The border was a palpable thing, wild energy snapping in bursts on one side and a steady, uniform pressure on the other. The feel of it sharpened and grew denser when I breached it, as if zeroing in on my alien presence. I tripped and fell to my knees, skinning them on the pavement.
Emil cried out. It was a frantic, desperate sound that almost distracted me from a flare of Malcolm’s pain that nearly bent me in half. He could handle it, he could. I stood and shoved my hair away from my face, then moved sideways until I was in the middle of the road. Clearly visible in the stretched light from the cars.
“Stop,” I yelled. Sophie turned on me, eyes bright but narrow, and for a second I thought I wouldn’t be able to do it. But I steeled my spine and threw all the attitude I could muster into my voice. I backed away, as though aiming for the saving border I’d already crossed. “Stop or I’ll go to Bronson. You think a few hours under his wing will trump the crimes you’ve committed? He’ll—”
“He’ll what?” Abel asked, suddenly so close that his breath was a humid cloud against the back of my neck. I shrank into myself when his arm snaked around my upper chest. Where was Mal? “You use his name like a threat, but he has accepted me. You are only human. You don’t matter.”
He pulled my hand up, turning my arm so that the underside gleamed pale in the light of his eyes. My heart pounded, fast and hard, and I gritted my teeth to stop myself from begging him to let me go. He wouldn’t kill me. He liked hurting me. And Chev’s rules were explicit.
“I prefer you afraid,” he whispered before he jerked my arm back and bit into the heel of my palm. Knowing what was coming and accepting it were two different things.
I screamed and shoved at him, clawed at the arm encircling my chest. He laughed against my flesh, then the fangs retracted and settled in. His mouth closed on my skin and my entire world dissolved into pain. My heart felt heavy, as if a rock were pressing on it, and I sagged.
“No,” I croaked, before shaking my head to clear it. I kicked back at him, connecting with a leg that felt hard as granite. “No, no, no!”
“No.” Chev descended on us, a whirl of black hair and fabric engulfed in luminescence. She tore the vampire off of me, but rather than tossing him away, she raised him up. Suspended a foot off the ground, his pale eyes were wide over a mouth red and full of fangs.
“This guest has injured you?” she asked without looking at me. I pressed my hand against the bite mark, trying to stop the hot flow of blood.
“Yes.”
“And did you want him to?”
“Tell her,” Abel rasped, influence burrowing into my mind. I reached for Chev instinctively, pulling from her to deflect him. She turned then, looking directly at me, her eyes impossibly bright.
“What are you?” she demanded.
“Human. And I did not want him to hurt me.”
She leaned close. I had to close my eyes so that I wouldn’t be blinded.
“Almost a lie,” she whispered against my ear. “Almost.”
I’d wanted her to intervene. I’d exchanged his bite for her presence. I hadn’t wanted the bite. She turned to Abel, and satisfaction rolled out of her. No, she didn’t like him at all.
“Violence is not permitted here,” she said.
“We are outside your grounds,” he insisted, arrogant instead of pleading. As if she didn’t know every inch of her territory.
“No.” She pointed to a spot about three feet away, then drew a line with her finger to where we stood. “You were inside of it.”
A muscle in Abel’s cheek twitched, and his glare was as sharp as a knife. I smiled bitterly. You go ahead and glare at me. Glare all you want. You hurt me. You hurt my friends. Weak, scared, human, I still ended you.
“Richard Abel. You have violated the rules of my home.” Chev spread her hand across his chest, long, tawny fingers full of power. And, with her will, she tore him apart. He exploded, her energy tearing through and out of him. A fine mist of blood drifted to the ground, darkening it. The rest of him was simply gone. I’d expected something tidy and discreet.
“Oh, holy…” My knees weakened and I swayed.
Malcolm caught me and I grabbed hold of him. His energy was frantic, a swarm of hornets buzzing against me, but it felt so unsubstantial that I couldn’t tell if I was in shock or if he was close to collapsing. When I turned toward him, his hand covered my eyes for a moment before he pulled me against him and pressed my head into his neck. His scent, comforting and crisp, was muddled beneath the iron tang of blood.
“Have you ever gone anywhere without making a mess?” Chev asked, her normally flat tone lifted with exasperation. The feel of her focused attention made me wince. “You used me.”
“As you used us,” Malcolm answered while my mind stuttered under the accusation. I mean, yeah, I had, but it wasn’t like I’d invented her rules.
“I asked you to root out a problem,” Chev said.
“Which I did,” Mal replied. “He sent his people to harass your feeders. Unrelated, he attacked us.”
“You were working for her, too?” I asked.
“Humans are fragile,” Chev said. “But those in our care are to be protected. What happened to you is not acceptable.”
“They aren’t the only ones you need to be worried about,” Malcolm said. “There are some people west of here you need to speak to. Local hires. Mercenaries with no qualms against trying to burn vampires out. I suggest you look into whether there are more nearby who share their ideology. You’re too limited, Chev. You need to secure more than this swath of land if you want to continue to rule here.”
It didn’t seem like a good idea to taunt a vampire that had dissolved someone with her mind, but Mal seemed more angry than worried. His hand skated up my back, pressing me closer.
“One day, Malcolm Kelly, you’re going to step on the toes of someone who does not care that you are right. They will only care that you didn’t mind your place.”
“I meant it only as a friendly warning,” Malcolm said. “I like what you’ve built here.”
“So do we.” Chev wandered away, looking over the wreckage.
“We made it,” I said on a long exhale.
“Did you doubt we would?”
I looked around. Shattered cars. A motionless lump that used to be Emil. The stain that was all that remained of Richard Abel.
“Everything happened so fast. Are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine.”
He smiled, his eyes dark and tired-looking. Blood trickled down his neck and I had to search to find a clean place to kiss him. His skin was cool. Usually fighting made him run hot, and the unexpected sensation pulled my thoughts into sharp focus. He was strong, but he’d been pushed hard in the past few hours. He could still be taken from me, and I wanted all the time I could get with him. I just needed to take care of some unfinished business first.
“I need to speak to Bronson,” I said, turning toward the resort. A thin stream of lights marked the path between the building and us. Chev’s staff, coming to clean up the mess so that her guests wouldn’t be disturbed.
“This isn’t the best time,” Mal murmured. “Let’s go in, let things settle first.”
My hand curled closed around the punctures Abel had made. With Chev radiating power the way she was, they were already closed. Sophie and other of Abel’s acolytes milled about near the wrecked vehicles. None of them looked particularly comfortable, but who would after your boss exploded into a bloody cloud?
“I guess we can wait a few minutes. Let me check on Kevin, then we can go. He was out for a while after we crashed.”
Malcolm closed his eyes and shook his head, denying that image.
“It was only a small crash,” I said apologetically.
“I heard it from a mile away. There was nothing small about it. Promise me you’ll be more careful, after this.”
“Cross my heart,” I said. We’d be together. There wouldn’t be any reason to take risks.
; Kevin sat on the road, dazed, his legs sprawled out before him. I crouched in front of him, wincing at the raw pull of my skinned knees.
“Hey, we need to get out of the way while they clean up.”
His chin tipped up. His eyes were owlish behind dark frames.
“Did you see what she did? That’s some CGI shit, r-r-ight? We’re still in LA and wandered onto a movie set or something? Right?” His pupils dilated slightly as he peered over my shoulder. Power billowed around me. Bronson.
I stood. The Master wore a tuxedo with a pine-green bow tie and held a wineglass full of…not wine. A shudder ran through me, clenching my spine and making my shoulders shake. His eyes flashed white in one instant, then darkened in the next.
“They are still celebrating Abel’s ascension into my ranks.” He gestured over his shoulder with his glass before raising it to just beneath his nose. Not drinking, just scenting. “And now the celebration must become a funeral.”
“He had it coming.” My hand clenched again, fingertips brushing the thick scabs where Abel’s teeth had been. A hard seed formed on the roof of my mouth and I swallowed carefully around it. Had anyone ever choked on a blood pearl?
“You should have given him to me,” Bronson said, tilting his head toward Chev though his eyes remained on me. “He was my responsibility.”
“He was my responsibility,” Chev said as she swept past. “As is everything here. If you will excuse me for a moment.”
She touched Malcolm’s shoulder and they stepped away to speak together. I hoped that he wasn’t taking on new work. We needed a break. We deserved one.
Chev’s people arrived in twos and threes, some carrying supplies, others carrying freaking lanterns. Any other night, I would have laughed. Instead I raised my chin, fighting the letdown of adrenaline and the clashing waves of vampire energy. I just had to keep going, keep the façade up, for a little longer.
“This is Kevin.” I said to Bronson, jostling the chemist’s shoulder. His mouth snapped shut. “Delivered as promised.”
“And what can you do for me, Kevin?” Bronson asked, the words simple but laced with his insistent charm. Kevin’s legs drew up as if he would stand, but when Bronson raised his hand, the chemist stayed where he was.
“I’ve figured out ways to make chemicals easy for vampires to absorb. It took a few years, but the system is both unique and—”
“That may be of use. What else?”
“Well…shit, that’s hot. Sorry. Sorry about that. I have a drug that can calm your hunger, take the edge off.” His brow furrowed. “For a while.”
“I’m aware of your drug. I have been aware for some time, though your former employer insisted upon demonstrating the effects for me again.” He gestured toward Sophie, standing alone in the middle of the road. “You will provide me with the location of every altered ounce of it, then you will destroy all your notes related to its production. What else?”
Kevin’s mouth opened and closed, then he shook his head.
“Think about it.” Bronson drained his glass and held it out. It was immediately swooped up by a passing vampire in a uniform. “Dig deep, and let me know if you have any other ideas. I’d prefer the ones you fear the world is not ready for.”
I hoped it was so that he could stop any more stupid formulas before they were ever manufactured. But maybe not. Bronson had allowed Abel to mess with Sophie even though he already knew what Radia did. I couldn’t see any altruistic reason for that. He’d wanted a demonstration of loyalty, a sacrifice from Abel and his new flock.
Malcolm joined us, not as close as I would have liked, but strategically placing himself between Bronson and me. His shirt was black with blood, and dirt streaked his face over darker bruises. He was barely emitting any power, all his resources pulled tight as he healed. My throat tightened. I wanted to slip under his arm and held him stand, but there were a lot of appraising eyes on him right now. Signaling his weakness wouldn’t do him any favors.
Bronson took a deep breath, and I frowned. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him breathe before.
“It seems this is the night for keeping our word.” His upper lip rolled up a bit and quivered before he readjusted it over his teeth.
“I’ve got a database,” Kevin blurted out. “For the humans like her. Names and addresses.”
The master vampire’s eyes sparked. “How many?”
“Eighteen.” He scrambled to his feet, giving Bronson a wide berth as he moved to face him. “None of them are quite like her, but with a big enough sample, some new formulas, I know I can make something effective.”
“And what’s different about her?” Bronson asked, his voice so full of teasing charm that I was tempted to answer him.
Kevin raised both palms. “I don’t know what’s different, but her blood is crazy potent.”
“Wait over there,” Bronson said, pointing. Kevin turned on his heel and marched away, and I stifled the urge to run when Bronson examined me.
“Well?” he asked, turning to Malcolm.
“I examined the other samples he has with him,” Malcolm said. “None of the others come close. She may not meet the old definition, but even if she’s not, she’s the closest thing to it that’s still walking the earth.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked. It was like being at the doctor as a child and having him tell your mother how to take care of you because you were too stupid to do it. Except that Malcolm was sneaking apologetic glances at me and Bronson was practically beaming.
“It means that you really are a Puer Morsus, or the modern equivalent.” Bronson caught my wrist, making me stumble toward him. He turned my hand over. The scabs were dark and dry, the flesh around them plump and pink. “A Morsus thrives on our energy, which you have already demonstrated. You will also, soon I think, be able to transmute that energy, altering it within your own body until you can return it to the vampire from which you received it. You will calm him in return for the vitality he grants you. Grant him peace of mind.”
His tone was firm, as if he wasn’t using “him” in a generic sense but was thinking of a specific “him.” I backed away when he released me, but he followed and I had to stop myself from fleeing. But holding my ground brought him too close. Despite his radiating concern, Malcolm didn’t move to intercede. What the hell was going on?
“It’s a symbiotic relationship,” Mal said, and because he sounded calm I tried to be. “It has to be chosen by the Morsus. She can utilize any vampire’s energy. What she returns has to be freely given. She has to want it to work. The effect is, at the least, nullified if she is forced, coerced, or influenced in any way. At worst, it could actually cause harm.”
He’d asked if I wanted it to make Soraya better. It had seemed strange, like asking if you wanted ice cream for every meal. Well, of course, but wanting didn’t make something real. Human choice had never fared well against vampire will. Mal didn’t tell Bronson about the healing properties, and the slanted look he gave me stopped me from mentioning it.
“Well,” I said, trying to sound as boring as possible so that his attention would go elsewhere, “that’s cool, I guess.”
“You can align with anyone you choose,” Bronson said, and his tone was no longer light. “I will not push you. However, your loyalty will earn you a place of power with me. Danger will no longer touch you. You will always be comfortable. Would you like that?”
“I’m all for not having to fear for my life, but—”
“It’s settled, then.” Bronson raised a hand, cutting me off, then turned to Malcolm. “Do you know she bargained for you? Rather than negotiate for herself, she asked to have your service reduced by half. And so it is. Reduced from two years to one.”
“A little less than one,” I said, both relieved and confused that it had been so easy. “Petr has the details.”
Mal looked at me from beneath his lashes. His hair stirred in the breeze that was finally bringing breathable air into the hot, stale night. The
lantern light caught the auburn highlights in the rich brown, and warmed his pale skin. His eyes were dark whiskey, the sparks in their depths so small they could have been a trick of the light.
“Sydney was compromised then,” he said. “She should be given the chance for another bargain.”
I shook my head. “I’d make the same choice now.”
He smiled crookedly, one side of his face too damaged to fulfill the expression. And he didn’t look especially happy. The skin around his eyes didn’t crinkle in that disarming way. He didn’t raise an eyebrow or wink or show any sign that this conversation was going well. He looked sad and…knowing. His lips rose as best they could in a halfhearted reassurance, but he knew something that I didn’t. I opened my mouth to reject whatever had his eyes sliding away from me, but Bronson spoke first.
“Richard Abel had pledged his loyalty,” he said, his tone so hard that I flinched.
“I’m aware,” Mal replied.
“And I’d accepted his pledge. Were you aware of that?”
Across the road, Chev’s people flipped the van back onto its tires in a shriek of metal.
Mal nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. “Yes.”
“And still you pursued and fought him,” Bronson pressed.
“What can I say? He got under my skin.” Malcolm shrugged.
My confusion gave way to a thin sort of panic. He’d screwed up and Bronson was going to hurt him. Everything we’d been through and everything we’d done didn’t matter. No matter what we did, no matter what we gave up, the possibility of pain—of punishment—would always be hanging over him like a noose. He’d never be allowed to win.
“Wait at the resort,” Bronson said to me. “Take her.”
Someone touched my arm, wrenching my gaze away from Mal. The back of the hand was slick, like the scar tissue over a burn. I raised my eyes. Vesta, the soldier who’d tried to snack on me. She had the good grace to look sheepish.
“She should stay,” Mal said, his words heavy with influence. “She hasn’t agreed yet. Let her watch before she makes her decision about allegiances.”
Falling from the Light (The Night Runner Series Book 3) Page 28
