Into the Darkness (7 page)

“
Oh
yes!” The woman moaned, gripping his body with her legs.

Squeezing my eyes shut didn’t stop me from hearing the rhythmic squeaking of the couch,
his thrusts punctuated by a wet slide and springs shifting. His panting got more labored, pounding into her. She received him with clinging legs and throaty moans.

“Yes!” the man exclaimed, the couch creaking wildly, skin smacking skin.

“Oh, yes, yes, yes!” she exalted as the rocking began to simmer down.

She totally faked it!

Oh God, could Jared tell all those times?

Maybe not, because this guy didn’t seem to notice.
Or maybe he didn’t care. He climbed off when he’d finished and buckled up his pants.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said while getting his breath.

“Don’t you want to share your blood…” she asked hopefully.

My mind stuttered, listening harder, trying to verify what I thought I’d just heard…

“You have a house full of
partners, I must leave you to them. Try the human. He must be good for something.”

“But none are
as powerful as you.” She rose from the couch to stop his retreat.

“I must go. I’ve tarried too long.”

He was away a moment later.

In a fit of temper, she stamped her expensive shoe and bent to scoop up her dress. For a brief moment we could’ve met eyes. Had she looked to her right
, she would’ve found me staring like a mouse hiding from a snake behind a leaf. Dumb, basically.

Luckily, sh
e couldn’t smell whatever the men did, and she wasn’t under the impression people skulked around and hid under desks. She started walking back the way she’d come. As the door opened, the unmistakable sounds of chatter drifted out and filled the room, only cut off when the heavy wood door was closed once again.

So going that way wasn’t an option. Crap.

I crawled from the desk and stared back at the oil painting. My inner compass said go through there. Unlike Mary Poppins, however, I didn’t have Dick Van Dyke with his terrible accent to help me jump in.

Sighing in frustration, I held up my hands, feeling for air.
Nothing. I felt along the frame for bumps or something,
anything.
It was here, I felt something. An inner twitch maybe, but my fingers stalled halfway down the gilded frame.

I heard more muffled voices through the door.
Hurry!

Chapter Eight

I leaned closer to the tarnished metal, only then seeing two hairline cracks. Hearing the door handle jiggle, I stuffed my fingers into the space between the metal and canvas and yanked, lifting the metal an inch as if it was on a hinge. A loud pop echoed in the room, the left side of the picture pushed out farther than the right side. A crack formed in the wall under the frame, indicating that it was, indeed, a doorway.

A muffled voice drifted through the door. “I might go find a human of my own for the night. I’d forgotten what fun they can be. Plus, I could use a little drinkie.”

The far door was opening, but I didn’t want to wait. I struggled with the weight of the secret door, slipped through, and pulled it shut with the gleaming handle on the back. It closed with a soft click, cutting off another man saying, “Let’s share one—”

These people—or whatever the hell they were—had an absentee view on morals!

I turned into the room and blinked. It wasn’t from confusion this time. It was pitch black. I couldn’t see
anything
; not even my hand in front of my face. Not even my hand touching my face!

“Not good,” I whispered, just to have something to focus
on.

I took a big breath, preventing myself from groping blindly. Partly I was scared what my hands would touch, and partly I’d look a fool, and had a sneaking suspicion that whatever these beings were, they could see a lot better than me in the dark. You don’t have shadow clinging to you when you move
just to have a hard time navigating the night…

Closing my eyes so the darkness felt like a choice, I focused on that feeling in my chest, looking for guidance from my female intuition. The heat pulsed and throbbed, opening up like a flower and spreading out, making my skin feel tightly stretched trying to contain it.

Opening my eyes again, the medium-sized, rectangular room before me burst into life. Colors of the rainbow swirled and flexed around me, running through the walls and along the ground. In the middle of the room crouched two couches, defined by the absence of color within that space. I noticed a few other pieces of furniture, like tables and a chair or two, also identified by a black hole, but if I wasn’t hallucinating, the room seemed pretty bare.

At the end of the square space to
the right was a corridor. My feet were moving straight ahead before my mind caught up with it. I crossed the room with easy strides, dipped into the corridor and started jogging down what must be the middle of the fortress-house.

Before I got far, though,
a strange feeling nudged me. I’d just passed through the Boss’s secret room, I was sure of it. Just like I could sense when that nosey bugger waited outside my apartment, I just
knew.
And something—the same sixth sense that led me to this house—told me I needed to leave my mark. He needed to know without a doubt that it was me. When that voice spoke, I listened, end of story.

The only problem was, there was only one way that he’
d be sure, without a doubt, who passed through.

“I cannot believe I am even contemplating this!”

I went to one of the plush couches that my butt identified as leather, laid down, and paused.

“No.
Just…no.”

As I moved to get up, a surge of doubt washed over me. I had to leave a mark. He had to know. Why? I had no idea. But I knew he did.

“Damn you, inner compass,” I whispered, settling back down.

“What has my life become when I’m in a stranger’s room, about to—“

I didn’t bother finishing that thought. My hand snuck into my britches. I could feel my face burning in embarrassment.

Almost unbidden,
the image of those people on the couch surfaced. Of his greedy plunges and her writhing body under him. Then the Boss’s body and intimidating pressure pushing into me. His hands, coating my body, feeling between my—

“
Holy—“

I shuddered barely before I’d even begun.

“—crap,” I panted. Well, that was pretty painless.

That done,
I jumped up and sprinted down the corridor, my inner compass probably laughing its butt off that I actually went through with it.

The walls climbed with colors, throbbing as if they had a heart. Letting that weird sixth sense continue to guide me, stronger now than I could ever remember, I wound my way through the building, ignoring occasional doors to my left or right, until finally my skin was crawling and my butt
cheeks tingling. It was my danger sensor.

That aggressive shadow guy was on the other side of the door in front of me, I had no doubt. And he was dangerous. Breathing deeply, I suddenly wondered how smart this was.

And yes, that thought should have occurred to me long before now.

I took stock of the situation—I was about to barge into a scene with a huge, violent guy that wished me harm. He had wanted to hurt me that other night, I could feel it. He wasn’t good or just, he was bad news, untrustworthy and vile. But he hadn’t hurt Jared. He’d used my boyfriend, but at the time, Jared liked it.
Which meant, Jared was probably okay.

Plus, how the hell was I going to save him? I wouldn’t come out on top in a fist fight, my sword only scared envelopes, and I had no combat experience.

That’s when a muffled scream pushed through the wall and pierced my gut.

Jared was absolutely not okay!

I stepped through the door.

Chapter Nine

Jared lay on his back, tears running down his face, his expression one of abject terror. A naked woman bounced on his hips, a foul smile curling her lips as she took pleasure in Jared’s fear. Crouched by Jared’s head was Aggressive Shadow—I’d never caught his name—holding a knife. A circle of spectators watched the scene, most naked, almost all touching themselves or each other, getting off on what was happening in front of them.

If my vengeance had a smell in contrast to my arousal, these people would’ve been covering their noses and retching!

I lunged across the room with letter opener in hand before Jared could issue another scream. Without thought, all action, I had the woman’s hair clutched tightly in a fist, her neck taxed from pulling her head back, and the “blade” at her throat, for all the world pretending it was a knife.

Everyone froze.

Aggressive Shadow looked up at me in complete surprise.

“What the hell is this, Jonas?” the woman seethed, her body going a worrying type of fluid.

Aggressive Shadow—Jonas—sat back on his haunches, a quizzical smile playing across his face as he analyzed me. “Well, well, how did you get in here?”

“Walked.
Which is exactly how I’ll be getting out. Get off she-bitch!” I yanked the woman’s hair, dragging her off of Jared.

“Why is she not responding to my fear pheromones?” a man with a buzz cut against the wall asked, mystified. “This has never happened before.”

“Seriously, can everyone stop stroking their penises? It is rude, strange, and distracting all at the same time! Social etiquette, people,” I shouted, staring at Jonas, the “knife” still at the woman’s throat.

I had a sinking feeling the woman was humoring me, based on the bored glaze to her eyes.

“Sasha?” Jared struggled to sit up, bleeding from at least twelve shallow gashes on his chest—some looked like nail scratches.

“Oh God, Jared!”
I whispered hoarsely.

White hot rage vibrated my body and clouded my vision. Something shook loose in my chest, removing a blockage I hadn’t known existed. That same
sixth sense I’d been using got a surge of power, sizzling my limbs as it traveled my length, my skin no longer feeling stretched, but now electrified and translucent.

“Did you feel that?” someone asked in a hushed voice.

I didn’t pay attention. I could only focus on Jonas as he rose slowly, uncoiling from the ground in a smooth, graceful lengthening of muscles. His face wore a malicious smile, his eyes lit with a manic fire.

“It was not wise, coming here,” Jonas said as he took a step closer.

A burst of sweat coated my body as adrenaline surged through my blood.

I flung the woman to the side, stepping away into a crouch, something primal taking over. Letter opener held in my right hand like a knife, I took my whistle out and put it to my lips. I had no idea why.

“Is that a whistle?” someone asked, dumbfounded.

Obviously, no one else knew why, either
.

A smile slid up Jonas’s face like an oi
l slick on wet cement. “I wasn’t supposed to seek you out, but since you’ve come to me, I think I might just have a little fun with you.”

“Nothing you do with me will be fun.”  I stepped toward Jared as Jonas circled me, intending that last line to be threatening, and missing the mark somewhat.

“For you,” I clarified.

“You are impervious to our
pheromones, which means your screams will be heartfelt, and my cock pounding into you won’t be welcomed. I wonder if you’ll like it anyway.”

Bile rose in my throat.

Skin swished as the crowd shifted position, sounding similar to fabric rustling, only much grosser. But at least what Jonas said made them uncomfortable, too.

I did not harbor false illusions that it would matter in the least.

“You’ll have to do it bleeding and deaf because you won’t get me—“

He rushed me. One minute he was stalking me like a cat stalks a
beetle, and the next he was upon me, his movements so fast and powerful, they’d gotten lost in my vision. Heat pulsed within my chest, sending a throb of electricity down my arms, sizzling my skin as I tried to wrestle my wrist away from his tree-trunk arm. He flinched back with a hiss, giving me enough room to stab the strangely crimson glowing blade downward, sticking into his chest. It didn’t go far; I wasn’t strong and it wasn’t sharp.

They didn’t
take good care of office supplies in this place.

His hand rose to strike me or choke me, but I didn’t wait to find out which. I blew for all I was worth, the whistle hollering in his face and echoing into his ears. He flinched again, his head swinging back, his hearing apparently more acute than mine because he acted like I
blared a blow horn at the side of his head.

I dodged around his giant body, still blowing the whistle, and launched at Jared. He was sitting up distractedly, fear still on his face, erection amazingly going strong.

“C’mon, Jared, hurry!” I yelled, tugging at his arm and trying to turn my body to face the attack I knew would come shortly.

“I need to screw, Sasha,” he whined, breaking down before my eyes in fear and self-loathing.

Guilt shriveled my gut even more, but anger fueled whatever new power coursed through my midsection. I throbbed with it, a weird sort of fire pounding in my head and pulsating down my limbs.

As Jared tried to stand, Jonas was on me again,
his face a mask of violent brutality. The game had ended for him when the first gush of blood pumped out of the new hole in his chest.

He grabbed my arm and flung me, his hand once again flinching back from my skin as if burned, but not before I was airborne. I hit the wall with a thud, my head banging painfully, making Jonas sparkle within my vision. I fell to the ground, needing a second for the stars to dissipate.

Before Jonas could pounce on my prone frame, I jumped up as if my legs were made from a pogo-stick and dove for the letter opener that had fallen when my body hit the wall. Crouched once more, dull “knife” at the ready, I squared off, waiting for that blur of movement I knew would come; but this time, I let my sixth sense feel for it.

Sur
e enough, my warning butt tingle had me moving a fraction of a second before he launched, slipping out of the way then stabbing down, slicing a red gash across his back with my, once again, crimson glowing blade. It was the first time I was happy he was naked.

Jonas howled and rounded on me.

“Can someone stop stroking their damn penis and help me out?” I yelled. “What the hell is wrong with you people? Ever heard of a do-gooder?”

My “knife” strikes were doing no good, and I was tired. Worse, Jonas wasn’t. I wouldn’t be able to do enough damage to escape before I passed out from fatigue. If one of these yuck-ups would give me a little distracted cover, I could probably salvage the situation.

Unfortunately, no one even so much as slowed in their personal hand-combat.

These freaking people had something seriously wrong with them!

This time, the butt tingle had me staying still, somehow
knowing
Jonas would anticipate my movement to the side. I stabbed, poking another shallow hole in his body, before sprinting across the room.

He caught me by the hair and yanked me back. My upper body fell toward the floor, my legs swept out and useless. Jonas pinned me to the ground with a hand on my throat before flinching back again, shaking the hand and squatting over me, intent to do me harm, but confused why he couldn’t.

“Enough.”

A spatter of titillated laughter sounded from the peanut gallery. Jonas, his eyes full of hate, straightened up
slowly, regret that his retribution was called off. His body bled from three different gashes, but he seemed unperturbed.

On the other hand
, my head pounded, my scalp hurt, I was exhausted, my muscles were sore, and, oh yeah, I was freaked out of my face because Jonas wanted to kill me slowly and with much pain. I’d just made an extremely violent enemy that melted into the night like butter onto hot bread. I had a sickening feeling I’d just waved goodbye to safety.

All eyes turned to the speaker, one of two clothed people in the room, me being the other, standing just inside the invisible door, staring at me with an unreadable expression.

The Boss had followed my trail. I was suddenly glad I had stopped to listen to my inner guide, however gross.

“Jonas,” the Boss said, eyes lazily sliding from me to him, “you are on probation and banned from this house and duty. I will be going over your conduct with the council.
Dismissed.”

Jonas flexed, his eyebrows drooping dangerously. He stepped toward the Boss, coiling. It loo
ked like he planned to take out his vengeance on the Boss.

The Boss continued to stare, but did not change his relaxed posture in any way. He seemed unconcerned.

After a tense stare-off, Jonas dropped his eyes and spit—narrowly missing my head—and walked out.

I wanted to go home.