The Witching Hour (The Grim Reaper Saga (Urban Fantasy Romance)) (14 page)

He nodded, waiting for her to explain where exactly
it
was, but it seemed that’s all she’d say on the matter.

The busy section of San Francisco--filled to bursting with humans--thinned out the deeper they moved down the alleyways. Soon they were in Chinatown and cutting a winding path through tall, slanting apartment buildings.

Sirens wailed, cats screeched and hissed. A steady drip of water became a pounding, incessant noise in the background. Cian’s nerves were taut, his eyes roving the dark shadows. He could feel the supers like second skin; their individual powers washed over him and made him keenly aware of the dangers the night held. The reaper he’d sensed earlier came immediately to mind.

Again he grew anxious for her. His gaze roving through shadow, searching.

Then he caught scent of Were--many, of different varieties, wolves, panthers, bear, falcons… too many to count--thoughts of other reapers fled. He stopped, it was one thing to make her happy, but he refused to walk them headlong into danger. “Eve, where are we going?”

“Don’t worry. It’s someplace safe.” She tugged on his arm.

He ground his jaw, looked around, but when she tugged again he reluctantly continued. Then he felt something, a fluttering whisper of panic in the air--a metaphysical sensation of hands scraping at a delicate neck, fangs ripping through a jugular. A feeding.

“Get behind me,” he whispered, grabbing and shoving her behind him.

A rustle of leather and exhalation of sharp breaths had every nerve in his body zinging to life. The metallic stench of blood traveled through the air like mist.

He tensed. Rainwater dripped off a nearby gutter. A steady irritation in the chaos of his mind. She felt his unease. It coiled around him, gripped him in a tight fist.

“Cian wha--” Her panic clawed at his flesh. She was remembering last night. Bezel stalking her. Harry slumped over the dumpster.

“Ssh.” He placed a finger against his lips.

The bump of a beating heart echoed like gunfire in his head, a pounding thump against his chest.

Boom boom.

Boom boom
.

The caustic odor of hot blood wafted under his nose. He pulled his upper lip back in a reflexive motion, filling his lungs with more of the scent.

Heart was slowing down. The beats less pronounced, growing weak and fragile. Life being expunged.

“Feeding vampire,” he whispered. The sounds were coming from a few yards away. He narrowed his eyes, searching the dank surroundings. “We’re going back. I’m not walking you into danger.”

They needed to leave. Now. Before she witnessed the truth of what he really was. He grabbed her elbow, but it was already too late.

Sparks of fire raced down his right arm and into his hand. He hissed and dropped her arm. Shoving his hand into his coat pocket. Electrical vibrations pulsed through his skin. He curled his fist and within seconds felt nothing but bone touching bone. With a thought, he used his essence to create gloves and covered his hand in them. Never again would he come around Eve without protection. Because though it appeared he wore a glove, he didn’t actually have one on. One touch of his hand against her pale flesh and she’d be comatose.

“Hell,” he barked. Sweat stained his brows.

“Cian? What’s wrong?”

“Vamp sucked the mortal clean.”

A flash of black flitted past the corner of his vision.

“Bastard,” he snapped, drawing the vamp out from the shadows. “You killed it.”

The lithe figure of a vampire stepped away from the wall and into a shaft of moonlight. It was female. Purple hair, the color of royalty, curled down around slim shoulders. Eyes so blue they looked black stared back at him without remorse. A scarlet trail stained the corner of her mouth to her chin. She rubbed the back of her hand against her lips.

Eve sucked in a breath. Recognition. Disgust.

He pushed her emotions away.

“Who the hell cares? Homeless trash.” She sneered, exposing two long and pointed canines. “Nobody’ll miss him. I did the world a favor by getting rid of that thieving beggar.”

How could the others forget so soon? How could they afford to be so careless where mortal life was concerned? A twisting, churning anger consumed him.

“Have you forgotten the Great War? The fragile peace between our kind and theirs? Are you ready for the consequences of what you’ve done?”

Eve rubbed a hand down the small of his back. He leaned into the soothing comfort of her touch.

“Consequences,” she scoffed, and between one blink and another, stood toe to toe with him. Power flowed from her body. A dangerous energy radiated in the space between them.

His gaze never wavered from hers.  

“This is a new day, ancient. This is my land. We rule the streets and set the laws. Not humans.”

He shook his head. “That type of ignorant thinking will be the downfall of us all. Predators are solitary creatures. Humans have always, and will always, band together. That is why they are dangerous, that is why you cannot,” he stressed through clenched teeth, “afford to disregard them. Be wary, vamp. This world is not as safe as you’d believe.”

The vampire flicked her cold gaze to Eve. Blood red lips tipped at the corners in a sickle shaped smile. She reached out a hand toward his witch. “We meet again, dark one.”

Anger rammed through his skull, choking him. Eve was projecting. Like concertina wire wrapping its thorny barbs around his heart. His gaze flicked toward the vamp. Her eyes were wide, nostrils flaring. Surely tasting Eve’s wrath.

“Don’t you dare touch me, Indigo. Too high on blood to remember the truce? Is that it? You know the rules of this land. The laws the government set. We are never to harm our human hosts. If you don’t give a damn about the Great War then maybe you’d better start thinking about where you’re gonna live next year if the government decides we’re a failed experiment.”

A hateful glare burned in Indigo’s dark blue eyes. “You think we’ve forgotten what your kind did to us? The lives your people stole and tried to subvert to your own will. Someday, Eve, you’ll be under my thumb!”

Eve snarled and took a step forward. The amulet around her neck began to glow purest red. “If you knew your history, then you’d know those were our ancestors. Not us.” She pounded a finger against her own chest in emphasis. “The witches have done nothing but try and make peace. And I’m getting damn tired of being grouped within that circle of murderers and deceivers. That was them. Not me.”

Indigo smirked. Shimmering violet of her hair swinging back and forth with her shaking head. “Their blood runs through your veins. If I had my way, I’d kill you all.”

His every muscle locked down, his body coiled and ready to spring into action should Eve need him. It took everything he had not to reach out and rip the vampire’s head off her shoulders.

Eve straightened her back and held her arm out straight, fingers pointed at Indigo’s chest. “Try it.”

The world around them narrowed down to a pinprick of absolute silence. Air shimmered and vibrated with a killing strain. One second passed.

Two.

Three.

Five.

With a hiss, Indigo transformed into a tower of black mist, disappearing from sight.

His nostrils flared. Adrenaline still pumped through his veins as he looked at Eve. Pride burned a hole through his chest, settling deep into his heart.

Eve dropped her hand. Her body hummed. He walked up to her, grasping her shoulders and giving them a gentle squeeze. She swayed slightly toward him and he closed his eyes in relief.

If he hadn’t been here, Eve would have bumped into the feeding vampire alone. She’d seemed more than capable of taking care of herself. This time. Still, look how wrong it went with the demon. She was strong. But not strong enough to handle every element of the supernatural.

How was he supposed to keep her safe? This world was in anarchy. Creatures of the night vying for a spot, turf, a place to call their own, while normals dictated all they could and couldn’t have. It was a recipe for disaster. 

“You okay?” he asked.

She stood still, but slowly nodded. Then, as if shaking from a trance, she turned, her small hand bunched into the fabric of his shirt. “Thank you.”

“I did nothing.”

“No, you did. You were there.” Her gaze shifted back and forth over his face. “Your presence made me strong.”

He nodded, wishing he could touch her, but his hand was still bone. He shoved in deep into his pocket, flexing it open and closed, willing his hand to return to normal. “How did you know her?”

“We own the only shop that caters to the comforts of the others.”

“She’s trouble,” he murmured, staring at the vacant spot Indigo had inhabited. “Naïve. And foolish.”

Eve pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and gave an odd jerk of her head. But her emotions spoke louder than words. Indigo was reckless. And she was worried.

“We need to find the body, Eve,” he said, then walked off, tracking the scent of fresh blood. The mist like particles filtered through his nose, each drop a clue leading him to the body.

She followed close on his heels. They hadn’t walked far before they spotted him. Lying deep in shadow and in the middle of a puddle, was the slumped form. A knitted cap, full of holes, sat askew on his head. A vacant, glass-like gaze stared into the nothingness.

He frowned, something wasn’t right about this scene. He walked up to the body and knelt in front of the man, rolling him over and looking for the pulsating blue mist of a soul needing harvesting.

“Is he dead?” Eve asked, a slight tremor to her voice.

He placed his hand on the man’s chest. The body was dead. Brain synapses’ no longer shooting off. Heart not beating. Blood flow non-existent, but the soul refused to leave. It wasn’t this man’s time to go. He’d be taken to a hospital, hooked up to life support machines, and made to live out the rest of his days in a vegetative state.

There was nothing he could do for him. His hand had turned skeletal because the body was dead, but if the soul refused to leave he couldn’t force it.

Shaking his head, he stood. “We have to go.”

“But, that man--” she pointed. “We can’t just leave him here.”

“Eve, neither you nor I can be caught near this body. Cops will come asking questions, they’ll want to tack the blame on us.”

She huffed. “They have to be smarter than that. C’mon, you can’t think they’d pin this on us. We’ll just tell them the truth...”

“And what? Look at me, look at you. We’re different. The human has fang marks in his neck. You honestly think they wouldn’t try to lay the blame on us? Humans are looking for a reason to overthrow the government’s ruling on the supers. Voices are getting loud. They don’t want us here. This would be a good P.R. move for them.”

“Not all humans are like that. Some are fair, good, just.” Her lips thinned, she was thinking about her husband and he sighed.

“Eve, that is the minority. Supers have become a spectacle, something different and hot right now. But when we become old news, that’s when it becomes dangerous. That’s when the humans no longer see us as oddities, or quirks, but something evil and deadly that needs eradicating. What that vampire did tonight, that’s just going to add fuel to the fire.”

“You don’t know this.”

The scent of unwashed humans permeated the breeze. Tramps were coming out of the woodworks, looking for clothes, food, shelter. Soon they’d stumble across him and Eve. Last thing he wanted to do was add to the casualty of tonight by defending Eve against the riot of humans finding a fallen brethren. 

 “Yes, I do. Life is an ever-revolving thing. That’s why empires come and go, because people refuse to learn from past mistakes. This is how the Great War started and unless humans and supers wake up, this is how another Great War will begin. Now come.” He grabbed her by the arm with his good hand and led them quickly away from the scene.

She was angry. If felt like boiling oil poured over his flesh. He winced, hating to be the cause of her anger, but years of dealing with mortals, seeing history unfold before his eyes. He knew. Things never really changed. War was inevitable. Not today, maybe not even fifty years from now, but soon.

After five minutes of silence, she sighed and glanced at him. Her churning anger slid away, replaced by a fluttering shame. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He grabbed her hand. “Don’t be. You only wanted to help. Who could blame you for that?”

“Life in the big city, gotta love it.”

“Yeah,” he said in monotone with a small shake of his head.    

“Look,” she stopped and placed her hand against his chest, halting him. “I don’t want that to ruin our night. We’re almost there... and I just want to have a relaxing time. We can’t change what happened. So let’s just move on. Deal?” She held out her hand.

Grudgingly, he nodded and shook it. Her smile grew even wider, encompassing all of her face, crinkling her eyes and wrinkling her nose. The warmth radiating from her to him banished the last of his doubt and anger.

“Good.” She turned and walked on.

Minutes later, dim red lights of a flashing neon sign caught his eye.
Requiem’s tattoo
. He frowned. “This?”

She bit her lip, nodding. “I’m so addicted, it’s not even funny.”

She had tattoos? He couldn’t help but scour her body for clues. He’d never suspected. She looked free of any markings. “Where?”

Her finger traced a winding line down her back and around her ribcage. “It’s not finished yet. Pretty big. It’s my animal familiar.”

He was definitely curious.

“It’s an Ivory-billed Woodpecker. Very, very rare. And beautiful. It’s white and black with this bright red crest on top. I dunno,” she shrugged, her cheeks bright pink with excitement, “that poor bird. It’s almost extinct, but it keeps fighting, trying to hang on. That’s sorta become my mantra these days.” Her lips twisted into a self-conscious smile.

“Why a bird?”

“I’ve always had a bond with them. I love birds. You’re gonna think I’m really weird, but it’s almost as if I understand them.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and laughed. “I’m gonna run you off with all this weird talk. C’mon, let’s go inside.”