Wicked Kiss (Nightwatchers)

by Michelle Rowen

“Yeah, I mean...” But I stopped talking. At first glance, I’d assumed they were doing just that—two people kissing passionately, so into each other that they ignored the world around them.

  But at second glance...

  Before I could say anything or do anything, Cassandra walked directly toward the couple and grabbed hold of the man’s arm.

  He broke off the kiss and turned to face her. His eyes were black, his skin so pale in the darkness that it seemed luminescent.

  He was a gray.

  I turned my horrified gaze to his girlfriend—or, victim, rather—who looked just as Colin had earlier. Glazed, dazed, with the telltale black lines branching around her mouth. She collapsed to the ground.

  No one but us had witnessed this. We were fifty feet from the main road.

  The gray looked to be in his early twenties, and was handsome when his pallor returned to normal and his eyes shifted back to human.

  “Can I help you?” he asked calmly, wiping his hand over his mouth to remove traces of his victim’s lipstick.

  Cassandra’s hands clenched into tight fists at her sides. “I know what you are.”

  “Do you?” He raised an eyebrow at the blonde angel who’d stopped him from continuing his dark kiss.

  The girl who’d fallen to the ground wasn’t moving. Her eyes remained glazed, and she wasn’t snapping out of it as Colin thankfully had. The black lines remained around her mouth.

  “Oh, God. No,” I whispered.

  This gray had taken her entire soul in that kiss, and she hadn’t been strong enough to survive it.

  “She’s dead,” I said, louder. My stomach convulsed. “You killed her!”

  “Too bad,” he said without emotion. “She was very tasty.”

  Cassandra’s eyes flashed with rage. “You’re evil. A plague upon this city. Upon this entire world. You must be destroyed.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

  She didn’t pull out a weapon, but she stalked closer to him. I held my breath, watching, trying not to look at the dead girl again. I hadn’t seen anything like this before. I’d seen the kiss before, I’d been guilty of the kiss myself, but I’d never seen it kill anyone.

  This was proof that it could. That what I was, and what I could do—that this ravenous hunger I felt every hour of every day—was one hundred percent evil.

  I felt no pity for this gray. Instead, all I felt was rage. I wanted Cassandra to kill him right here and right now. She was a warrior like the others; there was no doubt in my mind about that.

  But as she drew closer to him, the gray watched her with open amusement. “You’re one of the people I’ve been hearing about. The ones trying to stop us from having any fun in this town.”

  She launched herself at him, her hands out as if prepared to grab his throat and strangle him. But with a flick of his wrist, he backhanded her. It was so hard that she went flying through the air and hit the wall on the opposite side of the street with a violent smacking sound.

  Cassandra crumpled to the ground unconscious.

  I spun to face the gray, stunned. “What did you—?”

  He grinned at me. “Impressed?”

  I rushed toward Cassandra and snatched a jagged piece of wood from the side of the road, holding it in front of me.

  The gray watched me carefully. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

  “Defending myself from a killer.” My voice shook.

  He laughed. “Seriously? You’re one of us, in case you weren’t aware. I saw you last week with Stephen at Crave.”

  Suddenly, I recognized him. He was one of my Aunt Natalie’s minions who’d hung out at the nightclub. This was one of the grays who’d held Bishop in place while Natalie tortured him.

  Fear and hatred stormed inside me.

  “You’re not supposed to feed!” I held the sharp piece of wood out in front of me like I was a vampire slayer. I wanted to check Cassandra and make sure she was all right, but I knew I couldn’t turn my back on this monster for a second.

  “I didn’t. Not for a long time. I tried to follow the rules.”

  “Why are you so strong? Grays aren’t any stronger than humans. What are you?”

  He studied me without looking the least bit concerned about my impromptu weapon. “You know butterflies start as ugly caterpillars, right?”

  My heart pounded so hard I could barely hear over the sound of it. “Is this science class?”

  He shrugged. “You need to come with me. We can be friends.”

  “I don’t want any more friends. Not like you.” Something occurred to me. My gaze snapped to his. “Where’s Stephen? I need to find him!”

  His lips stretched over straight, white teeth. “Come with me and we’ll all have a nice chat.”

  Crap. Even the possibility that he knew where to find Stephen was like throwing out tantalizing bread crumbs and then asking me to follow him to the loaf. But I couldn’t trust him.

  “No way. Tell me where Stephen is.”

  “Nah. Not if you’re hanging around friends like these.” He flicked a glance at Cassandra.

  I swallowed hard, not sparing more than a worried glance at the unconscious angel. “Why are you different than other grays?”

  “Am I?” He gave me a grin—one of those frustrating ones that showed that he believed he knew something I didn’t know...and he wasn’t talking.

  Even from a distance, I felt his evil like thick slime spreading over my skin. He had no remorse about the dead girl lying four feet away from him. Not even a glimmer.

  It was as if he had become one of the zombie grays—but he wasn’t mindless. It shouldn’t have been possible.

  Whatever he was, it was wrong. Dark. Malicious. He knew right from wrong, yet he’d chosen to destroy someone’s life anyway. He might have control, but he didn’t bother to use it.

  When he stepped closer to me I took a shaky step back. Cassandra was in my sightline, but she still wasn’t moving.

  “You need to join with the people who understand you,” he said. “Don’t get caught on the wrong side of this tug-of-war.”

  “How many are left?” I asked, my voice choked. “How many grays?”

  “Have you seen the papers? They’re calling us a kissing mob. A gang of people who randomly kiss strangers. They have no idea what we can really do. What we really are.”

  I’d seen it. It was buried in the Trinity Chronicle as an amusing fluff piece on page fifteen. Nobody realized what a threat it was. Nobody realized that the dozens of people who’d gone missing or turned up mysteriously dead in recent weeks—articles that ran much closer to the front of the newspaper—were related. It was a mystery. There were no signs of trauma found on the bodies, apart from the mysterious black lines left around their mouths. Those lines didn’t fade on a dead victim.

  “Give that to me before you hurt somebody.” He looked so calm it was maddening.

  When he reached for the piece of wood, I slashed it at him, cutting his arm.

  He snarled at me. “Bitch!”

  This time when he grabbed for my weapon I slashed the palm of his hand. Blood dripped to the ground as pain flashed across his expression.

  He whacked me across the face so hard that the makeshift stake flew out of my hand, and hit the wall. White-hot pain momentarily blinded me.

  I opened my mouth to scream, but he clamped his hand so tight over my mouth I thought he might break my teeth.

  He began to drag me down the street. “I think you need to feed. I can set you up. Your head will get a lot clearer soon. Promise.”

  “Let go of me!” My screams were muffled by his hand. I tried to bite him. I fought against him, scratching and clawing, but his bleeding arm may as well have been made of steel. This guy wasn’t human. Not in any way. And he was more than just a gray.

  If he shoved me in a small room with a human, based on how I’d dealt with Colin earlier, I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough to resist. Maybe for a little while, b
ut not forever. It would be my worst fear come to life.

  Suddenly, Bishop stepped out from behind the corner up ahead. For a moment I thought it was all my imagination, that my brains had been rattled when the gray hit me. But it was true.

  He was here.

  And he looked mad enough to kill.

  Chapter 6

  My heart leaped at the sight of him.

  Bishop’s gaze was narrowed and dangerously fixed on the gray. “Take your hands off her right now.”

  The gray removed his hand from my mouth, instead twisting it painfully into my hair to hold me still. I shrieked. “Is this the rescue party? Go check on the blonde. She’s one of yours. This one...she’s one of mine.”

  “Wrong,” I snarled.

  Bishop’s eyes flashed bright blue. The dagger was already clenched in his grip. “Roth, check on Cassandra. I’ll handle this.”

  Roth, who’d been standing just behind Bishop, moved toward Cassandra just as the gray shoved me away from him. I slammed hard into the wall, knocking my breath away and rattling my bones. I wheezed for a second and struggled to stay on my feet. This time, I tasted blood.

  I whirled around to see Bishop charge the gray, dagger in hand. Much better than a piece of sharp wood.

  “Be careful!” I yelled.

  He wasn’t being very careful. He didn’t hesitate—just as he hadn’t hesitated with Cassandra.

  At the last second, the gray brought his foot up to smash Bishop right in the face, knocking him backward. He landed hard on his back, but leaped back up a moment later, shaking himself off.

  “Interesting,” Bishop said with a frown. He was now bleeding from a vicious cut on his forehead.

  “Good word. Interesting. I’ll take it.” The gray grinned. “And I’ll take the girl when I’m finished with you and your friends. She’ll be happier with her own kind.”

  “You can try to take her. You’ll fail.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Bishop studied him with narrowed eyes. His gaze flicked to the victim lying nearby before grimly returning to the gray. “What are you? I thought you were a gray, but you’re something else.”

  “Nope. Just a run of the mill ‘gray.’” He even made sarcastic air quotes as his smile stretched. It was a term made up by Heaven and Hell, not by grays themselves. “Time changes things. By not slaughtering all of us last week, you gave us the time we needed to adapt, to evolve. We’re glad you sent Natalie’s ass back to the Hollow. She was a serious buzzkill.”

  “Bishop,” Roth growled. “We need Zach. Her back’s broken.”

  I stared at him with horror. I didn’t think a broken back could kill an angel—only being stabbed by the golden dagger could do that—but if she didn’t get healed quickly it could cause serious problems. She could be paralyzed.

  Bishop swore under his breath. “Let’s get this over with.”

  He stormed toward the gray again, but was deflected. He landed hard on his shoulder this time and I heard a sickening crunch. His dagger skittered across the pavement away from him.

  “Bishop!” I yelled, terrified he’d been hurt as badly as Cassandra.

  Roth got to his feet and rushed the gray but the gray easily slammed his fist into the demon’s face.

  I watched this with sheer disbelief. Grays weren’t supposed to be any stronger or any more dangerous than humans. Except for the kiss.

  But this guy...

  He’d just taken down two angels and a demon without even breaking a sweat. What was going on here?

  Bishop struggled to get to his feet, but the guy slammed his foot down on Bishop’s broken shoulder. Bishop let out a roar of pain and rage.

  Without thinking, I started for him, fists clenched.

  “Stay back, Samantha,” Bishop snarled. “Don’t get closer.”

  My steps faltered. I trembled as I searched the side street, looking for something that might help.

  The gray laughed loudly, and then glanced at me. “Ready to go?”

  No. But I was ready to kill him. Seeing Bishop hurt had brought something out from deep inside of me—something that saw red and wanted to inflict injury.

  But before I could take even another step closer—against Bishop’s wishes—the golden dagger sliced through the air, hitting the gray directly in the chest. He snarled with pain, then yanked it out and threw the now-bloody weapon away from him.

  I spun to see who’d thrown it. Zach had arrived and was crouched beside Cassandra. His eyes blazed bright blue in the darkness. Bishop’s weren’t the only eyes that did that; it was an angel thing.

  Zach had thrown the knife with perfect aim. And here I thought he was a peaceful angel who saved kids from drowning and could heal injuries.

  He was also a deadly warrior when necessary.

  For a horrible second I thought the dagger’d had no affect at all on this gray, that along with his super strength, he’d somehow become immortal and omnipotent.

  Not the case.

  He dropped to his knees. Blood soaked the front of his white shirt. He sent a hate-filled glare in my direction.

  “Take a good look,” he growled. “This is your future whether you like it or not. Soon enough, they’ll kill you, too.”

  He shuddered, then he fell forward onto the pavement.

  There wasn’t even a moment to catch my breath before the Hollow appeared out of nowhere and opened wide.

  I’d seen it twice before. Both times it had scared me so much I could barely function.

  Seeing a black, swirling vortex appear out of absolutely nowhere wasn’t the most natural sight in the world. It opened like a mouth with a bottomless hunger, ready to take whatever supernatural was in its path. It was triggered by a death, by blood, but it didn’t seem to differentiate between the living and the dead. If you were in its path, then you were in serious trouble.

  It was torture to think that Carly was in there somewhere—still alive. And I had no idea how to get her back out again.

  The gray was closest. With fingerlike tendrils of living, breathing darkness, the Hollow reached out like a horrible hand and pulled him into the vortex. I swear, it was bigger this time, and stronger, as if all of the supernaturals it had taken had made it gain a few pounds. It shifted as if scanning the area, stopping on me for a brief moment. I swear, the Hollow looked at me. Right at me.

  “Carly!” I screamed. “Carly! Where are you?”

  Maybe if she could hear me. Maybe...

  The horrific swirling gateway began to inch closer to me...nearer and nearer...

  But then Bishop grabbed hold of me and tried to drag me back, his teeth clenched with pain from his massive shoulder injury. It was enough to snap me out of my daze. I held on to him tightly. The Hollow wouldn’t hesitate to grab me. It had tried before, and I had the strangest feeling that it was annoyed that it hadn’t succeeded.

  “We’ll find Carly,” he shouted, barely loud enough for me to hear him over the roar of the Hollow. “But it won’t be tonight. I’m not losing you like this.”

  To my right, I saw a horrific sight. Cassandra’s unconscious body was sliding across the pavement toward the vortex that had moved away from me. It reached for her, black smoky fingers curling around her ankles.

  But then seemingly out of nowhere, Roth launched himself through the air, tackling Cassandra, and rolling them both out of range.

  With no one left in its sights, the Hollow began to swirl smaller and smaller until it finally, thankfully, disappeared completely. The thunderous sound—like being in the middle of a tornado—vanished like somebody had pressed the off button on a gigantic stereo.

  I still clung to Bishop. He pulled back from me, checking my face, my arms, making sure that I wasn’t hurt. His brows were drawn tightly together and his left arm hung slackly at his side.

  “Are you okay?” he demanded.

  I fought to breathe normally, but I nodded. “Bishop, your shoulder...”

  “It’s nothing.”

 
“It’s shattered.”

  “I’ll live. But you...” His gaze moved over my face, his brows tight together. “You’re not seriously hurt.”

  “No. But Cassandra is.”

  He swore under his breath. Then, with a last searching look, he pushed up off the ground and went to Cassandra’s side.

  It was so quick I’d barely had a chance to let the tantalizing scent of his soul affect me. I wished I could say that after what had happened with the gray it didn’t bother me, but it had. My hunger surged forward. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to push it back.

  “Can you fix her?” Bishop’s words to Zach were tight. Roth, Zach and Bishop gathered in a circle around Cassandra.

  I stayed where I was, a safe distance away, watching tensely.

  “I think so.” Zach gently rolled Cassandra over onto her stomach.

  I’d experienced something extremely similar nearly two weeks ago when a searchlight had led me to Roth. When he’d been “reborn” after the ritual, he’d immediately sensed I was a gray. And he’d been sent here to kill grays. He quickly and efficiently broke my neck. I’d been only moments away from death when Zach managed to heal me. And I swear, when an angel heals you, it’s as if nothing ever happened. Better than that, really. My neck had honestly never felt so good. Still did. He was like a Heaven-sent chiropractor.

  “Cassandra, can you hear us?” Bishop asked, touching her shoulder gently.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Hold still and let Zach help you.”

  “All right. Go ahead.” Her pain-filled eyes narrowed. “And hurry up.”

  I couldn’t help but smile shakily at that. The angel was very bossy and it didn’t matter what the situation was. I wondered if all host angels were the same.

  Zach pushed her sweater up farther to reveal more of her winged-tattoo-like imprint, identical to Bishop’s and the other angels’. Then he placed his hands on Cassandra’s spine and closed his eyes. His hands began to glow white. Cassandra cried out, and every muscle in my body tensed in sympathy.

  I remembered that this felt worse before it felt better—like fire burning straight through your flesh and into your bones.

  Finally, Zach returned her sweater to its regular position and helped her to her feet. She wavered unsteadily for a moment, but then got her balance.