Evening Storm (Midnight Chronicles Book 2)

by Andrea Pearson

  I tried to convince myself that it was because I’d been through so much and didn’t see his situation as stressful. But a part of me knew it was more likely that he needed a bit of a wakeup call for how bad his security was. His facility literally had the worst system installed for keeping out unwanteds. It served him right that he’d been targeted.

  If he had, of course. We still didn’t know.

  Something told me Lizzie was correct in her theory, though, that the hounds were staying here. And it wasn’t because we’d already searched the other facilities. The place just reeked of evil creatures. Hopefully, we’d help Tony get that figured out soon enough.

  22

  We started slowly down the rows, with Lizzie pausing outside each door while I kept a lookout and pushed all thoughts of murdering her from my mind.

  Even though this would be yet again another perfect place to do it.

  I’d already noticed the massive lack of security.

  There weren’t even any cameras inside the facility itself.

  No one would know.

  I could pass it off as an attack from the gang we knew to be there.

  Surprise hit me then, that thinking about murdering her wasn’t nearly as painful as it had once been. Was I getting used to the idea? Would I be able to do it without so much remorse?

  Panic gripped my heart at that thought. No, I’d still feel horrible about it—I would. I wasn’t turning into a monster.

  But how was I able to entertain these thoughts without wilting from agony?

  It had to be the crush thing.

  I was seeing her more as a person now, not the exalted, perfect woman the Shadow Prophet had first led me to believe she was.

  That was a good thing. It really was. I couldn’t actually end up with someone I didn’t know, who I wasn’t comfortable around, who didn’t know me.

  My heart warmed as I considered this. And I realized something else. My feelings were slowly deepening for her. I’d been worried I was completely infatuated, and that would have been a problem. Infatuation wasn’t real—it brought all of the negative emotions that true love didn’t bring. Panic that they’d forget you, that they’d move on, that you’d never end up with them. I completely understood infatuation.

  But my mother had taught me what true love was. It involved peace. A lot of it. Knowing that the other person would always be there, even if you fought, even if they were gone, even if someone more attractive came along.

  What I felt for Lizzie wasn’t completely love, not according to my mother’s definition. But it wasn’t until this moment that I realized what I’d been feeling and thinking for Lizzie truly was leading that way.

  I took in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. A lot of things to process, but I’d do that later, once I was alone again.

  By this point, Lizzie had started showing serious signs of nervousness. She frequently wiped her palms on her jeans, and she was walking on the balls of her feet, as if she was on the verge of exploding.

  Something was here. I knew it. And it was obvious she did too.

  We passed the storage unit Lizzie had rented, rounded the corner, and she froze, hand around her amulet.

  She turned to me. “They’re here,” she whispered. “The amulet’s giving me directions now.”

  I nodded, motioning for her to continue. Thank goodness we’d found them.

  Apparently following the amulet’s directions, Lizzie walked to the end of the row, turned, and entered a row of the very, very large units—the ones that were big enough to house RVs and other huge vehicles.

  She dropped into a crouching run, and I followed suit, racing quietly after her until she stopped next to a door. She put her finger to her lips, then pointed at the unit.

  “Let’s circle around, just in case,” I whispered. This was definitely something where we’d need to be absolutely positive before doing anything. If we targeted the wrong unit, not only would it cause pointless damage, but it would also probably alert the hounds to our presence.

  “I was just about to say the same thing,” she whispered back.

  We circled the block, and again, Lizzie’s amulet led us to the same unit. Once we were sure of the hounds’ location, I motioned for us to leave, and we headed back to the manager’s office.

  “Thank goodness we came back,” she said.

  I nodded. “Yes, definitely.”

  “Hopefully, we can snag a lot of them tonight after my date.”

  My heart froze in my chest. “You have a date?”

  She winced. She obviously hadn’t been planning on telling me. Why not? That almost bothered me more than the fact that she had a date.

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “With whom?”

  “Just a guy.”

  Whoa—total cold shoulder there. She was obviously trying to get the message across that it wasn’t any of my business. But I had a job to do, and until I knew if this date could be trusted, first, and that he’d protect her, second, it was my business. Well, her protection was, anyway.

  “I should go with,” I said.

  “Are you serious?”

  “I am.”

  “I’m not bringing another man on my date.”

  I frowned at her. Why couldn’t she see how bad it was for her to be going out with some random guy? “It’s not safe for you to be off gallivanting right now—not while the hounds are figuring things out.”

  “Look, I’ve known him for a long time.”

  “How long?”

  “Since high school. This is our second date. And why are you being so protective?”

  I closed my eyes, forcing myself to relax. “I find myself with this stupid urge to make sure you’re safe.” That was as close to the truth as she was ever going to get about this contract with Alexander.

  She stared at me. We’d been outside Tony’s office for several moments now, and the man was probably wondering why we hadn’t come in.

  “Stupid urge?”

  Oh, crap. Yeah, social conventions. I wasn’t very good at them. I rubbed the back of my neck, not sure how to fix my idiocy. Before I could stop myself, a pathetic attempt at an apology—with all sorts of unnecessary explanations—rolled out of my mouth. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. There’s just something about you that draws me in. I’ve been trying to fight it, but when I’m around you, I can’t even remember why I shouldn’t fall for you. I want to know everything about you. Be everywhere you are. It’s driving me nuts.”

  I stepped toward her, realizing I was again acting like an idiot. How much heartbreak did I want to experience if she and this guy ended up together? I couldn’t help it, though. The magnetic pull between us tripled in intensity, and I knew it wouldn’t go away until I did something about it.

  Lizzie met my gaze with an open, hesitant one of her own, and I sensed a war she seemed to be experiencing. It became even more obvious when her eyes dropped to my lips.

  She would never know how much I’d fantasized about kissing her. About taking her in my arms and inhaling everything about her.

  Then she dashed the moment by bringing us back to reality.

  “We’d better go inside now,” she said. “Tony’s probably wondering.”

  Bitter disappointment flooded my system. “Oh. Yeah. Tony.”

  23

  Lizzie turned and fumbled with the door, finally getting the handle to turn, and we stepped inside.

  Tony looked up. His pleasant expression dropped when he saw our faces. “Bad news?”

  I nodded. “They’re here.”

  Lizzie said, “I’ll alert the necessary people.” She bent over the desk in front of him, making it impossible for him to look away. “Do not—do not—act any differently from how you normally do. If you stay in this office most days, you stay in this office. Don’t go looking for them, don’t call the cops, don’t do anything that would bring attention to yourself. These are dangerous people. They will kill you. Now that we know they’re here, we have to be absolutel
y certain they don’t feel like anyone suspects them. If they catch on, bad things will happen. I’m sure I don’t need to go further into that.”

  I couldn’t help but grin at how beautifully she’d pulled that off. This woman was freaking awesome.

  Tony nodded quickly, his eyes wide. “Okay.”

  “Do you have anything to keep yourself occupied?” I asked.

  He stared blankly at the wall. “Um, I guess I do maybe. I can watch movies.”

  “Good idea,” Lizzie said. “Start a Lord of the Rings marathon or something.”

  Tony nodded, and she pointed at her business card that was still on his desk. “Give me a call if anything comes up. I’ll let you know if we end up needing anything.”

  “When do you think it’ll all go down?” Tony asked.

  “These things can take a few days,” she said. “At least by next Wednesday.”

  Now that we knew where the hounds were, it fell on my shoulders to find something that would knock them out. I’d definitely be reaching out to my sources for this one.

  Neither Lizzie nor I said anything until we got in the car.

  “I’ll text when I’m ready,” I said. “Like I mentioned earlier, it could take all day.”

  She nodded. “And I’ll check in with you when I’m done.”

  I could tell she still regretted slipping up about the date. I wished I could say something to make the situation better, but with my luck and talents in conversation, I’d make it worse.

  I pulled up to her house, and we both seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. I was ready for a break from her—for a chance to regroup and refocus—and I knew she probably needed a break from me as well.

  We’d destroy the hounds tonight.

  And then . . . once that was done . . . I’d probably be ready to destroy Lizzie. I hoped.

  I clenched my jaw, thoughts on my mother. She deserved to live, to be free.

  But so did Lizzie.

  I hated being the one who had to decide who lived and who didn’t.

  Realizing I didn’t know what the evening held, I headed to my apartment to grab a bite to eat before running to the local supermarket to buy the necessary items for the bomb. I’d make it extra strong—a dose healthy enough to kill a regular human. That ought to get us enough time for Lizzie to destroy them permanently.

  24

  Once I’d built the bombs—deciding to create five of them—I realized I desperately needed some sleep. I never knew how long I had until I’d be forced to stay awake for days on end, and letting my nightshade tattoo run low was dangerous.

  I ended up sleeping for only forty-five minutes. My crimson tattoo—the one that I used to protect and alert—pulsed strongly enough to wake me.

  It was a good thing the tattoos could override each other because this was an alert I couldn’t afford to miss.

  The demon was stepping out of the Russells’ basement wall.

  I didn’t know what time Lizzie was going on her date, but there was a chance the demon would be able to catch her before I got there.

  Throwing all caution to the wind—not even setting up the protections around my apartment again when I shredded through them—I grabbed my emergency kit from where I’d left it after restocking the snacks in it, then took the stairs three at a time down to the parking lot, racing to my car.

  I’d just peeled out of the lot when I got a text from Mr. Russell.

  Demon in the basement. Come quick.

  Lizzie’s car was out front when I got there. Was she still home? Did her date pick her up?

  I didn’t even have to knock—Mrs. Russell was waiting nervously in her open doorway.

  “He’s still here?” I asked.

  She nodded, stepping aside so I could enter.

  The demon was just walking into the living room. Not knowing what else to do—since I didn’t have a clue as to how to stop the beast—I stepped out of the way and trailed it as it walked outside.

  Indecision wasn’t usually something I suffered with.

  The relief that flooded my system made me almost see stars when the demon headed north instead of going to Lizzie’s house. She wasn’t home. Thank goodness.

  I hopped into my car, prepared to follow that way. Good thing, too, because moments later, the demon paused, then shivered and elongated, hunching over and evolving into a large black cat, similar to a panther, though bigger. And then, it raced off, heading north.

  I’d totally forgotten it could shift—that was one bit of information Alexander had given me.

  I jerked my car into gear and sped off after it, annoyed when the cat didn’t follow streets. It leapt through yards and across fences, and my tracker tattoo went wild, veering off after the beast. I couldn’t follow through yards, so I did my best to keep up on the neighborhood streets.

  Wishing I could predict where the cat was headed, I shook my head.

  I blinked. I could predict where we were going.

  Before I lost my nerve, before I put a lot of thought into it, before I lost my chance, I called Lizzie.

  She didn’t answer. I didn’t expect her to.

  So I called again. And again. And again. Just to get her attention.

  And then I sent her a text message.

  Where are you? Don’t need an address, just general locale.

  It only took two seconds for her response to come.

  SLC. Why? What’s up?

  I was tempted not to respond at all—I didn’t want to seem petty by stealing attention from her date. But she’d probably freak out if I didn’t, so I sent a quick text.

  Nothing—just dealing with something for a client. Thanks. Have fun.

  But not too much fun, I thought.

  I gripped the steering wheel, glad I had a destination now. The cat was well ahead of me—I could tell by the trail from my morning—tracker—tattoo. But knowing where we were going really simplified things.

  Driving fifty miles an hour through city roads, praying I wouldn’t cause any accidents, I raced toward State Street, then pulled onto the freeway.

  The cat was running the frontage road. I was too far away and couldn’t actually see him, but the intensity of the colors from my tracker tattoo kept me updated on his whereabouts.

  Knowing I couldn’t afford to be stuck on the freeway if the cat veered off in some random direction, I sped from exit to exit, pulling off the road right before the off-ramps in case I needed to take them, and waiting for the cat to catch up.

  We made our way north that way. It was very tedious.

  Why had the demon changed shape this time and not previously when I’d been tracking him? Why now? Had he needed to build up energy or something? Was he in cat shape now because he knew he could catch his prey? Couldn’t he have done that before?

  Would I get my questions answered? I hoped so. I hated only having theories to go off of.

  As we continued northward, I realized I was about to see Lizzie on her date. The thought of that made my stomach turn. I knew she wasn’t mine. That she needed to live her life.

  As much of it as she could, anyway, before I was forced to murder her.

  And I really did want her to be happy.

  But I also wanted her to be happy with me.

  The whole situation sucked. I hated it. I hated that she was on a date with another man, and I hated that I had to be okay with it, that I couldn’t tell her she shouldn’t do it.

  I loved having my freedom . . . but freedom for everyone is hard when you’re used to being in control.

  There was a reason I’d avoided all relationships, and it wasn’t just because of Lizzie. I’d never wanted to lose control of myself—my emotions, my happiness in the case of the eventual breakups, my self-discipline, and yes, even my schedule.

  I got off the freeway when the demon veered away from the frontage road and crossed under the freeway heading into Murray. I followed it onto State Street in Salt Lake County, grateful it had picked that road. State Street runs fairly st
raight, and apparently, it was the fastest and most direct route to Lizzie and her date.

  I had to do a lot of evasive driving, which prevented me from being able to call the cops. It didn’t surprise me when I saw a ton of cop cars, their lights blazing, following me.

  I couldn’t lead them to the demon. Regardless of how stupid it was, I called Detective Evans, gripping my phone with one hand and the steering wheel with the other.

  He didn’t answer.

  I cursed, instead turning on the radio so I could keep track of things that way. And sure enough, they were reporting on a car chase happening on State Street.

  Only a few minutes later, a helicopter was overhead, bright headlight trained on me.

  25

  I called Detective Evans again.

  This time, thankfully, he answered.

  “Are you the cause of all the fuss in Salt Lake?” he asked, sounding slightly annoyed.

  “Yes. And it’s the same as before. The demon is hunting Lizzie. She can’t know he’s following her.”

  “Okay, I’ll handle it. Thanks for letting me know.”

  “See if you can have State Street emptied. Explain the situation to them. I’m surprised they haven’t noticed the cat.”

  “Cat? It’s a cat now?”

  “Yes. It can change shapes.”

  We ended the call, and I tucked my phone away. The demon slowed as it neared its target, and then it stopped completely. He morphed back into the beast with three horns, and I shook my head, watching him as he lurched along. I hated not knowing why he’d shifted in the first place when he hadn’t before, though I suspected it really was a speed thing. But why didn’t he stay in the wall at the Russells’ and come out when she was home?

  With the beast going slower, I figured he was nearing his destination, so I pulled my car over and hopped out, then caught up on foot. Had my suspicions before been correct? Did this creature need a lot of time to regenerate? Tracking Lizzie seemed to take quite a bit out of it.

  I heard familiar laughter and froze.

  My hands grew sweaty, though I wasn’t sure why. Why did it surprise me that I would hear her there? I’d known this was where we were headed. Still, it stopped me—my heart, my brain, my body—completely. Annoyance flashed through me at my stupid emotions. I had to get them under control. Even if I chose not to kill her, they’d still make it impossible to do my job.