Once Upon A Midnight

by Stephanie Rowe

  Irish smiled, his pride for Claire almost choking him. He nodded even though he feared what they’d discover. “Let’s go find her.”

  * * * *

  Claire groaned. Note to self—when jumping from a window forty stories up with a squealing demon, aim for a snowbank. It had to be softer than the sidewalk.

  She tried to sit up, but her leg was twisted at an ugly angle behind her.

  And she was naked. Beautiful.

  Testing the waters, Claire moved the foot of her injured leg and sighed in relief. Not broken.

  The sound of voices coming from around the corner turned her groan into a low whimper of shame.

  “Claire!” She heard Hadley’s youthful voice, full of apprehension. “I found her, Irish!” Footsteps crunching on the snow-covered sidewalk rapidly approached until Hadley knelt beside her and grabbed her hand. She took off her jacket and placed it over Claire’s torso, her eyes full of concern.

  Taking her by the hand, Hadley helped Claire sit up and straighten her leg before wrapping her arms around her neck and squeezing tight. “I’m sorry, Claire. I’m really, really sorry. This is all my fault. Are you okay?”

  Claire closed her eyes and swallowed, hugging Hadley and whispering, “This is absolutely not your fault, and don’t ever let me hear you say that again. Ever. Now, remember what I said, okay, honey? Not a word.”

  “Not a word about what, Librarian?” Irish asked, staring down at her, one half of his mouth tilted upward in a crooked smile. His hands were covered in blood, his jacket spattered, but he was alive. Or undead alive, or whatever. He was still walking and talking and that was all she cared about—all she needed.

  “About how she found me, Dracula. I mean, look at me. I’m naked on the sidewalk, all crumpled like some discarded ragdoll. Do you think I want all of Rock Cove to know about this? I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  His eyes scanned the landscape, obviously looking for Angus. “Sweeten?”

  She shook her head, angry with herself for blacking out when she’d hit the ground. “I don’t know. I hit the pavement and that’s the last thing I remember.” Fear welled up inside her. They had to find him—he was all the proof she had about what Gannon had been involved in.

  Irish knelt down beside her, his eyes searching hers for a long moment before he hauled her into his arms and pulled her close. “Forget Angus for the moment. You, milady, are one extremely hot broad, did you know that?”

  She chuckled against his neck, inhaling his scent, burrowing against his hard chest, unmindful of Hadley. “How hot is it to be found like this, Irish McConnell? You can keep your brand of hot, Dark One.”

  Dragging his fingers through her tangled hair, he tipped her head back and cupped her chin. “Don’t you ever, ever disappear on me again, Claire Montgomery. Ever,” he murmured, his voice husky.

  She pressed a small kiss to the side of his lips, running her hands over his almost healed chest. “Never.”

  “So, fair maiden. Here you are. Naked. In the Zone. On a sidewalk after leaping forty stories. Whaddya say we go to Disneyland?”

  She let her head fall back on her shoulders, laughter spilling from her throat. “I need to go home, Irish. That’s about all the Disneyland I can manage after tonight. But first, I need to get back in there and find something—anything that will prove—”

  “Gannon was in on this?” Liam interrupted, making Claire attempt to move away from Irish as if she’d been caught with her hand in a cookie jar.

  “Y-yes.” If she couldn’t bring Angus Sweeten to the council, she’d bring something else, but by hell, he wasn’t going to get away with what he’d done.

  Liam held up a thumb drive and dropped a blanket next to her. “Got that covered. Everything you need to know about paranormal trafficking all on one little thumb drive. Stone found it. If nothing else, Angus was meticulous about keeping records. He was especially meticulous about who owed him money. Gannon being one of the people who owed him a hefty sum. I don’t know what for yet, but his name’s all over this. We’ll look at it more closely when we get back. Bleaker’s good at making sense of the tech stuff, despite his failed attempts at babysitting one little vampire girl.”

  Claire shivered. That must have been what Gannon meant when he’d been on the phone with Angus. I’m running out of shit, man. I’m gonna have to tap the town. Do you know how dangerous that is for me? “Thank you, Liam. You didn’t have to help.”

  Liam hitched his squared jaw. “You didn’t have to help either, but you did.” His response clearly had a hint of a begrudging gratitude, but she’d take her small victories where she could.

  Irish took off his jacket, too, helping her into the sleeves. “Can you walk?”

  She nodded. “It’s not broken. Should heal in no time flat.”

  “Good, because we need to get out of here, Claire. It won’t be long before word gets out that something went down here tonight. We’ll sort this all out when we get back to Rock Cove. Will you be okay on the back of the bike?”

  She shook her head, a million questions still unanswered. “You can’t ride into town with me on the back of your bike, Irish. We’ll get caught, and now, just by virtue of them helping you, the rest of your crew knows about me, too. How many people are we going to ask to keep our secret for us? It’s unfair—”

  Irish pressed his lips to hers, effectively quieting her. “I don’t give a damn about anyone in town. Especially not after what we found tonight. We’re going to find a way to come out of this on top, Librarian. On top and together.”

  Her heart shifted in her chest, her eyes welling with tears. “Then onward ho, my liege. Take me home.”

  Irish helped her wrap the blanket around her just as some of the Fangs roared to a stop by the curb, Stone and Mondo riding Liam and Irish’s bikes.

  Irish clapped Stone on the shoulder, looking to Mondo. “You okay to go back and get your bikes alone?”

  Stone winked at Claire. “You go. We’re fine.”

  She slid onto the seat of Irish’s bike after making sure Sarah and Hadley were secure and wrapped her arms around Irish’s waist, pressing her cheek into his back against the biting wind and saying what she hoped was her final goodbye to the Zone.

  * * * *

  “Where the fuck have you been? I’m gonna kill you, you snotty, lying, cold-blooded, murdering bitch!” Courtland roared just twenty minutes after they’d crossed over into Rock Cove and pulled into Irish’s driveway.

  He approached them with the Dogs in tow, stomping toward the group through the drifts of freshly fallen snow, leaving angry footprints in his wake.

  Claire slid from Irish’s bike, weary from the battle and the bitter cold of the ride back. But she was never too weary to protect a child’s ears. “Ask someone to take the girls inside, please, Irish,” she muttered.

  Stalking toward Courtland and the Dogs, she gave him a look of mock surprise. “Wow. That was a lot of adjectives in one sentence. Good on you. Have you been studying your descriptive words?”

  He gaped down at her, his greasy ponytail draped over his shoulder. “My what?”

  She flapped a hand at him, so tired, so sore. “Never mind, Courtland. Just shut up. For the love of all that’s seething and drooling, shut up! There are children present. If you can’t at least use your manners then please leave the foul language out of it. Didn’t your mother teach you anything?”

  Courtland howled his anger, reaching for her neck, only to have Irish snatch his wrist and bend his hand backward. “Back off, Dodd! After the night I’ve had tonight, I swear to Christ, I’ll use this to beat you with after I rip it off your arm!”

  Courtland snarled, trying to yank his wrist from Irish’s grasp. “She killed Gannon, and I’m gonna have my pound of flesh before this night is over, Bloodsucker! I know it in my gut she did!”

  “You don’t know anything, Dodd,” Irish sneered. “As I recall, you said you had a witness to Gannon’s murder. Where’s your witness now? No p
roof, no Claire!”

  Clearly, Courtland had been bluffing. It was in the way his eyes shifted away from Irish’s and back again. “She’s not your fucking business, Irish—this is pack business, and I have every right to lock her up!”

  The wind screeched through the trees, bending bare limbs back and forth as the Dogs and Fangs crowded around her. But Claire held up a hand, tucking the blanket fast around her waist with the other.

  Enough. Enough of Courtland Dodd and his makeshift reign of terror. Enough of the guilt.

  Enough.

  Rounding on him, Claire poked a finger in his chest. “This is clan business, and I’m going to tell you why. But first, you know what, Courtland? I did kill your filthy, depraved brother. I killed him so good! I hunted him down like the rabid animal he was and I chewed my way through his chest then ripped his black, black heart from it! Then I tore out his liver and his kidneys, just to make sure that scum wouldn’t be able to self-heal. I smashed his head against the bar at Boomer’s so there’d be no living organ left in him to aide his coming back and terrorizing the people of this pack. Oh yes! I killed him, and I’d do it again and again exactly the same way!” she spat in his face, her utter disgust, the complete horror of that night all coming back on one big tidal wave of suppressed rage.

  Courtland’s eyes flew open wide, spittle flying everywhere when he screamed, “I’ll see you flayed, you dumb cunt!”

  “The. Hell. You. Will!” she screamed back at him, her legs trembling, rushes of adrenaline coursing through her veins. “Do you know what that depraved maniac was doing, Courtland? Do you have any idea what he was up to? Because if you do, then you’re in as much shit as he is! Do you know why your beloved brother had to die?”

  Courtland opened his mouth, yet no words came out. He stopped struggling against Irish but his big body trembled with fury.

  Her hands shook when she grabbed the front of his vest, twisting it in her hands until her fingers were numb. “I’ll tell you why he had to die, Courtland. He died because he tried to kill me first! And I’ll tell you why this isn’t just pack business! Because the night I killed Gannon, I caught him kidnapping Hadley McConnell!”

  Chapter 23

  Irish didn’t move, but neither did anyone else. The silence, as cold as the wind ripping at them, grew palpable and thick.

  Claire gasped for breath, lifting her eyes to the stunned faces surrounding her. She lowered her voice when she said, “It’s true. I’m sorry, Irish. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. But when all was said and done, I knew all-out war would break if I told you everything. I needed to know more. Right now, I just need you to trust I made the right decision. Please.” Her eyes implored him, pleaded with him to hear her out.

  Irish’s jaw was tight, his fists clenched at his sides. “Tell me before I kill every last one of them,” he ordered tersely.

  Claire knew he meant it. She swallowed hard, the terror of that night still so vivid, her stomach lurched. “I was out walking when I saw a light on inside Boomer’s. It’s like you once said, mostly kids looking for trouble go there. So I went to investigate—to check and make sure no one was doing something they shouldn’t. That’s when…”

  Jesus. Jesus Christ. Every time she remembered Hadley, so helpless, so afraid…

  “And?” Irish gritted out.

  “Gannon was on the phone. Hadley was out cold, tied up with something I’m sure immobilized her powers. He was on the phone with whom I now know was Angus Sweeten, and he was talking about how he had another girl for him. One he could get…” Her voice hitched. “An enormous price for because she was young and…and vampire. He was laughing and saying the vilest things…”

  She shook her head, pressing her fingers to her throat to keep from vomiting. Never. She’d never repeat those ugly words.

  Irish’s face went darker than she’d ever seen it before, his eyes wild, his fangs hissing their presence. “Gannon was going to sell my sister?”

  Claire nodded, tears falling from her eyes. She reached out her hands to stop him, feeling his anger vibrating beneath her palms. “Yes. I heard him tell Angus—”

  “Who the fuck is Angus?” Courtland shrieked, his fists balled, but the Fangs crowded him.

  “Finish,” Irish demanded.

  Claire tightened his jacket around her. “Gannon told Angus he would bring her to him that night, all ‘purty’ like a trussed-up Christmas turkey once he tested…” She gagged, wiping the back of her hand over her mouth. She couldn’t repeat it—wouldn’t.

  “But you said it didn’t involve any of the girls in town, Claire!” he bellowed.

  Licking her lips, she tried to keep hysteria at bay. “Technically, it didn’t because…because I stopped it. When I heard him say he was going to take her that night, I just reacted. I lost it. I went after him, confronted him. We fought, but somehow I got the better of him when I managed to grab a broken bottle. I made him untie Hadley while I had my teeth at on side of his throat and a glass bottle at the other!” She spewed the words, remembering the greasy smell of Gannon, the taste of his unwashed flesh in her mouth.

  Remembering how she wanted to rip his neck open, smash his head against something until it cracked wide open and his brains spilled from his skull, brains she pictured dancing in, her fury so bone-deep.

  God, the rage. The utter horror her thoughts had filled with when it was over. She’d never known she was capable of so much hatred.

  “So how the fuck did he end up dead if he let Hadley go?” Courtland demanded.

  Her eyes shifted from one Fang to the next Dog, her throat threatening to swell up. “He came back after me when I let him go and said I was going to the council. He told me I’d never be able to prove it. So…so I went right back after him…”

  Right back after him. Over and over again until she thought she’d die of exhaustion, until her chest heaved for air and her lungs burned. Until Hadley’s weakened state revitalized…

  Courtland finally spoke, his lips in a sneer, his oily hair blowing about his face. “You’re lying! No way you could’ve taken Gannon down, you lying whore! You might be strong, but he was stronger!” He turned to Irish, his eyes ablaze. “Now get the fuck out of my way, Bloodsucker. The filthy bitch comes with me!”

  Irish moved like lightning, shoving her behind him, but Claire pushed him out of the way. Her voice a low menace, trembling from the memory—the blood…Hadley’s terrified screams.

  “Oh, you’re wrong, Courtland. I was stronger that night. But I wasn’t just stronger—I was smarter than your insidious brother. Gannon forgot one thing. One really important thing. He forgot all that reading I do. He forgot that I know the location of his brain stem—the exact spot! I drove my finger into it like it was my last act on earth and I killed him, Courtland. I killed Gannon Dodd!”

  Courtland snarled, growling low. “You’ll pay for this, you lying bitch! I’m gonna squeeze the life right the fuck out of you!”

  “Will I pay, Courtland?” she bellowed back, her voice rising over the wind. “Will you still feel that way when I go to the council with the proof? I have the evidence that proves Gannon was selling children to Angus Sweeten, and you’d better hope I don’t find any proof you were involved, or I’ll see you flayed alive! Now take your filthy lot of Dogs and go home!”

  “I said you’re coming with me, cunt!” Courtland hollered, grabbing for her arm.

  But he wasn’t as quick or as small as she was. In seconds, she was on his back, her finger pressed to the spot leading to his brain stem, her other arm around his neck. “You move, and I’ll drive my finger through your flesh like a goddamn drill just like I did your dirty brother!”

  Irish gripped her from behind, securing her by the waist. “Claire! Let go. Now.”

  His voice calmed her, reached out to her. She let him peel her from Courtland’s back and dropped to the ground, her teeth clenched.

  Irish faced Courtland, his face a mask of granite. “Get the fuck off my land
, now Dodd, or we will have a war on our hands. Had I known that bastard motherfucker had my sister, Claire’s right—I would have killed the lot of you, no questions asked. Go contact your council so we can get this over with once and for all, and if I find out you were even remotely involved in Hadley’s abduction the night your scumbag brother bit it, or with what happened tonight, you damn well better run far. Because I’ll kill every one of you and sop up your blood with a goddamn piece of toast!”

  * * * *

  Claire shook in Irish’s shower, shook so hard her teeth chattered. No water could warm her from what she’d just confessed. Nothing would change what happened that night.

  She hadn’t spent a lot of time with it or let it sit—sink in. She’d been too busy trying to keep one step ahead of this mess. Too busy protecting Hadley from any more horror. Too busy trying to find a way to keep their town from crumbling around them with yet another war between the races.

  After she dried off and wrapped herself in the bathrobe Irish gave her, she left his bathroom with dread.

  He hadn’t said a word when he’d handed the thumb drive to Bleaker with instructions to get every last detail from it, but he hadn’t needed to. She’d kept something vital from him, and she was going to pay for it. Probably lose him forever because of it.

  And that hurt. More than the torture she’d endured with Angus. Far more than anything else that had happened up to this point.

  But she would take her licks, because it was what she deserved for lying to him all this time.

  Popping the door open, she found her way to the kitchen where Hadley and Irish sat at the table, their hands entwined.

  “Claire!” Hadley jumped up, her eyes sending a message Claire didn’t understand.