Gathering Darkness: A Paranormal Romance Collection

by Anna Zaires

  Without waiting a second longer, Mia touched the little device on her sleeve and was immediately transported back to Korum’s office. Waving her hand as she had seen Korum do, she nearly collapsed with relief when the action actually worked and the map winked out of existence. Quickly taking off the sweater, she hung it on the back of the chair, making sure that no stray hairs from her head remained anywhere on the fleecy fabric. Then she positioned the chairs back to how she remembered them being and ran out of the room. Last minute, she remembered the pillowcase and grabbed that too, dropping it back in the laundry pile on her way out of the apartment. Two minutes later, she had her purse and shoes and was getting into the elevator.

  She needed to contact John, right away.

  Pulling out her old-fashioned pocket cell phone, Mia shot an email to Jessie, writing ‘Hi’ in the subject line. In the body of the text, she mentioned that she would be home tonight and asked if Jessie wanted to have a girls’ night in. That should put John on alert, she thought, if he was indeed monitoring Jessie’s account. Now all she could do was hope and pray that she was not too late.

  Wanting to get home as quickly as possible, Mia hailed a cab. It was a wasteful extravagance, but if there was ever a good reason to hurry—this was it. Climbing in, she gave the driver her home address and leaned back against the seat, closing her eyes.

  Thoughts and ideas zoomed around her brain, jumping from one topic to another. How did Korum know where they were meeting? He had to have bugged the fighters’ house without their knowledge . . . But John had reassured her that he could tell if a room was bugged or not. Either John had lied to her or Korum was ten steps ahead of whatever knowledge John’s crew thought they possessed. That last part made sense to her. Humans could never hope to win against the K technology. If Korum wanted to watch the Resistance, he could obviously do so without their knowledge.

  The full danger of the game she was playing dawned on Mia. Depending on how long Korum had been spying on them, he could know all of their plans by now . . . and he could know about Mia’s involvement, limited though it had been up until today. At that thought, Mia’s stomach turned over and she felt a sickening cold spread down to her toes. She had never seen Korum truly angry, but she had no doubt it would not be a pleasant sight.

  Arriving at her destination, Mia paid the driver with cold, clammy fingers and walked up the five flights of stairs to her apartment. Jessie wasn’t home, and Mia enviously thought that she was probably out enjoying the beautiful day with her friends. Either that or studying for finals—and both options sounded amazing to Mia right about now.

  She settled in to wait.

  About a half hour had passed, and Mia had nearly worn a hole in the carpet pacing up and down the living room. Finally, just as she was about to go out of her mind with frustration, the doorbell rang.

  John and one of the young women from the meeting were at her door. The girl’s hair was a sandy shade of brown and cut short, almost like a man’s. She also looked very athletic. If it hadn’t been for her elfin features, she could have easily passed for a teenage boy.

  “Mia, this is Leslie,” said John. “Leslie—this is Mia, the girl I was telling you about.”

  Mia nodded in greeting and let them into the apartment.

  “John,” she said without a preamble, “I just learned that you’re in danger.”

  “No shit,” Leslie said sarcastically. “We had no idea.”

  Mia was taken aback. This girl had no reason to dislike her, yet her tone was almost contemptuous. She felt her own hackles rising. “That’s right,” she said coolly. “You obviously had no idea . . . else you wouldn’t have had that meeting where Korum could get a nice video of you all—including you, Leslie.”

  John’s eyes widened in shock. “What are you talking about? What video?”

  “I’m not even sure if video is the right word for it. It’s really more of a virtual reality show—”

  She relayed to them exactly what she’d seen today. By the time she finished, John looked pale and Leslie’s arrogant smirk had been wiped from her face.

  “I don’t understand,” he said slowly. “How did he know where to find us? All of our regular meeting places get swept for bugs and tracking devices daily. We all get regular scans too—”

  “It’s obviously not enough,” said Leslie. “Either that, or we were betrayed.”

  They looked at each other in dismay.

  “How are you even doing this?” asked Mia. “How do you even know what to look for when you do your scans? They can hide their tracking devices in anything. You even told me I have them in me . . .”

  “That’s true,” John nodded, “but we can still find them—”

  “Usually,” said Leslie.

  “Right, usually, because we’re not just relying on our own modern technology—”

  “John,” said Leslie warningly.

  “Leslie, Mia should know. She clearly risked a lot finding this information for us tonight—”

  “But how can you trust her? She sleeps with him every day!”

  “She has no choice in the matter! And how else would she have come across this today? You should be kissing her feet that she risked her life like that—”

  “Excuse me,” interrupted Mia, flushed with anger and embarrassment, “what is it you think I should know?”

  Leslie just stared angrily, looking like she wanted to hit John. He ignored her and said, “Look, Mia . . . I don’t want you to think that we’re just a bunch of idiots bumbling around, in over our heads. Maybe that’s what the movement was in the early stages, when we had no clue what they were or what they were capable of. It’s different now. We know our adversary well. And we have help—”

  “Help from the Ks?” interrupted Mia, her heart beating faster at the thought.

  “From the Ks,” confirmed John. “As I told you before, they’re not all the same. Some of them believe it’s wrong, the way the Ks have come to this planet to steal it from us . . . to enslave our population. They want to help us—to share their technology with us, to help us advance until we become their equals—”

  “They’re like the PETA version of the Ks,” said Leslie, giving in to the inevitable, but with a frown still on her face. “We call them KETHs—Ks for the Ethical Treatment of Humans.”

  “KETHs, or Keiths, to make it easier to pronounce,” clarified John.

  Mia stared at them in amazement. He’d hinted at their powerful allies before, but this clearly went beyond just one or two rogue K individuals.

  “What kind of pull do the Keiths have within their society?” she asked, trying to put it all into perspective.

  “Not a ton,” admitted John.

  “They’re kind of a fringe group, from what we understand,” added Leslie. “But they do have access to K technology, and they supply us with what we need to stay ahead—the scanning tools we use, the shielding technology . . .”

  “But to what end?” asked Mia, still not comprehending. “So you run around unseen—or not, as we learned today—but what can a fringe group do to really make a difference? You still can’t fight them, even if you have a few bug scanning devices. Unless—”

  She gasped in realization.

  “Unless they were supplying us with more than a few scanning devices, that’s right,” John said helpfully.

  “That’s enough, John,” Leslie said in a harsh tone. “Now she knows as much as most members of our group. If you tell her anything else and she gets caught—”

  John sighed. “Leslie’s right. Your lover already knows everything we’ve told you so far. I can’t tell you anything else without putting you in danger. In even greater danger, I mean . . .”

  Mia nodded in understanding. There was no reason for her to know the particulars of the Resistance plans. The last thing she needed was to be tortured for information. Of course, she had no idea if she could withstand even the threat of torture. Just the thought of Korum being angry with her was frighteni
ng in and of itself.

  “Okay, then,” she said. “I have to ask you one thing . . . Since your security is not as good as you thought it was, is there a chance that Korum could know about me? Did you talk about me at any time in that place in Brooklyn? Because if you did—”

  “No, Mia, you’re safe.” John understood immediately where she was leading. “There’s always a chance that he could know . . . but I really doubt it. You’re our secret weapon. I’ve never spoken about you with anyone. Except for Jason—and Leslie, who happened to be with me today when I saw your email—no one knows that you’re working for us.”

  Seeing the surprised look on Mia’s face, he explained, “I didn’t want to put you in any unnecessary danger. If we were to get caught and interrogated, your name would not come up.”

  He paused, apparently thinking about his next words. “And, frankly, I wasn’t sure you would be able to come across anything useful. What you just told us today is so far above my expectations . . . I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful we are. You see, tonight we were supposed to have a final brainstorming session—more than thirty of our top fighters were scheduled to attend. Korum must know about this . . . We talked about it in the last meeting—the one that you partially saw. If he had ambushed us tonight, he could have dealt a serious blow to the movement. You probably saved many lives today, Mia.”

  Mia looked at him, her cheeks flaming with mixed emotions. She was glad she could help the Resistance and hugely relieved that her secret was safe for now. But she was also a little offended at his low opinion of her capabilities. Then again, it was sheer luck that she’d stumbled upon this information today. Prior to this, she really had been useless to the movement, so she could hardly blame him for thinking that.

  “All right,” she said. “I hope that you can reschedule whatever you’ve got planned for tonight. Korum said he may not be home at all this evening, so whatever he’s doing is probably big.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Hey stranger, welcome back!”

  Jessie had apparently gotten her email and came home, bubbling with enthusiasm.

  Mia grinned back and gave her roommate a big hug, genuinely happy to see her cheerful face. Her meeting with the Resistance fighters had left her unsettled, and Jessie was exactly the distraction she needed.

  “So tell me,” Jessie joked, “how did the big bad K let you come out for a night? I was sure he was keeping you under lock and key there.”

  Mia flushed. It was a little too close to the truth for comfort. Shrugging, she said, “I think he has to work this evening or something. He wasn’t sure if he’d be home at all, so he suggested we hang out.”

  “Wow, how nice of him,” Jessie said, comically widening her eyes. “Do you know what this means?”

  “No, what?” Mia said, laughing at the dramatic expression on Jessie’s face.

  “It means we’re going out! It’s a Saturday night, and we’re going to party!”

  Mia wrinkled her nose a little. “Really? Right before finals?”

  “Damn right! Oh, don’t give me that look. I know you’ve been cramming for weeks already. One evening out won’t make or break your grade. But since your K overlord decided to let you out only for tonight, we’re going to have ourselves a blast!”

  Mia grinned. Jessie’s enthusiasm was catching, and suddenly the idea of getting utterly wasted while dancing all night sounded just about perfect.

  Two hours later, the girls began preparations for the night out. Showering and shaving every inch of her body, Mia washed her hair and thoroughly conditioned it. The regular use of Korum’s shampoo had turned it soft and silky, infinitely more manageable, and blowdrying resulted in a soft mass of well-defined dark curls cascading halfway down her back.

  Makeup was next, and Mia went for the dramatic smoky-eye look, keeping the rest of her face neutral. Her wardrobe, however, presented a dilemma, for which she needed expert advice. “Jessie!” she yelled for the expert.

  Her roommate came in, dressed to the nines herself. In her short red dress and sky-high heels, she looked like a million bucks. “Let me guess. You still don’t know what to wear?” she asked with a big grin.

  “I need your help.” Mia gave her a helpless look, motioning toward the closet.

  “Okay, let’s see, what have we got here . . . Prada, Gucci, Badgley Mischka—oh poor you, you really have nothing to wear!” Jessie shook her head in mock reproach. “This is unbelievable, Mia—he totally spoils you. No wonder you never come home anymore.”

  Digging through Mia’s closet, Jessie pulled out a risqué Dolce & Gabbana dress and thrust it at Mia. “Here, try this one on.”

  Mia eyed it doubtfully. “Won’t I be cold?” There wasn’t much to the dress. It looked like two scraps of purple fabric held together by a few hooks and zippers.

  “Dancing in a hot, crowded club? Oh please.” Jessie snorted dismissively. “And if you wear this, I can guarantee you we won’t have to stand in line outside.”

  Mia decided to listen to the expert. Shimmying into the dress, she walked out of the room to show it to Jessie.

  “Wow.” Jessie was almost speechless. “I don’t know what he’s been feeding you, but you look amazing. I mean, you always looked cute—but this is a whole other level.”

  Mia blushed a little. The dress was definitely sexy, showing off her legs and exposing her back and shoulders. It was a bit too provocative for Mia’s taste, with the flimsy ties around her neck being the only things holding the top in place. She couldn’t wear a bra with it, given the low cut in the back, and she felt like her nipples were visible under the clingy fabric. To complete the look, she slipped on a sexy pair of heels and grabbed a tiny sparkly purse.

  She was ready to party.

  ***

  For the club, they chose the trendiest place in the Meatpacking District. It was a popular destination for celebrities, models, model wannabes, and any other beautiful people who liked to party. Pre-Korum Mia would have never gone to such place, sure that she wouldn’t make it through the door without waiting for two hours in the cold. However, her newly confident well-dressed self had no such qualms.

  Strolling right up to the bouncer, Mia and Jessie gave him big sexy smiles. He eyed them with a purely masculine appreciation and lifted the rope, letting them through without a word.

  “Nicely done,” Jessie whispered as they walked down the steps toward the deafening music.

  Even at 11 p.m. the club was packed and happening. The music was excellent, a mix of old hip-hop favorites and some of the latest dance-hop. The dance floor was not particularly large, and every inch of it was filled with gorgeous girls grinding against each other and the few lucky guys who’d managed to get past the bouncer thus far. Sometimes it was really nice to be a girl, Mia thought. The only way most men could get into a place like this was by spending a ridiculous amount of money, whereas the girls were let in for free—as bait, of course.

  Going up to the bar, the two girls quickly found a pair of stools and ordered four vodka shots. A couple of guys immediately offered to buy them drinks, and Jessie declined with a giggle. “Too early for that,” she told Mia. “We want to dance, not hang out with these bozos all night.”

  Mia laughingly agreed, and they did their first shot, biting into a lemon afterward.

  The evening got even brighter, taking on that special sparkle that only the first glass of alcohol and anticipation of a fun night could bring. Mia felt young and pretty—and, for the moment, utterly carefree. Tomorrow she could worry again, but tonight—tonight she was going to party.

  “Cheers!”

  The second shot went down even smoother, and things acquired a pleasant fuzzy glow in Mia’s mind. The dance floor beckoned, the pulsating rhythm of the music reverberating in her bones. Grabbing Jessie’s hand, she pulled her toward the gyrating crowd.

  For the next hour, they danced nonstop. One good song after another came on, driving the dance floor into a frenzy. Mia da
nced with Jessie, with two other girls who had danced up to them, with a group of Wall Street types who kept trying to touch her naked back, and with Jessie again. She danced until she was hot and sweaty and breathless, her leg muscles quivering from all the squatting motions that a proper grinding dance entailed. She danced until she could no longer remember why she’d felt so crappy earlier today and what tomorrow could bring.

  “Need water!” Jessie yelled out, trying to be heard above the music. Laughing, Mia accompanied her back to the bar. They each got a glass of tap water and another round of vodka. This time, Jessie was too buzzed to refuse when a handsome guy who looked vaguely familiar—a reality TV star, perhaps—offered to pay for their shots.

  Edgar—who turned out to be an actor in a recently canceled drama—hit it off with Jessie right away. Her roommate, flattered by attention from a celebrity, flirted and giggled for all she was worth. Feeling slightly left out, Mia went to the bathroom by herself.

  When she came back, a couple of Edgar’s friends had joined them at the bar. They were both cute in that slightly boyish way that was popular now, and looked to be in great shape. They introduced themselves, and Mia learned that they were from the show as well. Peter was a stunt double, while Sean was a member of the supporting cast. “What is this, Entourage?” Mia joked, and they laughed, agreeing that their lives had much in common with the old show.

  Apparently realizing they were horning in on a girls’ night out, the guys ordered another round of drinks for everyone. It was tequila this time, and Mia nearly gagged at the strong taste that remained in her mouth even after biting into her lime. Her alcohol-barometer nose was long past its itching point, and she knew she would probably regret this tomorrow. But at this particular moment, with vodka and tequila surging through her system, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

  Mia wasn’t planning on chatting up any guys, but Peter turned out to be a surprisingly good conversationalist. His voice was deep enough that it carried above the loud music, and she learned that they had Polish ancestry in common. His parents had actually come to this country fairly recently, even though he was an American citizen and had no accent. He had recently graduated from NYU himself—the Tisch School of the Arts—and wanted to be a film producer longer term. Since he had always been athletic, stunt-doubling was the best way for him to break into the field and start getting to know people, and he had been lucky enough to land a spot on the recently cancelled show.