We traveled to Capitol Hill, a lavish neighborhood built by some of the area’s most wealthy businessmen and industrialists. Azriel had wanted to buy a home here once, but instead humored my desire to live away from the elitist community. It reminded me too much of unpleasant memories from my human life, and I wanted to sever all ties with those who found merit in others simply by the numbers in their bank registers.
Vasili Ergorov’s home stood out on the street, tall, wide, and imposing. It was just like a gangster to flaunt his wealth, I supposed, and Vasili obviously wanted his peers to take notice. We passed from shadow to our corporeal forms just before the driveway, and I trailed behind as Azriel strode up to the door like he owned the place. We entered the foyer, only to be met by four angry looking guys carrying Smith and Wesson revolvers. Azriel smiled pleasantly as he handed his dagger over into their care and allowed them to pat his body from head to toe. It was when they turned their attention to me that Ergorov’s men met a less-than-amicable Azriel.
“Lay a finger on my . . . associate, and I’ll rip your arms from your sockets.”
“We ain’t lettin’ you another foot closer to our boss till we know you’re both clean.” The guy who spoke must have been Ergorov’s head . . . what? Bodyguard? Strong arm? Minion?
“He’s clean,” Azriel said. “You can take my word for it.”
“Yeah, right.” The head minion snorted and then moved toward me.
I instinctively stiffened, determined not to look afraid. I tucked my chin closer to my chest so that my face would be shadowed by the brim of the fedora I wore. I didn’t want their hands all over me. It wouldn’t take much of a groping for Ergorov’s men to discover the womanly curves hidden beneath the overcoat and suit jacket. And Azriel knew that it would cause us both a world of trouble if they found me out.
“Jesus Christ, Charlie!” A thickly accented voice boomed from the second story. “Azriel wouldn’t pull a fast one. Not on us.”
The minion pulled away, giving me a steely-eyed appraisal before moving out of the way. Azriel jerked his chin toward the staircase, and I tucked my hands in my coat as I climbed the stairs toward the voice on the second story landing.
Azriel trailed behind me, but not so close as to arouse suspicion. The man who waited for us at the top of the stairs looked much too young to be an ambitious crime boss with scores of goons at his disposal. My surreptitious appraisal revealed a kid no older than maybe twenty, with olive skin, sparkling black eyes, and an open, friendly smile that seemed a contradiction to our very presence in his house.
“Lorik,” Azriel said, shaking the young man’s hand. “I take it your father is indisposed?”
Ah, the prodigal son, no doubt. Lorik laughed, the sound just as open and jovial as his smile. He clapped Azriel on the back and led us down the hall. “You know him, too busy—and too important—to sit down for any kind of meeting.”
Lorik opened a set of French doors that led to a library. He ushered us in and shut the doors behind him before taking a seat behind a Louis XVI desk. Leaning back in his chair, he appeared not to have a care in the world. But beneath that calm façade was a shrewd calculation. He all but ignored Azriel as his eagle gaze had settled on something of interest.
Namely, me.
“No wonder you didn’t want her frisked.” He reached in a deep drawer and produced a bottle of Canadian whiskey and three glasses.
“Her?” Azriel repeated, his tone caustic.
I stepped further into the shadows, somehow hoping that they’d protect me. I had no idea what Lorik made of the situation, or if he suspected us of something. No one would believe that I was simply Azriel’s apprentice. Or that he’d insisted on dressing me as a man for my own protection. When you kept the company of criminals, everything you did was suspect. As far as being in danger, we had nothing to worry about. Neither Lorik nor his father could do any real harm to us. But I was sure Azriel didn’t want anything to get in the way of his blossoming business relationship with the Armenian.
“She’s a looker.” Lorik raised his glass to me in a silent toast. “I’d keep her nice and covered up too, especially in the company of bastards like us.” Lorik filled a glass for Azriel and pushed it toward him. He took the offering with a scowl and drained the glass in one swallow before handing it back for a refill. “Ah, don’t feel bad my friend. To a less discerning eye, the illusion is acceptable.”
“Let’s get down to business,” Azriel said, without responding to anything Lorik had just said. “It’s late, and I’m tired.”
“My father will want proof.” Lorik’s tone had changed. No longer booming with amusement, but dark and serious. “Not that you’re untrustworthy, of course.”
“Of course.” Azriel’s tone dripped with sarcasm. From his pocket, he produced the ring he’d taken off of Joe’s finger. He tossed it to Lorik, who caught it in a quick, fluid motion. He turned the ring over in his hand as he inspected it and then pulled a handkerchief out of his coat to wipe Joe’s still-fresh blood from his palm.
“A little messy, no?”
Azriel shrugged in response. “Dead is dead. What do you or your father care how the job gets done?”
Lorik laughed, once again lighthearted. He reached into another drawer and produced a thick envelope which he tossed to Azriel in much the same fashion he’d delivered the ring. “I have a feeling you’re going to be worth your exorbitant price,” he said. “My father will be pleased.”
Azriel tucked the envelope inside his jacket and drained his glass, placing it back on the desk. “I’m more than worth it. Give Vasili my regards.” He moved toward the door, pausing only long enough for me to step out in front of him.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your companion before you run off?” Lorik asked as if disappointed.
Azriel turned to face him, and I paused just outside the door. “Not tonight, Lorik.”
“It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Azriel.” Lorik’s voice seemed to follow us out of the room and into the hallway. “And please, bring her with you the next time you come around!”
No one but I could hear Azriel’s murmured response, “Don’t count on it.”
I pretended not to hear, but as we walked out the door, Azriel gave me a sidelong gaze. “This was a bad idea, Darian. Too risky. We can’t afford to invite scrutiny of any kind. I won’t take you out with me again.”
Chapter 9
For the next two nights, I felt a restlessness I’d never experienced before. My skin seemed stretched tight, the rooms of our apartment closed in on me, too small. And the air weighed down, almost too heavy to breathe.
I couldn’t get the image of Joe’s girlfriend out of my mind––the fear in her eyes as I whispered in her ear, the nervous trepidation as she’d done what I’d told her to do. And though I knew I’d done my part, I couldn’t help but wonder what had become of her. Would she find a new sugar-daddy? A man more dangerous than Joe? And would she be spared again if caught by her lover’s enemies?
Azriel lay next me, his arm draped across my stomach. I listened to the sound of his breathing, the even rise and fall of his chest. In fifteen years, I’d never told him how I felt about him. And in turn, he’d never professed his affections for me. I didn’t know what love was. My parents had never spared much time for me, and seemed happy to see me married off and out of their home. And Henry . . . he hadn’t shown me an ounce of kindness, let alone love. I wasn’t even sure if I knew how to love, but I thought I loved Azriel. He had to love me, as well. He showed me kindness and passion. He protected me and saved my life. If that wasn’t love, I didn’t know what was.
Had Joe’s mistress felt protected?
I left my corporeal form, and Azriel stirred for a moment before settling back into sleep. The gray hour of dawn couldn’t be too far away, so rather than take the chance of bein
g caught without the shroud of shadow to protect me; I dressed in the suit and tucked my hair up into the fedora. I cast one last look at Azriel and brushed my fingers through the silky-soft strands of his hair. He couldn’t protect me forever. I was going to have to learn how to take care of myself.
I wandered invisible, unsure of where I wanted to go or what I wanted to do. It’s not like I was looking for trouble, but for some reason, I almost hoped that trouble would come looking for me.
With nowhere else to go, I found myself standing in front of the building Joe Connolly had used to meet with his mistress. I stared up at the fourth story window, thinking of the emptiness in the man’s eyes when he died. I’d always known that Azriel was dangerous. Deadly. God help any fool who dared to cross him. He’d called Joe’s girlfriend a liability. And though I hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, I’d realized since our meeting with Lorik that I was a liability, as well. I didn’t want to be his weakness, the one thing an enemy could use as leverage. I may have been immortal, but neither Azriel nor I were completely safe from harm.
The sound of a scuffle floated to my ears on the morning breeze, and I turned my attention to the source. I narrowed my eyes, concentrated my preternatural senses and zeroed in on the ruckus that came not from around the block, but further away––closer to the waterfront.
It wouldn’t be long before the sun crested the eastern horizon. The gray hour was upon me, and I used the last minutes of darkness to speed through the city streets past Pike Place Market into the warehouse district. I knew the area all too well. I’d learned some very valuable lessons on this pier fifteen years ago: that I was stronger than I could have ever imagined, and that mercy was a weakness I couldn’t afford.
A woman’s enraged shriek brought me out of my reverie, and I followed the sound from Belltown all the way to Colman Dock. Four men, dressed in ragged sweaters and caps pulled low over their heads, struggled with a slight but furious girl who kicked and scratched at them as they tried to shove her into the baggage room.
Something inside me snapped. It had been almost two decades since I’d been a victim in any form, but I knew the fear this woman felt. I entered the fray, even though mere minutes would see me trapped in my corporeal form. I was substantially stronger than a human man. I could have broken one’s neck, long ago. I didn’t need any other proof than that memory to solidify the belief that I could—and would—end a life before the sun rose if need be.
“Ah! God damn it, she bit me!” One of the men shouted, and a loud crack resounded in the vast covered dock as he rounded on the girl and slapped her.
A snarl tore from my throat as I grabbed the bastard by the shoulder and threw him a good ten feet away. Wood splintered as he crashed into a crate, and his grunt of pain gave me a perverse sense of satisfaction. I kicked at attacker number two, glad I’d worn the pants Azriel bought me tonight. The range of motion was wonderful. I would be hard pressed to go out in a dress ever again. I’d managed to stop two out of the four men, and rather than continue on my violent rampage, I centered my attention on the girl who slapped and kicked and tried her hardest to escape the iron grip of the men who still had a hold of her.
I wrenched her free with no effort whatsoever and sent her stumbling toward the dock exit. “Run!” I shouted. “Get out of here!”
She didn’t need to be told twice. As quick as a rabbit she scuttled out of sight, her shoes echoing into silence as she fled. I didn’t have time to congratulate myself on a job well done, however, because I’d failed to consider my next move, once I’d managed to rescue the girl. My strength was indeed impressive, but I hadn’t managed to incapacitate any of the men. And now that I’d stripped them of their fun, they focused their combined energy on a new target.
I cursed my foolishness that I hadn’t paid better attention to my surroundings. They came at me from all sides, two in front and two behind. The two men behind me were angrier, considering I’d roughed them up a bit. I reached for the shadows, desperate to join their company. A ray of early morning sunlight filtered in through the roof and my heart stuttered in my chest. Too late. Something swooshed behind me and I spun. The heavy length of chain rushed at my face so fast I didn’t have time to react. It smashed against my head, and a bright white light of pain exploded in my skull moments before darkness swallowed me whole.
* * *
“Do what you want. I’m not taking a woman while she’s knocked out. Where’s the fun in that?” a muffled voice poked through the dark haze of my brain, pulling me from a state of nothingness.
“The way she tossed you around, Pete, it might be best to take her that way. Wonder why she’s dressed like a man,” another voice said.
“Who cares why? All that matters is what’s underneath her clothes.”
“She could be someone important,” a third voice entered the conversation. “Might be a bad idea to mess with her if we can make a buck off of her.”
“Ransom?” the first voice, Pete, asked.
Silence fell and I assumed the men were all contemplating the situation. It appeared that perhaps money meant more to them than the possibility of rape. Good for me, I supposed. Though at present, my situation could be considered anything but good. I couldn’t discern my surroundings, though I knew they’d moved me from Colman Dock. And though I couldn’t see the sky, the fact that I was confined to corporeality was proof enough that I hadn’t been unconscious for long.
My captors weren’t taking any chances with me. Heavy chain had been wound around my body several times, anchoring me to a post as big around as a large tree. My confidence that I could easily escape faltered. Though certain I could break even a thick rope, I didn’t think I could break through this much chain. I smelled the briny tang of the inlet and heard the gentle lap of water somewhere below me . . . no longer at Colman Dock, but we had to be close to the waterfront still.
Azriel had to be awake by now. I tried to push my worry to the back of my mind. Would he think I’d left him? God, I had to get back to him. I couldn’t let him think that he meant so little to me that I would simply sneak away while he slept.
“She’s not worth anything to us unless we figure out who she is.” The men began their plotting again, as they talked about me as if I were nothing but a fine piece of merchandise.
I refused to sit and wait to hear my fate decided by these imbeciles. They’d been out looking for sport, and when I’d ruined their good time, I became the consolation prize. I’d played the victim once, and it was not a role I planned to reprise. “I’m no one you want to tangle with. That’s all you need to know about who I am.”
All four of them turned to gawk. It’s not like they’d gagged me, so I wasn’t quite sure why they looked so shocked to hear me speak. “Guess we shouldn’t be surprised to see you up and talkin’.” I recognized the voice as belonging to Pete, the one who actually had a problem with raping an unconscious woman. If I had to guess, I’d say he was the “honorable” one in the group. “The way Sam here smacked you with that chain . . . you should be bruised to hell. Or worse. But there’s not a scratch on your pretty face. Why’s that?”
Well, well. Pete had the honor and the brains. Azriel had told me once that it was important that we keep to ourselves. Most humans didn’t pay enough attention to recognize that part of us that was other. But, every once in a while, a person took the time to really look. It was just my luck that Pete happened to be astute. “Maybe Sam overestimates his strength?” I suggested in an innocent tone.
One of the men stepped forward. He scrubbed a dirty hand over the stubble growing on his face and smiled. His gray-blue eyes narrowed as he looked me over from head to toe. “I’ve got strength enough,” he said and then grabbed at his groin through his pants. “Right here. How ’bout I show you?”
“How about you go to hell?”
That earned a few snickers from my captors
. I suppose that I didn’t sound very tough, or threatening. I made a mental note to improve on that. But tough-sounding or not, bound or free, I had to believe that I still had the upper hand on these men. They couldn’t kill me, not without a magic blade, and I doubted any of them had such a thing. And though I was wrapped in chains and bound to my corporeal form, I was still stronger. If they planned to rape me, they’d have to take the chains off. When that happened, I’d kill every last one of them with my bare hands if I had to.
“Look,” Pete said as he held his hands out as if to calm me down. I’d thrown him a good ten feet before his friend had knocked me out, and I sensed that he wasn’t going to take my soft, feminine appearance for granted. “Nobody’s going to hurt you if you don’t give us a reason to. We just want to know who you are, is all.”
I raised my chin up toward the ceiling, hoping I looked defiant. “I don’t see how my identity is any of your business.”
“That’s rich,” Sam scoffed. “What you done was none of your business, but you didn’t seem to have a problem stickin’ your nose where it didn’t belong.”
“You attacked that poor woman,” I said, low.
“Maybe we oughta give you what we were gonna give to her?”
My stomach tightened and my heart threatened to start up its frantic racing once again. That’s what they wanted, though. Wasn’t it? Men like these fed off their victim’s fear. The power they exercised over the helpless was better than any petty sexual thrill. Predators in the truest sense, they hunted their prey with precision, looking out for only the freshest kill.
Well, they weren’t going to get what they wanted from me.
“Try it!” I snapped. “In fact, I dare you.”
When Shadows Call Page 8
