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Black as Midnight

Page 28

by Mary Martel


  Marcus shrugged in a gesture that screamed what can you do and walked away.

  "This is one of the weirdest nights of my whole life," I groaned, and that was saying something, because there had been several doozies in there.

  A commotion at the back of the motel had me turning to face the building in time to see everyone else we were missing come running out.

  "We got what we were looking for," Damien said, as he came to a stop in front of the table. He held a stack of papers high and waved it at the rest of us. "Everything on the hunters that they had, we made copies of."

  My eyes widened. That wasn't what I had expected them to be looking for. I thought it would be about more women.

  "I thought you'd find something on them," Marcus murmured thoughtfully. "Hopefully some of it is useful, and you can find out where they are hiding and if they know anything about Ariel."

  "That's what this is about?" I asked on a hysterical laugh. "You could have probably asked Adrian about this and he would have told you. I know he's creepy and an a-hole, but I think he actually takes his role as a Council member seriously. He would have given you the information if you'd asked about it. We didn't need to take it to this extreme."

  "Doesn't matter," Quinton said briskly. "It's done and over with now. We're going home and they'll be none the wiser. They'll wake up feeling hungover and thinking they had a good time all night long."

  Quinton moved into me, grabbed hold of my arm, and dragged me off around the side of the building. I could feel the rest of the others following behind us.

  "What about the boys who'd brought out dinner?" I asked suspiciously. If he'd done something horrible to those young teenage boys, I was going to punch him in the throat and make him cry like a baby.

  "Julian took care of them. They'll be sleeping it off as well."

  "And they've not been harmed?" I pushed, for some reason needing to know the answer. They weren't mine, but that didn't mean I couldn't look out for them.

  Quinton smiled down at me sweetly. "Raven was right," he stated. "You are definitely different than all the rest of them."

  I frowned at him as he dragged me to the car.

  What the hell was that supposed to mean?

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Everyone was tucked away in their own beds and fast asleep. I'd chosen to spend the night alone in my big bed that Quinton had given me. When I'd complained before about waking up alone, I knew that tomorrow would be very different and I would welcome the time to myself. I needed it.

  I sat the foot of the bed in my pajama shorts, tank top, and pretty silk robe Dash had given me. I was hunched over with my elbows pressed into my knees, and my head in my hands.

  I wasn't upset, but I had too much on my mind for me to be able to sleep. It wouldn't shut off no matter what I tried. I'd stared up at my dreamcatcher, counting sheep and trying to relax. Images ran through my mind, interrupting my counting and making it impossible for me to sleep.

  I kept going back to those cards Quinton had read for me and kept getting held up on that stupid fucking Death card. He'd said it wasn't a bad thing and it heralded new beginnings, and that was something I could have gotten on board with a couple of days ago. Now, after the epic failure of a dinner party, I couldn't get behind a new beginning. The thought alone terrified me.

  It made me think too much about Adrian sitting there and announcing he wanted to invite me to join him and the rest of the Council. All those eyes watching me with hunger and lust. Rachel blatantly hitting on my men. The Council being responsible for young teenage boys who were probably better off at an orphanage than with those creeps.

  So much shit swirled around in my head and, what was worse, I was remembering the feeling of that blade sinking into that hunter’s flesh when I'd stabbed him. I'd stabbed someone, happily, and hadn't felt bad when he'd been killed afterwards.

  That last part ate at me and had been the real reason I'd crawled out of bed and turned the lights back on.

  Chucky had stabbed Dash without a second thought and he'd felt zero remorse for doing so. In fact, I think he'd gotten some sort of sick joy out of it. I'd gotten no joy out of stabbing that hunter, but I had felt a sense of satisfaction, just not in a sick way. Still, shouldn't I feel remorseful?

  I sighed loudly as I pushed myself up from the bed.

  I paced around the room for a good twenty minutes, beating myself up for something I couldn't take back or seem to change my feelings for, and believe me, I'd tried.

  When pacing did absolutely nothing to calm me down, and I realized that despite how exhausted I was there would be no sleep for me tonight, I headed downstairs. With the mood I was in, I hoped everyone else was asleep because I didn't think I'd make good company tonight. Nobody else needed to share in my misery.

  The foyer and formal living room were empty. The office was the same. There was sound coming from the kitchen area and I knew the television was on in there.

  I thought about turning around and heading right back upstairs, but just thinking about sitting in my quiet room all by myself with only my thoughts to keep me company made my skin itch with the need to move.

  Maybe I should take up running. Then I could run, pushing myself to the point of exhaustion. I bet I'd sleep well then. It was too bad the thought of wearing running shoes and, you know, actually running really did not appeal to me.

  The kitchen was empty, the light off.

  The living room was not.

  Trenton lay on the leather couch with both his hands tucked behind his head. His feet were crossed at the ankles and he was wearing plain black pajama bottoms and a matching short-sleeved t-shirt.

  Only his eyes moved as he tracked my movements.

  I sat at the end of the couch, next to his bare feet, and curled my legs into my chest. I wrapped my arms around my legs and rested my chin on top of my knee. I didn't look at him, but could feel him staring at me.

  "What are you watching?" I asked, as I kept my gaze trained on the ginormous television mounted to the wall. It was the largest TV I had ever seen in someone's home before. Boys were boys, after all, and they liked their toys. Well, except for Quinton it seemed. The only thing he really, really liked seemed to be being an asshole, books, and me. Though, not exactly in that order. I liked to think I came first.

  Trenton cleared his throat before mumbling uncomfortably, "Gossip Girl."

  I turned to gape at him in surprise before I burst out into laughter.

  This scarred up male who had a vibe about him that said he'd kick your ass if you fucked with him, had dedicated his life to being a badass bodyguard, and knew how to wield a sword like he'd been born to it, was sitting here in the dark watching Gossip Girl.

  When I finally got my laughter under control, I told him, "I think you and Julian have the potential to be great friends. By chance, do you like the Titanic?"

  "The movie?" he asked quietly, and I nodded my head. "Never seen it before."

  "Hmm..." I murmured noncommittally. In my head, though, I was already planning on having a conversation with Julian so I could set up a torture time for him to watch the movie with Trenton. Don't get me wrong, I liked the movie for the most part, but there had been enough room for the both of them on that raft at the end. There was no reason, outside of Rose being a spoiled brat, for Jack to have turned into a popsicle at the end. I would watch horror movies with Damien all night long before I ever watched that movie with Julian. No, thank you.

  If Trenton was a willing enough victim then I would happily throw him under that particular bus.

  Someone cleared their throat from behind us. Trenton remained still, only his eyes going behind the couch. I, on the other hand, jumped. I flew to my feet as my hand went to my chest and I whirled around.

  Rain stood on the other side of the couch, his arms crossed over his chest, and lips that kept twitching in one corner of his mouth.

  "Something funny, Rain?" I inquired in an unfriendly voice. I had no idea how long
he'd been standing there spying on us. It was a rude thing to do, but I knew I had no right to be upset about it when there were so many people staying in one house at the moment. Privacy was hard won when you lived with a house full of guys.

  "Oh, hey," Simon said, as he strolled around Rain and moved to where his brother's head rested against the arm of the couch. "Gossip Girl, hell yes, bro. This is my favorite episode. Shove over so there's room for me. If you want to make popcorn too, you won't hear any complaints from me."

  Simon tried to sit down, shoving his brother's head over with his hip, and I eyed them both like they were insane. They might as well have been as far as I was concerned.

  The brothers argued playfully amongst themselves. I smiled softly at them before looking back to Rain.

  "What are you doing down here, Rain?"

  Rain gave me a sad smile, this one the furthest thing from amused I had ever seen.

  "I was hoping to find you awake," he told me. "I heard someone moving around up here and hoped to find you. If not in here, I was going to go to your bedroom."

  That hadn't really answered my question so I asked, "Why?"

  He scratched the back of his neck nervously and suddenly he looked uncomfortable.

  "Dad," I said in a quiet voice. "What's going on? Is something wrong with you?"

  His face immediately softened and his eyes shined brightly. I watched him blink quickly and knew he was trying to get his emotions under control, taking back the control he always held on tightly to with an iron fist.

  Rain cleared his throat as he looked away from me.

  That soft look on his face was close to my undoing and I almost sat down on the couch, put my face in my hands, and bawled my eyes out like a baby.

  My relationship with Rain was so fucked up, there was never going to be anything normal between us and I hoped we weren't always like this. I didn't care to be normal, I never had. How could I when I grew up with the toxic mess that was Vivian? And I had always been okay with that. I did not want the same for my relationship with Rain. He wasn't toxic like his sister had been, and all he really wanted to do was love me and take care of me. He couldn't help it that he'd gone through hell and back, and it had changed him in reprehensible ways. There was no coming back for Rain, but I was okay with that because we were moving forward, not backward, and we would have to learn how we fit, together, and that would take time.

  "Nothing's wrong," he responded in a thick voice. "I was going to show you something I drew up for you and wanted to know if you'd like for me to ink it on you. We can add blood magic to it later to give it a purpose, but you need to have the actual tattoo first for it to be long lasting. Eventually, I’ll have to touch it up with magic after I add that component, but you will always carry the tattoo on your body."

  I stared up at the man who was my father and my heart filled almost to bursting.

  I had to clear my throat twice before I could get out words. "What… what did you draw up? Can I see it before you tattoo it on me?"

  There was no question that I was going to let him ink me with what he'd drawn up for me, but that didn't mean I did not want to see it first.

  Rain held up a sheet of paper and I moved around the couch as if it had a silent pull that I could not resist even if I tried. I didn't try to resist. My feet moved me over until I stood in front of Rain. I took the piece of paper from his hand and stared down at it.

  There was no color except for the black ink, the color of the pen he'd used to draw it up with. It strongly reminded me of the ink drawings Quinton and Tyson had given me of the Tarot cards. It was beautiful.

  A sliver of a moon that looked like it was dripping, maybe even bleeding, possibly weeping. There were tiny little stars in the distance. It was simple, yes, but the detail that had been drawn into the moon was what made it beautiful.

  I loved it.

  "I thought we'd start off with something simple for your first tattoo," Rain explained in a quiet voice. He cleared his throat again. "And... there's also something else, something I want to show you."

  Rain pulled up the sleeve of his long, black thermal. He flipped his right arm up, baring the inside of his wrist up to me.

  "What?" I inquired in confusion. "What is this?"

  "This was my first tattoo," Rain said in a thick voice. "It's the one my father gave me when I was a young boy. He got the same one when he was little. My daughter would have received the same thing had she not been taken from me. Mine has had blood magic mixed with ink tattooed into it for years now. It allows me to see auras and things other people cannot see. If you want, when your tattoo has healed and you're ready for it, I will mix the blood magic in with your tattoo as well for you. That will also allow you to see auras and other things. That is... if you want the tattoo."

  My eyes stung with tears and I couldn't stop them when they leaked out of the corners of my eyes. I wasn't embarrassed or ashamed to be crying in front of this man. Instead, my heart was breaking in the best kind of way.

  "Can we do it now?" I choked out. "I want to do it now. I don't want to go another day without it. That belongs on me just as much as it belongs on you."

  A tear escaped out the corner of my father's eye, trailing slowly down his tanned cheek. He raised a hand to my face and, unlike every other male I knew in my life, he ran the backs of his knuckles down my cheek, the unscarred side.

  "It would be my honor," he whispered fiercely.

  And, in the next blink of an eye, he turned away from me and was gone.

  I stood there in confusion, staring toward the empty doorway, crying uselessly.

  Someone touched my shoulder, making me jerk, and I turned to glare at them. Simon stood there looking at me with soft wonder on his face.

  "You really were lost to him, weren't you?" he murmured in a soft, gentle voice.

  I looked up at him with tears pouring down my cheeks and said the most honest thing I had said in all my life. "Not lost to him. Stolen."

  That sent off a whole new round of tears, and, this time, they weren't happy ones.

  They were filled with heartbreak and sorrow.

  Not just for me, but for Rain as well.

  Chapter Thirty

  I excused myself and ran to the downstairs bathroom in the hallway beside Quinton's office. I needed to shut myself away behind a closed, locked door and put myself back together again before I faced the brothers who'd seen me in such a vulnerable state and crying my eyes out.

  Hell, I didn't even think I would be comfortable with all my guys seeing me in such a state. I was a hot mess. Less on the hot side and more so on the mess part.

  My hands shook as I turned on the sink faucet. Cold water poured out and I shoved my shaking hands underneath the spray. The freezing cold was a shock to my system that served well to drag me out of my sorrow.

  I blinked and the tears stopped as if I had willed them to do so.

  I turned off the faucet and slapped my cold, wet hands across my cheeks. The slaps stung, but I was so numb it barely even registered, and the part that did made the pain almost pleasant.

  God, I was so fucked up that pain didn't hurt, but ended up feeling oddly good to me.

  What was the matter with me? Would I always be this way and would it later affect my everyday life?

  I didn't want to think about it.

  I gripped my hands on the edge of the sink and stared down at the floor, trying to get my shit together so I could go out there and face my father without breaking down and crying in front of him again.

  A light knock sounded on the door and I cursed under my breath as I let go of the sink and took a shuddering breath.

  Couldn't they just give me a damn minute to myself?

  "Ariel," Trenton called through the door. "I'm not trying to bother you, sugar, but your dad is back and setting everything up in the kitchen. I thought you would want to know that you've got about ten minutes to yourself in there before he comes looking for you. If you need more time than
that, you should let me know now so I can run interference for you so you get the time you need."

  I had thought I'd been alone, but I was wrong. Trenton had followed me to the bathroom to make sure I was okay because he was my bodyguard and that's what bodyguards do.

  For the first time since he and his brother had moved in here and disturbed my life by their arrival, I didn't feel resentful toward the brothers.

  He was doing what he'd been raised to do and it was the only thing he knew.

  I could understand that and, just this one time, not be resentful toward him for it.

  I moved to the door and unlocked it. I opened the door and peeked out at him. He looked down at me with a face full of worry as he stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets.

  "It's going to be okay, you know," he promised seriously, as his eyes roamed over my face. "Whatever it is that you need from me, I will give it to you. He's your father and was once my savior. Not just mine but my brother's savior as well. We owe him, always will, but he would want us to look after you before that debt was paid, always. Not that any of that matters when it comes to you, you come first for us. You'll always be the priority for the two of us, no matter what. It's part magic, part just who and what we are. If you want me to tell him to postpone this for a night, I will. And, because he's your father, he'll agree with it."

  I stared at him blankly, my tears a long gone memory.

  His words were welcome but also unwelcome at the same time. I didn't want to be the thing that came between him and my father. Not when he felt like he owed Rain everything. Not when he clearly respected and adored my father.

  I reached up and trailed my finger down the wicked looking scar that ran down his chin, past his jaw, and down the column of his throat. He shivered at the touch, but I was aware it wasn't sexual for either of us. It was more of an understanding.

 

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