Reaper's Dark Kiss Page 7

  By Shadow World law, Christian would be Julian’s brother soon. The Jeep took a brutal leap, then crashed to the road, swinging right. Julian’s head bounced off the roof. “We don’t have time to heal broken bones,” he said to Harli. “Drive like you can see where you’re going.”

  Undisturbed by the hard edge in Julian’s voice, Harli said, “Sorry,” and for a few seconds, slowed down to less than lethal.

  Chapter Twelve

  The flight took roughly forever. As soon as they landed, Julian flew, under his own power, from the airport to Sky’s place.

  From their posts, hidden from mortal eyes, the sentinels standing guard silently signaled Julian. No trouble, their steady gazes told him. He dismissed them, then took the steps two at a time. Inside, he took the fire stairs up to the fourth floor.

  He knocked.

  Waited.

  Nothing.

  He was ready to break down the door when it swung open and Sky flung herself into his arms. She buried her face against his chest. Julian felt how badly she’d wanted him here and damned himself for leaving her.

  “I can’t believe it,” she whispered. “What are you doing?”

  Claiming what’s mine.

  Putting his arms around her, he said, “This isn’t the place for the thirty-nine pizzas?”

  Sky laughed, but she smelled of fear. “How did you get here so fast?”

  “On a jet,” Julian said, moving past Sky. She was going to be his. No point in any more lies.

  The small apartment was just the way he remembered it. The tiny living room was crowded with a desk the size of a luxury coffin. Overstuffed chairs with dimpled cushions worn to threads leaned against the walls. The heels of his boots thudded against the blond hardwood floor.

  “A jet?” she said. “I didn’t know freelance bodyguard work paid that good.”

  “It belongs to my family.” Hands hovering near his knives, Julian scanned the kitchen, the bathroom, the bedroom. “What did you find that scared you?”

  She reached into a drawer of her desk and tossed Julian something. “Someone knocked on my door. When I opened it, those…things…were there. ”

  Turning them over in his hand, Julian smelled no poison on the white plastic fangs. They were the kind mortals wore on All Hallow’s Eve. They had the scent of the Shadow World, a mix of stone and ancient blood. A Shade leaving fangs for a female was like an infatuated mortal leaving roses. After all the time they’d spent together, Julian knew his scent was all over Sky. It would be stupid for anyone to leave these for her. Going near a female with a reaper’s scent was the same as calling down a death sentence.

  Pocketing the fangs, he backed away from Sky and leaned against the door. He could tell from the way she was avoiding his gaze that she was hiding something. The last thing he wanted to do was crowd her.

  “There’s something I didn’t tell you,” Sky said in a better-get-this-over-with voice.

  Julian, a reaper who’d waited hours for the right second to kill, said nothing.

  “There was a man following me a while back.” Sky sat on her desk and concentrated on picking at a gash in the edge. “And one night I ran into him,” she went on, her words gushing out, stumbling over each other. “I mean, I saw him. I got spooked tonight when I found those at my door because…” She swallowed. “I think he’s a vampire.”

  For long seconds, Julian focused on nothing but Sky’s scent. He breathed her into him, tried to sense a lie, but there was only fear. She believed what she was saying. “What makes you think that?”

  Sky cast him an uncertain glance. “He’s got fangs.” He saw a shiver run through her. “Real ones. And I don’t think—” She shook her head, as if she were shaking off a bad dream. “No. That’s impossible.”

  Ignoring his beast’s demand to grab Sky off the desk, take her to Montana, and keep her safe at whatever cost, Julian asked, “You don’t think what?”

  “He didn’t have a shadow,” Sky blurted. “God, Julian. I know it sounds crazy.”

  “Where were you when he didn’t cast a shadow?”

  “I know I promised about not going to the park.” She looked up at Julian, and her eyes were saying please don’t be mad. Just doing my job.

  “Nothing to worry about,” Julian said, meaning every word. She didn’t have to worry about it, because he wasn’t leaving her alone in Manhattan again. Ever. “Tell me what happened.”

  “One of the bodies they found, he was male, a hundred and eighty pounds. A couple nights ago I was coming home, and I started wondering. Who could carry around weight like that and not get noticed, even in Manhattan?”

  “What did you do?” Julian asked, even though he had a feeling he knew.

  “I got coffee at Millie’s and took a walk over to the Central Park West entrance. That’s when I saw him. He was standing there. His back was to me.”

  “And he didn’t have a shadow?” Julian asked.

  Shaking her head back and forth, Sky said in a slow, dazed voice, “The streetlight was out, he was standing in moonlight, and”—her voice fell to a whisper—“no shadow.”

  Sky had just described the one mark Shades couldn’t hide, no shadow in moonlight. He wondered if Sky remembered seeing him in moonlight the night he took her to the Old Circle. “His back was to you. How do you know he was the same one who was following you?”

  “His hair,” Sky said, “it’s dreadlocks, past his waist. Hard to miss.”

  Julian’s beast snarled its rage.

  “There’s something else.” Sky rubbed her hands up her face, then raked her fingers through her hair. “Why didn’t I just tell you?”

  Tomorrow’s sun will rise on Vandar’s ashes. Out loud, keeping his voice light, Julian said, “What didn’t you tell me?”

  Plucking a splinter from the edge of her desk, Sky said, “I’ve seen him before.” Then she told Julian about the night they’d gone to the Old Circle, about how the same man had smiled at her and flashed fangs outside Aunt Millie’s “like it was midnight on Halloween.”

  Retribution is mine. Julian and his beast were in total agreement. But first, he had to get Sky somewhere safe. “You know what?” he said. “There’s no point to this. Pack your stuff.”

  “And go to Montana?” Sky said. “I can’t. Not now.”

  Julian covered the distance between the door and the desk in two steps. He stood between Sky’s open legs, pressed his palms to the desk, and leaned down. When she looked up, he said, “I owe you a real kiss.”

  He pressed his lips to hers, soft and warm, and then he ran his hands up Sky’s back to her neck and threaded soft curls through his fingers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him. Talking against her lips, he murmured, “We’re leaving.”

  Sky put her hands against Julian’s chest and pushed. “I can’t go anywhere. I’ve got Fang Killer readers hanging on every word I write. My sources don’t talk over the phone. They won’t even text. I have to stay in town.”

  Julian let himself be pushed back, but not much. “What you have to do, Sky, is stay safe,” he said in a much harder voice than he’d intended to.

  “I can take care of myself,” Sky said, suddenly defensive.

  It sounded to Julian as if she’d been having the same fight for years. Of course she had, he reminded himself. He was acting like Christian. The one word she always used to describe her brother was “overprotective.” Changing tactics, Julian said, “You told me one time you knew places in the city no one ever heard of.”

  Sky broke into a smile. “I used to hide from CJ. He’d get so pissed when he couldn’t find me.”

  Julian put just the right edge of doubt in his voice and asked, “Think you can hide from me?”

  She looked him up and down. “You think you can find me?”

  “Absolutely,” Julian said, knowing Sky wouldn’t let that go unchallenged.

  “I’ve learned a lot since I was a kid,” she said.

  Julian ran a finger over Sk
y’s lips. “How much?”

  Sky’s lips were a taunting softness against his finger as she said, “Enough.”

  “You sound sure,” he said, moving his hand to slide slowly down her back. She arched into him, her breasts firms against his chest, her nipples hard.

  Fighting to control her ragged breathing, Sky said, “I am.”

  “Enough to bet on it?” Julian bent his head and nipped at Sky’s neck.

  Her breath was a caress on his cheek as she whispered, “What’s the bet?”

  “Go hide,” Julian said. “If I don’t find you, we deal with the guy with no shadow your way.”

  “What if you do?”

  I make you mine. “We do it my way.” He made himself step back, then glanced at the watch he wore in the mortal world. “You get a five-minute head start.”

  “You won’t follow me?”

  Her face was flushed with desire, and the only place Julian wanted to follow her was into her bedroom, stripping off her clothes as they went. He said, “Not for four minutes and forty-five seconds.” Even if Vandar found Sky in the next five minutes, he wouldn’t dare touch her, not with Julian’s scent freshly on her.

  Sky jumped down from her desk, ran for the door, then darted back. She pulled her phone from her back pocket and tossed it on the desk. “No electronic tracking,” she said, then brushed her lips over Julian’s mouth in a kiss that was over too quickly.

  Everything in her scent said Sky was ready for Julian to take her. Before she could spin away, he caught her arm. “When I find you,” he said. “You’re mine.” His desire leaped in him at the deep blush that bloomed in Sky’s cheeks before he let her pull away.

  He watched her run out the door, heard her racing down the fire stairs. Standing utterly still, he listened for the front door opening, but instead he heard the stealthy sound of a back door. Sky was out in the alley behind the building, moving fast. Her footsteps made almost no noise. Her heart was going fast.

  The haeze settled over his thoughts. It poured through him, intoxicated him, made every part of him ache for her.

  Julian was a reaper. He knew Sky’s scent. She had no chance of hiding from him.

  It was against his laws for Julian to force Sky to go with him. Marek’s words came back to him—there are ways to lure her. His brother had been right. There was no dishonor in Julian luring Sky into a game she couldn’t win. Not if it meant keeping her safe.

  Julian turned off all the lights, then opened the window. He crouched in the narrow space, waiting for Sky’s five-minute head start to run down.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The storm had blown out, but the night air was agitated, like a restless sea. Sky moved fast, letting the wind kick empty bottles and cans past her. They clanged like false alarms on the deserted streets. She didn’t know why she was doing this. Something about their first kiss, how their lips fit together perfectly, how it felt like Julian would never let her go.

  She felt something for Julian she’d never felt for any man. God. No. This couldn’t be happening. But it was. Denying it didn’t do any good. Alvina was right. Sky was falling in love. And it was like sinking into quicksand—smooth, warm, and no way to escape getting in over her head.

  If that was how things were, then fine. Tonight, Sky was going to get answers. Julian was going to tell her more than he’d ever told her, or—she didn’t know what. She’d think of something.

  She checked her watch. Damn. Her five-minute head start was running out.

  An abandoned sewing-machine factory came up on her right. Cops had busted a crack dealer there about a week ago. It made a perfect shortcut. Inside the air smelled of stale sweat and old metal. Business was slow. A would-be customer was curled up on ratty blankets inside the hollowed-out guts of a giant machine. Sky navigated strangely shaped refuse scattered on the floor, staying clear of hulking metal.

  Moving past a steel door that hung from one hinge, she checked the alley behind the factory. Clear. She eased out into the alley.

  A long-fingered hand fell on her shoulder.

  She didn’t turn around, because…it was the vampire guy. And she couldn’t, couldn’t bear to see his fangs. She didn’t have her phone. Julian was blocks away. She would have screamed for help, but—oh God—her lungs had stopped working.

  “Little late for you to be out by yourself, isn’t it?”

  Julian.

  Relieved it wasn’t a man with fangs, Sky spun around and fell into his waiting arms. Air rushed into her lungs and she was suddenly panting. “I thought you were—” She forced words out between ragged breaths. “I didn’t hear—”

  “Sky.” Julian’s voice was edged with worry. He drew her into his arms and leaned down to brush a kiss over her trembling lips. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Sky ran her hands over the angled planes of Julian’s face, through his hair, wild from the wind.

  Then she checked her watch. “Six and a half minutes. Did you follow me?”

  “I never break my word.” For a moment something in Julian’s eyes was dead serious and more than a little frightening. Then it was gone, and he said, “Not my fault you walk slow.”

  “It’s well that you found her, reaper,” a voice said behind them. “She’s quick and stealthy. I feared I would lose her. And with my contract so close to being finalized, it would be regrettable to lose such a prize.”

  Julian’s face went hard and savage. He bared his teeth, and for a split second, Sky saw—no. She couldn’t have. Julian pulled away and turned his back on Sky, shielding her with his body. Over his broad shoulder, she saw the man with fangs who’d been outside Aunt Millie’s. He looked even scarier in a back alley. Gripping Julian’s arm and trying to pull him back, Sky said, “Julian, he’s—”

  “He’s trespassing,” Julian said over his shoulder. To the man in front of him, he said, “I should have known I’d find trash in the gutter.” Julian’s right hand came out from under his leather duster holding a knife. The long blade had a dull gleam Sky recognized as silver. The handle was worn ivory. It was antique, like a family heirloom.

  A nearly full moon hung in the sky, casting buttery-yellow light. Tall, grooved metal poles held sodium streetlights smashed and useless. Sky looked down at the ground. The fanged man didn’t cast a shadow. She blinked and looked again. Her stomach clenched into a knot. Julian didn’t cast one either.

  “Sky?” Julian didn’t take his eyes off the other man.

  “What?”

  “My way? We have a deal?”

  The man with fangs was looking at Sky as if he’d ordered meatloaf and a New York strip steak had landed on his plate. “Badass reporter admits defeat,” she whispered. “Deal.”

  “Good. Turn around. I don’t want you seeing this.”

  Sky grabbed a fistful of Julian’s leather duster, trying to twist him around. “Don’t want me seeing what? You can’t just stab a man for trespassing on a public street.”

  “I won’t,” Julian said, pulling out of Sky’s grip. “It’ll be a clean cut. Across his throat, through his carotid.”

  Thoughts slid across Sky’s mind. The missing pieces of the puzzle that was Julian fell into place. We’re all warriors, he’d said about his family. He’d just described a precision kill as casually as a chef giving a recipe. He was a bodyguard who looked like Death come to claim a soul. And even though he was facing down a man on the far side of midnight in a back alley, Julian was steady, the kind of steadiness that came from years of hard experience. “You’re not just a bodyguard.” Sky couldn’t get her voice above a whisper.

  Julian glanced at her over his shoulder. “Not now,” he said.

  “Your self-control is admirable, reaper.” The man with fangs took a deep breath. His face, rawboned and cruel, took on a dreamy expression of pleasure. “You allow your food to live even when the scent of her fear is so achingly sweet. But I see why. After all, she carries red gold, does she not?” He gave a dry laugh that would have been at home i
n a graveyard crypt. “A Shadow World national treasure, so to speak.”

  Red gold? National treasure?

  Then Julian did something Sky found totally bizarre. He threw down the plastic fangs at the other man’s feet. “What are you doing leaving that in my brother’s territory, Vandar?” Julian said.

  Sky thought Vandar flinched. “I am beyond the games of the young.” He slid his gaze to Sky. “I have come to confirm my resources.”

  “Until the council makes a decision, you’re a trespasser,” Julian said.

  “I am unarmed. And as even as we speak, the council is coming to a decision,” Vandar said. “It’s quite odd, reaper. In the past, I haven’t known you to be so much concerned with the law.”

  “The law,” Julian said through clenched teeth, “is the only reason you’ll live to see another moonrise.”

  “Julian, let’s just go, okay?” Sky knew she was pleading, but she didn’t care. She was desperately afraid for him.

  When he turned to her, his face was in profile. He was crouched like a cat, ready to strike. There was something primitive and barely civilized in Julian’s lithe, muscled body. Strands of black hair blew across his face, adding to the wildness in his eyes, as if the real Julian were just under the surface. “Get back,” he said.

  Two men emerged from behind Vandar and came to stand on either side of him. From their buzz-cut hair—one white, one raging red—to the bulky muscle under their midnight-blue T-shirts, they had the unmistakable air of soldiers. No, Sky thought, mercenaries, the kind who killed partly for money but mostly for pleasure.

  Julian took them in. His face didn’t change. “Don’t make me kill your warriors,” he said. “My fight isn’t with them.”

  Was Julian kidding? Both men had the scarred faces of veteran fighters who’d killed so many times, they’d lost count of the mangled corpses they’d left behind.

  “They’re very loyal,” Vandar said. “And very greedy. I offer lucrative command posts in my—what is it Marek calls them? Oh, yes. My ‘rebel forces.’ To prove they’re worthy of such an honor, a vampire must defend me from my enemies. To my great regret, I am forced to bend the law and allow them to go armed in Creed territory.” He glanced at the two men. “For my own protection.”