Eternal Kiss of Darkness nhw-2

by Jeaniene Frost

  Frank’s interviews with Around the World’s staff resulted in all of them saying they’d never seen Jennifer, yet here she was, dancing naked under the stage name of Candy Corn while still one year too young to legally even be let in the door.

  Could Jennifer really have been hiding in plain, explicit sight this whole time? Or did those who noticed not remember afterward because Jennifer was right, and her boyfriend Flare really wasn’t human?

  Kira took in a deep breath. She’d only come here to get a foothold in the vampire world in the hopes of its leading her to Mencheres. Not to get involved in a case where a young girl might have become an unwilling stripper for a vampire. Jennifer had asked her boyfriend for help two years ago. That didn’t sound like Jennifer wanted to be in this situation, but things might have changed. If they hadn’t, and Jennifer was held against her will by a vampire, it would be damn hard for Kira to help Jennifer do anything about that, as she knew from experience.

  Save one life, Mack’s credo echoed in her mind. Mack hadn’t taken the easy way out when it came to her over a decade ago. If he had, Kira probably wouldn’t be alive. This situation was way over her head, yes, but Kira couldn’t just walk away without even trying to see if Jennifer needed help.

  She squared her shoulders and flagged down the next topless waitress who walked by.

  “Who do I see about setting up a private lap dance?”

  K ira sat in one of the private booths that were sectioned off from the rest of the room. After several minutes, the dark curtains parted, and Jennifer appeared, smiling seductively as she approached.

  “Hi, beautiful,” Jennifer crooned, running her hands up Kira’s legs as she began to twist her hips. “I was hoping you’d be the one waiting for me—”

  “Jennifer,” Kira said quietly. “Jennifer Jackson.”

  The girl paused, her eyes darting around. Then she began snake-hipping again, leaning forward to brush her breasts against Kira’s legs.

  “How do you know my name?” she whispered.

  This was an awkward way to carry on a conversation. Jennifer was naked except for an extremely small g-string, and she kept rubbing and swaying her body against Kira. Kira assumed the curtained booths were being monitored if Jennifer kept up the lap dancing even though she now guessed Kira wasn’t just here for a thrill. Jennifer didn’t seem to be afraid to verbally acknowledge her real name, though, so maybe the monitoring was only visual. Kira tried to fix an appreciative look on her face and ignore the softer parts Jennifer pressed on her as she spoke.

  “I’m an investigator your parents hired,” Kira whispered back.

  Jennifer’s face twisted even though her frozen smile still remained. “They can’t help me. Neither can you. Get out before you’re discovered or you might end up like me.”

  Poor girl clearly sounded like she was here against her will. Kira’s resolve strengthened. Someone had forced Jennifer to disappear from her family’s life at seventeen to become a stripper. What if Kira’s little sister had been the one kidnapped so young, and someone who could have helped Tina didn’t try because it might be too dangerous? She’d wanted to become a cop to protect the people who needed it. Well, here was someone who really needed it, and Kira might be the only one who knew enough about what held Jennifer to help her get away.

  “Did Flare make people forget they’d even seen you when you tried to get away before?” Kira asked, taking the plunge.

  Jennifer stopped in the act of straddling her. “Who are you? How do you know that?”

  “Keep dancing,” Kira hissed. Jennifer began her sultry squirming again even though her practiced smile had slipped.

  “I’m someone who knows what kind of creature can make people forget things they’ve seen with just a look,” Kira said, her confidence growing as Jennifer’s expression changed from suspicious to hopeful.

  She would hang a bat sign in her apartment window and shine a big light behind it to get Mencheres’s attention if she had to. Or she’d take an ad out in the papers with her picture and a plea for someone tall, dark, and dead to contact her. Everyone but Mencheres would think she was just a crazy, horny female. Mencheres had kept Kira captive before, yes, but he’d been faultless in his courteous treatment of her. Kira couldn’t imagine that he’d condone another vampire’s snatching a teenage girl from her family and forcing her to strip.

  “And I’m someone with a gun containing silver bullets right here in my purse,” Kira went on. “If you come with me, Jennifer, I’ll try to get you away from this. I—I know someone who might be able to help.”

  From how hopeless Jennifer had sounded before, she probably hadn’t tried to escape in years. With luck, Flare wasn’t here tonight, and any others who were supposed to keep an eye on Jennifer had grown lax. If she and Jennifer quietly snuck out a back entrance, they could be away before any of the bouncers or staff noticed . . .

  The curtains snapped open, and a stocky male appeared. Both Kira and Jennifer jumped. A sinking feeling coursed through her as the young man’s eyes changed from whatever color they had been to glowing, bright green.

  “Why hello there,” the vampire said. “And just who might you be?”

  Kira’s hand went immediately into her purse for her gun, but the vampire had her wrist seized before she’d even grasped the handle. Jennifer bleated in fear and jumped back, cringing against the curtained wall. The vampire hauled Kira up with her wrist still held in that painful grip.

  Shit! ran through her mind over and over. She should have had the gun in her hand before she began talking to Jennifer. Maybe then she could’ve squeezed off a shot that would’ve disabled the vampire enough for her and Jennifer to get away.

  The vampire grabbed her purse in a flash, yanking on Kira’s wrist hard enough for her to feel like her arm was about to be ripped out of its socket.

  “Don’t move,” he said, his eyes flashing green.

  She didn’t, but not because she had a sudden mesmerizing compulsion to stand still. If the vampire thought mind-control tricks worked on her, she might stand a better chance of escaping.

  The vampire freed her wrist, making a band of hope arc through Kira. He was buying it! Now just walk away and leave me alone while you rifle through my purse . . .

  He didn’t, but Kira kept her face from showing her disappointment as he pulled out her gun and checked the clip.

  “You really do have silver bullets in this,” the vampire said musingly. “And you were trying to steal Jenny away. Who put you up to this?”

  “No one,” Kira replied, attempting to fix a glazed expression on her face even though her heart hammered with fear. Those ghouls had gutted her in a second. This vampire could do the same. Any moment, she might be looking down at a horrible lethal wound before she’d even realized the vampire moved.

  The vampire frowned, grasping her chin in a grip hard enough to make her jaw creak.

  “I said, who put you up to this? Only another vampire would know to send you here packing silver bullets. Whose pet are you, hmmm? Give me a name.”

  “No vampire sent me. I’m a private investigator. Jennifer’s parents hired my firm,” Kira replied in as much of a monotone as she could manage. If she was very, very lucky, the vampire would flash more green in her eyes, tell her she’d seen nothing, assume that erased her memory, and send her on her way. She could redouble her efforts to find Mencheres and come back later with him to help Jennifer . . .

  “You’re really hot,” the vampire said, looking her over. Fangs flashed when he grinned. “Too old for a job here, though. My customers like ’em young, real wet behind the ears still—and wet in other places.”

  He laughed at his crude joke. Kira didn’t blink. That’s right, I’m too old to force into nude dancing, so just send me on my way.

  “But you sure are a sexy thing,” the vampire continued. He grasped her wrist again, this time hard enough to make her bones grind together. “And you’re lying your pretty little ass off,” he whispered
as he yanked Kira closer.

  His breath smelled like alcohol fumes when he blew it out after a deep inhalation. “No scent of vampire on you, but you could’ve washed that off easy enough, and someone sure sent you here,” he went on. “Someone who told you about silver and who fed you enough of their blood to make you immune to my gaze, or you’d have spilled who they were by now. Who is it, sweetie? And why did that person want you to steal my property from me? Tell Papa Flare all about it.”

  Despite the fear and adrenaline coursing through her, Kira thought of her promise to Mencheres not to tell anyone about him. She swallowed hard while her instincts warned her that she walked a razor’s edge between life and death right now.

  “I came on my own—”

  Pain exploded in her face, so quick it stunned her. Her eyes teared, her head rang, and blood filled her mouth. As suspected, she hadn’t even seen Flare move before feeling the effects of his striking her.

  Flare smiled as Kira regrouped from the blow. It reminded her of the smile that ghoul had given her a couple weeks ago. Right before he’d torn her stomach open.

  “So you need a little persuading before you tell me who it is, huh?” Flare asked. He sounded almost elated. “Well, we’ll need a more private place to talk then, won’t we?”

  Chapter 12

  Mencheres snapped his suitcase shut, taking a final look around the bedroom. It was the last time he’d see this tiny space with its unappealing décor. He wouldn’t spare a thought about leaving under normal circumstances, but it was symbolic of his decision. He wasn’t coming back. Not to this room, or this house, or this city. He’d lingered here too long already, loath to severe that final connection to the human who still haunted his thoughts even though he’d kept his vow not to follow Kira again.

  Gorgon came into the room, his blue eyes somber. The Nordic vampire could sense his sire’s moods, especially now with the normal shielding Mencheres maintained slipping as he looked around again. Selene, Kurt, and Sam had already left the day before. It was time for him and Gorgon to go. He could delay no longer.

  “The plane is fueling?” Mencheres asked.

  “Yes.”

  Mencheres gave Gorgon a dry smile. “You need not go with me, my friend. I have told you many times that you should occupy yourself with other things aside from my domestic duties.”

  Gorgon smiled back, stretching the scar that ran down the length of his cheek. “And I have told you that what I choose to do with my time is my concern.”

  Gorgon’s loyalty was required as a member of Mencheres’s line. His friendship was not. Neither was his genuine affection and concern. Some things simply could not be commanded by fear, respect, or power.

  Mencheres didn’t say it, but he was grateful to have Gorgon by his side, knowing the vampire cared for him beyond the bounds of obligation. If he told Gorgon how much of a comfort he’d been during the past several harsh centuries, it would add to Gorgon’s determination to stay—which held Gorgon back from what he should become.

  “Why do you refuse to ask me for freedom from my line? You know I would grant it to you. You are past the time when you should be your own Master.”

  Gorgon squeezed Mencheres’s shoulder. “When you no longer need me, I shall leave.”

  That would be soon enough. The grave loomed ahead whether he sought it now or not. Perhaps he would stage his death to appear as though Radjedef had done it. The thought sent cold satisfaction through Mencheres. You seek my end, Radje, but when it comes, I shall ensure that it brings you down, too.

  Gorgon’s mobile phone rang. “Probably the pilot,” he murmured, walking away.

  Mencheres steeled himself not to take another look around as he left the room and went down the hall of the third floor. The air was still faintly scented with lemon, Kira’s essence lingering as if she were a spirit taunting him.

  Mencheres walked faster, taking the stairs two at a time. When he was free of this house, he would be free of reminders of Kira, breaking the strange, hypnotic sway her memory seemed to hold over him. He had no time for this useless longing over a woman who was fated not to be his.

  “Sire.”

  Gorgon’s voice cracked through the empty house, filled with an urgency that made Mencheres spin around in midstep. He ascended the stairs without touching them this time, flying up to the third floor.

  Gorgon’s countenance was stony as he held out his phone. “You need to take this.”

  K ira watched Flare through one eye and a haze of pain. After he’d dragged her and Jennifer upstairs into a section of the club that was empty of anyone except two other equally abusive vampires, he’d continued to demand that Kira tell him what vampire sent her here. She refused. The beatings to her face grew more severe, but still, she wouldn’t break her promise to Mencheres. Then Flare had taken her hand and slowly crushed it in his fist, smiling the entire time.

  The agony from her bones splintering under that merciless grip had been more intense than anything she’d felt before. Flare kept his hand closed over her shattered one, continuing to squeeze, while his other hand began to yank up her skirt.

  “How’d you like to be fucked while I squeeze your hand tighter with every pump, hmm, sweetie?” Flare crooned.

  Kira thought she’d pass out from the pain, which would have been a welcome respite, but she stayed conscious. Everything in her rebelled against breaking her word, but this animal meant what he said. From his expression, Flare would enjoy it, too.

  “Mencheres,” she gasped out. “He didn’t send me here, but . . . I know Mencheres.”

  Flare let go of her so abruptly she fell over, her vision blackening for several moments. When Kira could focus again, she saw Flare exchanging a wary glance with the two other vampires.

  “That’s a fucking problem,” the bald-headed one muttered.

  “If she’s telling the truth,” Flare countered. The cheerful expression he’d worn for the past hour slipped, and he began to pace. “Put her over there. I need to check this out.”

  The bald vampire hauled Kira up, sitting her in a chair. Everything swam in her vision for a few moments at the agony from her hand being jostled, but she took several deep breaths and kept herself from screaming. Jennifer edged a little closer to Kira’s chair, not touching her but staring at her with silent sympathy.

  Kira stayed quiet while Flare began making a series of phone calls, repeating to several people that he urgently needed to get through to Mencheres. She had no idea what sort of response Flare was getting, but every so often, he would throw a calculating, probing glance her way.

  She wasn’t sure which felt worse: the pain or her shame at breaking her promise to Mencheres. Still, she couldn’t have allowed Flare to carry through with his threat. From what she knew of Mencheres, he’d understand.

  “Finally got through,” Flare said with a sharp glance at her. “He’s coming to the phone now. Moment of truth for you, sweetie.”

  Kira suppressed a shudder. Flare didn’t need to add that what happened in the next few seconds determined whether or not she would die. She already knew that. The question that loomed in her mind was whether or not she could stand what Flare would do to her before he killed her.

  “This is Mencheres?” Flare asked. “Yeah, sorry to bother you, but I have this human at my place who insists she belongs to you.”

  “I said I knew him,” Kira corrected at once, coughing a little at the blood in her mouth.

  A heavy hand landed on her shoulder, five fingers tightening in warning. Even that slight movement blasted more pain through her hand.

  “Shhh,” the bald vampire blew out threateningly.

  “She’s about five-five, dirty blond hair, pretty. Name on her driver’s license is Kira Graceling,” Flare went on.

  He straightened from his easy slouch in the next moment, his expression turning grim.

  “Uh-huh. Right. No, she’s mostly fine . . . in a club called Around the World on State Street, Chicago Heights. Wh
y don’t we—”

  Flare clicked his phone shut. “He hung up, and he said he’s on his way,” he told the room at large.

  The bald vampire’s hand left Kira’s shoulder. “Shit, bro.”

  “I didn’t fucking know!” Flare snapped. “I mean, what’re the odds?”

  Kira was weak with relief at hearing that Mencheres was on his way, but there was too much subtext going on for her to know if that meant she was out of danger or not. And she was having a hard time concentrating while mind-blistering pain continued to sear through her.

  “You might want to fix her up,” the vampire with the dreadlocks stated. “If Mencheres is coming to get her himself, then she’s higher up on the food chain than just a blood snack to one of his people.”

  “Maybe not. He’s gotta be local, since he said he’d be here in twenty minutes,” Flare replied almost sullenly. “And if you’re right, he’ll be more pissed if she tells him I fucked her up, but he can’t see for himself that it wasn’t bad.”

  Not bad? True, compared to what the ghouls had done to her, Kira was in stellar condition, but how cruel Jennifer’s time with him must have been if this is what Flare considered “not bad.”

  Jennifer. More shame swept through her. Some savior she’d turned out to be.

  “How close are you to Mencheres?” Flare asked her suddenly. “You fucking him, or just feeding him?”

  Kira turned her head away in silent refusal to answer. If she read the mood of the room correctly, Flare wouldn’t dare beat her anymore unless Mencheres got here, then left her with Flare out of anger for Kira’s breaking her word. But she didn’t believe Mencheres would do that, no matter how upset he was at her for revealing that she knew him.

  Though this was hardly the way she’d hoped to see him again.