Everdark

by Elle Jasper

  “Do you have to keep your last appointment?” he said silkily.

  I didn’t answer. Instead, I slowly poked a French fry into my mouth and chewed; another followed. After I’d drained every drop of tea and eaten every single French fry, in total silence and extreme scrutiny, I inhaled deeply.

  Eli reached over, grabbed my cup and wrappers, tossed them into the trash can beside the bench, then pulled me into a crushing hug. With strong arms, he embraced me.

  “It’s been less than forty-eight hours, but I missed the hell out of you,” he said, his mouth against my temple. My arms went around him, and he pulled me closer.

  “Forty-eight hours? I hadn’t even noticed you were gone,” I said against his throat, my voice muffled.

  I felt his chest rumble as he laughed. He pulled back, took off his shades, and stared down at me. The shocking blue intensity caused another shiver within me. “We’ve things to discuss.”

  I nodded. “After my appointment. I can’t get into the habit of ducking out on my clients, Eli.”

  With a heavy-lidded gaze, he regarded me. “Is it a big tat, or a little one?”

  I grinned. “Medium. Shouldn’t take longer than an hour.”

  In silence, he lowered his head to kiss me, but I covered my mouth. “Stop! Reuben with slaw. Gross.”

  Eli merely smiled.

  “Hey, Riley. Eli, right? What’s up?”

  I turned and shaded my eyes. Mullet Morrison stood, grinning, his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets. I smiled. “Hey, Mullet-Man. What’s up?”

  Eli stuck his hand out and the two shook. “Mullet.”

  Mullet shrugged, glanced over his shoulder, and looked back at me. “Just hangin’ out until Tiff finishes shoppin’ in the SoHo. She’s in there picking out a dress or something. So how’s life?”

  I nodded. “Interesting as always. You?” Eli sat silent beside me, his arm possessively around my shoulders.

  Mullet nodded. “Sweet, sweet. Hey—Tiff wants some ink. I told her we’d come by next week maybe. Is that cool?”

  Before vampires, I could have said yes with assuredness. Now? I had no freaking idea what I’d be doing next week. Hopefully, all the chaos in Charleston would be over. “Yeah, sure. Just have her call the shop and I’ll work her in. Does she know what she wants?”

  Mullet scratched his jaw. “Yeah, I think she wants a Japanese koi fish along here.” He stretched and pointed to his side. “Pretty sick, huh?”

  I grinned. “Sounds cool. Tell her to give me a call.”

  He stuck his fist out and bumped mine. “Sweet. Later, Riley. Eli. Oh, hey—did you hear about the murders in Charleston?”

  My insides froze at the mention of them. “Heard something about a body being found at the pineapple fountain. Why?”

  Mullet peered at me. “You know, my cousin’s on the police force, and he says there’s been like, nine murders there over the past few weeks. Some pretty sick shit, from what Kelly says. Freaky, huh? They think it might be a serial killer or some crazy psychopath. I hope to hell they don’t come south.”

  “Yeah,” I answered. “Me, too.”

  “Right—later then,” he said, and turned to leave. “Lock your doors, Riley.”

  “Yep,” I answered, and watched him saunter off. “Cool guy, Mullet. I hope he never has to know the things I know—especially that it doesn’t matter how many cops are on the Charleston case, they won’t catch the killer; rather, killers.” I looked at Eli. “There has to be more than one vampire working the streets. Nine murders, Eli.”

  Eli’s expression was tight. “And those are only the ones they’ve discovered.”

  Pulling the cell out of my pack, I glanced at the time. I still had thirty minutes until my next appointment.

  “I have to speak with Papa,” Eli said, rising. I followed. “We’ve apparently got visitors. I’ll meet you back here in a couple of hours to pick you up, oui?”

  I loved it when Eli occasionally threw in an unexpected French word. It was sexy as hell.

  He grinned.

  “Yeah, that’s cool,” I said. And before I could stop him, he grasped my jaw with one hand and pulled my mouth to his. He kissed me, Reuben, slaw, fries, and all, and it left me breathless and wanting to peel his clothes off right there on the riverfront to have my way with him.

  He kissed my ear and whispered, “Later. I promise.”

  I watched him slide his shades back onto his face and saunter away. He disappeared between two buildings. Shading my eyes with my hand, I glanced in the direction of Inksomnia, gauged the distance of walk time, and took off at a brisk pace. It still amazed me how fast a speed I could manage in a pair of spiked heels.

  Eli was home! God Almighty, I’d missed him. Yeah, in less than forty-eight hours, I’d missed him. I was anxious to hear what he’d found out, and anxious for other things, too. I crossed the cobbles to the storefront side, cut up and through the steep stairway alley between two stores, and emerged onto Factors Walk. Crossing the parking lane, I managed my way through relatively few tourists to Bay Street, and turned right. I’d just passed the Cotton Exchange building when the smell hit me. It was so strong, pungent, that I stopped and looked around. There was nothing but tourists, cars, parking meters, and locals walking the sidewalk—nothing out of the ordinary. A young guy wearing a dark gray suit and carrying a briefcase bumped into me.

  “Sorry,” he said, then stared at my arms, then my breasts. He smiled and turned back up the walk.

  I felt unsettled. I didn’t like it.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I caught the scent again, and, concentrating, closing out all other scents of the city, I zeroed in on this one in particular. It was sharp, almost spicy-hot, reminding me of wasabi sauce, and something else undefined. It was a scent unlike anything I’d ever inhaled, and I’d inhaled a lot of stuff in my youth. I could almost taste it in my mouth. I turned and followed it, slightly amused by my weird, wolfish tendency. I crossed Bay Street onto Drayton and continued up the sidewalk. I weaved in and out of passersby, the scent drawing me into, of course, an empty alley. I stood there, staring at the aged brick walls, the ferns growing between the mortar, the rusty drainpipes running from the rooftop to the lane. I opened my hearing, just a fraction, and listened closely to the abundance of sounds around me, trying to pick through to see if anything felt stranger than usual. It wasn’t easy. So many sounds—voices, a toilet flushing, car stereos, a rapid-fire heartbeat that was so fast it could be nothing else but a mouse. I moved toward the single door in the alley, the scent growing stronger.

  I never made it.

  My body was slammed, face-first, into the brick wall, my arms grabbed and jacked halfway up my back. Unknown hands—they felt male—patted me down the length of my legs and back up, between my thighs. In the next second, one of those hands slipped inside my low waistband, retrieving the blade I had stashed there against my hip. I jerked, struggled; I was again slammed.

  “Fuck!” I growled, wondering why in hell my strength didn’t seem very strong at all. “What do you want?” I said, finding it difficult to speak since my face was shoved against brick.

  “That all the silver you’re packin’?” the voice said behind me, close to my ear. “Or you got it hidden in places I can’t find without a little diggin’?” He laughed. “Not that I’d mind, babe. Your call.”

  “That’s it—that’s all I got,” I ground out. I gathered my strength; I felt it growing inside me from my toes upward. I elbowed my attacker, spun around, kneed his groin, and as he staggered back I swept his ankles. He hit the pavement with a thud. I pressed the heel of my boot at his throat.

  He grinned. Sexy. Smug. “Not bad. Luc told me you were good.”

  I looked at him. He gently lifted a hand and moved my heel from his throat, then leapt up. He regarded me closely, as I did him.

  Standing at approximately my height, my attacker wore skinny ripped jeans, chunky boots, a black ripped T-shirt, and had a headful of light brown and
sunbleached dreads, pulled back at the nape of his neck. He wasn’t overly muscular, but he was lean and strong as shit. Porcelain skin—all except for a silver scar that shot out of one eyebrow—full lips, and the strangest mercury-colored eyes I’d ever seen. I stiffened. Realization kicked me in the gut.

  Vampire.

  A slow smile, revealing perfect, blindingly white teeth, stretched across his perfect face. “Ah, got a brain to go with the beauty, I see,” he drawled, and it was then I noticed the defined Charleston drawl. “Sweet. Eli’s one lucky fuck.” Well, minus the gang slang.

  I frowned. This guy—vamp—knew Eli. “Who are you and what the hell do you want?” I said, and rubbed my forehead. Luckily, there was no blood. “And what’s that smell?” I glanced at his hand wrapped around my blade. “Give me my silver back.”

  “Uh, that’d be a no, babe,” he said, then inclined his head toward Drayton. “No matter how fine you are, or how much Dupré swears how trustworthy you are, I’ll make that judgment call myself.” He nodded again and pulled on a pair of dark shades. “Come on. We walk. I’ll talk.” He peered at me over the tops of his glasses. “I didn’t hurt ya, did I? Eli said you were tough. He’d kick my ass if he thought I hurt you.”

  The image of me, kneeing Eli in the nuts for putting me through a test, made me almost smile. “Name.”

  The dreadlocked vampire laughed. “Yeah. Right.” He stuck out his hand. “Noah Miles.”

  I was totally confused, but I grabbed his hand and squeezed hard. “Well, Noah Miles, what the hell is this all about?”

  Noah rubbed his chin, laughed, and shook his head. We left the alley and started up Drayton. “I called Eli a few hours ago. Shit’s hittin’ the fan in Charles Town, and he said you and the Duprés, and some others, are headed that way to help out.” He glanced at me over the tops of his shades again, those silver eyes boring into mine. “He wanted me to check you out, make sure you were up to it.”

  “Well, I didn’t do such a good job with my face smashed into the bricks and mortar,” I said. This was the company Eli was referring to, apparently.

  He laughed. “You did fine. And yeah, we’re the company. Me and a few of my guys.”

  I walked without looking at him. “You had my blade in seconds.”

  Noah leaned close and bumped my shoulder. “That’s because I’m good, sweetheart. Besides, you had only one blade stashed on you. You probably would have stuck me, had you had another one. Besides, you had me on the ground and at your mercy in seconds. Pretty impressive.” He regarded my arms, then my cheek. “Sweet tats, by the way. I’ve heard about you.”

  “Oh, really? You’ve heard of my artistic talents as well as my ass-kicking talents? That’s great.” I glowered at him. Although I hated to admit it—I liked him. “So, Noah. How long have you been dead?”

  He looked at me as we walked, and a somber expression crossed his features for a split second. “A long time, babe. Since the war.”

  “Which war?” I asked.

  “England vs. America, darlin’.”

  I considered that. It was a long damn time to walk the earth. We walked up behind a small crowd waiting to cross Bay Street, and I looked at my new companion. “So, Eli sent you all the way to Savannah just for you to shove my face into a brick wall, feel me up, shove your hand down my pants, and pinch my blade? That’s it? I passed the test?” The fact that Eli knew all that while kissing me senseless irritated me.

  In front of us, an elderly woman wearing a floppy straw hat turned around and regarded us over the tops of her very large white plastic sunglasses. I smiled. She glanced at my arms, her silver brows shot up, and she turned back around.

  Noah grinned at me. “Nope. That was my own test. And yeah—you passed,” he said. “After talking with Eli this morning, I was told I had to bring a small group of my guys with me, ask permission from Preacher, as well as Monsieur Dupré, then set a game plan.” We started to move with the crowd. “You must be pretty freaking important, darlin’.”

  I didn’t answer. How could I? I didn’t understand any of it myself. We stepped onto the sidewalk on the other side of Bay, hit Factors Walk, and walked the cobbles down to the riverfront. I stopped. Noah stopped and regarded me. “You already know I have potent blood?” I asked. I didn’t want to look like the cartoon pork chop running around on legs any more than I had to.

  “Hell yeah. We all do.” He grinned. “Always have. We’re governed by the Gullah-Gullah, too, don’t forget. Pact and all, just like Savannah.” He leaned over and sniffed me. “Barely noticeable at all anymore, babe. No worries. Although there is something else funky in there.” He sniffed again, and I swatted him away.

  “Two strigoi,” I offered. “So don’t piss me off.”

  “Day-yamn,” he said, dragging the word out with his drawl, admiration noticeably in his voice. “Must have some wicked-ass tendencies.” His grin was wide and bright white. “This I gotta see, babe.”

  “Riley,” I offered. “My name’s Riley.”

  Noah barked out a laugh. “Sorry ’bout that—habit.” He lowered his shades and openly oogled me. “But I gotta tell you. You are a babe, babe.”

  At the riverfront, I stopped and rounded on Noah. “So there’s some big meeting at the Duprés’ tonight? Permission slips and all that to be signed? That’s all fine with me, but first I have clients to finish and a business to settle.” I shook my head. “Nyx is gonna kill me.”

  “Sweet. I’ll hang with you till tonight, then,” Noah said.

  I stared at him as we headed up the sidewalk toward Inksomnia. “Behave yourself until Eli gets here.”

  He grinned. “Don’t worry. I was raised a Southern gentleman, darlin’.”

  I shook my head and led him up the walk. Just before we reached the shop, I stopped and met Noah’s shaded gaze. “Okay, first, what was that smell? Second, why this, all of a sudden? Phin just told me you guys would contact us when you needed help. He even said your group and ours don’t exactly get along.”

  Sincerity sank deep into Noah’s features, surprising me. “First”—he withdrew a sachet of something and dropped it into my hand—“my mask. Most vampires, creatures of the afterlight, whatever, have a certain special something about them that makes them distinct from all others.” He grinned. “Mine is my scent. If I didn’t carry this around, I’d have chicks—of all species—chasing me down. It was pretty enticing for the first twenty or so years, but then”—he shrugged—“wore my ass slap out, keeping up with all the women.” He winked. “Not to mention all the poodles named Fee Fee I had to chase off. Second”—his face grew serious—“one of ours was destroyed last night.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  Noah shrugged. “Simply, we were outnumbered.” He shook his head. “Never seen so many newlings gathered before. Freakin’ out of control. We knew then we needed help.”

  I stuck out my hand and took his in a sincere shake. “I’m not a kick-ass vampire, but I promise to kick some vampire ass.”

  Noah grinned. “I totally believe you.”

  We started up the walk again, and, at Inksomnia’s storefront window, I stopped once more. I still had his sachet in my hand. “Okay, so wait a minute. Are you telling me that if you didn’t have your magic anti-want-me powder, I would be all over you?”

  Noah’s smile was pure raw male seduction, and, for a quick second, my insides pinged with lust. He reached slowly down and pried the sachet out of my fingers, his face, those eyes, mere inches from mine. I shuddered. “That’s exactly what I’m tellin’ ya, darlin’.”

  “Whoa,” I muttered, amazed, still feeling as if I were in a slight horny haze. I shook my head again, and he grinned. “I hope my dog doesn’t start humpin’ your leg, Noah.” I hoped I didn’t start humpin’ Noah’s leg. God-damn.

  Noah burst out laughing.

  “Miles, sup my man?” Luc’s voice said, suddenly beside us, grabbing Noah’s hand and the two bumping shoulders in a man-hug. Luc glanced at me, his
brow raised in puzzlement. “Ri, you okay? Ah, dude—you didn’t?”

  “Sorry,” Noah said, smirking. “She asked.”

  I shook my head, my gaze still transfixed on Noah. His smile was subtle but still seductive. Shithead. I shook my head again and moved between Luc and Noah, grabbed the black iron door handle of my shop, and opened it. “Yeah,” I muttered to Luc, my head still a web of lust and confusion. “Fine.”

  Before the door closed behind me, I heard both vampires laugh.

  By the time I wrapped up my last client—a sick freehand tribal tat of a raven inked onto the chest of a visiting RAF pilot from North umberland, England—it was six thirty p.m. Noah had hung out in Inksomnia, watching me work, watching Nyx work, and catching up with Luc and Phin. Seth and Josie had wandered in around six, and had left right back out to the downtown branch library to check out books. Then, Eli arrived. We’d all planned to meet up at the Dupré House by nine thirty. Permission slips. Game plan. Proving one’s abilities. Stuff like that. Luc had taken Nyx home. After treating her house adequately with Preacher’s special sauce, he’d felt she was safe to return. She now knew all she had to do to have Luc there in an instant was to think it. She was cool with that—probably cooler than cool. The two had been staring googly-eyed at each other all day long.

  The moment Eli walked in, he headed straight for Noah. They did that guy thing, slapping hands and then doing a man-hug. “I heard my woman kicked your ass to the ground,” Eli said with pride. “Guess I shoulda warned you.”

  Noah grinned over Eli’s shoulder at me. “She’s a wildcat, man. She can definitely hold her own.”

  That, as I smiled at Noah, I sincerely appreciated.

  “So let’s get out of here,” Luc said. “Papa’s waiting for us.” He glanced at Noah. “You ride with me.”

  Eli’s gaze found mine. “You ride with me.”