Reaper's Dark Kiss

by Ryssa Edwards

  The draining, Vandar knew, would grow harder to control. A sub D blood would grant him perhaps a year’s reprieve. With red gold brimming through her veins, Sky Jordan was all that stood between the Lord of the Dominion and a death sentence.

  Chapter Two

  Her hand was on the door to the lobby when Julian said, “Sky.”

  She turned.

  “Don’t go to the park alone. If you don’t call me, call someone else.”

  Standing on the bottom step, one hand on the iron rail, Julian had a quiet intensity about him, like a warrior who would fight to the death to protect whatever he claimed for his own. “In between looking at flowers,” Sky said, pulling the door open, “you better be thinking up answers.”

  Upstairs, Sky unlocked the door to her fourth-floor apartment, tossed her tablet on her desk, and hurried to the window. Julian was gone. She let down the blinds, shut the blackout curtains, then pulled out her phone. Three e-mails from her editor, one of them reminding her of a deadline in two days for a new Fang Killer story. Sky had nothing new. Not one thing.

  Going to her desk in the living room, she sank down in her office chair and leaned back until metal creaked. She’d gone to the park tonight hoping to get a feel for the killer, or for the place itself, and maybe come up with an angle. Closing her eyes, she sketched Julian. Sky did this after a tough interview when she couldn’t figure out a way into the story.

  Julian was over six feet tall, big-muscled, and olive-skinned. His black hair had been pulled back into a leather tie. He wore an ankle-length duster that was faded lighter than black, supple. It moved with him in a strange way. It was either weighted, like curtains, or it was lined with something heavy. His jeans, faded beyond ancient, clung to legs built like columns. Full lips, deep brown eyes, and angled cheekbones gave his face an exotic, almost Persian look. They called it Iran now, but there was something about Julian, as if he came from an older place, an older time.

  The strangest thing had happened in the park. The way he’d come out of the trees tonight, Julian had scared the life out of Sky. But for a moment she’d been almost overcome by a raging desire to knock him to the ground and ride him hard. How crazy was that?

  Very crazy, she told herself and tried to push the lingering feelings away. One look was enough to know Julian was a dangerous man. Sky had a life to live, a career to build, and…his eyes were a warm invitation to forget all that and maybe—

  Sky sat up with a start. She’d heard something just outside her door. Or had she been falling asleep? She held her breath, listened. Nothing.

  Oh hell. This was getting her nowhere.

  She turned her mind to the killings.

  She’d stopped by a few hospitals and hijacked her night-shift contacts into coffee. No one just sits still and gets exsanguinated, Franklin, one of her doctor sources, had told her. Losing that much blood meant a deep cut somewhere—the abdominal aorta, vertically slashed wrists. There weren’t any cuts on the corpses. They were so fresh, rigor mortis had barely set in. And where the hell was the mess? Whatever happened had been fast. There was no sedative found in the tissues. So, Franklin had finished, what you’ve got is a guy who knows how to make people sit still so he can drain them dry through self-sealing microscopic holes.

  In other words, an impossible crime. She went to the window and raised the blinds. Dawn ate at the gray edges of the city’s darkness. Day was frighteningly deceptive, a cruel lie, full of sunshine that hid death in dim corners. Sky had gotten the worst news of her life on a bright sunny afternoon.

  She turned her back on the coming daylight and wandered back to her desk. What had Julian said? His words came back to her: “I’m hunting him, just like you are.” Hunting? That was a strange way to say it. No. It was a good way. A headline way. She booted up her laptop and settled into the scarred leather chair. Hours later, when yellow light seeped through the seam of her blackout curtains, she had half a story finished. It was called “Citizen Hunts Fang Killer.” Time to hit the shower.

  Afterward, she set her phone on silent ring, extra-loud alarm. Her rent was discounted because her bedroom had no windows. She closed her bedroom door and slid between crisp, cool sheets. How did Julian know Mace and a Taser were too slow? Since this whole Fang Killer thing started, he was the only one Sky had talked to who acted like he knew exactly what was going on. To finish the story she’d begun, she had to get more from him.

  Damn! She’d almost forgotten. It had been three days since her last text to her brother. She grabbed her phone and sent him a message. It was only two letters, OK. She dropped the phone on the nightstand and turned over.

  Before sleep spiraled her down to dreams, Sky thought about the walk home this morning. Julian’s footsteps had faded, and she’d thought she was alone. She’d turned to make sure he was still there, and she could swear that—no. That was impossible. Tonight she’d make sure she took a hard look at Julian in moonlight.

  Chapter Three

  The man’s intent gaze never left Sky. He murmured promises in candlelight, reached for her, and their lips nearly met, but thunder rolled and…

  Sky turned over and shut off her alarm.

  By the time she’d dressed and answered e-mails, it was after midnight. She was about to call the number in her notebook when she thought better of it. She didn’t know anything about Julian, but he’d promised to answer two questions. If she asked the right ones, she could have enough to finish her article and meet tomorrow’s deadline. But what if her call woke him up?

  She smiled at the thought. Julian’s voice was hoarse, sexy. Hearing his voice full of sleep and even deeper wouldn’t be so bad. She lost her smile. Well, it wouldn’t be so bad till he told her to call at a sane hour and backed out of meeting her.

  Thinking about what to do, Sky went to the window. Through the parted curtains and slitted blinds, she barely made out a vague manlike shape across the street. It was the third time this week.

  Strange men following her was part of her job. When she set up a meeting, it was standard for the kind of men she interviewed to have her followed. They had to make sure she was just a reporter, not a reporter working with the cops. Of the three men on her calendar for the next two months—an ex-drug dealer, a former white slaver, a local politician—the man standing just beyond the streetlight’s halo could work for any of them. But she had an off feeling about him.

  She decided to go to Aunt Millie’s, a nearby diner, and call Julian from there. On the way, she’d see if this guy was following her or what. She slid her notebook into the pocket of her jeans, put her tablet in her backpack, grabbed her keys, locked up, and took the back stairs. Her phone was in her hand, her Taser in the other. She could dial 9-1-1 with a touch.

  Her sneakers were a whisper on the sidewalk in the quiet night. She listened but heard no footsteps behind her. By the time the diner came up on her left, she was convinced she was alone. She turned in. If heaven were an all-night diner, it would smell like Aunt Millie’s, homemade blueberry pie and coffee brewed so strong it would wake the long dead.

  She snagged a booth by the window, then dialed the number from her notebook. She was looking out the window, waiting for Julian to pick up, when the man whose face she’d vaguely seen over the last couple nights went by. He turned to Sky and gave her a grin that didn’t touch the eerie glow in his violet eyes.

  As she watched, two sets of fangs, slender and graceful, grew from his top and bottom gums, over his teeth.

  “Hello?” Julian was saying.

  Sky was shaking, but she kept her voice steady. “This is Sky,” she said. “We met in the park last night.”

  “Yeah,” Julian said, and she could hear his smile through the phone. “Got your tablet ready?”

  The man who’d flashed fang had vanished into the night. Sky sat back and ducked her head, studiously not looking outside. “Got some answers for me?”

  “Where are you?”

  “Aunt Millie’s. It’s a diner near—
”

  “I know where it is.” Julian’s voice took on an edge. “How did you get there?”

  “My chauffeur dropped me off in my convertible Benz,” Sky said. “It’s a tough two-block walk. How long till you get here?”

  “Not long,” he said. “Wait for me inside.”

  Any other time, Sky would have balked at Julian ordering her to stay inside. But all she said was, “I’ll be in the back.”

  While he’d been talking, there’d been sounds on Julian’s end, clothes sliding on, shoes thudding to the floor. Now, there was smooth silence. “You all right?” he asked.

  “Fine,” Sky said, thinking of fangs in a mouth crowded with too many teeth. “I was nervous about calling. Thought I’d wake you up.”

  Sounding completely unconvinced, Julian said, “A few minutes and I’ll be there.”

  Then the connection broke, and Sky couldn’t take her eyes off the street. She forced herself to admit it. What she wanted more than anything right now was to see Julian emerge from the night, leather duster flowing out behind him, cool eyes alert, ready for trouble.

  Thinking back to the phone call, she realized how comforted she’d felt at the sound of his voice and his promise to be there. It reminded her of the voice in her dream. She got out her notebook and wrote on the first blank page…Fangs? Shadow?

  When Julian said a few minutes, he wasn’t kidding. Just as she was putting away her notebook, he came in. From her booth at the far end of the long diner, Sky watched him. He strode to the counter and ordered coffee, taking in the place with the covert glance of a soldier scanning for danger.

  The harsh fluorescents emphasized the angles in his face and how they contrasted with the full, sensual curve of his lips. Tonight, his hair was loose, hanging past his bulky shoulders, thick and wild. His brown eyes were dark, almost black.

  A coffee cup in each hand, he came down the narrow aisle between booths. The way he moved, with a rough grace, made Sky think of a fighter who’d spent years honing his body for combat. She checked. Julian was throwing a shadow. But this wasn’t moonlight.

  Setting one of the cups in front of her, he said, “You look like the two-sugars, one-cream type.”

  Sky was about to say something when she saw a silhouette move through a pool of yellow streetlight outside. The walls of the diner seemed to close in on her. She suddenly wanted to be away from all this light that made her think she saw things like fangs in a grinning face.

  Taking the coffee in one hand and shouldering her backpack, Sky said, “I’m ready. Same spot as last night.”

  “No.” Julian said it too fast and too hard. It was an order. In a much quieter voice, he said, “I’ll show you somewhere in the park I like.”

  Sky’s hackles went up. “You said we’d go back.”

  “But I didn’t say we’d go to the same place.”

  “Where, then?”

  A slow smile surfaced on Julian’s face. “That would be question number one. Sure you want me to answer?”

  Chapter Four

  “You don’t have to answer.” Sky slid her gaze past Julian to the window. “But this question counts, and I’m good with that. Are you licensed to carry?”

  Julian had felt something last night he’d never felt before. He’d come to the diner tonight wanting that same feeling again with Sky. Now, as she asked him if he was able to protect her, a sensual scent came from her. It was desire, shot through with sweetly innocent fear, the girl inside the woman, in search of a protector who would love her forever.

  The mixture galvanized Julian, blasted his senses at a million gigavolts per second. His bonding instinct, imprisoned by the fall, suddenly broke free. Shades called it the haeze. All he thought, all he felt, all he believed was forever fused into a single furious urge to protect his intended mate. It was exhilarating, like flying against midnight clouds through moonlight.

  The pink blush rising to Sky’s cheeks told Julian his haeze was stirring her feelings. That happened only once in a Shade’s lifetime, when they’d found their Forever Mate. That meant Sky was the only woman in this world who could have Julian’s children.

  The beast in Julian rose in a roaring demand.

  Protect her.

  Make her mine.

  Sky was a Sun Worlder. She was as fragile as a flower in the face of his blazing heat for her. But his beast raged on.

  Mark her.

  Make her mine.

  He struggled to restrain his beast. If Sky knew that from this moment on, instinct would drive Julian to have her or die trying, she might be frightened away. And once a Shadow Worlder lost their Forever Mate, there was no other for them. Without Sky, Julian would be condemned to wander the face of this world alone the rest of his eternity. But now that he’d found her, it was time for the courting and wooing to begin.

  “Was I not supposed to ask you that?” Sky said. “You quit talking and went quiet like a cat prowling Mouse Alley.”

  Pushing back thoughts of Sky naked in his bed after a long day of making love, Julian made himself focus on her question. He was licensed to carry death. “Why would I have to be armed?” He’d felt Sky’s jitter of nerves over the phone. “What happened before you called?”

  Sky shifted, uneasy. “Can we just go? The fangs are getting on my nerves.”

  Julian ran his tongue over his teeth for a fast check. Nothing. “The what’s getting on your nerves?”

  It felt like Sky looked right through him. “The walls,” she said. “Feels like they’re closing in.”

  * * * *

  Julian would have gone anywhere with Sky if it meant keeping her with him the rest of the night. On the way out, he got a carrier and put the coffees in it.

  Outside, the August night was cool and calm. He noted that Sky was so distracted, she didn’t ask any questions. He led them into the park and chose a bench that was nearly hidden under the spreading leaves of an oak tree. Sky sat with her feet on the bench, her knees pulled up close, her back against the stone arm. Julian swung his legs over the opposite end, took the black coffee, and gave Sky the one with cream and sugar. She sipped in thoughtful silence.

  “You ready to tell me what happened before you called?” he asked.

  “No.” Sky put her cup on the bench, took out her tablet, and started typing.

  It was a quiet night. The news that Julian had been sent after the drainer had spread, and from what he could see, Shadow Worlders were staying off the streets. No one wanted to fall under a reaper’s suspicion for draining.

  Rustling leaves were the background as Sky’s fingers chattered against the screen. Her soft lips were pursed into the perfect pout for a kiss. Her mouth would be a start, and then Julian wanted to kiss her everywhere, kiss her throat, her breasts, her smooth belly. He’d take Sky slowly, ease into her silken softness before he—

  “You owe me an answer,” Sky said, typing steadily. “I hope you’re thinking about it.”

  That rocked Julian out of his thoughts. He said, “I found some of your articles online. You really interviewed a guy on death row?”

  Sky’s face lit up. She set her tablet down, picked up her coffee. “That was a tough one. Took me months to get the interview. Thought he’d be dead before they let me in.” She gave Julian a curious look. “You checked up on me?”

  He’d checked everything he could find, which wasn’t much. Her online bio talked sparingly about her parents, her brother, and her college degree. “Just wondering what you do that makes you sit around Central Park in the middle of the night,” he said.

  “White slavers who pay for foreign women to go to school and learn English, dope dealers who smuggle medicine to sick people who can’t afford it—bad guys with a conscience.”

  Reading Sky’s stories was one thing. But now he was courting her. He couldn’t just let her talk to dangerous people who would probably only meet her at gods only knew what hours of the night. His beast clawed at him, demanding that he protect Sky.

  “
Can I see your phone?” he said.

  “Why?” Sky dug it out of her pocket and handed it over. “Adding superspy gear so you can find me?”

  Taking the phone, Julian said, “Putting in my numbers. Notebooks get lost.” He showed Sky the phone. “Use this one first. Leave voice mail anytime. If it can’t wait, use the second one. I’ll get back to you as fast as I can.”

  “You just met me, and you’re putting both your numbers in my phone?”

  With a grin, Julian said, “I didn’t think you’d say yes to me moving in.” He gave her phone back. “How come those people talk to you? They sound like the kind who like their secrets.”

  “I listen.” She tilted her coffee cup gently side to side. “Everyone wants to tell their story. It’s how we are.”

  “What about you?” he asked her. “What’s your story?”

  Sky shut down like a walled city under siege. That confirmed what Julian thought. After what happened to her parents, she kept people at a distance, as if she knew everything had an end, and the only way to avoid endings was to avoid beginnings.

  “I didn’t mean to pry,” he said, resisting the urge to take her into his arms, to tell her that he wasn’t going anywhere. Not tonight. Not ever.

  She focused on the tablet’s screen, doodling freehand. Two curved lines emerged, ending in sharp points. “Can’t concentrate,” she said and swiped the screen into empty black. “Question two, what do you do, and who do you do it for?”

  “Bodyguard,” Julian said, itching at the lie he used in the Sun World. “Can’t say who for. My clients like their privacy.”

  “You know what’s funny about you?” Sky’s silvery-gray eyes scrutinized Julian in a way he wasn’t used to. “Everything you say sounds like a cover story. There’s almost enough to make sense, but not quite.”

  Buying time with a few slow sips of coffee, Julian said, “What do you think I’m covering up?”