Falling from the Light (The Night Runner Series Book 3) (20 page)

Thurston signaled to me and I joined him at the counter where a slim clerk with black eyes circled her fangs with her tongue. A newbie, just getting used to them. She glanced back and forth between us, trying to figure out the dynamic. Shaken, feeling slightly ill, I smiled at her. Fake it till you goddamn make it.

“I need to check out or rent a vehicle,” I said. “However that works.”

“Of course. We have these available.” She set a black folio on the counter and opened it to reveal a glossy page covered in pictures of vehicles. She tapped three of the nine vehicles showcased there. Vamp-proofed vans and sedans. I perked up at a sleek Mercedes that probably purred. Then I saw it, a burly SUV with massive wheels and a vented engine.

“What’s this?”

“You have discerning taste, miss. That’s our Bradigan, custom made in Ireland and loaned to us by Mr. MacInness. Seven hundred horsepower, a V-12—”

“Yes. That. I’ll take that.”

Tenth World truly was luxury service with a pointy smile. I didn’t have to hand over my ID or go through an endless optional insurance spiel. A name, a room number, and we were off. We waited in the valet tunnel for the car to be brought around, Thurston hovering near the door while I walked to the end where the sun shone hot. The valets were human, but their attention was on the vampires coming and going.

I ran my tongue around my mouth until I found a hard grain wedged between tooth and gum. If I had to get dental work done, I was giving up. That was the end of the line. I pulled out the fragment and held it up to the light. It wasn’t a piece of tooth. It was a small red…thing. It flashed in the sun, like a garnet or a crystallized sliver of cherry.

The only thing I’d ingested that color recently had been blood.

I threw it out into the gravel lining the room, then backed away. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t right at all.

I retreated into the darkness and huddled behind Thurston. Saliva filled my mouth and my stomach twisted, wanting to spill its contents. I startled when a door opened behind me—some hidden valet shortcut—then straightened, shoving my hand back through my hair, when Malcolm stepped out. His hair was damp and curling a bit, and the charcoal suit and crisp white shirt he’d changed into made him look about a thousand times better. A pang went through me. If only the clothes made the man.

Soraya slipped through behind him. She gave me a sharp once-over, reminding me that she was no longer a fan. I fiddled with my bag, checked my wallet, then stilled as the vehicle rolled up. Its rumble filled the small space. It was squared, lined by a series of ridges that looked like it had been squeezed through a too-tight mold and come out the other side angry. And it was murdered out, all deep-smoke window tint and flat black paint.

“Do you like it?” Mal asked.

“It’s nice,” I said cautiously, not wanting to provoke him to another display.

“Do you want one?”

My head caught when I tried to shake it. “It’s not very practical.”

“She’s driving this?” Soraya asked skeptically.

“There’s nothing wrong with the car,” I shot back.

“It’s fine,” Malcolm said. “I’m certain it will get the job done.”

“It looks as though it was put together by Dr. Frankenstein,” Soraya said, glaring at the car over crossed arms.

“You can’t blame the monster for what she looks like.” I ran my hand along the wheel well. Oh, she was sweet. “If you’re coming, we’re leaving now.”

Malcolm dealt with the valets—a significant amount of green seemed to exchange hands—while I climbed into the driver’s seat and waited for the back doors to close. The rumble of the engine worked its way into my bones. She might be ugly, but the Bradigan could kick. The inside was leather, low-profile blue dash lights, and chrome edging. Yeah, maybe I kind of wanted one.

Within thirty minutes, I’d found all my comfortable settings. The right seat recline. The right air flow. The right speed—significant. Thirty minutes after that, I was three-quarters in love with the car. I was also furious. My anger had built with every mile, and the press of vampire energy from the other side of the metal and glass had fed it. Where did Malcolm get off sneering at me? He’d made fun of my clothes, for fuck’s sake. Like my normal state, the way I’d always been, was suddenly ridiculous. And he’d goddamn flaunted Chastity at me. Spun her around and thrown her in my face before grabbing and kissing me in front of a million vampires.

I pulled the car off the side of the freeway, then drove down an embankment and straight into the desert. I’d never in my life been too angry to drive, but I could barely see the road through a haze of rage. I kicked the door open and jumped out. Dirt and sagebrush cracked and ground beneath my boots. My hands clenched on my hips.

I’d trusted him. I’d negotiated for his freedom. And when I’d needed him most, he hadn’t come through. He’d left me on the cold concrete in the basement. And while he’d said that nothing had changed… A thought went through my mind and I nearly choked on my next breath. Nothing had changed for him because he’d always considered me a throwaway, a toy.

Fuck. Him.

I glared at the handle to the back door. The Bradigan rumbled, its profile mean and strong. It was a great vampire vehicle. Two rows of seats in the back, wrapped in metal and insulation. Double-pane glass tinted almost opaque, with a thin layer of woven lead in between. It boasted the finest in sun safety insulation. But the door could still be opened. I could be rid of that handsome bastard who’d allowed this to happen to me and then laughed. This wasn’t Chev’s territory. She wouldn’t do anything. Bronson liked me better than Mal. He wouldn’t fucking care, I’d bet. All I had to do was open the door and let the sun burn him to ash. Then the car would be perfect.

I walked back, my anger quiet now, simmering in anticipation. The handle grew larger and larger until my fingertips brushed it. They were pale against that matte dark finish. It would take so little effort. I didn’t have to have a vampire’s strength. I didn’t need to rely on anyone else. I could simply end him and walk away from this pain that had nothing to do with what had happened to me and everything to do with what he was doing to me. I could find someone more powerful than him to take care of me, and life would be good.

I frowned. That wasn’t right. I wasn’t going to replace one vampire with another. I didn’t want another vampire. I didn’t even like them. I’d only ever wanted him.

“Remember who’s in here with me,” Malcolm said. “Remember that I’m not your only cargo.”

His voice was muffled but I heard each word distinctly. And there was no influence, none of the chill scratch of glamour against my mind. He wasn’t trying to push me. There was fear, though, but it wasn’t Mal’s. His energy was pulled tight. But Soraya, she was radiating, spewing terror. Because she’d been trapped and threatened with daylight. An inhumane treatment, no matter who it had come from. And now I was doing the same to her.

I snatched my hand away from the door. My darkened reflection in the window looked shocked. The wind kicked up, stirring dust and rolling small rocks along the parched ground. I looked around, my senses waking abruptly as the anger dimmed.

Cars slowed as they passed us on the freeway. My tire tracks were deep and erratic. The door I’d left open was chiming patiently.

All I had been doing was driving. Nothing about that should have been disorienting. Nothing about it should have made me want to murder the only man I’d ever loved. I shivered, cold even though it still had to be over ninety degrees out.

“I’ll get us back on the road,” I murmured, climbing mechanically back into my seat. I flexed my hands before placing them on the steering wheel. Red dust smudged the leather and I rubbed my palms against my thighs. “It’s going to be a little bumpy.”

W
e reached
the Sunset Strip a few hours after nightfall, the vampires a chill pressure in the back of my mind. I couldn’t ditch them and split. If I kept driving, eventually I’d run out of gas and they could drag me out. Even through the filter, the air tasted weird. But at least the traffic was terrible. Too angry to deal with stop-and-go traffic, I parked in a lot four blocks from our destination. I’d barely shut off the Bradigan when the vampires tumbled out. Soraya disappeared, flitting away from my senses immediately. It would have been a relief if she hadn’t left a trail of disgust behind her.

I shoved open the door and dropped out, my body stiffening as I waited for Mal to lay into me. He stood a few feet away, between the Bradigan and a Porsche Cayenne, between me and the road. His anger filled the cramped space. The light overhead popped and went out. When he spoke, I flinched, one arm shooting up to block him.

“You should have parked closer,” he said mildly, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“When it’s your turn to drive,” I said, nerves making my voice bounce, “we’ll let you pick the parking spot.”

“We’re abducting someone. It’s too far to carry him.”

“I’m sure Thurston can do it if you’re not feeling strong enough.” It shouldn’t take more than a nudge to push him over the edge into his anger. The sooner he got it out of his system, the sooner I could move on. Hopefully.

He took a step toward me and I winced. Sweat trickled down my spine and each breath came hard and fast.

“Sydney.”

“Just do whatever you’re going to do,” I ground out.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re pissed—”

“You think I’m mad at you?” He grabbed hold of my chin, his other hand gripping the back of my head when I struggled. He gave a frustrated snarl when tears leaked out of my eyes. His head tipped forward until his forehead rested against mine. His chest heaved a couple of times before he went still.

“Baby, I’m furious,” he murmured. “But I’m not mad at you.” His hands gentled. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me close. I touched his arm tentatively and the muscle bunched beneath his jacket. His energy wound out of him, dense and warm, and threaded around me. A heavy buzz filled my head, making my eyelids droop closed and turning my muscles loose and languid.

“Everything in the card room,” he said, “that was for them. I didn’t mean it.”

I opened my eyes as the lethargy vanished. He was lying. Maybe it wasn’t a full-blown lie, but enough of it was untrue that the statement was tainted.

“We have to go.” I pulled back, extracting myself from his arms.

“Sydney…”

I held up a hand. “Not now. We have something to do.”

Thurston stood on the sidewalk and gave me a questioning look when I pushed past Mal. People walked the streets, most of them dressed for clubbing. They didn’t pay any attention to me, but Malcolm got a few looks. Soraya rejoined us before we’d reached the first vampire club. Her face was blank, and she seemed to have shed the feelings that had been flooding from her in the car.

“Describe the target,” Soraya said, sounding downright tactical. I used that as inspiration. Time to be professional. I could do that. I just had to avoid looking at Mal, had to ignore the energy that stretched between us.

“He’s about five foot eight,” I said, “maybe a hundred and fifty pounds. Caucasian. Straight brown hair that’s so long in front that it looks like he shouldn’t be able to see where he’s going. Glasses with thin dark rims. Late twenties to midthirties. Has an off-kilter geek thing going on. Will probably have a satchel or backpack with him.” There was something else about Kevin, but I couldn’t quite remember. A mole or a birthmark or a foot fetish or something.

“And this is the individual who spread terror throughout Santiago,” Mal said, all scornful arrogance. So he was wearing his business face, too. “Five foot eight. Glasses.”

“Sometimes bad things come in small packages.”

The clubs lining the street weren’t yet doing much action. Until we reached the first sucker spot. The bouncer ignored me but decided to step up to Soraya. She demonstrated her appreciation of that action by walking over him, literally. An extended leg, a twist of her hip, and he was on the ground. I skirted his stunned body, trying through elaborate gestures to show him I was sorry as he stared up at us.

“We’re trying to maintain a low profile here,” I said as I caught up to her halfway down the loud metal stairs. “We want to catch this guy, not scare him off.”

Soraya’s brow crinkled. “Who’s being scary?”

“Just…low profile. Stick to the plan. Get in. Ask around until we find out where he is. Take him. Get out.” And turn him over to the male who’d requested him.

“The plan requires the opposite of subtlety.” Mal popped his top two buttons and shed his jacket. He offered his hand.

“Sora can go with you. Thurston and I w—”

The other two swept past and shoved through the door before disappearing into the writhing crowd.

“Looks like it’s you and me.” Mal smiled.

“We’ll cover more ground if we split up,” I muttered after the retreating backs of the traitors. Couldn’t they see that Mal was off?

I ground my teeth and caught the door before it closed and stepped into an underground club as alive as the topside ones were dead. It was amazing that so many people were allowed in such a small space, or maybe vampires didn’t count toward fire code limits since they were undead. There were a lot of suckers, one to every three humans, the highest ratio I’d ever seen outside a blood lounge. It was a smallish club, a single square room illuminated by globed gas lamps. The music, which hadn’t been audible from the curb, consisted of a chick with a small drum kit, a skinny tuxedo-clad guy with a cello, and a slinky singer with a smooth, low voice. Predictably, she was warbling about dark hungers and anything that rhymed with them.

Malcolm’s arm snaked around my waist as he hauled me into the crowd. His grip tightened when I tried to shrug him off, and the glare I tossed at him only earned me a grin.

“Sit,” he said when we reached the bar.

“I’m fine.” I tapped the stool. “Why don’t you sit? You were hitting it pretty hard earlier.”

He braced his hands against the bar on either side of me and lowered his head.

“We’re here for information and you’re destroying my street cred.”

“You want everyone here to think you’re a dog trainer?”

A smile played over his lips. He didn’t look like he’d been ten sheets to the wind a few hours ago. He looked good, his eyes dark whiskey, the beginnings of stubble shading the strong line of his jaw. I’d missed him. Not the bastard he’d been all day. This version of him. Except that this version, the nice version, was a liar.

“They believe that dominance equals strength.”

“And it doesn’t?” I clenched my hands together to keep from touching him. I needed more from him first, confirmation that he wasn’t going to keep stinging me.

“Strength equals strength. Intelligence. Foresight. Understanding that you’re willing to give one ounce more than your opponent, even if it’s the last ounce. All these things contribute. Posturing only gains you a foothold over the weak or weak-minded.” His eyes flashed as they roved over me before focusing on my own. “Sit. Please.”

I sat, and he slid with me so that I never left the protection of his arms. I felt strangely out of my depth, overwhelmed by his size and the intensity of his presence, in a way I’d never before been.

“You’re sexy when you’re philosophical. Also good is you not being drunk and a dick.”

“Did my behavior in the card room upset you?”

I bared my teeth. “You know it did.”

“Then why didn’t you say so at the time?” He wrapped his hands around mine, now fisted in my lap.

“Maybe I only like to make a fool of myself in public places once a week.”

His hands tightened before he withdrew them and leaned against the bar.

“Kevin,” he said, changing tack as he surveyed the floor. “Will he have followers? Acolytes?”

“Do you have any food?” I asked a passing bartender, trying to give myself a moment to cool down and think. He dumped a handful of maraschino cherries into a glass, then slid it toward me and turned away.

“You’re finally hungry,” Malcolm said as he surveyed the floor.

“Starving.” I bit a cherry from the stem. “He talked about having regulars, but I think he meant customers.”

“And he was there, when Abel took you.”

“He showed up later.” Another bartender arrived to take our drinks. I ordered a Guinness. That was probably more of a meal than the little sugar bombs I was eating. Malcolm waved him away. “Overindulged, did you?”

“Bronson bid me to share a few bottles with him before sending me to interrogate Antonelli.”

“Huh.”

“I’ll burn through it soon. I would have already if I’d fed.”

With Chastity there at the ready, he hadn’t fed? “Then maybe you should. It would be nice if you were fully functional.”

“You did so well earlier,” he said. His gaze wandered slowly over my face, his eyes lightening. “When he confronted you.”

My eyes dropped as I concentrated on breathing, on quelling the panic constricting me from the throat down. It had hurt, seeing Abel, hearing his voice. Darkness clouded my peripheral vision and started to close in.

“Christ.” One hand massaged the back of my neck while the other arm wrapped around my ribs. “Breathe, Syd. Breathe. You’re here.”

Shallow, difficult breaths evened out until I was able to inhale deeply again. My senses twisted back to normal, but I didn’t pull away, instead breathing Malcolm in, absorbing the comfort of his arms. How could something so right still feel so off? He pushed my beer into my hand, then released me and turned to face the club.

“I need to powder my nose.” And splash some cold water on my face, and maybe kick something. I tumbled off the stool and aimed for the back hallway.

Most of the vampires were clumped together, hubs of weak undead surrounded by human spokes. Some of the spokes were familiar: actors and major league athletes and those hangers-on who didn’t seem to do anything other than get their pictures taken around such people. Vampires were no strangers to money and the Hollywood set was flush with it. I wondered how proficient at hiding bite marks you had to be to make it as a makeup artist in Hollywood.

“Your quarry comes here often,” Soraya said as she appeared next to me at the bathroom sink. I jumped, water flapping off my hands onto her. She wiped her face. “His presence is usually preceded by an influx of vampires.”

“He’s some kind of celebrity?” I dried my hands, then tweaked the strap of my bag.

“They say he deals in Fun, Serenity, and Red Desire.” If you could roll your eyes without rolling your eyes, that’s what Soraya did.

“Dealers love catchy names.”

If they were all powered by the blood of Puer Morsus, where was he getting it from? Even if Bronson was right and there were others like me, how could Kevin know? Unless he knew how to test for it. He’d said Goya tested extensively. If he knew what he was looking for, he could single out samples, find subjects. Vampire blood was back, so there were more people like me. Ten pints of profit per person.

“Hey.” A girl wandered up, nervously tugging at the ends of her long red hair. “You ladies looking for a third dance partner?”

I blinked, then realized I was huddled in the corner of a bathroom with a beautiful vampiress who wasn’t even attempting to hide what she was.

“No, thanks.”

The girl ignored me and stared at Soraya like she’d never heard of vampire etiquette. Or maybe she didn’t care about falling under thrall.

“What about you?” she asked, breathless and big-eyed. “Wanna trade up? I’m good.” She pulled her hair back, revealing three sets of bite marks, none very old. Soraya surveyed her as though she were actually interested. Ew.

“I am pleased with the bounty I have.”

“I can offer you more than blood.” The girl cocked her hip and trailed her fingers toward her cleavage. Soraya’s arm landed on my shoulders, then tightened when I tried to squirm away.

“This human is more than sufficient to quell my raging appetites for blood and sex and…more sex.” The vampiress pushed me toward the door, and I nearly ran headfirst into it as I bent over, caging my laughter. Sora grinned for a half second before closing her expressions.

“You make the creepiest fucking dance partner,” I said. We headed for the bar. I wiped tears from my eyes and, when they were clear, found myself looking at Malcolm, who was draped in women.

“Remember why we are here,” Soraya said lightly. “This is as painful for him as it is for you.”

A woman leaned against him, her barely covered breasts pushing up against his chest, her head tipped back to expose her neck at an alluring angle. We must have experienced pain in different ways. I headed for the bar, then veered off. The patrons, those not actively ordering drinks, were all facing outward. Wide-eyed, glassy-eyed, starry-eyed, they were here for the suckers. No wonder vampires didn’t scoot to the frozen nether parts of the world where they could exist in the safety of darkness. Who could leave an entire species of adoring fans that also happened to be their food? And why would a vampire ever settle down with this…buffet available?

Irritated, and irritated at my irritation, I roamed the club. Half the guys in the place had Kevin’s haircut, but searching for him was a Goldilocksian adventure. This one’s too tall. That one’s too pale. This one is drinking a cosmo and forgot to do up his fly when he came out of the bathroom. Nobody was just right.

From across the room, Thurston signaled me. I pushed through the crowd, ignoring the human frowns and inquisitive tendrils of vampire power. My ability to sense them had been muted since yesterday, until Bronson had jump-started me. I was sensitive now, each chill brush feeling like the scrape of an icy claw. Even Malcolm had felt distant, but that wasn’t all me. He’d been holding back. I snuck another glance at him. He unleashed a smile full of charm and hints of sensual possibility, and the people around him—human and vampire—collectively swayed toward him.