors opened up into a majestic room, with high, vaulted ceilings and windows stretched thirty feet high. Purple velvet drapes hung from enormous brass rungs, keeping all light out. The room was lit by a massive crystal chandelier, aided by lamps clamped to the walls. There was a staircase that wound upwards on the left. Each step was covered with soft, mauve material.

  I was standing in the middle of the room, trying my best to take it all in. Liam had left me there to go off in search of Callum, or that's what he told me. I had a feeling I was making him edgy with my questions. It had been a twenty minute drive, and I took advantage of being forced to ride with a vampire. I had discovered a couple new things about his kind, like their sensitivity to silver and their dislike of knock-knock jokes. I thought that last one was Liam's personal problem, but I wasn't going to test it.

  I felt that odd sensation you get when someone is watching you, but you don't know who or where. I whipped around, eyes darting everywhere. Maybe I was just being silly, but I was in a vampire's house. My eyes found a shadow lurking at the top of the grand staircase, and I froze in my place. A figure emerged from the darkness, and stepped on the first step. I saw it was a woman, dressed in a knee-length, burgundy dress with three-inch heels on her feet. She had ebony hair, like my own, that fell in loose curls around her shoulders. Her face was a heart-shape with rosebud lips and a button nose.

  With one hand on the sweeping wood banister, the woman descended one step at a time. I noticed long legs under the dress and a small waist. Her eyes watched me carefully as she came down, a rich hazel. She stopped at the bottom of the staircase, and looked at me curiously.

  I sensed something deep down inside me. It was an intrinsic feeling that I had never experienced before, but it seemed familiar. I just knew. I just knew this what this woman was, what she was capable of.

  "You're a vampire," I said.

  She laughed pleasantly. It was a rich, throaty sound that made the hair on my arms stand up. She took a step towards me, and despite being at least fifteen feet away, stood right in front of me in half a second. "Yes, I am."

  I felt immensely underdressed next to her elaborate clothing. The dark blue jeans, washed-out red American Eagle t-shirt, leather jacket, and knee-high boots I wore looked so casual compared to her satiny dress. The vampire looked me up and down, evaluating.

  "You smell like Mr. Knightley and a fresh bouquet of flowers," she said in a nice, feminine voice. "How peculiar."

  What was with everyone telling me what I smelled like? I remember what Liam had said in the car, that vampires had sensitive smell, and felt better. I didn't want to give off smells, no matter how good, like an elderly woman in an elevator wearing too much Chanel #5.

  The vampire smiled, a curve of delicate lips, and said, "I'm Ophelia."

  I nodded, and replied, "Dahlia."

  Ophelia was taken aback. "Dahlia?" she asked.

  "Yes," I confirmed warily.

  "Dahlia. Dahlia." She rolled my name in her mouth like tasting a fine wine. "Our little deadly flower?"

  "The one and only," I said.

  Ophelia smiled, and stretched out her hand to take mine. Hers was small, but her grip was strong. "Come with me, my Dahlia."

  If I felt any misgivings about following a vampire down the length of a dim corridor, I didn't say anything about it. Ophelia pulled me into a room on the right. It was furnished with couches, armchairs, and chairs of all shapes and sizes. There were no windows, despite its vast amount of space. It looked like a common room for a group of about ten or fifteen.

  When we walked in, four faces looked up at us. Two were vampires. I could just tell with that sixth sense. The other two were humans. I could tell from their tanned skin and the fact that I didn't feel any threat coming off them. One was a plump girl in her mid-twenties, with dirty blonde hair and cherry red lipstick. A buff man sat across from her on a wicker chair. He had pale green eyes and a long face.

  Ophelia tugged my hand and I stumbled farther into the room. She kept a hold on my hand, and put her own free one on my shoulder. The human man stood, and I saw he was wearing an artfully ripped shirt that I could only call sleazy. She said, "This is Michel."

  The man didn't smile or nod. He just stared at me. I looked away from him, and turned my attention to the human woman who had sidled up to me. She parted her red lips and said, "I'm Anna."

  I acknowledged her with a bob of my head. A female vampire glided up from a leather armchair. She put a hand on Anna's shoulder and looked down at me with piercing brown eyes. Her skin was a beautiful honey-brown colour, matched with short, curly brown hair.

  Ophelia introduced us. "This is Chantal."

  Chantal's tilted her head towards me. A second vampire stood up on my right, a gaunt male with a gangly form. He smiled crookedly, and said, "I'm Lester."

  Lester looked behind him, and beckon
ed with one long, thin arm to someone lying on a couch. I saw shiny leather boots hanging off the edge of the sofa, which was turned backwards so I couldn't see the face of who was in it.

  "Raven," he said sharply.

  The boots disappeared from the edge and clunked on the ground. A girl stood. She couldn't have been more than sixteen when she had died. She brushed her straight black hair behind her, and she flicked her eyes to Lester with annoyance. "What?" she snapped.

  Lester nodded towards me, and she turned her head to look at me. She harrumphed, and said, "Who're you?"

  Ophelia let my hand go, and announced to the entire room, "This is Dahlia."

  Lester and Chantal tensed, and the Michel, the human, shifted. Raven raised her dark eyebrows, not affected in the least. Ophelia pushed me in the direction of a plush, forest green couch, and sat next to me with a smile on her face. Anna and Michel settled themselves on the couch across from us. Chantal and Lester remained standing, staring at me. Raven threw herself into an armchair that was to my right with ease, and put her hands behind her head.

  Anna smiled, sickly sweet. "Are you joining the party tonight?"

  "Party?" I questioned.

  Ophelia leaned over and patted Anna's knee. "No, silly girl. This is Dahlia Simon."

  Anna pouted. "Who?"

  Chantal came around to sit on the edge of her couch. "The Flora, Anna."

  Anna's watery blue eyes widened as she understood. "Oh."

  Michel spoke for the first time. "What are you doing here?" he asked with a slight French accent.

  "Liam said Callum wanted to see me," I replied.

  Every single person in the room, both living and dead, looked surprised, and a bit resentful. I wondered what I had said.

  "Callum?" Anna repeated. Her face flushed an unattractive pink colour.

  "Yes. What'd I say?" I looked around the room.

  Michel said in a low voice, "You don't call him by his first name unless he permits you to."

  I fiddled with the material of the couch. "He told me to call him Callum."