Night Magic

by Jenna Black

  I stopped walking and hugged the mink coat around me. It still felt decadently soft to my fingers. I shivered in a chill that had nothing to do with the cold. “But how?”

  “I took you home early, that’s all.” His brows drew together in an expression somewhere between concern and confusion. “It’s no big deal. We only had a couple of hours left before dawn anyway. You didn’t miss much.”

  I took a step back from him. I didn’t think he’d meant any harm by what he’d done, but I don’t like people making decisions for me, and I certainly don’t like having a couple of hours of my life erased from existence. Bad enough that the daylight hours were already lost to me.

  “What do you mean, home? I don’t have a home anymore, and even if I did, it wouldn’t be … wherever you took me.”

  His lips pressed together with impatience. “There’s no reason to be so difficult about this. Next time, I’ll let you barf your guts out, okay? The night and the city are ours for the taking, so why waste that time arguing?”

  He reached for my arm, but I twitched out of reach. Piper had once told me that being Nightstruck didn’t mean you couldn’t get angry anymore, and here was proof positive that she was right. My fingers curled into fists, and my shoulders were so tight and tense I could have worn them as earrings. Aleric was looking pretty pissed off himself, his eyes narrowed and his lips turning white. The rest of the Nightstruck asked how high when Aleric ordered them to jump, but—thank God—I felt no burning compulsion to do whatever he told me to do. He didn’t seem to know how to interact with a girl who had a will of her own.

  He took a deep breath and smoothed the heavy crease that had formed between his brows as his sensual lips eased into a smile. “Come now, Becks,” he wheedled, “it was an innocent mistake. I assumed you would prefer not to be sick. You even said you didn’t want to be. I took you at your word. I promise I’ll be more careful in the future.”

  He was right, of course. I had told I didn’t want to be sick. Was it his fault he had taken that as permission to steal a couple hours of my life? He had, after all, given me exactly what I’d asked for.

  But tonight I didn’t feel like being mollified. Especially when Aleric had once again completely ignored my question about what happened to me during the day. I hated having that huge blank space in my memory, hated the idea that those hours were disappearing from my life, hated the idea that as the year progressed, there would be more and more hours missing as the days became longer. The only thing I truly missed from my old life was having twenty-four hours in my day.

  Aleric reached for me again, and again I avoided his grasp. It had not escaped me that so far, he had not left my side even for a moment since I’d become Nightstruck. I wondered if he was worried that I’d go running back to my old life if he wasn’t constantly monitoring me.

  Not that that was possible, at least not as far as I knew. I had never heard of one of the Nightstruck being restored before. Piper had seemed to come back to herself, the Nightstruck green of her eyes fading away, but that was only because she was dying. I was pissed off at Aleric and unhappy about my missing hours, but not enough to die for a chance to go back to normal.

  Anyway, normal sucked for me. I wasn’t having a great time right this moment, but I felt far better than I had when I’d been mourning the loss of my dad and fearing for the lives of everyone else I cared for. If I had to trade a few hours of my life every day to have this blissful relief, then it was so worth it. But Aleric needed to learn that I wasn’t his bitch and that I would not tolerate him making decisions for me.

  “I think that tonight, I’d like some time to myself,” I told him.

  Aleric rolled his eyes like this was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “Don’t you think it’s a little childish to go off in a huff because I did exactly what you wanted me to do?”

  Once upon a time, I’d been scared to death of Aleric. If I had any good sense left, I’d be scared of him now. He was used to getting everything he wanted all the time, and he didn’t seem to be enjoying this new experience of being denied. I’d never seen him be violent, but I had no doubt that he had it in him, and I’d certainly seen his careless disregard for the lives of the other Nightstruck. I also had no idea just what kind of power he held over me. Was it possible I had a will of my own only because he let me?

  But despite all these quite sensible reasons why I should have been scared of him, I just wasn’t. Becoming Nightstruck had made my grief and guilt retreat to a dark corner of my mind where I could see they existed but couldn’t really access them. It now appeared fear was keeping them company in that corner.

  “I’m not going off in a huff,” I said. “I just want to spend some time by myself. You’ve been stuck to me like glue my every conscious moment for the last couple of nights, and I’m ready for a break.”

  Aleric’s eyes glittered, and he took a menacing step toward me. I took a step back to keep out of his reach, but I still felt nothing more than a vague unease. Nothing close to fear, despite my logical mind telling me this guy could be super hazardous to my health if he wanted to be. Maybe I was just convinced he didn’t want to be.

  Aleric stopped himself with a little jerk. I could still see the anger and frustration hovering about him in a little dark cloud, but he spoke in a conspicuously reasonable tone. “Very well. Have it your way. See how much fun you can have all by yourself. When you decide I was right all along, just call for me. It doesn’t matter where you are, I promise I’ll come.”

  He turned his back on me and walked away. But I couldn’t help wondering just how much freedom he was really giving me. After all, the easiest way to make sure he could always come when I called was to never let me out of his sight. So even after he disappeared from view, I felt like he was just around the corner, watching me. And maybe he was.

  * * *

  I was determined to have a good time without Aleric, to prove to him that I didn’t need him. I was still my own person, just like I always had been. I had never been and never would be the kind of girl who needs a male around to validate her existence.

  The problem was that wandering around the city streets alone at night in the cold was a hard thing to make into fun. I thought about trying to break into some more stores for another shopping trip, but even if I could have gotten in somewhere without the help of Leo and Aleric and his sacrificial Nightstruck army, I didn’t think it would be all that exciting a second time. And, okay, it wouldn’t be that much fun alone, either.

  I shoved my hands deeper into the pockets of my coat as I walked down Chestnut Street, trying to think of something to do. Maybe I didn’t need some guy to make my life worthwhile, but I guess I wasn’t really made to be a loner. Within half an hour, I was bored out of my skull. Also cold. Also hungry.

  But Aleric wasn’t going to get the best of me that easily. No way in hell I was going to call for him, even if it meant wandering the city aimlessly until dawn swept me away again.

  When I finally realized there was a reason why the Nightstruck traveled in packs, I felt like a moron for not having thought of that before. Just because I didn’t want to hang out with Aleric all night didn’t mean I had to be alone.

  I fell in with the first pack I came across, tagging along at the tail end without waiting for anyone’s invitation. No one seemed to mind, though they didn’t go out of their way to be friendly, either. There were three men and two women other than me, and they were all high or drunk or both. Both of the women were dressed like stereotypical hookers, in high heels that made my ankles hurt in sympathy. It was too cold out for bare legs, but that didn’t seem to have discouraged them from wearing microminiskirts. They both walked with an exaggerated hip sway that the men seemed to enjoy.

  One of the men was okay-looking, or might have been without all the tattoos on his neck. Nothing against tattoos or anything, but these looked like they’d been drawn by a five-year-old. A blind five-year-old. The other two men had scraggly beards and mus
taches and smelled like they spent a lot of their time under bridges. I quickly decided that these were not my type of people and veered away. One of the gross men voiced a protest and started describing the things he would do to me if I hung around. In his twisted mind, I think it was an invitation rather than a threat, but I hurried away anyway and was relieved not to be chased. I reminded myself that the Nightstruck didn’t prey on each other—and that Aleric would likely kill anyone who dared lay hands on me.

  After a little while, I found another pack, this one made up of mostly teens. They seemed boisterous and happy, all talking at once and laughing as they passed around a bottle. A girl with dreadlocks held the bottle out to me and beckoned me to join them. She looked friendly enough, and the guys in this group were a little more clean-cut, so I figured why not? I took the bottle and checked to make sure it wasn’t Sambuca before taking a swig. It was vodka—regrettably not the chocolate kind—and though I didn’t exactly love it, I had no trouble getting it down.

  Generally, the packs I’d run across seemed to be wandering aimlessly, just waiting for something to pique their interest. However, there seemed to be some focus and purpose to this group. They were drinking, but not drunk, and I soon picked up on a sense of low-level excitement.

  “Where are we going?” I asked the girl in dreadlocks.

  She smiled at me and pointed at one of the guys. “You see Damien over there? His girlfriend dumped him, and we’re going to help him mend his broken heart.”

  I frowned. “I didn’t think the Nightstruck got their hearts broken.”

  The girl sniffed. “The bitch broke his heart before he was Nightstruck. Now we’re going to teach her a lesson.”

  The others chorused agreement as Damien threw back his head and howled. They all laughed and punched each other in the shoulder or gave each other high fives. I doubted any of them had ever met Damien before tonight, and there was certainly no reason why they should be taking revenge on the girl who dumped him.

  But an awful lot of the Nightstruck seemed to find crap like that fun. Piper and her skeevy friends had had a great time torturing my dad to death before my eyes. I searched for that spark of malice inside myself, wondering why the idea of terrifying and hurting some girl I didn’t know held no appeal to me. I tried to imagine myself whooping it up as these Nightstruck did … whatever it was they were planning to do, and the image just wouldn’t come to me.

  I’d expected to become a wholly different person when I was Nightstruck, but that wasn’t at all what seemed to have happened. As far as I could tell, I was the same old Becket, minus the guilt, the grief, and the insecurity. I might be angry with Aleric and concerned about where those missing hours of my life were going to, but I was still incredibly glad I’d finally given in. If I’d known then that I wouldn’t become some cackling sadist, I never would have fought it so hard.

  Of course the old Becket probably would have felt honor-bound to try to stop this pack from tormenting Damien’s ex, but that Becket had been absurdly idealistic. I was one person, and if I had any supernatural powers, I had yet to see any sign of them. There would be absolutely nothing I could do to stop my Nightstruck companions from doing anything they wanted to do, and I certainly knew better than to try to talk them out of it. Maybe you think I was being cold and uncaring, but I think I was just being smart and rational when I let myself fall a little behind the group, then turned the corner and walked away when I had a chance.

  The reality was I would not find any great fun and entertainment by hanging out with a pack of Nightstruck. They just didn’t have the same definition of fun as I did. But being alone still sucked, and I was far too stubborn to call for Aleric.

  I didn’t consciously plan to do it, but after a few minutes of being completely lost in thoughts that circled pointlessly through my brain, I snapped out of it and realized my feet were taking me back toward my old house. Not that there was anything left there for me. Piper and the Nightstruck had broken, torn, spray-painted, and/or peed on everything I owned, so there was no good reason to go back there.

  But of course it wasn’t really my house my feet were leading me toward. No, they were leading me to the house across the courtyard from where I used to live. The house where Luke lived, and where I’d been making my home ever since Piper left me effectively homeless.

  The lights were on inside, though they were barely visible behind the mouthlike openings the windows had become when the sun went down. Those mouths came complete with vicious fangs that were no doubt ready to chomp down on anyone who came too close. I kept a respectful distance from those fangs—they were decorative bars during the daytime—as I peeked through the first-floor window.

  There was a sudden and ferocious bark, and I leapt back in surprise as suddenly a familiar form threw itself against the window, claws scrabbling against the glass. I had never been on the receiving end of one of Bob’s tirades before, and I completely understood why people were generally terrified of him.

  “It’s just me, Bob,” I yelled, but I doubted he could hear me over the sound of his own barking and snarling. It was a good thing for me he was inside and I was out, because he seemed about ready to tear my throat out. I felt a mild twinge of regret that my own dog wanted to tear me apart, and the fur of my mink coat suddenly didn’t seem as soft or desirable. I wanted my dog curled up beside me on a couch as I dug my fingers into his ruff. But Bob could obviously tell I was Nightstruck, and he hated the Nightstruck and the constructs with all the fury a trained attack dog can muster.

  When Bob had been defending me from the terrible things that roamed the night, he’d been so mindless with fury he’d ripped his poor paws apart trying to claw his way out. I was glad to find I still cared about his well-being enough to back away from the window in hopes that he would quiet down.

  “I love you, too, Bob,” I whispered, but the love I had once felt for him was strangely muted. Yes, I would have loved for him to greet me with a wagging tail and happy eyes, and I would have liked to give him a little scratch behind the ears, but I wasn’t heartbroken or anything. Only mildly regretful in a way I knew would fade the moment he was out of my sight.

  Bob’s barking had drawn the attention of the house’s other inhabitant, and when Luke grabbed Bob’s collar and dragged him away from the window, my heart did a little flip-flop in my chest. I’m not sure if what I’d felt for Luke before I’d been Nightstruck could technically count as love, but it had at least been close. Close enough that my last act before being taken by the night was to text him with an embarrassing Luv U. Not my finest moment.

  Luke glanced out the window, but I’m guessing all he saw was his own reflection as he looked out from his lighted house to the dark street. I could hear Bob carrying on still. I knew I should give the poor guy a break—it couldn’t be good for him to get this worked up—but I couldn’t force my feet to move. Not while Luke stood in that window.

  Secure in the knowledge that he couldn’t see me, I stared to my heart’s content, drinking in the sight of him. For years, he’d been my ideal of masculine perfection, the boy I’d always wanted but thought was too good for me. He had the perfect lean, athletic build, beautifully warm hazel eyes, and a decadent baritone voice that made my insides melt no matter what he was saying. The time we’d spent together in the last few weeks had proven that his appeal went far beyond his good looks. He was loyal, and brave, and kind. And he was an awesome kisser. Maybe Aleric was the hotter of the two in a bad-boy kind of way, but Luke still pushed my buttons.

  Of course he had to hate my guts now. He and Piper had been well on their way to breaking up before she’d been Nightstruck, but in a sense she’d still officially been his girlfriend when I killed her. He might not have liked what Piper turned into, but he was way too loyal to have anything to do with her murderer.

  The lights went off inside the house. It took me a second to realize Luke had turned them off so he could see out the window, see what had gotten Bob all riled up. He
blinked a couple of times as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. I could tell when he spotted me, because his entire body went still.

  Our eyes met through that closed window, and I felt a distinct pang of longing in my chest. I’d thought the daylight hours were the only part of my previous life I missed. Turned out I was wrong. The joy of being Nightstruck was that I could have anything I wanted—except, it turned out, the thing I wanted most.

  Piper had told Luke and me that he was not vulnerable to the charms of the night, that it wasn’t possible for him to be Nightstruck. I wondered if she’d known that for a fact, or if she’d just been parroting something Aleric had told her. I supposedly hadn’t been vulnerable, either, at least not until Aleric goaded me into killing Piper for all the wrong reasons. Maybe I could do to Luke what Piper had done to me, weaken his defenses so that he could be Nightstruck, too. My life would be perfect then.

  Luke slid the window open, and I felt like I might faint in shock when I saw he had a gun—and was pointing it right at me.

  “Get out of here, Becket.” He had to yell to make himself heard over Bob. “I don’t want to shoot you, but I will if I have to.”

  That was bravado speaking, and we both knew it. Luke was a total novice with guns, and though I couldn’t see clearly in the darkness, I figured the one he was holding was my dad’s old backup piece. Which meant Luke had gone through my things after I’d disappeared, which kinda pissed me off.

  I almost taunted him, almost said something monumentally stupid like, “You’re not going to shoot me.” You know, the kind of thing that always gets you killed in the movies. But though I didn’t believe he would shoot, there was no reason to be dumb about it.

  I raised my hands so he could see I was unarmed. “I’m not here to hurt anyone,” I yelled. “I just … wanted to check on you. See if you’re all right.”

  Luke snorted in disdain. “Yeah, right. Tell me another one.”