Midnight Ash (A Blushing Death Novel)

by Sabol, Suzanne M.

  Patrick signed the papers with a characteristic flare of his fountain pen, ignoring the urgency in Danny’s voice. After several tense moments, Patrick turned his gaze up from the documents, handing them back to Roger Markov and ignoring Danny as he dismissed Roger with a quick nod.

  “What’s your issue this evening, Daniel?” Patrick mocked, knowing full well that Danny hated being called by his full name. He wasn’t even trying to hide his disdain. Everyone in the room bristled at Patrick’s tone, even me.

  “Watch it, Blooksucker,” Danny threatened, taking a dangerous step forward.

  I cleared my throat as I pushed off the wall. I hadn’t reached for my blade. I had no intention of using it. Both Patrick and Danny looked at me instead of each other. Distraction. Good.

  Patrick exhaled a deep breath of resignation and closed his eyes for a moment. When he reopened them, his dark eyes were neutral and blank again. Danny sneered at me, curling his lip up as his hazel gray eyes bled to the Amber of his wolf. The Gaoh harrumphed to himself as he leaned back on the couch.

  I took a few careful steps along the middle beam, in toward the center of the room without looking down. “Danny thinks someone was in my house.”

  Patrick’s anxiety skyrocketed through my gut and my knees buckled under the weight of his unease. My breath caught in my lungs, making them burn with the pressure. I shut down the empathic link between us like slamming a vault closed. I breathed again, alone, swimming in my own emotional hell. Thank God! Patrick rounded the desk, shifting his focus between Danny and myself with careful movements and a controlled, blank expression I knew was a lie.

  “Are you sure?” Patrick asked.

  “There was someone else there,” Danny stated with confidence.

  Patrick gazed down at me with an unreadable expression in his dark eyes.

  “Did you have anyone new in your house?” His gaze bore through me like an arrow, slowly turning in the breeze. I didn’t deserve the interrogation or the accusation in his tone. The implications of his question sent gooseflesh skidding across my skin and my fingers itched to pull the knife.

  “No,” I snapped. I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin in defiance. Who the hell did he think he was? I wasn’t a prisoner to be interrogated. Fuck him. Fuck them both.

  Patrick took a deep breath and clasped his hands behind his back, turning as he strode back behind his desk.

  “There’s something else,” I added and watched worry creep across Patrick’s face. I hated that furrowed brow above his beautiful dark eyes and that I was the cause of it.

  “Whoever it was, smelled . . . different,” I said, shoving my hands in the pockets of my jeans. He cocked an eyebrow at me like I’d finally said something that intrigued him. “Like rotten flowers. Gardenias or Magnolias I think. Jasmine, maybe? The flowers smelled white, if that makes sense,”

  Patrick nodded and closed his eyes. Dread filled me.

  “There will have to be a change of plans,” Patrick whispered to Alex.

  “What plan?” I asked, agitated. They’d all been sitting around talking about me again.

  Danny glanced anywhere but at me as his shoulders slumped a little in shame.

  Sonovabitch! Now, I was pissed. The fragile little human can’t take care of herself. Well, fuck them and their physical superiority. I was tired of it. I could take care of myself just fine and had proven just that on several occasions.

  My face flushed and my cheeks warmed with my anger as my blood rushed through my body, boiling over with rage.

  I shot a quick glance over at Dean, the only person who didn’t seem to be caught up in the ‘let’s protect Dahlia’ game plan. I imagined him holding that damned tiger in his giant hands and slowly twisting its neck until its face was wiped from my memory.

  A chill ran up my spine and Patrick reached out his cool hand to caress my cheek. I jumped at the sudden contact and drew the gun at my back without a second thought. I met his dark eyes with my own and what I saw there made me swallow, hard. His expression was filled with surprise, caution, and finally fear. I guess I was more spooked than I’d thought. He hesitated, reaching out with slow steady fingers to touch my face.

  I lowered the gun. The heated flush in my cheeks retreated as I gained at least some control over my emotions.

  “There’s something else?” he asked.

  I’d pulled a weapon on him. My response had been too drastic and my heart pounded too hard. His eyes softened. Patrick was a smart guy. He knew something was wrong. My reaction to his touch was too extreme, even for me. I hadn’t realized how much that dream had gotten to me until I saw the panic in Patrick’s eyes.

  “Later,” I said. “What’s the change in plan? What’s the plan, period?” I asked, ignoring the concerned looks around the room. I straightened, standing taller and shifting my gun back into the holster at the small of my back. I felt more relaxed touching the butt of the gun with its weight in my hand and the smell of gun oil on my fingers. That should have worried me but I was surrounded by things that could kill me and I was pissed as hell to boot.

  “Alex and I had intended to confront the board in Lebensblut New York offices, force them to come up with a compromise we could all live with,” he said, turning from me. He strode back behind his desk.

  “I’d hoped we could stop this before it started. Make amends somehow. Tithe something that would convince them to leave us in peace.” He looked to Alex. “Now I’m afraid we’re too late. We’ll make an appeal to those loyal to us but Dahlia needs to be protected.”

  I was quiet for a long moment as all this information sank in. That woman had scared the shit out of me but I’d fight with my last breath to protect them if she came for us. I was pretty sure that’s what scared Patrick too.

  “Okay. I’ll need protection,” I said, accepting the situation for what it was. I knew I wasn’t talking him out of it so why argue.

  Patrick couldn’t hide the wide-eyed surprised expression as he leaned back in his office chair and tented his long fingers at his full lips.

  I smiled at him, all innocence and sugarplums, but my heart was thundering in my chest. I didn’t like being babysat but I also couldn’t get around it. I fisted my hands at my sides, digging my nails into the flesh of my palms. Pain. Pain might actually keep me from snarling at the lot of them.

  Hearty laughter from behind me filled the large room, a rambunctious sound that crackled around the edges like a vinyl record under the needle of an old record player. I turned. Dean, the Pack’s Gaoh, had a bright smile on his face and his warm olive-green eyes twinkled with mirth.

  What’s so damned funny?

  “Is something amusing, Dean?” Patrick asked in a chiding, annoyed tone. He sat behind his desk the picture of cool with the exception of his ramrod straight posture and the tight clench of his jaw.

  “You said she was unpredictable,” Dean huffed through strangled laughter. I watched as Patrick bristled against Dean’s laughter but didn’t seem angry by the remark.

  Patrick had needed my help to save the Pack’s Gaoh when Ethan had planned to murder him and take over the city. That’s how Patrick and I had met. I wasn’t sure Dean knew how close he’d come to the end or that I’d had a hand in saving him.

  “Anyway,” I said, overly dramatic. “Let’s talk about what the set up’ll be and when this meeting will take place.”

  That’s me, straight to the business. Yeah, right. I was so angry, my toes curled in my boots. They were just lucky I hadn’t shot anyone yet. It could still happen. The night was young yet.

  “Well,” Alex said.

  “Kurt and Jackson can take the day shifts.” She nodded at Kurt, ignoring Jackson as if he didn’t even exist. The two werewolves clustered around Dean, flanking him on either side.

  “And Nova and Alex wi
ll take the night shifts,” Patrick finished in a cold, clear tone. “And as for the meeting . . .” He paused. “You, my dear, are not going.” I didn’t argue. That was a conversation for later when we were alone. When I could yell at him and not feel guilty about it. See, I was learning and could be a grown-up, most of the time.

  The Gaoh’s eyes bore into me as if he wanted to see what my insides looked like. My stomach fluttered under his olive-green gaze. I didn’t like the uneasy feeling I had in his presence or how he evaluated me at every turn.

  Patrick glared around the room and finally fixed his gaze on the Gaoh whose attention was focused too intently on me.

  “Are we in agreement?” Patrick asked as he curled his lip up in a small snarl.

  What the hell was that all about?

  “Agreed,” Dean answered, shifting his gaze from me.

  As everyone filed out, I leaned up against the wall and waited. Dean and Danny moved up closer, taking seats on the black velvet sofa to the left of Patrick’s desk.

  The door closed behind me and a weight lifted from my shoulders. There had been too many people I didn’t trust in that room. Too many I didn’t know. Thinning out the crowd made me feel just a little bit better.

  “What are you holding back?” Patrick asked.

  I plopped down hard on the sofa opposite Dean and Danny, flinging all my weight down on the cushions. Danny and the Gaoh whispered amongst themselves as I collected my thoughts. I had to answer Patrick’s question but a cold chill ran up my spine at the thought of her in my head. In the blink of an eye, I was back in that hall, the soft glow of candlelight, the smell of rotten flowers, tallow and blood filled my nose as fear bubbled in the pit of my stomach.

  “I had a dream.” I leaned back against the couch, crossing my arms over my chest. Alex picked at her nails as if she was bored and none of it mattered. Dean and Danny, on the opposite sofa, continued their conversation with little regard for what I had to say. “That smell,” I said, looking up at the ceiling as I spoke. It was easier if I didn’t look at them, maybe then they wouldn’t notice how scared I actually was. “It was in my dream.”

  Patrick’s entire posture froze, back rigid, jaw tight and eyes fixed on me. Alex’s eyes lifted from her nails to meet mine. She didn’t stop picking. Her slight upward gaze was the only indication that I’d said something important. She was always cool and not prone to overreaction, especially where I was concerned, unlike Patrick. I valued that more than she knew. It helped me keep my cool when everyone else around me was freaking the fuck out.

  “What else?” Patrick asked.

  “I was in a large hall with jewel-toned drapes covering the walls, a frescoed ceiling, and a checker patterned floor.” I didn’t want to relive it. “I stood in front of a petite Asian woman dressed in one of those outfits that are like a karate gue but not.”

  Patrick rose and came around his desk. He stood beside the sofa I sat on, peering down at me. His face was blank but his broad shoulders were tight and the pulse along his jaw jumped in quick time with my heart. Concern rippled off of him in sharp bursts, caressing my skin like a chilly winter wind.

  “A tiger, larger than normal. He came up to about here,” I said, sliding my hand against my bicep. “He walked from behind somewhere, I don’t know where. It stepped up beside her and sat down. And here’s where it gets weird,” I said, as if it wasn’t weird enough already. Patrick and Alex eyed each other. They looked worried. “There was a werewolf beside me, a huge one.” Both Patrick and Alex’s gazes shot up, focusing on me in surprise.

  Danny smiled as if he had finally caught the animal he’d chased through the woods. The Gaoh’s eyes were blank but I didn’t trust it. He watched me too closely, scrutinized me too thoroughly. I could feel his gaze rake over me like hot coals but I couldn’t read him and that made me nervous. I wanted to know what was going through his head, what wheels were turning behind those intelligent eyes.

  “It wasn’t you,” I said matter-of-factly, bursting Danny’s bubble.

  The smile faded from his face and his mood changed, becoming cloudy and morose again. I seemed to constantly disappoint him and I didn’t know how to stop. Dean tilted his gaze to the floor between his feet and his eyes closed. He didn’t look happy.

  “Did she say anything to you?” Alex asked, still picking at her fingernails.

  “Not a lot. Just the usual, you know, I’ll kill you, blah blah blah, that kinda nonsense. Then, she disappeared into a weird blue smoke and I woke up.” I tried to make light of it, like it didn’t bother me. I was a badass, after all. I had to keep up appearances, even if it did scare the shit out of me.

  “Middonaitoshoo Asshu,” Patrick whispered the name like a swear word as he stared off beyond us into a distance and through the walls.

  “Gesundheit,” Danny said, rolling his eyes and chuckling at his own joke. He was the only one amused.

  The Gaoh sat silent, watching everyone’s reactions. Watching me. Waiting.

  “Shut up, you stupid mutt,” Alex snapped and hopped off the desk, catching all our attention. She strutted over to him with malice and fear in her gait. She turned on her heels and glanced up at Patrick. “Do you really think so?” She sounded frightened, like a little girl, as she sat down next to me. I’d never heard that tone in her voice and it scared me more than anything else as her confidence melted away.

  Patrick nodded.

  “Explain.” Dean’s voice and tone were firm, an order in a room filled with beings that didn’t answer to him. He didn’t seem to care, watching Patrick with a blank expression as he waited. His eyes darted to me and away too quick for anyone else to notice.

  “Middonaitoshoo Asshu, the woman Dahlia saw in her dream is Midnight Ash,” Alex answered, putting her hand on top of mine in a comforting gesture that made my pulse race with terror. What the hell is going on? Alex never touched me. She wasn’t the touchy feely type.

  “So, she’s Midnight Ash. What’s that mean?” I asked.

  “Tell her,” Patrick commanded. The fierce tone in his voice sent shivers up my spine and warmth through my lower body, tightening it into hot knots of need.

  “Midnight Ash is not just an assassin, she’s a ninja. THE ninja, actually. She’s the only woman the Takeda Daimyo’s ever chosen to lead them. Dahlia, you of all people know how ruthless she must be for a group of men more than five hundred years old to choose her to lead them,” Alex said.

  I did. That was the problem. I understood all too well what it took to be accepted in a man’s world, especially a male world with ideals straight from the Dark Ages. The preternatural world was more dangerous. All they understood was death, violence, and blood. Only the strongest survived. No, that wasn’t right, only the most brutal survived. There was no avoiding the pain to come, no way to distance me from them as Patrick had hoped.

  I was fucked.

  Chapter 5

  I sat on my couch, trying very hard to relax after work, already annoyed. I’d only been home thirty damned minutes.

  I’d had round-the-clock surveillance for two whole days. They were not moving about my house like they weren’t there. Men are messy, inconsiderate, and a downright nuisances. I lost track of how many times I’d fallen into the toilet. Someone, not me, had left the seat up. I’d picked up a small army’s worth of food wrappers, plus they’d dirtied all my dishes and refused to run the dishwasher.

  On top of everything else, Jackson was an asshole. Not very diplomatic but there it was. I wanted to punch that smirk off his face every time I saw him. He lounged on my couch with his hand on his crotch, scratching, as he leered at me. He curled his lip in an expression he probably intended to be seductive but my stomach churned. It didn’t matter how many disgusted, repulsed, or downright repugnant looks I gave him either. He believed that I and every other woman on the planet couldn’
t resist his animal magnetism.

  It wasn’t that hard to resist.

  Kurt tensed in the doorway between the dining room and the living room with a Chinese takeout box and a pair of chopsticks frozen in his hands. A piece of General Tso’s chicken suspended halfway to his lips. He dropped the take-out box and the General Tso’s on the floor, splattering a sticky brown mess all over my hardwood. Perfect, something else to clean up.

  Kurt stalked into the living room, growling as his eyes narrowed on the front door. Jackson, who was paying more attention to his crotch than his responsibilities on guard duty, finally noticed Kurt’s reaction. He jumped to his feet and shoved Kurt out of the way with one brutal hand to the shoulder. Kurt’s bulky body slammed into my built-in bookcases, shaking the volumes on the shelves and dislodging my order as a book jumped from the shelf. I breathed deep, centering myself. Jackson had to be first. Like I said . . . asshole.

  I peeked out the front picture window and rolled my eyes. Jade’s Grand Turismo Maseratti was parked on the street in front of the house. I strolled over to Kurt and gripped his forearm with a quick shake of my head. “Easy, boy,” I grumbled.

  He nodded and relaxed. He shouldn’t trust me, not yet anyway. But he stood down like a good little soldier.

  Jackson growled at the door, a soft rumble in the back of his throat. It sounded more like a purr but I wasn’t about to call him out. I didn’t want to deal with the shit storm that would invariably come with it. I kept my mouth shut.

  I jerked the door open. Jade stood on the other side, her knuckles raised and a surprised look widening her soft green eyes.

  “You have to stop doing stuff like that,” she huffed with sarcasm thick in tone. She breezed by me, over the threshold and into the house. “It’s weird.” Her footsteps stopped abruptly just inside the door behind me. Jade had her own sixth sense. She could spot an unattached male at twenty paces. I closed the door with a heavy breath and pressed my forehead to the oak. The door was cool, the winter wind seeping into the pores of the grain. She hadn’t met my new friends yet. Yippee!