Night Novellas: Night Thief & Night Angel

by Lisa Kessler

  He laughed, and she wished she could hear it. In that brief moment, the sadness lurking in his eyes lifted, the corners of his eyes revealed the lines of a face prone to laughter, and in that moment she caught a glimpse of the bright soul caged within, like a bird trapped behind bars.

  “Flowers were not why I came by.” He glanced around her porch like the answer might present itself. Finally he met her eyes again. “Forgive me. I should not have bothered you.”

  She shook her head. If I was bothered, I wouldn’t have opened the door.

  Colin stared at her words. The clever quips he’d taken for granted for centuries escaped him now as much as the miracle of flight. What was he doing? There was no reason to get to know her better. He was curious—perhaps more than curious about this beautiful resilient flower—but that was all. It wouldn’t change the fact that he was a Night Walker, and a damaged one at that. He had no right to draw this intriguing woman into his dark world.

  When Bartley had mentioned Juliana owned a flower shop, he was reminded of the roses on the rocks along the shore. Knowing Benedict was hunting in his territory, he couldn’t help but imagine the flowers were tied to the water horse somehow.

  It was unlikely they came from Juliana’s shop, there were plenty of florists in Belfast, but he’d wanted to see her again.

  “I came by to see if a man has been visiting your shop to purchase roses.”

  I sell roses to lots of men.

  He wanted to smack his forehead. Of course she did. Being so close to her made it difficult for him to think clearly. “Of course you do. That was a stupid question. Just be careful. Some women have gone missing and I found long-stemmed red roses on the rocks by the shore.”

  She frowned. Are you a detective?

  “I’m no detective, but I’m looking into all of this for a friend.” He tipped his head and took a step back. “Sorry for bothering you.” He stared into her dark eyes allowing himself to come closer again. “But I am glad you opened the door.”

  Before he could censure himself for his lack of willpower, she smiled. His immortal heart pounded in response, his spirit lifting like she wielded some kind of magic. She broke eye contact, and he pulled in a slow breath. She smelled like lavender and roses. It wasn’t a perfume, just the pure scent of her skin.

  I’m glad Bartley told you where to find me.

  He leaned in closer to see her words as she lifted her gaze. Having her this close to him made him ache to read her thoughts, to know what questions lingered behind her dark eyes. “I want to know you better.”

  Her full lips curved, drenching him in a sudden desire to kiss her.

  I close up my shop at six o’clock tomorrow.

  He pointed to her words and waited for her to see his lips before he spoke. “Does this mean you want to know me better, too?”

  She caught her lower lip in her teeth and nodded.

  He grinned, feeling a dose of his lost bravado returning. “Shall I pick you up at six thirty?”

  He still needed to search for Benedict, but if the bastard was wooing his meals with flowers it would be best to keep an eye on Juliana’s shop. It didn’t hurt that he would get to spend time with her in the process.

  She scribbled quickly. I’ll be ready.

  Chapter Three

  Juliana shivered. The biting wind and cold seawater stung her face as she stumbled through the darkness. She spun around, desperate to find her bearings. Then she heard it, the banshee’s lone wail over the angry tide.

  Sound only came to her in dreams making it easy to recognize she was sleeping. Although she knew this was a dream, that didn’t change the message. Someone was going to die unless she could find a clue, some way to change the outcome.

  She walked further down the beach, the froth of the waves tickling her bare feet and the moonlight shining on the water. Her eyes gradually adjusted to the dim light as she stared out at the ocean. The mist and fog mutated into faces. She recognized Colin and smiled, then her customer, Benedict, came into stark focus and her skin flushed with warmth.

  The two men must be connected, but how?

  Hoofbeats caught her attention, pounding the sand like rhythmic cracks of thunder. In the distance, a large black horse tossed its mighty head. She gasped when it turned toward her, its eyes glowing red.

  Juliana sat up in bed, her nightgown stuck to her perspiring body.

  A banshee and a black horse. Both were omens of death.

  But whose?

  She reached for the silver triquetra at her neck. Her, Colin, Benedict, a black horse, and a banshee. Their lives were all entwined somehow. And if she’d learned anything about her prophetic dreams, one of them was going to die.

  After a shower and a hot bowl of oatmeal, the day ahead occupied her mind, the mystery that woke her at daybreak fading away. Juliana tied her hair back in a ponytail and started for the door. With any luck the shop would be busy and the hours would pass by quickly.

  Not that she was watching the clock, marking the time until Colin would be walking up to her door for their date. Well, not much anyway. The image of his face in the swirling mist flashed in her mind, and black horse with red eyes. She signed and tried to push it away.

  Her deliveries of fresh flowers would clear her head. The monotony of unpacking, sorting, and dropping buds into water buckets was soothing, and the new fragrant batch of lavender made her smile. She placed the bucket near her workbench instead of in the fridge, allowing the relaxing scent to fill her workspace.

  With the flowers on display, she went behind the counter and pulled out a batch of bright squares of paper. Between putting together bouquets and flower arrangements for her customers, she enjoyed folding the colorful origami sheets, breathing life into them with each fold. She crafted six paper tulips, placing the finished stems into an empty cup.

  She started on a deep-violet rose when movement caught her eye. She glanced up and smiled when Bartley stepped inside her door.

  “Top o’ the mornin’ to ya, Juli.”

  She grinned, laying her pad on the counter. Good to see you, Bartley. What brings you by?

  “I heard through the grapevine you met Colin at the pub last night.”

  Juliana rolled her eyes. Muriel has a big mouth.

  He grinned with a raised brow. “I got no complaints about her mouth.”

  Bartley and Muriel had dated back in school, but she’d gone off to university and they’d drifted apart. Juliana always expected them to reconnect when Muriel came back to town and opened the pub, but it never happened. At least not yet.

  He chuckled, shaking his head slowly. “I promised her I’d come by and answer your questions about Colin.”

  Juliana stared at her pad. She didn’t have any questions. Did she? Finally she scribbled, How long have you known him?

  He shrugged, his gaze wandering over the flowers around her. “I lost count. Many years, though.”

  Juliana waited for him to meet her eyes again. It was a simple question, but he seemed uncomfortable. Hmm. Strange.

  Has he ever been married?

  Bartley laughed and shook his head. “No. Colin’s not really the marrying type.”

  So he just dates around?

  That same awkwardness settled in his features as he stared at her notepad. “He doesn’t date much, either. He’s not a loner, has lots of friends, but not…” He shrugged and met her eyes. “You can ask him all this, ya know.”

  Juliana nodded. You’re right. She tapped her pen on the paper and made one last note. One more thing?

  “Shoot.”

  Do you trust him?

  “With my life.” There was no hesitation or uncertainty in his eyes.

  Juliana smiled. Thanks.

  She came around the counter and hugged him. He pulled back with a crooked grin. “If you tell him I was here answerin’ about him, I’ll deny it.”

  She laughed, bringing her hand up to lock her lips closed and then crossed her heart.

  “Go
od enough.” He turned for the door and stopped, glancing over his shoulder so she could see his mouth. “Have fun tonight, Juli. You deserve it.”

  His parting words lingered in her mind, and then her stomach sank. Did Colin only ask her out because he pitied her for being deaf? It was obvious from Bartley’s answers that Colin preferred to be alone, so why pursue her of all people? With his emerald eyes and sexy smile, he could have anyone he wanted.

  Over the years, her family had hooked her up with plenty of sympathy dates, as if she weren’t capable of meeting anyone on her own. It was nice of them to want to help, and their hearts were in the right place, but it didn’t make their matchmaking efforts piss her off any less.

  She could still communicate and make her own choices. So regardless of her ominous dream, if Colin thought he was being “nice” by buying dinner for the deaf girl, he could stuff it. She didn’t have time—or use—for his pity.

  The moment the sun dipped into the ocean, Colin pulled in a slow breath and opened his eyes. He stretched his arms and groaned when he noticed the damage to his left arm. It still startled him to see the scars, the indentation where his bicep should be. Would he ever grow accustomed to his deformity?

  He rubbed his hands down his face, rising from his bed. His daytime sanctuary rested below the basement of his house. Only Bartley and Claire knew the exact location. Since the sunlight stole the life from his body each day, it left him defenseless, a shell. Unable to move or defend himself, secrecy was the best protection.

  In the small washroom, he showered and got dressed. For the first time in centuries, he was hurrying. Tonight he was meeting Juliana.

  Even though he had no business spending time with her, even though there was no room for romantic attachments in his world, she tempted him and she could help him. He’d never age, never die, left behind to mourn for eternity, but he wasn’t meeting her to fall in love or forge a relationship.

  Somehow Juliana had survived a huge loss. And as far as he could tell, she’d banished any bitterness about it. He wanted her secret, needed it to keep going on. Since the Night Demon had left him a shell of his former self, he’d become a stranger in the mirror. He was not the same Night Walker that enjoyed his immortal life, quick to laugh, and carried smile lines in his ageless skin.

  He didn’t recognize this new incarnation, the one who kept his weakness hidden under heavy coats and had to force himself to interact with the world. The allure of drowning in resentment and fading away from this world was growing.

  But Juliana held a secret in her heart. Somehow she’d resisted succumbing to the anger, and once he discovered how, he would step back from her life before either of them formed any attachment.

  He climbed the stairs and entered through the back of the stately house.

  “Good evenin’, Colin,” Claire chirped from the kitchen. “Bartley tells me yer meetin’ a lady friend tonight.”

  Colin rolled his eyes, reaching for his coat. “Word travels fast in this town.”

  “Harmless talk.” She came around the corner, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “Just happy to see ya gettin’ out there. About time ya started socializin’.”

  “I’ve got nothing to be social about.” He moved to the door but not quickly enough to avoid seeing the hurt in Claire’s eyes. Sighing, he turned back. She had a willowy figure with a dreamy smile, more like a watercolor painting than a person, and he hated disappointing her. She had worked for him since she was a teenager and was like a sister to him.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Not feelin’ much like myself these days.”

  “Wish there was somethin’ we could do to help.”

  “Me, too.” He raised his hand in a quick goodbye and slipped out into the night.

  Colin hunted at the docks, feeding quickly without killing either of the men he found. Neither of them was a criminal—he’d entered their minds first to find out—so he fed without stopping their hearts and mesmerized each one. They wouldn’t remember seeing him, only feel the pounding headache and a hunger for red meat.

  His skin warmed from the influx of fresh blood. With his hands in his pockets, he walked toward Juliana’s flower shop, ignoring the desire to rush. He needed information and did his best to banish memories of her smile and the way her dark eyes sparked with energy before she jotted notes on her pad.

  How would she react if he told her they didn’t need her notepad to communicate? He ground his teeth. There was no future in these thoughts. She would never know about his abilities. And unlike the previous evening, tonight he wouldn’t hesitate to trespass into her mind, no reason to prolong contact with the mortal woman when he could easily learn her secret.

  He approached her shop and stopped outside. She stood behind the counter, engrossed in a project. Beside her sat a cup with filled with roses and tulips. She lifted her hands, her fingers deftly making folds while she inspected the bloom. Satisfied, she placed it in the cup with the others and retrieved another sheet of paper.

  Paper flowers.

  Why would a florist, surrounded by fresh cut flowers, make paper flowers? Shaking his head, he reminded himself he had a goal tonight, a purpose. The challenge would be to keep that goal in mind when this woman distracted him.

  He walked up the flower-lined path and pulled open the door. She lifted gaze, and the joy in her grin disarmed him. She held up her notepad. Is it 6:30 already?

  The coquettish glint in her eyes coaxed an unexpected laugh from his throat.

  He tipped his head. “I thought it would never get here.”

  Color crept up her neck, and he reached for her thoughts. I hope I’m not blushing. He has no business knowing how long it’s been since I had a date.

  Instead of probing for more information and memories about her recovery from losing her hearing, Colin closed the mental connection, resisting the urge to apologize for the intrusion. She’d never realize he heard her thoughts, and he had no intention of invading her mind without her knowledge again. Even if it was easier.

  Something about her demanded his respect. Learning how she did it would take longer than he’d anticipated. He’d need to actually get to know her.

  And a larger part of him than he wanted to admit looked forward to it.

  Benedict turned the corner to the flower shop and froze when he looked in the window. Juliana was not alone. Colin, the Night Walker, stood at the counter, chatting. The Mayan bastard had returned to the island. Did he know Benedict was reclaiming this territory?

  Not that it mattered. He’d fed on enough human lives now to replenish his strength. He could face the Night Walker, and this time, he would be the victor.

  He wondered what led the night Walker to this flower shop—coincidence or fate?

  Benedict chose to believe fate. Finally the injustice brought about by the Night Walker would be righted. Watching through the window, he remained hidden. For now, he would bide his time. Clarity would come, and fate’s plan would reveal itself.

  Eventually.

  And he had all the time in the world.

  She untied her apron and stowed it under the counter. When she straightened, Colin was running his fingers along the edges of her paper flowers.

  “These are amazing.”

  Grabbing her pen, she jotted, They’re immortal.

  He jolted upright after reading her words, confusion lining his face. “Come again?”

  The color will fade eventually, but these flowers never wilt or die. Immortal.

  He chuckled, relaxing. “I can relate to the fading part.”

  She rolled her eyes. Oh please, you look plenty vibrant.

  For a moment, sadness shadowed his features. He moved toward the door, and she waited. Often people forgot that if they turned away from her, lip reading became impossible. He glanced back, realization dawning. “Bugger me.” He shook his head. “Forgive me. I asked if you were hungry.”

  Juliana nodded, hoping her stomach wasn’t grumbling in answer for her.

&
nbsp; “Shall we walk to the Bridled Pony?”

  She cringed. No. Muriel would never leave us alone. She smiled and added to her note. I know a quiet place not far from here. They have wonderful shepherd’s pie.

  “Lead the way.”

  She locked up the store and walked alongside Colin, enjoying the crisp night air. Normally, she kept a brisk pace. The café was just a couple of blocks away, a quick trip on foot, but having Colin this close made her hyperaware of every step, slowing her. It was probably best she couldn’t write and walk at the same time or she’d be scribbling all kinds of meaningless notes.

  The lights of the café beckoned across the street. Juliana checked for traffic. Since she’d lost her hearing, watching for cars and trucks was drilled into her by her entire family. Now it was automatic. But the moment she stepped out, Colin’s hand brushed her lower back, guiding her as he kept pace, definitely not something she was used to.

  Her pulse jumped at his steadying touch before her brain kicked in. He was being polite. He’d been raised well. It didn’t mean anything. Colin opened the door and followed her inside. She did her best not to notice the moment his hand left her back. Instead, she reminded herself that she still didn’t know why Colin was pursuing her.

  And she intended to find out.

  The hostess recognized Juliana and grinned. “Your table is open in the corner.”

  Juliana nodded, walking to the familiar table. Usually she ate alone, and sitting with her back to the corner gave her a perfect view of the room. No one could startle her from behind that way. She took her usual chair, and Colin sat across from her.

  She pulled out her pad. I know you own Sea Haven, and Bartley speaks highly of you, but I’m curious… She hesitated, stealing a glance at him. With a sigh, she put the pen back to paper. Why did you ask Bartley about me and my shop? If tonight is out of pity for the deaf pianist, we can call it a night right now and save us both some time.

  Chapter Four

  Pity? Colin stared at her words before meeting her eyes. Did this beautiful, resilient woman truly believe he was only here out of pity?