Читать книгу Dark Kiss - Michelle Rowen - Страница 13

I’d burned all day with the need to get back to Crave and confront Stephen, but now that I was here I’d started to doubt myself. I guess I’d focused on my plan—weak though it was—as a way to keep from thinking too much about what had happened with Bishop and Kraven.

I wasn’t convinced that I was some sort of soul-devouring monster now. No way. I was still me, nothing had changed that. But something was wrong. Really wrong. And I had to fix it.

“Are you even sure the jerk is here?” Carly scanned the floor looking for him.

“He told me he’s here every night lately, even weekdays. He’s taking a break from school right now, that’s why he’s back in town.”

“Doesn’t he live near you?”

“Two doors down.”

“We could have gone there to check.”

“I already checked. His parents don’t even know he’s in the city.” I’d called his house after school. I’d had a feeling he wouldn’t be there, but his mother’s reply that “he’s at school” was enough to convince me that if I couldn’t find him at Crave, I might not be able to find him at all. Besides, I didn’t want to chance being alone with him. I wanted to confront him in a public place.

“Okay, so where is he?” Carly asked. “Let’s do this.”

She thought my feelings were hurt and I wanted to lash out, and as my best friend, she was ready to back me up.

Just like with my mother, I hadn’t breathed a word to her about what was really going on. I wasn’t sure what was stopping me, exactly. Carly, of all people, would probably believe there were angels and demons roaming the city.

But still I didn’t speak up. She liked to protect me from people who might pick on me. Well, I’d like to protect her from people who might do worse than throw out a few insults. Cruel names might hurt feelings, but sharp golden daggers could kill.

I did wish very hard that I could stop thinking about Bishop. He was constantly on my mind now. If he hadn’t shown up today, I had little doubt that Kraven would have killed me.

It was an incredibly sobering thought. I owed my gratitude to Bishop for saving my life, and yet he’d threatened it himself just the night before.

“I need to talk to Stephen on my own,” I said. “You should stay here and wait for me.”

She eyed me. “Oh, I get it. So I’m just your chauffeur, huh? I don’t get a chance to tell him off, too?”

“Believe me, I don’t think that. Although, I won’t say that you having a car isn’t a nice perk.” I couldn’t help but grin at her mock outrage. “This is just something I need to handle myself. Less embarrassing that way.”

She considered this. “So what if he’s all schmoozy? All, ‘I really want to kiss your delectable lips again’? You’re just going to ignore it?”

“That isn’t going to happen.” Even if Stephen was one hundred percent innocent, his reaction to me after the kiss spoke volumes. I mean, he’d called me kid. No, I had more important things to deal with than falling for some self-involved college guy right now, no matter how cute I’d always found him.

It was funny how completely this had doused my crush on him. Like a bucket of water thrown on a lit match.

Also, my immediate and overpowering attraction to Bishop—and the fact that I couldn’t get him off my mind—had shown me that my little crush on Stephen had been just that. Little.

“You were really into him. What, are you interested in somebody else now?” she asked.

There was a catch in her voice that made me direct my attention away from scanning the dark club to her again. “What?”

She cleared her throat. “Jordan saw you talking to Colin in the hall this morning. She said you were standing really close.”

I winced. Damn Jordan. My personal nemesis and a total gossip. “It was nothing.”

Her eyebrows went up and she finally raised her gaze from the ground to meet mine. I saw relief there. “Really?”

It wasn’t nothing, but getting into details about him asking me out and then me wanting to kiss him probably wouldn’t earn me any brownie points as a loyal best friend.

“I know Colin’s totally off-limits,” I confirmed instead. “I promise, there’s no way I’d be interested in him like that. But why are you worried that I’ve been talking to him?”

“I’m done with him. But …” She rubbed her temples. “My brain is going to explode just thinking about this.”

“Let’s hope not.”

“I don’t want to be with him anymore, but I don’t want him to be with anyone else. Does that make some kind of bizarre, psycho ex-girlfriend kind of sense?”

“Sure it does.”

She laughed before sobering. “No, it doesn’t. I know that. He’s just the first guy who … you know, the first one to really like me.”

My heart felt heavy for her. I had to be really careful how I acted around Colin from now on. I didn’t want to give him—or Carly—the wrong impression. “Sorry this sucks so much for you. And you need to open your eyes when it comes to other guys. Paul is crazy about you, but you’ve never even looked in his direction. If you want to start dating again, you should give him a chance.”

She frowned. “Paul? Paul McKee?”

“The one and only.” He was a friend who always ate lunch with us. A pal, really. But I’d have to be blind not to see the very nonpal way he gazed across the table at Carly on a daily basis. Of course, she never noticed, because she was usually gazing somewhere else.

I scanned the nightclub. It wasn’t nearly as busy as it had been on Friday. On school nights it became a restaurant that only looked like a club—like a school cafeteria, but better decorated, with cooler lighting and a sound track. The dance floor was deserted and the place shut down at eleven o’clock instead of 1:00 a.m. A quick inhale brought forth the scent of chicken wings, fries and onion rings. Not healthy, but definitely delicious.

Something else smelled fantastic in here, but I couldn’t put my finger on what.

Souls, a little voice inside me said. You can smell the souls of all the people near you.

The thought nauseated me. Hopefully nobody would get as close to me as Colin had earlier today. That seemed to be what set me off.

“There’s lover boy now,” Carly said, snapping me out of my daze. “You’re right, he is here every night.”

Sure enough, looking every bit as gorgeous as ever in black pants and a white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, Stephen walked along the side of the empty dance floor toward the spiral staircase leading to the upstairs lounge.

“Okay, I can do this,” I said aloud, trying to summon some inner strength.

“Are you going to talk to him?” Carly asked. “Or just punch him in the nose?”

An excellent question.

He’d done something to me—he’d even warned me about it first. He’d given me this hunger I couldn’t get rid of, this craving that now haunted me every moment I was awake and the chill that stayed with me from morning till night.

I was ready to confront Stephen.

Something wicked this way comes.

This time I was talking about myself.

“Wait here,” I told Carly. “Please.”

“You sure you don’t want me there for support?”

“I’m sure,” I said. Kissing Stephen had led to me almost getting killed. It wasn’t something I wanted Carly involved with. Her being here tonight was bad enough.

She nodded. “Good luck. Give him hell.”

I grimaced. Hell wasn’t something I even wanted to consider after meeting a demon today. Slowly, I started up the stairs.

It’ll change your life forever, so you have to want it.

I wondered if Stephen said that to all the girls. But I didn’t want a kiss tonight. All I wanted was answers.

Stephen sat in the corner of the upstairs lounge on a plush red velvet chair. He watched my cautious approach as if not at all surprised to see me again.

“Samantha Day,” he greeted me. “How are you this evening?”

My mouth felt dry. Very dry. I tried to ignore how nervous I was. “I need to talk to you.”

“But you didn’t answer my question. How are you?”

“Not good,” I admitted.

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Are you?”

“Of course I am.” He gave me a charming smile I couldn’t help but respond to. He really was cute, that much hadn’t changed since he’d potentially destroyed my life. He waved at the chair beside him. “Please, have a seat.”

I swallowed hard, wanting to resist, but deciding to do as he said. I glanced around the lounge as I took a seat on the soft chair. There were about a half dozen other kids in this area, scattered around. Some were reading books, as if this was a relaxing hangout. Some were talking to each other. I didn’t recognize any of them.

Doubt clouded my mind when I met Stephen’s eyes again. Suddenly, I felt young—really young—and uncertain.

“You walked away after you kissed me,” I said, and immediately felt silly. Like some jilted teenager who drew hearts in her binder all day long and daydreamed about boys.

What happened to my decision to be strong and demand answers?

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Really.”

His answer surprised me. “You are?”

“I needed to—” his dark brows drew together “—take care of something important. And it couldn’t wait a moment longer or it would have been too late.”

I eyed him skeptically. “What did you do to me?”

“Excuse me?”

“When you kissed me. You did something bad.”

“Is that what you think?”

“That’s what I know.”

He leaned back in his chair, studying me as if looking for clues to the same mystery I wanted solved. “It was just a kiss, nothing more. Sorry if you took it to mean more than that. I like you, Samantha, but like I said, you’re a bit too young for—”

There was no time for eloquence, so I just blurted it out. “Did you do something to my soul?”

His brows went up. “Excuse me?”

“Just answer my question.” Now I sounded impressively strong, considering I was quaking inside.

Stephen stood up and moved toward the glass barrier to look down at the rest of the club. He didn’t reply.

After a long moment, with only the boom of the music below filling my ears, I got up and approached him. “It did something, that kiss. It changed me. Didn’t it?”

“I did warn you,” he said.

I’d wanted him to look confused or annoyed by me talking to him about this. I’d wanted him to not know what the hell I was talking about. But it was all too clear that he knew exactly what I meant. This wasn’t a misunderstanding or an epic practical joke. This was real.

I had to be careful with him. My instincts told me that much.

I chanced a look around the lounge to see that our discussion hadn’t earned so much as a curious glance from the other kids. “You did something to my soul, I know that much. They called me a gray. Why would you do that to me and then just let me walk away with no warning of what might happen?”

“A gray?” He frowned. “Who have you been talking to about this?”

I pressed my lips together. I was the one asking questions here, not answering them.

Stephen went back to the chair and sat down again, grabbed a beer that sat on a black lacquered table and took a swig from it. Suddenly, I wanted to make a joke, maybe something about him having a fake ID. My usual reaction to unpleasant things was to try to be funny. It was a defense mechanism I’d developed during my parents’ very unamicable split. Or so my guidance counselor told me when I’d gotten in trouble for snarking on one of my teachers.

Laughing was way better than crying, as far as I was concerned. At the moment, however, I didn’t feel like doing either.

“Stephen,” I growled. It was pissing me off that he was so unwilling to tell me what I needed to know.

He settled back in the chair, looking like a handsome prince on a velvet throne. “I did what I was told to do, and then I had to leave. I’m not supposed to explain. She’ll tell you all about it when she’s ready.”

I stared at him blankly. “Who?”

His jaw tightened. “You’re supposed to be special. She said you were, or I would have at least warned you about the hunger …” He trailed off and then frowned at me, looking into my eyes. “But you’re able to fight it, aren’t you? Even without me telling you anything about it first. I’m thinking that’s exactly what makes you special. You don’t seem any different than you were before.”

My mind spun. I didn’t understand. “I’m hungry all the time.”

“But you’re not feeding. She didn’t think you would.”

My shivering increased. I knew he wasn’t talking about potato chips or cheeseburgers. “Who the hell is she?”

“I can’t tell you that. Not yet.” He swore under his breath. “I knew you were too young.”

“Tell me what you did to me,” I demanded. “What is this hunger? I keep eating and eating and I can’t get full.”

He shook his head, still staring at me as if my admitting the hunger surprised him. “Food won’t satisfy you. Not anymore.”

My bottom lip wobbled as I started to lose my composure. “What am I?”

He stood up and reached toward me, gently tucking a piece of long, dark hair behind my ear. His expression regained its previous confidence and he smiled. “This is a good thing, Samantha. You’re something even more special now. Something amazing.”

Bishop had called me special, too, shortly before he’d put that knife to my throat. Call me crazy, but the word put me on edge.

“I’m a—a gray,” I said, my throat tight enough that it was difficult to breathe.

His smile wavered and an edge of confusion slid behind his gaze as if he wasn’t familiar with the term. But that was what Bishop and Kraven had called it. “What you are isn’t a bad thing. It really isn’t. But you do have to be careful. There are ways of controlling the hunger through the kiss.” He leaned close to whisper in my ear. “You and me—we can practice now, if you like, without doing any harm. Whenever we want to.”

Practice kissing with Stephen Keyes. A week ago it would have sounded like a dream come true, but now …

It didn’t feel like a dream. Only a nightmare could make me feel like this.

I half expected him to rip off his face to show a literal monster underneath, just before he attacked me. But he didn’t do any ripping or attacking.

When Stephen took my hand in his, I yanked it away from him. His skin was cold and it made me shudder.

He blinked. “Our body temperatures are lower now. You’ll get used to it. It’s one of the side effects of not having a soul.”

Finally—confirmation. He’d somehow managed to steal my soul in that kiss.

“How do I get it back?” My voice broke.

He cocked his head to the side. “Why would you want it back? You’re better now.”

He was infuriating. How could he be so calm about something like this? “Because—because it’s my soul. You took it and I want you to give it back. Now.”

His expression didn’t change as he sat down again. “I can’t give yours back to you. I gave in to the hunger just as she told me to. And now it’s gone.”

Panic twisted inside me. My soul was gone. Something I hadn’t really thought about as a tangible piece of me had been ripped away and destroyed without my permission.

My hands clenched into fists at my sides. “You can’t just steal something so important from me and expect I’m going to be okay with that. Who told you to do this to me?”

His eyes narrowed. “A soul is a burden on a human, an anchor. Trust me … you’re better off without it. I never knew how much my soul held me back, but it did. I was miserable—self-doubting, worried, anxious, living a life others planned for me. I had no control over myself. Now I do. The world has opened up to me. It was my soul that held me back. You’ll come to see that I’m telling the truth. The hunger can be managed. It’s all worth it.”

If that was his sales pitch for Devour your soul? Ask me how! I was unimpressed, to say the least. In fact, I was so mad I wanted to spit.

But, mad or not, it was too late. He’d done it. My soul was gone. And now I hungered to do the same to others as Stephen had done to me. This wasn’t going to get any better; it was only going to get worse. That must be what had happened with Colin in the hallway this morning. I’d been so close … too close …

I turned and stalked away. My mind was a jumble of information and I had no idea how to process it all.

“Where are you going?” Stephen’s hand closed on my upper arm and he jerked me to a stop before I reached the staircase, wrenching me back around to face him.

I guess he was also done with being pleasant.

“Let go of me!” I snarled, trying to fight the burning sting of tears in my eyes.

Unfortunately, no protective zapping occurred to blast him back from me like it had this morning with Kraven.

I half expected his eyes to glow red like the demon’s had, but they remained the same caramel color as always. “I have some questions for you, too, Samantha. You can’t just walk away from me yet.”

I looked around at the other kids for help, but they still weren’t paying attention to us. Considering our heated discussion and the fact he was now physically restraining me from leaving, that surprised me.

“Help!” I called out, loud enough to be heard over the constant musical background to Crave. “He won’t let me leave!”

“Don’t bother,” Stephen said. “They’re all with me—my new brothers and sisters. Your new brothers and sisters.”

A gasp caught in my throat. “But they look so normal.”

“They’re better than normal.”

A second glance showed they were all very attractive, well dressed and had an air of self-confidence. Stephen had said losing your soul was a freeing experience. Looked like these grays agreed with him.

If that was so, then why didn’t I feel that way?

“Now, my question …” He pulled me closer. “Who have you been talking to about this since Friday night? I need to know.”

“Why do you care?”

“If there’s someone out there with knowledge of us, they might not understand. They might try to get in the way. She won’t like that.” His grip tightened. I tried to pull away but I couldn’t. “Answer me, Samantha. Who were you talking to?”

“She was talking to me.”

I whipped my head around. Bishop was standing at the top of the stairs. Our eyes met and held for a brief but intense moment before he shifted his focus to Stephen.

“Who the hell are you?” Stephen snapped.

“Let Samantha go and maybe we’ll talk about it.”

Stephen released me. His tight grip had left a red imprint on my skin. His angry expression shifted to neutral as he eyed Bishop.

“There,” he said pleasantly. “I let her go.”

“You grab girls a lot around here?” Bishop glanced around the lounge area.

Stephen smirked. “Usually it’s the other way around.”

“How nice for you. So you’re the one who did this to her, aren’t you?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Bishop’s gaze flicked to me as I rubbed my arm. “You okay?”

While I was glad he’d gotten Stephen to let go of me, I wasn’t running into Bishop’s arms with gratitude. “Did you follow me here?”

“Something like that.”

I let out a frustrated groan. “Can’t anyone just talk to me straight? Why is everyone avoiding my damn questions tonight?”

Bishop’s brows went up. “Okay, fine. Yes, I followed you here. Better?”

“Yes. Stalkery, but better.”

“I’m not stalking you.”

“Spoken like a true stalker.”

“So let me start again.” Stephen eyed Bishop with distaste. “Who are you and what do you want?”

There was nothing pleasant about the way Bishop studied him back. In fact, he looked predatory. “You’re the one who kissed Samantha, aren’t you?”

Again, Stephen didn’t seem inclined to answer that particular question, so I did it for him.

“It was him,” I said. “Here on Friday night.”

Bishop’s glare turned into a glower. “Why wouldn’t you explain what it meant to her? What she could expect? It was the least you could do.”

“Luckily for her, you filled her in on the details. Didn’t you?” Stephen walked an appraising circle around Bishop. “I don’t know you. You’re not one of us, which makes me wonder what business it is of yours what I do.”

“Trust me, it’s my business.”

Stephen shrugged. “She liked it. She was practically begging me to kiss her.”

He was such a jerk. Begging? Hardly.

A muscle in Bishop’s cheek twitched. “She didn’t understand what it meant.”

“She’s with me now.” Stephen drew closer, as if challenging Bishop to push him back. “You got a problem with that?”

“Excuse me?” I snapped. “I’m with you? Not the last time I checked.”

He gave me an amused look. “You’ll get used to the idea eventually. Be happy about it, even.”

“Don’t count on it.”

“Where’s the Source?” Bishop asked evenly. “Is it you?”

Stephen didn’t speak for a moment, but then he laughed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. The one who created you. Created all of you. I need to talk to him or her. Soon. We have important things to discuss.”

Stephen grabbed hold of the front of Bishop’s T-shirt. “No, what I think you need to do is leave now. And Samantha is going to stay right here with me, where she belongs. Give her a few minutes and she’ll be enjoying herself. She might be only seventeen, but that’s more than old enough for the fun I have planned for her.”

The next moment, Stephen gasped as the tip of the golden dagger pressed up under his chin.

Stephen’s chest moved in and out as his breathing increased. “Get that thing away from me.”

“Why would I? From what you’ve told me so far, I’m thinking you’re just a minion. You’re meaningless. You turned an underage girl against her will and gave her the hunger. I don’t care if she wanted to kiss you or not. She didn’t know what it meant. You didn’t explain it. That she isn’t now consuming souls all over the city is her saving grace in my eyes. She’s different than the rest of you. She’s special.”

There was that word again in relation to yours truly. Special.

Bishop had finally gotten the attention of the others hanging out in the lounge area, but not one made a move to help Stephen. Couldn’t say I blamed them. That knife was very sharp.

And—oh, boy. I think it was glowing a little, just like Bishop’s eyes had last night. That was no normal knife. And Bishop was no normal guy.

But I already knew that.

The corner of Stephen’s mouth turned up in a half grimace, half grin. “You’re going to kill me right here? In the middle of a club full of kids? You’ll never get out in one piece.”

“Nice of you to worry about my well-being. Thanks for that. Now, why don’t you make things easier on both of us. Where is the Source?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then you’re not much use to me, are you?” Bishop dug the sharp tip of the knife deep enough that a thin trail of blood ran down Stephen’s throat.

Stephen’s voice turned pitchy. “She doesn’t just stroll in here shaking hands and kissing babies. I don’t find her, she finds me.”

“At least now I know it’s a she.”

An edge of defeat went through Stephen’s eyes. “Are you going to kill me?”

“And risk opening up the Hollow in here? Not tonight.”

Stephen frowned. “The Hollow?”

Bishop gave him a wry grin. “Guess your boss hasn’t told you everything, has she? Sucks for you. When was the last time you fed?”

“Friday. With Samantha. The others here aren’t feeding.”

“And why is that?” Bishop actually looked amused by this. “You know what happens if you feed too much? Have you seen it with your own eyes?”

Stephen’s expression shadowed and, if you ask me, went a little green. “The one you’re calling the Source tells us what to do. She warned us what could happen if we get too greedy, and most of us believed her.”

“Does she come here?”

“No. This is where I hang out. She’s never been here before.”

Bishop’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t approach Samantha again.”

“I didn’t approach her. She came here.”

“I don’t care. From this moment forward, she’s under my protection.”

“Your protection? Who the hell are you?”

“Tell your boss that this entire city is now protected by me and others like me and I will find her for that conversation I mentioned. I’m sure she already knows she can’t leave—that none of you can. You’re trapped. There’s an invisible barrier surrounding this entire city that things like you can’t breach.”

Stephen frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“That’s painfully obvious.” Bishop finally let him go and Stephen staggered back a couple steps. His gaze returned to the golden dagger as Bishop sheathed it. “By the way, if I ever see you again, I will kill you, whether you’re feeding regularly or not. Have a nice night.”

Then he turned, took my arm and guided me down the stairs.

Nobody followed us.