The Nightling: Darkness Within

by Danae Ayusso

  Giovanni chuckled. “Selfless pain in the ass. You can’t always be the hero, Sis. It’ll just complicate things if you try.”

  “That I am and I know,” I agreed. “It is not hard enough to say we must not wage war. It is necessary to love peace and sacrifice for it.”

  “Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.,” he said, nodding his understanding. “You will not allow others to be that sacrifice. Got it.”

  “Glad we’re on the same page. I will not allow for anyone to wage war, regardless of how small that war may be in their opinions. I’ll make more of a conscious effort to get self-sufficient so I’m not a prisoner of circumstances anymore, and I’ll make an effort to stay safe… I think I saw the Herald of Shadows.”

  He gave me a look. “You think you saw or you did see? Because that’s major in either case, Sis.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know what I saw. It, he, felt real. Is it possible for a vampire to be a Harold of Shadows?”

  Giovanni laughed. “I hope to the Goddess not.”

  “You and me both… There were two of them, one felt like Andrei but the other felt like Papà.”

  His eyes widened. “That isn’t possible. Daddy was a killed and laid to rest. His soul wasn’t taken like that.”

  “How do you know?” I argued. “You remember what Nonna said when she saw his body? That it wasn’t her son and that a piece of him was missing.”

  He shook his head. “I wasn’t there for that conversation, apparently. Are you sure it was him?”

  Again, I shrugged. “I don’t know. It felt like him, but a piece was missing like Nonna said. He was trying to show me something, I think, but then he ran from me or I exploded in light or something. It was weird. I wish you were there with me. Why weren’t you?”

  Giovanni shrugged. “How am I supposed to know? I never know anything, especially when it comes to whatever this is. Perhaps you should look into it more and let me know. You do, after all, have some connections in this new world that you should really utilize once the threat against your crown or your captor’s is resolved. I don’t want you going out until that douche is certain it’s safe for you. Got it?” he scolded.

  I hated when my brother made a point, an obvious one that I should have seen sooner, and acted like he was my father. His calm, rational mindedness at the moment was solely to keep me from losing it, and to keep himself from losing it. If he would have, I would have, and we both knew it.

  Most likely I wasn’t remembering accurately.

  When Papà died nothing made sense in my world. I felt as if I were alone even though I had my brother and family to help me through the loss, but I couldn’t process that Papà was really gone. I heard him, even before they knocked on the door to tell us he was gone I heard him. I always heard him, and then one day I didn’t. For months I dreamt of Papà, of him telling me to be strong and that he would always be there to protect me from the shadows. When Mamma remarried is when I realized my dreams were just lies because the monster went out of his way to get me…

  That’s how I knew Papà was really gone.

  “Know what we need to do now that you’ve got your head out of your ass?” Giovanni rhetorically asked before getting to his feet then started doing a little jig.

  I hate it when he does this; tries to change the subject and make everything happy go lucky and full of rainbows as if nothing was wrong, all while he silently stews over it in typical Giovanni fashion.

  “Don’t you dare,” I complained with a chuckle when he started to spin in circles.

  “Children behave,” he sang, tossing his head from side to side like an 80’s teenybopper playing at the mall, “that’s what they say when we’re together. And watch how you play.”

  Why I bother with him, I don’t know.

  “They don't understand.” He pulled me to my feet and forced me to dance with him. “And so we’re running just as fast as we can, holding on to one another hands. Trying to get away, into the night, and then you put your arms around me and we tumble to the ground and then you say-”

  If he wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him.

  “I think we’re alone now,” I mumbled; I really hated how much my annoying brother loved to sing and dance.

  “I can’t hear you,” Giovanni teasing sang.

  “You are so annoying!” I informed him and he smiled wide.

  I looked around; Andrei was gone.

  That helped to push the stage fright away.

  Andrei was rather intimidating.

  “I think we’re alone now. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around,” I sang with a smile; the double meaning amused me. “I think we’re alone now, the beating of our hearts is the only sound.”

  Giovanni grabbed my hands and spun me in circles before we started dancing around the playground.

  “You’re going to make me sick,” I warned when he continued to spin me.

  He chuckled and pulled me into him and hugged me tight. “I love you, Passerotta.”

  I hugged him back. “I love you too, Polpetto,” I said.

  “I hate it when you call me meatball,” Giovanni whined, and it made me giggle. “And so we’re running just as fast as we can. Holding on to one another’s hands. Trying to get away, into the night, and then you put your arms around me and you call me meatball just to hear me bitch,” he sang, adlibbing the last line, his chin resting on the top of my head.

  “I think we’re alone now,” I sang, closing my eyes, enjoying the moment with my brother since we could only have it while like this. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone around. I think we’re alone now, the beating of our hearts is the only sound.”

  Growing up how we did, music, dancing, just simply enjoying life, wasn’t that odd of a concept in our home. Papà was a gifted musician and singer; he could play any instrument with little effort. That was how he won Mamma over; he serenaded her outside her bedroom window, waking up her entire family and the neighborhood in the process. But it didn’t faze him. Papà was fearless, never shied away from the spotlight, much like Giovanni, and went out of his way to make people happy and to feel safe and comfortable. That’s why he was a cop.

  Giovanni had won a few State singing competitions in high school and that secured him a dozen scholarship offers; lacrosse, swimming, and rowing care of private clubs in Spokane secured him a dozen more. He was the unimaginably talented singing Italian of Usk.

  When he got sick, it was all over.

  Giovanni could barely breathe, let alone sing. He lost so much weight so quickly that he looked like a skeleton. When he died, it was a reprieve he said. My brother, much like Papà, was overly optimistic, but unlike Papà, Giovanni can be scathingly cynical and a real jerk when he feels it’s warranted.

  I’m more like Papà, and I’m okay with that.

  Contently I sighed, nuzzling against the warm body holding me.

  Softly he was humming under his breath the song I had just been singing, but the tone was wrong, it was deeper than it should have been and not in time.

  I was unbelievably comfortable and was flooded with contentment, something that was coming more and more frequent since this entire ridiculous ordeal started, but I was okay with that. Perhaps it was the side I got from Papà, being laidback and accepting of everything. It surely wasn’t from either of my grandmothers or mamma.

  With a sigh, I opened my eyes then blinked rapidly.

  It was dark.

  My eyes were open, but it was pitch black.

  I was overly warm, on my side, in a pair of panties and a tank top, wrapped around something that was large, warm, and humming under their breath…

  Oh no. What have I done?!

  A soft, content sigh swept over my hair and my lashes fluttered.

  “Go back to sleep, it is early still,” Andrei said, his voice thick with sleep, and the hand that was resting on my backside pulled me into him more before squeezing.

  My eyes widened and body froze in fear.

  “Sorry,” h
e instantly apologized, sliding his hand off my backside and to my thigh instead that was thrown across his hips.

  That wasn’t much better.

  “Am I dead?” I whispered, asking the obvious.

  The body I was wrapped around vibrated slightly with contained laughter.

  “I don’t do well in the dark,” I warned, starting to panic and tried to sit up.

  When I did, the back of my head bashed into something substantial and it knocked me back down, sprawled out on Andrei’s bare chest.

  “This isn’t embarrassing in the least,” I grumbled; my fear of the dark instantly being replaced by embarrassment. “What did I hit?” I asked, trying to sit up again, and again I hit my head on something that knocked me back down.

  Again, he shook with contained laughter.

  “You are a rather slow learner in the morning, are you not?” Andrei commented before a soft clicking was followed by the turning on of a light that was comparable to sun and I was certain I’d be burning to a crisp in seconds as a result.

  “Ow!” I complained, rubbing my eyes. “Why’d you turn on the sun?! Are you trying to kill me?”

  The shaking started all over again, and I hated to admit it, but it was starting to turn me on slightly.

  I have so many issues it’s therapy worthy!

  Once my vision cleared, I looked around, trying to figure out where I was, why I was curled up against Andrei and using his chest as a pillow, and what I kept hitting my head on when I tried to sit up.

  We weren’t in a room.

  We weren’t…

  “Is this a box?” I asked, hopeful, trying to keep from freaking out because I knew it was anything but a box.

  “Some call it that,” he said, and I glared at him.

  “Am I in a dang coffin?!” I clarified in a shriek.

  “Not so loud,” he complained, his finger pressing against my lips. “And if you were in a coffin would it matter?”

  I truly disliked him at times.

  Andrei was on his back, looking at me, wearing a pair of cotton pajama pants and nothing else. There was a small, soft smile on his face, his dark eyes were moving over my face, and his hand absently caressed up and down the length of my thigh.

  This can’t be right.

  “Am I dreaming?” I asked. “Am I dead?!” I asked in a panic. “Is that why I’m in a coffin?! Oh Goddess, I cannot get rid of you, can I?!”

  Andrei shook his head, looking amused.

  “Okay,” I said, making a face, trying to look at anything but the half-naked vampire I was curling up against, and trying to think of anything but the coffin I was in. “Why does a coffin have lighting?”

  “So I can see or read when waiting for the sun to set,” he said, as if it were obvious.

  He wasn’t nearly as amusing as he thought he was.

  “What kind of coffin comes with lighting?” I demanded then made a face the moment the question left my lips. “Stupid question.”

  Andrei nodded his agreement.

  “Why are you half-naked and I’ve been, once again, redressed?” I asked instead of pressing the coffin question, irritated I just noticed I wasn’t wearing my bra, joggers, or the tank top I had on earlier. “Seriously, stop playing dress up with me when I’m unconscious.”

  Andrei smirked. “Nyte.”

  Ugh! You are so annoying.

  “I know,” he agreed.

  Stay out of my head.

  “Nyte.”

  Why? I whined.

  Of course his only response was a shrug.

  I glared at him.

  “You are not intimidating in the least,” he dryly informed me.

  Ugh! You are so annoying!

  “That is the prevailing opinion of many, though it is rather rude to point out,” Andrei scolded then softly chuckled when I smacked him in the chest. “Careful. I am still healing.”

  My eyes widened and I looked at his chest.

  Four, faint pink scars blemished his smooth skin over his heart. My trembling fingers caressed over them; Ammuttadori really did a number on him. Around each mending scar was grey spidering that blended out to the healthier tissue surrounding each.

  Andrei gasped and flinched away from me when I caressed over each again.

  “Sorry. Does that hurt?” I asked in a panic.

  “It tickles.”

  Okay, that was cute and adorable.

  “Why are we in a coffin? I don’t like confined spaces, Andrei,” I informed him, trying to keep from freaking out. “Especially coffins, caskets, boxes, and whatever else they throw bodies in before dropping them in the ground.”

  He sighed. “I know, and I apologize for it.”

  “I’m trying not to freak out here, Andrei. Why am I in a coffin?” I asked again.

  “It was unavoidable. Since you have been dead to the world, no pun intended, during lunar events you have not met with the Carpenter to remedy your lunar cycle needs. When you are ready, the Carpenter will make you a custom piece to go to ground in. Until then, you have been sharing mine since Luka refused to let you anywhere near his, not that I would permit it.”

  Was it just me or was he rambling?

  “That doesn’t explain why I’m in one now,” I pointed out. “Unless I passed out again for weeks at a time… That isn’t normal, is it?”

  Andrei made a face. “I suppose it does not explain it, and no, it is not normal. Your lack of blood intake could be responsible for the exhaustion and fatigue, or perhaps you are merely exhausted and catching up on sleep. I do not know. And why are we to ground?”

  I nodded.

  “In theory going to ground would help with the healing. You should not have done that.”

  Now you tell me.

  “I tell you no often, you merely don’t listen,” he pointed out the obvious. “You never listen to me. It is very frustrating.”

  I smiled wide.

  “Yes, you would find amusement in that.”

  I nodded.

  “You cannot keep disobeying me,” Andrei warned.

  My smile fell and I glared at him.

  “I do not belong to you,” I warned. “Regardless of what you told those shifters and wolves, or what your brother and mother think, I don’t belong to you or any man.”

  He shook his head, giving me a look.

  “I ran from the last monster that told me to obey him and that I belonged to him,” I informed him. “And I swore I’d never be at the hands of another-”

  “I know,” Andrei interrupted. “That is not what I am referring to, Solnyshka. You cannot continue like this. It is killing you.”

  My eyes widened.

  “The Queen has made it painfully clear that you are my responsibility,” he said, absently caressing my thigh again. “However, her temper is legendary. One mistake and she will take it personally, and will take care of what she perceives as a problem. You, being the problem in her opinion.”

  That I had heard one too many times in my life.

  “I’m not a problem,” I argued. “I’m a person. A living, breathing, feeling person. Why does everyone have to look down their nose at me? Why do they have to think so little of me? What have I done to deserve that?”

  Now I’m emotional.

  That’s just great.

  I’m in a coffin, half naked, being caressed by my captor, and now I’m emotional.

  I can’t win!

  “You have done nothing to deserve it, that I am aware of,” he said, as if it were obvious. “But what you do in your spare time is still unknown to me.”

  The corners of my mouth twitched, fighting to keep from smiling at his very subtle joke and Luka-like tone.

  “Solnyshka, you are completely unique and that is why the world will stop at nothing to destroy you… At least it is in my experience.”

  Was he seriously going to leave it at that?

  Yes, yes he was.

  “Because I’m a Nightling?” I asked.

  His top lip snarled,
showing his fangs, and I leaned as far away from him as possible, hitting the side of the coffin.

  “You disobeyed me and left the protection of our home,” he snarled, as if he just realized I had done that.

  Since he’s in my head all of the time, he should have known that already.

  But he didn’t.

  “One, you never told me not to leave the church; not that you have a right to command that. Though, the fact your panties are in a twist over the revelation means the Night Hag blocked your connection to me, didn’t it?” I asked with a smile.

  Andrei glared at me. “You are not getting a pet ghoul in an attempt to keep me out,” he snapped at me.

  Now I’m getting one.

  ‘No you are not.’

  We’ll see.

  “Where did you go? Who did you see?” Andrei demanded.

  I shook my head. “That is none of your business. I have my own life, even if you are adamant on controlling it. I can have my own friends. Unlike you, they aren’t keeping what I am from me-”

  “And yet you do not know what that term even means,” he scathingly said, interrupting me. “Your friends will not tell you what they think you are. They will not touch you without recoiling. They will not trust that what they feel when in your presence, what they feel towards you, is real and not simply because of what they think you are. You will never be real to them. You are nothing more than an annoying, unsettling sense of déjà vu.”

  His tone, the look on his face, the way his eyes hardened and turned cold…

  A moment of civility was too much for him.

  “Unlike you,” I whispered, ignoring the tears flooding my eyes, “they don’t go out of their way to hurt me, to hurt my feelings, and to make me feel as if I am nothing more than a mistake that shouldn’t be breathing the same air as them. Unlike you, they actually want me around. Since you don’t, let me go and leave me alone.”

  Andrei continued to glare at me. “Nyte,” he sneered.

  Before I could stop myself, I slapped him as hard as I could, causing my hand to sting like nothing I’ve ever felt before then it went numb.

  His head snapped to the side to absorb the blow before it snapped forward again, his eyes narrowed in rage.

  “I’m so sorry,” I instantly started to apologize.