Shadow Form (Dark Impulse Book 2)

by Edmund Hughes

  Jack sighed. “Fine. Set it up. Think this guy will take a check, or…?”

  “You’ll have to pay in cash,” said Katie. “Or at least transfer the money to me so I can. I doubt you’re going to want this to have much of a paper trail.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Jack was the last to eat dinner, and he ate alone in the dining room while Katie and the girls he’d saved watched another movie. They’d turned the lights off, and from their occasional gasps and shrieks, he assumed they were watching something scary.

  He was a little surprised that they’d be interested in a horror movie after the ordeal they’d been through. In truth, he was even more surprised by how much better the women seemed to be doing after only a few hours of freedom. They’d been transformed. All it had taken was a shower, fresh clothes, a filling meal, and most importantly, hope for the future.

  He finished the delicious beef stew that Ryoko had prepared, mopping up the last few drops with a crusty piece of bread. His hunger was sated, but not his thirst. He pressed his fingers into his temples, groaning at the pain reverberating through his skull.

  Jack stood at the edge of the lounge, managing to catch Katie’s attention without interrupting the movie. She stood up and walked over, setting her hands on her hips as she came to a stop in front of him.

  “No,” she said.

  “What?” said Jack. “I didn’t even—”

  “I know what you were going to ask,” said Katie. “And the answer is no. You can’t get in the habit of feeding twice in one day. I’d just be enabling you if I let you.”

  Jack groaned. “Katie, I’m in pain right now. Please…”

  He reached a hand out, setting it on her shoulder and letting his thumb venture toward the spot on her neck where he usually bit. Katie pushed it away.

  “It isn’t always just about you,” said Katie. “Letting you feed as you please… It’s affecting my life, too. My relationship with Bruce, even. I’m sorry, Jack.”

  “You’re just going to let me suffer?”

  She shrugged. “Yeah. You can always get blackout drunk and pass out, if you need to. I’ll be by again in the morning to help with the girls, anyway. You can feed then.”

  “Katie!” Jack reached out for her again, but she was already heading back toward the couch. He scowled into the darkened room for a couple of seconds and then took a deep breath and headed down into the basement.

  Could he blame her for not wanting him to feed off her? Of course not. Katie had been his lifeline, but she didn’t owe him anything. She’d been helping him for her own reasons, and wasn’t obligated to let him drink from her whenever he pleased.

  Jack pulled a bottle of wine from the wine cabinet, found the wine cork, and twisted it open. He took a sip, frowning at the bitter flavor of the particular vintage.

  It was still early in the night. Would it even make sense to knock himself out on alcohol so early? He’d be wasting the evening. More importantly, he’d be wasting another opportunity to track the men who’d attacked Ryoko while their trail was still fresh.

  Jack forced himself to take another deep swig of the wine and came to a decision. If he could keep himself focused and productive, it would make his bloodthirst more manageable. He drank as much as he could from the bottle, appreciating that the alcohol at least somewhat numbed his headache, and quietly headed upstairs to his room.

  He pulled on his grandfather’s black leather duster, which had a thin inner chainmail layer for protection. It had been a gift from Katie rather than the old man himself, but he still felt as though he had his grandfather’s blessing whenever he had it on. Walking as softly as he could, he made his way to the mansion’s back door and slipped outside.

  It was a few hours after sunset, and it was still raining, though he’d spent so much time in it earlier in the day that he barely noticed. Martine’s home would take him at least half an hour to get to, since he didn’t want to risk exacerbating his bloodthirst symptoms by drawing from his vampiric speed. He set off immediately, not wanting to be gone any longer than necessary.

  The leather duster was surprisingly waterproof, and Jack lamented the fact that it wasn’t the kind of garment that he could wear during the day without attracting attention. He wiped water from his face and hair as he ran, and still felt reasonably comfortable when he finally reached Martine’s driveway.

  Her mansion looked different at night. Several exterior floodlights lit up the yard to an annoying extent, but Jack didn’t see her car in the driveway. He crept up as close to the outer fence as he dared, and then considered his next move.

  He had even less blood essence in his reserves than he’d had on his last visit, so casting Shadow Form was completely out of the question. From what little he could see of the mansion’s interior through the windows, he suspected that nobody was home. All the lights were off, and it was too early for Martine and whoever else lived with her to already have gone to bed.

  Jack opted for a somewhat pedestrian solution. He picked out two security cameras and did his best to anticipate their fields of view. Then, he scaled the fence in the tiny gap between what they could see, dropped down to his stomach on the other side, and began wriggling toward the mansion.

  With his face oriented toward the ground, it would be hard to identify him even if his assumptions were wrong and one of the cameras could see him. As Jack approached the mansion’s outer wall, he turned around completely, pressing his back flat against it.

  The security camera to his right was positioned in a way that covered the door he planned on using to enter. However, Jack did have enough blood essence to cast his less magically intensive spells. He extended his arm toward the camera and cast Spectral Hand. The spell made his temples throb, but he still managed to thrust the crimson tendril forward, spearing through the camera’s casing and rendering it useless.

  With the camera out of commission, he had the breathing room to focus on the door properly. Jack conjured a Spectral Lockpick, feeling a little dizzy from the sudden expenditure of blood essence on such low reserves. It only took him a few seconds to get the door open, but he all but stumbled into the house afterward, dazed by both the symptoms of his bloodthirst and the alcohol he’d drank in an attempt to counterbalance his state.

  The inside of Martine’s mansion was, in fact, empty. Jack didn’t bother turning any lights on. His night vision was good enough to let him make out the basic details. Martine had a flair for the extravagant, and every room seemed piled with expensive furniture and rare artwork.

  He slowly moved through the estate and eventually settled on waiting in Martine’s bedroom. She had a four-poster bed with a canopy curtains, along with a massive walk-in closet and a love seat, which Jack collapsed into. He considered taking his shoes off, before deciding that it would be a little too presumptuous. He was there to get answers out of her, after all.

  To get answers out of her. Yeah, that was why he was there, he reminded himself. To find out exactly what she knew about Monty and Khumar and the sickening operation that had almost doomed the girls he’d saved to lives of enslavement. He was there to get answers out of Martine. Part of him desperately hoped that she’d be unwilling to talk.

  Minutes went by. An hour at least, by the feel of it. Jack was getting impatient when he heard the front door finally open. The faint sound of a woman humming came from the first floor. He forced himself to wait where he was, hidden in the dark of her bedroom. He was the predator, and he wasn’t interested in announcing himself to his prey just yet.

  He didn’t expect her to head straight to her bedroom, but he was still surprised by how long it took her to make her way through the house. Jack heard another door open and shut, followed by the sound of running water. And then the sound of soft humming again, approaching footsteps, and finally, she entered the room.

  “Hello, Martine,” he said. “Don’t turn the light on.”

  Martine froze. She slowly lowered the hand she’d been stretching toward t
he light switch, and then folded her arms defensively across her chest.

  “I don’t know who you are, or why you’re here,” she said. “But you’re a dead man. It’s almost funny how badly you’ve botched whatever it was you were intending.”

  Jack didn’t say anything. His head was hurting again, and he suddenly found it hard to organize his thoughts. He could smell Martine, and while her scent wasn’t delectable in the same way as Katie’s or Ryoko’s, she still had an alluring aroma. Powdery, with a slight cinnamon quality.

  “Did you hear me?” asked Martine. “My employer won’t just kill you. He’ll torture you, first. If you have a family, or loved ones, he’ll kill them too.”

  “That’s actually why I’m here,” said Jack. “Why don’t you tell me more about your employer? He sounds like an interesting guy. Do Monty and Khumar work directly underneath him? Or do they report to you?”

  “I’m not telling you a goddamned thing,” said Martine. “You’re a fool if you came here thinking I’d wilt like some childish little girl. I’m a professional.”

  Jack lazily reached an arm forward, extending a Spectral Hand tendril and using it to slam the door shut behind Martine. She flinched backward, glancing behind her, as though expecting another intruder. Jack stood up and slowly made his way toward her.

  “I wasn’t planning for things to go this way,” he said. “I really wasn’t. I’d feel better about this whole thing if I could have gotten what I needed from you the normal, old-fashioned way.”

  “Do your worst, you pathetic little wretch!” snapped Martine. She sneered at him, but Jack could see the uncertainty in her body language, even in the dark.

  “This isn’t my worst,” said Jack. “In fact, you might even enjoy it more than I do.”

  He wrapped his tendril around Martine’s wrists and pulled her toward him. She let out a surprised gasp and tried to flail out with one of her legs to kick him. Jack dodged easily, sliding behind her and hooking an arm around her shoulders.

  “You fucker!” she cried. “I’ll kill everyone you care about! I’ll make them suffer, first!”

  “No,” said Jack. “You won’t.”

  He shivered with anticipation as he pulled back Martine’s hair, and could almost feel his own excitement in the tips of his fangs. Jack didn’t hesitate as he plunged them into her neck, and he felt the air in Martine’s lungs escape her lips in a shuddering gasp.

  Her blood tasted okay. It was a little bland compared to the taste of Katie’s, but it still quenched his bloodthirst. Jack drank it from her with a no-nonsense, utilitarian efficiency, feeling none of the surging eroticism that came with drinking from women he was attracted to.

  Mira had told him that most vampires could only feed off members of the opposite sex, or the same sex, if they were gay. And as he drank from Martine, Jack felt like he could understand just why that was.

  Even though her blood wasn’t the tastiest, it was still hard for Jack to limit himself as he fed from her. He let out a soft, satisfied moan as he felt his blood essence reserves replenishing. Martine gasped. Jack had released her hands as soon as his fangs had made contact, and now she was massaging her breasts in a way that reminded him a little of the stereotypical woman in a shampoo commercial.

  He had to force himself to stop when he’d had enough. Martine fell to her knees as he pulled back. The last thing Jack wanted to do was to take too much and risk draining her. He needed her for information, but even more so for the access she had to the people he was hunting.

  “How do you feel, Martine?” asked Jack.

  “I…” Martine slowly shook her head. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking before.”

  “How do you feel?”

  “I feel good,” said Martine. “I feel… amazing. How did you do that?”

  Jack chuckled.

  “It’s a little hard to explain,” he said. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

  “What I said before about hurting you, and the people close to you, I am so sorry. I wasn’t—”

  “I know,” said Jack. “How about this? You can make it up to me.”

  “Anything,” said Martine. “Just tell me what to do.”

  She moved in closer to him, putting her arms around his neck and trying to press herself into him. Jack smiled and gently removed himself from the embrace, then began explaining to her what he needed.

  CHAPTER 20

  The plan was simple enough. What Jack needed Martine to do was to continue acting like her normal self and set up a meeting between him and her boss. Her boss, as she carefully and thoroughly explained to him, was a mysterious man named Emanuel Jacques. From there, he was relatively sure that it would only be a matter of forcing the man to give up Khumar and Monty.

  Martine had more information to give Jack about the manner in which her organization operated, but he didn’t really care about that. He wasn’t sure how much responsibility he was willing to take for the group. His goal in the beginning had merely been to get vengeance for what had happened to Ryoko, and between the girls he’d rescued back at the mansion and Martine’s enthrallment, he had to wonder if he was getting in over his head.

  The rain had let up a little, making the walk back to the mansion more comfortable than the walk out had been. Still, the overcast sky seemed to imply that the storm wasn’t over just yet. The streets of Lesser Town were empty, and the combination of night and fog gave them an eerie ambience.

  Jack made his way up the slope and into the mansion through the front door. The lights were off inside, and he was a little surprised to find Ryoko sitting on the bottom steps of the stairs. She stood up and bowed as he approached her.

  “Mr. Masterson,” she said, in a quiet voice.

  “I should start docking your pay every time you call me that instead of Jack,” he said.

  She smiled a little at that and brushed a few strands of black hair back behind her ear.

  “I’m surprised that you’re still awake,” said Jack.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she said. “It’s hard for me not to think about—you know. What happened.”

  Jack felt the smile fading from his face, but took solace in the way Ryoko seemed to hold her composure.

  “You didn’t have any trouble tonight, did you?” asked Jack.

  “No,” said Ryoko. “The girls you rescued fell asleep pretty early. There were plenty of beds in the empty rooms in the servant’s chambers for them. They seemed really happy about having clean sheets to sleep on.”

  Jack nodded. “And Katie? Did she head home?”

  “Not too long after you left,” said Ryoko.

  “Did she ask about where I was?”

  “I told her that you’d had too much to drink and went to bed early,” said Ryoko.

  “Perfect,” said Jack. “Though I hate that you had to lie for me.”

  “We all have our secrets,” Ryoko said, in a quiet voice.

  Jack nodded slowly, wondering if she understood the gravity of his.

  “Thanks,” said Jack.

  “I should be the one thanking you, sir,” said Ryoko. “I mean… Jack.”

  “Why?”

  “For what you did today,” she said. “It means a lot to me. More than you probably know.”

  “I was just doing what I thought was right,” said Jack.

  Was that really what he was doing? He had to wonder. Part of him was beginning to feel like his quest to punish Monty and Khumar had just become a smokescreen for his true desires. A way of justifying taking any means necessary, including crossing over the line, feeding and enthralling as he pleased.

  “It’s not always easy to know what’s right,” whispered Ryoko. “But when I see you doing the things you do… It makes me feel safe. It makes me feel like I can trust you.”

  “You can trust me,” said Jack.

  Ryoko took a shy step forward. She was pretty, but so vulnerable. She could trust him, though. Jack would rather die than let himself bet
ray that trust. He reached his hand out, letting the tip of one of her fingers rest just underneath her chin. Ryoko’s eyes fluttered closed, and Jack leaned in and kissed her.

  He wasn’t sure why it felt so right, but it did. She was so pure, and yet so damaged. So different from Katie, with her confidence and judgment. Ryoko was loyal to him, and Jack wanted her to know that the loyalty went both ways.

  “…I should head to bed, sir,” Ryoko whispered, almost as soon as their lips had parted.

  “I’m sorry,” said Jack. “I… shouldn’t have done that.”

  “No,” she said. “It’s okay. I liked it.”

  She pressed her hand against his, which had moved to caress her cheek. Then, she leaned back in, planting a cute, very tentative kiss on Jack’s lips in response.

  “Thank you,” whispered Ryoko.

  “For what?” asked Jack.

  “…I don’t know.”

  Jack chuckled, and Ryoko blushed and buried her hands in her face, letting out a tiny, embarrassed squeal.

  “Good night, Ryoko,” he said.

  “Good night… Jack.”

  They split apart from each other, Ryoko heading to her room in the servant’s chambers, and Jack heading upstairs. He shrugged off his duster as he slipped into his bedroom, feeling exhausted. Without taking the time to do anything more than flip off the light switch, Jack collapsed into bed.

  He fell into a deep sleep, for a time. A rustling noise pulled him half-awake, followed by the sensation of a soft body moving to straddle his. Jack let out a soft groan at how good it felt and slid his hands against bare thighs and buttocks.

  He let his eyes flutter open, expecting to see Ryoko. Instead, Jack found himself staring at Mira, who smirked at him as she slowly ran her hand across his chest.

  “What… the hell are you doing here?” Jack reached up and abruptly pulled her off him. She let out a surprised and slightly offended noise as she rolled onto the mattress.

  “I thought you’d be happier to see me,” said Mira. “At least, this part of you seems happy.”