Night Runner: Falling From The Light Part 22

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 s.e.xy when you're philosophical. Also good is you not being drunk and a d.i.c.k."

"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 pa.s.sing bartender, trying to give myself a moment to cool down and think. He dumped a handful of maraschino cherries into a gla.s.s, 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 Chast.i.ty 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 ma.s.saged 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 c.o.c.ked 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 appet.i.tes for blood and s.e.x and...more s.e.x." 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 f.u.c.king 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 b.r.e.a.s.t.s 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, gla.s.sy-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. n.o.body 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 sc.r.a.pe 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.

I hadn't liked him allowing Chast.i.ty to sit on his lap, had hated the fact that his hands had been on her. So why hadn't I said anything then? It wasn't as if I was known for my tact or restraint.

"What about this one?" Thurston said. He inclined his head and I followed the direction of his gaze to a guy in stiff, dark jeans and a designer track jacket. The gla.s.ses were right, but the gap teeth weren't. My head started to ache.

"No."

"There's another," he said, leading me toward the far corner. As I pa.s.sed, a tall blond vampire in a black V-neck shirt leaned down and inhaled audibly.

"Suck it," I snarled. He laughed and reached for me. Thurston intercepted the guy's hand. Twisting it into an unnatural angle, he shoved it back at him. In the right hands, bones are so delicate. Abel's voice in my head. The memory of his fingers digging into the sides of my neck, his palm pressing against my throat. His other hand on my wrist, twisting, twisting. Will you do what I've asked, Sydney, or should I break something else?

I stumbled into a heavily cologned man forlornly holding the muddled green remains of a mojito.

"Did he touch you?" Thurston asked, looking me over.

"No." I shook my head and folded my arms across my stomach. "I'm fine. Keep looking."

I was beginning to think that Kevin was never coming, that we were out of luck, when Thurston tapped my arm and pointed toward a well-lit spot beside the door. And there he was, in a gray windbreaker with a high, banded collar. He was laughing at something a man-no, a vampire-beside him said. Like he didn't have a care in the world. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

"That's him," I said, shaking my head in disbelief. It took a moment for my whirling thoughts to land, then I scanned the crowd. Soraya was on the other side of the club, sitting at one of the high tables off the dance floor.

"I will find Mr. Kelly," Thurston said, for once sounding energized.

I kept my head down and aimed for Soraya. I reached her as Kevin made it to the bar. He signaled the bartender but the crowd was thirsty. He'd be there awhile. Good.

"He's here," I said. Soraya turned, her eyes brightening as she slipped off her stool.

"You're sure?" she asked.

"It's not a face I'd forget," I said through clenched teeth. She nodded, glancing around before narrowing her gaze on Kevin. Swallowing, I rocked back on my heels. I wouldn't ever want to get between her and her prey.

"I'll keep him there until we've cleared a path," she said. "We'll go out the back door. Wait beside it."

I scanned the room again, but caught no sign of Mal. Apologizing in rhythm with my steps, I pushed through the crowd until it thinned. I pa.s.sed the bathrooms and turned the corner to find a set of metal stairs leading up to an exit.

For a disorienting second, I thought Malcolm had gone outside, the feel of him was so strong there. Then I spotted him on the other side of the stairs. His broad back was to me and perfectly still, and his hand held Thurston's head to the side. Thurston was pressed back against the wall, his eyes closed. A deep line creased his forehead between his heavy brows, and his fangs stretched out of his open mouth to press divots into his lower lip. His body jerked, and Malcolm's hand tightened until his thumb pressed a white patch into the other vampire's jaw. Thurston grabbed his shoulder, wrapping his fist in the fabric of Mal's jacket.

I'd never seen him feed before.

I glanced nervously over my shoulder, not that anyone was nearby. When I looked back, Malcolm had stepped away. He slid two fingers across his lower lip, and I couldn't take my eyes off his mouth. My pulse quickened when his eyes caught mine.

"Kevin's here," I said pointlessly.

Thurston rolled his neck, then pulled his collar closed. His demeanor was completely normal.

"Good." Mal straightened his shirt and came to stand in front of me. "Are you all right?"

I nodded jerkily. His lips were red and slightly swollen, and his energy was a smooth ripple that seemed to amplify when it hit my body. On impulse, I rose on my toes and kissed him. For a moment, he didn't react except to go stiller. And then he tilted his head, improving the angle. His hands framed my face and a sound escaped me, delight and desire combined.

He pulled away too soon. I licked my lips, expecting the copper tang of blood and getting nothing but a concentrated dose of him.

"Let's take him before this gets any more complicated," he said, steering me away when he turned.

"What's the hurry?"

"I'm sorry you had to see that." He inclined his head in one of those antiquated gestures that escaped him occasionally. They were adorable. I threaded my fingers through his.

"You don't have to insulate me, you know. You're drinking. It's necessary, not some diabolical s.h.i.t that you decided on for yourself." I wanted him to trust me, needed him to know that I could handle anything. "And it's not like you're ever going to do anything worse than what you've seen me do in the last day." I twisted my arm until our hands fit as tightly together as they could, and stared down at them.

"That's temporary." His voice was rough. "You're recovering. I won't."

"And I know that." I met his eyes. "Can't you trust me to know all of you?"

"Syd." He shook his head as though denying a thought, then extracted his hand.

Soraya appeared. "The human has moved into a booth. Customers are beginning to approach him. How do you want to do this?"

"I'll present myself as a buyer. You two clear a path." Mal's face transformed into a smooth, gorgeous mask. "Syd, if you'd be so kind as to pull the car around?"

I went out the back door and autopiloted myself to the parking lot. I moved slowly, wrapping my arms around my middle even though it wasn't cold. My arms ached. My sides ached. Frustration wormed along my spine. He was hiding things from me, hiding himself. He wasn't supposed to do that.

Chapter Nineteen.

"They're adjacent, but one's a handicap-accessible room," the motel clerk said. I nodded like that was no big deal, but in the mirror behind him my eyes were big as moons. I'd never kidnapped anyone before. He slid the keys across the counter. Not key cards. Not big, fat works of art like at Tenth World. Just pieces of metal on grungy plastic tabs. I signed a carbon copy agreement with a fake name. Hopefully the beds didn't revolve or vibrate or anything. It was that kind of a motel.

I steered the Bradigan around to the back, hating the way the engine faltered. The vampire-proofing had gotten us to LA and part of the way back, but the amount of insulation crammed into the SUV was no match for the power bouncing around inside of it, especially now that my traveling companions were aggravated. So we were at a roadside motel, in the wee hours of the morning, in a surprisingly humid southern Mojave Desert. I backed up to the motel, to the door at the end of the row. Freeway traffic whizzed by on the other side of a few scrawny pines. Someone a few rooms down had their window open and their TV on h.e.l.la loud. Hopefully it would cover us.

Malcolm, Soraya, and Thurston rolled out of the car. Soraya checked the rooms while I popped the tailgate. Thurston pulled Kevin's p.r.o.ne body out of the cramped s.p.a.ce and carried him into the room on the end.

"You should get something to eat," Malcolm said.

"Yep. Yeah." I nodded vigorously, staring at the closed door. They'd whisked him out of the club and jammed him into the back of the Bradigan so quickly that I'd barely seen him. But now we were stuck until Petr could send another vehicle. In the meantime they would interrogate him. My head hurt, a sudden, crunching pain that rolled my stomach.

I jerked when Mal touched me.

"And water. I'm not sure we should trust what's running in these pipes. Syd?"

"Sure."

"Do you remember the number Petr gave you?" His voice was so carefully even, it could have been covering anything. He'd never confide in me if he thought I couldn't handle something like this. I straightened.

"Of course."

"Are you tired? Why don't you lie down? I'll take care of this."

"Yeah, right. Even I know the sun's about to rise." I shook myself. I wasn't going to let him expose himself to daylight because I had a headache, no matter how things were between us.

"I'll be back soon." I climbed stiffly into the car.

Two blocks away, I coasted into the parking lot of a gas station and lurched to a stop. At least we hadn't tried to make it to Phoenix or the vampires would have been trapped in the car under the scorching sun. Mickey said the vamp vehicles had built-in releases so that, barring an onslaught of energy, small parts gave out before the entire machine was compromised. That made me feel slightly less awful about killing such a beautiful vehicle.

From a pay phone, I called the number I'd been given and left a message describing the exit and motel. A couple of aspirin and a bottle of water later, I felt a little better. The sun rose as I walked back to the motel, a crinkly bag of snacks, candles, and toiletries swinging from my hand.

The building was two stories, with sun-bleached orange metal pipes supporting the outdoor walkway of the second floor. The concrete was covered in plasticky green indoor/outdoor carpet. In the soft glow of the rising sun, it looked whimsical. In broad daylight, it was probably hideous. I slowed as I turned the last corner. The back of my neck p.r.i.c.kled and I glanced back twice, but there was nothing suspicious, only a crumbling cement wall that once upon a time was intended to be decorative.

Our rooms were quiet, not that I was expecting a commotion. With three vampires exerting influence, Kevin wouldn't be able to make a sound until they decided he should, if he was conscious yet. That should have upset me, but there were worse things in the world than these undead and Kevin had chosen to work for one of those things.

I unlocked the second door from the end. Threadbare carpet and two double beds with cheerful, scratchy polyester bedspreads greeted me. Blowing out a breath, I closed the door, and hooked the chain, then pulled off one of the bedspreads to fortify the curtains. The other bedspread secured the crack at the bottom of the door, and the bathroom didn't have a window to the outside world. There. As secure as I could make it.

Voices carried from the other room, Malcolm's and then Soraya's. Kevin's groggy response sent fragmented memories pouring through my head. How cute it was when we'd bartered snacks in the break room at Goya. How scared I was for him when he showed up in Abel's bas.e.m.e.nt, followed by the raw realization that he wasn't a prisoner.