Everdark tdic-2

by Elle Jasper

  “Later, Vick,” I said. “I’m impressed.”

  “Aren’t you going to stop me?” he pressed.

  I laughed. “No. Get out of here—wherever here is.”

  “It’s wherever you want it to be....

  The week passed—flew by actually. We worked well as a newling/vamp/quickening victim recovery team. We hit every seedy club after hours we could find and rounded up at least a dozen and a half newlings and almost-newlings. Only two were destroyed, but it was unavoidable. They were freaking everywhere, and not all were being ruled by the monster. I call him the monster, even though I know he was a newly manifested Valerian. We still haven’t tracked him, but we will. He’s here. We all feel it.

  We hit the fight club on the appointed night. The newlings were looking for me. Why I had impressed them so much, I had no clue. There were some pretty badass chicks in the club; none with the same DNA as me, I guess, and that made a difference. I quickly rose to the top as a club favorite. Seth hated it. Eli hated it. Noah and Luc loved it. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were taking bets on the side. Phin and Zetty were unreadable. I’d be in the ring, fighting a guy, a girl—didn’t matter. My gaze would scan, catch either of theirs, and I’d see pride mixed with a hooded scolding look that nearly cracked me up.

  Zetty—now that was a fighter right there. I’m pretty sure his unique tats across his forehead and his sheer size made him a ringside favorite, just like mine did. He was a silent fighter, though. His expression hardly changed at all, even when some crazy ass high on crack would slug him in the jaw. I swear, he was probably exactly the same even before he had tendencies. Zet-Man was cool as shit, and I was damn glad he was on our side.

  Eli’s fighting fascinated me. I know, that sounds sick. But he’s, well, a sick fighter. What can I say? Maybe it’s the fact that I know he’s holding back, and using a fuck-load of restraint to do so. The newlings wanted him to fight. They didn’t suspect he was anything other than a cocky mortal, but because of his beauty, I imagine, they wanted him in that ring. I even think they wanted someone to take him out. And I was pretty damn sure they wanted that someone to be me.

  I wasn’t surprised when they had us fight each other.

  They didn’t give us any time to dispute it.

  The crowd roared. Eli frowned.

  I glanced out at the spectators and found Noah. A smile lifted his mouth. Dick .

  Inside my head, I spoke to Eli. “Don’t worry. Land a few on me for show. It won’t hurt too much. But obviously, I have to win. So be ready to hit the floor.” I grinned.

  By the look on Eli’s face, I knew he hated this.

  Not one punch landed on me. His knuckles grazed the air next to my chin, enough to make my head snap back out of reflex. But mine landed. We danced and played for several minutes as if we were killing each other. Then, Eli hit the ground. He stayed. I won.

  The newlings, despite their sunglasses, zeroed in on me. We were to come back for the final rally in two more nights. Meanwhile, we ran the city.

  And I, unfortunately, witnessed three more kills.

  We’d been in Charleston more than a week now, and, after the last run, I hit the bed, exhausted. Eli was always there, attentive, seductive, sexy as hell. He awakened my tired body, making me feel more alive than ever. Just the brush of his lips over my skin aroused me. He was one drug I never wanted rehab from. Finally, spent from mind-blowing sex, I fell into a deep slumber. No dreams awakened me. Even Victorian left me alone.

  When I finally did rise, I was surprised to find it was nearly one p.m. I was also surprised to find Eli gone.

  Deciding he must be out with his brothers, I yawned, content.

  I’d thought mortals with tendencies didn’t require as much sleep as regular Joe Schmoe mortals. Guess I was the exception. I showered; memories of last night with Eli swamped me, and, as corny as it sounds, they made me feel whole. Then, I wrapped a towel around my wet body and wandered out onto the veranda. A large leaf-shaped paddle fan whirred in the breeze above my head, and the long fronds of the Boston ferns swayed in white wicker baskets. I leaned over the balcony as though I weren’t here with a load of vampires hunting evil newling vampires and one sadistic vampire, and I peered at the harbor, the sparkling water of the Atlantic, the palm-lined walk of the battery. For a solid second, I closed my eyes and indulged, pretending to be on a weekend getaway with—

  “Mornin’, sunshine.”

  I jumped and turned to find Noah standing directly behind me. I narrowed my eyes. Only then did I inhale that weird spicy scent of his that kept me from humping his leg. “What are you doing here?”

  Noah laughed, then pushed a stray dread behind his ear. I always had the perception that dreads were gross—stinky clumps of unwashed hair. Noah’s were anything but. They actually smelled good.

  He grinned. “Thank you. I try to take care of myself. And to answer your other question, nothin’, babe. Just chillin’.” He gave my toweled body the once-over—a long once-over. “You got any silver hidden under all that fluff?” he asked, inclining his head toward my oversized white towel. His silver eyes winked in the daylight.

  “Piss me off and find out,” I answered.

  He laughed again. “Always a tough ass, huh?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Turn around.”

  I glanced at him. “What?”

  He rolled his eyes. Yes—the dead-sexy vampire with dreads rolled his freaking eyes. “Oh, dead sexy, yeah?” He chuckled. “I said, turn around. I want to see the dragon on your back.”

  I laughed but dropped my towel a bit in the back and turned around. “Dude, that line is lame. I get twenty requests a day to check out my dragon.” I shook my head. “Vampires, dudes, undead, humans—all the same.”

  Noah’s breath and fingertips brushed my bare back as he inspected—cough cough—my dragon tattoo. “What do you mean?”

  I turned back around and met his mercury gaze. “Weenies! You all think with your weenies!”

  Noah’s eyes softened and held mine. A slight smile lifted the corner of his mouth. He shook his head and turned away. “Like I said”—he glanced back over his shoulder at me—“Eli’s one lucky fuck. It’s too bad he found you first.”

  I lifted a brow.

  His grin spread to full-on, white-teeth-bared brightness. He laughed.

  And then he walked away.

  I stared after him.

  “There’s a sack full of Krystal’s down here,” he called over his shoulder.

  “Yes!” I said happily, flung my towel off, and got dressed. Quickly fishing out a pair of loose green khaki hipsters with a wide leather belt and a burgundy halter, I left my hair down to dry, pulled on a pair of socks and my Vans, and hurried downstairs. Led by my growling stomach, I found the kitchen. By now it was two p.m. Seth sat at the table, chowing down. I glanced around.

  “Where’s Eli?” I asked Phin, who was propped against the counter. I must have had a worried expression on my face.

  “Calm down, Poe,” he said. “He tried to tell you this morning, but you were too sacked out.” He rubbed a hand over his head. “He ran out to Garr’s with Jack and Tuba. There were a few things they needed before tonight.”

  I crammed nearly half the burger into my mouth. Yes, hoggish, but I didn’t care. Hot, squishy greasy bread—heaven. I was starving. “What’s tonight?” I mumbled.

  Noah dropped into the chair beside me and flung an arm over my shoulder. “Well, darlin’, a lot of things,” he said, his mercury eyes all but glowing. “First, a little dirty runnin’. Then, a little bit of Gullah-Gullah.” He grinned. “Hoodoo.”

  I chewed. I only halfway understood.

  I decided I’d know when it came.

  Noah threw back his head and laughed.

  The afternoon passed relatively fast. I dropped a call to Preacher and Estelle. They’d already spoken to Eli and knew of our plans. I promised my surrogate grandparents we’d stay safe and return soon.


  “So,” I said, finally full. I wiped my mouth on a napkin and swigged down several gulps of Coke. “What sort of Gullah-Gullah are we up to tonight?”

  Noah grinned. “You’ll see.”

  By the time the sun began to set, Eli, Jack, and Tuba returned. Eli walked in through the kitchen, spied me, and strode purposefully straight to me. Without missing a beat, he pulled me into his arms, and, despite my Krystal breath, kissed me full-on in front of everyone. Several whistles and yells filled the kitchen; all of which I imagined were everyone’s except Noah’s. When I looked at him, his gaze held mine, and he simply shook his head and mouthed, Lucky fuck . I laughed.

  With Eli’s arms like steel bands around me, I leaned back and looked into his eyes. “What sort of hoodoo are we about tonight?” I asked.

  A slow grin spread across his sexy features. “A little grave robbing is all.”

  I lifted a brow. He laughed. “The only way to end Valerian’s reign is to entomb him again. That’s not going to be easy. But there are things we will need.”

  I nodded, accepting.

  Soon, night fell.

  Everyone except Jack and Tuba left Jake’s on foot and free-ran the city. Oddly enough, we encountered nothing—no vamps, not even a mugging. Even stranger was that I didn’t have a vision of Valerian the monster. I referred to it as a monster now because there were obvious character differences in vampires. At present I was living under the same roof with four, and at night kept company with eight in all. I trusted them all with Seth’s and my life. Even the monster’s own brother, to me, was safe. I fully believed he loved me, and although I didn’t return the sentiment, I did like him. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me despite what Eli and his family thought. And Eli and his kin, Noah and the others? They were Gullahvamps, as I started referring to them; Preacher’s cousin Garr treated Noah and his bunch just as Preacher treated the Duprés. A pact to keep the city safe meant keeping the vampires safe. Not only did their centuries-old traditions of hoodoo magic keep their cravings to a controlled minimum, but it made them . . . more like their true human characters, I believe. Take Noah. I can’t imagine he was much different in life as he is now, as an undead. Crazy fuck. I liked him, though—freaking fine as all double hell, with or without his weird antihump-me powder. He was a helluva free-runner, and an even better fighter—a regular Tyler Durden with dreads if you ask me. I loved having the secret that he was a vamp concealed by some special hoodoo juice. As was the truth about Seth’s and Zetty’s and my tendencies. It was all pretty fantastic if you asked me.

  We finished running the streets, and it was well past two a.m. when we descended the buildings and entered the Circular Church Cemetery in the historic district. Any cemetery, in my book, was creepy at night; the Circular had to top the list as most creepy. A mist had sidled in from the harbor and sifted through the aged trunks of the live oaks, between the marble and slate headstones covered in black decay and draped with moss. Swear to God, it looked like something out of a freaking movie. We closed the front gate behind us and eased deeper into hallowed ground.

  “Why is it you guys can come in here?” I asked.

  Eli glanced at me, his hand tightly holding mine. “What do you mean?”

  “You know. Hallowed ground and all that,” I answered in a whisper.

  He grinned. “We’re not evil spirits, Riley. Besides, Garr fixed the cemeteries here a long, long time ago. Just like Preacher did the ones in Savannah.”

  “Gotcha,” I said.

  We continued on.

  At one particular grave, Luc, who was leading, stopped. Jack and Tuba knelt beside it, murmuring Gullah words I couldn’t understand. With a pocket knife, Jack scraped some of the headstone into a plastic cup with a screw lid; Tuba, with his hands, pulled at some of the sod until he reached dirt. Retrieving a bag from his back pocket, he opened it and sprinkled the contents all around the grave; then dug a few handfuls of dirt, dropping them into a ziplock.

  I was beginning to see the value of a ziplock.

  Moonlight shined down through the canopy of trees and shot darts of illuminated glow throughout the gravestones. Seth elbowed me, and pointed; I followed his finger to a Gothic-y square-sided spire, jutting into the sky.

  “The Unitarian Church of Charleston,” Noah said beside me. “Sort of reminds me of Notre Dame.”

  I had to agree.

  “Whose grave is that?” I asked Noah.

  He glanced down at me. His face grew somber in the moonlight. “Elizabeth Mont Frey. Once, a very beautiful, highly respected woman of Charles Towne.” He glanced at the headstone. “She didn’t make it through her quickening before she was killed. Garr was saved by his daddy,” Noah looked at me. “They were taken at the same time, by the same vampire. You can imagine back then, a Gullah man and a prominent white woman, together.” He sighed. “They were crazy in love, those two. Things haven’t changed all that much, I’m afraid. Anyway, despite her blood being tainted by a vampire, Garr insisted she have a Christian burial. Even in death, her body exudes mystics only Garr knows how to use.” Noah’s eyes bore into mine. “Almost as if she knows his desires, and allows only him to utilize her gifts.”

  I stared into the silver depths of Noah’s gaze. I nodded in understanding.

  We’d only just stepped out of the Circular Cemetery when Eli’s back stiffened. Phin, Luc, Josie, and Noah glanced around, peering through the darkness. Saul, Jenna, Cafrey, and Tate, also on alert, began to move around the rest of us in a circle.

  Then, they descended from the trees above us—six newlings; all punks, all rogues, all ravenous.

  Eli shoved me—hard. “Get down, Riley!” he ground out. I flew several feet away and landed on my backside. I jumped right back up and ran to stand beside the one person I knew would let me fight—Noah.

  Eli growled. It almost made me laugh, how protective he was. Even after seeing me fight, he still wanted me out of the fray. The newlings lunged, Eli swore in French, and the fight began.

  I quickly learned why Eli was so concerned; they all seemed to hone in on me . I’m talking long-jawed, fangs dropped, faces grossly distorted, hideousness. Slobbering and rabid, they all lunged straight for me. Eli grabbed one by the throat and threw him against a tree. His body hit hard, but in a split second he was up, eyes seeking me out.

  It gave me just the time I needed to grasp the blade from my back sheath, aim, and fling it at him. I threw hard. The blade hit its mark and pinned him to the tree.

  He screamed in agony; I ignored him and turned to the others.

  All of my vamps had changed. I tried not to focus on that.

  I found Seth and we stayed back-to-back; Jack, Tuba, and Zetty formed a circle and did the same. Rogue vamps fell from the trees like flies. Where they all came from, I had no clue. I didn’t recognize even one of them from the fight club. They were rabid, out of control, and lunging almost faster than my vamps could catch them.

  Seth whipped a blade directly at one I swear was no more than three feet away. My brother was strong, and the blade hit hard, knocking the she-vamp back at least ten feet. Another blade flew by; Zetty had thrown that one and damn, he was one strong man. The vamp he nailed flew back and over the wrought-iron fence of the cemetery. It lay there, writhing, screaming, gurgling, until finally, it was silent.

  Some of the rogues looked barely older than Seth. It made me sick; I’d puke later. Now, we had to survive. I nailed four more with blades, one rapid-fire shot after another. I no longer waited to see if I’d hit my mark; I knew I had.

  I glanced to my left; Noah, whose beautiful face had contorted into something I’d rather not remember, grabbed a rogue just as it lunged past him, headed directly for me. In one shake he’d snapped its head off—clean freaking off, like a dandelion head. He dropped the body and turned to me, eyes white, red pupil dead center.

  I could’ve sworn his lips curled into a smile.

  The count had lowered, and although the remaining newlings continued to lunge towa
rd me, my vamps took them all. Jenna and Saul had a pair; Cafrey and Tate had another. Although it felt like hours, only minutes had passed.

  Before I knew it, the fight was over.

  Garr’s men came and collected the writhing, pawing, scratching newlings. That was a sight all its own. I had a hard time believing they could be detoxed. But with Preacher and Garr, anything was possible. They left in a van, leaving us with the mess.

  Eli was suddenly at my side, his flawless face returned to normal. His hands searched my body for injury; his eyes followed. When he was satisfied I wasn’t hurt, he pulled me into his arms and pressed his mouth to my temple. “You scared the shit outta me,” he murmured against my hairline. “Such a badass, huh?”

  “Survivalist,” I corrected, but slipped my arms around his waist. His arms went around me, tightly, protectively. I confess I enjoyed it.

  Luc approached. “All mostly mortals accounted for?”

  Seth chuckled, and he, Jack, Tuba, and even Zetty murmured, “Yeah.”

  “Good,” Luc said, and glanced around. “Let’s clean this mess up and make like a tree and get outta here.”

  One more thing I hated about killing vamps: cleanup. You did not leave vampire waste lying around. It was a valuable hoodoo ingredient, and we salvaged every dust bit possible. Not to mention, Preacher and Garr now both believed that even a small fraction of a vamp left behind would be potential for resurrection later on.

  To that I say, No, thank you, Monster.

  Cleanup took longer than the kill. By the time we finished, the first church bell tolled from St. Michael’s. It was six a.m., nearly light outside, and the group of us were toting around dusty vampire guts in ziplocks.

  We hurriedly departed.

  As we left the historic district, Eli ran on one side of me; Noah, on the other. Noah glanced over at me. “So,” the Charleston vampire said, mercury eyes catching the first rays of daybreak, “beautiful, huh?” He was referring to my earlier thought.