Kissed by Darkness (9 page)

I edged the pantry door open and stuck my eye to the crack. Darroch’s kitchen was truly impressive with dark granite counter tops, rich wood cabinets and enough stainless steel to build a skyscraper. It was also empty. I slid out of the pantry and into the kitchen keeping my eyes peeled for Darroch or one of his goons, ah, bodyguards.

There were several doors leading off the kitchen. The first one led into a large family room with a glass door leading to the patio. It was dark and empty like the rest of the house. Another door led straight out into the backyard. And behind door number three? I found a short hallway with a staircase leading up.

I’d gotten the distinct impression on my last visit that the downstairs office was just for show. You know, the sort of place you jammed full of expensive furniture and fancy doodahs and only cleaned when you had someone you wanted to intimidate. I mean impress. The real important stuff was somewhere else and that amulet was nothing if not extremely important to Darroch, so I headed up the staircase.

In my experience, most people kept personal stuff as close to their personal space as possible. And there was nothing quite as personal as one’s bedroom.

I’d just found what had to be Darroch’s bedroom and had started poking around when I heard a car pull into the drive. I froze as I heard the car door slam, then I tiptoed to the bedroom door, debating whether or not to head back down to the pantry, before I realized there was no time. Whoever it was already had a key in the front door and the stairs, unfortunately, could be clearly seen by anyone entering the house from the front. I stepped back out of the line of sight.

The front door opened and I heard the unmistakable voice of my client. Even worse, he was headed up the stairs toward the bedroom. Damn.

Not good. Oh, so very not good. Not only would Darroch probably have me arrested, but Kabita would be seriously pissed off. Darroch gave me the heebie-jeebies, but I’d seen Kabita pissed off before and she scared me to death.

Kabita was not the type of person to get all mad and stomp around, issuing threats. Kabita was the type of person to go completely cold and still and then murder you in your sleep. She believed actions spoke louder than words. She’d be right.

A quick glance around the room gave me two options: the closet or under the bed. I opted for under the bed. With my luck, he’d head straight for the closet. I doubted he spent much time hanging around under the bed. I shimmied under just in time for Darroch to walk through the bedroom door. There was only one set of feet in shiny black shoes, so I figured he was on his cell phone.

“Listen, Kaldan, I don’t pay you to make excuses. I pay you to do what I tell you. What I told you was to have her followed, not have your idiot flunky attack her.” He paused, obviously listening to this Kaldan person.

Whatever Kaldan said really pissed Darroch off because he started screaming into his phone. “Listen, you idiot, I don’t care if he was starving to death! Her blood is not to be taken! He was to follow, not attack … I don’t fucking care … You know what, Kaldan? Deal with the problem or I will!”

I was getting a really bad feeling about this. I’d been attacked last night by a vampire who’d tried to take my blood. The only Kaldan I knew about was the head of one of the local vampire clans, Terrance’s master. From the sounds of things, Darroch had hired Kaldan to have me followed. Fortunately it didn’t appear he wanted me killed, but that was just rude. Not good, very not good.

While Darroch continued yelling into his phone, I tried to think. Why would my client have me followed? I could see him maybe wanting to make sure he got the amulet back once I found it, but according to Jack, Darroch already had the amulet, so it couldn’t be that. The only other thing I could think of was that Darroch wanted me to lead him to the Sunwalker. The Sunwalker he’d hired me to kill. Either he didn’t trust me, which was understandable since I was currently lying under his bed and therefore not exactly trustworthy, or there was a lot more going on here than I knew. I was voting for the latter.

Now how to get out of here? Preferably without getting caught.

Fortunately my opportunity came a few minutes later when Darroch, still screaming into his cell, strode into the en suite bathroom and slammed the door so hard I thought it’d fall off its hinges. Fantastic. I rolled out from under the bed and scurried for the door. A quick peek into the hall showed all clear, so I hurried down the stairs. Still no sign of Darroch’s minions, so rather than try for the pantry and its tiny window, I headed straight to the front door and walked right outside, bold as brass.

One of Darroch’s neighbors was taking his garbage out. The guy was about eighty and peered at me suspiciously through the thick lenses of his glasses. I nodded, smiled and gave him a little wave. He smiled back and gave me a salute. When in doubt, act like you belong.

I decided to skip a run-in with Kabita and headed home. I was in serious need of some sleep and I really didn’t want to spend the next hour arguing.

***

White knuckled hands gripped the smooth railing as I gazed out over the sparkling city below. The spire of the Great Library, the tallest building in the world, glowed red and gold in the afternoon sun. The Dome of Enlightenment sparkled in blues and silvers below, beckoning those who saw it to enter and partake of its serenity.

This city stood for millennia first on our home world, and then here on this beautiful new planet when our own suns died. It had been a beacon of enlightenment in an uncivilized universe, but now … This was the end of it, then. The end of all things, for both the City and for the people of Atlantis.

I whirled from the railing, stalking back into the temple, the marble floor cold beneath my thin silken shoes, robes swirling around my ankles. Something must be done. Something would be done. Saving the treasure of my people for a future generation was paramount. Surely there was some way to ensure survival? A way to stop the madness?

I paced wildly, clenching my hands together, willing my shattered mind to pray. How could we have known that a tiny little infection would turn the most peaceful race on the planet into mindless, bloodthirsty beasts, impossible to cure or to kill? We would destroy all of human kind, if I didn’t do something. A paradise planet turned to a wasteland.

It was only a matter of time before the sickness reached the temple and the priests and priestesses succumbed, the royal family along with them. As the last High Priest of Atlantis, I would be the last to fall. I was, after all, the strongest, chosen as a conduit for the gods. The energy that flowed through me, as it flowed through the City of Atlantis, would protect me. For a time.

I scrubbed a weary hand across my face. What to do? How to save all the good that was Atlantis? How to save a remnant of the Atlantean people, the last of our kind in existence?

A thought came to me. There was, perhaps, a chance. I strode across the room, purpose flooding my veins.

“Send me Varan.” The young acolyte bowed and hurried out of the room. Our only chance for success lay in the half-breed children Atlantis had born. They alone were immune to the sickness, both the ravening disease that struck Atlanteans, and the Nightwalker sickness that struck humans. Even our greatest physicians did not know where the disease had come from, or the reason for the immunity of the half-human children, but it might prove our salvation, and that of the human race. There was only one member of the Royal Bloodline who possessed both Atlantean and human blood.

My thoughts were distracted by the chinking of armor and the scent of well-oiled leather. The man who entered was a warrior through and through, every inch of his armor polished and gleaming, eyes constantly alert, ready for anything. Even at so young an age, he was already the First Warrior of all the Warrior Priests of Atlantis. A son to make a father proud.

“Ah, Varan.” I gave the young warrior a strained smile. “I have need of you and your men.”

Varan bowed, crossing his right arm over his chest, fist pressing against heart. “As my lord wishes, so shall it be.” His right hand dropped to clench the hilt of a blood stained sword
.

***

I jerked awake to a room flooded with sunlight. Not another crazy dream. They were getting all too frequent. First some guy digging in the dirt and now this.

I frowned. The guy digging in the dirt felt familiar. Not just because in my dream I’d been the guy, though that was weird enough on its own. No, it felt like I knew him, as though I’d seen him before. Except I hadn’t. Had I?

I slid out of bed and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. A knight digging in the dirt. A priest worried about some kind of plague. I’d been the knight and I’d been the priest, at least within the dreams. They were connected somehow, only I couldn’t figure out how.

I shook my head. They’d felt real, but surely they were just dreams. They had to be just dreams.

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. It was past time to pay the piper. I’d have to tell Kabita about my meeting with the Sunwalker — Jack — and my nighttime foray into Darroch’s house. She was so not going to be pleased.

I decided to take the coward’s way out and call her. She answered on the third ring.

“Uh, morning Kabita,” I winced. I sounded guilty. “Thought I’d catch you up on the Darroch case.”

“Great, he’s been asking for an update.”

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath. “You’re not going to like this.”

***

I was right. She didn’t like it. Not one bit. In fact, she was seriously pissed, and not in the English way. In the very American way. Though, it being Kabita, there wasn’t a lot of yelling, just a lot of deadly silence and very pointed “Ohs” and “Ums” which was worse. A lot worse.

“I don’t even know why you took this guy on.” I paced back and forth, flailing my free arm wildly. It’s what I did, especially when I was having an agitated phone conversation which included me having to justify myself for having done something
really
stupid. Like breaking into our client’s house in the middle of the night. “He’s creepy. And there’s just something off about him. Then there’s the whole amulet thing. I’m not sure he told us the truth about that.”

“And you’re going to take the word of this … Sunwalker … that our client is lying?”

“Oh, come on, Kabita. There was the picture! Plus, Darroch has given me the creeps since the minute I met him, long before I met Jack Keel. Did you meet him in person? Darroch, I mean?” The pause on the other end of the line was just a little too long. “You didn’t! I knew it!” I was practically jumping up and down in sheer delight. Then a thought occurred to me. “Why didn’t you?”

Kabita always, always met with the clients in person. She was very careful about the sort of jobs we took on and the people we worked for. The government required us to take on certain tasks for them, but the rest of the jobs and clients were up to us.

She let out a long sigh. “He came recommended. Highly recommended.”

My eyes narrowed. Normally, that wasn’t enough. Recommended or not, Kabita always checked out the clients in depth. The recommendation must have been very high, indeed. “Who recommended him?”

“My government contact.” Which essentially meant her handler and therefore, by extension, my handler. Being the independent woman I was, the whole idea of having a “handler” had always rubbed me the wrong way. It just wasn’t right.

The US government may have publicly denied the existence of vampires, demons, dragons, and the whole lot of other supposedly mythological creatures, but in reality they were very aware of just what having a bunch of monsters on the loose would mean to society. Which was why they’d set up a very special branch called the Supernatural Regulatory Agency and hid it deep inside the US Environmental Protection Agency.

I know, I know, it sounded completely ridiculous. Originally, the SRA was run by the US Military, but the president at the time didn’t much like that. Plus it was all too obvious and conspiracy laden. The newly forming EPA was gods sent. Since there wasn’t enough local talent, they imported people from Europe.

People like Kabita who killed the monsters for a living. In practice they pretended we didn’t exist, but in reality they pretty much paid our livelihoods with the understanding that once in a while they got to call on us for special jobs.

“Are you telling me the
government
wants Jack dead?” Not the Sunwalker. Jack. He was becoming real to me now, a person like Inigo or Kabita or Cordelia. So not good.

“No,” she snapped, “I’m telling you that Brent Darroch has friends in high places. Very high places. He called in a favor.”

Great. That meant we were that favor. It also meant Kabita hadn’t asked any questions. When the government was involved, asking questions wasn’t particularly good for the health. It also meant that Darroch was a lot better connected than I thought. This could get a bit hairy.

“Listen, Morgan. Just do your job, OK? Dust this Sunwalker, get the amulet, and everybody goes home happy.”

Except for the Sunwalker. I doubt he’d be thrilled with the plan. And me. I wasn’t happy with the whole thing anymore, either. Something felt so off about it all, but Kabita wasn’t in a listening mood. This government contact obviously had her between the proverbial rock and hard place. Just what that rock and hard place involved was a question for another time, but you’d better believe I planned to find out.

“I don’t think it’s going to be as easy to dust this guy as we thought.” Maybe I could throw her off for a while. Give me some time to figure things out.

Her voice was diamond hard. “Are you telling me you can’t do your job?”

“No, not at all. I’m just saying it’s not going to be your routine hunt. This isn’t like killing a vampire. It may take some time to figure out his … vulnerabilities. Not to mention figuring out where he’s stashed the amulet.”