Night Series Collection: Books 1 and 2 (11 page)

I snorted. “Yeah, like that’s gonna be possible. Have you taken a good look at me lately?”

“Use your glamour; I don’t care what it takes, but figure out a way.” Her words were sharp and brooked no argument. That age-roughened voice still had a lot of bite left in it when she wanted it to.

“Grace, you know that’s not how my glamour works. I become what my prey wants me to become.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Then find the sickest bastard in there and make yerself ugly!” Her bird chest rose and fell swiftly with the force of her vehemence.

I twisted my lips, razor sharp anger filling my bones. “Don’t push me,” I said softly.

She shook her head, rubbed her temple and sighed. “Forgive me. It’s not you I’m angry at. This whole situation has got me nerves on edge.” Again her accent slipped, she must really be a mess to vacillate this way.

Anger gone, I studied the frail woman sitting before me. She looked as if she’d aged ten years since last I saw her a year ago. Her skin was papery thin, revealing long green and blue veins along her neck and cheeks. Where before she’d had a liver spot or two, now she seemed covered in them from neck to hands. Something was happening, something big. She knew and she wasn’t sharing. My gut told me this was more than a simple case of vamps run wild.

“You’re keeping something from me.”

She smiled, but it lacked humor. “Aye, you’ve always known me too well to try and deny it. I’ve been twisted in knots and praying to the good Lord that it ain’t so, but me fears keep me up at night, Pandora.”

I leaned back and crossed my arms over my chest. If I let her, she’d ramble on and talk circles around me for hours. “Spit it.”

She steepled her fingers, and rubbing them together, took a deep breath as if for strength and finally said, “We believe the vamps are being led by a rogue.”

I swallowed, feeling like the floor beneath me swayed.

I could tell by the nervous flutter of her throat that there was more, and judging by the gleam in her eyes, I wasn’t sure I’d want to hear the rest.

“Pandora, I hate tae ask you this, but has anyone inside your family been acting peculiar lately?”

This time it felt like the floor had opened up and swallowed me. “What are you saying, Grace? You think it’s one of us?”

She spread her hands in an I’m-so-sorry gesture; worry lines carved a path around her mouth and brows. “It’s a question, Dora, nothing more.”

“You can’t know that for sure. You can’t,” I mumbled, there was no way.

The order was fallible, they had to be.

She licked pale lips. “You’re right, dear, we cannot state it as fact. But our scouts have heard terrible rumors and that’s why we need you to go and do this. That’s why it took me so long to call you and set a date. I tried on me own to get verification,” she shrugged, “but humans can only do so much. We havena’ your skill with glamour.”

I felt like I’d just swallowed a bucket of writhing, slimy maggots. My stomach churned, bile rose up my throat and settled on the back of my tongue. It was bad enough that they suspected a rogue neph—we hated killing our kind—but that it might be one of mine. I shuddered.

I might hate Vyxyn, might wish her ill ten ways to Sunday, but to turn on your own family and lead a pack of vermin was beyond belief. I couldn’t believe it, not even from her. But I had to know for sure.

“Yes,” I nodded, “yes, Grace, you can trust me.”

She closed her eyes, as if hearing me say it relieved her of a heavy burden. “Speak of this to no one, until we know who we can trust and who we can’t, it must be kept between us.”

I shook my head. “No. No way. I can’t keep this from Luc.”

She pinned me with a glacial stare.

But on this, I would not budge. She couldn’t honestly expect me to do this on my own without any help whatsoever. I might be strong, but I wasn’t wonder woman. I needed back up. I set my jaw and glowered at her.

“Do you honestly believe in him enough to defy my orders?”

I gave one swift, quick nod. Luc and I have a complicated relationship, there were parts of me that might never trust him fully, but when it came to the well-being of his family, I had no doubt the man would move heaven and earth to keep it safe. That’s how he was. “No doubt in my mind.”

She shrugged. “Then there’s no use in me trying to talk you out of it, but mind you, Pandora, no one else.” She wagged her finger at me.

I spread my hands and smiled. Knowing I had Luc behind me alleviated much of my doubt. “Fine.”

“Well then.” Grace patted down her floral patterned skirt. “If there’s nothing else...”

“Actually.” I bit my thumb nail, I’d debated for days whether or not to bring this up with Grace, but finally reasoned that any help I might get to rid me of my pest would be worth sharing it, even though my gut screamed at me to keep Billy to myself. I ignored it, my obsession with the man would not blind me to what needed to be done.

“Yes,” she prompted.

“I have a priest problem.”

She went still, face impassive. I could usually read Grace’s moods as if they were my own, but this time she gave nothing away.

“What do ye mean?” I had to strain to hear her ask it.

Suddenly I wished I hadn’t said anything. Not because of her reaction but because of mine. My palms were sweating; my heart was thumping so fast it felt like I was on speed. Billy was my problem, not hers. I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have listened to my gut and said nothing.

“Nothing, never mind,” I waved my hand, “forget I said it.”

“Have you seen him?”

I bit my bottom lip and nodded, fighting back the stomach churning urge to protect the thing trying to kill me.

“You saw him and lived?”

I said nothing, feeling like I had a watermelon trapped in my throat.

“What was his name?”

“I don’t know.” The lie was out my mouth before I even had time to formulate it. I doubted Billy was his real name, but if it was a well known alias, I wouldn’t give it away either.

She narrowed her eyes, studying me hard, as if searching me for hidden clues or lies. But I knew how to bluff with the best of them. I gave her wide innocent eyes that screamed:
trust me, don’t you trust me?
Grace was as human as the rest of them and she fell prey to the charm.

She nodded, apparently satisfied and I had to bite back my sigh of relief.

“You know,” she shook her hand, “we’ve catalogued the priests’—”

What I wanted to say was:
“I bloody knew it!”
what I wound up saying was, “Oh really?”

“Mmm. Yes.” She pounded her cane on the floor. “Mary!” she trilled, her voice going harpy screech loud. “Come here, girl.”

Color bloomed in Grace’s cheeks; blue eyes twinkled with excitement when she turned back around to face me. “I knew someday this would come in handy. I told Geoffrey when he made it, not to throw it away and I’m so glad I had the foresight to keep it.”

I had no idea what she was talking about, but her excitement was contagious. “What?”

“A talisman.” She frowned, brows thinning into white slashes as she looked over her shoulder at the still empty doorway. “How many times do I have to call for service around here? Get yer lily white rear over here, Mary.” She stamped her cane down in such a fit of anger that I was surprised she didn’t tear a chunk out of the carpet.

I heard a crash of dishes in the kitchen, then saw Mary white as a sheet racing out the door, nearly tripping over herself to get to Grace.

“Sorry, Ma’am, I didn’t hear ya.”

“I’m older than ye and I can hear better. I’ll send ye back to the order I will.”

Tears squeezed out the corners of the large gray eyes. “I’m sorry, Ma’am, don’t send me back. Please.” She squeezed her hands together. “Find it in yer heart tae forgive me. What can I do to make it better, Miss Grace?”

Grace grabbed her skull, growling. “Oh stop with the wheedlin’, girl, so unbecomin’.”

I hid my smile behind my hand. I didn’t envy the girl. There wasn’t enough money in the world to tempt me to work for Grace. I wondered if Mary had done something deserving of this kind of torment. Grace’s anger was legendary. Though normally it was a cold anger, not this blow-up-in-your-face-scream-and-holler, kind of thing.

“Go to me locker,” Grace said, “and bring me the talisman.”

“Which one, Ma’am?” If Mary had been a boy her Adam’s apple would have been bobbing furiously.

“The only one I’ve got ye idiotic chit!”

I didn’t think it was possible, but Mary’s eyes grew even wider, she turned on her heels and ran.

Grace sighed.

“Not that I have much room to speak here, but don’t you think you’re being a tad hard on the girl?”

She gave a weak, slightly self-conscious chuckle. “Aye. Probably. I’m trying my hardest to get her to leave, seems the worse I am the more she wants to stay. I dunna understand young people these days. Makes no fool sense.”

I shrugged. “She likes you.”

“Aye, and I wish she wouldn’t. It’s like the order’s telling me I’m too old to take care of myself, bloody bastards. Well I won’t die yet.” She pounded her cane for emphasis. “Even if they think I should.”

I smiled.

Mary returned moments later, carrying a black velvet pouch. She handed it to Grace then proceeded to bow obsequiously the entire way back into the kitchen.

I snorted and Grace eyed me evilly. “You try livin’ with one of those, see how you like it. Judgin’ me,” she muttered beneath her breath and then tossed me the tiny sack. “There.”

I started to open it.

“No.” It was a one word command. “Do not open it now. I don’t want you accidentally triggering a catastrophe atop our heads.”

“What is it, Grace?”

“A ring.”

“How do I use it?”

“You’ll know, it’s easy enough to figure out. There’s only one word of caution.”

I felt the hard lump, trying to imagine how such a small thing could bring dark, dangerous, and seductive to his knees. An image of Billy on his knees before me, made me squirm.
Mmm...

“Are you listening?” Grace snapped her fingers, irritation written all over her face.

I gave my best innocent smile. “Say that again, would you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Between you and Mary, I don’t know who’s worse.”

I laughed.

“I said, do not open it in front of anyone but the priest. Humans must not see this kind of power.”

“What’s it do?”

Grace gave her best cat that snared the canary grin. “Let’s just say, it’s hell on a person.”

I
t had stopped raining. Which should have made me giddy, but each step I took made me feel like I was walking to the gallows. I’ve done that, once actually, but that’s neither here nor there. I digress.

The bloody ring was biting into my foot, I’d shoved it down my boot after leaving Grace’s house, scared witless to have it accidentally go off. She hadn’t told me what it would do and until I could study it further, I really didn’t want to use it.

I belted the coat tighter around my waist, feeling as if I couldn’t get warm enough. I know it’s probably some sort of psychosomatic episode I’m experiencing now, but no matter how often I kept repeating it to myself, I still feel the chill leeching all the warmth from me.

Scanning the sidewalk, which was now completely deserted—the sun having set long ago—I growled. I was hungry. For food and sex. I felt like a woman starved.

All that doom and gloom can really bring a girl down. I needed something to ease my body, give me room to think and focus without the constant driving itch in the backdrop of my mind.

I glanced around; all the windows in the housing district were closed or black. I stepped into the deep shadow of an alleyway and ported myself to another alley several blocks down. I’d passed the fifties themed diner on my way to Grace’s earlier. It was the only place that at this time of night should still have humans.

I made sure there was no one around before I reformed and stepped out from behind the green dumpster, patting my frizz down the best I could. You should always look your best, especially when tempting a man to your proverbial bed. Though honestly, unless you’re morbidly obese, ugly as homemade soap, and covered in warts, most any man would do you under the right circumstances. Ever heard of beer goggles? ‘Nuff said.

The echoing tin of steel kicked across pavement snagged my attention. I looked up in time to see a lone man headed in my direction, walking with head bent toward the parking lot.

Lust stirred.

You know I rag on men for wanting to screw whatever comes their way, but Lust’s no different. This guy wasn’t even hot. He was short, thick around the middle and sporting a wicked receding hair line.

He looked up, key in hand and standing next to his blue Ford Mustang, as if sensing himself being watched.

I licked my lips, heart beating a tiny bit faster.

Go get him
—Lust whispered viciously—
take him,
screw him, kill him, I don’t care, just make him ours.
I gripped the trash bin so hard I actually warped the metal.

I couldn’t understand my reluctance.

He opened the door.

I locked my jaw, squeezed my eyes shut for a second and took a deep breath. Every nerve in my body taut, stretched. My bones were sharp and brittle, poking at my insides, rubbing me raw. Even the blood streaming through my veins felt like poison to my skin. I itched—one of those itches that no matter how much you dig at yourself you still can’t seem to satisfy it with mere nails and friction.

I wanted Billy, not this man. He was the one I wanted to taste, screw; convinced that if I could, I’d scratch the itch he started. Once, and my obsession would be gone. In retrospect it’s probably why I kept holding out on sex. Any longer though and I’d turn feral, without Luc or someone else around to keep me in check, that would be a very bad thing.

I huffed a lank of hair out of my eye. Billy wasn’t here. He was.

Like a rodent standing on its hind legs, the man studied the darkness of the night. Little black eyes looked in my direction. I knew he couldn’t see me, even though he looked right at me.