This Blackened Night (3 page)

Outside, she balked.

Terrence rounded on her. “Lori, trust me. You did once.”

“Why should I?” Clearly, that had been a mistake. “That was before you…before I knew…” The words clotted in her throat. She couldn’t complete the sentence.

“I’m not guilty.” Before she launched into the tirade dangling from the tip of her tongue, Terrence held up a hand. “I know what you saw. It wasn’t me.”

Lori crossed her arms. Sarcasm dripped from her tongue. “Then who was it? Your evil twin?”

Terrence shifted from foot to foot. He avoided her gaze. “Look. I have a lead. I want you to come with me.”

“Why?” So he could lead her in more circles?

“So I’ll know you’re safe.”

Lori stifled a roll of her eyes. She didn’t believe him. But…if she went along with his plans, maybe she could discover the Spenta Michos’s location. She had a lead now. A strong one.

“Fine,” she said. “Where do I have to go?”

* * * *

The very next day, Lori found herself trundled onto a bus bound for the coast. For once, Terrence wasn’t with her. He’d arranged to meet her at a hotel.

How would he get there? Fly? She swallowed. He was a vampire–God only knew what he could do.

The bus pulled to a stop just as the sun set. Lori’s skin crawled as she stood in line to retrieve her over-the-shoulder bag from the underbelly of the bus. As soon as she could, she extricated herself from the stale sweaty scent of the other passengers. She peered down the thriving city street, hoping she wouldn’t have to ask someone for directions. There–
The Mastiff Hotel
. The sign loomed just down from the bus station. Resettling her bag on her shoulder, Lori strode toward it.

Doubts assailed her. What if Terrence had only asked her here to separate her from those she knew? Was she walking into a trap?

The hotel glass doors showed a lobby decked out in welcoming blue. Like the ocean. But somehow, even those soothing tones didn’t invite her in. Maybe she should go back.

What would happen to the Spenta Michos if she did? Even if this was a trap, Lori had to march into the lion’s den. Squaring her shoulders, she marshaled her courage. She would do whatever was necessary to save the Spenta Michos. Afterward, she would deal with the consequences. She’d been through a lot, and hadn’t cracked yet.

Someone touched her shoulder.

Swallowing a scream–and half her tongue–Lori glanced behind. Into Terrence’s vivid blue eyes.

He steered her down the street. “Come on.”

Lori balked. “Where are we going? I thought you said we’d be staying at the Mastiff.”

Terrence kept his gaze fixed to the street ahead of them. His eyes darted as he scanned the thinning crowd. His mouth looked as stiff as granite.

“Wrong,” he answered. “I said I’d meet you at the Mastiff.”

“Then where are we going?”

The docks loomed ahead. People teemed, running back and forth with seemingly no organization. Terrence pointed at one bobbing boat. A lick of dread tickled Lori’s stomach. Just where was he leading her?

“I’m not exactly a fan of fish.” Lori tried for a joking tone, but her voice came out strained instead.

He readjusted his hand on her back. She wore a thin leather jacket, but felt the weight of his touch. Her body relaxed in spite of herself. Terrence had been her constant companion for too long. His touch was familiar, but at the same time unsettling. Would he pretend nothing had changed between them? Not that she considered them intimate, but they had been friendly. Even if he denied her accusations, Lori didn’t trust him. How could she? Her vision had told her otherwise.

Terrence leaned down, his warm breath caressing her ear. “Don’t worry. I won’t let us sink.”

Just how did he think that was within his power?

The closer they marched to the boat, the more apprehensive Lori became. She’d never been at sea before, and the vehicle seemed to have been running for far longer than she cared to estimate. The name of the ship,
The Marauder
was nearly scrubbed out and caked over with brine. The small boat lurched from a sudden wave caused by a departing ship.

Lori balked. It didn’t look sturdy.

Terrence ushered her closer. “Relax. This is the only way to get to the island. I had to pay through the nose to get him to take us so late in the day.”

So there was an island. At least Terrence wasn’t leading her into the middle of the ocean and throwing her overboard. She swallowed. Maybe she should have told someone exactly where she planned to go. Or with who. Or how long she planned to be away. Not that she knew many of those things, but if she didn’t return…

What difference would it make? At that point, she’d be dead.

Steeling herself, Lori stepped onto the rickety boat. The floor was unsteady beneath her feet. Not enough to tip her over the side or even send her sprawling. Just enough to prompt her to clutch Terrence’s arm for balance. Maybe she shouldn’t have worn her high-heeled boots.

The captain–or whatever the owner of a boat was called these days–looked more than slightly drunk and had about five days’ growth of beard covering his chin. It was threaded through with white. He must be nearly as ancient as the oversized raft they stood on. He eyed Terrence warily. “Ready to cast off?”

No. Lori swallowed the answer. If Terrence was telling the truth… She needed to find out.

Terrence nodded.

Lori stood squarely in the middle as the sailor bustled around her. Even Terrence helped a bit as they slipped free of the dock and moved into deeper waters. Lori stared at the dock longingly. She refused to show a sign of fear, but oh, what she wouldn’t give for the freedom to jump off and swim to shore.

The boat wove between the few others not yet docked. Soon, it reached open waters. The shoreline slipped farther away. Terrence crossed to the center of the deck. He pointed over Lori’s shoulder, over the front end. “That’s where we’re headed.”

His voice was warm, intimate compared to the increasing gale.

Lori tore her focus away from the way his body bracketed hers. She looked to where he gestured.

Another shoreline. Her knees nearly buckled. At least the end of this hellish ride would soon arrive.

It didn’t come soon enough. If Terrence hadn’t stood behind her, hemming her in and providing the one solid comfort she had for the ride, she would have curled up on the deck. At least she managed to keep hold of her last meal.

Finally, the captain secured the boat to a dock. Lori slowly let out her breath.

She didn’t move until Terrence urged her to. His fingers slipped between hers, warm and comforting. At times like these, it was hard to wrap her mind around the thought of vampire. Didn’t “dead” also mean “cold?” But to the contrary–even with the sharp, brutish wind they’d endured in the channel, his skin felt pleasantly warm. When he dropped her hand as they reached solid ground again, she almost snatched him back. Maybe her common sense had frozen back on the crossing, along with her extremities.

Terrence moved cautiously. Overly so. What did he fear? She shifted her bag over her shoulder, mentally cataloging everything inside which might double as a weapon. He’d laughed in the face of a vampire hunter. What else could possibly make a vampire wary? Lori traced his steps, her lips sealed shut.

They navigated dark alleys and skirted brightly lit walkways. Even though they moved away from the docks, the stomach-churning scent of fish cloyed to the air around them. Lori feared it had even buried beneath her skin. But if Terrence had a superhuman sense of smell, he didn’t seem to mind it. The farther he walked, the less tense his stance became. Finally, he led her into a seedy motel.

If she’d had a choice, she would have begged for the Mastiff.

The whitewashed walls needed a new coat of paint, and the carpet underfoot was barely recognizable as muddy brown. An elderly man stood behind the reception desk.

“I was just about to close up,” the man said with an annoyed twist to his mouth.

Terrence ignored the barb. And apparently the man’s overgrown, snowy eyebrows.

“We have a reservation.”

Really? Terrence had had to call ahead to secure a room in this dump? The hotel manager should be paying them to stay here. And that was quite an insult coming from a woman who lived in a university dorm. If she could survive in her cramped quarters, just about any accommodations wouldn’t faze her.

The sour old man said, “Name?”

“Welsh.”

The man gave a great hacking cough.

Lori stepped back. The last thing she wanted was to contract tuberculosis or some other form of lung disease.

The man rummaged in a drawer, finally producing a key.

Not a keycard. A key. Did hotels still use such–for lack of a better word–archaic technology?

Terrence took the key, ushering her along the hall to their room. When he opened it, she balked.

“One bed?” Was it too much to ask for two? She was uncomfortable enough sharing a room with Terrence, even if he fronted the bill.

Terrence herded her inside and shut the door. “Relax. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

If he expected her to object, he was wrong. Although, judging by how thin the mattress looked, she didn’t think she’d be much more comfortable. She set her bag down on the flowered bedspread and tried not to think about the last time it had been washed.

She turned, ready to head back out to follow whatever lead Terrence had supposedly sniffed out. But instead of standing ready to go, he shucked his shirt. His pale, muscled torso drew her gaze.

She shook her head. Nothing she hadn’t seen before.

“Shouldn’t we be heading out?”

Terrence shrugged. “You can if you’d like, but after that ride, I need a shower. I must have a ton of salt spray caked on.” He stood, poised on the threshold to the bathroom. His gaze was warm and bright, like he hoped she might ask to join him.

She wouldn’t. “Fine. Just tell me your lead so I can follow it while you’re cleaning up.” She wouldn’t be able to stay in the room without picturing him, anyway.

He met her gaze. “My lead’s run out.”

Lori’s jaw snapped shut. “What did you say?”

With a shrug, he glanced away. “This is as far as I know. From here on out, we search.”

Chapter 4

Lori stood over Terrence’s dormant form. She crossed to the window, carefully peeking through the blinds to judge the position of the sun. It had almost set. Of course, she’d determined that five minutes ago, too. When would Terrence wake up?

She crouched beside his prone form. In sleep, he looked like the man she’d known over the past six months. Innocent. His black hair curled over his forehead. His mouth, slack with sleep, exposed just a hint of fang. His body was rolled in the horrid flowery blanket she’d willingly given up. One of the two pillows from the bed rested beneath his head. He’d lain like this since dawn. Lori didn’t know if she should wake him.

While she wanted to follow whatever lead he purportedly had, this might be her only chance. To kill him. What if he was only stringing her along? Leading her in circles like he had for the past six months. Her vision couldn’t be denied. Never had she had a false one. Terrence had to be responsible for the Spenta Michos’s kidnapping. So logic dictated she would have to kill him, eventually. She fingered the top of her stake, lodged in her boot. Should she do it now and take her chances finding the Spenta Michos?

She couldn’t decide.

Terrence’s eyes opened. He didn’t move, not even to smile. “Are you thinking about killing me, Lori?” His voice was low, gravelly. Masculine.

But Lori had to keep thinking of him as the Spenta Michos’s kidnapper, rather than a man. “If I’d thought about it, you’d be dead,” she bluffed.

He stared at her a moment more, then rose. He ducked into the bathroom to wash up and dress.

From within, he called, “I think it’s better if we split up. We’ll cover more ground that way. We can meet back here around midnight and share any leads we come across.”

Lori narrowed her eyes. He’d brought her this far to keep her near him, and all of a sudden he wanted to split up? Why? Unless he was keeping the Spenta Michos close and wanted to check on his whereabouts. She didn’t say anything.