by Angie Martin
Exhaustion nipped at the heels of adrenaline. If I didn’t move soon, I knew I’d fall to my death. I loosened the grip of my left hand until it was free from the rail. I didn’t fall. Mr. Smith had too strong of a hold on me. With his guidance, I raised my left foot and let it dangle over the edge as he helped me turn around to face the railing.
I had never been happier to see his face.
“You’re almost there,” he said, an encouraging smile crossing his lips. “Raise one leg and swing it over.”
As soon as my leg straddled the railing, he tugged and lifted until I landed on the balcony, falling on my side. I didn’t care about the possible scrapes or bruises. He helped me to my feet, and I gripped him in a tight embrace, afraid if I let go, I’d plummet over the side.
“What the hell, Madison?” he whispered in my ear.
“Dark Man,” I said.
He released me and examined my wide eyes.
“Dark Man is real. I saw him.” My memory returned in a flash, and shame crept across my face. “He told me… he said to jump.”
“Who’s Dark Man?”
“The blood seeker in my dreams.”
Mr. Smith’s face paled. I had forgotten he’d seen Dark Man in my dream – our dream. “I saw movement down there,” he said, “but I didn’t see anything specific.”
“It was Dark Man and other blood seekers. I don’t know how they found me here. I thought it was just… that he was just a dream.”
Keira and Garrett rushed out onto the balcony before Mr. Smith could ask any other questions. “Mads!” Keira wrapped her arms around me. “Jiong said something was wrong on The Ridge. He saw you on the cameras…” Letting me go, she asked, “Were you going to jump off the edge?”
“I wasn’t…” But, that wasn’t true. If Mr. Smith hadn’t come in time, I would be a bloodied pancake on that poorly lit dirt road.
“We have a problem,” Mr. Smith said. “I don’t know how, but a blood seeker is projecting thoughts onto her. It’s… it’s in her dreams, too.”
Garrett shook his head. “A blood seeker can’t connect with a mortal unless they’re a companion.” He cast his gaze toward me. “You’re not a companion, are you?”
“No, of course not!” My defiant answer came out harsher than I intended. “I mean, I would never let a blood seeker feed on me. If anyone wanted my blood, I never would have agreed to that.”
“But, there had to be a blood exchange for anything like that to happen,” Keira said. “If it were even possible at all, which…” She looked at Mr. Smith. “Is it even possible for a blood seeker to enter a human’s dreams?”
“It must be,” he said. “Madison found some reference to it in a chronicle.”
“There was never a blood exch…” My face elongated, and my mouth parted. “Oh, no. It couldn’t be that.”
“What is it?” Mr. Smith asked.
“The night you rescued me from my hotel suite. I was talking to my parents on the phone. Mom said something stupid, and I cut my finger on a paring knife. I cleaned up the blood, though.”
“Did you rinse off the wound first?” Keira asked. “Let the blood clot before bandaging it?”
“No, I just wrapped it in a paper towel,” I said. “When it stopped bleeding, I threw that with the lemon in the trash… You don’t think that—”
“Blood exchange,” Garrett said. “Accidental, but it happened.”
“Dark Man took my blood from the towel and lemon?” The thought revolted me, but it seemed the only explanation.
“They somehow knew you were the next chronicler, which is why they were after you,” Keira said. “It makes sense that they’d want a direct line to your mind by taking in your blood, and if you immediately wrapped your finger in the towel without letting the blood clot first, they would have had enough for an exchange.”
Silence permeated the air for several minutes, until Mr. Smith broke it. “They know where we are. We know where they are. And, they want Madison.”
I dreaded his next words, but I knew they would be right.
“We can’t delay this mission any longer,” he said. “We leave tonight.”
Chapter Twenty-six
T hat’s him.” I pointed to the corner of the monitor, my heart racing at the image.
Jiong stopped the playback of the external camera footage. Other heads – Mr. Smith, Keira, Garrett, and Andre – all leaned forward, most of them squinting as they studied the screen.
“Do you see him?” I asked them, eagerness in my tone. Anything to validate I wasn’t going crazy.
“I do see him,” Mr. Smith said.
I exhaled with relief that someone else could see my personal demon.
“You call him Dark Man?” Mr. Smith asked me.
“He’s got dark hair and dark, dead eyes. I didn’t know what else to call him.”
“When we scouted the nest, he was there,” Andre said from beside me. “He definitely acted as the leader. At least he seemed more authoritative than the others. Jiong, can you move the frames forward? It looks like there is someone with him.”
“I saw at least three others,” I said, “but it was hard to tell.”
The image on the monitor jumped forward, one frame at a time until another arm came into view. The owner of the arm’s head dodged into view for a split second, and I instantly recognized him.
“That’s Mullet Man,” I said.
All eyes focused on me.
“He has this greasy, red mullet,” I added. Another memory from my dream flashed through my mind. “And, a gold tooth.”
“We saw him, too,” Andre said. “He seems to be… Dark Man’s right hand.”
Silence fell on us for several long, uncomfortable moments before Mr. Smith spoke. “I need the room, guys.”
I moved to file out with the others, but he grabbed my arm, stopping me.
“Not you,” he said. His grip remained tight on my forearm until the door shut behind the leaving group. He let go of me, and I stepped away from him.
“What is it?” I asked, hoping he’d make our discussion quick.
Instead of answering, he sat on the edge of Jiong’s desk, picked up the phone, and dialed. “Jia? It’s Spencer. Cut all feed to this office.” He paused before saying, “No, all feed. Audio and video.” Another silence, then, “Thank you.” He nestled the receiver in the cradle and shifted his attention back to me.
Cornered. I’d heard the phrase a thousand times before, but I’d never actually felt it until then. I was trapped with this man, who drove me insane on every level, and he had just cut off all ties to the outside world.
Maybe, he was going to kill me.
The thought, ridiculous as it was, bounced around my mind as my eyes darted around the room, searching for my escape. The door wasn’t too far away from me, but I knew I’d never reach it in time. If I could somehow incapacitate him for—
“Do I scare you or something?” His question sent my heart into a race for its own exit from my frozen body.
“No,” I said, not entirely convinced.
“I’ve never seen someone try to get away from me faster than you do,” he said. “And, this isn’t the first time.”
“I… I, uh…” I had to come up with a quick explanation. “You told Jia to cut the video feed. I was looking for the cameras since I hadn’t noticed any in here.”
He hesitated, as if determining whether to believe me. “They’re recessed in areas that they aren’t easily found. It’s hard for one person to monitor all operations. Having cameras and audio helps. The only places we don’t have them are in the bedrooms.”
Makes sense, I thought, but it didn’t explain why he stopped the feed.
“I had a dream last night where I saw your ‘Dark Man,’” he said, “but I have a feeling you already know that. You had the same dream, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know if it was the exact same dream—”
“You were there, we… had a conversation, then the
blood seekers came.”
“That sounds a little… familiar… maybe,” I said, willing him to discuss any part of the dream other than our “conversation.” The rest of it was bad enough.
“He could control you in the dream,” Mr. Smith said. “Make you do whatever he wanted.”
“But, the dreams can’t be real.”
“Dreams? There’s been more than one?”
My eyes closed as I lowered my head. Why did I have to open my mouth? “Just the one last night and another one. I don’t really want to talk about—”
“It’s important,” he said. “I think the dreams are real in that the players are real, but more than that. It’s like we shared a dream, and we’re both conscious of it today.”
“Which is why it can’t be real. I can understand him getting into my dreams now that we know he had access to my blood. But, you? That makes no sense.”
“We’re all bound together by our marks. Maybe it’s possible that you… I don’t know, willed me into the dream?”
A laugh barreled out of me, and I crossed my arms. “Well, I don’t know how that would happen. Besides, you were only in one of the two dreams.”
“I don’t know, either. I’m guessing here. This is all very new for me.” His shoulders heaved, and he let out a long breath. “I’m more concerned about his ability to control your actions. Is that what happened tonight? He controlled you to hop the railing and was trying to persuade you to jump?”
I lowered my head in shame. “Yes.”
“Oh… damn, Madison. You could have died. Given this control he has over you, I should leave you here during this mission—”
“Then, leave me—”
“—but he knows where you are. I can’t leave you unprotected. If you’re here without protection, he could just come back and control your mind.”
I silently agreed with Mr. Smith. If he hadn’t stopped me from jumping, I’d be flattened against the dirt road right now. Dark Man could easily return and try it again, or command me to do much worse.
“Yet, if I take you with us, I don’t know if you’ll be able to stop yourself from being controlled again.”
“I stopped him in the dream,” I said. “He had complete control over me then, but I got out from under it. Maybe, I can do that again or block him somehow.”
“You did, didn’t you?” His squinted eyes inspected my face. “Just a thought, but without another blood exchange, his ability to control you should lessen. Before that happens, though, I need to know you can stop him if it comes to that. What was it that broke his control in the dream?”
I thought for a moment, then said, “Something he said about being infected. The virus. It made me come to when I realized I didn’t want to be like him.” I swallowed against my words, but they came out anyway. “I used to be afraid of dying, but now I know that’s not the worst thing out there. I don’t want to become a blood seeker.”
Mr. Smith scooted off the edge of the desk. “You won’t become one,” he said. “I won’t let that happen.”
“If it does, if this mission goes sideways and he controls me or whatever, promise me you’ll kill me instead of letting me become like him.”
“You won’t—”
“Just, promise me. Please.”
My words hung in the thick air between us, unable to move with the tension holding them hostage. I needed his promise so much more than he understood. I could never become like one of them, especially not under the control of Dark Man. Killing innocents, like my family or Liz. Drinking their blood to survive. And, that smell…
“I—”
A knock on the door interrupted Mr. Smith, and his tightened facial muscles relaxed. He walked past me and opened the door.
“Are you guys ready?” Garrett asked from behind me.
I turned around and nodded at him. “We don’t have much of a choice, do we?” My voice cracked. “I really screwed this up for—”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Mr. Smith said.
Garrett vocalized agreement beside him. “There’s no way any of us could have known that they would use your blood to get to you. And, you had no idea what was after you or that your blood could be a gateway.”
But, it was too late for them to take away my guilt. “Brent lost his life, I got called up, and now I’ve led the blood seekers who killed him straight to you and—”
“Stop,” Mr. Smith said, his palms gripping my upper arms. “You can’t blame—”
“If someone dies on this mission, it’s my fault,” I said.
“No,” Garrett said. “We don’t shell out blame here at the complex. Even if we did, none of this is your fault. Just listen to Spence. I’ll gather the team and meet you guys in the loading bay.” He turned to go, but stopped. “Um, Keira left you some clothes for the mission on your bed,” he said to me. He exited the room, leaving the door cracked open behind him.
With my gaze fixed on Mr. Smith, I whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m really scared right now.”
“I know, and it’s normal. Close your eyes and let your mark take over. Let it calm you.”
I did as he said and focused my thoughts on the mark. I welcomed the rush through my veins, then realized my newfound relaxation didn’t just come from the mark, but from Mr. Smith’s proximity. One of the many effects he had on me.
My eyes popped open, and I stepped away from him. “I’m good,” I said, holding up my hands to put space between us.
I caught a quick glimpse of his smile before he opened the door and led the way out.
Chapter Twenty-seven
I looked like a cat burglar, if anyone still called it that. My mom had always used that phrase, and it stuck somewhere in the back of my mind. Not that I’d ever seen a cat burglar, but what I saw in the mirror must have resembled one.
Heading for the door to my room, I adjusted the long, black sleeves of my tight shirt, then tugged it down, over the waist of stretchy, black jeans. At least we didn’t have to wear pants or stiff jeans. Much too uncomfortable for a mission.
Music pounded through the wall my bedroom shared with Mr. Smith’s. It had just started, making me curious as to why he wasn’t ready to leave yet. Had something changed in the mission?
I exited my room and followed the sound of the heavy guitar and pounding bass until I reached his door. I rapped on the wood, my knuckles hitting the door as hard as possible so he could hear me. After a few seconds, I repeated the knock. I almost gave up when his door swung open.
“Yeah?” he asked, standing in black jeans with no shirt. Again. “Are you ready to go?”
“I am, but I heard the music.”
“Sorry about that,” he said, rushing back into his room. He turned down the volume on the speakers attached to a computer on a corner desk.
Stepping over the threshold, I watched him scurry back to his bed and grab the shirt laid out across it. After he pulled the shirt over his head, he said, “I always listen to music before and on the way for a mission. Kinda puts me in the right mood.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I don’t mind it, in case you were wondering.”
“Not too loud for you?”
I smirked and said, “Never seems to be loud enough.”
A surprised smile crossed his lips, and he nodded. “Okay. Okay then.” He went to his closet, disappeared for a moment, and came out with a black shoulder holster without any guns.
“Do guns work on blood seekers?” I asked, remembering the machete he carried at my hotel suite.
“Not to kill, but they can slow them down.” He slipped into the holster. “I had this modified so my machete fits on my back.” From his bed, he grabbed his machete and locked it into place.
“Do I get a weapon of some sort?”
“We never had time to practice with a machete. I suppose we can give you a gun, but without any experience—”
“I come from a small town in Kansas,” I said. “Grew up hunting and fishing. Got my first buck at se
venteen.”
“Are you sure you’re a romance writer?” he asked.
“These aren’t exactly the kinds of things that I talk about in interviews. Liz always tells me – I mean, told me that I needed to show a softer side for the readers.”
“How are you with handguns?”
“Better than I am with a rifle.”
“We’ll head down to the armory and get you geared up. You can decide which one works best for you.” He paused for a moment, then asked, “Can I make a small suggestion? Your hair. Don’t leave it loose like it is. You don’t want to give anyone anything they can grab.”
The little things I would never have thought of, like the necessity for hair to be pulled back completely, raised my incompetence level in my already doubtful mind. Despite the mark telling me where I belonged, I couldn’t fathom how I would manage this world. My life expectancy seemed much shorter than the others in the complex.
As we walked out of his room and toward the elevators, I redid my ponytail in favor of a tight bun. At the end of the hall, just beyond the last elevator, Mr. Smith pulled out a set of keys from his jeans and unlocked a door, one I had seen before, but to which I’d never paid much attention. Down the short hall was another elevator with only a “down” arrow on the wall. The surprises of the complex never ceased.
My thoughts wandered across any other details of Dark Man knowing my identity, searching for anything I may have missed. Stepping into the elevator behind Mr. Smith, I instantly landed on an alarming one.
“They know who I am and where I am,” I said. “What about my family? Friends? Are they safe?”
“They’re fine.”
A bit of panic tinged my voice. “How do you know?”
“Because the blood seekers, and this Dark Man… they know who you are. They knew before we did. If they were going to do something to your family or friends, they would have done it long before now.” He fidgeted with his keys, moving each one from left to right over the top of the ring. “I, uh… I also have a few night stalkers from another complex watching them, and as of three hours ago, your family and closest friends were all unharmed.”
