Night Beyond The Night (10 page)

Elliott picked up his beer and buried his face in the mug. And drank.

Getting pissed, as Quent put it, suddenly sounded just about right.

Ten days After

No help is coming.

Diane and I found forty-three others. 43. Of everyone in Las Vegas, only forty-five of us survived?

Bodies everywhere: on the streets, beneath the rubble. Everywhere.

One of the survivors—a man named Rowe—said he was with fifty others who lived through the earthquakes, but then all but himself died the next day for no apparent reason. They simply dropped like stones.

He was the only one who didn’t.

Why? Some weird-ass result of severe PTSD? A gas released by the quakes? A disease?

After some (sometimes heated) discussion, all have agreed that today is June 16.

No more aftershocks. Storms have stopped. Got some generators working, siphoned gas from bus and truck tanks. Have lights and some power for a while.

No Internet. No cell.

Trying to find medical supplies for injured people. Sending parties to forage for food. Some don’t come back.

Where is everyone else?

I have to find Theo. He’s still alive. I can feel him.

—from the journal of Lou Waxnicki

Jade slipped the flat plastic card into the slot, heard the familiar click of the lock, and silently eased through the door. Thank goodness for Lou’s master key.

Inside, the room was dark but for a brush of moonlight that gave gray highlights to a smooth bed, a wing-shaded lamp, and a hulking armoire.

On silent feet, she hurried across what had once been a well-appointed hotel room at New York–New York Casino and Resort, and just as quietly to the adjoining door, carefully jimmying the lock . . . and into Elliott’s room.

She glanced at the bed, saw the unmoving figure of a man and swallowed hard. Even from here she could see the rise of a broad, square shoulder illuminated by the faint gray seeping through the window. She looked away, toward the door that opened onto the hallway down which she’d just padded. Good plan on her part, coming in through the next room—he’d used the security lock, and she wouldn’t have been able to get in through that door. Jade smiled to herself for her foresight and began to move quietly toward the bed, realizing her heart was beating loudly in her ears.

She felt more than a little odd, being in Elliott’s room, but it was the best way to make sure they weren’t seen together, and to get him to Lou.

If he was willing. And if she wasn’t wrong about him.
Please God
.

That was the biggest risk of all, but one Lou had been determined to take. “I’ll know the moment I shake his hand,” he’d assured her. “Before any damage is done.”

Theo wasn’t back yet, and although he’d tried to hide it, Lou was worried about his brother. His elderly face had shown its creases even more deeply after Jade told him about the conversation she’d heard near the Wendy passageway.

Friday. Something was going to happen Friday. Whatever it was, if it had to do with the Strangers, if it had to be done in secrecy, something was wrong. Just the fact that a Stranger was here, secretly, set her hair on end.

Jade had seen what the Strangers did. She dreamt about it, and when she was alone, often woke up sweating and trembling. That was precisely why she did what she did, and why she risked herself on the Running missions. Because they had to be stopped from killing more children, from torturing more women. From using mortals for their experiments that left them mutilated and ill.

And no one believed her about all the things she’d seen. No one but the Waxnicki brothers.

Jade hesitated. Should they really be wasting their time with Elliott and his friends—people they didn’t know—instead of doing something about Rob and his cargo?

But what could she do, aside of questioning Rob? Subtly, of course. Which, by the way, she’d intended to do, but hadn’t been able to find him.

As it was, Jade had barely made it back in time to clean up for her gig tonight—thank God for Flo, who’d helped her get put together. The woman was magic—fixing her hair and face to make her look as good as if she was one of those old actresses. Angelina Jolie or Scarlett Johansen, Jade wasn’t, but at least Flo had helped hide the remnants of Jade’s cuts and scrapes.

And then of course Vaughn Rogan had shown up, sat right in the front so she couldn’t ignore him. She couldn’t exactly blow off the mayor of Envy, especially considering their history.

But here she was now, in Elliott’s room, after extricating herself from Vaughn and actually snatching a few hours of sleep. It was the wee small hours of the morning, as one of the songs she sang went, and most everyone was sleeping.

She wasn’t stupid. She had a knife. She slid her fingers surreptitiously toward the pocket of her loose tunic. She could have it out and in her hand in an instant.

Swallowing hard, palms feeling a little damp, she moved toward the bed. She’d already thought about the different scenarios for waking Elliott, and had discarded the idea of actually touching him. Which was good, because he seemed to be wearing nothing but the sheets that were twisted around his hips. The thought of touching his warm, smooth skin made her belly tighten . . . and not in an altogether unpleasant way.

Instead she bent toward him to whisper his name, but she’d hardly drawn in a breath when he moved suddenly. She squeaked in surprise and shock as his hand lashed out and strong fingers closed around her wrist, giving her a little tug so that she bumped her thigh against the mattress.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in that smooth voice. Too smooth for him to have been sleeping.

“You’re awake,” she said needlessly, trying to settle her racing heart.

The bed was right there, flush up against her thigh, and she could see the darkness of his skin contrasted against the white sheets . . . shoulders, torso, and the muscular arm attached to the hand that held her wrist, the black hair brushing his forehead and temples.

“Of course I am. I don’t sleep.” He kept hold of her and she saw the faint shine of his eyes in the dim light. “Are you here to join me? I definitely wouldn’t want to sleep through that.” His voice became even smoother, promising, and he gave a gentle little tug on her wrist, as if to coax her down next to him.

“No.” The word came out flat and sharp, and more panicked than it should have, considering the fact that she was the one who’d sneaked into his bedroom. Reminding herself of that should have steadied her, feeling her fingers settle over the knife handle should have given her comfort, but her heart was racing and her mouth had dried, and a little of that old fear began to crawl up her spine.

She tried to tug out of his grip and Elliott must have sensed her apprehension, for he freed her immediately. Jade stepped back from the bed, releasing the knife in her pocket. Her jinky nerves calmed as she mentally chided herself for going a little panicky. Well, more than a little. Truth was, if he hadn’t released her, she might have gotten a bit nuclear. Used the wicked blade on his smooth, tanned skin.

But what else was he to think, for crying out loud, when she shows up in his room in the dead of night? And besides, if he’d wanted to . . . do anything to her, he’d had ample opportunity last night. And he hadn’t touched her but to heal her. Miraculously healed her.

“Then let me guess. You’re here to take something. Or to try and kill me. Although I suppose if you wanted to do that, you’d have done it before you ran off this morning.”

As he spoke, he sat up and swung his bare feet off the bed, settling them on the floor. It was probably a good thing that he kept the sheets in his lap, for she swore she saw a flash of bare hip as he did so.

She would not think about the fact that he was most likely naked under those sheets. Definitely not.
Quit gawking and answer the question, Jade
.

“No,” she said, and her voice was stronger now that she’d put distance between them. “Don’t be ridiculous. I just didn’t want anyone to see me—us—talking, so I sneaked in here.”

“So you came in here to
talk
. In the middle of the night. When I’m in bed.”

Put that way, it did sound kind of suggestive. Didn’t that sort of thing happen in those old James Bond movies all the time? And then 007 and the woman ended up going at it? And sometimes she even tried to kill him.

Or vice versa.

Jade took another step back.

Elliott reached over and turned on the bedside table’s lamp, which counted among the original furnishings in this hotel room. He and each of his companions were given their own rooms in what had once been a high-rise casino resort. The rooms were clean and furnished, if not dated, with running water and power.

Jade focused on answering his question instead of noticing the details of his newly illuminated torso. “I wanted to ask if you’d come to meet a friend of mine. He’d like to talk to you. And I didn’t want anyone to see us together.” His chest was sleek and angular, dusted with a light patch of hair between two firm, square pectorals. A muscular arm held the bunch of sheets in his lap. She felt warm all of a sudden.

“Why? Is your cowboy boyfriend the jealous type?”

Cowboy boyfriend?
Jade frowned. “It’s complicated. I want Lou to explain it to you.”

She could practically see him come to attention. “Lou? Waxnicki?”

“How did you know that?” A burst of worry flashed over her. She and Lou were careful not to appear close in public; in fact, she tried to avoid being seen with him as much as possible. But had someone begun to notice? Rob Nurmikko?

“A lucky guess. As it happens, I’d be happy to meet your friend Lou.” Grabbing the sheets, he warned, “I’m going to stand up to get dressed.”

She spun on her feet and heard his low chuckle as she did so. But she wasn’t about to completely turn her back on him, and angled herself so she could see a bit of him in the mirror. Purely just to make sure he didn’t sneak up behind her. The flash of a pale flank confirmed her suspicion that he slept in the nude, and Jade felt a combination of wariness and warmth sweep over her. Then she heard the soft swish of his clothing being pulled on and relaxed a bit more.

“So you left this morning just to head back here to Envy. What was the big hurry?” he asked, and she heard a soft zipping sound. Jeans.

“I had something to do. I didn’t want to be late.”

“Were you not supposed to be gone? Was it a secret that you had left?”

Judging him dressed by now, she turned. He was fully clothed and she felt even more at ease. “I just didn’t want to be late.”

“For your gig.”

She hid her surprise that he knew about that. But come to think of it . . . Trixie had been blathering about the new arrivals when Jade went back behind the bar to get a drink. “Right,” she said.

“So how are you feeling?” he asked, tucking the shirt into his jeans. “After riding—I assume you rode—all day? That was quite a fall you took. Are you in any pain?”

“No. I’m feeling perfectly fine. Surprisingly fine, in fact.”

“Good,” he said, stepping closer to her, a smile pulling at his mouth. “That means I can give you a clean bill of health . . . and I’m no longer your doctor.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” she asked, her voice suddenly unsteady.

“Because doctors don’t do this to their patients.” He reached for her, easily but purposely, as if aware that she was skittish—but nevertheless determined to touch her.

Jade should have panicked . . . but though her heart skipped and her lungs filled, she didn’t move. She couldn’t.

She didn’t want to.

Holding her gaze with his own, the gentle smile lifting one side of his lips, Elliott drew her closer. The next thing she knew, his mouth descended, his arms enveloped her and crossed loosely over her back, fingers brushing the ends of her hair.

She closed her eyes and took his kiss, lifting to him for a long, sleek swirl of lips and tongue. His mouth moved over hers, his tongue swiping deep and hot as though he needed to taste every bit of her. His body was strong and solid, warm and comforting as he gathered her closer. Desire shivered deep in her belly, flushing and curling down into her core.

When had she ever felt like this before?

His hands cupped the back of her skull, holding her there, kissing her as though he had all the time in the world. Long, slow, thorough . . . gentle, and yet edged with need. Somehow, her hands found their way, curling onto the tops of his shoulders, solid and square beneath the cotton shirt and she tasted him, feeling a long-submerged pleasure rush through her. She forgot to breathe, caught in the flush of awareness of this man, this mysterious stranger who made her feel weak and warm.

“Jade,” he said against her mouth, urgent, breaking the kiss as he gasped for breath. His chest moved against hers as if he’d run miles, his arms banded more tightly around her, and for a moment she forgot where she was, who she was with . . . and panicked.

She must have stiffened, must have done something to signal the sudden bolt of ice down her spine, for he pulled back and released her so suddenly that she staggered back a step.

“That,” he said, his voice not quite as smooth as before, “is not supposed to happen between a doctor and his patient.” His eyes glittered dark, fastening on her for a moment before he turned away. “Which is why I’m very glad you’re not my patient anymore.”

Fingers shaky, knees weak, Jade watched silently as he retrieved his boots and sat on the edge of the bed to draw them on. Her heart still raced crazily and her lips felt full and puffy, but it wasn’t a bad thing. She wouldn’t let it be. He’d thrown her off her game for a moment by kissing her, but she was back to business. “Lou’s waiting for us.”

“My friends will want to be there,” Elliott said, the laces whipping through his fingers as he tied the boots.

“Of course. I was going to get them too,” she said, her attention drawn from his slender, capable fingers by the question. “The only reason I came to you first was because your room was the easiest to get to.”