by Dannika Dark
He kicked off his shoes and a white toe poked out from his black sock. “Never underestimate anyone’s abilities. I’ve met a Mage or two in my time who could take down a Vampire with their gifts. Plus, you lot scurry around like cockroaches while we run at a human’s pace. A smart Mage will stay out of reach.”
“Makes sense,” I grumbled, rubbing my eyes. I worked out a kink in my leg and leaned against the opposite wall. “How do you know Justus?”
“We’ve been knowing each other for a long time and stay in touch; you never know when you’ll need help.”
“Moving dead bodies?”
“Pardon?”
“You know—the saying about how friends help you move, but real friends help you move dead bodies.”
“Well,” he said with a rich laugh, “I am the dead body.”
It didn’t seem possible. “Are you really dead?”
He glanced at his shirt again. “Just an inside joke; we’re very much alive. Sunlight won’t kill us, but you know that now. Stakes hurt like a bugger, but they work the same way a stunner does with a Mage. Years ago, they used to stake and bury Vampires as a form of punishment. If not for Gravewalkers, half of them would still be there. Gravewalkers have a knack for finding us,” he said, lifting his hand slightly. “You already know we can pull truth, erase memory, and win any arm-wrestling competition. Ah, blood.”
The mere mention of the word made me nauseous and I looked at the spatters on my shoe.
“A youngling craves blood and their desire is insatiable, but it gets easier as you age. Blood doesn’t sustain us; the power within the blood is what we crave. It’s comparable to a Mage juicing energy from another. I could go the rest of my life without having any.”
“What keeps your bodies going?”
“Rejuvenation, the fountain of youth, magic—same as you. Blood helps us heal faster should we need it, but the real magic is the information that flows in your veins. A knowledge cocktail. I enjoy the taste of food, but like many Vampires, I prefer not to eat. There’s a certain perk to not using the toilet all the time.”
An insistent vibration interrupted us and I crawled to the sink and pulled the phone out of my purse.
Logan: If you don’t answer this message, I’m coming to get you.
“Shit.” I collapsed on my back as my stomach gurgled.
“Trouble with the boyfriend?”
My fingers quickly typed out a reply.
Silver: I’m here.
Logan: Where is here?
Silver: How are you? How’s Finn?
Logan: Don’t change the subject. Where are you?
Silver: I’ll see you soon, I promise.
Logan: I’m coming over.
Silver: You gave me your word. Why don’t you trust me?
Logan: You’re avoiding my calls. Let’s talk.
Silver: It’s almost 11 and I’m tired. I’ll call you tomorrow.
Logan: So you ARE in TX. Who’s with you?
I froze—I’d forgotten we were in another time zone. “Dammit!” I groaned, throwing my hand out and shutting my eyes. The phone skidded out of reach. “What time is our flight?”
“You have three hours. Be sure to gargle.”
When I lifted my head, Christian was sending a text message. “Give me that!”
I sprang to my knees and snatched it away. “What the hell did you say?”
“Only that I had you on your back. I made sure to sign my name.”
“You idiot!”
I punched his shoulder and he smirked. “In-service massage?”
Silver: It’s not what you think, Logan. I’ll call you later. Miss u.
“It’s your funeral. Logan is a Chitah.”
Christian’s eyes widened. “You’re serious? You? And a Chitah?” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Shite, why didn’t you tell me you were dating a fecking lunatic? Those bastards have a thing about hunting you for life. Jaysus wept.”
“Oh, grow a spine.” I angrily shoved the phone in my bag.
Christian pushed himself up and stretched his arms. “I’ll leave you alone to decontaminate. I’ve spent my entire evening in a bathroom—more hours than in my whole human life. If you don’t mind, I’ve seen my fair share of vomit. I’ll be retiring in my quarters with a ‘do not disturb’ sign.”
Before the door opened, he showed me his profile. “How’s that working out for you two in the bedroom?”
Branded by his words, I hurled his shoe at the door. “Nitey nite for you.”
“Have fun electrocuting your boyfriend with your next handjob.” He breezed out of the room like a summer wind. That perturbed me.
I crawled to the opening and leaned out. “Oh, and Christian?”
He paused.
“Touching is overrated. As old as you are and you can’t get more creative than vanilla sex?”
He blinked in surprise as I gently closed the door.
Logan never returned my calls. I wondered if he entered my dreams that night to spy on me. Some Chitahs could dreamwalk with certain people. He had that ability with me, but I made him promise to stay out. No one should be allowed inside your head just because they have the key.
Chapter 11
Adam gripped the bars of his black motorcycle as it edged across the parking lot. It was a no-frills bike—unpolished and classic, like Adam.
It was the first time he’d been out since the bombing. Cheri wanted to meet with friends in a human bar on the seedy side of Cognito. It hadn’t even been a week since he was injured, but he couldn’t say no when he knew how cooped up she was in that house. Adam was especially sensitive to that need because of the fact that Nero had kept her caged for so long.
“Ugh!” Cheri protested, stumbling to her feet once he parked the bike. “I can’t stand that thing! I just don’t understand why it’s so impossible for you to get a regular car.” She clicked her tongue at the run in her pantyhose. Her polished fingernails threaded through her blond hair. “Do I look okay?”
“Like a dream,” he said softly.
She looked more than okay—Cheri was stunning. From the hollow of her cheeks that made her lips look like heaven to kiss to the slope of her hips and the way they swung when she walked in heels. She’d changed since they met, but she was enamored with him from the start and he’d fallen for her harder than he should have.
“I don’t know why you wouldn’t let me wear the helmet,” Cheri huffed.
It might have been different if his wounds were still fresh and raw; a man needed time to adjust to something like that. Novis couldn’t heal him with his light, and the treatments the Relic tried were excruciating. Within days, the reflection staring back at him looked like a man who had been scarred for a lifetime. Breed were worse than humans when it came to how they viewed those with scars and deformities. This was a life-altering setback. Who would want to be treated by a Healer who was scarred? Even something as simple as giving a woman a sexy smile was an act he could no longer do without revolting her. He was damn lucky to have Cheri because most Mage women were very selective about the men they dated.
Being a Healer was the reason he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. That left a bitter taste in his mouth and he cursed his gift.
That didn’t go over well with his Creator. Novis was a man with great expectations for his progeny. He provided Adam with new clothes, access to whatever education and physical training he desired. It was important for Adam to contribute to the race and prove his value.
Adam shut off the engine and Cheri placed her hands on her hips. “We’re just going to have a quick drink and say hello. I’m not really in the mood to stay out all night or anything. Did you decide if you’re coming in?”
Two girls sashayed by and whistled at Adam. They admired the way he looked in his torn jeans on the bike. He got that look a lot.
“Adam.” Cheri snapped her fingers. “I’m going.” She planted a kiss on his shield and left a smudge of lipstick. “I don’t thi
nk you’d like my friends so this works out. Thanks for giving me space and time alone to have fun. Give me an hour and then we’ll go home. Sound okay?”
He nodded.
Cheri sighed and adjusted the delicate gold strap of her purse on her shoulder.
He watched the door for thirty minutes. Because she had no Creator, Adam took it upon himself to keep an eye on her in public. She craved her own space and was slowly becoming her own woman again—a change he loved seeing.
Adam was still a runner and made it his morning routine to stay in shape while taking advice from Novis on how to cultivate his gifts. Adam in turn worked with Cheri and taught her how to protect her light from another Mage. He wasn’t concerned about letting her go into the bar alone because humans were weak and she could take care of herself, but he decided to save her the embarrassment of the stares. He didn’t give a shit what everyone else thought, but if it made her uncomfortable, then that’s all that mattered.
Adam stretched out his legs, thinking about that mess with Nero. It never left his thoughts because of what they’d discovered when they saved Finn during the raid. The chain locked around the Shifter’s neck was made of a metal Adam knew all too well.
Knox broke the chain with some tools he kept in his Jeep. It was confiscated by Justus, but a small piece was left behind on the floor and Adam had played with it during the drive home. Something about the sheen was familiar and when he ran his tongue over the gritty surface, he knew exactly what it was.
In the Special Forces, they’d gone on a number of dangerous assignments. The weapons were standard issue—except for the silver-tipped stakes and darts. Each job they were armed with specific weapons. Knox had a peculiar habit of rolling bullets around in his mouth—something he’d started as a nervous habit. The first time they were issued new bullets, Knox spit it out and said, “Taste this shit!”
The flavor was impossible to describe—sweet, hot, and so tart that it made your tongue curl. Regardless, they did the trick taking down their targets. One shot was all it ever took. It never killed them—no, that came later and they finally let one of the guys on the team have the honors.
He’d had a few drinks with Knox after revealing he was a Mage and the two of them concluded that every assignment targeted Breed. Adam suggested humans manufactured the metal. Someone was probably selling that shit on the black market to fill his pockets.
Fifteen more minutes elapsed; he sensed it without looking at a watch.
“Can I sit on your bike?” a voice like a lush berry asked. He looked at a woman with long legs and a nonexistent red skirt. “I saw your girl take off.” She stepped a little closer. “How about we go for a ride?”
Her finger pinched a crease in his pants and he shifted uncomfortably. She wasn’t his type with the heavy makeup and forward demeanor, not to mention she was a human. Now that Adam was a Mage, he figured it was more practical to stick to your own kind. A heavy cloud of perfume penetrated through his helmet and he wrinkled his nose. He preferred the natural smell of a woman.
She eased in closer with a sultry smile. “Maybe I could just climb on while you let the engine run. Would you like that?”
He’d seen it a million times since he bought that damn bike. Women didn’t need to see your face. Man and machine gave off a sexual vibe.
“Pretty please?”
He looked up and catapulted off the bike. Cheri was making her way out of the bar and she wasn’t alone. Some asshole had a hold of her upper arm. Friend or not, Adam wasn’t about to let anyone handle her like that.
He loosened the strap to his helmet. “Take your hands off her!” he roared.
Adam crossed the parking lot in six seconds and stood beneath a beam of angry light.
“We were just saying goodbye, weren’t we?” Cheri jerked her arm free and scowled.
The man’s stance told him that he wasn’t taking Adam seriously—not until he grabbed the guy’s wrist and twisted it behind his back. Adam shoved him into the brick wall and pinned his other shoulder to keep him still. Didn’t take but a minute to sense that he was also a Mage.
“What are you doing on human turf?” Adam ground through his teeth.
“The fuck are you doing on human turf?” the Mage countered. “Because I’m having a beer.” Long hair sloppily stuck to his sweaty neck. “If you wanted to hold my hand, you should have asked.”
Adam put pressure on the man’s wrist until he growled out in pain and kicked him in the leg. Hard enough that Adam stepped back and lost his grip when the Mage threw his elbow out and knocked Adam’s helmet. “What the fuck is up with that?”
“Leave him alone,” Cheri stamped out harshly. “I mean it.”
“Shut up, bitch. Nobody asked you.”
Perspiration beaded on Adam’s brow and he looked at Cheri. “Do you know him?”
As if it even mattered. Anger was flooding his veins like poison.
The roughneck continued poking Adam’s helmet with his fingers. He was one poke away from being knocked flat on his ass.
“An old friend. Was an old friend,” she said.
“Do you two fuck with that on?” The Mage laughed with a wheeze.
Adam’s neck flew back when he was poked for the last time. In his human life, his friends called him by his last name, Razor. It was more than a name—it was a reputation. Adam could throw a sharp uppercut and no one ever saw it coming.
Knuckles hit bone and the man’s jaw snapped up with a nasty split in the chin as the Mage pivoted to the ground.
A dull roar filled Adam’s head and everything went fuzzy. Adam had a flashback of his sister’s death and dropped to his knees, hammering into the man’s face again and again. There was no reasoning. There was only anger. Rage snarled like a dragon, snapping its ugly teeth. Adam hadn’t felt this way since his sister was murdered—snuffed out by a lowlife juicer.
The true reason he chose to become a Mage was that Silver bore a Creator’s mark that was identical to the man who killed his sister in a dirty alley. Mortality put a cap on things like revenge, but as a Mage, he would have all the time in the world. His perception changed becoming a Healer—giving him a new direction. But maybe revenge was his only true purpose in this life.
His rage intensified into a hurricane, leaving a wake of destruction.
Suddenly, rough hands yanked him up by the armpits and threw him into the dirt. The concrete walkway scraped a hole in the elbow of his shirt. Before he could get up, a second Mage kicked him in the gut with a thick boot.
“Stay where you belong, Learner. I can always smell the green ones.”
Adam swept his leg out and knocked the man onto his back.
A crowd formed and Adam hopped to his feet, gripping his side. They couldn’t flash or use their Mage abilities due to the audience. No one was breaking up the fight or calling the cops—the humans were feeding off the action as they clinked their beer bottles and slurred out profanities.
He staggered back to the asshole who had put his hands on Cheri. This wasn’t about right and wrong or good and evil, this was about unleashing his dragon. It lived in a dark place within him where fury slithered around like a viperous snake—hungry teeth gnashing in the darkness, hoping to pierce another with its bite. He dropped to his knees, pushed the man’s shoulder back, and struck him in the jaw with four solid knuckles.
Adam’s head suddenly flew back when the second Mage came up from behind and pulled off his helmet.
“Fucking hell,” someone mumbled. “Look at his face.”
The shame. Right under that urine-colored spotlight in front of the woman he cherished.
Adam flicked his eyes to the left and saw the girl who’d approached him on the bike cover her plum lips with her hand and turn away. The Mage behind him took one look and shook his head, leaning down to help his friend up.
Adam’s knees cut into the ground and the bone felt the unforgiving press of the earth.
“You’re a disgrace, and if your Creator
had any sense at all, he’d put you out of your misery like a rabid dog,” the Mage muttered out of earshot from the humans.
Embarrassment painted Cheri’s face, and it wasn’t because of his actions. She reached for Adam’s arm, but he shouldered her away and stood on his own. Pain throbbed in his hand like the pulse of vengeance, and a dull ache gnawed in his gut.
Nothing like the ache when he realized how close he was to losing his lifeline—the one person that tethered him to sanity. Cheri acted as if his scars didn’t matter.
They mattered. When they’d made love the night before, it was the first time she wanted the lights turned off. It seemed normal—the way it should be—but that was never Cheri’s style. He didn’t bring it up, but it lingered on his mind like a false note.
Adam lifted the scuffed helmet and wrapped his arm around her small waist, pulling her protectively against him. “Why did we come here?”
They hurried across the parking toward his bike before anyone called the cops.
“You shouldn’t have started anything,” she scolded. “What got into you? He’s the kind of guy who doesn’t walk away from a fight; you were lucky.”
“What did he want from you? These are your friends?”
“He owed me something and… well, let’s just go home.”
Chapter 12
Three days after our return to Cognito, Logan was still ignoring my calls. On the second day, I quit making the effort. Be angry, be hurt, be nonplussed, but give me the chance to explain. Was it the message Christian sent or the fact that I lied to him and went out of town?
“I’ll dish it, Silver. Logan always made me nervous,” Sunny confessed over the phone. “I don’t like men who stare the way he does. It’s deep, like he’s stalking my every move.”
“Logan isn’t a shy man and you know Chitah’s never break eye contact. He would never hurt me.”
