Death of Night

by Krissy Reynolds

"Gregory, the one in the guardhouse. He has gone off to Europe to tell Thanatos, though it is doubtful Thanatos does not already know."

  "Oh, that's just wonderful," I muttered, lying back down on my side.

  "Thanatos won't do anything. Not yet, not until he has found people to replace those he lost." He shifted so his face was on my level. "But I am afraid vampires are not the only ones after you right now."

  I frowned, trying to rub the sleep out of my eyes. "What do you mean?" I mumbled.

  "Lilynn Blaise."

  I made a sound. "Oh, yeah. Almost forgot about her."

  He sighed, shaking his head. His dark hair curled around the line of his jaw, and I remembered sliding my fingers through it. "She was threatening you before because Damien was infatuated with you. He had discarded her, and jealousy took over. But everything has changed now. Damien is dead." He paused. "We killed the man she loved."

  "You mean, I killed the man she loved," I corrected, feeling the dread fill my stomach.

  "It is not going to matter to her."

  "So, you're telling me that she's going to be looking for revenge?" I said.

  "Wouldn't you, if someone took the person you love most from you?"

  "Yes," I said without hesitation. "Yes, I would."

  "We are at a disadvantage with her, Dahlia," he said. "She is a human who knows all there is to know about vampires."

  I gazed at him from only a foot away. "Do you think she's going to try something?" I asked. I think I already knew the answer.

  Callum's hand came up between us and brushed my slightly sleep-mussed hair away from my face. "I wish the answer was no," he answered quietly.

  Gripping the covers under my chin, I said, "What do we do, then?"

  He rolled onto his back, hands behind his head, and closed his eyes. "Lilynn's not restricted by the daylight and can enter this apartment whenever she pleases. At least with Damien, we had a time frame and some expectations, but not with her. She is a loose cannon."

  "Do we even know where she is?" I snuggled into the bed, trying to savour the warmth. I had this feeling I wouldn't be savouring much warmth in the next few days.

  "No, we don't. The only reason we know she is here is because she came to your office."

  "Maybe she doesn't know about Damien yet," I said hopefully.

  He turned his head to look at me. Smiling, he asked, "Have you been asleep the entire day?"

  "Since about nine, yeah. What's that got to do with anything?"

  "The fire at Thanatos' place is all over the newspapers, all over the T.V. Lilynn knows, that is certain. Even if there were no bodies, she knows."

  "Why's it all over the news?" I groaned. "There are fires every day in this area."

  Callum flipped back over onto his side. "Because," he said, "the entire mansion burned down. Every piece of it. Except for one room in the basement."

  Now, I understood. "The room where I made it rain," I stated.

  "Exactly."

  "Since there wasn't even electricity in that place, they couldn't write it off as the sprinkler system, could they?"

  He smiled bitterly. "And the room was also a mess, glass and furniture thrown about, with mysterious piles of ash everywhere."

  "Must be a bit confusing for them," I said. "Do they suspect it was arson?"

  "The press keeps getting 'no comments' from the police, so no one knows a thing."

  I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. "The media must be having a field day with this."

  He didn't respond, and when I met his eyes, I realized he was staring at me. His eyes dipped from my face to my neck. He sent one long, pale hand out to touch the bandage where Damien's bite mark lay.

  "Sorry I couldn't stay with you at the hospital," he said. "I stayed as long as I could."

  I smiled, but it came out weak. It was always hard to concentrate when he was near. "I know."

  Sitting up and drawing his hand away from my neck, he said, "May I see it?"

  I sat up as well, the sheets sliding down to rest in my lap. I cupped a hand over the bandage. "What? The bite mark?"

  He nodded, took my hand from my neck, and set it on top of the covers. I didn't move, just watching him with widened eyes. He peeled the tape back slowly, exposing the wound to the air, little by little. A sharp hiss escaped his mouth when he saw Damien's love bite. Leaning in a bit, he touched his fingers to the stitches, cold against the heat of my skin.

  "What?" I questioned lightly, "Is it that bad?"

  Running a finger along the stitches, he rumbled, "Next time, you are taking my blood."

  I pulled back, making his hand drop. "I'm going to be fine, Callum," I said sternly. "I didn't need your blood."

  His expression twisted into something sad. "It is going to hurt for awhile, Dahlia. And it is going to scar."

  "If I had to choose between a few scars or my life, I'd choose my life."

  "A few scars?" he asked.

  I raised my arms up to flash the other bandages. One was wrapped around my wrist; Camille's doing, and the other on my forearm; Rhiannon's doing. One long, thin, bloody line ran down the other arm where Rhiannon's fingernail had scratched its way down.

  Callum's hand went to touch my arm, and he said, "A couple drops of my blood could heal these, this very second."

  Before his hand met my skin, I grabbed it and held it in both of my own. "I'm grateful for the offer, Callum. Really, I am. But I'd rather not. I don't care what people have told you, because your blood doesn't taste a bit like Kool-Aid."

  He curled his fingers around mine tightly. A small smile threatened at the corners of his mouth. "Well, then," he said, "Should I stop believing what people tell me?" There was a cadence in his question that told me his words had a double meaning.

  "What—?" I started, but never finished because I became painfully aware of what he meant. I quickly turned away from him, throwing my legs over the side of the bed. Wincing, I remembered saying "I love you, too," right before passing out. I stared at my plaid pajama bottoms and bit my lip.

  I felt Callum slither beside me, then saw his jean-clad legs appear next to mine. "Dahlia?" he said, sounding like he was suppressing laughter.

  Not looking at him, I replied, "Uh-huh?"

  "Something the matter?"

  I threw him a somewhat suspicious look. "You know perfectly well the answer to that question," I told him.

  He smiled, looking so damn perfect it irritated me. "I suppose I do."

  We stared at each other for a long time. I looked up into that face and didn't regret saying that I loved him. Telling him I loved him as I was bleeding and groggy wasn't my ideal way of confessing my true feelings, though. Now here he was, sitting on my bed, testing me.

  "What do you want me to say, Callum?" I said softly, almost a whisper.

  "Just tell me if you meant what you said," he said. His eyes were intense and the amusement had left his face, leaving a serious, but carefully blank expression.

  Words were hard to find. They were all scrambled in my head. "I, I'm—" I stuttered "—it's not—"

  "It is alright, Dahlia." He said gently, standing up from the bed, giving me his back. "Don't say it if you don't mean it."

  "No," I told him. Standing up, I grabbed his arm. The material of his navy blue shirt was cold under my hand. He turned his body towards me, but kept his eyes averted. "No, I meant it." I took a deep breath and squeezed his arm. "I meant it. God help me, I meant what I said."

  He met my eyes, relieved but unsure. "Why is it so hard to say?" he questioned.

  Letting my hand slide down his arm and drop to my side, it was my turn to look away. "I don't know. I guess I don't let myself go enough to—to love someone. I tend to pull away, shield myself, before my feelings run too deep. It's a defense mechanism I have. Sometimes I'm thankful for it, and sometimes it just makes me feel like I'm not human."

  Callum grinned unexpectedly. He put a hand on his heart. "And I am the one who conquered your heart?"r />
  Narrowing my eyes, I replied, "Only because you took me by surprise."

  Laughing, he touched my cheek. "I think it is the other way around," he said.

  "Yeah?"

  A genuine smile settled on his face. "Yeah."

  I had this desire to wrap my arms around him and never let go. I wanted to savour him the way I wanted to savour the warmth of my bed.

  The urge dissipated when the door to my bedroom flung open. I whipped around, pressing my back into Callum, staring at the doorway.

  Liam leaned against the doorframe, dark eyes sweeping around the room with casual curiosity. When his eyes found me, they went from bare feet to messy hair. Slowly, a grin spread wide across his face.

  "Did Little Miss Sleepyhead just wake up?" he cooed.

  Eyes wide, I asked, "What are you doing here?"

  "Been waiting outside the door, sunshine," he said, smoothing one side of his hair down. "Even I get bored."

  "How'd you get in? I've never invited you in."

  Callum was the one to answer. I could feel his voice rumble through his chest as I leaned against it. "Liam has a special gift for being able to enter without invitation."

  Liam raised his hands and wiggled his fingers. "Surprise."

  That explained how he entered Will's apartment when Will had been unconscious. It was odd to think Liam - annoying, bothersome Liam - had a unique ability. If I had to pin him with a gift, it wouldn't involve letting him roam around freely into people's houses.

  Giving me another up-down look, he said, "You don't look ready."

  I cocked an eyebrow. "Ready for what?"

  "Coming with us."

  "What—?"

  Callum placed his hands on my shoulders and turned me around to face him. "I thought it best if you would stay with us while Lilynn is—"

  "—out to get you," Liam ended for him.

  Throwing Liam a cold look over my shoulder, Callum finished, "—a threat."

  "When you say 'stay'," I said slowly, "you mean 'stay over'?"

  "Yes."

  I shook my head. "No," I said, "No, I don't want to impose."

  A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "Believe me, Dahlia, you wouldn't be imposing."

  "I'll stay with you 'til dawn, but then I'll leave," I said.

  "It would be better if you would just stay there," Callum reasoned, almost earnest.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Liam give me a small nod. "There are humans guarding the place during the day while the rest of us sleep," he informed me. "That crazy bitch couldn't even dream of getting in."

  By 'crazy bitch', I figured he meant Lilynn. I sighed, rubbing my eyes. "We'll see," I said. "No promises, though."

  "Good enough," Callum said. Reaching out, he drew me closer and kissed the side of my head.

  "So, go get ready," Liam said, putting a hand on either side of the doorframe and leaning forward. "And make it quick. I'm not feeling patient."

  Callum breathed a laugh. It blew against my skin softly, making me shiver. "We'll be in the living room," he said in my ear. "Take all the time you need."

  The two of them left the room, much to Liam's disappointment, and closed the door behind them. Throwing on the nearest shirt and pair of jeans, I was done dressing in a matter of moments. I padded to the bathroom that lay right across the narrow hall, quickly washed my face, ran a brush through my hair, then tied it back in a half-assed ponytail. I put on a touch of makeup. In the bright light, the bite mark on my neck looked nasty, exposed with my hair up. I'd most likely be hanging out with vampires so I didn't bother covering it up. I was pretty sure they could deal with the grisly sight.

  When I walked through the small foyer and into the living room, I found Liam lounging on my red velvet sofa, feet propped up, reading one of my magazines. Callum was standing by the French doors, looking out over the city.

  Peeking over the top of the magazine, Liam said, "That was fast."

  I went over and leaned on the arm of the couch. "Yep."

  Liam tilted his head all the way back to look at Callum. "Wish Ophelia took that long," he said forlornly.

  Turning around, Callum tore his gaze from the brilliance of the city lights and smiled at me. No one had turned on the lights over there, so half of his face was orange with the reflection of lights, and the other half was hidden in shadows. I smiled back at him. I didn't even know what I was smiling about.

  Liam sat up and smacked the magazine down on the coffee table. Glancing at him, I noticed a sour expression on his face as he looked back and forth between Callum and me.

  "What's the matter, Liam?" I asked with a small frown.

  "Nothing," he muttered sullenly.

  I raised my eyebrows, but let it go. "Okay."

  He stood, the movement so abrupt it startled me. "I came bearing gifts," he said.

  "You did?" I inquired, surprised, to say the least.

  Nodding, he reached behind him and pulled a gun from the waistband of his black leather pants. It was my Firestar. "After we killed the rest of Thanatos' people, I saw it under some broken furniture." He held it out to me. "Thought you might want it back."

  I took it. "Thanks," I said, inspecting it in the dim light. Looking back up at Liam, I grinned. "And you were wrong."

  Puzzled, he said, "About what?"

  "Bullets not being able to kill vampires."

  His eyes widened. The bitterness turned into interest in a matter of seconds. "You killed a vampire with that gun?" he asked, gesturing to the Firestar in my hands.

  "Yeah," I answered. I brushed my fingers over my heart. "I shot him in the heart and he exploded into ash."

  Liam's eyes flickered to the gun. "Huh," he said warily. "Bullets never did that before."

  Callum walked over to us, and said, "Technology must have improved since the mid-nineteen hundreds. That was the last time we saw a gun used on one of us, isn't it, Liam?"

  Liam thought about it, then replied, "Yeah. I think it was 1949 when Lester got shot up by that hoity-toity vampire slayer."

  "1949," I repeated faintly.

  Callum laughed softly, and came to lean on the edge of an armchair across from me. "It was not all that long ago, Dahlia," he said.

  "Easy for you to say," I replied, tracing my fingers along the sofa, watching the velvet turn dark red when I rubbed it a certain way.

  "Well, when you're going to be around when the sun blows up and turns into a black hole, then consumes the Earth into a vortex, it's hard to think a few decades is much, sunshine," Liam said.

  Callum and I exchanged looks, and then turned to stare at Liam.

  "What?" he said indignantly. "I read."

  I laughed, shaking my head. "I don't doubt that," I said.

  He glared at me, and replied heatedly, "Yes, you do."

  I just grinned. Liam harrumphed and moved away from us, going around the room. He looked at the pictures in the picture frames and studied several of the little trinkets I had lying around.

  "Tell me, Liam," I said, watching his movements. "Do you really think you're going to live long enough to see the sun blow up?"

  He glanced up from the photograph he was holding. "I'm immortal," he said, as if that answered everything.

  "But are you really?"

  Frowning, he asked, "What do you mean?"

  "I mean," I explained, "if I shoot you in the heart right now, you'll die."

  He looked at the gun, then up at my face. "Maybe," he said slowly.

  I set the gun down on the edge of the sofa. "Then how can you be immortal if you can die?" I folded my arms across my stomach. "I—I don't understand."

  Liam's face softened and he made his way back over to me. "I suppose we're not immortal in the true sense of the word," he said, looking over at Callum for confirmation, who gave a brief nod. "But we're close to it. We won't die, but we can die."

  "I don't—" I began bewilderedly, but Liam cut me off.

  "We're not like humans," he continued. "Dea
th is inevitable for you. But for us, it's just a possibility."

  "But—"

  "We may look like you, but we're not the same as you. We're not going to grow old and die. We can't catch a disease and die. We can't fall off a building and die." He stopped to give it some thought. "Well, depends on the height of the building."

  "That doesn't—"

  "And mixed with the fact that we're incredibly hard to kill, immortal is the closest explanation as to what we are."

  He made a move to continue speaking, but I held up a hand. "Okay, okay, I get it."

  Liam started to grin, and then it dropped completely off his face. Callum stood up and came to stand beside us. I looked back and forth, trying to determine what had put that deathly serious expression on their faces.

  "What is it?" I asked in hushed tones.

  Callum put a hand on my arm but said nothing. He glanced at Liam, then flicked his eyes around the room. Liam stared at the front door.

  My heartbeat sped up and I held my breath. The living room seemed to be larger now. There was so much more space to cover. I knew it was the fear talking, but that didn't stop the coil of dread from settling deep in my stomach.

  I watched as Callum and Liam transformed into the predators that they were. They became like stone, still and silent. Their eyes were the only things that moved, traveling from the French doors to the dark foyer. I did a 360 degree turn, but there was nothing to see or hear. I saw my gun lying on the couch and I snatched it up. I flicked it off safety, slipped my finger onto the trigger, and pointed it at the floor.

  "What's going on?" I asked again.

  "Something's wrong," Liam whispered.

  The lamp that sat on a small table behind us went out. The lights in the rest of the apartment clicked off as well. The phone beeped as it reset itself. We were submerged in darkness, the city lights outside the window our only source of light.

  My skin went cold. "Crap," I said softly.

  In the reflection of the outside lights, I saw Liam bare his razor-sharp teeth. Callum's eyes were no longer green, but a hazy shade of black.

  Liam met Callum's eyes. "Do you smell what I smell, master?" he asked in a low, serious voice.

  "Gasoline," Callum replied quietly.

  "And silver," Liam said.

  "And silver."