Chasing Midnight (Dark of Night Book 2)

by Ranae Glass

  Heather raised her hand. “Um, I was ogling.”

  We erupted in a fit of laughter. Phoebe lowered her gaze and undid the top button of her petal pink peasant top. Wagging her eyebrows suggestively, she bounded off to help Duke.

  Heather grabbed my arm with two hands and pushed me to the back. “I want to show you this.”

  She forced me into a smaller room in the back. It was separated from the rest of the shop by a thick, wood-bead curtain that sounded like a waterfall when I ran my hand across it. Once I pushed my way through, I saw that the walls in here were red—dark, rich velvety red—and were covered with mirrors of all shapes and sizes. In the center of the room was a round table that had been draped with layers of bright fabrics, the top one being creamy gold satin. There was no crystal ball, but otherwise, it looked just like something I’d seen in a traveling circus once. There were small, wooden chairs all around the table, seven in total, all painted the same red as the walls, which made them sort of blend in to the background.

  “What is this room for? The ritual sacrifices?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light and joking.

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. This is for palm readings. Listen, I had to talk to you. I was doing a reading for you today—”

  I stopped her there. “Areading?”

  “Yes. A Tarot reading. Anyway, I saw something strange.”

  I pulled out a chair and flopped down. Had I really raced across town for more of her cryptic psychic crap? “Let me guess—you saw death all around me,” I said, pursing my lips, squinting one eye, and wiggling my fingers.

  She slapped me in the arm. “No. Though, you know, I do see that quite a lot.”

  “Duh, Heather. I live with a dead guy.”

  “Oh, Shane isn’t dead. Can’t you tell the difference?” she asked as if I were being silly.

  My left eye started to ache. “Right, whatever you say.”

  “So I was doing your reading, and everything went fuzzy. I had this vision. I saw you, in a cemetery, doing a séance.”

  Okay, that shut me up. She must have read the surprise in my face.

  “You aren’t going to do anything stupid like that, are you?” She took a seat across from me, scowling.

  “Um, yes. Maybe sort of?” I proceeded to spill the beans about Patrick, Nana Elsie, and what she claimed she saw.

  “And you believe her?” Heather asked when I was done.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. But I feel like I owe it to her to at least go.”

  “Wait here.” Heather motioned for me to wait before disappearing through the curtain, returning a few minutes later with a pamphlet. It was from the Haunted Tours office next door.

  I held it up. “What’s this?”

  She snatched it from me, and read it aloud. “Saint Philip’s churchyard is one of the most haunted locations in Charleston. Many claim the ghost of Sue Howard Hardy roams the cemetery. She died six days after she gave birth to a stillborn baby. People often see her spirit walking through the cemetery, crying at her child’s grave. Her history is violent and sad. Terrible things are said to have befallen any who have witnessed her spirit roaming the grounds.”

  I snatched it back from her. There was a photo of the cemetery on the cover. “So, Heather. What do you think? Are ghosts real?” I asked, stuffing the flyer into my purse.

  She made a sound that was suspiciously close to a snort. “Of course they are. What do you think Shane is?”

  Was that a trick question? “Um, a vampire.”

  She rolled her eyes again.

  “What?” I demanded.

  She leaned forward. “What is the difference between a zombie and a vampire?”

  Okay, it was for sure a trick question. “Um, vampires are real?”

  She shook her head. “Think about it like this. People are made of two pieces. Their flesh selves and their spirit selves. Some people possess the power to reanimate the dead. They are called necromancers. They can animate dead bodies. But they only control the empty flesh. The spirit is something completely different. Vampires are spirits who were able to reconnect the two parts of themselves. Their bodies aren’t really dead, which is why they don’t rot. So the spirit slips back inside, none the wiser. Spirits can’t live inside of dead bodies, only in living ones. I actually think that’s kind of what a vampire does when it changes someone. Something, whether it is magic or science, changes their body, effectively making it hardier, so the spirit can stay in it indefinitely. It’s why they seem immortal.”

  I stared at her, blinking and staring into space, deep in thought as I tried to take it all in. “So what you are saying is that a body can be reanimated without a spirit in it, and if a body can exist without a spirit, then a spirit can exist without a body?”

  Now I was just confused.

  “Kind of. The spirit is different. It is transient, sort of made to move on. It’s the truly immortal piece of us. When our bodies die, the spirit moves on to whatever comes next. But sometimes, they don’t. Sometimes, spirits have such a powerful connection to a place or an object that they choose to linger. It is, despite what people might think, very rare.”

  “Have you ever seen a ghost?” I asked, only half joking.

  She licked her lips. “Once. I was in India, and there was a young boy who was being possessed by a spirit.”

  “They can do that?”

  “A spirit can inhabit any living body, but true possession is extremely rare. For two spirits to share the same body is very… uncomfortable for both of them. Sort of like being locked in a small closet. It’s also very exhausting because the two spirits are always fighting for control.”

  “What happened to him, the boy?”

  “He was fine. But it was one of the most frightening, intense things I’ve ever seen.”

  I sat back, letting all the information soak in.

  “Are you still going to go?”

  I nodded. “I gave her my word.”

  “You know Isabel, I remember Nana Elsie. I haven’t seen her in years, but I think she might be an actual necromancer.”

  I frowned. “Why would you say that?”

  “When we were little, she used to always talk to that man on her porch. The one with the old-fashioned top hat.”

  My eyebrows squished together as I strained to remember any such man. “I don’t think I ever saw him.”

  “Exactly. I don’t think he was there. Or, I mean, I think he might not have been alive. If she were a necromancer, spirits would be drawn to her. It would explain why Sue was able to communicate with her.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that.

  Heather smoothed her hands down her paint-speckled jeans. “Better not tell your boyfriend.”

  Great. And we were back to the cryptic weirdness. “What?” I asked, the throbbing in my eye returning.

  “About Nana Elsie being a necromancer. Vampires like to eat them.”

  Not knowing what to say to that either, I mumbled a quick goodbye and walked out. Only once I was in the car did I wonder if she was talking about Shane or Xavier.

  i

  When I got back to the office, Shane still wasn’t back, not that I expected him. It was only a little after five, and my stomach was already growling. I tossed my purse on my desk, hit the blinking light on the answering machine, and headed for the kitchen.

  Beep.

  Click.

  Hang up. Great.

  Beep.

  Isabel, this is your mother. I forgot to talk to you at lunch, but there is a big event next weekend and I’ve been hired to cater. I need all you girls to help me out by carrying trays. Call me when you get a second.

  Pause.

  I mean it, Isabel. Call me.

  I slammed the cabinet door and pulled open the fridge, searching for a soda.

  Beep.

  This time, it was Heather.

  By the time you get this, we will have already talked. Think about what I’m going to tell you. I’
m sure it’s going to be wonderful advice. Oh, and I think you are out of soda.

  Beep.

  Could my life get any stranger?

  Realizing we had no food in the house, I made my bi-weekly call in for Chinese, grabbed a half-eaten pint of Phish Food ice cream, and settled down at my desk. I made myself a note to call Mom the next day and stuck it to the edge of my monitor before flipping the button that brought it humming to life.

  I quickly set up a search engine to look into the Marie San Lucas Memorial Scholarship and then, while that was running, I set up another to run the name Sue Howard Hardy.

  A knock on my front door surprised me for the second time that day.

  When I opened the door, it had just started to get dark outside and for just a minute, in the dim light and with my eyes not quite adjusted yet, I thought Xavier was standing on my porch holding a bouquet of daisies.

  But it wasn’t. It was Devon.

  “Devon, what are you doing here?” I asked as soon as my brain caught up with the rest of me.

  “Here, I wanted to bring you these. Sort of a thank you and an apology all in one little vase.” He smiled, holding them out to me.

  “Oh, um thanks. Come in.”

  He hung his light jacket on the rack by the door and looked around. “Nice place you have here.”

  I set the flowers in the center of my kitchen table. Xavier liked to send me roses, which was a nice thought, but daisies were actually my favorite flower, and these were lovely. As I gently arranged them, the overly suspicious side of my brain wondered how he knew they were my favorite, but it was quickly squelched by the more reasonable side, which kicked it hard in the shin and told it to shut up.

  Hey, I said it was more reasonable, not more mature.

  “Yeah, well you know. It’s home.”

  “Xavier said your friend Shane lives here too?”

  I nodded. “Yep. He’s the dude in the attic. Most of the time. I feel bad for him actually. He kinda got booted from the mansion because of me.”

  “Nah, this is nice. Better. It’s like, you can breathe here,” he said, taking a deep breath before wincing in pain.

  I slid a kitchen chair out for him. “Should you be out of the hospital yet?”

  He sat gingerly. “Probably not, but I was going nuts in there. I don’t guess you know this about me, but I’m a terrible patient.”

  I couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Yeah, I can see that. You want something? Coffee? Water?”

  He held up a hand. “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

  I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down across from him, folding one leg under me. “So you wanna tell me why you’re really here?” I asked over the rim of my mug.

  He sat back, his hands in his lap. “Am I that obvious?”

  I shrugged.

  “Okay. The truth is, I feel really bad about the other night. If my mother were still alive, she would have killed me for speaking to a lady like that. My only defense is that I’ve been kind of on edge lately.”

  “Anything to do with the guys you let beat the shit out of you in that alley?” I asked sharply.

  He opened his mouth, and then snapped it closed. “Well, I… I mean… wait. What do you meanlet?”

  “I mean that at any point you could have called for help and a bunch of very scary vampire bouncers would have come running. But you didn’t. For whatever reason, you took the beating very quietly. Hence,let.” I clicked my tongue on the last letter.

  “Wow. You don’t miss a trick, do you?”

  I shrugged again and shot him a cool look. It was the same look my mother used to give me when I was in high school. It was a smug expression that led you to believe that despite the odds, they just might know everything, so your best shot at escaping alive was fessing up quickly. I’d been practicing it in the mirror for years.

  “Let’s just say that not a lot gets past me, skip the pretense, and drop the other shoe for me, m’kay?”

  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “It’s nothing really. Nothing I want to involve my uncle in, at least.”

  “Not judging. But most people don’t get beaten to an inch of their lives overnothing really. And just so you know, if you need help, I’m sure Xavier would give it.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, but unfortunately, nothing my uncle does is without a price. I’m sure a sharp woman like you has already picked up on that.”

  I blew across the top of my coffee, looking at him through bored eyes, waiting.

  He sat back again. “The truth is, I was hoping to get your help. I want to be considered for admission to the Conclave.”

  He must have noticed my lack of surprise because he smirked and folded his hands. “I guess Xavier mentioned it.”

  “He did. The truth is, I don’t understand the desire.”

  “For immortality?” He looked at me, tilting his head. “I mean, what’s not to want? Money, status, oh, and never having to die. It’s pretty much the ultimate package.”

  I sat my mug on the table, my mind briefly spinning back to Shane. “I suppose, if you don’t mind leaving everyone and everything you loved, your entire human life, by the wayside.”

  “I don’t have much in the way of those.”

  “You might think that now, but once you make that choice, there’s no going back. I mean, you’d basically be selling your humanity. I don’t know if that’s a decision you want to make at your age. Hell, at any age. I know that it’s not what your uncle wants for you.”

  “Ah, and you have hit the crux of my problem. Why should I live for what my uncle wants for me? I’m a grown man. The white picket fence he’s picked out for me feels like prison bars. At the end of the day, it is my choice.”

  I sighed and got up from the table, circling around to the sink. “You’re right. It’s not up to Xavier or anyone else how you live your life—or death, as it were.”

  “So you’ll talk to him for me?”

  I jerked back. “Oh, hell no. This falls clearly under the heading ofnone of my business. Besides, I doubt he’d take any advice from me.”

  Standing, he grabbed my cup and took it to the sink. He looked down at me with warm, human eyes. “My uncle thinks more of you that you realize. I’m beginning to see why.”

  I looked at him, feeling like I should deny it or at least apologize for it. I shook my head. “Sorry, you are on your own here. Xavier and I have a professional relationship, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  He snorted. “It didn’t look very professional to me.”

  And he was back to calling me a whore. Or at least, assuming he understood my motives. Either way, it made me want to throw my coffee on him. “If that’s all you needed?” I moved toward the door, handing him his jacket.

  “I just meant that… well, are you seeing my uncle?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but no.”

  He held up his hands. “I only ask because I’d like to take you out for coffee sometime.”

  “Oh.”

  It was the second time that day that he’d caught me off guard. I blinked and forced myself to look at him, not just as Xavier’s nephew, but also as a potential date. I shook my head. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think so.”

  “If you change your mind, you can reach me here,” he said, handing me his card.

  He was out of the door before I glanced at the tiny slip of paper in my hand.

  “Who was that?” Shane asked as he lumbered down the stairs, still wearing his plaid pajama pants and no shirt.

  “What, your vampire hearing on the fritz?”

  “I wear these noise-canceling headphones Richard gave me. They block out the noise so I can rest.”

  Huh. I learned something new every day. “It was Xavier’s nephew Devon.”

  He followed me into the kitchen. “What did he want?”

  I paused, rinsing out the coffee mugs. “Oh, you know. He brought me flowers to thank me for saving his life. Oh,
and he wants me to talk Xavier into turning him.”

  Shane’s head popped up from behind the fridge door. “What?”

  I shrugged and went back to washing. Behind me, I could hear the fridge clank shut. “And he asked me out.”

  Shane reached over me and grabbed a paper cup from the cabinet. “I hope you had the good sense to say no.”

  I turned, shooting him a dirty look. “Do I look stupid? Besides, that guy is trouble with a capital T. I can smell it on him like cheap cologne.”

  “Yet Xavier is a fluffy bunny,” Shane muttered as he nuked the cup of blood.

  “A—bunnies are terrifying. B—that’s my saying and you are not allowed to steal it. Besides,” I said and tossed the dishrag in the sink, “at least with Xavier, I know what drives him. But Devon, he’s hiding something, something that’s driving his desire to be changed. Something big. And until I’m one hundred percent sure it’s not something that’s going to come bite me in the ass, I’m out.”

  “Practical,” Shane said before taking a long gulp of his beverage. I suppressed a shiver.

  Yep. That was me. Practical.

  SHANE

  Shane was right on time for his meeting with Xavier. It was the first time he’d been summoned by the Chancellor since he was told he was being forced from the large plantation mansion that housed most of the Conclave. It was his punishment for attacking a ranking member of Xavier’s council. It was a hard lesson, but a soft punishment, as punishments went. The problem was that Isabel had proven herself smart, capable, and dangerous. Part of his being sent back to her was that he was supposed to keep an eye on her. Which basically meant make sure she was staying out of Conclave business and keeping her mouth shut about the things she’d witnessed there.

  He strode up to Xavier’s office door, which was closed, and knocked twice. Ahnarra, Xavier’s second in command, answered. She wore a perfectly fitted grey business suit that clung to her, making her look less masculine and more like day-trader Jessica Rabbit. The effect was completed by her long, red hair and vibrant green eyes. She motioned for him to enter.

  Walking past her into the room, he saw Xavier standing behind his tall desk chair, hunched over it as he gripped the back. Other than the three of them, the room was empty. Shane gave Xavier a bow, their formal acknowledgement, and took a seat. Ahnarra slipped out.