Death of Night

by Krissy Reynolds

  Lilynn drew a breath and let it out slowly before beginning. "First, I want you to tell no one about this meeting. I trust you won't violate the client confidentiality agreement?" I tilted my head in acquiescence. "Good. Now, I'm going to pay you a very large sum of money to do as I ask, Dahlia. I don't care what you do with it. You can give it to Montgomery Investigations, or you can keep it all to yourself. Either way, it doesn't matter."

  I propped an elbow on my desk and rested my chin in my hand. Gazing at her thoughtfully, I was beginning to think she was right. I wasn't going to like this.

  "I want you to stay away from Damien. It—" she continued, unable to finish because I cut her off.

  "What?"

  "Don't go near Damien—"

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Listen to me, Dahlia," Lilynn huffed. She folded her hands calmly on the desk, eyes fixed intently on my face. I fell silent, muscles unmoving, frozen in place. "I'm going to pay you twenty thousand dollars just to stay away from Damien. Think about this."

  "Damien?" I asked disbelievingly, ignoring the ridiculously large amount of money she was offering me. "Damien?"

  "Yes."

  Memories of the motel parking lot flashed before my eyes. I saw Damien advancing on me, I felt his lips moving up my throat, I smelled my blood on his breath. "Do you know what he is? What he's done?"

  "I do."

  I frowned at her. "Why do you want me to stay away from him?"

  Lilynn said bitterly, "You don't need to know that."

  "Maybe not," I agreed, but added, "But I want to know."

  Sending me a cold and calculating look before answering, Lilynn didn't look so friendly now. The congenial smile had disappeared under a layer of icy dislike. "I don't want Damien to turn you."

  "Okay…" I said, more than confused. "Why not?"

  She let out a strangled sound. Her cheeks flushed an unattractive dark red, contrasting sharply with the pastel pink of her shirt. "Because I want to be the one standing by his side, not you."

  I held up my hands. "Hey, I don't want to stand by his side," I said. "The position's all yours."

  A dangerous expression crossed her face. "Yes, well, the decision's not up to you."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Damien is infatuated with you. After he tasted your blood…" she trailed off, staring at a spot on the floor. She then muttered incoherently, "I could have prevented it. I almost did. I almost had it."

  I swallowed uncomfortably. My fingers fiddled with the scarf. Lilynn was still talking under her breath. It looked like she was trying to burn a hole in the floor with her eyes.

  "Look," I said, "I'll try my best to stay away from Damien. I don't particularly want to see him, but if he comes after me, there isn't much I can do."

  Lilynn raised her chin and stopped muttering. Her face was impassive now. The range of emotions this woman had frightened me. "You better try your hardest," she said, deadpan. "I'll resort to a different method if you don't."

  I gritted my teeth. "Are you threatening me?" I asked.

  "I am."

  I stood up abruptly, sending my chair rolling behind me. I pointed a finger at the door, and said, "Get out, Ms. Blaise. I don't want your money, and I definitely don't want your threats."

  "You're going to give up twenty thousand dollars?" she asked. She was trying to appeal to my greedy side.

  I arched my eyebrows. "Out."

  She uncrossed her legs and got up in one swift movement. I noticed she was toothpick-thin, ribs defined under the shirt she was wearing. My eyes found her neck. It was covered in white scars. Multiple teeth marks had torn into the flesh. "You're making a mistake, Dahlia. You don't know what I'm capable of," she warned. "You don't know what I'm willing to do."

  "I've already told you I'll try my best to avoid Damien. But I can't make any promises. Like you said, the decision's not up to me. So, I'm sorry, but I can't help you."

  Lilynn tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear. She smiled. This one did not warm my heart, but chilled it. A few minutes ago, she had been warm, nonthreatening. Now she was sending threats in waves.

  "You'll come around soon enough, Ms. Simon," she said, and walked out.

  What was that supposed to mean? I stood there with my mouth gaping open slightly, trying to absorb what had just happened. Lilynn had offered me money to stay away from Damien. I didn't need money for that. I would gladly stay out of his way. But if he happened to jump me in another parking lot, I didn't think I'd stand much of a chance.

  I sighed. I'd deal with that problem if, or when, it came up. No use worrying about it.

  I walked out of my office, following in Lilynn's footsteps. I came to a halt at Alexander's office, and poked my head inside.

  "We're on for tonight."

  Alexander looked up from his paperwork and grinned. "Can't wait, Wonder Woman."

  * * *

  The smoke from Alexander's cigarette curled through the night. The end glowed bright orange as he sucked in another drag.

  "That habit's gonna kill you one day," I told him.

  He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth. "You sound like my mother, Simon."

  We were standing across the street from a bar. The flashing neon sign read, "Six Six Six" with a picture of a devil.

  "Is the name a sign as to what it's in store for us?" I asked bleakly.

  Alexander just laughed and took another drag. It was almost nine o'clock, and the sky was pitch black. The bar was our destination, but Alexander had insisted he needed a smoke before he could go in. I was leaning against the window of an abandoned building, chewing gum that had become tasteless thirty minutes ago. I was beginning to resent my offer to accompany Alexander as backup. I could be doing something so much more productive than this.

  "Tell me what we're doing again," I said, toying with the charm bracelet on my right wrist. The fact that it was made of silver hadn't escaped my notice.

  "You're not doing anything," Alexander said. "I'm going in to wheedle some info out of a guy I know."

  "What am I here for, then?"

  "To watch my back. But unless something happens to me, I want you to sit there looking pretty."

  "I don't like looking pretty," I complained.

  Alexander flicked his cigarette away. I watched it roll into the night, the butt still smoldering. "Sure you do," he said, putting an arm around my shoulders. "You just sit back, relax, and have a good time. I'll do the dirty work."

  I pulled his arm off of me. "Fine. But if something goes wrong, I'll be there."

  His teeth flashed white through the gloom. "Aw, I didn't think you cared."

  "Do you want me to just sit there, sipping a martini, relaxing if you get beat up? Because I'd be more than happy to watch someone kick your ass. Maybe it'd knock some sense into you—"

  "Okay, okay," Alexander laughed, grabbing my arm and dragging me across the street. "I get it. You'll help me out if I need it."

  He let go of my arm to open the door. There was a sign hanging on it that said, "Six Six Six's Six Drinks for One Deal." Try saying that three times fast.

  A bombardment of stale cigarettes and alcohol met our noses as we walked in. To the right sat the bar, bottles upon bottles lined up behind the bartender. Dimness and smoke partially clouded the view of the customers. The hustle and bustle of the people was loud and boisterous, their rowdy laughter and drawling conversations muddled together. The air was warm and thick, and it felt like it would stick to your skin.

  Alexander led me to an empty stool at the bar. I hopped up, slapped my hand on the bar, and grinned at the bartender. "Dry martini, please."

  He nodded, shaking his head and smiling at my overly enthusiastic manner. I swiveled the stool to face Alexander. He, too, was smiling. I shrugged. "What? That's what they do in the movies," I said indignantly. I had to raise my voice to talk over the noise of the people.

  Leaning close to me, Alexander said, "I'll be in the back of the room. See t
he big guy sitting in the booth?" My eyes searched through the tables and booths, and finally landed on a man with a shaved head and tattoos running down the length of his arms.

  "Yeah, I see him."

  "I'll shout if I need help," he said, pulling back.

  I nodded, looking into his deep brown eyes. He seemed confident he wouldn't need my help. I hoped he didn't, but had the Firestar tucked a holster under the gray coat I was wearing just in case. I had had time to go home and change into something a bit more comfortable. I had chosen a white, scoop neck t-shirt and a pair of washed-out black jeans. I added my steel gray coat to the outfit because it was chilly out. It was also useful for hiding the gun.

  Alexander trotted off toward the man in the booth, and I turned back to the bar. The bartender had placed the martini in front of me while I had been talking to Alexander. I dragged it toward me and took a sip. The alcohol burned pleasantly as it slid down my throat.

  Someone slipped onto the stool next to me. I shifted to give them more room, not really paying attention, until they spoke.

  "Fancy meeting you here, Ms. Simon," they drawled in an awfully familiar voice.

  I slowly turned my head to look at them. It was truly the last person I wanted to see.

  Damien was sitting there, his dark eyes scanning my face. A wicked smile was playing on those full lips. The lights in the bar were brighter than the security lights in the Sea Shell Motel, and I noticed for the first time that Damien had an olive complexion. It suited him well, with his naturally black eyes and gleaming white teeth. His russet hair was pulled into a ponytail at the back of his head, the tail long enough to brush the collar of his motorcycle jacket.

  I looked away and squeezed my eyes shut. Lilynn Blaise's words echoed in my head. I picked up my drink and glanced back at him. "Yeah, how about that?" I said as calmly as I could. "You come here often?"

  Damien's expression didn't change a bit as he replied, "Sometimes."

  Taking another sip of the martini, I raised my eyebrows at him over the glass. "I bet you enjoy the selection of drinks they have here."

  His eyes swept down briefly to my neck. His chilling smile widened slightly. "Some nights are better than others," he said.

  I set the glass down, hands shaking slightly, and glanced surreptitiously around the room. I didn't recognize anyone besides Alexander. That was both comforting and terrifying. It meant that Damien hadn't brought any of his flunkies. It also meant that no one could come and help me. I looked at Damien, sitting there, all cool and collected, staring at my exposed neck. "Stop checking my neck out," I snapped.

  Those black eyes moved up to my face. "Forgive me," he purred. "I was just remembering the taste of your blood on my tongue. So delicious, so sweet—"

  "Shut up," I hissed. I slid off the stool, preparing to leave, when his hand on my arm stopped me.

  "Stay, Ms. Simon," he commanded.

  "No," I responded, "You stay. I'll go. Pay for my drink, will you?"

  Damien laughed gently, the sound caressing my senses. His hand steered me back to the stool. I sat back down unwillingly, and he let my arm go. Licking his lips, he stared at me.

  I fiddled with the napkin underneath the martini glass. "What do you want, Damien?" I asked tiredly.

  "I just want to enjoy this lovely atmosphere." He waved a hand, indicating the smoky bar.

  "That's not true and you know it," I said.

  Damien smiled, revealing a flash of fang. "Perhaps," he said vaguely.

  "What are you here for?"

  "I'm here to make you an offer, Ms. Simon."

  "An offer, or a demand?"

  "It depends. It is what you make it to be."

  "Cut the crap," I said, twisting the stool to face him straight on. I met his eyes, trying to decipher the expression behind them. "Just tell me whatever the hell it is you want to tell me."

  Amusement twinkled behind his eyes. He said, "Very well," but didn't say another word for a whole minute.

  I looked at him expectantly. "I suggest you get on with it."

  "I'm going to give you a choice," he began, eyebrows raised to emphasize his point. "After tasting your blood, I realized you belong with me. I haven't found blood like yours in centuries. When my mate, Masata, was killed, I traveled the world to find someone like her. Tasting everyone and anyone to see if they could replace—"

  "I bet you did."

  Anger flashed across his hauntingly beautiful face, disappearing in a matter of moments into indifference. "If you do not wish to hear my story, then that is fine. My offer is simple: join me or suffer the consequences."

  I frowned at him. "How is that an offer?"

  "I'm letting you choose between eternal life and eternal death."

  I stood up. "No."

  I was halfway to the door, pushing my way through the crowd of people, before Damien came up behind me. I stood there, frozen, the people moving around us like we were merely an obstacle. Pressing his cheek against my hair, he said in a voice so low only I could hear, "Let me make you one of us, Dahlia." The way he said my name was intimate, a passionate whisper. "I could show you things you've never even dreamed of." His breath tickled the sensitive spot just beneath my ear, and I shivered.

  I replied hoarsely, "If I did want someone to bite me, it wouldn't be you."

  A growl escaped his mouth, and he shoved me away from him. We were still within touching distance, though, with his muscular shoulders blocking my view of the rest of the bar and his fangs at eyelevel. He stared down at me, and I stared right back.

  "You would choose death over me?" Damien asked slowly.

  I didn't have to think about it. "Yes."

  "I'll have to persuade you otherwise. I do not wish to kill you, Ms. Simon. But I will hurt you. And I will hurt the people you love." He stretched a hand out, nearly touching me.

  "Uh-un," I warned, my own hand vanishing behind my coat, resting on the butt of the Firestar. "I'm not helpless this time, Damien."

  Damien's eyes raked over the gun. He smirked. "A gun?"

  "That's not all," I said. "Have you seen Thanatos lately?"

  That wiped the smirk off his face. Good.

  "I did not come here for you to make this hard for me," he hissed. "You have one day to make your decision. I suggest you choose wisely."

  He turned and walked out the door. I stared after him, my breath coming and going heavily. My hand was still touching the Firestar. It took me a minute to come to my senses and walk back to the stool. My martini glass was sitting there, half-empty. I didn't feel much like finishing it, so I just slid onto the stool and stared at it in thought.

  One day. I had one day to figure out what to do. I could either go to Damien without a fight, or wait it out. I was worried that if I did nothing, Damien would retaliate by doing something awful. He had said he would hurt me, and, more importantly, the people I cared about. Choices, choices. Neither of my choices seemed too appealing.

  Someone grabbed me, yanking me off the stool. I whipped around to find an excited Alexander. Behind him, I saw the bald man stalking his way toward us, his expression murderous. Alexander looked over his shoulder, and then back at me. His face split into a wide grin. "Uh-oh. Looks like the shit's hit the fan."

  Great, just what I needed.

  Chapter 14

  * * *

  "What the hell did you do, Alexander?" I growled angrily as I pushed a person to the side. The drink in their hand sloshed over onto the floor.

  Alexander and I made a speedy exit out of the Six Six Six bar. I glanced behind us as the door was closing. The man was following in our wake, shoving customers out of the way. He didn't look too happy. Only Alexander had the ability to piss someone off that bad in such a short amount of time.

  "I didn't mean to make him mad," Alexander replied, looking at me with puppy eyes.

  "Yeah, right."

  We crossed the street quickly, nearly breaking into a run. The dark sky loomed above us, covering the street in sh
adows. The only source of light was a flickering streetlamp and the neon glare of the bar's sign. It made it hard to see, but both Alexander and I knew where we were headed; to his car. We had parked it on the street adjacent to this one and walked to the bar.

  There were footsteps coming from behind us. They were loud and obvious, like the person wanted us to know they were coming. I didn't have to look back to know who it was. I grabbed Alexander's arm and broke into a run.

  "Who is this guy?" I asked, breathless.

  Alexander hesitated before answering, "Uh, just the guy who the client suspects is involved in his wife's, er, murder."

  My grip tightened on his arm. "What?" I hissed. "We've got a murderer chasing us?"

  "I didn't say he was a murderer," Alexander retorted. "I said he's a suspected murderer."

  "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

  As we headed down the street, I reached for the Firestar. I drew it out of the holster, keeping it pointed at the ground, but ready to use, nonetheless. I was hoping we could get to the car before I had to shoot anyone. If Alexander kept pissing me off, I might end up shooting him. But I would probably regret it afterwards. Probably.

  "What did you do?" I asked again.

  Alexander didn't respond. I turned my head to look at him, but he wasn't there. He had been at my side only a moment ago.

  I whirled around, gun aimed at the darkness. Alexander was shoved up against a stone wall, feet dangling an inch off the ground. Two heavily tattooed arms held him up by the neck. Even in the dark, I could see Alexander's face turn red from the lack of oxygen. I aimed the gun at the back of the shining bald head.

  "Drop him," I commanded coolly.

  The man's eyes turned to me in amusement. They quickly dropped to my hands, which held the Firestar in a teacup grip. I thought the gun would catch his attention.

  "Go home, little lady," he said. "This ain't no place for you."

  I hated being called condescending names. I normally would have replied with a comeback, but Alexander wasn't doing to well. He was making desperate attempts to get air into his lungs, but the big guy's hands were squeezing too tightly. "Drop him, or I'll shoot you."