Of A Darker Nature

by Clay, Michelle

  “Oh come on, let’s play.” He got to his feet and moved in front of her. He placed his hands on his hips. “It’ll be lots of fun.”

  Emily’s foot lifted to run up the length of his leg. He rewarded her with a confident smile. Her foot rested on his thigh, just below the groin. “How would you like to wear these beneath your chin?”

  “Don’t be a cock tease,” Corey backed away, allowing her foot to fall to the floor.

  “That’s enough, Corey.” Evan shooed him toward the desk. “Marcus will kick your ass if he catches you doing that.”

  Emily glared at Corey. She was smart enough to know there must be a pecking order in the vampire society. Corey was probably somewhere toward the bottom. She might get away with standing up to the punk wannabe, but Marcus would never allow her to do the same to him. That didn't mean she'd allow him to push her around though.

  “You guys never let me have any fun.” Corey dropped onto the chair and put his tennis shoes on the corner of the desk. With more flourish than was necessary, he took up the comic book again. He peered over at her with a hungry expression.

  Evan whispered, “You have to be careful, honey. These young ones are pretty volatile and can't always control their bloodlust like the older vamps. Well, not all the elders do either. It’s not that they can’t, they just don't want to.”

  Emily tore her gaze away from the doorway at the far end of the room. “Where are we? I thought the mistress’s mansion burnt down.”

  “It did, but we have sanctuaries all over the city.”

  “What are the chances of him catching me if I run?”

  Evan grinned. “With Corey, you might make it out the front door and down the front steps. Marcus will be on you the moment I yell.”

  “Can’t blame a girl for asking.”

  He held out his hand as if he expected her to take it. “Is it true you can’t read vampires unless they’re truly dead?”

  She ignored the question and his outstretched hand. He might want to play friendly, but she wasn't interested. “Am I going to be allowed to leave?”

  “Isabella just wants to talk,” he assured her. “She’s trying to figure out where you fit into this puzzle and whether or not you pose a threat.”

  Corey set aside the comic book and ogled her now. He touched the ring piercing his left nipple and grinned. His gaze sought out hers, and he mouthed the words, “Come play with me.”

  Evan’s voice stole her attention. “You’re quite lucky, cupcake. Marcus usually allows nature to follow its course. The fact that he’s saved your butt more than once is remarkable.”

  The door at the back of the room banged open, and Marcus stepped through. He’d changed clothes, another dark shirt with jeans. He’d also combed his hair back in an effort to tame it. He looked unhappy, and Emily didn’t know how she felt about it. Marcus had a gorgeous smile, and she much preferred it over the angry, frustrated look he currently wore. On the other hand, he was a jerk and a vampire. Maybe Karma had come back around to bite him on his cute ass.

  Evan leaned closer to whisper, “Don’t give them a reason to harm you. And just so you know, she’ll probably want to test you. You know, to see if you’re the real deal or not.”

  Emily dropped her head into her hands and laughed to keep from crying. “I would expect no less.”

  They walked down the hallway, leaving Corey with his sneakers propped on the desk. Not given a choice, Emily walked between the two men. Evan linked his arm with hers and assured her everything was going to be okay.

  Marcus pushed open the door at the end of the hall and waited. He seemed peeved, and Emily was unsure if it was directed at her or the woman who waited inside.

  A woman who looked a lot like Evan sat at a wrought iron vanity. She wore a burgundy dressing gown, and her long, white-blonde hair hung loose over her right shoulder. Although she was ethereal and elegant, the time had stopped in her late thirties or early forties. She was stunning, no doubt, but there were faint lines around her eyes and mouth. Her hands were small and dainty. The left one was freckled with what Emily suspected was age.

  Isabella’s reflection smiled at her from the mirror, and something slick and oily twisted within Emily’s gut.

  Rich tones of crimson and cream decorated the room. Dark bedding was rumpled and turned back. The room was thick with the scent of sex and perfume. Emily’s nose tingled, and she fought an urge to sneeze.

  Marcus focused on her. His lips pulled into a grimace. He’d shown his true nature and no longer held any mystique.

  Evan took the woman’s hand in his. “Mistress, this is Emily Cross. You asked that she be brought to see you.”

  The woman turned from the vanity and stood. Smoothing the long silken gown over her flat abdomen, she smiled at the men. “You both may leave now. Wait in the hall, Marcus.”

  Evan’s expression seemed a bit troubled as he turned to Marcus.“Do you think it’s a good idea to leave them alone?”

  Marcus didn’t answer.

  Isabella advanced, a studious expression upon her face. She swept an arm toward a small divan and chairs on the other side of the room. “Shall we move to the sitting area?”

  The mistress did not wait for an answer. Instead, she glided past to sit on the edge of the divan. She stared at Emily with watchful, expectant eyes.

  Emily seated herself as far from the woman as possible.

  “Emilia, you’ve been in contact with the witch on more than one occasion. I find your behavior questionable.”

  “My name is Emily.”

  “Emilia is your given name. I will address you as such, and you shall answer to it.” Isabella’s voice carried just a hint of irritation. She adjusted her hair to drape over her shoulder. Her movements seemed languid, and Emily suspected it was just an act. “What is your connection to the witch?”

  “There isn’t one.”

  “You have a sibling. Elizabeth, am I correct?” She leaned closer, and a wicked smile twisted her lips. “It would be a shame if something were to happen to her.”

  “Don't you dare hurt her.” Emily gritted her teeth. She’d had enough of everyone’s threats. This cloak and dagger bullshit was getting old, fast. “What do you want from me?”

  “I want to know the relationship between you and Starr Carter. You will tell me everything, Emilia.”

  Emily winced at her given name. “I don't have one.”

  Isabella leveled an icy gaze on her. “You are not part of the witch’s coven?”

  “No, I’m not. I don’t know anything about witchcraft.” Emily shifted on the seat. “She came to me and asked for help. I turned her down.”

  “But you did help her.” The vampire moved, and Emily could do little more than spring to her feet. Isabella lunged, grasping her by the throat with inhuman force. She slammed Emily against the closest wall. “You read one of my blood-clan. What did you see? Did you tell her where I am?”

  The door banged open behind them. Marcus vaulted over the small divan, eyes dangerous and dark. He tugged Isabella’s hand from Emily’s throat. Holding the woman against his chest, he waited out her struggles. Emily pressed her back against the wall and sucked in a much-needed gulp of air.

  “Mistress, please!” Evan pleaded, but did not lay a restraining hand on her. “We might never find out what Starr is up to if you kill Ms. Cross. We were going to ask for her help, remember?”

  A slow, deliberate smile spread across Isabella’s features. The fine lines around her eyes deepened. “Take her downstairs, Marcus. Let's just torment the truth from her.”

  “I didn't tell Starr anything!” Emily sputtered.

  Evan circled them slowly. Emily couldn't mistake the fear and worry that warped his features. He said, “She’s not like us. We don’t use those methods on humans. Remember?”

  Now that Emily had calmed a bit, Marcus released the petite blonde.

  “Always the voice of reason, aren’t you, dear one?” Isabella moved away, a meditative expr
ession on her face. “We could erase her mind once we finish and none will be the wiser. We will dump her downtown when we finish. If someone else happens along to dispose of her, it would be no fault of our own.”

  A sick feeling settled in the pit of Emily’s stomach. She edged toward the door.

  Evan continued to play the part of the reasonable adult. “I bet that won’t be necessary. Emily will be more than happy to help us once she understands the significance of what’s going on.”

  All eyes turned toward her. Emily was eager to ease Isabella’s distrust. “I’m not a member of her coven—of any coven. I just met Starr a few days ago.”

  “Aside from reading David, what did she want?” Marcus took over the role of interrogator.

  Isabella frowned but allowed him to proceed.

  Emily noticed his eye color had faded back to pale blue. “She said her coven wanted to use my property to worship on.”

  Marcus nodded then glanced at Isabella. “She lives in Witcher Springs, Mistress. From what I gather, the witch believes the area to be full of magical power.”

  “I see.” Isabella seemed to be more level-headed now. “Did you agree to this, Emilia?”

  “No. Of course I didn't.”

  Marcus smirked at her. “Your purple-haired friend at the funeral home is in Starr's coven.”

  “Wren is not my friend. We're just acquaintances.”

  “You were studying the subject tonight,” Marcus pointed out. “If it isn’t the use of witchcraft, how do you explain your seeing-touch?”

  Emily stared at them, convinced they were all either deaf or power mad.

  Evan's hand gripped hers in reassurance. “It's okay. Just tell them how you do it."

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve been able to do it since I was a kid.” Emily glared at Marcus, hating him for dragging her into this mess. “I was searching through those books for a way to get rid of it.”

  Isabella appeared unconvinced. “Why did Trent attack you?”

  Emily looked at the door and would have given anything to escape through it. “I don't know why Starr sent him after me.”

  Marcus put himself between them, forcing Isabella to focus on him instead. “I believe the first time might’ve been a coincidence. They were after me and Emily happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Somehow they've found out about her ability. They might see her as a weapon to use against us.”

  “She must be destroyed.” Isabella's expression was dark and determined.

  “Not necessarily.” Marcus glanced at Emily, and she wished for the millionth time that she could read his mind.

  Isabella placed hands on her narrow hips. “Explain.”

  “I suspect she could be of use to us. Why not have her read Pete, find out what the witch is up to and maybe ferret out a location for us.”

  Isabella frowned and waved the suggestion away. “How will we know if she's lying?”

  “She seems like a smart girl," Evan said. His expression was full of warning.

  Marcus's smile screamed of predatory male. His gaze lingered on her modest breasts then swept down her legs. “I'm sure she knows what's at stake.”

  “Whoa, slow down." Emily cupped her elbows then hugged herself tight. "I can't just allow you to kill people so I can read them.”

  “Allow?” Isabella surged up off the cushions. Her fingers were hooked to resemble claws, and she bared her teeth. “I should kill you for your insolence!”

  Marcus grabbed Isabella in mid-leap. He deposited her gracelessly on the couch, causing the skirt of her dress to become rumpled and show her legs.

  He glared down at the city’s mistress. “Calm the fuck down, will you? We need her help.”

  The vampire flipped her hair and snarled up at him. “I will deal with you later, Marcus. It seems you have forgotten your place yet again.”

  Marcus chuckled though it held no humor. “Have I? Are you sure?”

  “What does Starr have against you?” Emily bit her lower lip, knowing she should just leave well enough alone.

  “We killed the witch's family.” Isabella’s upper lip twitched as if she struggled to hold back a snarl or maybe a sob. “Because of what I did, what I allowed my blood-clan to do… she wants revenge. Starr wants to take over my area and use her power to replace all the masters in Oklahoma. I believe she could succeed if given the chance.”

  “You don’t fear her?”

  "No!" Isabella's laugh was an almost soundless exhalation of air. “I do not fear the witch. I respect her! Vampires are by definition, magical creatures. It would be unwise for any supernatural being to turn a blind eye to her and her followers.”

  The vampire smoothed her hands down her skirt to hide her legs. “Starr has the potential for such greatness. I guarantee you, if she were to come into a considerable amount of power, things would be devastatingly different. We have to stop Starr and her coven. She is getting stronger.”

  Emily agreed though she did not voice her opinion. She didn’t know what the vampires did to keep order amongst their kind, but figured Starr would use whatever dark magic and creativity she could find.

  Without realizing it, Emily gravitated back toward the divan. She sank onto the cushions and gazed at the hotheaded nosferatu. “What if Starr is using Trent to shake you up? You may not believe he would do anything to hurt you, but what if she’s got control of him? What if she’s using that to her advantage?”

  Isabella narrowed her eyes. “Impossible. You are just angry that he harmed you.”

  “Hell yes, I’m angry. The bastard tried to kill me.”

  Isabella sat across from Emily, clenching and unclenching her fists on her lap. “Take care what you say, human.”

  It would be foolish to continue the argument. She chose a different topic. “How can we stop Starr?”

  A slight smile played over Isabella’s delicate features. “Oh, did you hear that boys? Our new friend wishes to help.”

  Marcus did not comment. Evan looked worried.

  Emily bristled. She didn’t like being pushed into a corner. “Wait, that’s not what I said.”

  “I am not sure if I can trust you. But I believe it would also be foolish to write you off as harmless.” Turning to Marcus, she motioned him closer. “Come over here, darling.”

  His blue eyes snapped up, but he said nothing. He looked wary and perhaps a bit annoyed.

  Isabella turned to Emily again. “Touch him. Tell me what you see.”

  Marcus’s face contorted into a scowl. “Mistress, this won’t prove anything.”

  Emily stared at his clenched hands.

  “Forgive me, but I’m not able to read your kind. I can only read those who are actually dead.”

  There seemed to be a warning in Marcus’s glare. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what it meant.

  A snarl lifted the corner of Isabella’s mouth. “Take her hand. Let me see for myself.”

  His fingers curled around hers. Isabella leaned forward and watched her face for any reaction.

  Emily concentrated on seeing what lay within the labyrinth of his mind. He squeezed her hand too tight and made the bones pop and crack in protest.

  “Are we done? There are more pressing matters to attend to.”

  Marcus didn’t bother to hide the impatience in his voice. He also hadn’t let go of her hand. Thankfully, his grip eased.

  Isabella picked up a throw pillow and mutilated the fringed edge with crimson fingernails. “We are not done until I am satisfied. This girl knows far too much. We must be careful in how we proceed.”

  Marcus turned his light blue gaze toward Emily. “What did you read from David?”

  “Not much. I saw what happened to him after they dug him up.”

  Isabella’s icy gaze fell on Emily. “It is a pity. I hoped this child might be of help, but it appears she is useless.”

  Emily backed away. They were all mad, every single one of them.

  Isabel
la stood, her expensive dress rustling with the movement. “Take her down the hall, Evan, but do not let her out of your sight. I must have a word with Marcus.”

  Evan looked distraught but led Emily from the room. Back inside, they were discussing her uselessness and how Marcus should dispose of her. Thank heavens he argued back.

  Isabella burst from the room, skirts all aflutter. “Bring her to the interrogation room. It is important that she sees what is down there.”

  Marcus was at Emily’s side in a blink of an eye. His fingers clamped around her wrist and dragged her toward the other side of the hall. His expression was hard to read, and that worried her.

  They followed a narrow, dim hallway until they came to another door. This one had a thick steel handle. Evan rushed forward, a keychain with a devil’s head on it in his hand, and unlocked it. Marcus pushed her through the doorway.

  Someone flipped the light switch to drown the room with golden light. Emily's stomach roiled at the pungent aroma of rot and death. Her eyes and nose watered.

  A stainless steel table similar to those at the mortuary sat in the middle of the room. A drainage grate was on the floor beneath the table. Various tools and instruments lay atop a nearby pushcart. Dried blood stained the walls and floor.

  A man slumped in a nearby chair. His arms and legs were strapped down with what looked like steel bands, but Emily suspected they might be silver. He appeared to be unconscious or dead. Fear radiated through her, and she stopped in her tracks. What if they forced her to read him and she had to relive his excruciating death? His chest lay open, filleted and raw. Part of his ribcage lay exposed, as were some of the meaty bits inside. Blood ran down his arm and dripped onto the floor. Even worse, what if they did the same to her?

  “Did you bring her here to read me?” a hoarse voice at the back of the room asked.

  Pete hung from shackles suspended from the ceiling. Emily gasped at the sight of his battered body and shredded clothes. Thick, acidic bile rose in her throat. It wasn’t ribbons of fabric, but flesh that hung from his chest and arms. Several of the wounds oozed reddish-black pus. His greasy hair hung like a curtain around his face and obscured more gashes.