Death Kissed (Nightworld: Court of Magic Book 1)

by J. N. Colon

  My head lowered back to my plate, and I uttered a short spell to heighten my hearing. Maybe I’d get lucky, and they’d mention something about the shifters or the vampire named Mila from Missy’s memories.

  “Tonight’s going to be a blast.” A faint Russian accent slithered around the vampire’s words, foreign and fascinating.

  I bet the girls just love him.

  With those mysterious eyes, wild locks, and hard, manly features, he probably didn’t need compulsion to get a pretty young victim to present her neck.

  A ping echoed, and the other vampire lifted his phone. “She sent a text.” He dressed like a frat boy in jeans and a tight polo molding over a broad chest and thick, muscular arms. He didn’t have any trouble getting a meal either. “Mila has another delivery ready.”

  My spine snapped straight. No freaking way. I could not be that lucky.

  “She wants to move the merchandise from the funeral home to the factory tonight,” the frat boy said.

  Funeral home? I slipped my phone from my pocket and pulled up Google, doing a search on funeral homes in the vampire region of Chicago. Of course a gazillion listings popped up.

  A long sigh drifted out, and I slumped on the stool, scrolling through the names. This would take forever. What was I even looking for? I doubt there’d be a picture of a funeral home donning a giant neon sign that read Vampire Lair.

  What kind of merchandise would vampires store at a funeral home? Were they dealing drugs or selling stolen property?

  I grabbed a fry, the grainy salt rubbing against my fingertips, and dumped it into the melting vanilla shake. A smile twitched at my lips. This combination always disgusted Francis.

  I clicked through each funeral home, studying the pictures of manicured grounds, tombstones, stone mausoleums, and visitation rooms. A shudder rippled over my back imagining my dead body on display for days and then shoved into the ground to rot for eternity. I’d much rather have a traditional witch burial where the deceased was burned on a funeral pyre and then sprinkled back into the earth or sea.

  On the tenth funeral home, my pulse spiked through the roof at the picture on the website, and the cold fry fell from my fingers. I pinched the screen to zoom in on the front entrance of Varcolac Funeral Home.

  I’ll be damned.

  The enormous black door sported a bronze lion head knocker, exactly like the one from Missy’s memories. The vixen vampire Mila had been in front of this funeral home and not a house.

  I dunked one more fry into my milkshake before wiping my hands on a napkin and jumping off the stool. Whether this had anything to do with the East Side Slasher or not, I didn’t want to waste the opportunity to find out. I had to get there before the vampires moved this mysterious merchandise.

  The chilly night air slammed into me as I stepped out of the diner and scoured the street for a ride. Pedestrians crowded the sidewalk, heading for a night on the town. None of them knew it could be their last.

  Finally, a dented taxi screeched to a halt in front of the grimy curb. A cloud of BO and old sweat crinkled my nose as I hopped into the worn, stained interior. The ten tree-shaped air fresheners dangling from the rearview mirror weren’t enough to cover up that stench.

  “245 Helen Lane,” I said, staring at the picture of Varcolac Funeral Home on my phone.

  Screw calling Caleb. I could handle this investigation on my own. Besides, this was a recon mission. How much trouble could I really get into snooping around in the heart of vampire territory?

  Chapter 13

  Faint, silvery moonlight caught another figure slinking across the manicured lawn toward the antique Victorian house. I cursed and shrank back into the cover of the tall oak tree, the leaves ominously rustling like leathery bat wings.

  Just how many vampires lurked on the grounds of Varcolac Funeral home?

  My fingers dug into the rough bark as I took a deep, measured breath and exhaled, fog slowly billowing from my mouth. Another form emerged, darting down the sidewalk and onto the porch. The slam of a door echoed.

  With a name like Varcolac, I should have known this place would be crawling with undead bloodsuckers.

  I needed to sneak closer. And what was I looking for exactly?

  No idea.

  The dry whisper of quick footsteps on plush grass whipped through the lawn.

  Air stuck in my throat, and I crouched back against the trunk as a vampire zipped by less than ten feet away. I muttered a spell under my breath to camouflage me within the shadows, trying to keep my pulse from going erratic. The spell worked against humans, but vampires?

  It could go either way.

  When the blur disappeared around the corner, I slumped against the tree, breathing heavily.

  Close call.

  After waiting another ten minutes without any more vampire sightings, I wiped a dribble of sweat off my forehead and crept to the porch.

  The bronze lion head knocker gleamed in the flickering gaslights framing the glossy black door. I stepped back, peering into the exact windowpane from Missy’s memories. The ebony shutters outlined a lobby area instead of a living room.

  I can’t believe I got this damn lucky.

  My fingers ran over the chilly leather of Caleb’s jacket. Maybe the douche canoe had a lucky rabbit’s foot stuck in this thing somewhere.

  I shook the thoughts of the fae prince off and laid my hand on the doorknob, but it wouldn’t budge.

  A locked door never stopped me before. Violet sparked off my fingertips, and a click echoed, releasing the mechanism inside the knob. I held my breath and slipped inside, meeting the softly lit lobby area of Varcolac Funeral Home.

  I carefully tiptoed across the marble, making it to a long, patterned rug that muted the rubber soles of my Doc Marten boots. My nose crinkled at the choking aroma of flowers and lingering perfume. How many funerals or wakes had taken place earlier today?

  Within the opening of a set of double doors, a burgundy casket loomed, flowers fanning around it. A three-legged stand held a large picture—a portrait of the deceased—hidden behind a black covering.

  A shiver spilled down my back. Was a corpse in that casket?

  I darted by a few closed doors and leaned against a wall, the floral gray and white wallpaper rough against my palm. A long corridor stretched ahead and branched off in two directions at the end.

  This place was huge, a virtual sea of rooms, doors, hallways, and dark corners. Searching through this maze blindly wasn’t the best idea and doing it alone while vampires lurked was icing on the treacherous cake.

  I gnawed on my bottom lip as my hand slipped into my pocket, fingers brushing the tip of my phone.

  Maybe I should call Caleb.

  My spine snapped straight. Absolutely not. I didn’t need that jackass. He’d probably bust in with guns blazing and demand the vampires surrender to the almighty Unseelie Court.

  The loud slam of a door reverberated like the crack of a whip, causing my heart to take a flying leap into my throat.

  Shit! Someone was coming.

  I scurried toward a door, twisting the knob. My teeth ground. Of course it was locked.

  “How many do we have tonight?” A lyrical female voice resonated down the marble hall as footsteps grew closer.

  If I didn’t move from this spot, those vampires were going to hear the frantic drum of my pulse.

  Tiny bolts of purple electricity zapped over my fingers, disengaging the lock. I hurried inside and closed the door to a scant crack. My breathing came in quick pants as two shadows passed.

  “Five this time,” the male answered. “Mila has a good operation going.”

  The pair disappeared around the corner, and I slumped against the door, a line of sweat leaking down my temple.

  Now what?

  I glanced behind me, flipping on a light to reveal a storage closet stuffed with folding chairs, vases, and a myriad of silk flowers. The stale, musty air made my skin itch. Piles of old newspapers and pamphlets cluttered th
e floor all the way to a wide metal door on the opposite wall. Basement was painted in scarlet letters in the center.

  I weaved my way across the storage room and pushed on the long metal handle. The loud creak made me wince as the door swung open to a set of concrete steps.

  Could I be any louder?

  My heart danced a ragged beat as I slowly let the door close until a thick layer of darkness consumed everything. I tugged my phone out of my pocket and used the flashlight to illuminate the stairs. Tingles radiated across my scalp. The landing below was barely visible.

  My fingers ran along the cold metal railing, and my boots made muted taps on each concrete step as I descended into the basement of the funeral home. I accessed a tiny bit of my magic in case a vampire jumped out. Or a shifter. Missy had been here for a reason.

  By the time I made it to the bottom, my knees shook. I’d been involved in my fair share of perilous adventures, but walking into a secret vampire operation alone clocked pretty high on the danger scale.

  I tiptoed through the hall and pressed my ear to another door. Faint voices bounced through the hollow wood. Shit. How many were out there?

  My hand trembled as I gingerly twisted the knob, holding my breath as I pulled the door open and peered out. A hallway of gleaming white tile stretched into shadows at either end. The acrid scent of chemicals burned my eyes, turning my vision blurry. I stifled a groan at the choking presence of embalming fluid and disinfectant. How could vampires stand to be near that crap without gagging?

  I wiped away the moisture that had collected on my lashes and slipped out, dashing to a corner where the hall split off.

  “The drivers should be arriving soon.” A broad male vampire appeared, shoving his phone into his pocket. “They were able to score a utility van.”

  Mila strode out of the room, swaying her narrow hips encased in leather and dropped a key into the guy’s outstretched palm. “Go ahead of us and prepare the factory.”

  He nodded and turned, marching in the opposite direction while Mila strode back through the door.

  With my heart in my throat, I sprinted forward and peered into a space full of pristine white tiles and stainless steel. A female vampire casually dressed in jeans and a graphic tee perched on a metal table, absentmindedly tapping on her phone. A shelf lined with jugs of fluid loomed behind her, and a sink took up a large portion of the brushed metal counter.

  My stomach churned, and I could feel the blood leaching from my cheeks. An embalming room. Gory images flashed through my mind, ones of corpses—perhaps the ones left by the East Side Slasher—lying on the silver slabs while their chest cavities were sliced open and organs oozing out.

  I gagged.

  Get it together, Thorn!

  Another two vampires poked around in the cabinets, drawing out scalpels and various medical instruments. I shuddered. What was that hook thing used for? My gaze traveled to the left of the sterile room, a gasp lodging in my throat. Five figures were slumped on the floor, unconscious.

  Chills ran over my body as I put the puzzle pieces together. This wasn’t a drug operation, but it did involve stolen goods.

  The merchandise consisted of five humans bound with white plastic zip ties around their hands and feet.

  A vampire bent, his leather duster dragging across the shiny floor, and he brushed back the long, wheat-colored hair of a female human who couldn’t have been more than eighteen, maybe younger. His long, pale fingers stroked the delicate skin on her neck as if trying to coax her veins to the surface.

  “I bet you taste as sweet as you look.” He leaned forward, his fangs headed straight for the girl’s jugular.

  Magic seared over my hands, ready to strike. I couldn’t watch him rip her throat out.

  Mila zipped over and wrenched his head away. A snarl ripped from his fanged mouth, but he halted when he realized the sultry vampire was the one who stopped him.

  “What did I say, Rick?” She stood over him, her eyes burning crimson and her face as hard as granite.

  Rick’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “The humans are not to be bitten.”

  “Exactly.” She released her tight grip on his shaggy brown hair. “Not one ounce of blood will be taken from any of these humans.” Her long scarlet fingernail motioned over the five hostages. “Is that clear?”

  He quickly nodded and scrambled away to perch against a wall.

  I slinked back into the corner again, my pulse thundering. All signs pointed to the vampires as the culprits behind the East Side Slasher. What other reason would Mila have for keeping the humans free of bite marks? They wouldn’t want any evidence tying the victims to vampires.

  A line of cold sweat rolled down my neck, leaking into my tank top. I needed to get the hell out of here and deliver this information to Lachlan before one of the vampires noticed me.

  A smile hitched up the edges of my lips. This nightmare could all be over by the end of the night.

  My scalp prickled as a heavy presence materialized behind me. A sheet of ice converged around my sternum, cutting off my airways. Shit. Something had definitely gotten the drop on me.

  Before I could face my assailant, solid arms clamped around my waist and dragged me deeper into the shadows. I kicked and struggled in the vise-like grip, but it was no use.

  Whoever—or whatever—had me wasn’t letting go.

  Chapter 14

  Magic rippled over my hands, and sparks lit the dark hallway as I struggled against the creature’s iron grasp. My heart battered my ribs so violently the bones threatened to shatter.

  Had a venator finally found me?

  Or did the grand witch decide to personally drag me back to Illyria for punishment?

  I rammed my elbow into my captor’s hard torso. A grunt echoed. Maybe a bloodthirsty vampire had discovered my hiding spot.

  Fingers twisted into my jacket, and I was spun. The death raker began to emerge.

  “It’s me, Rose Thorn.” A body molded to mine, pressing me into the wall.

  After several moments of heavy silence, that husky whisper and familiar scent penetrated the panic coating my brain.

  “Caleb!” I hissed, finding his luminescent eyes in the shadows. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  He rested his forearm above my head and leaned closer until the tips of his soft hair brushed my face. “I’m following our lead.”

  “Our lead?” I scoffed. Wait a minute. “How did you even know to come to Varcolac Funeral Home?”

  That signature grin twisted his pouty lips. “I might have put a tracking rune on your phone.”

  I punched his side, but he barely moved. “You are such a jackass! I should—”

  He covered my mouth with his fingers, stopping my rush of angry words. “Be quiet. You don’t want them to hear us, do you?” He ticked his head toward the end of the hall. “Vampires do have stellar senses.”

  I pushed him off, putting some much-needed space between us. I couldn’t focus with him all around me. “Why didn’t you call instead of sneaking in like a creeper and scaring the shit out of me?”

  “I was going to lie low unless things got dicey. I figured you wanted some time alone after...” He studied my lips as his tongue ran over the loop piercing his bottom one.

  Heat slid over me, and anger wasn’t the only cause perpetuating it. “After the complete asshole you were the other night?” I finished for him.

  “That might be a little strong, don’t you think?” Caleb shortened the distance between us again, his fingers sliding down my arm. “Nice jacket.”

  My hand twitched with the urge to smack the gorgeous off his face. “Thanks to you, my one and only jacket was left at Jake’s.”

  “And because of me, you got this lead from Lawrence’s girlfriend.” He jerked this thumb over his shoulder. “Do you think these vampires are the guilty ones?”

  As much as I wanted to sit here and tear the prince a new one, I’d rather get out of this perilous situation first.
“They’ve got five unconscious humans in there, and Mila, the leader, gave strict orders not to drink even one drop of blood.” She’d almost yanked Rick’s head off for attempting to take a nibble. “Why else would vampires keep live humans around without feeding from them unless they’re to serve a specific purpose?”

  Caleb rubbed his palm over his chin, a line developing between his brows. “They wouldn’t want bites marring the bodies, which would link the victims to vampires.” He glanced down the hall and chewed his bottom lip. “How many bloodsuckers did you see?”

  “Five vampires are in the embalming room with the unconscious humans.” That included Mila, and she had my hackles raised. Danger lingered around her like a second skin. “And a couple more elsewhere in the building.”

  “Between the both of us, we can handle it.” Caleb pivoted and skulked down the hall.

  Was he serious!

  I ran after him. “What are you doing?” I wrapped my hand around his arm and pulled him to a stop. “We don’t know how many vampires are actually here. There could be a couple dozen inside or surrounding the funeral home.”

  Caleb rolled his eyes and pried my fingers off. “Live a little, Rose Thorn. Besides, I’m a fae prince, and you’re a death raker witch. We’ve got enough power between us to take on a couple dozen vampires.” He pulled a sleek wooden stake from his boot, slapping it in my palm. “At least one of us came prepared.”

  An irate huff slipped out as I shoved the stake in my jacket pocket and followed him into the lion’s den. This cocky bastard was going to get us killed.

  “What do we have here?” Caleb sauntered into the sterile medical area as if he owned the place. “A couple of greedy vampires breaking the Nightworld decrees?”

  I flanked Caleb’s side, my powers lurking just below the surface. The two vampires—a male and female—were still collecting items from the stainless steel cabinet while the other girl had hopped off the embalming table and taken a seat on a rolling stool. Thirsty Rick leaned against the wall, his attention continuing to pull to the unconscious human he almost bit.