Night Runner: Falling From The Light Part 14

She'd listened to the feeders at Tenth World like she was watching a movie, and she regarded Malcolm with a kind of starry-eyed reverence. They'd either waited for her to follow me in or lured her with a touch of projected influence. Already spellbound by the idea of vampires, by the limited glimpses she'd had, she was ripe for the plucking.

We were only supposed to be here for a little while. It wasn't supposed to be dangerous.

The male reached through the bars and she tilted her face and nuzzled his hand. My eyes began to burn. I could have sent her on ahead, or found her some other place to stay. f.u.c.k, anything but that.

A third vampire emerged at the bottom of the stairs, moving silently. His presence grated against me, stronger than the others, familiar in a way that made my stomach churn. I'd had him behind me once, the first time we met at the bottom of the stairs in a mostly abandoned house. He sauntered toward me, the others falling in step behind him. I gripped the bar harder.

He was shorter than I remembered, maybe five foot nine. His black suit and light green s.h.i.+rt did nothing for his complexion. Pale blue eyes and thin yellow hair. He stopped in front of my cage and clasped his hands behind his back.

"Sydney Kildare. What an absolute pleasure to have you here." His German accent was faint, but Richard Abel's smile appeared genuine. His gaze raked down my body and I felt the satisfaction that filled him. Bile rose in my throat.

"Why are we here?" My voice shook. No surprise since I was shaking all over. My thoughts fragmented as fear wormed through my mind. I didn't want to be bitten. I didn't want him to touch me. I wanted out and away, to move, to run, to never stop running.

But it wouldn't matter because he'd already caught me.

Think, I needed to think. They'd had time to chew me up if that's what they'd wanted, but Abel wasn't a spontaneous guy. He was a killer, but he also planned. He knew I was immune to influence, though I'd never been tested by a bite. He didn't know that I could draw on energy, that I could reach out with my senses and latch on, not only to the ambient energy that suckers shed, but to vampires themselves.

I didn't pull from him. I didn't want that energy or anything of his inside of me. Connecting to the other two, I tried to ignore the repellant feel-coldly scratching and hostile as h.e.l.l-and began to pull. I was concussed, bleeding, and human. I needed all the strength I could get.

"You should let her go," I muttered. "She isn't...she's not part of anything. She's not related to Bronson." My teeth started chattering. Abel clicked his tongue.

"I should do many things. But I have mouths to feed." He took a deep, false breath and blew it out. Like someone pretending they smoked. "Besides, Emil has taken a liking to her and while I am no student of human emotions, I would say she returns the affection. It's such a lovely thing. To see two people-and from such different backgrounds-fall for each other. That first infatuating blossom of love. How intense everything feels, both your lover's presence and her absence. It is one of the few times in existence when one's feelings will be stronger than one's reason. Or so I've heard." His fingers flicked and the lock clattered to the floor.

I pushed back, one bar at a time, until I hit the back of the cage. The door swung open. Abel stepped away and, for one frozen moment, I thought he was letting me go.

Then the other vampires approached the door. Dried blood flaked off my forehead and caught in my eyelashes.

"Malcolm Kelly is infatuated with you," Abel said, sounding for all the world as though he was interested by this discovery. "Another love story, and one that has stood its share of trials. It takes pa.s.sion to survive these long years." He clapped one hand into the other, making me jump. "I have always been pa.s.sionate about my job. Emil says it's the German in me. I don't know, but I know that having a purpose keeps me going. Kelly has survived on luck. But now he has a purpose, too, and the fact that it's something as small, as insignificant, as a human-well, that presents an interesting set of opportunities."

I winced as his volume rose, as the carefully infused humor drained out of his voice. It was replaced by something raw, something vicious. Mickey whimpered. She might be enthralled, but she wasn't completely gone. Deep down, she still recognized danger.

Abel rubbed his hands together. They rasped drily.

"I see that he's pampered you. I bet he feeds you nothing but honey and fruit. Keeping you succulent."

Emil smirked. "Sydney," he lisped through his fangs. Sophie repeated my name. Textbook vampire intimidation technique. Next, they'd make me look into their freaky, glowing eyes. Maybe they only wanted to scare me.

Maybe they were succeeding.

"What I want to know," Abel said, "is whether Malcolm Kelly will still take your hand when you reach for him after I've ruined you."

My heart stopped. Abel's eyes lit and he leaned forward, his mouth partly open.

"You're terrified." He rubbed at his chest with his fingertips, the fabric of his s.h.i.+rt bunching beneath long fingernails. "Is it true, how sensitive you are to us? That's perfect, truly. It's going to make it all the sweeter, that he'll know you can sense his disgust."

They were on me in an instant, yanking my arms outward and lifting me off of my feet. I kicked, then screamed when Emil bit into my upper arm. Sophie leaned across my body, tongue out, scenting the blood. Then her head dropped and her fangs tore into my breast. I screamed again, raggedly. My kicks had no effect but inside-inside I was winning. Their collective will reached for my mind, sharp, cold talons seeking to tear and twist. I deflected them, sparks bursting behind my eyes with each new slash they sought to make.

My mind was my own but I hurt, the pain of the bite and the wretched awareness of my blood being dragged the wrong way through my veins as they fed. I thrashed, even when their fangs started to tear through muscle. Holding still, accepting, wasn't an option.

And then they dropped me, both at the same time.

My knees gave out and I hit the ground. My chin tipped down, sweat and tears dripping off my face. My vision blurred.

"You're not done," Abel snapped, his anger harsh as a slap.

The male groaned, his hands pressed to the sides of his head. "She's poisoned," he rasped. "Poisonous."

"We didn't agree to die for you." The vampiress spat a red splotch onto the floor.

I managed to raise my head. Sophie clung to the door, her body shaking violently. Then her back arched and she...faded. The black of her hair melted away, the pigment disappearing as though it was being spontaneously washed out. She shoved her way out of the cell, moving stiffly, one fist pressed against her stomach. Between one step and the next her face changed, the features becoming more blunt. She had...s.h.i.+fted somehow. Like how Malcolm changed his appearance, but more p.r.o.nounced. Vampires had all kinds of skills, no two of them the same. She'd been the one to scope us, me and Mal, at Tenth World. And she'd been the one to grab me and crack my head against the wall.

Abel's expression was blank as he watched her run up the stairs. Emil stopped at Mickey's cell and lifted the latch. Motherf.u.c.k. Her cage hadn't even been locked.

"You want her chewed up, you do it," he growled at Abel. "I need to get the taste of that b.i.t.c.h out of my mouth." He glared at me as he pushed Mickey ahead of him up the stairs.

"A good bit of trickery," Abel ground out. "You do realize that whatever he injected you with will likely kill you? Imprudent, even for Kelly. Sleep well, Sydney Kildare." The lock clicked shut, and he was gone.

I waited, expecting another trick, another attack. A minute went by and, when nothing else happened, I forced my head to turn. A sobbing breath tore out of my throat as I peeled my s.h.i.+rt away. Blood ran down my side and my arm and pooled on the floor.

With my right hand, I fumbled through the b.u.t.tons of my work s.h.i.+rt. It was fine, I told myself. The bites weren't deep enough to kill me. They hadn't taken enough blood to kill me. Sitting in a cage wouldn't kill me, either. So there.

I took a deep, shaky breath. I wasn't going to die, not right now. Clenching my teeth around a scream, I pulled off my tank top. Using my teeth, I tore it into uneven strips and tied one around my arm. The other didn't fit around my chest, so I folded it and packed it against my chest, then levered my bra up to hold it in place. Close to pa.s.sing out, I wormed back into my work s.h.i.+rt and lay down, pressing my cheek to the cold floor.

The bite hadn't done anything to me. I hadn't been overwhelmed by the wills of the vampires. If anything, my blood had affected them worse than their attack had hurt me. I didn't know why they said I was poisonous, but if they believed it then maybe they'd f.u.c.king leave me alone. Which still didn't get Mickey or me out of here.

Tears leaked out of my eyes and turned to mud on the dirty floor. Pain was a good thing if it meant I was still me.

But would I be, when Abel was through with me?

Chapter Twelve.

An hour later, the door at the top of the stairs opened again. I sat up gingerly. I'd been pulling steadily from the vampires-there were at least a dozen crawling through the house above-though their energy was distant and erratic. While it hadn't healed me completely, at least my vision was clear again. My arm and chest throbbed, but each time I checked the wounds they looked a little better. If angry, scabbed-up tear marks could be considered "better."

I was thirsty as h.e.l.l and, after the fear had retreated enough, anger replaced it-a hot, steady beat that was as intense as it was futile. The fifty-pound sandbags surrounding the cage were stacked four high, and while I'd been able to push one off the top, all it did was b.u.t.tress the others. Unless they let me out during daylight, I didn't have much chance of getting away on my own.

Hopefully Derrick, my so-called bodyguard, had seen what happened and followed up. And, if not, Malcolm would start looking for me soon if he wasn't already. He'd been tracking Abel, circling him. Maybe he already knew about this place. Those thoughts should have been comforting, but my stomach knotted painfully. And then there was Mickey.

She was laughing as she reached the bottom of the stairs, a soft noise like one makes in her sleep. She swayed as she walked. Emil held her elbow with one hand and a bag with the other. He could have been good-looking if not for the smirk splitting his face, and that little thing where he was an amoral piece of s.h.i.+t. They were supposed to like humans, this group. Not kidnap, enthrall, and attack them.

He unlocked the door of my cage and pushed Mickey inside. Not gently, but not roughly. A businesslike push. She spun, arms wrapping around his neck, and plastered herself against him. Moaning, she kissed him, as if all the pleasure in the world came from his lips. Emil extracted himself, filling her arms with the grocery bag instead of himself.

"But you said you'd kiss me," she protested.

"And I kissed you. Now, be good. And eat." His gaze hardened when it landed on me. "You need to use the toilet?"

As if I'd go anywhere with him.

"No thank you." I wanted to spit curses at him, but it wouldn't hurt to make them believe the bite had worn away some of my will. He left without so much as a shrug.

"Isn't he something?" Mickey asked as she weaved across the s.p.a.ce and collapsed beside me. "He's a Finn, but he's been living in Canada for the last fifty years. In Quebec. It is more French than-"

"Mickey, what did he do to you?"

She waved dismissively and started pulling items out of the bag.

"Why did you kiss him?"

"He promised to kiss me if I was good."

"Good at what?"

"If I..." She paused and the bottle she held started shaking before she set it down. "If I helped him and his friends."

She was fully dressed and her clothes didn't look rumpled, but blood was already seeping through the white gauze taped to her neck.

"Are there any other humans up there? Anyone else...helping them?"

"Maybe." She scowled. "But only I get to feed Emil."

"Did he or his...friends..." I cleared my throat before I could go on. "Did they ask for you to help them in any other way, something besides the blood?"

She snorted and shook her head, angry. "No. And I was almost begging them to." She stared up at me with dark, gla.s.sy eyes. "It feels so good, when they bite. I want to crawl on top of them. I want to, G.o.d, just...anything."

I dropped my head back against the bars and crammed the heels of my palms against my eyes.

"Hey." Her hands pulled mine away from my face. "It's okay. Shhhh. It's okay. Emil said he will not let me embarra.s.s myself. He's looking out for me. Here. You must be hungry. This is...confusing. We're okay."

We weren't okay. Nothing was f.u.c.king going to be okay. I couldn't meet her eyes as I accepted the bottle she shoved at me. It wasn't her fault and I wouldn't-not ever-judge her for it. But the guilt that clawed through me was savage.

"Thank you." I drained half the bottle of water, watching numbly as she started opening packages of crackers, cheese, and fruit.

"Mickey, did you see Derrick at the spa?" I smiled encouragingly when she looked up. "The bodyguard guy. He was driving a beige Buick today."

Her brow furrowed, and she winced when she shook her head. Her hand rose toward her neck, then drifted away before making contact.

"No, no bodyguard. There was a pair of women. The one who came down awhile ago, the chameleon. And Emil and the other men. Males. They like to be called males, yes?"

"I don't think they care. Humans call them that." As if their gender became more formal in the undeath. "Is it night? Could you see out while you were upstairs?"

"I couldn't see out, but it's night." She bit into a cracker. "They had to wait for night to bring us here."

"Do you remember the roads? What kind of place are we in?"

"It's a house, a nice house. Three stories, very pretty lamps. It's not a neighborhood, though. It's like..." She thought while she chewed. Dark moons made her eyes look sunken. I pushed the fruit and cheese toward her. There had to be more nutrition in that than crackers. "There are many s.p.a.ces for houses, but this is the only one. Do you understand?"

"It's a development, maybe. They haven't finished building?"

"Yes. The roads are there, but it is only holes where the houses should go. It is far off the highway."

"Is there equipment out there? Machines or materials?" Hope made my voice float.

"No. It's very quiet."

And so much for hope. The addresses Mal had didn't describe the surroundings, and I didn't remember any sketches of unfinished building sites. I finished the water and tore at the paper label.

It was okay. He'd worked out all kinds of places Abel had occupied, and Soraya was some kind of super tracker. If she wanted me found, that is. She hadn't been too thrilled with me earlier.

My pulse picked up again, which made my wounds throb. I breathed deeply and wiped my hands on my pants then tried to make myself eat. Who knew how long we'd be here, or when they'd remember to feed us again. Vampires weren't known for their care, generally speaking, and we weren't guests.

When I glanced at Mickey again, her eyes were half-closed. She hummed to herself. As if it were okay to sit in a cage in the bas.e.m.e.nt, all chewed up, and eat out of a bag. She clearly didn't get what was happening, but maybe it was better that she wasn't afraid. If we could get out of here soon, get her away from the vampires who'd enthralled her, she'd be okay. Until she woke up.

My hands tightened into fists. I pulled myself up and paced stiffly, then stopped as a door opened overhead. Tilting my head up, I strained to listen. After a couple minutes, the rumble of an approaching car shook the ground around us. A powerful engine and heavy body probably meant a vampire-proofed car. My chest tightened at the hope that Malcolm had found us. With Bronson's soldiers at his back, it could be that simple. He'd drive up and get us the h.e.l.l out of here.

I glanced back. Mickey had pulled her knees up to her chest and was resting her head on her folded arms. If I could get her out of here tonight, now, she'd be good. We'd get her patched up and somewhere warm and comfortable, surrounded by her family, by people who would never have put her in this kind of position. And she'd recover. She'd thrive, as Thurston had said. Tears stung my eyes and I closed them. Heart thudding, I waited to hear a voice I recognized, to feel a thread of energy that felt like home.

Voices sounded, muddled and unfamiliar. Doors slammed, then the engine revved. And my heart sank as the car pulled away. Not coming. The car was picking up and going. Realization flared. Malcolm had invited Abel to Tenth World, tonight only. If Abel had wanted to throw us in Malcolm's face, he would have taken us. He hadn't, which meant he had other plans. It also meant that Malcolm wouldn't be coming tonight.

No wonder Abel hadn't touched me himself. Emil and Sophie, the ones who had, were still here. Malcolm would have no idea.

Adrenaline filled me and I walked the cage, standing on my toes and trying to see everywhere in the bas.e.m.e.nt. Surely there had to be a tool or weapon, something useful.

"Mickey, I think we can get out of here. Help me move these bags." I knelt and reached out with my right arm, trying to shove away the sandbags I'd been working on. This time pulling them off the sides rather than pus.h.i.+ng. If we could get them clear, we could lift the cage and escape. Her answer was a light snore that made me growl with frustration.

Even with her, I was alone. It wasn't her fault, but right now she couldn't even help herself. If I pushed her, she'd probably only rat me out to Emil. I'd been in bad situations before, with humans, but still. At some point, hope and reason were crushed by anxiety. Even if we managed to get upstairs, we'd be caught. There were still eight, maybe ten vampires up there. My arm would always carry a thick, nasty scar and, even in darkness, the fang marks on the top of my breast would be obvious. I didn't want any more scars, any more pain.

I held on to the bars as the strength drained out of me, then dropped beside Mickey. When I tipped her into my lap, she whimpered and wrapped her arms around me.

Abel was right. Strong feelings trumped rational thought. I'd thought he hated me, though all I'd ever done was defend myself from him, but he hated Malcolm more. A lot more. And that didn't bode well for us, insignificant humans caught in the crossfire.

"You're okay," I whispered, repeating her earlier words as I stroked Mickey's hair. "You're fine. You'll be fine."