Midnight Ash (A Blushing Death Novel)

by Sabol, Suzanne M.

  “Miss, what are you doing here?” he bit out.

  The ginger tech closed the laptop, tucked it under his arm, and walked away before I could ask him any more questions. And I had a few. He managed a confused glance over his shoulder at me before drifting out of sight and around the coroner’s van.

  I shifted my attention to the two uniform problems standing before me like Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum with itchy trigger fingers. They had nothing on me, yet. And they wouldn’t, if I could keep my cool.

  “I gave my statement and was asked to wait,” I answered. “Mrs. Corning was a nice woman. Why did this have to happen?” I added, false panic making my voice quaver as a tear left a hot trail down my cheek.

  I had to focus. Hell, might as well confess and get some sympathy out of it. “Then I stumbled over here and saw those horrible pictures.” I sniffled a little for effect. My act was working on one of the uniforms, at least. His eyes softened and his shoulders relaxed as his hand slipped from the holster at his hip. He definitely had a wife or a sister somewhere.

  The other one wasn’t buying it. I needed to get out of there before the smart one started asking questions. Especially questions I couldn’t answer.

  “Can I please go? I didn’t see anything. I don’t know why I was told to wait.”

  “Miss, do you remember who took your statement?” the skeptical officer asked. I wasn’t about to get the only link to the police force I had in trouble. Better to sound flaky.

  “No, I’m sorry. I don’t remember his name.” I wiped the tear from my cheek.

  “You shouldn’t be here, Miss,” the other uniform offered. He took my arm in a gentle grasp and escorted me away. He led me to the perimeter of the crime scene, picked up the yellow tape for me, and smiled reassuringly.

  “Thank you,” I whispered. I turned and strolled back to my house with an easy gait, careful not to run and show just how thankful I was that I had escaped.

  Patrick was waiting on the porch as I approached. He had a wicked grin on his face as he softly clapped his approval. I climbed the three steps to meet him but noticed there was still distance between us and more than just space.

  “Bravo,” he cooed with a smirk tugging at his full lips. He was so stinking cute when he smirked. I smiled back at him and took a little curtsy on the front porch. Of course he’d be watching. He was and always had been watching. I couldn’t help but be a smartass. It’s my nature.

  “Can we go in, I’m freezing,” I said, breezing by him.

  “Dahlia,” he growled and the tone of his voice tightened my chest. “We need to discuss this.”

  “I know,” I breathed, trying to stop the ache in my chest that almost crippled me. I met the dark intensity of his eyes and saw the hurt shining there and the disappointment. I opened my front door and left the hurt behind. There wasn’t time for pain and betrayal. Maybe later.

  Jade, Kurt, Nova, and Danny were already waiting in my living room. My full house seemed to get smaller and smaller by the day. It was bad enough that six people were in my living room but worse that four of those people were larger-than-life supernatural beings and took up more space than their actual bodies. Two of whom had a gripe with each other. Perfect.

  Aggression tingled through the air, static and tangible. I could almost taste the negative energy as I gasped at the tingle of their power along my skin. The energy clashed, warm into cool, making the hair on my body stand on end in static. Violence percolated just under the surface as Patrick and Danny shared the same space.

  “Someone should probably order a pizza or something. I don’t think I have enough food for everyone,” I spat. Anything to distract the crowd from the growing tension in the room. I removed my coat and scarf and hung them in the closet, distracted, as I glanced over my shoulder at them.

  “You don’t. I ate the last of the pasta this afternoon,” Danny said, plopping down on my sofa and picking up the remote, throwing his comfort level up in Patrick’s face.

  Jackass. I didn’t need this bullshit.

  I shot Jade an imploring glare, hoping she could help. She whipped out her cell phone and dialed the local pizzeria, turning her back on us with a look on her face that said, You are on your own.

  Great, just fucking great.

  She strolled into the kitchen, Kurt hot on her heels.

  “Yeah, I’m gonna need six large pizzas and a couple of two-liter Cokes.” Her voice drifted off as she moved farther away.

  “Get mushrooms,” Danny yelled after her. Sometimes he didn’t know what was good for him. Right now, he needed to sit there and shut the fuck up.

  “What did you find out?” Patrick asked with a soft growl, making his usually smooth voice rough and dangerous.

  I brushed my hand against Patrick’s, squeezing his fingers as I brushed by him. I felt as if I needed to reassure him, to remind him how important he was to me.

  Danny growled low in the back of his throat, throwing the remote he held in his hand straight at Patrick’s head. I knew in that moment that I’d fucked up in so many ways. The remote became a blur of black as it sailed through the air, whistling as it passed my head, missing by inches.

  Patrick snatched the remote from the air only milliseconds before it would have crashed into his perfect, angular nose. He’d used as much effort to swat the remote away as I would a fly. Patrick lowered his hand, tension filling his lithe frame as his shoulders squared for a fight. A low rumble vibrated in his chest that made the hairs on the nape of my neck tingle with the beginnings of something horrible.

  “Enough!” I snapped as I stepped between them. My jaw clenched and my hands balled into tight fists at my side. The sound of my voice came from deep in my diaphragm, vibrating a power that I didn’t know I’d had. Even to me it sounded like it’d come from the shadows of hell. Both men’s eyes focused on me in alarm . . . confusion . . . disbelief. I couldn’t tell which and I didn’t care.

  I breathed deep and closed my eyes. “I need you to stop,” I said with a forced calm that I didn’t feel as I opened my eyes again. “We have to come to some understanding here. All three of us. If one of you or both of you can’t handle this situation, don’t want to share, and want to go . . . then go. Now’s the time. Now is the time,” I repeated, my voice harsh and unwelcome. I’d fucked up. I knew that. I should have just ended it with Danny months ago but something kept drawing me back. Now, the entire situation was a clusterfuck and it was all my fault.

  I needed both of them so much that it scared me but I also needed them with a clear head. I was worried, tired, but mostly I had a sneaking suspicion I wasn’t going to make it through this one. I didn’t want to fight with them, not when there was so little time left.

  “We should discuss what you found out this evening,” Patrick said, changing the subject with a quick nod of acceptance and resignation.

  I nodded, releasing the heavy breath I’d been holding with relief. I could do this. I could go on like nothing happened and we were all hunky dory, right? Yeah, I could do that. I pulled myself together and retreated into myself, letting them all see the hard edge that the rest of the world knew as the Blushing Death.

  “There were seven, maybe eight puncture points with barely a drop of blood anywhere. There should’ve been so much more,” I whispered, almost to myself, as I gazed down at the floor. The images were still fresh in my mind and I couldn’t separate the pictures from Mrs. Corning. It was a body, not a person. It was a scattering of limbs and gore, not the sweet old lady down the street.

  “Why?” Danny asked.

  “They drained her first,” I said. “Her head was cut clean off and she had a big gaping hole in her chest like someone reached in and ripped her heart out,” I snapped, frustration making my voice harsher than I’d intended. Danny sat back on the loveseat. His lips disappeared into a thin
line. He didn’t say another word.

  “Her heart?” Patrick asked. He cleared his throat and glanced at me as he cocked a dark eyebrow. “Middonaitoshoo Asshu takes her victim’s hearts as a trophy.”

  I couldn’t imagine her taking a heart every time she fed. Her lair, apartment, or whatever hole she lived in would be covered in human hearts in little Ziploc bags, piled to the ceiling like little squishy pillows.

  “She takes only the hearts of those she’s personally hired to assassinate.” His eyes focused hard on me as if trying to look through to my soul. “I believe Mrs. Corning’s death, however, would be very important to her as a message to us.”

  “So, what do we do?” Danny asked. It was the first real contribution he’d made all night. I looked to Patrick for that answer. Quite frankly, I was fresh out of ideas.

  “I want to talk to the board and see if I can stop this before anything worse happens,” Patrick hissed under his breath.

  “How are we supposed to do that?” I asked, a little frustrated and on edge. All I wanted to know was how to stay alive and who to kill.

  “We’re going to my office. Now!” Patrick grabbed my hand and headed for the kitchen.

  “Danny,” I called behind me as Patrick dragged me through my house. “Get some wolves that don’t mind being exposed. I’m bringing Derek in.” It wasn’t a question and he didn’t argue.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

  “He’ll be at Damsel at eight-thirty . . . Be ready,” I ordered.

  He pulled out his phone and started dialing. Patrick, Nova, and I drove to Damsel while Danny, Kurt, and Jade followed in the SUV.

  Inside of ten minutes, Patrick, Danny, and I entered the upstairs office at Damsel. Alex had appeared from the shadows and followed us in. She closed the door behind her.

  “Should Dean be here?” Patrick asked Danny.

  “There’s no time,” he said. He stood straight and tall, his back rigid and his shoulders wide, suddenly confident. Patrick put the phone on ‘speaker’ and hit a speed dial button. The musical tones of numbers echoed against the light thump of bass from the club below. The line rang, filling the office with an ominous silence and the harsh shrill ring of the phone.

  “Lebensblut International, New York Offices. How may I help you?” a woman with an accent that teetered somewhere between German and English sang over the line.

  “Could you put me through to the boardroom, please?” Patrick asked, his voice velvety smooth, confident, and alluring.

  “Who’s calling, please?” she asked, her tone polite but firm.

  “Patrick Cavanaugh from the Northwest Territory,” he cooed at her.

  “One moment, please.”

  The phone clicked over to soft Muzak, Pat Benetar’s “Hit Me with Your Best Shot” hummed over the line. I was getting antsy and my palms were sweating as the Muzak filled the room. How long does it take to relay a damned message?

  “I will transfer you in, Sir. Thank you,” the woman said with a smile in her voice. It sounded too perky and inappropriate considering a vampire ninja was trying to kill me. There was another ring and then silence.

  “Patrick, m’boy. How are you?” a strong, baritone voice boomed, carrying through Patrick’s office like Teddy Roosevelt was on the other end.

  “Sir,” Patrick offered, gracious. “Not as well as I had hoped.”

  “I heard about Ethan,” the man on the other end said in a soft tone filled with remorse. “I’m sorry for your loss, son. I know he cared for you like you were his very own.”

  Patrick’s features seemed hardened somehow, showing no emotion as his eyes emptied at the man’s words.

  He never talked to me about Ethan. Maybe that was his way of putting Ethan behind him but I’d killed the man he’d thought of as a father. I felt guilty that I’d hurt him but not about killing Ethan. He’d been a danger to everyone and needed to die. I didn’t want to remind Patrick of what I’d done, ever.

  “Thank you,” Patrick whispered as he leaned back in his chair. He dropped a metaphysical wall between us like an iron curtain, slamming me out and snapping my synapses in a quick pierce of pain through my mind. Whatever he was feeling, he didn’t want me to know.

  “I was also sorry to hear about Midnight Ash,” the booming man said almost as an afterthought. His voice that had been almost kind now held a warning.

  “Arthur? I called to convince you to call her back,” Patrick’s voice broke, not enough that perhaps Danny noticed or even Arthur but I noticed, as the strain finally started to show. I circled around the desk and ran my hand along his back. His skin was cool under my fingers and the taut muscles in his shoulders relaxed under my touch.

  “I wish I could, but you know once she’s let out of the bag, it’s real hard to put her back in. The Board didn’t contract her,” he snorted over the line, “but don’t think we didn’t talk about it, son. You’re scaring a lot a people. But we have no say in how she fulfills that contract a’ hers.” His tone was low and dangerous.

  My mind cleared and the air in my lungs fluttered out as I breathed in and out letting my anger and fear turn into something else, something deadly.

  “It’s a shame, too, cause I hear you’re doin’ some real good things over there. Those are some of the changes I wanted to make. But you know these old coots. They don’t want to hear about it unless it has a cape or a candelabrum attached to it.” He snuffed his laughter as he spoke.

  I caught a glimpse of Patrick smiling along with him. Patrick liked him.

  “Arthur, you’re almost 500 years old. You’re not fresh from the grave either,” Patrick chided.

  “That’s true enough,” Arthur said with chagrin in his tone. “But compared to some of these guys, I’m still cutting my teeth. They won’t let me forget it either.”

  “Arthur?” I asked, my voice confident and strong.

  Patrick leaned back in his chair and grasped my hand tight in his. His fingers gripped mine like it was the last time.

  The other end of the line remained silent. I took that as my opportunity to get the ball rolling.

  “My name’s Dahlia. I’m . . .” I stopped. What was I? I glanced down at Patrick, hoping for some help. He shrugged and ran his free hand thoughtlessly through his thick black hair.

  “You’re that saucy little human I’ve been hearin’ so much about.” He laughed a hearty guffaw.

  “I am,” I said, leaning against the desk with Patrick’s hand still clutched in mine. I wasn’t sure I was doing it for his comfort or mine. I guess it didn’t matter. “Do you happen to know who contracted Midnight Ash and who her target is?” I asked.

  “No, honey, I sure don’t,” he said with a weight to his voice that made me think whether I said it or not, he got my meaning. She was after me. Not Patrick, not Dean . . . me. “I sure would like to meet ya,” he said with unexpected warmth.

  I imagined that if I said yes, he’d give me a hearty yeehaa.

  “Let’s say her contract is for two people. What happens if only half the contract is fulfilled?” I asked, my wording very careful. The longer this went on, the more I thought that getting me out of the way was the main priority and Patrick was secondary. No one else caught her scent, or was seeing her in their dreams. It could just mean that my sensitivities were getting stronger but my gut told me she was focused on me for a reason. Not the vampire colony. Not Patrick. I wasn’t about to leave it to chance, though, in the event that her contract was for both of us.

  “Well, honey, you do ask the tough questions, don’t ya?” he said. A heavy clunk on hard wood and then a second thunk resonated on the other end. I imagined him putting his big feet up on the desk with two quick thunks of boots on wood.

  Patrick didn’t want to think about either of us dying, but I was more pragmatic.
The fact that I might die wasn’t only a possibility, it was a probability. I was human and everyone standing around me wasn’t. My mission from here on out was to cover my bases and make sure those I loved were safe. That was all I could do.

  “I want your word, Arthur, that if the contract is fulfilled in any part, additional grievances will be negotiated to the acceptance of both parties and no other assassins will be dispatched,” I commanded. I didn’t dare leave room to negotiate.

  “I’d love to, honey, but like I said, we didn’t contract her,” he said, like a proper politician. He had almost 500 years to practice evasion tactics but I was persistent.

  “I understand. I want your word that you will require negotiation from any party with a grievance toward Patrick, this vampire colony, or any of his territories,” I said, closing any loopholes that I could think of.

  “You’re talking about protection. Protection from the board itself or any of its members,” he said with a smile in his voice. “You’ve got a smart one there, Patrick.”

  Arthur was quiet on the other end of the phone for a long, agonizing moment before he answered. “You got yourself a deal, little lady,” he said with an entertained laugh. “God almighty, I hope she doesn’t kill ya. I’d love to meet ya,” he said.

  “Thank you,” I breathed as a weight lifted from my body. Patrick and the rest would have protection as best as I could provide.

  “Good luck, m’boy,” Arthur said with a twinge of uncertainty. The receiver clicked over to a long flat dial tone and the room exploded into tension.

  “What was that all about, Dahl?” Danny snarled. He uncrossed his arms and stood, an imposing figure rippling the heat of his anger and intimidation through the chill of Patrick’s office until it was almost something I could touch. Danny strode into the middle of the room with purpose in each step. He’d gained a measure of confidence since this afternoon and a swagger that hadn’t been there before.