Midnight's Kiss

by Thea Harrison

  “Yeah, I figured that part out for myself,” Melly muttered.

  Justine dug into Julian’s jeans to withdraw his cell phone. Dropping it on the floor, she ground it underneath one heel. Then, faster than Melly could track, Justine lashed out.

  Ribbons of Julian’s T-shirt drifted to the ground, revealing his heavily muscled, scarred chest and arms.

  Justine told him in a quiet voice, “I like breaking things. It’s always been my way, and I’m going to especially enjoy breaking you. You’re dictatorial and arrogant, and inflexible, and you’ve been a pain in my ass for too many years. I’m going to tear you down until there’s nothing of you left, and then I’m going to train you to be my pet.”

  Julian gave her a cold, bored look. “You’re delusional.”

  Her voice gentled. “Just wait, you’ll see. But before I destroy your mind, first I’m going to hurt you a lot. I want you to be fully aware, so you realize what’s being done to you, and you know that it’s me who is doing it. And you’re going to let me, because if you don’t, I’ll carve something off of Melly while you watch. She’s got lots of bits she can lose before she dies. A thumb, a breast, an ear or her nose. Even her hands and feet.”

  “Please,” Melly whispered. “Don’t do this. Justine, there has to be something you want more than this. What is it? Tell me what it is, and I’ll see that you get it. I swear I will – I swear it.”

  The Vampyre didn’t even glance at her. “There’s nothing I want more than this.”

  Justine struck again, and Melly muffled a moan against the heel of one palm as long red cuts appeared on Julian’s muscled arms and chest. A roil of nausea twisted in her gut. Leaning her head against the cold bars, she breathed evenly to make it go away. This leisurely sadism was so much worse than anything she could have imagined.

  As Justine ran the tip of her knife along his abdomen, Julian’s sharp, steady gaze met Melly’s.

  He said telepathically, Don’t watch.

  I have to, she whispered. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be here.

  Don’t be stupid, he said. Justine’s the one who is responsible, not you. She’s the reason why we’re both here. Goddammit, Melly, turn the fuck away.

  I can’t.

  Justine cut him again and again, and Melly clapped her own hand over her mouth to muffle a sob. Each movement was drawn out, until the torture seemed to go on for hours.

  “That ought to do it,” Justine said finally. Taking a step back, she licked her knife clean. She made a sound of pleasure. “All the blood oaths you’ve taken as King have made your blood really potent. I hadn’t realized just how Powerful you had become.”

  Dread pulsed a rapid tempo in Melly’s veins. Ought to do what?

  Julian must have been wondering the same thing, for he watched Justine with a sharp, wary expression. He said in a mocking voice, “Is that all you’ve got?”

  Was he insane? Melly shouted at him, Don’t goad her!

  Justine laughed. “Oh, I’m not done with you, darling. I’m only just getting started. That was just to get the scent of your fresh blood in the air.” Raising her voice, she called out, “Open up the gate!”

  As Julian’s frowning gaze met Melly’s again, a metallic clang sounded from down the tunnel, and moments later, Vampyre Guy appeared. Julian’s fangs sprang out, and he snarled at the other male.

  Despite Julian being in chains, the sight of his full, naked aggression was so overpowering, Melly took a step back from the bars. Vampyre Guy pretended to be unaffected, but she noticed he was careful to keep Justine’s body between him and Julian.

  Followed closely by Vampyre Guy, Justine left Julian’s cell and propped the door open wide. Then the two Vampyres walked into one of the empty cells. After Justine closed the door and locked it, she pulled something slender out of her pocket and put one end in her mouth.

  A high-pitched, piercing whistle speared through the air.

  “Oh gods, no,” Melly whispered.

  Snarling came from down the tunnel, along with the sound of running footsteps.

  Many footsteps.

  She flung herself against the bars, shouting, “No!”

  Ferals flooded the tunnel. Some lunged toward her, forcing her to leap back again. Others found their way through the open cell door. Over the tops of the ferals’ heads, Melly caught a glimpse of them on the inside of the bars in Julian’s cell.

  She couldn’t see anything else, but she could hear things all too well.

  An explosive snarling that gradually quieted.

  Then that shuffling, or scraping sound she had first heard, as the Vampyres fed.

  Five

  A

  fter what seemed a hellish eternity, the whistle sounded.

  Melly had moved to crouch in her corner, behind the cot, where she rocked with her hands cupped over her ears, but even though it muffled the sounds somewhat, the whistle still penetrated. Pushing to her feet, she turned to watch the crowd of ferals.

  This time, they were slow to respond. The whistle sounded again, sharp and piercing, and something cracked the air. It sounded like a whip.

  Growling, the ferals retreated. As Justine appeared, Melly realized the other woman actually did have a whip. Once again, Justine cracked the whip across the ferals nearest to her, and they cowered away.

  If Justine had really been the one to create the ferals, Melly could almost feel sorry for them.

  Almost.

  That was until she looked across to Julian’s cell and sickened rage replaced all other emotion.

  He hung limp in the chains, his head hanging forward and his powerful body bloody and lax. Wiping at her wet cheeks, she said, Julian? Please say something.

  He didn’t answer.

  Her eyes kept watering and obscuring her vision. He couldn’t be dead. If he were dead, he would collapse into dust. There would be nothing left of him at all. Nobody to rage against. Nothing but the memory of the brief, bright warmth they had shared followed by years of bitterness.

  Unable to maintain any anger toward him in the face of this horrible nightmare, she was left feeling a sharp pain and a sadness so dark it threatened to engulf her.

  Justine and Vampyre Guy followed the ferals down the tunnel, and the sound of an iron clang rang against the stony walls. Moments later, they reappeared. They must have shut the gate to the tunnel again.

  Fixing her gaze on Julian, Justine said to Vampyre Guy, “Clean up this mess.”

  Ducking his head, he got to work, packing up the laptop and various items.

  As Justine went into Julian’s cell, Melly said hoarsely, “Haven’t you done enough for one visit?”

  “Maybe I have. Maybe not.”

  “Leave him alone!”

  Justine lifted Julian’s head to look into his unconscious face. She let his head fall again. “Oh, very well. They drained him pretty deeply. He’ll need time to recover enough so I can do it again.”

  In that moment, Melly had never hated anybody as much as she hated Justine.

  She forced herself to take deep, even breaths and think more or less logically. The torture session was over, at least for now, and the sooner Justine and Vampyre Guy left, the sooner she could pick her way out of her own cell and help Julian.

  But she was feeling shaky from lack of proper food, too much stress and not enough rest. How much blood could she give Julian when she was like this? While she did have a little of her food stash left, a candy bar and the small bag of nuts, this situation was desperately unstable, and she needed to hold on to as many of her meager resources as she could.

  She said, “If you’re going to keep me alive, I’m going to need more food and water.”

  Justine stepped out of Julian’s cell, locked the door and swiveled to consider her. “I had forgotten about that. You have a point.” As she paused thoughtfully, Melly held her breath. “And no, I don’t want to get rid of you just yet. Not only have you proved useful for making Julian toe the line, but keeping yo
u alive might prove useful in other ways as well.”

  What other ways? Melly’s mind clicked into overdrive. Could Justine be planning on somehow using her against her mother?

  Justine turned to Vampyre Guy. “Once you get this cleared up, see that you bring her more food and water.”

  “Real food,” Melly interjected. “Not that useless gas station crap you brought the last time. And I need more batteries for the flashlight.”

  Raising one eyebrow, Justine gave her a sardonic look. “Listen to you, getting all demanding.”

  Lifting her chin, Melly stared back unwaveringly. “Do you want me alive or not? If you do, I need real food and water, not a candy bar here and there. And you know as well as I do that I don’t need the flashlight to survive, but I would appreciate it. Please.”

  A long moment passed as the Vampyre considered her with a cold, assessing gaze. Then Justine smiled. “A ‘please,’ no less. It didn’t take long for you to learn how to sit up and beg. Maybe you’re not quite as stupid as I thought. Or at least you’re trainable.” She said to Vampyre Guy, “I think it will be so touching if she and Julian can gaze at each other from their prison cells. Be sure to bring her real food, water and more batteries. You and I have a lot to do, so make sure she has enough to last her for a couple of days. I’m not sure when we’ll make it back down here.”

  “Yes, mistress,” said Vampyre Guy.

  “The dogs are sated for now, but Julian’s blood will have made them faster and stronger,” Justine told him. “Be careful when you return and make sure you bring them plenty of food to keep them busy.”

  So that was how she kept the feral Vampyres cooperative. As Melly thought of the people they had been feeding on when she had first discovered them, she felt sickened all over again.

  Vampyre Guy glanced over his shoulder toward the gate. His eyes were wide, and he looked none too happy at the thought of returning alone. “Are you sure you won’t come back with me? They’re afraid of you, and they’re easier to manage when you’re here.”

  Justine gave him an impatient look. “Grow a pair and deal with it. Right now I have more important things to do than hold your hand.”

  He ducked his head. “Yes, mistress.”

  Justine strode away. Down the tunnel, the iron gate creaked and clanged again. Melly listened to her footsteps recede in the distance while she watched Vampyre Guy get back to work. It didn’t take him long to finish packing up.

  She glanced at Julian. He still hadn’t stirred. Stifling her worry, she leaned a shoulder against one of the bars and said to Vampyre Guy, “She’s not very nice to you, is she?”

  He snapped, “She’s my sire. She doesn’t have to be nice.”

  She shrugged. “I get it. She tells you what to do, and you have to do it. Still, a little appreciation would be nice, wouldn’t it? I mean, you’re clearly carrying most of the load here, aren’t you?”

  Vampyre Guy gave her a scathing look. “What do you care?”

  That was her cue to call on what acting skills she had. Melly turned her full attention onto him, met his gaze and gave him a slow smile. The Light Fae were a charismatic people, which was one of the reasons why they thrived so well in the entertainment industry, and Melly had more than her fair share of the attribute.

  She watched him blink rapidly as the impact hit him. Yeah, she thought, I might never win no Oscars, but I still got something, babe.

  She told him in a soft, sincere voice, “When I asked for more food and water, I didn’t realize it might put you in danger. I’m awfully sorry.”

  With an obvious effort, he dragged his gaze away from hers. “You didn’t know,” he muttered. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Still,” she said, “It’s really good of you to get it. I – I can’t imagine how dangerous those Vampyres are, or how hard it is to deal with them.”

  He jerked a shoulder as if to shrug off her words, but after a moment, he said almost grudgingly, “You’ve got to keep on your toes with them, and know how to respond if they don’t behave on command. If I didn’t have such fast reflexes and upper body strength, I wouldn’t be able to do it.”

  Melly widened her eyes and let the expression turn melting – just a little. Not too much, too soon. After all, they were on opposite sides of the cell bars, and she didn’t want to lose his credulity.

  She told him, “Well, I don’t know how you do it. They scare me to death. I haven’t been able to rest at all with them snarling and clawing at me between the bars. Can you leave the gate closed when you go?”

  He finished collecting the gear in a pack and hoisted it onto his shoulder, picked up the camping lantern, then turned to her. “I’m supposed to let them loose in here while I’m gone, but it’s not like you can break out of your cell anyway.”

  Quickly she switched her melting look into a more helpless expression as she shook her head. “No, I can’t, can I?”

  He tilted his head and jerked his chin toward the direction Justine had disappeared. “I’ll lock the gate so they won’t bother you too much.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, holding out a hand toward him – again, not too much, just a brief flutter of fingers before she dropped them again.

  Vampyre Guy took a step toward her. She didn’t think he was even aware of doing it. “So, I guess I’m out of the habit of buying food. Is there anything you want?”

  Oh for crying out loud, now she had to go and wonder…

  Is he one of Justine’s victims too, or an asshole? Or is he a victim who also happened to be an asshole? Or am I starting to suffer from a dose of Stockholm Syndrome?

  The dial on her people-reading meter hovered somewhere in the uncertain zone.

  “I’d kill for a chicken sandwich,” she said, giving him a small smile. “And some cheese and fruit, please. Maybe some granola? Oh, and just so you know – I didn’t mean to put down the candy you brought. The chocolate bars were really terrific. They just aren’t enough sustenance.”

  Her sharp gaze picked up how he straightened under the praise.

  “I can pick up more chocolate,” he said. “It’ll be a little while before I can get back. Not only do I have to go to the store, but I have to hunt down some people to throw to the wolves to keep them occupied while I come back down here.”

  The utter lack of remorse or any true feeling with which Vampyre Guy said it sent her dial swinging deeply into the red. Victim or not, he was an asshole. She lost all compunction for manipulating and/or staking him if the situation called for it.

  Instantly, she clamped down on her self-control and kept her expression soft and sweet.

  Possibly even, dare she say it, a touch poodle-like.

  “I appreciate you telling me,” she told him. “Be careful.”

  He swaggered a little. “No problem. I got it covered.”

  Melly’s thoughts raced. Maybe she had accomplished enough in one conversation, and maybe anything else would be pushing too far, but —

  Her gaze flicked to Julian. He was still so silent as he hung limp in his chains.

  They were in a hot mess. Not only that, it felt deeply unstable, like their situation might change on a whim. On her next visit, Justine might decide it wasn’t worth keeping either Melly or Julian alive, and she might kill them both.

  So now was the time to push, even if Melly went too far, because they had nothing left to lose and potentially everything to gain.

  And while Justine might not want anything more than Melly locked up and Julian in chains, it was possible that Vampyre Guy might want any other number of things a lot more than his current situation.

  Immunity from prosecution. Money. An easy life.

  Freedom from Justine?

  “What’s your name?” she asked Vampyre Guy.

  His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  Lifting one corner of her mouth in a lopsided smile, she told him, “Because I don’t want to keep calling you Vampyre Guy.”

  He paused to search her face
. “Anthony.”

  “Anthony,” she said. “Okay listen, Anthony. You don’t have a choice when your sire gives you a direct order, and I just want you to know, I don’t hold any of this against you. In fact, I think that’s even a viable legal defense, at least here in California, isn’t it?”

  Going still, he watched her with hooded eyes and an impassive expression. “What’s your point?”

  Melly raised an eyebrow. “I understand you have to do what you need to in order to survive, but while you’re running errands, you might want to think about something. Did Justine ever give you a direct order to never call the Light Fae Queen? The fabulously rich, powerful Light Fae Queen, who would be incredibly grateful for any tips leading to the rescue of her daughter?”

  Anthony’s lip curled. “You think I would risk my life like that?”

  While he tried to sound scoffing, Melly’s people-reading meter said he ended up sounding uncertain instead.

  “You have a rare opportunity right now,” she told him. “Not many people get a chance like this in their lifetime. You could ask for anything, and my mom would gladly give it to you. The sky is the limit. One quick phone call from you, and this could all be over in a matter of hours. She could protect you from Justine, give you legal immunity and make you rich.”

  “You want me to betray my sire,” he whispered. “My very dangerous sire.”

  “You know, my mom is really dangerous too,” she pointed out. “Not only is she wealthy, but she also has strong political ties all over the world, especially with the Demonkind. She has her own private army, access to the best magical users, and I’m pretty sure she might have invented the word vendetta. I guarantee you – she’s never going to give up trying to find out what happened to me. And the more time that passes, the greater the chances are that Justine’s going to slip up and give something away. Either that or my mom will uncover evidence that will lead to her.”