by Lisa Kessler
This was the same Night Walker who told her he didn’t perform for mortals.
She gave his hand a squeeze and went inside. Their seats were in the tenth row center. Perfection. The moment the overture began, unexpected tears welled in her eyes. She’d dreamed about seeing this show on Broadway for years, but she’d never made the trip. These weren’t exactly the circumstances she’d hoped for, but either way, she was here. Issa brought her here.
His head turned slightly away from her, his attention on the doors, and she suddenly realized in spite of Apep searching for her, she wasn’t afraid.
The curtain rose, and the show unfolded around her, the bright green colors, the swell of the chorus. It was magic. She ventured a glance at Issa. His strong features were softened by the hint of a grin. Her heart made a curious flip to see him enjoying the story unfolding before them. She focused on the stage again, sinking into the music. The moment the witch’s broom lifted off the ground while she belted out “Defying Gravity,” the hair on Muriah’s arms stood on end, and chills wandered down her back.
Issa watched for any sign of Apep’s shadow serpents, but seeing Muriah’s face aglow with joy distracted him. He could tell himself it had been too long since he’d made love to a woman, but deep down, he recognized the futility of that argument. Seeing her happy was a gift. Instead of instilling fear or anger, somehow he’d found a way to bring her happiness.
He’d hurt her by discovering her psychic ability, but watching her smile gave him hope for forgiveness. He settled beside her again, alert, but still taking in the show. Seeing the story through the wicked witch’s viewpoint made her seem less wicked and more misunderstood.
He could relate.
As the final scene played out, Muriah’s hand brushed his leg. He covered her hand with his, cherishing the silent communication. As the curtain fell, his heart sank. He wasn’t ready to see the moment pass, for reality to weigh on his shoulders again.
Muriah rose from her seat, and he stood, applauding beside her. Once the curtain fell for the final time and the lights came up, she collected her playbill and he guided her through the aisle to the exit.
Outside the theater, Muriah turned around and found herself very close to Issa, his dark eyes on hers. “Thank you for tonight. That was amazing.”
He started to lift her hand to his lips, but stopped, his brow rising just slightly. “The serpents.”
He tightened his grip on her hand and hustled her back toward the lights of the theater. She glanced around and whispered, “Are they gone?”
“For now.” He kept scanning the shadows. “Where are we staying tonight?”
“I found a hotel by the airport. Lukas will have a room waiting for us. We just need a cab.”
His voice was low, his eyes still distant. “I should feed.”
“I thought ancients didn’t have to…eat every day.”
He finally looked down at her face. “We do not have to. I will live without it, but the influx of fresh blood keeps my senses sharp and my body strong.”
Flashes of memory of the heat that seared her senses when he drank from her veins distracted her. And the thought of his lips on another woman’s skin…bothered her.
“Are you all right?” He helped her into the taxi.
Muriah nodded. “I’m fine.” Inside, she struggled to untie the knots of her emotions. “I want to watch.”
Issa gave her a questioning stare. “Watch what?”
“You feed.” She raised her chin, hoping she looked determined. What was she doing?
Issa cleared his throat, tipping his head toward the driver and lowered his voice. “What is the purpose in that?”
“I’m curious.”
“About what? You have already experienced it.”
She shrugged and looked out the window, trying to tamp down her desire. It was happening again. How much more of a Mr. Wrong could she get than an ancient Night Walker? She’d never have a family. This was not leading her toward a future for her or her family’s store.
She couldn’t help herself. But if she didn’t start soon, no one else was going to do it for her.
“You’re right. Forget I said anything.”
His cool fingers brushed her cheek, drawing her attention from the window to his face. His noble brow, deep, troubled eyes, full lips…shit, she was doing it again. Muriah pulled back.
“Please stop it. Self-control isn’t my strong suit, and I’m holding on by a thread over here.”
“I never meant to hurt you.” He wasn’t touching her, but his gaze still warmed her skin. His voice was gravelly, meant only for her to hear. “I regret that I did not warn you on the plane that our thoughts might connect when I drank from you. But you were not the only one exposed. You witnessed pain I share with no one.”
The rest of the drive was spent in silence while Muriah pondered his words. Yes, she’d seen the blood on his hands, literally. She’d witnessed him cry to the heavens, knowing he would never be heard.
But she hadn’t seen it on purpose. Issa had. Or at least he had known it might be a possibility. He also apologized. How many people got an apology from a god?
The cab came to a stop under the awning of the hotel, and Issa got out and paid the fare. The driver stared at him until Issa finally murmured, “Remember nothing.”
“Does anyone in this world remember seeing you?”
“This is nothing new.” Issa turned her way. Emptiness shadowed his gaze, and she wished she could turn back time and shut up. “I was forgotten over a thousand years ago.”
“I’m sorry. I just meant—”
“I know what you meant.” He held the door open for her. “There is no reason for anyone in this world to have memory of me.”
Muriah checked in, relieved the prepaid room was ready. Just in case Apep had discovered her name, she didn’t want to chance leaving a paper trail by using her credit card. Calisto’s company made the reservation from San Diego. Not completely foolproof, but close enough for them to get out of town the following night.
She set her bag down and sat on the edge of the bed, but Issa remained standing. “Keep the door locked. I will return soon.”
“You’re back to ordering me around?”
He sighed. “I am going to feed.”
“Issa, wait.” He stopped at the door and turned around. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, either.”
“I have been numb for so long, you cannot hurt me.”
“It’s a great front you put up, but there’s more to you. I’ve seen it.” She got up, walking toward him. “And I’m coming with you.”
“No.” He shook his head.
“Why not?”
“Because I still do not perform for mortals.”
She groaned and rolled her eyes, trying not to picture his lips on another woman’s skin. “Look, we both know it’s safer if we stay together, so I’m coming along.”
“I can move faster than you can see. You would never find me.”
“And then I’d be out in New York at night alone.” She crossed her arms. “Your choice.”
Suddenly, the room was empty and the door was closed.
“Dammit!”
She opened the door and glanced down the empty hallway. Issa was gone. She pocketed her room key and raced down the hallway to the elevator. The doors popped open the second she hit the button, but the ride down seemed to take forever. She bit the inside of her cheek as her frustration level rose. If he thought he could boss her around and expect her to follow orders like some lowly peon, he had another thing coming.
She jogged out of the elevator and through the lobby. When she burst out of the doors, a tall man with black hair turned the corner of the next block down. It had to be him.
As she chased after him, she imagined what she’d say about how he ditched her, but deep down, the urgency had more to do with finding him before he fed. He crossed the next street, but the signal changed before she could follow. Watching through
the passing traffic, she saw him turn another corner. As soon as it was clear, she dashed after him. She rounded the next corner, and her strides slowed. She turned in both directions, scanning the sidewalks for him.
He was gone. She’d lost him.
“Shit,” she groaned, wishing her heart didn’t ache. He drank blood to live. She was just another one. Nothing special.
Wake up, Muriah.
This strange pang of jealousy left a bad taste in her mouth. She turned back for the hotel, the heat of her anger burned out. Muriah pulled her coat tighter and waited for the light to change. She should’ve stayed in the hotel room with the codex. But between her hot temper and visions of Issa cradling another woman in his arms, drinking her life into his body, she’d let her heart take the lead instead of her head. Stupid.
The memory of his kiss, passion glowing in his eyes, and that moment when the loneliness vanished, they all taunted her. His laughter echoed in her mind. He had a great, underutilized laugh.
She crossed the street, careful to stay within the glow of the streetlamps and avoid any chance of Apep’s shadow serpents finding her. This cycle of chasing after unavailable men had to stop.
Hell, this one wasn’t even technically a man.
But if she found him with another woman, seducing his prey the same way he had with her on the airplane? Maybe then she’d be able to switch off the attraction. It didn’t help that he’d taken her to see Wicked. He gave her such a gift in the middle of this mess. The chance to see it on Broadway and forget the insanity for a couple of hours was by far the kindest thing any man had ever done for her.
Her stomach tightened, and she froze for a second. She looked back over her shoulder toward the hotel.
Was she really only looking for him to prove to herself he was just like all the others? That was screwed up.
She turned to go back when she spotted movement from the corner of her eye. Frowning, she glanced down the alleyway. Her self-defense instructor’s voice echoed through her head. Car keys were a weapon. Too bad they were back in the hotel room with the codex. Shit.
“Need a ride someplace?” A man stepped out of the shadows to her right. “My cab is right around the corner.”
Sure it was. “No thanks. I’m good.”
She lengthened her strides.
He followed. “This isn’t a good neighborhood for a woman to be walking alone.”
“I’m not alone. My boyfriend is just getting the car.” Adrenaline made her hands shaky, but she managed to pull her cell phone from her pocket.
“I didn’t see no boyfriend.”
“I called 911. You better get out of here.”
He hit her right between her shoulder blades and knocked her down. Her cell phone smacked the pavement, the battery popping free and skittering out of reach. He tugged her ankles, dragging her into the alley. Muriah hurt all over, but survival instincts took over. The second he released her legs, she rolled over and pushed up to her feet, struggling to get air into her lungs. The greasy man jumped her from behind, flattening her chest to the pitted pavement again, his disgusting hand covering her mouth to muffle her scream.
His other hand wandered down her body. She could lay here and be a victim, or she could fight back. Fighting came naturally. She bit his finger, hard, and slammed her elbow up into his abdomen. He rocked back, coughing.
“Bitch.” He looked at his finger and glared at her. Muriah scrambled to her feet and broke into a wobbly run out of the shadowed alley toward the corner. He caught the back of her jacket, choking her when he jerked her back to him. She slammed into his chest and tossed her head back, connecting with his face. Stars flashed in her eyes, but he lost his grip on her coat.
Before she could sprint to safety, the man let out a wail. She turned to find Issa on top of him, his right hand pulled back, his fingers splayed like she’d seen in her vision. Her thoughts hiccupped somewhere between serves the bastard right and how will we explain a man with his heart ripped out.
Muriah rushed toward him. “Issa, wait.”
Too late. She closed her eyes, unprepared for the gore.
“I heard his thoughts.” Issa stood, keeping his right hand behind him. His eyes glowed deep crimson, his fangs extended. “He wanted to…hurt you. He has hurt others. Mercy was not his to claim.”
Muriah stared at Issa’s face, avoiding the remains of her attacker. “We can’t let anyone find him like this.” She finally allowed her gaze to slide down. Blood dripped off his fingertips on his right hand like it had in her vision. He was the god of sacrifice. She’d just witnessed it.
But this was no sacrifice.
Issa moved away and bent the man in half. “Wait for me.”
He and the body were gone. Muriah retrieved the pieces of her cell phone, replacing the battery and doing her best to keep from losing her shaky grip on her sanity. She didn’t feel bad for the asshat who probably had every intention of raping and killing her and then dumping her dead body in a garbage bin.
But seeing Issa in action reminded her about the danger that Lukas had mentioned. How many times in the thousands of years that had passed had he been taking lives, pulling out hearts that still beat in his hand? She’d seen the darkness in his eyes, the cold judgment, the rage.
This wasn’t the same man who sat beside her during Wicked. This was the darker side of him that chipped away at what remained of his sanity.
Tonight cost him. And it was her fault.
Chapter Fourteen
The hot shower wouldn’t wash away the horror of hearing that man’s sick desires whispered through his mind. Issa had dealt with countless mortals with similar appetites, but seeing his filthy hands touching Muriah had unleashed emotions he’d never experienced before.
The world was better off without the man, but Issa hadn’t passed judgment on him for the sake of the world he was sworn to protect. He’d done it out of rage and vengeance.
He’d done it to protect Muriah.
What else would he do for her? He’d already put them both at risk taking her to the theater just to see her smile, and he’d slaughtered a man without even scanning the area for witnesses first. Dangerous.
He turned off the water and toweled himself dry. Muriah never should have been out there tonight. Why did she ignore simple instructions? He’d wanted no part of her watching him feed. And now she had witnessed him kill without mercy.
Her opinion of him should not matter.
He stared into the mirror. His eyes were dark, calmed. His wet black hair fell just past his shoulders. Unlike his immortal brothers, his coloring matched their people, giving him a deep tan, although the sun had never touched his skin.
He appeared human.
Gripping either side of the sink, he struggled with the jaguar inside of him. After the evening’s primal urges, his spirit animal clawed to the surface, yearning for freedom. The small room closed in on him until it hurt to breathe.
“No. Xíik.” He ordered the jaguar back. It wasn’t fair, but shifting now, trapped in a small hotel room would be… problematic. He yanked open the door to find Muriah on the bed in a T-shirt and sweat pants.
She flinched at his sudden entrance. He tried not to notice. There was nothing he could do to assuage her fear now. Deep inside of him, the jaguar growled in warning.
Maybe she should be afraid.
Issa stood before her in nothing but a towel. Muriah sat up, desperately trying to remind herself that Issa was only wet because he had to shower to wash off the blood of her attacker.
He looked like he would have killed an army of men to keep her safe.
Thoughts like that weren’t doing anything to hold her desire in check. She was alive. She wanted to get lost in it, wallow in every physical sensation.
He paced around the bed like a caged tiger. Jaguar, she reminded herself. “Thank you for helping me tonight.”
He didn’t stop moving, but he did glance her way. “You should not have left this room.”
“I know. It was impulsive and stupid.” She wrapped her arms around her middle. “I was angry that you left me here.”
“Is your curiosity satisfied now?” He stopped, his eyes meeting hers. “Do you fear me like the detective and Lukas suggested?”
Muriah stood up, but made no move to approach him. Feral energy filled the room, as though he might vanish at any moment. “Should I be afraid?”
“No.” He frowned. “Perhaps.” He shook it off and continued pacing. “I cannot think here. There are too many people, too much violence.” His voice dropped off to a whisper. “If I harmed you, I could not go on.”
She stepped into his path, lifting her eyes to meet his. “I left because I couldn’t stay here knowing another woman was in your arms and you were making her feel the way I did on that airplane.” His head tilted slightly, questioning, but she went on, “You know what my favorite part of the Wizard of Oz is?”
He looked confused by the sudden change in subjects, but remained stoic before her.
“There’s no place like home.” Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat, willing her tears not to spill over her cheek. “I lost home when I lost my Mom. All I have left of her, of my entire family, is The Dimension’s Den. I just turned thirty. If my home is going to continue, I’ve got to get my act together and settle down. I need a family. I need to share stories of my ancestors and my mother. It never seemed like a big deal to me before, but now… They’ll be lost forever.”
The truth behind her admission frightened her. She stared at her bare feet. “I’m always attracted to the wrong guys, and I can’t get any more wrong than you. You’re not even human.”
There. The words were out. Now he’d understand why she needed to keep her distance.
He lifted his left hand, running his cool fingers along her jawline. “You are attracted to me?”
Oh lordy, she was in trouble. She nuzzled into his touch, closing her eyes. “Yes. But I’m trying to grow up. I need a family. My home…”
He tilted her chin up and kissed her, slow and tender. Finally, he whispered, “Forgive me. You are a constant temptation with your questions and defiance.”
