Touch of Evil

by C. T. Adams

  Wow! That was the last section of town where I would have looked for them. I knew the place he referred to, but couldn’t remember the name. It was something like Nancy’s Pleasure Castle. . . . It’s a twenty-four-hour triple X arcade and book store, with attached lounge and theater. It covers about a full city block. I’d heard there were some sleeping rooms above the lounge, but never had the nerve to go look. I was afraid I would catch something really icky.

  I saw movement and felt a touch on my hair. In my somewhat paranoid state, I immediately lashed out to strike. But Dylan was quicker. He grabbed my wrist in a blur. My heart lurched in my chest as I realized how he’d managed his “miraculous” change.

  I looked into those sapphire eyes and croaked, “Why? For God’s sake, Dylan—how could you? I can’t believe you’d let one of those things . . .” I couldn’t believe he’d actually taken that last step and become a Thrall Host.

  He smiled sadly. “It’s not what you think, Katie. Vickie isn’t like Monica. But I couldn’t fight Monica’s influence without help.”

  “But you’ll die.” I felt tears well up and hated it: hated that he could still move me to tears.

  He reached out and touched my hair, stroking a gentle finger down my face to push away an errant strand. “I’d forgotten how beautiful your hair is.”

  I frowned and pulled at my arm, but he wouldn’t release it. “Don’t change the subject, Dylan.”

  An amused hint of a smile curled one side of his mouth. “I’m not changing the subject, Katydid.”

  The familiar endearment cut through me like a knife, but I couldn’t seem to get any words out of my mouth.

  “I don’t want Monica to have Dusty, and I don’t want her to have you. I want you alive, and happy and with me for the rest of my life. I’ve been checking around. Vickie treats her people right. One of her Hosts is still healthy after twelve years.”

  His words were a buzz in my head. Even with him touching me, I couldn’t feel the Thrall Host inside him. “With you?” I finally blurted. “That’s insane. What are you talking about?”

  He gently traced a warm line down my jaw and I felt my body react. His face grew serious. “Just what I said. I was a fool, Katie. I’ve regretted what I did every waking moment for the past two years. I’ve never loved Amanda like I loved you. I hurt you, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am. But I want to make it up to you.” He suddenly looked lost. “I . . . I mean . . . oh, hell!”

  He moved forward like liquid and pressed his mouth to mine. His hand reached behind my head and pulled me tight against him. His tongue slid in between my lips before I could breathe. Then I was lost in the feel of his jaw moving against mine, lost in the sweet, familiar taste of the man I used to love. The careful shell that I’d constructed around my heart was cracking. He held my wrist tight in his and I could feel a fine trembling running through strong new muscles. My other hand was trapped against his rock-hard chest.

  But I was terrified that if I searched with my tongue, I’d find fangs behind his teeth. I tried to pull away, but the fingers sliding through my hair held me like steel. The kiss was hungry, needy, and part of me was reminded of nights long ago filled with cries and moans on cool sheets. The beginnings of a beard scratched my chin as his kiss deepened. When he moaned, my breathing grew ragged and he tore feelings from me that I’d thought were gone. But just when I was about to give in to my own need and free my arm to clutch at him, I remembered the truth. He wasn’t mine anymore. He could never be mine. And I wanted someone else now.

  I pushed and pulled at the same time, separating us. “Stop it, Dylan.” He let me go and I moved back even further, clutching the photographs like a lifeline to the present. “Don’t make me think that there’s a chance for us again. I can’t believe you. I don’t trust you. I’ll find Dusty, but please—go back to your wife and stay there.”

  He met my eyes and stared long enough with darkness in his gaze that I shivered. “No, Katie. I’ll go, but not back to my wife. I have to leave until Monica is gone.” He pushed himself to his knees and then got to his feet as though raised on strings. It was unnerving. He turned started to walk out of the shop, but then turned his head and looked down at me, still huddled on the floor. “But I’ll be back, Katydid. I won’t let you get away a second time.”

  I couldn’t think what to say to that. My jaw just kept working silently long after he walked out the door. It took a few more moments for me to collect myself enough to get to my feet. I stood in the shop for a minute longer. If he was going into hiding, it was better that we not be seen together. But the fact that I still cared enough to wait scared the be-jeebers out of me. It wasn’t fair to Tom, or to me. I looked again at the pictures. Of course, none of this was fair to Dusty. Not at all. I put the pictures in the back pocket of my jeans.

  Why was Dylan hiding and whose side was he on? From what he said Vickie must be a different queen—but from where, and what was she doing here? I had too many questions, and not nearly enough answers.

  I kept worrying at the problem, trying to make sense of the conflicting information I’d uncovered. One thing was certain, if Monica’s Host was reaching the end of its life she’d be desperate—and even more dangerous than usual. I shuddered at the thought. I’d be safer if I went to ground, but then I’d be abandoning Dusty. I barely knew the kid, but I couldn’t do that. Not when I knew what Monica had in store for her. I’d have to be very, very careful if I wanted to survive the next couple of days. The good news was, if I did, I’d never have to worry about Monica again.

  I was alert to the point of paranoia as I exited the store and started walking down the mall again. It was mid-morning, and the street was a hive of activity. I lowered my shields and tried to concentrate on finding Morris and the other Hosts. I couldn’t find them, but I knew they were there. More important, I could sense an argument was in progress.

  I will have my revenge!

  No. She is too strong. She is Not Prey.

  “Got a cigarette?” The voice from the alley startled me so much I jumped a good foot. My concentration broke, and the Thrall had thrown up shields of their own. I could no longer hear the argument, but it was interesting to know that the rest of the hive wasn’t behind Monica.

  “Don’t smoke.” I answered.

  There were three of them, a boy and two girls. None of them looked older than sixteen but they had a the hard look of kids that have been on the street for a while. One of the girls had spoken. She was tall, only an inch or so shorter than me, and still pudgy with what my aunt had always referred to as “baby fat.” The spiked purple hair added a couple of inches and made her skin look even paler under the goth make-up. There were dark circles under her red-rimmed grey eyes. She’d been crying. I felt a twinge of unwanted sympathy. It usually takes one hell of a lot to break through the tough shells street kids develop. Whatever it was, it had to have been bad.

  The boy was about 6’2”, rangy, with long arms and legs and oversized hands and feet. His eyes were dark brown, his body language cautious and unfriendly. His hair was shaggy but clean, straight and shiny—a brown so dark it was not quite black. His forearms were covered by thick hair of the same color.

  The second girl had hair bleached almost white, with wide black stripes like a zebra. She had striking ice-blue eyes that were set off by wide black eyeliner. Her black nylon halter top barely covered breasts that overpowered her small frame and seemed almost too large to be real. A good wind would probably overbalance her. Her jeans were hip-huggers that were barely decent, even by street standards. A tattoo peeked out from the top of the jeans. It looked like the tip of a wing but not enough showed for me to be sure. Neither of the girls had the facial structure to be Becky, a.k.a. Dusty.

  I forced myself to smile. It wasn’t easy. I didn’t want to talk to these kids. I wanted to get the hell back to my apartment and get some protection. But I’d told Dylan I’d try to find Dusty and these were just the type of kids who might know something. If I
didn’t talk to them now, I’d probably never get another chance.

  “Bummer.” The purple-haired girl gave an exaggerated sigh. “Don’t suppose you have a couple of bucks?”

  “Hungry?”

  She shrugged, admitting reality. She was stressed. “A little.”

  “If you’re willing to answer a couple of questions, I’ll buy you some burgers.” I gestured to include the three of them. I didn’t want any misunderstanding. I only wanted information, not sex. One on one might be construed as a come-on.

  The boy pulled himself away from the building he’d been leaning on in a smooth, liquid movement. I’d expected him to be awkward. He wasn’t. It caught my attention, roused a memory. Suddenly I knew. He was a wolf. If he was a member of the local pack he probably knew Tom. I didn’t know where Tom fit in the structure but from what I understood from the grapevine, the group wasn’t that big. Most of them didn’t advertise what they were.

  I locked glances with him for a long moment. He tilted his head back in a practiced gesture that looked like flipping his hair from his eyes. Nostrils flared as he took the long sniff that was a dead giveaway. I wondered if he smelled Tom on my hair. I’d showered, but I hadn’t shampooed. If he did smell Torn, would it be a good thing, or bad? I didn’t know. Or did he smell Dylan and the stolen kiss?

  The three of them exchanged glances. At an almost imperceptible nod from the boy the blonde spoke. “Sure, why not.” She held out her hand, “I’m Ruby. This,” she gestured to the other girl, “is Jade. That,” she gestured to the boy, “is Jake. He’s a wolf.” Her voice dropped when she said it—as though I should be frightened, or impressed. I just nodded, which earned me a small frown from Ruby and a nod of acknowledgment from Jake.

  I gestured for them to precede me. Jade and Ruby moved on ahead but Jake fell in beside me. His eyes were constantly moving. He wasn’t nervous; just alert. I knew he was aware of everything going on around us. I didn’t think he’d noticed one thing that I had, however. Ruby’s walk was a studied sexual strut, but Jade was walking with great care, as though each movement was painful. It wasn’t exactly a limp but it was obviously awkward.

  They led me a couple of blocks up the mall to a corner where one of the chain burger joints took advantage of both the mall and a major cross street. Jake played the gentleman, holding open the door for the three of us girls.

  The chill of the air conditioning hit me like a welcomed slap in the face. I was dressed too warm for the day and was nervous enough to be sweating buckets. I didn’t want to take off the coat but unbent enough to open my jacket. When I unzipped it, the cold air hit the wet silk and I gave an involuntary shiver.

  There weren’t many patrons scattered at the shiny plastic tables. The old bums sipping coffee eyed us warily. A couple of suits in the corner stared openly at Ruby’s impressive figure. She ignored them completely and held her hand out to me palm-upward. I pulled another twenty from my wallet. She snatched it from my hand and made a beeline for the counter.

  “Order for me, will you?” Jade called to her friend. “I need to go to the john.”

  “No problem.” Ruby answered.

  I started to follow Ruby but a firm grip on my left arm stopped me. Jake was holding me back to get in a private word.

  “I’ve heard about you, Reilly. I can’t believe you’d work for that man!”

  I guessed he was talking about Matt Quinn. I knew that word on the street got around quick but this was just plain impressive.

  “I’m working for her uncle, not the stepfather. He’s worried that the girl’s gotten in over her head and he wants me to keep her safe. What can I say?”

  Jake uttered a short burst of sound that was close to a bark and then lowered his voice to a hiss. “Oh yeah, right. The guy’s trying to sell his nearest and dearest to the Thrall. You go looking for her and you’ll lead them right to her. That kind of help she don’t need!”

  So, I’d guessed right. Dusty was the girl in line to be queen.

  Jake shook his head angrily. “Dusty found out some things she shouldn’t about her stepdad. He’s a bad man, Reilly. She knew what would happen if he got hold of her, so she bolted. When he couldn’t find her, he offered her up to the vamps—and hired you. You’re being used. And I’m telling you now, you’ll have your ass in a wringer if you find her and deliver her up to either the dad or the bloodsuckers!”

  “I hadn’t intended to give her up, Jake.”

  “Yeah, right. And that’s why your jacket and hair smells like two different Thrall hives. Don’t bullshit me, Reilly.”

  I flinched a little. Guilt will do that. “Sometimes there just aren’t any right answers to the questions being asked. I’m not working for anyone except Dusty’s uncle.”

  Jake’s kept a wary look and a low growl hissed through his lips. “I won’t let you find her. She’s in danger, so know this—I’ll kill you or anyone else hunting her before I let them take her.”

  “Her uncle said he was worried, and wanted her safe.” I kept my voice calm and soothing, but it had no effect. There was no reason for Jake to believe me. In his place, I wouldn’t believe me. Great. Now I had new people to watch my back from. Jesus, Dylan. Did you have any idea what you were throwing me in the middle of? I shook my head again. Of course he had. Otherwise he wouldn’t have risked Monica’s wrath to bring me the pictures. But then the questions started again.

  No. Dylan believed I could save Dusty and myself. He as much said so. Wished I could be so sure.

  Jake’s arm was still on my sleeve. I shook it off.

  “A bit of advice,” I hissed. Ruby was near the front of the line, and Jade was limping her way back from the hall that led to the bathrooms. “Dusty’s going to need protection from people who won’t be bought and can’t be bit.”

  “We’ve taken care of that.” Jake spoke with confidence.

  “Really? I don’t think so.” I inclined my head in the direction of Jade. Jake turned, his eyes widening as he saw what I had. There was a small spot of blood spreading through the jeans on her left upper thigh. Right where a vampire would’ve munched. She wasn’t a Host. He’d have been able to smell that. But she’d been bitten and was Herd.

  A low, menacing growl, deeper than the one he’d given me, left his lips and he started to swear.

  Maybe she heard him. Maybe she sensed our attention but she turned toward the two of us. She looked directly into my eyes and smirked. I had a flash of intuition. There weren’t just bathrooms in that hall. There were telephones. The Herd can’t talk telepathically—they can only receive their instructions from the queen that way.

  Jake saw it too. “Shit! Go.” He practically shoved me toward the door behind us. “Hurry.”

  Jade’s smirk turned to panic as I casually moved toward the exit. No running; no tales to tell Monica. From the corner of my eye I saw her half-run towards us but Jake was blocking her path. I heard her cry of protest just before the door closed behind me.

  I sensed Hosts in my vicinity. They felt like the ones from Morris’s office. Glancing about quickly I saw that there were four of them. The two from the stairwell had been joined by friends. I shut down the brain again and tried to think typical mall-crawler thoughts to confuse them with one part of my brain while I tried to plan with the other.

  I suppose it was flattering that they thought it would take four of them to nab one measly human. But I wasn’t flattered; I was scared. They were converging on the restaurant from the 16th Street mall. I didn’t stop to think. I turned onto the cross street and walked the few feet past the storefront before ducking into the alleyway between the restaurant and an art supply shop.

  The alley was narrow and straight as an arrow. I could see a trucker unloading racks of clothing into the back of a building about halfway down the block. Other than that, it was deserted.

  I needed to hurry. When the vamps found out Jade had failed to keep me at the restaurant, they’d come looking. I needed to get out of here. Fast. />
  I hate it in movies when the hero runs up a staircase. There is, after all, only so far up you can go. Then you’re trapped. But the fire escape was my first thought. If I was lucky they wouldn’t think of it. If I wasn’t, then at least I might have a bit of a head start before they found me. Unfortunately the rusted fire escape on the nearest building hung too high on the wall to help me. After all, they want tenants to get down, not potential burglars to get up. Although I could probably reach it, I was not going to waste time trying to jump to grab it when I wasn’t sure my shoulder would hold.

  I felt rather than saw something coming at me from a recessed doorway to my left. I ducked, so the first blow missed. Training took over. Without even thinking about it, I stepped backwards into the attacker’s body, bringing my right elbow back in a sharp blow to the diaphragm that forced the air from his lungs in a whoosh and bent him nearly double. I stepped forward slightly and then put my whole body into a backward blow that rammed the same elbow into his bent-over chest. A third blow smashed into his face in a quick one-two. My fingers started to go numb from the shock of the three blows. I heard the sharp crack of bone breaking as his fangs snapped off from the strength of the impact.

  I bounced out of reach but he didn’t keep coming. Breaking the two secondary ganglia had thrown the Thrall in his head into shock—leaving the human Host helpless. I owed Dr. MacDougal another bottle of scotch. I’d only have seconds before the others closed in on me. I needed out of here now.

  I was out of time. I could sense it, hear the frustrated fury of the nearby vampires as a hiss in my head. I ran down the alley. Shoving the trucker inside the building, I dived through the doorway. I slammed the heavy steel fire door shut and threw home the bolt.

  “HEY!”

  I ignored the trucker’s protest, looking around for something to brace the door. There wasn’t much. I was in the receiving end of a sports clothing store. There were racks of clothes but not much else.