Night's Deep Hush: Reveler Series 4 (13 page)

“Where’s the boy’s dad?” the madman who’d attacked her asked. He still had that strange blood on his hands.

“He’s dead,” Mirren said. “Over three years ago now. He was going to shoot my father and free me, but he handed the gun over and my father shot him instead.”

She’d freed herself as soon as she’d been able.

“Where were you when this happened?” The madman advanced toward her.

“Standing right there.”

He didn’t say anything, so she looked over to read the judgment that was surely in his eyes, and found him gazing down at her. But only his own deep trouble lurked within. “I’m sorry I attacked you.”

“No harm done, and besides, you’re here now.” And she was so relieved he was. This tall man who was so hard he could’ve been cut out of stone. He’d already fought the night and won. Here he was, prepared to do it again. There was no way
he’d
snivel in front of her father.

“I’m Vincent Blackman, by the way.” He held out a stained hand.

This was the end of everything, so she put hers inside it. “Mirren Isabelle Lambert.”

“We’re going to survive, you know,” Vince said, tightening his hold slightly.

“Okay.” She didn’t believe it.

“And then I’m going to take you to bed.”

Wordlessly, she pulled back her hand and looked away. Her heartbeat accelerated, her body suddenly very aware of his proximity, but she figured she had nothing to worry about now, not with their imminent doom.

“Do you think David will be okay with them?” she finally managed.

This waiting was torture.

“There’s no one more capable than Jordan,” Vincent said. “They have a lot of resources to draw from, and a lot of heart. That was a smart move to take him out of the fray. You got very lucky.”

“Lucky…” At the last moment, yes. Very. David was away from this. She had nothing to complain about. She’d been breaking into little pieces inside, and now she felt more solid, braver, and so relieved that he was beyond her father’s reach. “Yes.”

She looked back up at the madman—Vincent Blackman—beside her. He terrified her, but in an exhilarating way. She decided she was going to do everything differently. To prove it to herself, she put a hand on his chest, over his heart, to steady herself, and went on tiptoe and kissed the man who was going to fight her father.

His mouth was hard, like the rest of him, but then he angled himself to scorch her with raw heat. She shuddered again. He caught her. When she dared to lift higher, he gathered her into his arms, his embrace a crucible to change her. The pressure and temperature of their collision made her malleable like her sand, loose and languid, and yet unbreakable. She drank in the sound that growled up from his chest and broke away, bruised, yet victoriously so, with a new knowledge. Lust was a power all its own.

“Fight first, bed after?” she asked.

“Yes, that’s right.”

He grabbed her hand just as her father broke the waters of sleep to stand before them.

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

 

Rook woke, but he didn’t open his eyes. The indignity of his situation reminded him not to move, that danger was still nearby. Two days under. Of course he’d pissed himself, and he reeked of it. His mouth felt glued shut. He was dehydrated, too. Weak with hunger. This was what his life on the streets had been like when he’d been a runaway. If he’d gotten high on silver, as he had back then, there’d be vomit nearby, as well, and maybe some poor fool who was slowly dying of Rêve addiction, too uninterested in the waking world to take care of himself.

Rook knew to ignore the discomfort and listen first. Conserve his energy for when he needed it. A kid somewhere close-by started crying and saying, “
Maman
,” but the footsteps that followed came to Rook’s room. The child wasn’t a danger to anyone; Chuck would come here first.

Rook kept his eyes closed, his breathing regular. A squeak of the floor told him someone was venturing near. When he felt the slightest change in the air, he surged up and grabbed Chuck by the neck. Something clattered to the floor, a syringe. Rook used cold rage to force Chuck down, putting a knee on his chest and lodging a foot in his groin.

Chuck coughed and made strangled noises, eyes bulging as if he had something to say. Rook didn’t want to hear it. He picked up the syringe meant for himself and jabbed it in Chuck’s arm. Pressed the plunger. Rook had no idea what was in it, but he felt pretty confident it would render Chuck immobile.

The child continued to cry, but Rook stayed where he was, holding Chuck down until he was absolutely sure the scumbag was out. When Rook finally stood up, he took a quick glance around the room. Cots on both sides, a couple of IV rigs, an old Rêve crown on the dusty floor.

He doubted any other guards were in the apartment—the scuffle with Chuck would’ve drawn them out by now—but just in case, he quietly dismantled an IV rig so that he could carry a metal rod with him.

Outside the bedroom door was a front room with a huge flatscreen and lots of black leather furniture. If he had to guess, it was Chuck’s place, which meant he’d let Mirren and her son live with him. A talent like Mirren’s meant serious power Darkside, so Rook wasn’t surprised. Chuck would’ve wanted to keep her close, keep her dependent. There were even a couple of toys scattered on the rug.

Nobody rushed him, so he turned toward what had to be David’s room and pushed open the door. The room was bigger than the one he’d been in, and there was a brand-new white crib with a mesh covering, which trapped the boy inside on his knees. He had an active IV drip going, taped to the hand that was pounding on the bars. “
Maman
!”

Rook stepped into the room and found that Mirren slept on a cot directly across from the crib. Rook hoped she’d wake soon, but he had a feeling it would be a while. If she didn’t come to soon, he’d have to arrange private care for her somehow. Another real-life Sleeping Beauty. It was what they called female revelers lost Darkside. So-called True Love kisses abounded, as a result, but Rook didn’t think his had the magic for her.

The crib cover was fixed with snaps and ties that Rook pulled apart to free David. The kid seemed way too big for a crib, anyway. “Hey, buddy.”


Maman
!” he screamed again.

Wow, those eyes. He had a diaper on him that made Rook breathe through his mouth, but otherwise the kid looked pretty good. “Let’s get rid of that IV, eh?”

Rook had experience both putting them in and taking them out, but the sticky medical tape was trickier. David screamed for Mirren some more as Rook pulled it off. “Oh, we’ll take care of her, too.” No idea how yet. “She’s like you, so she’s tough when she’s in her element. She’s kicking your granddad’s ass right now. Can you say
ass
?”

Rook sure wished Jordan would get here. How safe would it be to call his mom and ask what to do? And was it worth the fifty questions that would follow? Probably not.

The diaper was fashioned like a plastic-paper tighty-whitie but baggier. Like a plastic shopping bag for the butt. He slid it down, which just encouraged David to pee more. The spray went everywhere. “It’s okay, little man. Do your worst. I’m already disgusting.”

Disgusting and lightheaded.

Between the bedroom and bathroom Rook discovered just how bad David’s worst could be. Nothing Rook was wearing was salvageable. Rook tossed aside his rank T-shirt and peeled off his crusty jeans, then gulped water directly from the sink. He hosed David off in the shower—more angry tears. The little man drizzled more pee everywhere while Rook was looking for a towel and settled for what he hoped was a clean T-shirt of Mirren’s.

When the buzzer signaled someone had arrived downstairs—
Hallelujah, Jordan!—
Rook pressed the button to allow her in the building. A minute later he answered the apartment door mostly naked with kid throw up in his hair.

“Ass,” David said to her.

“For the love of God.” One look and Jordan seemed to understand. “Give him to me.”

“I had no idea what to do,” Rook said miserably.

“You did good.” Jordan leaned up and kissed him on the mouth. “You did great.” Kissed him again and swatted the door shut behind her.

“Ass,” said David again.

“I taught him that,” Rook confessed, looking into Jordan’s blue eyes.

Jordan looked deeply back into his. “And that’s the last time you’ll admit to it.”

“What are we going to do?” Rook swayed on his feet. Not the way he’d wanted to greet her after the past two days. He was disgusting, hungry, hollow, and confused. And most unnerving of all, the kid was straining against Jordan to get back into his arms.

Jordan let David go and she followed him, so that both of Rook’s arms were suddenly full. Except it felt like she was holding him up, too. “We’ll figure it out.”

 

 

THE END

 

 

Book Five in the Reveler Series will be released on August 11, 2014

 

THANK YOU!

 

 

Thank you for reading NIGHT’S DEEP HUSH. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.

 

If you have a minute, please consider leaving a short review online wherever you purchase books.

 

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OTHER BOOKS BY ERIN KELLISON

 

 

The Reveler Series

Darkness Falls (book one)

Lay Me Down (book two)

Darksider (book three)

Night’s Deep Hush (book four)

UNTITLED (book five - coming soon)

 

The Shadow Series

Shadow Bound (book one)

Shadow Fall (book two)

Shadowman (book three)

 

The Shadow Kissed Series

Fire Kissed (book one)

Soul Kissed (book two)

Night Kissed (book three - coming soon)

 

The Shadow Touch Novella Series

Shadow Touch (part one)

Shadow Play (part two)

Shadow Hunt (part three)

Shadow Burn (part four - coming soon)

 

Hotter On The Edge Anthologies

Anthologies of science fiction romance novellas

Hotter On The Edge

Hotter On The Edge 2

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

 

 

Erin Kellison is the
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author of the Reveler series, as well as the Shadow series and Shadow Kissed series, which share the same world, where dark fantasy meets modern fairy tale. RT calls
Soul Kissed
, “a dark fairy tale with a twist, perfect for readers who love passion with their fantasy.”

 

 

 

NIGHT’S DEEP HUSH

 

Copyright © 2014 by Erin Kellison

 

ISBN: 978-0-9904107-7-5

 

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this book. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without the express written permission of both the copyright holder and the publisher.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

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