Night Hawk Trilogy (Night Hawk Series)

by J. E. Taylor

  “There are towels and a bathrobe in the linen closet on the other side of the shower that you can use,” he said.

  I stepped inside and gave him a faint smile before closing the door on his questioning stare. The bank of light switches intrigued me and I played with the dimmers until I had the lighting just the way I liked it, soft shades and with the flames in the fireplace, it would have been the ultimate romantic setting.

  Instead of dwelling on the idea of romance, I stripped the bloody shirt from my back and the rest of the clothing peeled off just as easily. The shower called my attention and I turned on all the jets as hot as the setting would allow. Steam rose and I stepped inside, relishing the heat on my cold skin. Pulsing water massaged my muscles, loosening the knots and ridding my skin of any remnants of blood.

  I don’t know how long I stood soaking in the water, but when I finally opened my eyes, I glanced at the neat little alcove in the shower wall that housed bath wash and shampoo. Curious, I opened the wash and took a sniff. It reminded me of a bamboo forest and I lathered my body with the luxurious soap.

  The shampoo reminded me of cocoa butter and beach lotions. A scent I adored and the reality that I’d never see the sun again hit like the force of a truck. Pain centered in my chest, dropping me to my knees and I buried my face in my hands as the last of my human tears mingled with the hot water.

  When the sobs ran dry, I climbed to my feet and turned the water off. A stack of plush towels sat on a small pedestal and I wrapped my drenched hair in one, drying off my body with the other.

  A hunger pang hit, almost knocking me to the ground, and I gripped the edge of the sink, clamping my eyes shut and willing the hunger away. I forced myself to breathe in and out until I had some semblance of control, and then I stared at the steam-streaked mirror. Unwrapping the towel from my body, I used it to clear the glass.

  My reflection hadn’t changed much. I still had curves in the right places and my stomach was as flat as a washboard. I glanced at my new Brazilian wax wondering if I’d ever have to endure that torture again. If not, that was definitely something positive about being a vampire.

  I opened my mouth to inspect my teeth and a crease appeared between my eyes. They were normal. No sharp canines existed.

  “They only go razor at night.”

  I jumped at his voice and covered my body with the towel, glaring in his direction.

  “Get out!”

  He grinned and picked up my clothes, leaving without another word.

  I hadn’t heard him come into the room and irritation snaked over my skin. How long had he been there?

  I rummaged through the linen closet, finding a plush bathrobe just like he said and wrapped the cloud-soft fabric around me. I tossed the towels over the side of the tub and hand combed my hair before charging into the living room.

  I found him leaning against the bar with his shirt hanging open. The rippled muscles of his stomach glistened in the soft light and I had to tear my eyes away from his god-like form.

  “Sorry about that,” he said and nodded toward the direction of the bathroom but neither his tone nor his gaze held any regret. He even had the audacity to grin.

  “You have no right to spy on me like that,” I said and the words came out in a feral growl.

  “I figured you might like clean clothing at some point today.”

  “But you just walked in without knocking.”

  He glanced at the floor and nodded. “I guess I’m not used to having house guests.” A bright red hue colored his cheeks and my eyebrow rose.

  “You’re blushing. I didn’t think that was possible.”

  Damian raised his gaze, meeting mine and he stood up, crossing to the couch. “I gather you don’t know very much about vampires,” he said and took a seat.

  “I know you like to play with your food,” I said with as much snark as possible.

  His laugh struck a chord, I crossed my arms and refrained from tapping my foot with impatience at his adolescent behavior.

  “How old are you, anyway?” I asked, sending the most derogatory glare I could drum up.

  His laughter wound down but the smile remained.

  “Which age? The one I was when I was turned or how many years have I been walking the earth?”

  I blinked at his question, debating on which one to ask.

  “I was turned when I was twenty-five.”

  Just a few years older than I am which explains some of the adolescent behavior, but the wisdom in his eyes told me that his twenty-five was a very long time ago. “How long have you been like this?”

  “Longer than you can conceive,” he whispered and any hint of a smile vanished. He turned his head toward the brightly decorated walls. “I’ve seen the world evolve.” When he brought his gaze back to mine, I shivered. In a blink, the shadow hiding his eyes disappeared and the vibrant blue returned.

  His evasive answer irritated me and I tried another tactic. “Where were you born?”

  “Greece.”

  That explained the thick dark hair that I wanted to run my fingers through and even the hint of Mediterranean in his complexion, but I still didn’t get a sense of how long he had been like this. I got the impression he didn’t really want to discuss the passage of time and I let it go for now.

  Something shifted on the floor above us and my attention snapped to the ceiling, or more specifically to the heartbeat. I could smell it and the hunger pang hit again.

  I didn’t realize I had moved until I found myself face down on the stairs with Damian pinning me to the risers.

  “No,” his whisper hissed in my ear. “They are off limits.”

  They? I’m surprised his voice cut through the rush of blood I heard pounding in the veins of the humans above. I wanted to drink every drop, to satiate this sudden craving and I clawed at the stairs, trying to break his grip, my focus on the metal door keeping my meal at bay.

  He jammed his wrist in my mouth and at first, I pushed it away, but when he pressed it to my lips a second time, the dull pulse caught my attention. His whisper was lost in the rushing need that gripped my form and I sank my teeth through his flesh, closing my eyes and reveling in the taste of the black blood.

  His wince cut through the haze and with my teeth still embedded in his wrist, I turned, meeting his frantic gaze. My eyes locked with his and the razor incisors in my mouth retracted but I kept my grip, drinking with greedy slurps.

  With each drop came an image and I saw the world as it was when he was human.

  I saw him vibrant and alive and I saw the reasons for the vengeance in his blood.

  My betrayal paled in comparison to his loss.

  He watched his lover, Athena, torn to pieces at the hands of a demon, all because she refused to disclose where she hid her daughter.

  Damian knew where Zoe hid, but kept silent. He had sworn allegiance to the girl, taking the place of her dead father and loving her like she was his own child. Nothing the demons did would loosen his tongue.

  The little girl was an innocent, a child of light descendant and the demon wanted to feast on her life force even more than he wanted Athena’s. It was a coveted delicacy and Damian stood in the demon’s path.

  When his lover lay in pieces at his feet, her blood smeared across the demon’s lips and her heart an empty husk on the ground, Damian swore he would dedicate his life to destroying the demon.

  That’s when Lucifer threw him into the pit with a hoard of hungry vampires.

  He yanked his wrist from me and covered it with his hand, standing and taking an unsteady step backwards. Damian’s jumbled thoughts flowed over me like a blanket, suffocating me and I gasped, my hunger forgotten.

  He had walked the earth for over two thousand years protecting Zoe’s bloodline.

  Until his fangs sank into my neck.

  Chapter Four - Damian

  This is what happens when a light child becomes a shadow.

  Her strength outmatched mine and I had no idea how I s
ubdued her. The moment she sensed human life above, her teeth had flared to sharp weapons of destruction and she had moved like lightning, finding the hidden entrance to the stairwell with ease.

  I stared at her, holding my aching wrist and reeling from the mind-union we held as she feasted on my blood. That was an entirely new and unwelcomed experience.

  “I, uh, I can’t let you go up there,” I said, unsure of whether my blood had tempered her thirst. If not, she was screwed. The minute she stepped from our daytime sanctuary, the sunshine would torch her delicate skin, leaving her nothing but a pile of ash.

  Naomi wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her gaze landed on my wrist and then traveled back to my face. Her eyes carried confusion and she stepped toward me, pulling my injured wrist toward her.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her trembling fingers traced the wounds and she closed her eyes, inhaling and bringing my wrist to her lips.

  Instead of latching on again, as I expected, she pressed her lips to my skin. A warm sensation flooded through me and her eyes opened, her gaze shooting right to my heart. Naomi melted the frost that had built over millenniums and I stifled the urge to take her to my bedroom and do things I hadn’t done since the days I spent with Athena.

  The light burned in her eyes, too, and she stepped close, crowding me.

  “You don’t kill humans, do you?” she asked, the lilt in her voice made the phrase more of a statement than a question.

  “No. Not usually.” I led her out of the stairwell, closing the door and getting my bearings. “I’ve made exceptions over the years and death is usually warranted, but lately, I’ve let my hatred get the best of me.” I turned back to her. “If I had taken the time to really see you instead of just stalking you for revenge, I would have known why Lucifer wanted you. I would have known you were off limits.”

  “Off limits?”

  “A child of light is off limits,” I said and a crinkle of confusion appeared on her forehead. “A child of light is a descendant of the Archangel Michael,” I explained. “You’re in one of the lines I lost track of.” I dropped my gaze to the floor and the heat of my failure filled my cheeks.

  “Is that why you looked so scared on the rooftop?”

  My gaze snapped to hers and I shrugged.

  It was bad enough having Lucifer as an enemy, but pissing off Michael, that was an automatic death sentence. The righteous were infinitely more brutal than the demons when crossed.

  “I’m still here, but that could change at any moment.”

  Chapter Five - Naomi

  My legs wobbled and he stepped forward, putting his uninjured arm around my waist and led me back to the couch. His touch was gentle and I found myself wondering just what he would be like in bed.

  A different type of hunger accosted me and I pounced, pushing him down on the cushions and his eyes widened, following the line of my neck to the open V of my bathrobe. He blinked and then snapped his gaze from my exposed breasts back to my face, all hesitation in his expression morphed to a desire deeper than mine.

  He pulled me to his lips, the first kiss soft; as if he was afraid I would run. When his hands threaded into my hair, the kiss became more insistent, his tongue explored my mouth and a low groan escaped him like I was the most precious thing he had ever encountered.

  His body responded and I yanked away at both the jolt of his erection and the shock skittering over my flesh. I blinked down at him and his slow easy smile made me forget what he was. Nimble fingers unthreaded the tie holding the rest of the bathrobe closed and the coolness of the air slapped me back into control.

  Before his shaking hands touched my skin, I hopped off him and pulled the soft material back in place.

  “I’m sorry,” I said and took a few paces in the opposite direction.

  Damian stared at the ceiling with his fists clenched. The muscles in his jaw twitched and I could tell he was grinding his teeth together, fighting for control. When his gaze moved from the ceiling to me, I knew he lost the battle but I didn’t react fast enough.

  Within a blink, he had me against the wall. His iron grip held my wrists against the cool fabric covering the concrete beneath. He stared at me, his chest rising and falling with the lust sparkling in his eyes.

  “You shouldn’t tease me like that.”

  His voice fanned over me like a delicate shower and instead of struggling I kept his gaze biting my lip to keep my voice in check. Awareness of how close he was made my heart bang in my chest and the knowledge that it still pumped blood through my body took my attention away from his intense eyes.

  “My heart…” I whispered.

  His grip loosened but he didn’t let go. “It still beats. So does mine,” he said, answering my unasked question.

  “I thought…”

  He laughed and dropped my hands, taking a step back. “You thought vampires were dead and cold and soulless.”

  I raised a shoulder in response.

  “We’re ageless whether we feed on humans or not and we are alive. I’ll admit the degree of alive varies, but we are alive and not the walking dead you’re imagining.”

  “Un-dead,” I said.

  He smiled and shrugged. “Until your luck runs out, then you’re just as dead as the next cadaver.”

  “Why?”

  “The virus crystallizes our cells, freezing them in time, but they still require oxygen, so we breathe. Blood moves the oxygen through the body, so our hearts continue to beat. There hasn’t been an ounce of decomposition in my system since I turned. The ability to heal is accelerated as well and I haven’t quite figured out why.”

  His explanation intrigued me. “If that’s the case, why can’t vampires go out in the sun?”

  “The crystallization reacts badly with ultraviolet rays,” he said, understating the dangers.

  I skirted around him and wandered through the room, digesting his words and examining my surroundings. The tapestries hanging over the concrete provided a lively and warm feel to the space and I reached out, running my fingers over the silky vibrant fabric. His gaze followed me, heating a spot on my back and I flexed my shoulders, trying to dislodge the burn.

  “I’ve never known vampires to shape shift,” I finally said, stopping in front of a mural of a castle with a pair of hawks flying overhead.

  His huff took my attention away from the wall and I turned, meeting his gaze.

  “What, exactly, do you know about vampires?”

  “You have super human speed and strength, you heal like that,” I snapped my fingers. “And you survive by drinking blood. The perfect monster.” Sarcasm wrapped its hands around each of my words and he rolled his eyes.

  He crossed his arms and waited for me to continue.

  “I used to think a silver blade to the heart would kill them.”

  His smile surfaced. “Silver will leave a nasty welt, but it’s not strong enough to pierce through our skin. However, any blade made from a derivative of platinum, especially when thrust through the heart, kills.”

  “Why platinum?”

  “There’s something about the purity of the metal that allows it to pierce our skin, but the blade doesn’t have to be forged from pure platinum, it can be forged of steel and dipped in platinum.”

  “You never answered my question about shape shifting.”

  He sighed and his gaze lifted to the tapestry. “I didn’t think it was a question.”

  “Well, is that normal?”

  He shook his head and his less than cursory glance in my direction made my skin flush.

  “So, what? You’re special?”

  His chuckle caught me off guard and he shrugged. “I never thought of it that way.”

  Chapter Six - Damian

  Cursed is more like it, I thought and met her stare. I could tell she had a boatload of questions pinging around behind those beautiful eyes, but I wasn’t in the mood for speculating about why I could morph into a mammoth predatory bird at will. Whether it was a divine g
ift or a demonic curse, I wasn’t sure, but that unique gift saved my ass a time or two.

  “Well?” Her hands found their way to her waist and her head cocked to the side.

  Her stance allowed the V in the bathrobe to widen, giving me just enough of a glimpse of her breasts to jump-start my overactive libido. I forced my gaze back to her face and shoved my hands into my back pockets. Even though it had been centuries since I had a houseguest, I hadn’t totally lost sight of my manners.

  “I’m sorry, Naomi, but I don’t have an answer for you.”

  Her perfect pout surfaced and I turned, stalking out of the room before I acted on the overwhelming urges wracking my form. Instead, I busied myself with the laundry, pulling the soaking garments from the spiffy new front-loader I had purchased recently, and throwing them into the dryer.

  I’d have to take her shopping tonight because there was no way I would be able to resist another day of her lounging in that bathrobe.

  I turned away from the machine and stopped. Naomi stood in the doorway, her hands gripping the frame, all her earlier curiosity gone. Her face transformed into a mask of lust-filled hunger.

  “I should get you something to drink,” I whispered, reacting to her close proximity and the knowledge that she could drain me dry if she wanted to.

  She didn’t budge and I stepped back in the small space, my back finding another concrete wall.

  “I’m hungry,” she said in a feral growl that revealed her sharp fangs. Her hands dropped to her sides and she stepped into the room, blocking my exit.

  Memory of how sweet her blood had been bubbled my own thirst to the surface and I licked my lips, my gaze falling to the slow pulse visible in her neck. God, I wanted to drink from her again, but I knew how wrong it would be.

  “Naomi,” I started, keeping my voice low and reasonable. “You don’t want to do what you’re thinking.”

  Her laugh filled the small space and she lunged, pinning me to the wall. I tilted my chin to my chest so she didn’t have a clear bite and stared at her.