Waiting for Darkness (Blood Martyr)

by Fionn Jameson

  Eileen was a werewolf, the same breed as Kieran, but not from the same pack.

  “What about it?” Why, oh, why did I have a bad feeling about this? And this wasn’t the sort of feeling a kid gets when they get their report card. This was on a whole new level of bad.

  “They’re coming here. Tonight,” she said.

  I didn’t see anything worth a bleeding lip. “Okay. They’re coming here tonight. So what? Yeah, it’s a bit weird for an entire pack to come on a weekday, but we can handle it, we’ve got enough staff. We'll just get them ridiculously drunk and then throw them out. So, what’s the real problem that’s got you dripping blood on my counters?”

  At this point, she was practically wringing her hands in anxiety.

  “I heard a rumor Kieran’s going to be here tonight too.”

  Oh.

  Oh.

  Now I understood. And I felt like wringing my hands right along with her.

  I settled for cursing instead. “Well, damn. Who would’ve thought, eh?”

  “What are we going to do?” she wailed.

  I tried not to let worry show on my face. “I’m not sure. Pray one pack leaves before the other comes in?” I quipped, even though that was the last thing I wanted to do.

  Were-creatures, in principle, were highly contentious. Within the presence of another clan, pack, gathering, whatever, they liked to pick fights and argue until fists flew and things started to break.

  The dominant nature of the top male, the leaders, yearned to submit everyone to their rule, even leaders from other packs. Naturally, the other leader didn’t like this, and that’s when the trouble began.

  “Um…Eileen?” I suddenly remembered something very unpleasant. “Just as a matter of curiosity, is Phoenix still your alpha?”

  She nodded glumly, and I got to thinking that maybe closing the club and calling it an off-day wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

  Phoenix hated Kieran. And when I say hated, I mean the sort of hate that makes people want to maul. To tear apart. To kill.

  Things were going to get rather…interesting.

  Jamison, unfortunately, was going to have to wait.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “When the dogs come out to play, that’s when the humans go away….”

  “For God’s sake, try to act normal, okay? And will you quit hanging on to me like that?” I hissed, working to keep a smile on my face.

  Eileen, dressed to kill in a clingy red halter that showed off her extremely bountiful chest, meekly pulled away, but continued to stay close to me like an annoying shadow that reeked of Chanel No. 5. I liked perfume just fine, but that particular scent sat heavily in my nostrils and made me want to throw myself out the nearest exit.

  For a Wednesday night, the club was surprisingly full, although I thought perhaps I had Kieran and Phoenix to thank for the bustling business. All the bartenders kept on their toes. Eileen should have been at the counters, but I gave her the night off, seeing as how I didn’t think she’d concentrate on work.

  What was it about clubs that made non-humans think they could use them as their personal fighting/mosh pit? Okay, granted, we did have the occasional mosh pit, but that was heavily supervised, and I’d yet to have a customer go into ICU just because of some wacko who decided to swing around a baseball bat for the hell of it.

  But tonight…I wasn’t so sure. I seriously hoped Phoenix and his pack would get bored and leave before Kieran decided to stroll in, but things rarely worked out the way I wanted them to. Case in point: Jamison.

  Eileen and I wove through the dancing crowd, most of them with their hands in the air, jamming Hot Ride by The Prodigy. The DJ, Ramirez, had a thing for The Prodigy and Moby and loved to play them all the time. The customers didn’t mind, so why should I?

  Eileen poked me in the arm as we cleared a path to the edge of the dance floor.

  “I know, I know. You don’t have to point him out to me. We’ve met before,” I said, wishing I wasn’t telling the truth. We met once. It hadn’t been a very friendly meeting. In fact, he left with a broken arm, and I crawled off with enormous slashes on my lower back that took a full three days to heal—and I still had the scars to prove it. Back then, I thought he was one sadistic son of a bitch.

  Looking at him, I realized nothing had changed in the past thirty years we avoided each other’s footsteps. Nice to know some things never change.

  “Tanith. How…wonderful to see you. I’d jump up with delight, but I’m sure you can see how occupied I am.”

  With two intoxicated minors on each arm, I could see that. Another reason to kick him out. Minors were not allowed, and anyone with them was banned indefinitely as well.

  I made sure never to lose the smile. Smiling confused people. “I see. Well, I hope you’re having a great time here.”

  Surrounded by about thirty members from his pack, sitting in a dark alcove with a few bottles of ’72 Pessac-Leognan cooling in ice buckets, he certainly looked like he was having a blast. The silver chain around his neck caught the light from one of the roving disco beams and nearly blinded me. Damn. I was hoping it would’ve done its job. It would’ve made standing there a hell of a lot easier.

  Thirty years ago, he was a breathtaking specimen. Much as I hated beauty in men with ugly souls, I had to give credit where it was due. Now, thirty years later, he still looked the same, minus the weird hairstyles and the crazy suspenders that everyone seemed to have an obsession with back then.

  I had to admit he looked good. That was a major understatement, but it was as much silent praise I was going to give the dickhead.

  Diamond studs were so last year, but he pulled it off with aplomb, and his suit was probably worth as much as one of my full-time employee’s yearly salary. He didn’t have a tie, but somehow, the outfit still looked neat. Very put-together.

  His eyes glimmered auburn in the dim lights of the club, and for a brief moment, just for a moment, they trapped me. A wolf can bespell its prey. He tried to do that on me, but I was a vampire. No, more importantly, I was a vampire who’d been undead since before Mary even contemplated taking the English throne away from Elizabeth.

  He could do some serious damage to me, but I could kill him. But I didn’t like getting hurt. That would explain why I had yet to kill him. I didn’t think I had the balls to handle the physical pain I’d have to go through if I chose to do him in.

  I snapped our mental connection with another fake smile and leaned near the girls. They didn’t smell a year over seventeen. Jesus Christ. The guy looked like he stepped out of a GQ ad for Sports Illustrated readers, and he had to walk around with seventeen year olds? What the hell was wrong with him? Well, besides the obvious.

  “How old are you? Sixteen? Seventeen?” I wheedled.

  Phoenix laughed. “They’re legal, vampire. If I say they’re legal, you’d better take my word for it.”

  My hackles rose, and the familiar ebb and flow of resentment ate away at my conscience. I had to stay calm. I couldn’t let Phoenix get to me. The club, this business, the people who worked here, they all depended on me keeping a cool head.

  If not, he could really mess things up. Maybe I was taking the coward’s way out. But I learned, long ago, it was much better to stay in the shadows rather than stride purposefully in the sun. To stab someone in the back, rather than slash them full across the chest. You tended to live longer that way.

  “Don’t call her that, Phoenix. You’re in her domain now. You go by her rules or you leave,” Eileen said.

  Small girl certainly had more than her fair share of courage. Phoenix was Eileen’s alpha leader, her male superior. By rights, she shouldn’t even have had the right to talk to him, never mind in that fashion. If he wanted to, he could kill her for her insolence.

  But I’d be damned thrice over before letting that happen.

  She stood by me, hands on her hips, and the ever-present, contemptuous smile faded from Phoenix’s crimson lips.

  “Eileen. Did
n’t I say you were not to come here tonight? I could have sworn I ordered you to stay home.” His voice sounded as rough as jagged glass and about as pleasant to hear.

  Oh uh. Things were going from bad to worse.

  Eileen shook. It wasn’t very noticeable, until I looked at her hoop earrings. The pearl drop jiggled in the middle of the silver rims.

  I couldn’t just watch and let this happen.

  I placed myself in front of Eileen. My body could withstand far more things than hers could.

  “I think I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Phoenix. Not only have you got minors in your party, but you’ve upset one of my employees, and I can’t stand by and watch you do your fucking superiority act.” I tried not to piss him off any more than was absolutely necessary. I didn’t want to wake up the next night and find he ordered his lackeys to burn Club Dragonne down to the ground.

  He stared down at the girls in his arms and then back at me. His eyes flashed with just a taste of ochre. The Weres around him visibly bristled.

  Oops. Probably could've done away with the last sentence.

  I just made a grave mistake.

  He was going to change. If I didn’t tread carefully, he would shift into a wolf—and so would his entire pack. That was thirty werewolves, plus one alpha male who, when shifted, towered over eight feet on his hind legs.

  I shouldn’t have opened the club.

  Like an idiot, I thought I could somehow placate both Were clans. Now, with one wrong word, I possibly condemned over seventy people to their deaths, or at the very least, grievous harm. And that wasn’t even counting what they’d do to me.

  Eileen’s intake of breath reached me just before a hand touched my shoulder. The scent of peppermint hit my nose, and the expression on Phoenix’s face darkened further.

  Oh, shit and damnation.

  “What seems to be the problem?” Kieran’s hand slid down to my waist. He drew me close, melding us at the hip as if we were Siamese twins. “You giving my girlfriend any trouble, Phoenix?”

  I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to do. I mean, what is a person supposed to do or say in a situation like this? I looked up at Kieran, trying to figure out what he had in mind. A pleasant smile graced his face, like he was talking to a friend instead of someone who swore to rip his heart out and then feed it to the vultures.

  Phoenix pushed the teens from his lap and stood up, dusting the front of his pants. “Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in. If it isn’t Mr. I-Fuck-My-Own-Mother Kieran Black.”

  Kieran’s smile never faded. If anything, it grew in intensity. “Well, I’m far better off than the poor pup who still gets banged by his own dad. Tell me, how is he? Still poking away at you, I guess?”

  Laughter sounded behind me. Presumably, Kieran had not come alone.

  Phoenix didn’t rise to the bait, but instead nodded to the floor. “Seems like there ain’t no one here, but yours and mine.”

  And he was right.

  The floor was completely void of people. Well, humans in any case.

  My bouncers, having a better grasp of the situation than I did, hustled everyone out post-haste as soon as Kieran and his pack walked through the double doors.

  Even Ramirez was gone. But if he was gone, why the bloody hell did he leave the goddamn music on?

  I turned to Kieran. “I certainly hope you’re not thinking of trashing this place,” I whispered, trying to make it look like I was whispering sweet-nothings into his ear, although the probability of me doing something like that in a circumstance like this was zilch. “Because, let me tell me you something, if you so much as ruin a fucking bar stool, I’m going to carve you to bits. And that’s after I make you pay for it.”

  “And I love you, too, sweetie, but now is not the time for that,” he said, shutting me up effectively. He waved a hand behind him.

  A rush of air whooshed past me as a large mass of thugs, punks, and hoodlums materialized behind us, closing ranks like an army battalion. They made the number of Phoenix’s pack look small by comparison. That made me feel better, if just a little bit. Maybe now the stupid git would actually take a hint and retreat. And preferably, when they did end up fighting, it wouldn’t be in my club.

  “Quality over quantity, Kieran.” Phoenix shook his head. “When will you ever learn?”

  Kieran grinned, well, wolfishly. “I know. Quality over quantity.”

  His men cheered raucously, shouting obscenities at Phoenix’s pack. His pack didn’t take it well. Some of them mumbled amongst themselves, and a few cracked their knuckles in an ominous way.

  It all felt staged, like watching the fight scene in West Side Story.

  “Here? You were always such an impatient prick, Kieran.” Phoenix slipped out of his jacket as his men did the same.

  Oh, God. This was not going how I imagined.

  Kieran ignored the way I tugged at the sleeve of his leather jacket. “Who me? I’m not the fucker straining at the leash,” he said. “But while we’re on the subject of straining….” He snuck a glance at me. “Take your little werewolf girl and get the fuck out of here. Things are going to get a little…messy,” he said quickly and pulled off his leather jacket.

  “What? You’re fucking kidding me. If you’re fighting, if you’re going to fuck up my club, then the least you could allow me is the fun of doing some of that damage myself.”

  The look on Kieran’s face was priceless. “You’re not serious.”

  I was serious. Watching Eileen risk death by standing up for me made me realize I had grown weak. I didn’t dislike the person that I’d become—a nicer person. But I’d also turned soft, and that wasn’t good. Nicer wouldn’t kill me, but soft just might do the job. Here was the chance to redeem myself.

  I took the coat from Kieran and turned to Eileen. She stared back at me, a petrified expression on her pretty face.

  “Go. Go into my office and put everything against the door. Don’t worry about the windows, they’re shatterproof.”

  “But, but….” Her eyes flickered to Phoenix. “He’s my pack leader. He could kill me for deserting.”

  Kieran butted in. “You’re welcome in my pack. Any time.”

  Phoenix laughed.

  “You like picking up strays? Well, you can have that one. She was never any good anyways. Wasn’t much good in bed either,” he said.

  Eileen staggered back as if she’d been struck.

  “How would you know, Phoenix? I hear you aren’t exactly a Casanova, either,” said Kieran with a smile.

  Phoenix’s face turned an ugly red.

  “Go. Eileen, go!” I shoved her toward the general direction of my office on the second floor. After a few faltering steps, she dashed for the stairs, Kieran’s jacket flapping in her slim arms.

  It looked like Phoenix’s pack was all ready to go, and when I glanced back at Kieran’s men, they stood at the ready, all of them smiling in anticipation of the blood that would be spilled.

  “You going to be okay? I won’t have to worry about you, will I?” Kieran asked, sounding worried for the first time that night.

  I couldn’t help but grin.

  It’d been a long, long time since I fought. Most of my opponents would get knocked out after one blow, so fighting had lost much of its allure. But Phoenix’s men looked so strong. Surely, they could take me on.

  “I think you should be worried about yourself,” I teased.

  Damn.

  This was going to be a lot of fun.

  And maybe for just a few minutes, I could forget about Jamison.

  I hoped.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “No one can answer for his courage when he has never been in danger....”

  I could smell it.

  I could taste it.

  The almost tangible feeling of expectation hung thick in the air, so thick one could almost choke on it.

  Phoenix sneered and spat on the spic-and-span floor my employees spent an hour polishing every
day. I was sort of hoping I’d be able to polish it back to its original state with his body. “You’re really going to regret butting in pack business, bitch.”

  “I’d be careful of what I said if I were you. You’re already in deep shit. Do you really think you want to dig any deeper?” Kieran countered.

  Since when did I need a spokesperson to speak on my behalf? But I wasn’t stupid enough to start an argument. Not with thirty Weres grinning at me twenty feet away.

  A pause lingered as the tracks changed in the DJ booth, and in that instant, everything happened, seemingly all at once, like a choreographed dance. I realized then, turning Were could be one of the most painful things in the world. How could it not hurt when you’ve got bones shifting and melding...right under your skin?

  Phoenix was changing—changing a lot faster than anyone else. While everyone else in his pack still remained on their hands and knees, their backbones elongating into painfully straight lines, fur already started to glisten on his body.

  But so was Kieran, maybe even just a bit faster than Phoenix. After all, they were both Alphas, so were bound to change before anyone else. However, Kieran was the disputed Were King. He was supposed to hold court over the other Weres, and that meant he was, technically, Phoenix’s liege lord.

  Apparently, Phoenix didn’t think so.

  He snarled at me, teeth long enough to go through my arm.

  "I'm gonna tear you to pieces, bitch."

  Shit, I didn’t have a weapon. I didn’t even have anything in my hands. Did I really want to fight an eight-foot werewolf with my bare hands?

  The answer came only a split second later before I sprinted for the bar counter on the other side of the dance floor.

  Fuck no.

  Someone howled, a long, low sound that set my hair on end. Damned if I knew who it was and damned again if I was going to turn around to see. I hurled myself over the bar counter, knocking over drinks in the process. My pants started to smell strongly of Jaegermeister, and a tiny part of me was glad I chose to wear casual that night.