Darkness Descending

by Devyn Quinn

  Jesse looked down at her hand. The thing he’d handed her was shiny, black, and about six inches long. There was a small button of some sort near the top. “What’s this?”

  “Push the button,” he advised.

  She did. A long silver blade appeared, snapping into place with a click-lock sound. The force of the spring action nearly caused her to drop it. “Oh, man!” She eyed the sharp beauty. “This is awesome.”

  One corner of his fine mouth turned up. “Consider it yours. I know you’ve been on your own for a long time, but maybe this will help you out if you get in a tight spot.”

  Jesse gingerly disengaged the spring, folding the knife in half before tucking it in her hip pocket. “Thanks.” She liked that Maddox had enough respect for her not to coddle her or treat her like some sort of hothouse flower. There were going to be times when he couldn’t or wouldn’t be around to watch her back.

  “Make sure you have the intent to use it if you pull it on anyone,” he warned. “Wouldn’t want anyone to take it away from you and cut your throat.”

  She patted her butt. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

  Maddox responded with a long, silent look. “No, I don’t think I do. But just to make sure, you’d better take this.”

  Her brows rose. “What?”

  He dipped into a side pocket of his jacket. When he extended his hand, Jesse recognized a rosary with a silver cross dangling from a leather cord. “I think you should carry this. Just to be safe. We killed a Consanguine, and they are going to be pissed once they figure out he’s missing. They will be looking to get even.”

  Jesse wasn’t sure she liked the idea of carrying something that was repulsive to the demonic entities. As a half soul, she was part demon herself. Anything that affected the monster inside weakened her. “I still don’t understand how that silver thing works, anyway,” she groused as a way to put him off.

  “Some of us believe the power of the Enlightened One flows from consecrated items,” he filled in helpfully. “Doesn’t matter if it’s a cross, an ankh, or a Star of David.”

  “What if I don’t believe in any greater being?” she shot back. “I mean, if there is such a being who proposes to love mankind so much, why would she let such terrible things loose in the world?”

  Maddox didn’t blink. “Faith and the belief in any being greater than oneself is something everyone has to come to terms with on his or her own. I can’t tell you what to believe, or not. I can only share what works for me.”

  Jesse had spent many a night wrestling with her own active psyche, questioning the fate she’d been handed. In the end, she’d come to the conclusion there were no real answers. She could only go through one day at a time and hope she was doing the right thing. “I guess none of us will ever have the answers we want,” she allowed.

  Maddox jerked his hand, causing the cross to swing like a pendulum from its leather cord. “Whether or not you want to believe, it’s one of the best weapons we have against these things.”

  Jesse reluctantly accepted his offering. Holding the holy icon immediately made her skin crawl. Swallowing hard, she momentarily closed her eyes, fighting to accustom herself to the heated sensation flowing through her veins. I’m the one in control, she reminded the demon inside. Not you.

  The unsettling sensation eased when she slid it into a pocket. Out of sight, but hardly out of mind. “I suppose you carry one, too. Just for a little backup.”

  Maddox offered a mirthless smile. “I can take care of myself,” he said, but his gaze wouldn’t meet hers.

  For some reason she didn’t like the sound of his answer. It was too glib, too careless. He wasn’t being entirely truthful, and she knew it. “So where are you going?”

  He shrugged. “Around.”

  Jesse didn’t want to pry, but she didn’t exactly want to be left hanging, either. “Anywhere I can go, too?” If he was going to meet up with Reyen and Sam and go off for a little slaying action, she wanted in on the deal.

  Blowing out a breath, he shook his head. “Not really.” He shrugged again. “Something I have to take care of. You’re not a part of it. It’s personal business.”

  The way he threw out that last offhand bit caused her inner antennae to straighten up and hum. He was definitely up to something. And she’d bet a hundred to one it did concern her. She just didn’t know how. Yet.

  “Okay. I guess that says it all. You don’t want me tagging along, and that’s cool.” Her tennis shoe scuffing the ragged concrete beneath her feet, she offered her own shrug. “So I’m going to go scrounge up something to eat.” She jerked a thumb over one shoulder. “Diner’s that way, right?”

  Maddox shoved his hands in his pockets. “About eight blocks. If you stay to the middle of the streets and away from the alleys, you should be fine.”

  Jesse offered a smile of confidence she definitely didn’t feel. “Yeah, I will.” She made a show of tucking his offering into a pocket. “Got a knife. Got a cross. Nothing I can’t handle now.”

  “Right.” Turning on his heel, Maddox started to walk away, then paused to turn. “If you get back first, don’t wait up. I’ll be gone all night.”

  She raised a hand and offered a halfhearted wave. “Whatever, man. I ain’t your momma.”

  Setting off at a steady pace, Maddox disappeared down the dimly lit street. But he wasn’t heading out of the ravaged district. He was heading toward its center, the core of devastation and squalor.

  Jesse couldn’t help but think of his destination as anything other than the ninth circle of hell. There was nothing good to be found where he was heading.

  That was why she decided to follow him.

  But first she had to ditch something. The switchblade? Yeah. That would come in handy. The cross? No. The last thing she wanted to do was repel vampires. She wanted those suckers to swarm at her like flies.

  She quickly tucked the rosary in a crack between the bricks. Bring it on. She could retrieve it later.

  Living on the streets and keeping out of people’s sight had given Jesse the uncanny ability of a sneak. She knew how to blend in, using her surroundings as camouflage. Maddox had not more than turned a corner before she was off, dogging his steps like a bloodhound.

  The first few blocks they passed through were sparsely populated. It wasn’t hard to hide or keep out of sight. Maddox kept walking, making little attempt to conceal himself or his presence. He walked with the speed of a man intent on reaching his destination as soon as possible.

  The blocks quickly stacked up, a half mile turning into a mile, and then two. More people began to appear. Some were in cars; others on motorcycles. Given the poverty of the area, most were on foot. Like her, these folks were rugged and rough, veterans at living on the edge of society. Nobody cared if these people lived or died.

  The area Maddox seemed to be heading into was easily recognizable as a shopping center. At least, that was what it was before most people were forced out by the continual flooding that had plagued the area long before Katrina struck. There were times when the area was covered by water between four and six feet deep.

  More interesting than what the previous business owners had taken with them was what they’d left behind. The surrounding marshlands were beginning to reclaim the area, and the overgrowth of plants had already begun to grow around buildings and over walkways, the plants even threading themselves through the cracks in the asphalt. This part of the city was sinking. In a decade it would probably all be under water again. No wonder the city had given up on trying to reclaim it. No amount of construction could stop the destructive forces of Mother Nature.

  Nevertheless, a few enterprising people were determined to carve out a place for themselves and their businesses. However, these weren’t the sort of businesses the tourists would want to frequent. Many locals, too, were wary of setting foot in the area.

  The shopping center had once carried the name of Basin Court. Someone had recently pulled down half of the h
uge metal sign, leaving it to read SIN COURT.

  The name fit the place well. While the place had no city services like water or electricity, enterprising people had managed to circumvent those things by simply using more portable or primitive methods. Some of the buildings were lit by camp lights while the peddler plying his or her wares next door might have built a fire right in the middle of the sidewalk. Street musicians plucked at their instruments, and sad bluesy tunes filled the air.

  Whether illegal or underground, it all took place in this bazaar of vice. Name your poison and step right up.

  Under the gloom of night, the sight was eclectic and wholly absorbing. Dealers openly dealt their drugs, servicing people eager to escape the numbing constraints of poverty and despair. People lounged, staggered, or were plainly passed out across the parking lots and in the streets. But it was more than booze or narcotics. The underground sex clubs also did a brisk and booming trade.

  Maddox passed the desecrated sign without a second look. He seemed to be familiar with the area, weaving his way through the mix of people who’d come to spend the evening there. More than a few people seemed to know who he was.

  Subtly moving the blade Maddox had given her from her hip pocket to her hand, Jesse crept into the shadows of a nearby building and peeked around the corner. Maddox was making no attempt to conceal himself or his presence. I can’t believe he’d come here.

  She slipped out of the shadows onto the sidewalk. It was getting harder to keep up with him now. More people were beginning to emerge as the night darkened and deepened.

  She hadn’t taken more than two steps when a hand tugged at the sleeve of her jacket. “Nice,” a man’s voice slurred. His grip tightened, pulling harder. The nauseating scent of alcohol and body odor permeated her nostrils.

  Totally caught by surprise, Jesse reacted with pure instinct. Adrenaline pumping, she flicked the switchblade open, stabbing at the unwelcome hand. “Lay off!”

  The bum yelped and snatched his hand away.

  Jesse quickly flicked the blade shut. She didn’t want anyone to see what she’d done, mostly because she didn’t relish the idea that someone might want the knife worse than they wanted the jacket. She immediately realized her mistake in wearing such a nice piece of clothing. She stuck out like a sore thumb. People were beginning to notice her.

  She hurried off in the direction Maddox had taken. In the back of her mind she had the idea of catching up with him. Yeah, he’d probably be pissed she’d followed him, but it was stupid to come into a place like this alone. For the first time in ages she felt like she couldn’t handle herself.

  I made a mistake.

  Catching sight of him as he crossed one of the vacant lots, she hurried after him. Maddox didn’t look to the right or left as he walked, heading toward a dimly lit building that looked as if it used to be a clothing shop of some sort. This one, too, was lit by battery-powered lamps. Unlike the others, most of the lamps were covered by red scarves. Scantily clad women posed, preened, and strutted. What little clothing they wore was barely there.

  Seeing Maddox, one of the women broke away from the others. She was tall, mocha skinned, and close to angelically beautiful.

  Greeting him with a smile of welcome, she practically glued herself to his lanky frame. “Baby doll,” she greeted.

  The sight stopped Jesse dead in her tracks. While she expected Maddox to pull away, he did exactly the opposite. Instead, he slipped his hand around her waist, tucking his hand into the back pocket of a denim skirt so short the crack of her ass was visible. They walked together, steps perfectly in sync.

  Watching Maddox walk toward the den of iniquity with a woman built like a brick house sent Jesse’s heart plunging to her feet. Not an hour ago she’d been in his bed. She had made love to him with every ounce of passion her young body possessed.

  No wonder he’d so nonchalantly cast her aside.

  He had another woman waiting for him.

  Her first thought was that her initial impression had been the correct one. Maddox was a bastard. Her second thought exploded on a curse. She was stupid, a fool, to think he’d wanted her for anything more than sex.

  Anger leapt up in her chest; her fists were ready to fly. Her hand tightened around the blade he’d given her. She’d keep it, of course. It was something she could use.

  As for Maddox . . .

  “We’re done,” she muttered. “Finished.”

  Jesse broke the eerie paralysis that held her. Tethering her fury, she turned away from his betrayal. Her eyes narrowed into slits, and she squeezed the handle of the switchblade harder. Now that she knew how to kill the undead, she didn’t need to waste her time hanging around with Maddox and his ilk.

  Fighting back nausea, she ground her teeth. As far as she was concerned, she’d had enough of his deceit.

  The first thing that went through Maddox’s mind as he let Nayia lead him into the dimly lit interior where she plied her trade was that he shouldn’t be there. He needed to turn around, walk away, and never look back. It was a bad place for him to be, a place he’d promised himself he’d never seek out again.

  But instead of doing what was right, he kept on walking, putting one foot in front of the other.

  The building had once housed an upscale clothing boutique. Gutted by flooding and looting, Dante’s Inferno was a fetish palace, the kind of establishment that catered to people who wanted to fulfill perverse sexual desires. No matter how sick or bizarre the fantasy, no patron was ever turned away. Satisfaction was guaranteed.

  The place was littered with mattresses, lounges, and other odd pieces of furniture that would provide a comfortable place to sit or lie down.

  “I wondered what had happened to you.” Nayia smiled as she led him toward her “space.” At one time it had served as a dressing room. Though the mirrors had long ago been stripped away by vandals, her little nook was more private, less exposed, than others out in the open. Nayia was one of the senior girls on the strip and had worked her way into the coveted spot.

  Maddox shrugged. “I promised myself I wouldn’t come anymore.”

  She laughed as she shut and locked the door. The space was maybe five feet by five feet at the most, but she’d managed to shove a mattress inside. She’d covered it with a throw of crimson streaked with black. The sweet fragrance of sandalwood and cinnamon-scented candles filled the narrow space with a cloying scent.

  Nayia sat down on the mattress, patting the empty space beside her. “I knew you couldn’t stay away. You want it too much.”

  He cleared his throat, letting out a huff of air. “Yeah. That’s the thing. I want it too damn much.” So much that he’d tried to push Jesse into giving him what he craved, even though the consequence of his need could have been deadly for her.

  Slipping off his jacket, Maddox settled down beside her. Being so close to her, wanting her so badly was a hell he almost couldn’t force himself to endure any longer. He was heartrendingly conscious of her lush body, so very aware of the aura of her female sexuality. He was also attuned to his own arousal, barely able to stop himself from leaning over and capturing her mouth with his.

  Nayia lifted a hand, drawing it along his neck. “That’s why you always come back to me. I know what you want, how to satisfy your hunger.”

  “I wish it would leave me alone,” he said, his tone edgy. Tense, he flexed his fingers. His head started to pound as the tension in his muscles locked his veins. The temperature in the closed space suddenly seemed scorching.

  He lifted his hands, pressing his fingers to his forehead. He hadn’t really slept much, and the exertions of the last few days were beginning to catch up with him.

  Gentle hands brushed his away. Straddling his lap, she pressed the pads of her fingers to his skin, making slow circles against his temples. Her hands moved lower, the tips of her fingers caressing his cheeks, then his jawline and down his neck. Her hands settled on his shoulders and began to work the tense muscles at the base of his neck.
There was nothing subtle in her touch. It was strong, firm, and more than a little painful when her fingers dug into his skin. But it was a good kind of pain, a pain he welcomed and savored.

  As she massaged him, he received a faintly shocking charge of sensual awareness. A wave of heat suffused him, and every nerve ending in his body burst into painful life. His body coiled in anticipation. He subconsciously knew what physical pleasures would be waiting for him if only he dared to succumb to the lure of this lovely woman. It shocked him a little that he should feel this heady, almost wanton longing inside his soul. His entire soul burned with heat and the restless surging male urgency that she seemed to be deliberately trying to incite. He was fighting to hold on to his self-control, and losing.

  “You keep trying to fight your need,” she whispered, obviously feeling the tension and resistance shimmering through him. “You should let go and embrace it.”

  Swallowing hard, Maddox looked into the depths of her dark gaze. Little sparks of fire seemed to dance in her eyes, wicked and enticing. “I wish I could.”

  Nayia gave him a long, sly look, enjoying her power over him. She smiled again. Her straight white teeth appeared to be growing longer—deliciously sharper.

  Maddox smiled at the familiar sight. Nayia wasn’t human—she hadn’t been for centuries. Like Serafina, her heritage was a mixed one, that of Spaniard and Native American. As near as he could figure, she was about four centuries old. Like most of the older Consanguines, spreading out in the world to stake out their own claim on the human race, she was allowed to move independent of the core collective. Humans, particularly men, also enjoyed her, for she provided a service that many flocked to experience.

  Nayia didn’t sell her body. She sold her bite.

  She reached for his shirt, expertly plucking open the buttons and spreading the material away from his chest. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the imprint of bites on his neck and scratches across his chest. “I see another has been here before me.” She traced one of the scratches with a single finger. “I sense the clumsiness of a youngling.”