Death of Night

by Krissy Reynolds

  I started. "Sister?"

  Callum nodded, and began walking towards a door to the right of the extravagant staircase. I followed him, eagerly awaiting an answer. We passed through the door. Darkness waited on the other side. I blinked, trying to adjust to it. I couldn't see Callum in front of me.

  The sound of an engine starting filled the room. Two lights flashed on, shining two beams of light on the wall beside me. The car had steadied into a low rumbling, waiting to go. Inside, sitting on the driver's side, was Callum. I walked to the passenger's side, hand resting on the handle while I examined the car. In the weak light of the headlights, I couldn't make out the distinct colour or brand. It might have been a shabby blue Ford, or a shiny red Lexus. For some reason, I was betting on the latter.

  Opening the door, I slid onto the seat. As I swung my feet in, they got tangled in something. I looked at the floor of the car. It was strewn with newspapers, magazines, manila file folders, and a pair of loafers. My left foot was wrapped around a green sweatshirt stained with crimson spots. Those red spots looked strangely akin to blood splatters.

  "Liam's other car," Callum said dryly.

  I yanked my foot away from the dirty sweater. "I figured."

  Callum maneuvered the car out of the garage like he'd done it a million times before. We slipped out of the mansion's heavy steel gates, and glided onto the main road. The road was smooth, calm, devoid of the traffic that was always bustling during the daylight hours. A couple of cars passed us in the span of five minutes. Everyone else was in bed.

  I turned my head to look at Callum. I needed some form of conversation to keep me from falling asleep. "So, is that all you're gonna tell me about Raven and Rhiannon?" I asked.

  He glanced sideways at me. "What else do you want to know?" he said. "Rhiannon is Raven's older sister. They became vampires at the same time, sired by the same person. Rhiannon went and joined up with Damien and his group while Raven stayed with me. They—"

  "Wait," I interrupted. "Are you saying Rhiannon was staying with you before she went with Damien?"

  "Yes," Callum said bitterly. "But she despised the lack of freedom. She wanted Raven to leave with her, but Raven disagreed and they fought. They haven't spoken since, as far as I know."

  The neon lights of a gas station flew past my window. I rested my head on the headrest, gazing out of the grimy window at the passing world. I couldn't think of anything to say, so I didn't.

  As we entered the city limits, I remembered the message on the machine from the police. Liam had said Callum had taken care of it, but I didn't know what that meant. "What happened with the police?" I asked, looking over at Callum.

  His eyes were distant, not really seeing the road in front of him or the feel of the steering wheel in his hands. I was in the midst of wondering where his mind was when he answered, "I told them you were mugged and the guy ran off before I could catch him. They bought it."

  "That's it?" I asked incredulously.

  He smiled absently. "The police will dismiss the case. They can't really go after a mugger. That's what you wanted, right?"

  I shrugged. Was it? I guess so. I could just imagine that conversation with Detective Ackerman. "I was stabbed by hired assassins because I'm dangerous to vampires, Detective. Don't you believe me?" I would say innocently. He would then proceed to take my arm, and say, "Sure, Ms. Simon, I believe you. Now, let's take a nice little trip to the hospital." Off to the loony bin with you, Ms. Simon.

  No, telling the police the truth would only make things worse. And worse isn't exactly what I wanted.

  The car halted to a smooth stop. I jerked my eyes open. I hadn't even realized I'd closed them.

  Callum let out a long sigh as he took the keys out of the ignition. The lights in the car dimmed, going out completely within a few seconds. I stared out blankly into the blackness of the night outside the window. A single streetlight stood twenty feet away from us, illuminating the front of my apartment building weakly.

  "I apologize about tonight," Callum said into the hush of the night.

  I waved a dismissing hand, but realized he couldn't see it in the dark. On second thought, his night vision seemed to be pretty good. "It's okay," I said. "It wasn't your fault."

  "Oh, how I'd like to believe that," he muttered sourly.

  "It wasn't your fault," I repeated sternly.

  He opened his door and stepped out. He slammed the door shut, the sound startling me. I gave an exasperated sigh, fumbling to undo my seatbelt. I didn't have time for moody vampires.

  My hand was on the handle when the door opened. Callum stood to the side to give me room to get out. I clambered out of the car with some difficulty. I ached all over. Once I had shut the door, I leaned heavily on the car and stared up at the apartment complex. All the apartments' lights were out, except for one. Will's.

  "Damn it, Will," I cursed under my breath. I hoped he wasn't up waiting for me. I sure as hell didn't feel up to arguing with him.

  "What is it?" Callum asked. He looked up at the small light that shone out of Will's apartment window. "Ah. I see."

  "Yeah," I said as I let out a breath.

  "The possessive human," he stated.

  "Not possessive," I wrote off quickly, "Protective."

  He looked at me, his eyes shining through the dark. Even through the obscurity of the night, I could see the skepticism. "He cares about you a great deal more than you think."

  "Will?" I laughed, surprised. "We're just friends."

  "Yes, but he wishes to be more than friends," Callum said.

  I shrugged off the car. "How do you know?" I asked roughly.

  He gave a humourless laugh, and said, "It's quite obvious."

  I put my hands in the leather jacket's pockets and stood there uncomfortably. The air was cool blowing across my face. I squinted at Callum. He wasn't wearing a jacket, just a long-sleeved shirt. "Aren't you cold?" I asked, partly because I was curious and partly because I wanted to get away from the subject of Will. "Do you want your jacket back?"

  Callum's soft laughter was genuine. "No," he said. "I don't get cold. And the jacket looks much better on you, anyway."

  A red-hot blush spread across my face. I was glad the night hid the blush from Callum. I was flattered at the compliment, but I had no idea why I was so flustered. It was like junior high all over again.

  "Are you blushing?" Callum said, voice teasing. How the hell did he know?

  "No."

  I felt his fingers touch my cheek lightly. I pulled away involuntarily at his cool touch. "Liar," he said lightly, taking a step towards me.

  My back hit the car as he came closer. My heartbeat was fluttering in my chest. He was so close. His hand caught a strand of hair that had escaped from my ponytail and swept it behind my ear. The contact of his cold skin on my warm skin sent a shiver through me. His fingers trailed from my cheek to my mouth. They traced my lips gently. My breath caught in my throat, and I held perfectly still.

  "I should go," Callum breathed. It didn't sound like he believed it.

  I parted my lips under his fingers, and said quietly, "You don't want to come up?"

  "No, I do," he whispered back. "I want to more than I should."

  The streetlight flickered in the distance. Shadows played on Callum's face. I wanted to reach up and feel the softness of his skin. I balled my hands up into fists to restrain myself.

  Fingertips hovering just above my lips, Callum seemed to be trying to control himself as well. I raised my hands and took his in mine. I lowered them, but kept hold of them. "You can come up if you want. I don't mind staying up a bit longer," I murmured.

  He closed his eyes, and squeezed my hand. "You're not making this any easier," he mumbled.

  "What do you mean?"

  "I'm afraid of what I might do if I—" he sucked in a breath and finished, "If I come with you."

  My eyes widened, realizing what he meant. He hadn't fed tonight. "Feeling a bit peckish?"

  His deep,
rumbling laughter sounded. That simple sound made me want to smile. "I suppose you could say that," he said, "But there's another reason."

  "What?"

  One of his hands loosened from my hold. It reached up and held the side of my face. "I don't think I'll be able to stop touching you if I don't leave now."

  I closed my eyes. The wind blew against us, and I caught Callum's distinctive scent. It flooded my senses. I was finding it hard to concentrate.

  "I'll see you soon," Callum said after a few moments. He dropped his hand from my face reluctantly. The absence of his touch made me long for it again.

  I gripped the hand I was holding tighter. "Don't go," I whispered earnestly.

  Callum's face showed his unwillingness to leave. He bent slightly and pressed his cool lips against my cheek. "Goodnight, Dahlia."

  His hand slid out of mine, and he was gone.

  As I watched the car disappear down the street, I touched the spot where he had kissed me. I had goose bumps all over my body.

  That night, I went to sleep with the leather jacket clutched in my hands. With my face pressed into the soft material, I could smell Callum. I fell asleep with a smile.

  Chapter 13

  * * *

  There was a neon pink Post-it on my door the next morning. It read, "I'm sorry. Can we talk?—Will"

  I ripped it off the door, brought it into the kitchen, and wrote in big letters, "No." I marched over to Will's door and slapped it on. I stood there with my hands on my hips, debating whether or not I should act so immature. After a couple seconds of careful thought, I left for work, leaving the pink Post-it hanging on the door. I just didn't care.

  Before I opened the door to Montgomery and Co. Private Investigations, I adjusted the scarf I was wearing. I really didn't want to wear it. It wasn't terribly cold today, and the material itched a bit. But I needed it to cover the half-moon marks that were caked with dark blood. They looked worse than they were, and I didn't want to raise any unnecessary, and not to mention, unanswerable questions.

  Ellie was working the front desk. Fingers clacking away at the keyboard in front of her, she didn't even notice me come in.

  I called, "'Morning, Ellie," before I turned left down the hallway of offices. She looked up from the computer screen, and her professional expression disappeared. Her clear eyes widened, and she beckoned me over. I sighed, glancing down the hallway before I made my way to her. All the office doors were closed.

  "Where is everyone?" I asked when I reached the chest-high desk labeled "Reception".

  Ellie raised a hand and began ticking the names off her fingers. "Mr. Montgomery is meeting with the higher-ups downtown, Veronica's doing surveillance, and I think Alexander is still in his office."

  I snorted. "Pulling an overnighter again, is he?"

  Ellie grinned. She stood up and leaned on the desk with her elbows. "So," she said. I didn't like the prying tone in her voice. "What's been going on with you?"

  I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Nothing, really."

  "Yeah, and I'm the Queen of England," she said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes. "You expect me to believe that?"

  "Well, I was hoping you would," I answered pathetically.

  "Are you kidding? Ayden actually gave you a day off without making a fuss. And Veronica came back saying you guys were attacked—"

  "We just went after Fletcher, Ellie," I interrupted. "Then some people came and wanted to talk to me. As for Ayden and the day off, you'd have to ask him about that."

  Ellie stared at my face for a long time, making me uneasy. I swallowed convulsively, but kept my face passive, blank. She didn't seem to buy it, but thankfully let it go. "Okay, whatever you say," she said. "You'd tell me if you were in some sort of trouble, wouldn't you?"

  I smiled reassuringly. "Of course."

  I was such a liar.

  "Oh," Ellie said, reaching down and shuffling through some papers. She picked up a file and slid it over to me. "A client is scheduled for you today at eleven. They specifically asked for you. But they wouldn't tell me what kind of job it was."

  I took the folder, and said, "Okay, thanks."

  Ellie gestured to the folder. "There isn't much in there. They're really into client confidentiality, if you know what I mean."

  Tucking the file under my arm, I nodded. I waved goodbye to Ellie. She was sitting down again, staring at the computer monitor, fingers poised on the keyboard in a matter of seconds. I turned down the office hallway, and came to a stop in front of a door with a sign that said, "Alexander Gabaldon." I knocked twice. There was no answer, so I turned the handle and walked in.

  Alexander was asleep at his desk. His head was resting on his arms, and he looked as if he were very uncomfortable. Various stacks of paper surrounded him, creating a sort of wall between him and the rest of the world. The sight of him made me smile.

  "Time to wake up, Alexander," I said loudly, leaning against the door frame and crossing my arms.

  Alexander's head popped up and peeked out from behind the mass amounts of paper. His unruly brown hair stuck up in various places. His big, brown eyes drooped with unfinished sleep. Running a hand over his face, he glared at me. "Shit, Simon. Don't you know how to knock?"

  I grinned at him, and teasingly chided, "Watch your language."

  "What is it? 'Cause it better be good," he said, sitting up straight in his chair. "This is the first time I've slept in two days."

  I pouted at him. "Poor baby."

  He rubbed his eyes and sighed. "I'm gonna need coffee before I can deal with you," he said.

  Making my way to a chair, I sat with my feet propped up on his desk. Alexander gave me a dirty look, then stood up and went to a table with a coffee maker and various other supplies. While he was making coffee, I took the chance to look around the room. Disorganized is an understatement when it came to Alexander. The plaques on the wall were hanging crooked, and his trashcan was overflowing with bits of paper. I wondered how he could meet clients with an office like this. I turned my eyes to Alexander. His clothes were disheveled, and he wasn't wearing any shoes. Somehow I thought he didn't lose sleep over it.

  I'd known Alexander for about two years now. A private investigator by day, a lady-killer by night, that's what Veronica liked to say. Women seemed to have a dangerous attraction to his boyish charm and carefree looks. Even Veronica and Ellie had a hard time resisting those innocent brown eyes. Me? I did just fine.

  He sat back down in his chair. "Now, what is it?"

  "Just wanted to say hello," I said.

  Alexander's eyes narrowed menacingly. "You woke me up from a perfectly good sleep to say hello? You better be kidding."

  I smiled, and plopped my feet back on the ground. "I've got time to kill. And what's more fun than annoying you?"

  "Oh, I don't know. Working, maybe?"

  "I haven't really any work to do until eleven."

  Alexander scoffed, "Lucky."

  Looking at all the paperwork laying about on his desk, I felt a stab of sympathy. Nobody likes paperwork. "Anything I can do?" I asked.

  His brown eyes suddenly gleamed as he replied, "A back rub, maybe?"

  I crossed my arms over my stomach and threw him a stern look. "In your dreams, pervert."

  He winked at me.

  I rolled my eyes. "I'm serious," I said.

  "So am I."

  I stood up. "Forget it," I said, turning to walk toward the door.

  "Simon, wait," Alexander said.

  I swiveled on my heels to face him. He ran a hand through his hair. "I could, uh, use you as backup tonight," he said with some difficulty. Asking for help from a girl decreased his manliness.

  "Tonight?" I asked. "It depends on the client I'm about to meet. I'm not sure what they want."

  "Let me know?"

  I nodded. "Sure."

  Alexander looked relieved. His expression immediately turned playful, though. "I hate to ask a girl, but thanks."

  I walked ove
r to him, and slapped him on the back. He winced. "You may be surprised to know that women invented the signal flare, bulletproof vest, space suit, circular saw, and windshield wiper," I smiled. "You're welcome."

  * * *

  The phone rang, high and shrill. I didn't look away from the magazine in front of me as I reached for it.

  "Dahlia Simon," I answered absently.

  "Your eleven o'clock is here to see you," Ellie's voice came through the phone.

  "Send them in."

  I flicked the magazine shut, and shoved it into a drawer. I smoothed down my crimson blouse and glanced at the time on my computer monitor. It was 10:59. I watched it turn 11:00 as the door opened. The client was on-time, literally.

  At first sight, the woman wasn't impressive. She had copper-red hair that fell to her shoulders in a dull manner. Her eyes were colourless, the kind where they could be brown, or even blue, but you couldn't be sure. The peaches-and-cream complexion of her face was pretty, but average. She had thin lips that were glossed with a pale pink colour.

  It was when she walked to the chair in front of my desk that I realized there was more to her than the first impression. Those bland eyes sparkled with life, and each strand of her hair glimmered under the florescent lights. She smiled, and it warmed me straight to the heart. She may have not been physically striking, but she had a certain presence, standing there. I shook her hand, and she sat down in the chair. She crossed her legs at the knee. Under her straight-leg jeans, I saw running shoes. Sensible, too.

  "Nice to meet you, Ms. Blaise," I greeted. The file had only listed her last name. "I'm Dahlia."

  She smiled shyly, and said, "Please call me Lilynn."

  I smiled back politely and leaned back in my leather chair. "All right, Lilynn, what can I do for you?"

  Her stunning smile faltered a bit, but it remained in place. "I'm not going to lie to you. You're not going to like this. But I would like to you hear me out."

  The professional expression on my face dropped. Despite my misgivings, I nodded to acknowledge I would listen to what she had to say.