Now Comes the Night (15 page)

Pretending it didn’t exist, or that the danger and pain it represented—a danger that continued to threaten them all—didn’t exist, was foolish. Besides, it amused him to see how Heather had handled her fears, and her frustration with his refusal. Using glitter and Day-Glo spray paint and pulsing lights, she’d managed to turn the once-forbidding structure into a work of industrial art. It was now both practical and pretty—in a My-Little-Pony-vomited-rainbows kind of way. Which actually suited Marc’s plan even better. Looking at it now, no one would ever guess that, if he needed to, he could have it returned to prison-cell status with little more than the snap of his fingers.

Suddenly, something in the atmosphere shifted. Marc straightened up, scanning the crowd, searching for the source of the disturbance. “Shit. What now?” And just when things were going so well too.

The men beside him stiffened in alarm. “Something wrong, boss?” Nighthawk asked cautiously.

“Yes, there’s something wrong,” Marc snapped, biting off his next remark—
can’t you feel it
?—when he realized they couldn’t. “There.” He pointed at a lithe, elegant figure calmly making its way through the eddying crowd, blond hair gleaming in the flashing lights. Georgia. “See that? What’s she doing here?”

Nighthawk and the other guard exchanged looks. Nighthawk grimaced. “Whatever she fucking wants to, that’s what.”

“What?” Marc blinked in surprise. Not the response he’d been expecting. He shook his head. “No. Fuck that. Not in here she doesn’t. Let’s go.” He headed for the stairs, but Nighthawk stepped in front of him, blocking his way.

“Boss, wait. You don’t want to mess with her. She’s dangerous. Don’t you know what she is?”

“Dangerous?” Marc snapped. “Really? And you think I’m not?” At the moment, he was feeling
very
dangerous.

“Not like her,” the other guard said from behind him. “She’s
Invitus
, man. They’re off-the-charts-scary. She’ll chew you up one side and down the other.”

Invitus
. Like Conrad. Marc nodded. Yeah, that explained a lot, didn’t it? “Good to know. Thanks for filling me in. Now, out of my way, Hawk. I mean it.”

The glare Marc shot at Nighthawk had the big man flinching. Surprisingly, he stood his ground. Lowering his head, like a wounded bull, he whined, “C’mon, man, don’t do this. We’ve got a good thing going here. Don’t screw things up for us now. We need you.”

Marc blew out an exasperated breath. They did need him. That was exactly his point. And he needed to get downstairs. Now. He could feel fear spreading through the crowd below him like a slow, black tide, rippling outward. How long until it edged over into panic? How long before the entire club erupted in chaos?

“I don’t have time for this shit.” Turning away, Marc leaped onto the railing. He took a moment to orient himself, to catch his balance. Then he jumped. The air behind him shivered as Nighthawk rushed forward in a last-minute attempt to grab him and pull him back, but Marc was already out of reach. He hurtled through the air, landing with a loud crash on the top of the cage. Dozens of eyes turned in his direction. As they tracked his progress, he could feel each gaze like twin pinpricks of pressure, like tiny lasers scoring his skin. He ignored them. Three quick steps across the metal mesh took him to the other side of the structure where he launched himself once again into space.

This time, he landed in a crouch on the concrete floor, exactly where he wanted to be, less than a foot and a half in front of Georgia. She stiffened and snarled, blue fire flashing in her eyes. Marc felt buffeted by the force of her anger. For just an instant, an unreasoning terror ripped through him. Then it was gone, swept away on the rising tide of his own anger. These were
his
people. This was
his
place. And she was putting everything he was working toward at risk just by coming here.

He rose to his feet and coolly met her gaze. “Hello, Georgia. What are you doing here?”

Georgia’s eyebrows rose. She seemed speechless at first, a state of affairs that, sadly, didn’t last too long. She recovered almost as fast as he had. A small smile curved her lips. “Marc. My, my. You do have a most interesting way of greeting people, don’t you? And, it’s funny, but I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“What am I doing here?” Marc shrugged. “What’s it look like? I’m throwing a party. And, I’m sorry, but you’re not invited.”

Georgia shook her head. “Such manners. I wonder what Conrad would think of this behavior?”

“I’m sure he’d be good and pissed.” That was for damned certain and maybe it should have given Marc pause. It didn’t. “So why don’t you run back to the mansion now and tell him all about it?”

Georgia’s smile grew wider. “Big words, fledgling. I shall quite enjoy watching him discipline you.”

“Yeah, I bet you would like that, wouldn’t you?” Marc ignored the fledgling gibe. If she wanted to think he was newly turned, let her. If she was fishing for information, on the other hand, he wasn’t taking her bait. “I’ll be sure to give you a heads up so you can be on hand.
If
it happens.” And, who knew? Maybe this time it would. He couldn’t recall any other time that he and Conrad had been so much at odds with one another—not even when he was a teenager. The breakdown in his relationship with his sire was not something of which Marc was proud. Unfortunately, his other responsibilities took priority. If Conrad couldn’t understand that…well then, Marc was just going to have to find a way to make him understand, or suffer the consequences. “On the other hand, I’m asking you nicely. If you don’t leave now, maybe
I’ll
be the one complaining to Conrad and
you’ll
be the one he disciplines.”

It had been a shot in the dark, but apparently it struck its mark. Georgia blanched slightly. “I didn’t come here looking for a fight, Marc. I merely wish to speak with you. In private. It’s in your own best interests to hear me out, you know. But, if you’d rather not…” She shrugged, her meaning clear. If he wanted a fight, that was fine with her. If he wouldn’t listen to what she had to say, that was fine too. Either way, it was his funeral.

And either way, it would cause a ruckus—something he was trying desperately to avoid. Marc nodded. “Okay. Fine. You’ve got five minutes.” He wasn’t sure he believed her, but he saw no reason to take unnecessary chances. He really wasn’t the spoiled child she so obviously thought him, even though he did tend to act that way around her more than he cared to admit. No doubt that was Damian’s influence at work.

Marc turned his head. He’d felt Nighthawk creep up a few moments earlier to stand several paces away. Now, he pinned him with a gaze. “I’m going up to my office. Keep an eye on things down here. If anything happens I want to be informed of it. Immediately. No playing Lone Ranger and trying to deal with stuff on your own. Got it?” Eventually, he’d have to trust them to monitor things for themselves but not tonight. With Georgia here, itching to report back to Conrad if anything went wrong, now was definitely not that time.

“I want to come with you,” Heather whispered, slipping her hand into his. She was shivering a little as she pressed her shoulder into his arm and Marc could smell her fear.

“I’d like that too,” he told her. “But then who’s going to keep an eye on the big guy for me? Make sure he stays in line, okay?”

Heather nodded. “Okay.”

Then she turned to scowl at Nighthawk who rolled his eyes and muttered. “Yeah, that’s great. Just what I need.”

“All right, c’mon.” Marc jerked his head in the direction of the stairs. Georgia took the hint and preceded him. If she was nervous about having him behind her, she gave no indication of it. It could have been an act, but Marc was pretty sure she wasn’t putting on a show. From what he’d observed, Georgia didn’t fear much and if she was really
Invitus
, he guessed she didn’t need to. He could sense the power within her. He had from the start. And while he could sort of understand why that might freak some people out, especially the ferals who were jumpy enough all on their own, he didn’t feel threatened by it himself. If anything, it turned him on.

It was an odd state of affairs, and not necessarily a good thing. And, come to think of it, that was probably Damian’s fault as well.

Georgia hesitated when she reached the top of the stairs and looked to him for direction. Marc took the lead and guided her down the walkway to the room he’d designated for his personal use. He was pretty sure it had been Audrey’s before him, if the wall of video screens and the shelves of books were anything to go by. Not to mention the massive desk—so large it had to have been assembled inside the room.

He’d re-routed the camera feeds and had the desk emptied and its contents boxed up but, other than that, and except for the addition of a comfortable couch where he could sleep on the days he didn’t feel like going home, he hadn’t really made any changes.

Georgia had stopped a few paces into the room. She glanced around curiously. Marc left her standing where she was and went to sit behind his desk. It was a fairly imposing piece of furniture, but he wasn’t surprised when she failed to be intimidated by its majestic bulk.

“I still don’t understand what you’re doing here,” she said as she seated herself in the visitor’s chair. “Or what all those creatures downstairs are doing here either.”

Creatures? Marc bristled at the term. “And I still don’t understand how that’s any of your business.”

“Conrad has charged me with the task of finding the vampire who used to run this place,” Georgia answered. “Among other things. That’s how it’s my business. And, even if you weren’t motivated by a desire to assist our sire in any way he wishes, which I should certainly think you would be, one would imagine you might also have a more
personal
reason for wanting her found.”

Marc leaned back in his chair, resisting the urge to adjust the patch that concealed his missing eye. “Personal. Yeah, that’d be one way of putting it.” He certainly couldn’t fault Georgia’s logic on that one. Popping his eye out of its socket had always seemed damned personal to him as well.

“And, yet, instead of helping you seem determined to interfere, to impede my investigation, to thwart Conrad’s very wishes. Frankly, I find your behavior incomprehensible.”

“I don’t see how my being here interferes with anything
you’re
doing to find Audrey. And I’m certainly not bothering Conrad either.”

“Audrey, is it? I find it curious that you know her name.”

“Really? You think it’s curious that I’d remember the name of the woman who half-blinded me less than two months ago? Why’s that? It was my eye she got, not my brain. Besides, she told it to me.” That was not quite true, but it was close enough. “Seems like the kind of thing that would stick with you, know what I mean? Anyway, you still haven’t answered my question. How am I bothering you?”

“This warehouse is the logical place to begin looking for clues as to her whereabouts. I should think that would be obvious, even to you. Having it occupied like this makes the searching that much harder—if not impossible.
Ergo
, interference.”

“Nice argument. I’d almost buy it too, if I didn’t happen to know for a fact that you already searched this place weeks ago.” Conrad had assured Marc that had been the case. On the night Marc had been injured Conrad had sworn to him that people had been sent to the warehouse and would tear it apart, top to bottom searching for anything that would shed light on the case. He’d sworn no stone would be left unturned, no effort would be spared. He’d sworn that Audrey would be found… Right now it was looking like Team Conrad was batting a thousand. “What do you think you’ll be able to find now that you didn’t find then?”

“If I knew what we’d missed, I would have made sure it wasn’t missed the first time, wouldn’t I?” Georgia’s eyes flashed. “Besides, my primary goal that first evening was not to track your…friend…down. My priority was to destroy and confiscate anything having to do with her experiments, so that’s what we concentrated our efforts on. This time around, it’s different. Not that I should have to explain myself, but I’ll be looking for anything that might suggest where she’s gone, or who might be helping her.”

Helping her? Like Elise, perhaps? Marc shook his head. He didn’t want to think that way but right now he had to. If only he’d realized sooner that there might still be clues to find here. If there was anything that could implicate Elise—or, better yet—might help lead him to her, he’d make damned sure he found it first. “I don’t know what to tell you, Georgia. It sounds like a waste of time to me.”

“Does it? Why don’t you let me worry about that? You
do
want her found, don’t you, Marc?”

“Who, Audrey?” Marc raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “Nah, why would you think something like that? I actually like going to sleep every day knowing she’s still out there just waiting for a chance to kidnap someone else, maybe kill them this time. Or that she might want to come back for me and finish what she started. That pretty much fucking makes my night.”

“Charming.”

“You know what I don’t like, though? I don’t like the mess you’ve made of things so far. I don’t like you coming back here looking for a do-over on all the mistakes and slip-ups you shouldn’t have made the first time around. I don’t like the feeling I’m getting right now that says you’ve done absolutely nothing these past few weeks, that you’ve made no real progress whatsoever, and that you’re no closer to finding her than you were at the start. That’s something I
really
don’t like.”