Storm the Night

by Zahra Stone

  “They’re coming tonight, aren’t they?” voice one asked, sounding a little hesitant, a little unsure.

  “Defo. Got word from Jarrod. Practically the whole senior year will be there. Make sure you wear a condom, bro. Don’t want to get the damn bitch pregnant.”

  I almost sniggered out loud. So, they figured it was okay to drug and rape a girl but don’t get her pregnant?

  I’d been listening so intently that I jumped when Kay slid my order in front of me. I thanked her, taking the opportunity to turn and see who the teenage boys were, see if I knew them, but their table was now empty. Damn.

  “Hey.” I stopped Kay before she moved away. “Is there a party tonight? Teenagers?”

  “Oh yeah, it’s all the young uns have been talking about all week. Jarrod Reed’s folks are out of town, and they’re having a pool party. Don’t worry, the sheriff has already been alerted, and he’s promised to do a drive-by to check up on ‘em, keep them out of too much mischief.”

  “The Reeds…. out on Watermill Road?”

  “Yeah, that’s the place. Why? You thinking of going?” Kay laughed, and I joined in.

  “Nah. Just curious. I remember when Jarrod was in diapers. Hard to think of him at high school and throwing parties.”

  “He’s seventeen now. A real looker too.” Kay wiped down the table next to me, then hustled back to the counter, leaving me to ponder what to do about what I’d overheard. I didn’t know who the two boys were, and I wasn’t one hundred percent sure they intended to drug the girls, but it sure sounded that way, and I could not let that happen.

  While I ate my muffin and drank my iced tea, I pulled up the internet on my phone and began researching Maxxan High School, following the link to social media and taking a stab at who Shannon and Becky were. Of course, there were three Rebecca’s, but only one Shannon. She was a pretty blonde with blue eyes, and I’d bet she was up there as one of the most popular girls at school. Becky, though, was going to be trickier to find. Looked like I’d have to check out the party in person and see if I could identify who the two boys were and teach them a lesson they wouldn’t forget in a hurry.

  With a plan formulating in my mind, I hurried back upstairs. There were a few hours to kill before I headed out. I usually didn’t hunt humans, but I was prepared to make an exception tonight. And I’d start early. Teenage high school kids were bound to hit the drink early and wipe out before midnight. I needed to stop that from happening.

  I spent the afternoon finishing off the graphic design jobs I had pending and posting another ad online to hustle for more business. The excellent thing about being a graphic designer was that I could accept clients from anywhere in the world. If I were reliant on the small pool of contenders in Maxxan, my business would have gone under before it had begun.

  Just before seven, I stood in my underwear, matching, of course, flipping through my wardrobe. Tonight wasn’t about sex appeal. Tonight was about stopping two little shits from becoming utter assholes. And two girls from a traumatic experience that would haunt them for the rest of their lives. I settled on ripped jeans—Armani—and a flag print T-shirt—also Armani. I vetoed heels for Nikes. Leaving my hair in its braid over my shoulder, I quickly touched up my makeup, slid my cell phone into my back pocket, and grabbed my keys. Time to party!

  The party was in full swing when I pulled up at the curb outside of the Reeds’ house, even though the sun had only just gone down. Cars were parked the entire length of the street, and I shuddered to think how many drunk kids were going to get behind the wheel tonight. Maybe I’d do the rounds and confiscate everyone’s keys.

  Slamming the car door, I headed up the path. Dixie cups littered the front path, and I frowned. It looked like this party had been going for some time already. My suspicions were confirmed when I pushed open the front door without knocking, loud music assaulting my eardrums, chaos assaulting my eyeballs.

  Girls danced in the lounge room, waving their arms in the air, drinks spilling as they giggled and twirled and eyed the boys. The boys, in turn, were dragging on cigarettes, swigging whiskey straight from the bottle, and, I assumed, were doing their best to look cool. Shaking my head, I wove my way through the crowd. The boys I’d overheard this afternoon had been right. Looked like the entire bloody school was here. Dodging groping hands and ignoring wolf whistles, I squeezed my way through the lounge room, through the kitchen, and around to the den. It was impossible to identify anyone’s voices amongst all the racket.

  I’d done three laps of the entire house, upstairs and down, and was on the verge of giving up when I heard him. Closing my eyes, I zeroed in on his voice.

  “You okay, Shannon? Looks like someone has had too much to drink.” A laugh, some shuffling, then, “Why not lie down on one of the beds upstairs, sleep it off for a bit. You’ll feel better.”

  “Yeah. Okay.” Waiting in the hallway, my eyes zeroed in on a brown-haired boy, skinny with acne on his cheeks, his arm supporting the pretty blonde I’d seen online. Shannon. This was it. He’d already slipped whatever it was into her drink by the looks of things. She was all over the place, leaning heavily on him to keep herself upright, her eyes glazed. He had to get her upstairs fast for his plan to work before she passed out completely and someone came to her aid. Someone who didn’t intend to rape her. What he didn’t know was that someone was already here.

  Stepping forward, I blocked his path, and he frowned at me with angry eyes.

  “Hey. Out of the way. My girl isn’t feeling well. She needs to lie down.”

  “Not with you she doesn’t.” Tilting Shannon’s head up, I peered into her unfocused eyes. “Honey,” I said to her, “do you know this boy?”

  “Ish Cory. Blanard,” she slurred.

  “Is he your boyfriend?” I pushed. She shook her head, no.

  “Do you want to go upstairs? With him?”

  “Listen up, bitch,” Cory spat, furious I was spoiling his fun. “She’s with me. Fuck off.”

  “You listen up, mother-fucker,” I growled, nose to nose with him, my anger greater than his, my voice telling him I’d tear him to shreds and leave him bleeding at my feet. “I know you drugged this girl and intend to rape her. How about a little role reversal, huh? How would you like to feel helpless, at the mercy of someone else?” Pulling Shannon away from him with one hand, I grabbed him with the other, shooting a bolt of electricity from my body to his. He seized immediately, his body shaking and vibrating as he fell to the floor and twitched. A puddle of moisture stained the front of his pants where he’d pissed himself.

  Shannon giggled, then slumped against me. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I dragged her outside to my car, settled her on the back seat, and locked her in while I went back to find the other girl, Becky. I hoped I wasn’t too late.

  Cory Blanard was still on the floor when I came back in, throwing off the effects of the electric shock I’d given him. A crowd had gathered, not knowing what had happened but pointing and laughing at his wet pants. He scrambled to his feet and bolted out the front door. I let him go. I hoped his experience tonight would be a lesson learned.

  My frustration grew as I searched the house for the other boy, stopping to listen, trying to pinpoint anything untoward. It wasn’t until I was on my third lap upstairs that I thought I heard something from behind a closed door.

  “Lift your hips, fuck, help at least a little.” Someone grunted. Was it the same voice that I’d heard earlier in the day? “Come on, bitch!” Angrier now, and what sounded like a slap. Okay, drugged girl or not, hitting anyone, girl or boy, was not acceptable. Busting through the door, I was pretty sure I’d found who I was looking for. A plain-looking brown-haired girl lay on the bed, glasses askew, a red-haired boy was at the foot of the bed trying to pull down her jeans. There was a red welt on her cheek where he’d struck her.

  “Well, well, well,” I drawled, “what do we have here?”

  “Get out!” The boy's voice broke, and he flushed, dropping Becky’s
legs.

  “You have her permission to take her clothes off?” I quirked a brow at the comatose girl.

  “Of course. She’s my girlfriend,” he sputtered, the flush staining his cheeks darker.

  “Just because she’s your girlfriend doesn’t automatically give you permission to do anything you want to her body. Especially when she’s unconscious.”

  “It’s got nothing to do with you. Get out.” He raised an arm and pointed at the door behind me. I ignored him.

  “Interesting thing just happened downstairs,” I said conversationally. “A young man had drugged a girl with the intent to have sex with her while she was out cold.”

  “W-w-what?” he squeaked.

  “That’s called rape,” I offered up. “Just because she doesn’t say no, doesn’t mean yes. And being unconscious is a dead giveaway.”

  I looked from Becky then back to him. “What’s your name?”

  “Blake Stevens,” he blurted, then realized what he’d done and suddenly spun away muttering, “Oh shit.”

  “It’s only fair I give you the same treatment I gave to Cory Blanard, Blake Stevens.” He blanched when I said Cory’s name. He was busted, and he knew it. He suddenly made a run for the door, but I grabbed his wrist as he drew level with me and jolted him with electricity. Just like Cory, he fell to the floor, seizing. And just like Cory, he lost control of his bladder. Kids. No control.

  Stepping over him, I crossed to the bed, tugged Becky’s jeans back up, and tossed her over my shoulder. No one stopped me when I carried her through the house and out to my car—it had me shaking my head at the youth of today. Did no one lookout for their friends anymore? Technically I was abducting two teenage girls, and they sat back and watched me do it. What a fucked-up world.

  After strapping Becky into the passenger seat, I drove to the hospital. I didn’t know what else I could do for these girls, and god only knows what drug and what dosage the idiots had used. The police were called, and I hung around to give my statement, sitting in the emergency waiting room while parents were called, staying until the girls responded to treatment and I knew they were okay. Hours had passed, and it was almost one in the morning by the time I was done.

  Walking across the hospital parking lot to my car, I froze. Was someone behind me? I’d swear I’d heard footsteps, yet when I looked over my shoulder, no one was there. When I’d arrived at the hospital, the parking lot had been packed, and I’d been forced to park a fair distance from the entrance. Now it was eerily deserted, only a handful of cars. Not that the dark spooked me. It was just spooky in general.

  With a shrug, I continued on, pulling up short when a vampire appeared in front of me. He didn’t look happy. In his hands were two blades. Coupled with the fangs extending from his gums, he made a formidable opponent.

  “What do you want?” Bending my knees, I braced myself, hands to my sides, a flaming dagger in each.

  “Your blood, for starters, bitch.” He snarled, lunging. I dodged, swiping with my own blade. We both missed, regrouped, and circled each other.

  “That’s kinda random, douche. You hang out at hospitals a lot, waiting for your next victim?”

  “You killed my friend. I’m gonna make you pay.” Oh shit. What I’d suspected with Nate had now come true. One of the vamps I’d offed did have friends who gave a damn that they were dead. My bad.

  “Maybe you wanna join him?” I taunted, wriggling my blades at him.

  “Bitch.” He lunged again and around and around we went. I’d slashed him over a dozen times, he’d missed me, and I wondered if he’d ever done this before because he was terrible at it. He looked dark and mean and threatening, but he didn’t have the goods to follow through. That made me laugh, and a snort escaped, enraging him. He came at me, and I roundhouse kicked him, knocking a blade from his hand and sending it clattering across the asphalt. Switching out a dagger for my flaming lasso, I did a quick check over my shoulder to make sure we were alone in the parking lot—it wouldn’t do to have a civilian catch me waving fire around.

  That was my mistake, of course. Taking my eyes off him, even for a split second. I roared in pain as his blade buried deep in my shoulder. I lost my connection with the lasso, but I still had my other blade, and I swung it around and into the side of his neck. We fell, and he landed on top of me, crushing the air from my lungs. The pain in my shoulder was excruciating, the blade still in place, his hand still wrapped around the hilt, and the jarring impact pushed it in further.

  His eyes were green with a hint of red at the edges, and they stared into mine as I twisted the knife in his neck. This wouldn’t kill him, but it would hurt like fuck and incapacitate him for a few seconds. Enough to whip the blade out, reposition my arm between us, and slide the knife deep into his chest. He froze, then poof. I was lying on the ground, covered in blood and ash.

  “Gross.” I coughed, spitting out vampire ash. I’d never killed one on top of me before, and I made a mental note not to do so again because they landed all over you. The cough jarred the dagger still buried in my shoulder, and screwing my face up, I grabbed the handle and pulled. “Faaaarrrrkkkk.” I hissed, almost passing out from the pain. Son of a bitch, this sucked big time. Cradling my arm to my chest, I struggled into a sitting position. I had to get out of here before someone came out of the hospital and spotted me. Dragging myself to my feet, I leaned against my car, contemplating my next step when my phone vibrated.

  Pulling it out of my back pocket, I looked at the screen. Nate. How the hell did he have my number? And how the hell was his number in my phone? I didn’t see him program it in. With a sigh, I swiped.

  “Yeah?” I answered, doing my best to sound bright and bubbly and hide the pain throbbing through my shoulder and down my arm.

  “Where are you?” Nate demanded.

  “At the hospital.”

  Silence, then, “You’re hurt?” Was that concern in his voice?

  I laughed, a harsh, pain-filled sound. “Would a fire demon come to the hospital if she was injured?” I bit out, “No. I had some business to attend to. I’m all done now. Just leaving.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Why?”

  “Something is wrong. I can hear it in your voice. Don’t lie to me, Paige.”

  I was silent again, wondering how much to tell him when a car turned into the parking lot. I dropped down to hide, unable to stop the groan at the sudden movement.

  “You’re hurt.” Damn him and his super vampy skills. I had this under control. I knew I could heal myself. Rae and I had discovered it in Grandpa’s fireslinger book. I needed to flame. To allow myself to be consumed entirely by my fire. Only I couldn’t do that in the parking lot of the hospital. I couldn’t do it in my apartment either. I’d burn the entire building down. I needed somewhere totally private, somewhere where there was no risk of being seen. Somewhere perfect for a fire demon. Grandma’s house. Technically, Rae’s house now, but to me, it would always be Grandma’s house.

  “Paige, you still with me?” Nate’s voice through the phone jerked me out of my thoughts.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Look, I’ve just got one more thing to take care of, okay? Sorry, I know you said we had to work tonight, and I’m not reneging. It’s just… something came up that I had to deal with.”

  “Something that involved you taking humans to a hospital.”

  “Just give me an hour or so, and I’m all yours.”

  “I look forward to that.”

  I opened my mouth to retort to his innuendo, but he’d hung up. Peeking through the windows of my car, I searched for the vehicle that had just arrived, saw it had parked near the entrance. A man and a heavily pregnant woman were slowly making their way inside. Once they were out of sight, I stood and made my way around to the driver’s side, sliding inside with gritted teeth. Now I knew what being stabbed felt like, and I had to say, not a fan.

  Driving one-handed was a challenge, but the roads were clear at this hour of t
he morning. Glancing at the clock on the dash, I calculated I had enough time to get to Grandma’s, flame, then get back to my apartment with minutes to spare. I pictured Nate in my mind, waiting with arms folded across his chest, leaning with feigned patience against my apartment door, and smirked. I guessed someone as powerful as him wasn’t used to be being kept waiting. Too bad.

  Of course, I could have told him I was injured. He could have healed me without all of this drama, but I’d also figured out something else while I was searching for the girls at the party. My hearing isn’t that good. Usually. Only ever since Nate had healed me with his blood? My senses were heightened. My vision was clearer than ever before, my sense of smell intensified, my hearing vastly improved. That was why I’d overheard the boys in the bakery. And that was how I’d found them at the party. Nate’s blood had changed me. I didn’t know if it was a permanent thing, but I did know I didn’t want any more of it. Although the devil on my shoulder pointed out how cool these enhancements were, two girls would be waking up tomorrow morning violated if it weren't for them.

  “Damn it!” I slammed my fist against the steering wheel in frustration. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. Activating the Bluetooth on my phone, I called Rae.

  “Paige? It’s almost two in the morning. Is everything okay?”

  “Shit, sorry. I forgot about the time.” Where was my head? I was using hands-free via the car speakers, and Rae sounded like she was all around me. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

  “You can call me day or night, hun, no matter what. But since you’re calling in the early hours of the morning, something must be wrong. Spill.”

  “How does this flame thing work?”

  “Are you hurt?” she shot back. I shrugged, then winced at the reminder—do not move your shoulder, idiot.

  “Just a scratch, but I’d like to try the flaming thing, negate the healing period.”

  “And how did you get scratched?” she drawled, knowing I was lying.