Black Night bw-2

by Christina Henry

  I didn’t have time to think or to protect myself as the shock wave hit, and I felt my magic wink out in an instant.

  Great. Now I was totally helpless and surrounded by enemies, and the wolf was beyond help. But I could still try to discover the identity of its attacker. I knew one thing for sure—this was the same creature that had killed the other wolves. The shock wave confirmed that.

  The darkness made it hard to see, and my lack of magic meant that I couldn’t conjure up a ball of flame to light my way. Amarantha had lit the catwalks with torches, but here on the ground everything was swathed in shadow. Beezle puffed and panted behind me. The wolf had long since stopped crying, and the howls of the other wolves had ceased.

  I ran forward blindly and tripped, flew a few feet and landed on my face in the dirt. Dirt and other things. Thank goodness my mouth was closed.

  I came to my knees and looked around in the faint light. The same scene of carnage that had greeted me twice before was here. The coppery smell of blood filled the air.

  “Dammit,” I said to Beezle. “How many times are we going to be too late?”

  “A question I have asked myself, as well, Madeline Black,” a rumbling voice said behind me.

  I stood and turned to face Wade, Jude, James and another wolf I didn’t know.

  “You didn’t see anyone, either?” I asked.

  “We see you, Agent,” James growled.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” I said. “I was trying to help him.”

  “Peace, James,” Wade said with a cautioning hand.

  “Why, Wade?” Jude said, angrily pushing forward. He bristled all over with fury. “Three times she has been at the death of a pack member. This time she’s covered in blood. What more do you want?”

  “Uh, how about some evidence?” I asked.

  “I see the evidence all over you,” Jude said, and James growled in agreement.

  Wolves could see much better than I could in the dark. I’m sure that I appeared pretty incriminating, but I wasn’t about to be tried for a crime I didn’t commit.

  “I was racing to help your pack mate and I tripped in the dark,” I said patiently. I didn’t have any magic to defend myself and I wasn’t about to go hand to hand with a wolf a hundred pounds heavier than me.

  “If Madeline Black says that is what happened, then it is so,” Wade said.

  Jude made a noise of frustration, but he stepped away from me. He had to obey his alpha or challenge him in front of the pack.

  I looked at Wade, ignoring Jude. “How was your pack mate separated from the rest of you?”

  I knew that members of the pack generally slept as wolves in a large community pile, and the disheveled appearance of the others indicated that they had settled in for the night.

  “Ethan said he was feeling restless,” Wade said. “Faerie magic is not comfortable for us. Ethan tolerated it less well than others.”

  “So was he followed outside, or did the killer just take the opportunity that presented itself?” I wondered.

  “And was the killer already here under some pretext, or did he follow us and lie in wait?” Wade said. He turned to speak to the other two. “Collect the remains and search for clues.”

  He beckoned me closer, and we moved slightly away from the rest of the pack. “Have you any theories, Madeline Black?”

  I shook my head. “I can’t figure out the killer’s motivation. Is someone trying to sabotage your negotiations with Amarantha? If they are, there are more effective ways of doing that. It would be difficult to connect the deaths in Chicago with the faeries seeing as they did not occur in Amarantha’s kingdom. Why were your pack mates out alone in the city, anyway?”

  “We had come to the city for another purpose. Both times our pack mates were called on their cell phones and left quickly. Neither time did they indicate who had called them or why.”

  “So they were lured by someone. Do you have enemies that could do this?”

  Wade grinned, and it was more the showing of teeth than a pleasant smile. “Our oldest and most determined enemy has long been your grandfather Lucifer.”

  “Oh,” I said, not knowing what to say. I kind of wanted to apologize for my bloodline, but I resisted the urge. “But have you found any evidence that the deaths are related to Lucifer?”

  “Sadly, no,” Wade replied. “But then, there is no evidence that it isn’t Lucifer. There is no evidence of any kind to incriminate anyone. And before you ask, yes, there are other packs with which we have grievances.”

  “So it could have nothing to do with the fallen or the faeries and have everything to do with a pack argument.”

  Wade nodded. “Yes, that could be. But if it is pack related, the wolves must be getting magical assistance from another party. Werewolves have the magic to shift from one form to another. We are incredibly strong and heal quickly, but we do not have the ability to spellcast as you and some other creatures do. A wolf attacking another wolf would leave traces of itself behind—in scent, in rent flesh and fur. If another pack is attacking us, then someone is following behind to ensure that no evidence is left behind, and that someone is using magic.”

  I rubbed my forehead. “Why is it that the more we talk about it, the more complicated it becomes? If there’s no evidence, how are we going to find the killer and stop him?”

  “Him?” Wade said. “How do you know it is a him?”

  I shrugged. “I assumed, I guess. Somehow I tend not to think of women as being this cruel.”

  And the deaths were cruel. It was one thing to kill—out of need, out of self-defense—but this was not simple murder. The killer had clearly taken a rapacious enjoyment in shredding the victim into pieces.

  “If you think that a female is not capable of this, then you have obviously not spent enough time with Amarantha,” Wade said.

  “Well, that’s comforting,” I muttered. “Speaking of the queen, are you going to tell her about this? I’m kind of surprised the whole castle isn’t out here gaping.”

  “I am not surprised. Faeries are generally reluctant to involve themselves in situations not to their advantage.”

  “So there could be a witness somewhere inside the castle, but we’ll never know because the faerie wouldn’t see the advantage in telling us?”

  “That is correct,” Wade replied.

  “Do you know how much I hate it here?” I muttered.

  Wade laughed, a giant belly laugh that boomed through the courtyard. “Even if you are the granddaughter of Lucifer, I like you, Madeline Black.”

  I smiled back. It was hard not to like the big burly wolf.

  He nodded to me, sobering. “I must assist my pack in the burial of our brother. Until we meet again. En Taro Adun!”

  He turned and walked away before I had a chance to ask him what on earth “En Taro Adun” meant.

  Beezle fluttered up. “Have we had enough excitement for one night yet?”

  “Oh, yeah,” I replied. “Snacks?”

  “Only if you brought something good. I’m not eating any of those granola bars.”

  “Right, because a vitamin might enter your bloodstream and then your whole system would go into shock.”

  We walked back into the castle through a side door. I was forced to ask one of the servants for directions back to my room. He wordlessly beckoned us to follow him.

  After another twisting and turning adventure through the maze that was Amarantha’s castle, we came to our room. I was looking forward to swallowing one of Beezle’s hated granola bars, showering the gore and dirt off me and collapsing into bed. But as soon as I opened the door, I realized I wasn’t going to get my wish anytime soon.

  Nathaniel stood in the middle of the room with his arms crossed and a furious look on his face.

  “Where in the four hells have you been, and why are you covered in blood?”

  12

  “UH, I THINK I MIGHT TAKE A FLY OUT TO THE BALCONY I saw down the way,” Beezle said. “Back in a littl
e while.”

  He flew back out the door and pulled it shut behind him. Traitor.

  “What are you doing in here?” I snapped back. I was tired, I was filthy, and I was in absolutely no mood for Nathaniel. “I thought I locked that door.”

  “It is an insult to our future marriage to put a locked door between us.”

  “It is also an insult to your future wife to assume that her wishes have no bearing if they interfere with yours.”

  He waved that comment away. “You did not answer my question. Why are you covered in blood? What have you been doing, killing more of Amarantha’s pets? I warn you, I will not take it kindly if you do anything further to jeopardize the months of hard work I have committed to reestablishing relations with the faeries.”

  “Is that all you can think about?” I shouted. “There are bigger things going on here than your advancement in Lucifer’s kingdom.”

  “As my future wife, you should be more invested in my advancement—” he began.

  I cut him off. “Enough. Really, enough. You need to stop acting like you can use our engagement as some kind of lever to get me to do what you want. I don’t want to marry you, and you talking about it like I’m entering into indentured servitude is not making me feel better about the situation.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “So, you finally admit that you hate me.”

  I clenched my fists. “Did I say that? No, I said that I don’t want to marry you. And why would I? I don’t know you. My father forced me into an engagement with you and all you do is tell me how I ought to be acting so that it reflects better on you.”

  “And all you do is sneer at me and treat me with disrespect. It is clear to everyone that you despise me.”

  His anger seemed to be growing with each passing moment. I could feel the aura of magic around him pulsing out, pushing against me in fury. There was something unnatural about that power, something that felt not quite like the power he had shown before. My burned-out magic still lay quiet somewhere inside me, and I felt a little afraid. But my own anger overrode that feeling.

  “You haven’t done very much to try to make me like you.”

  “Did I not assist you in finding the gargoyle? Did I not save you from the spider in the forest when you were overcome by poison? Have I not kept the secret of the thrall’s disappearance from my lord, as you have asked? You do not know in what jeopardy I have placed myself by this action. Lord Azazel would be in his rights to cast me out of the courts of the fallen, to torture me, to sell me to a demon court in punishment.”

  I realized that he had put himself in danger for me, and I felt my anger let up a little. I still didn’t like him very much, still didn’t want to marry him, but it seemed like he was trying. I opened my mouth to apologize, to try to smooth things over, but it was too late.

  “And not only do you despise me, but you have shamed me,” he said, and his eyes were not exactly Nathaniel’s eyes. There was venom, a pulse of malice that, for all his irritating personal habits, I would never associate with Nathaniel. Something was wrong here, something more than Nathaniel’s wounded pride. But I was too angry myself to pay attention to that sense of wrongness.

  I felt my temper fire up again. “Shamed you how?”

  “By loving the thrall,” he said.

  I felt everything inside me go still. No one could know about that. No one could even suspect that I felt that way about Gabriel. Well, Lucifer knew, but he was keeping that card in his pocket for some reason of his own. But nobody else could know. If they did, Lucifer’s hand would be forced and Gabriel’s life would be forfeit. It wouldn’t even matter that nothing physical had ever happened between us other than a couple of kisses. Even the possibility that a half nephilim might breed with the daughter of Lord Azazel would be enough to send the sword to his neck.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, and my voice was all wobbly.

  “Liar,” he replied, and he stalked toward me. “It is there for anyone with eyes to see.”

  Was that true? Had I betrayed us? I’d thought I’d done a better job of hiding my feelings.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said again, and this time my voice was clear and confident. “Gabriel is my bodyguard, nothing more.”

  Nathaniel gripped my shoulders and squeezed so hard that I cried out. I tried to pull away from him but he held me firmly in place and I felt panic rise up. He was stronger than me, a lot stronger. And I had no magic.

  “He may be nothing more than your bodyguard now,” Nathaniel hissed. “But that is not what you desire of him. It is there in every look that passes between you. It is there in the way that he stands too close to you. It is there in the way your fingertips brush when you walk side by side. It was there in your eyes when you asked me to help you find him, to help you keep the secret of his disappearance from Azazel. Your heart speaks through your face, Madeline. Your love for that thing is there for all to see, and my heart burns in shame when I see it.”

  His hands clenched tighter. He was going to bruise my shoulders. I tried to calm him, to soothe.

  “Nathaniel, I’m sorry you think that. I’m sorry you feel that way.” I flapped my hands ineffectually at the ends of my wrists. My arms were locked to my sides. “Nathaniel. Nathaniel, you’re hurting me.”

  His eyes had turned from frost blue to a dark and blazing sapphire. He looked at me but also beyond at something else only he could see. He pulled me tighter, pulled me closer, until our bodies were pressed together and I couldn’t escape his embrace. I was horrified to feel his erection brush against my stomach.

  “Sorry?” he repeated, and his eyes refocused on mine. They were the eyes of a predator. It was like Nathaniel was gone, replaced by something monstrous. “Sorry? I will make you sorry.”

  I saw what he intended and I felt cold sweat break out all over my skin. I began to thrash, to scream, but he pressed his lips against mine and swallowed my cry. I couldn’t move my arms but I could clamp down on his lower lip, and I did until he cried out and bled.

  “You little bitch,” he said, and he backhanded me across the face with all his strength.

  My ears rang and I saw stars. I think I blacked out for a minute because the next thing I knew he was on top of me, pulling at my bloody clothes.

  “No,” I said, squirming underneath him, trying to find purchase to punch him, to kick. He had my limbs locked down. “No.”

  I felt air on my exposed breasts, tasted his blood in my mouth when he pressed another brutal kiss on me. This could not happen.

  “No,” I yelled this time and with that my sleeping magic awoke.

  Just as when I’d been attacked by Samiel in the alley, I let the magic push up and out and through me. Nathaniel was flung from my body and crashed into a dresser on the other side of the room. The mirror shattered into a million pieces and the shards flew off with enough force to embed in his arms and back. I could see the twinkling edges of glass protruding from his neck.

  I leapt off the bed, drawing nightfire, and hit him full on in the chest with it before he could think. He cried out in pain and I saw the blast burn through his shirt and through the skin of his chest. Scorched muscle showed underneath. He didn’t move.

  I stalked toward him, full of fury. He couldn’t be dead yet. I wasn’t done killing him.

  He opened his eyes, and they were bleary. I raised another ball of nightfire on my palm and made to throw.

  “Wait,” he said, his voice croaky and hoarse.

  “Now I know what you are,” I said, and my voice did not sound like my own.

  I knew that my eyes must be alight with starshine. I could feel the magic inside me burning in a new way and was filled with not only a desire to take revenge, but a desire to hurt. I wanted him to crawl, to be humiliated. I wanted him to feel the helplessness I had felt. And that feeling was so alien, so monstrous, that it made me pause. I dialed it back a little, just enough so that I felt like myself again.
r />   “Now I know what you are,” I repeated, and my magic covered me like a cloak, pulsing and angry. “You are a monster. I will never marry you.”

  He held his hand in front of him as he struggled to his feet, trying to ward off another attack. “Madeline, I don’t know what came over me. It wasn’t me. You must believe me. It wasn’t me. I’m . . .”

  “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry. You’re not sorry. You’re sorry you didn’t succeed.”

  “No, I did not mean . . .”

  “I know what you meant,” I said through my teeth. “And what do you think Lord Azazel will say when he discovers that you tried to defile his only daughter?”

  Nathaniel went pale as the moon. I saw him tremble all over. “You must not . . . you must . . .”

  “I must do what I feel is right,” I said. “Your wishes are hardly relevant.”

  He fell to his knees again, held his hands out in supplication. “You must not tell Lord Azazel. He will kill me.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, hating him with every cell in my body. “What makes you think that I won’t kill you?”

  His hands fell to his sides. “You are right. I have behaved unforgivably. You are well within your rights to end my life.”

  I had never seen him like this—his will broken, his body injured. Despite what he had done to me, what he had meant to do to me, I felt a stirring of pity. I knew that I shouldn’t. I was sure now that Nathaniel would never value anything above his own pride, his own advancement. I knew I didn’t want to marry him before—now I knew that I never could. I could never be of so little value to my husband.

  “Go,” I said. “Our engagement is over. I will break it to Azazel.”

  “Will you tell him what has occurred here?”

  “I will if I have to,” I said.

  His face shifted and he looked suddenly crafty for a moment—and I again had the sensation that another person was looking through his eyes. “It would be my word against yours, in any case.”