In the end, she pointed at the intersection up ahead.
“Turn there,” she said, her voice flat, stripped of inflection. “If you want to drive, we’re going to have to take the tunnel.”
She glanced at him, and again he saw the hurt in her eyes.
That time, it gutted him.
That time, he had to fight not to reach for her, maybe to yank her into his lap. Maybe to kiss her, bite her, and/or spank her once she was there.
Before he could go too far into that train of thought, she spoke again.
“We’re going to Queens, Nick,” she said.
Forcing his stare off her jewel-like, aqua blue-green eyes, he nodded.
Without looking at her again, he wrenched the wheel to the left when he reached the intersection, cutting across traffic and hitting the accelerator when the light turned yellow. He straightened the Cougar out on Broadway, heading towards Columbus Circle by the park, and then east across town.
He knew Wynter was right.
He knew that he was in the wrong and she was right.
He just hated it.
He hated it on an irrational, animal-like, purely vampire level.
That same part of him hated every single aspect of her being dragged into this. That part of Nick told him that Malek was hunting her already, that the fucker was dangerous, that St. Maarten was dangerous. That part of Nick was one hundred percent certain St. Maarten would find some way to drag Wynter into her collection of seer assassins, or whatever the fuck they were, if she had the slightest inkling of what Wynter could really do.
At the same time, he knew he wouldn’t fight it.
He knew he wouldn’t.
Worse, he knew the reason he wouldn’t.
It wasn’t solely because Wynter was an adult and he had no right to say shit.
He might tell himself it was that, but it really wasn’t.
The truth was, a different part of Nick wanted her along.
That part screamed in his ear even louder than the part that wanted to dump her off at Grand Central Station on 42nd on his way to the Midtown Tunnel. That part of Nick wanted her with him, and had no interest in the fears and misgivings of the rest of him.
That part of him was a selfish dick, in other words.
He was still scowling, probably driving too fast down 59th towards Fifth Avenue, when Wynter reached out and slid her hand over his thigh.
“Don’t say it,” Nick growled.
“Say what?”
“Don’t tell me to calm down. That it’s going to be okay.”
“Okay,” she said agreeably.
Nick glanced over and Wynter gave him a sideways smile, quirking an eyebrow at him. His eyes flickered over her face, taking in the sharp jaw, the lines of her high cheekbones and lips, the curve of her neck.
Rearranging his hands on the steering wheel, he scowled harder.
“Don’t tell the kid,” he grumbled next. He shifted from third down to second, pulling the Cougar into another hard left turn. “Don’t tell her what you can do. Any of it. Okay?”
“Okay,” Wynter said, equally agreeably.
“I mean it, Wynter.”
“I know you do, Nick. I also know it reassures you weirdly to yell at me about things that you have absolutely no say in.”
Nick glared at her.
When he saw the smile on her lips, he grunted in spite of himself.
He found himself snorting a laugh next, shaking his head.
“Impossible,” he muttered. “You are completely impossible.”
“Try dating you,” she retorted. “Or do you really want to get into what I had to watch via livestream two nights ago, Nick? I don’t just mean the fact that you decapitated another vampire with your broken arm… I mean all of it. Every. Damned. Minute. Every broken bone, Nick. Every time he threw you into that wall.”
Grimacing as she seemed to be thinking about it again, she exhaled angrily.
He glanced over to see her looking out the window, her feet curled under where she sat.
“I would have loved to see you handle that,” she muttered, shaking her head. “I would have loved to see the video of you handling that, Nick… if it was me in that ring.”
He frowned.
For a few seconds, he considered answering, then thought better of it.
As usual, she wasn’t wrong.
Forcing himself to relax, to drop it, he focused on his driving instead, on getting the two of them across Manhattan as fast as he possibly could.
He knew they were probably already too late.
He knew there was a damned good chance they would get there, and not be able to do a damned thing to stop what St. Maarten had put in motion.
Chapter 26
My Mistake
They were here. Wherever here was.
They were at the place Wynter saw in St. Maarten’s mind before Malek forced them to sever the connection.
Nick glanced at Wynter, who was following behind him, moving almost soundlessly.
He was damned glad she’d turned out to be part-ninja, at least in the way she moved. He could honestly say he’d never come across a human who could move so silently, so completely inconspicuously on their own.
Then again, she wasn’t really human, was she?
Frowning at the thought, he looked her over in his coat, which he’d given her to wear over the dark red pants and pale cream shirt she wore. The pants looked almost black in the dark street, but the shirt was too visible, so he took off his coat and held it out to her.
“You should wear this,” he said. “Over your clothes.”
She was staring at him though, looking at his chest, and his waist.
“You don’t have a gun,” she said, clearly realizing that for the first time. “Nick. Why didn’t we grab your gun when we were at your apartment?” She looked back at his car, which they’d just left parked in the shadows. “Do you have one in there?”
He looked at her, frowning. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Why?” he said, exasperated. “I’m a vampire. Remember?”
“So is this Raphael Molony guy,” she pointed out. “What good is being a vampire against another vampire? Especially when you’re injured? Especially when he’s another fighter?”
“What good is a gun against a vampire?” Nick said back.
At her silence, he scowled, holding his coat out to her a second time.
“Just put it on. Please. I don’t give a fuck about Molony. I’m here for the kid.”
Thinking about his words, she nodded slowly.
“True,” she conceded. “Okay.”
He could feel she was nervous. He could feel it even then.
He could feel it even more now.
Weirdly, it was easier for him to focus on her nervousness for him than it was to focus on his nervousness for her.
Moreover, he agreed with her.
He should have figured out some way to get his gun back.
Truthfully, he wasn’t even sure where his gun was.
As a Midnight, he only had one, and technically it belonged to the I.S.F. They could have confiscated it at any point over the last few weeks, but for some reason, they hadn’t. As for right now, there was a damned good chance it was at the fighting pit, or back at the precinct, assuming someone from Farlucci’s team turned it in after the fight, while Nick was in recovery.
Clearly it hadn’t made it with him to the Archangel hospital in Harlem.
He’d definitely been wearing it before the fight.
Frowning about that now, he wondered if Molony even had anything to do with the vampire killings. Nick had more or less led Tai to him, but he had zero to go on, in terms of actual evidence. He hadn’t even been conscious when Tai pulled the identity of the vampire off him. At that point, Nick hadn’t even known the guy’s name.
He had to hope Archangel and Tai were acting from that perspective, too.
Meaning, he had to hope they’d obtain so
me actual evidence first––before they rushed in there and just blew the guy’s brains out, vampire or no. He had to hope they would at least make an attempt to verify that Molony was actually involved.
Of course, in thinking all that, he’d forgotten something crucial.
He’d forgotten something a seer told him long ago.
Something that really would have been good to remember about now.
That seer told him when you thought loudly enough about a seer––any seer who could actually read you, that is––you were more or less calling out their name in the psychic space. Most of the time, Nick hadn’t had to remember that.
Most seers couldn’t read vampires, so it wasn’t an issue.
Tai wasn’t most seers.
Nick?
Her soft, painfully young-sounding voice rose in Nick’s mind.
Coming to a dead stop, he grimaced.
Then, realizing what he’d done, he cursed under his breath.
“Nick?” Wynter. A bare whisper. She touched his arm. “What’s wrong?”
Not quite looking at her, he scowled.
He wished he could use sign language with her. Instead, he pointed to his own head. At the same time, he answered the voice in his mind.
Hey, kid, he thought at Tai. You out here?
Nick… you shouldn’t be here.
“Nick,” Wynter said, still whispering, only a tiny bit louder that time. “What is it? What’s happening?”
Glancing at her, he pointed at his head a second time.
“Tai,” he mouthed. “The kid.”
Nick? Tai’s thoughts changed, now tinged with a faint color of alarm. Nick, did you bring Ms. James here? She sounded bewildered. Why would you do that? Why would you bring her out here? Aren’t you worried she’s going to get hurt?
Yeah, Nick thought grimly. Yeah, kid. I’m worried she’s going to get hurt.
Those weren’t the words he aimed at Tai, though.
Without doing it consciously, he’d started compartmentalizing his thoughts, just like he’d been trained to do all those years ago, at the start of the seer wars.
She was worried about you, Nick thought at Tai, still locking his more private thoughts in a different, quieter part of his mind.
He gazed ahead through the dark with his vampire eyes, focusing on the small brick house in the shadow of a nearby warehouse. He looked for any hint of movement inside, any sense of which part of the one-story building they occupied.
He saw lights on all over the building, shining through all the windows he could see.
No shadows moved past them, no flickers or changes that might give him an indication of what part of the house they occupied, or even how many of them there might be.
…Both of us are worried, kid, he added, moving cautiously forward again, feeling Wynter hugging the shadows behind him. Ms. James wanted to come with me. She wanted to make sure you were okay.
Nick glanced at Wynter.
She was watching him minutely.
He could hear her heart beating inside her chest.
Ms. James wants to take you back to school, Nick added to Tai. How about that? How about you come with us? Whoever you’ve got in there, I’m sure you’ve scared them plenty already––
I can’t do that, Nick. I’m sorry. I can’t.
Nick hesitated.
He wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to his next question.
Hey, kid–– he began.
I haven’t killed him yet, Tai thought at him, matter of fact. They’re questioning him right now. They’re asking him about his brothers. They’re asking, and I’m reading him, but he’s pretty good at keeping me out. I’ve noticed you’ve been getting better at that too, Nick. Even right now, I can’t feel everything you’re thinking––
Brothers? Nick cut in.
The other two, Tai sent, her thoughts patient. Like your vampire friend said. Your sire. That’s what you called him, right? There’s three of them, Nick. Three brothers.
Three brothers? Vampires? Are all three of them vampires, Tai?
I don’t know. Maybe. He’s good at keeping me out––
Get out of there, he thought at her, letting her feel his anger that time. Don’t do this. Whatever your brother told you, or Ms. St. Maarten––
They didn’t tell me this, Nick. Tai sounded genuinely surprised. I wanted to do this. I wanted to help you. I wanted to keep you safe.
Nick frowned, glancing at Wynter again.
That’s sweet, kid. Really. It’s really sweet. But this isn’t right. You shouldn’t be doing this. Not for me. Not for anyone. This isn’t a path you want to walk down… believe me.
He paused, but she didn’t answer.
His jaw firming, Nick tried again.
Anyway, whatever evidence you may think you have to the contrary, I really don’t need you to do this for me, Tai. Promise. I can take care of myself, okay?
At her silence, he frowned again, wishing he had his damned gun.
Why don’t you leave with Wynter? he thought at her next. I’ll stay with St. Maarten’s people. I can handle the vampires. Okay? Why don’t we do that?
No, Nick. Tai sounded almost sad. No.
Nick glanced at Wynter, fighting an impulse to grab her hand.
Something in Tai’s tone that time worried him.
Wynter was watching his face minutely, puzzlement and worry in her own face as she hovered by his hurt arm, the one still wrapped in a cast. Nick looked ahead of where they walked, focusing again on the one-story brick building sandwiched between two larger warehouses.
Rapheal Molony had an address listed here.
St. Maarten got it off Farlucci’s people, using Tai.
And probably Malek.
Nick… you shouldn’t be here, Tai thought at him again. She sounded frantic now. I don’t want to, but I’ll have to stop you, if you come any closer.
Stop me? Nick glanced at Wynter. Are you threatening me, kid?
Tai’s thoughts wavered.
Nick could swear he saw her face in the dark behind his eyes.
He saw tears in those silver-blue, ice-like eyes.
Don’t make me stop you, Nick. Please.
I could say the same to you, kid, Nick thought back. Would you really hurt me? When I’m here to help you? When I’m only here because I care about you?
I won’t hurt you, she said. I’ll just stop you.
In Nick’s mind, he saw her small jaw firm.
He saw her fold her arms, staring at him stubbornly.
Take Ms. James, Nick. Take her and go. I’ll come see you at her house when we’re done here. It’s too dangerous for you to stay here. I don’t mean the vampires. I mean Ms. St. Maarten’s people. She’s really mad that you’re here. They already have drones on you. I’m worried if you get any closer, they’ll hurt you, Nick.
Feeling his mind pushing back, she burst out louder, more frustrated.
I can handle this, Nick! GO! GO AWAY!
Her thoughts were loud that time.
Loud enough to hurt.
Loud enough to make him physically wince.
Loud enough to make him nervous.
NICK! Her thoughts rippled through him that time, trembling something inside his skull, something that felt nearly physical. That time, they didn’t just hurt a little. They hurt a lot. They hurt enough that his chest clenched, even as he held his hands up to his ears in instinct.
GO NICK! YOU NEED TO GO RIGHT NOW! TAKE MS. JAMES AND GO!
Nick grimaced, pressing his hands harder against his ears.
It didn’t do any good.
She wasn’t in his ears.
She was inside his head.
He could feel the power there.
He comprehended that power instinctively, without understanding it rationally in any way. It raised the hairs on his arms, the back of his neck, tensing his muscles, throwing him into fight or flight, even as it caused him to step closer to Wynter, like a wolf in front of its mate.
He held his ground, though.
Despite everything he felt, at a base, instinctive level, he held his ground, refusing to retreat from her mind, or even from her thoughts.
When that psychic wind calmed, when that heat finished passing through him, he thought back at her, soft.
What if I want to be here? he sent. What if I want to stay, to make sure you’re okay?
There was a silence.
Again, he saw those ice-blue eyes.
Again, he saw tears in them.
I’m okay, she thought at him. I’m okay, Nick.
You’re not all right, he sent back. This isn’t right, kid. Nothing about this is right.
I owe you, Nick. And this was my mistake. I did this.
Your mistake? Nick frowned. How do you figure, kid?
I let one of them go, she thought at him, shame and grief clouding her thoughts. In the warehouse. When they took you. I let one of them go… and now I think he was probably one of the three. I think he’s their leader. They wouldn’t have hurt you in that fight if I hadn’t let him go. I locked him in the freezer, but I should have killed him. Like the others…
Nick’s mind spun around that.
The warehouse.
Of course.
She was the operative Brick talked about, only Brick assumed she’d killed the third brother. She was the weapon Charlie told him about, too––the weapon that confused the cops, that the coroner couldn’t explain. Tai was that weapon. She’d done that to the two humans they found in the walk-in cooler in Queens.
Listen to me, Nick sent. You need to hear me on this, Tai. None of this is your fault, okay? None of it. Not a single solitary speck of it. You’re just a kid, all right? Whatever you’ve done, it’s not your fault––
I killed my parents, she burst out.
Nick’s teeth clenched.
He grappled with her words, with the intensity of emotion behind them. He barely noticed when he reached back, catching hold of Wynter’s hand with his. He squeezed her fingers, pulling her closer to him.
You’re just a kid, Tai–– he began.
It’s not Mal’s fault, she thought at him, louder again, loud enough to make him wince. I know you think it is, but it’s not. He’s been helping me, Nick. Him and Ms. St. Maarten. They’ve been helping me. They’ve been teaching me how to control it. I haven’t killed anyone on accident in ages––
Eyes of Ice Page 31
