Keystone (Crossbreed Series Book 1)

by Dannika Dark

  But the tension between us had more to do with that awkward kiss. It became a veil of shame, making our conversations stilted and rushed.

  It was the night before my final day, and while I’d contemplated Niko’s advice about choosing the right path, it didn’t help me with figuring out what to do with my life. A career as a personal bodyguard skipped through my head a few times, but who was going to hire a woman who wasn’t legal with the Mageri? On top of that, I’d have to lie and tell them I was a Mage, and it wouldn’t be long before they figured out the truth.

  In times like these, I always returned to the one place that centered me.

  Home.

  A home I’d readily abandoned when I was young and wild and thought I knew everything. After high school, my father had offered me a job at his garage, but I was delusional and thought a mall job would give me a normal life. Maybe it was just being around people who lived in a perfect world that made it seem possible for me to be a part of it.

  My daddy was a mechanic and former Marine. But I knew him best for being a biker with a grey mustache, long goatee, tattoos, scars, weathered hands, blue eyes, and long hair pulled back in a ponytail. He drove a couple of Harleys, loved to watch TV, and drank a lot of orange soda. He was just the sort of guy you’d expect to see spending his nights at the bar, but Crush was a recovering alcoholic and stayed away from that scene. He got his nickname because of all the sodas he drank after he kicked the habit and joined Alcoholics Anonymous.

  He wasn’t an angry drunk, but he almost lost custody of me when I was nine after the police arrested him for driving under the influence. I was thrust upon him at an early age after my mother died, and he wasn’t prepared to be a full-time father. My parents didn’t live together; Crush had a special relationship with my mom, but his drinking might have kept them from something more permanent. Regardless, my mother had never denied me knowing my father, and for that I was thankful.

  After he got clean and sober, we built so many great memories together. He didn’t become a different man, just a better one.

  If only time machines existed. Just thinking about those nights when I’d stormed out the door and told him I hated him for making me live in a trailer park made me sick with regret. It was one of those asinine things that most kids say to their parents, but I never got the chance to make it right. Crush was a hardworking man who kept me out of the foster care system after my mom died. I learned street smarts from him. He taught me to be a strong woman who could think for myself, but I never realized the sacrifices he’d made.

  That epiphany only came after I’d become immortal, and by then it was too late since I’d had to cut ties with my human life.

  I knew all his hangouts, so I never worried about running into him. Aside from that, Crush was the kind of guy who worked long days and came home to watch any comedy show on TV he could find.

  I missed his laugh.

  Maybe that was why I still crept over to the trailer on occasion, climbed the tree in the back, and then lay on the roof with my ear pressed against it. My love for heights began with that trailer. I’d spent many nights as a little girl sitting on top of it, pretending it was my castle.

  At night I could hear him in there, popping the lid off his orange soda and belting out a laugh at something on TV. Sometimes when it grew quiet, I wondered if it was because he’d fallen asleep or because he was lost in his thoughts.

  Did he ever think of me?

  The worst part about it all was that I had no idea if someone had given him my cremated remains. Did a grave exist with my name on it? Had my Mage Creator hired someone to scrub his memory of me? There were so many questions I’d never have the answer to, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted them.

  “I miss you, Daddy.”

  Mist coated my face, and I stared bleary-eyed at the low clouds drifting overhead. My Vampire eyes could pick up the subtle shifting of light behind the darkness that hinted dawn was fast approaching.

  “I think of you all the time,” I said quietly, tears gathering at the corners of my eyes. “I’m so sorry for everything. You were a great father, and I don’t think I ever told you that.”

  Crush wasn’t a sensitive man, but he bought me a bunny on my eleventh birthday, even though he was allergic. Any guy who buys his little girl a bunny is a good man in my book.

  I wiped my face with the heels of my hands and sat up, my back stiff from lying on a hard roof for the past nine hours.

  This place felt so familiar, as if I could walk in the door and pretend nothing had ever happened. But knowing about our world would endanger his life. Aside from that, what would he think about his daughter becoming a monster? Part Mage, part Vampire, and complete killer. I wanted him to remember me as the little girl in crooked pigtails, because Crush didn’t know how to do hair.

  After saying good-bye, I hurried down the road toward the gas station off the main road. I closed my eyes, imagining the sky turning an indigo blue before the pale-orange light bled into the horizon. Instead, morning greeted me with rolling fog on the tree line to my right and thunder rumbling in the distance.

  It only took the cab driver ten minutes to arrive—impressive considering we were on the outskirts of the city. I tossed my duffel bag on the floor and got in, my clothes damp, my throat parched.

  After giving the driver directions, I hugged my midsection, shivering from the cold air. My eyes closed as thoughts of my father stayed on my mind. When I was first offered immortality by my Vampire maker, I thought I’d hit the jackpot. But after a few years of living the life, immortality frightened me. Someday I’d be thousands of years old, and my father would be nothing but a distant memory. Would I still remember the sound of his laugh?

  The car slowed, and the back doors suddenly opened. Someone slid next to me on the right, and when I turned, I saw another man getting in on the opposite side.

  Confused, I knocked on the plastic divider between the front and backseat to alert the driver. Maybe he hadn’t switched the light off.

  “Darius wants to speak with you,” one of the men said.

  My heart thumped against my chest, and I turned to look at him. He calmly sat in his seat, eyes forward, making no aggressive moves to restrain me.

  “Maybe I don’t want to speak with him.”

  They both had on sunglasses, and the one on the right looked more the part of an FBI agent. “That’s your choice. You can either go willingly, or we can do this the hard way, but you are going.”

  “Fine.”

  I sat back and crossed my foot over my knee, casually tapping my fingers on my boot.

  When the driver sped up, I heaved a reluctant sigh, reclining my head against the seat. Had I tried to escape, they would have restrained me, so I played it cool until I found an opportunity to do something about my situation. Not long after we entered the city, the pedestrians had become a distraction to the man on my left. Each time we stopped at an intersection, his head would turn away.

  I glanced up at the goon to my right and blew a soft breath on his neck. He shivered and looked down at me, his lips pressed tight.

  “Ever had a threesome in the back of a cab?” I whispered.

  His eyes were concealed, but when his lips parted, that was the answer I needed.

  With lightning speed, I pulled a blade from the heel of my boot and jammed it in his leg. I turned left and reached into his friend’s jacket in search of weapons. The cab swerved, and the man tried to throw me off, his friend still paralyzed from the stunner I’d left in his thigh.

  He slammed me against the divider and reached inside his jacket. I grabbed his arm and wrenched it away, punching him in the throat with my free hand. He swung his right arm and hit me in the shoulder instead of the face. I grabbed hold of his weapon—a long dagger—which I held to his throat.

  “Is this a stunner?” I asked, removing his sunglasses. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

  The cab was going at breakneck speed. If the driver had stopped, I wou
ld have gotten out and fled.

  I pressed the sharp tip of the blade into the man’s neck until blood crawled down onto his shirt. His eyes bulged, and his trembling movement confirmed that this was no blade infused with magic.

  But daggers could still do some serious damage, and he didn’t seem like the kind of man with a high tolerance for pain.

  “Okay, okay,” he said, raising his arms.

  “Tell your friend to pull over.”

  When he suddenly glanced out the window, it made me look.

  The next thing I knew, the guy behind me grabbed my arms and held them back, forcing me to drop the knife.

  The guy on my left had my push dagger in his right hand. He must have pulled it from his friend’s leg when I wasn’t paying attention.

  Sneaky bastard!

  My fangs punched out, and I lunged for the man’s bloody neck.

  He recoiled, shoving me back. “Holy Christ! What the hell is that?”

  Cuffs clicked around my wrists. “We could have done this the easy way,” the guy on the right said, bearing his weight down on me.

  The closer my head got to the other man’s leg, the more I tried to reach to bite him. He all but stood up on his seat, climbing over me to the other side of the cramped cab.

  “Scoot over!” he barked at his friend.

  He shoved me against the left door, leaving me in an awkward position, my arms bound.

  They unzipped my duffel bag, and he said, “Hold her down.”

  When the big guy put his weight across my hips, holding my head against the door with his hand, I thrashed beneath him like a feral animal. My hips screamed in pain, and something felt ready to snap.

  They tied a strip of fabric around my head so that it went between my teeth. Two of my sharpest weapons snagged in the tight weave of a red T-shirt. I could have fought, but what was the point? I’d spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, and I had no one to protect me. I had to look at this as an opportunity I might never have again—to face the man who wanted me dead.

  Beneath the one guy’s crushing weight, the lack of oxygen made me light-headed. I should have never assumed the men had accidentally gotten into the cab. That was my human nature still kicking and alive. Humans rationalized dangerous situations, afraid to react when it might be a misunderstanding.

  And now two hundred and fifty pounds of misunderstanding was squeezing the life out of me in the backseat of a taxicab.

  Christian entered the interior balcony that overlooked Keystone. A heavy mist thickened the air, and had there been a hint of sunshine, he was certain a rainbow would have appeared. He placed his forearms on the stone railing and leaned forward, his gaze chasing a wild rabbit that was scurrying across the lawn. It wasn’t common to see them out in the daytime since they burrowed low to hide from the hawks.

  Maybe the rabbit saw him and recognized Christian for what he was: a predator. A dark soul with black eyes and the instincts of a hunter.

  Killing was a Vampire’s nature—a melody in their blood they could either dance to or ignore. In the early years, Vampires needed that coping mechanism for survival, removing the remorse they would inevitably feel after draining their victims. But this was no longer the Middle Ages; Vampires had long since become civilized in terms of controlling their blood addiction. A youngling’s first years were the most difficult, so their maker needed patience to guide them through the bloodlust. A Vampire occasionally drank blood to uncover information about people, so it was imperative that they learn to control their urges.

  Raven reminded him a lot of himself in the early years. His maker had tried to temper his anger, but Christian was bitter from the mistreatment he’d endured in his human life. The land of opportunity had turned out to be a cesspool filled with poverty and greed. America attracted aristocrats who saw an opportunity to elevate themselves by ensuring the lower class stayed right where they were. Had his maker not been a patient man, there was no telling where Christian would be now.

  His thoughts drifted to Raven. A rogue stood no chance at long-term survival, and those that did were the men Keystone hunted.

  “What are you doing out here?” Blue asked.

  Christian nodded, his gaze fixed on a white cat who seemed to be searching for the rabbit.

  Blue leaned on the railing to his left, her hair pulled up in a messy bun. “It’s a little warmer today. I think the sun’s angry at the clouds.”

  “They can keep bickering for all I care,” he said. Christian’s pupils were fully dilated, which made his eyes permanently black. Over the years, he’d learned to endure the discomfort of bright lights, so sunglasses and cloudy days were a godsend.

  “Today’s her last day,” she continued. “I wonder if Viktor’s having regrets about granting her a favor like this. Someday we might be hunting her, but here we are, showing her the best way to kill us.”

  “I don’t think that’ll be a problem. Raven only hunts criminals.”

  Blue swiped a loose strand of hair away from her face. “I’ve never met a rogue with principles. Have you? Time and experience will wear her down. At least she won’t remember us after you scrub her memory, but what if you miss something and she starts to remember? Maybe you should just clear it all to be on the safe side. The last thing we need is another enemy.”

  “Aye,” he said, recollecting his promise to Raven. A promise that could one day unravel Keystone.

  Blue turned around and pushed herself up so she was sitting on the ledge, facing away from the property. “You’re moody today. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve spent all week on the first floor, probably eavesdropping on Niko and Raven. Am I right? But not today. Instead, you’re up here brooding. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she grew on you a little.”

  “Ah, shut your beak.” He turned his head and gave her a crooked smile. “It’s only been a fortnight since the little tornado swept into our lives, leaving a path of destruction. The sooner she moves on, the better. And don’t think you can rile me up, lass. Women just love to insinuate.” Christian stood up and tucked his hands in his pockets. “Viktor made a mistake thinking he could dust her off and make her shiny as new.”

  Blue crossed her feet at the ankles, her eyes drawn upward. “Isn’t that how he found all of us?”

  “He’s got a good thing here now. He shouldn’t worry so much about bringing in new blood. Seven is a magical number. The seven wonders, seven samurai…”

  “Seven deadly sins,” she added. Blue settled her doe eyes on him. They sparkled like sapphires rimmed in black, so stunning against her brown features. She was more down to earth than Gem—didn’t talk as often and was always trying to please Viktor. “You just don’t want a partner. That’s not how it works, Christian. You can’t drive away every new person he brings in just because you’d rather work alone. It’s not your place to choose your partner; that’s Viktor’s decision.”

  “Would you be saying this if he’d paired you with Shepherd instead of Niko? I’ll not be matched up with a lunatic. Viktor knows my position.”

  “That’s blackmail.”

  He folded his arms, his voice rising an octave. “And how do you see that?”

  Blue hopped off the ledge and dusted off her hands. “Because threatening to leave if he doesn’t find the right match could force him to make different choices. Keystone doesn’t revolve around Christian Poe.”

  He grunted and swaggered toward the door. Blue was colder to him than she was with the rest of the house, just as many were around Vampires. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t try to convince him otherwise when he invited a Vampire into the mix.”

  With his Vampire hearing, he caught the sound of her heart skipping a beat and a slight intake of breath.

  “Who told you a thing like that?” she asked.

  He turned dramatically and bowed. “You did. Just now.”

  Blue squared her shoulders, not revealing her obvious disdain for his abilities. “Then perhaps you sh
ould have a little compassion for the next person, given you know what it feels like to be the outcast. We’re guarded around you, that’s all. It’s nothing personal, I—”

  “Don’t trust my kind,” he finished in a flat tone.

  Her shoulders sagged. “I haven’t always approved of Viktor’s choices, but I’ve never tried to force his hand. I trust him with my life. Do you want to know what really took me by surprise? When he didn’t invite Raven back for another chance after she led us to you. She impressed him, but something tells me that you had an influence on his decision, forcing him to choose between someone he trusts and a rogue with potential.” Blue turned her back on him, loosening her hair from the bun. “Careful what you do with that power, Christian. Someday Viktor might lose his trust in you because of it.”

  Blue strode out the door and left him alone.

  “Women,” he murmured, stalking in the opposite direction.

  He picked up a few wrappers and matchsticks along the way, tossing them into the nearest wastebasket. Shepherd smoked and threw his bloody matches all over the place. Christian had half a mind to glue each one he found to Shepherd’s bedroom door.

  He descended the stairs until he reached the ground floor. It seemed unusually quiet as he approached the stairwell to the underground gym. Christian hadn’t expected to warm up to the little scavenger, but as he reflected upon the past two weeks, he realized that he was going to miss their sarcastic repartee. He’d never much cared for a woman who spoke profanities—although she wasn’t excessive with them—but Raven was different than most of the women he’d known. She was confident, strong, and clever. She didn’t let personal feelings get in the way of what she wanted, and she had better survival skills than some of the most qualified bodyguards he’d met. Christian didn’t look at her as an object of affection, but an equal.

  Or at least he had, until their kiss.

  While her leaping into his arms had taken him by surprise, it wasn’t nearly as startling as his reaction to her walking away. True, a little ego was involved, and when he sensed her indifferent response, he impulsively wanted to do something that would leave her breathless. But the moment he’d felt her body flush against his—Mother of God, the woman hadn’t a clue that her kiss could set Hell on fire.