Nightfall: Blood Magic Book 1 Read online

  Nightfall

  Blood Magic Book One

  By L.H. Cosway

  Copyright © 2021 L.H. Cosway.

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover design by L.H. Cosway. Cover image from Shutterstock.com.

  www.lhcoswayauthor.com

  PLAYLIST

  To listen to L.H. Cosway’s playlist for Nightfall, go HERE.

  Contents

  1.

  2.

  3.

  4.

  5.

  6.

  7.

  8.

  9.

  10.

  11.

  12.

  13.

  14.

  15.

  16.

  17.

  18.

  19.

  20.

  21.

  22.

  Meet the Author

  Books by L.H. Cosway

  Because I could not stop for Death –

  He kindly stopped for me –

  The Carriage held but just Ourselves –

  And Immortality.

  Emily Dickinson.

  1.

  “I’m the one who eats actual food here, so I know what I’m talking about.”

  “Well, I might not eat, but I know for a fact that you don’t put chorizo in paella. I was once invited to dinner at Salvador Dalí’s house in Figueres. Paella was served, and I remember a distinct lack of the spiced sausage.”

  I might not eat?

  Salvador Dali?

  Who the hell were these oddballs?

  I was at work, mindlessly sticking price tags on tins of baked beans, when I overheard the oddest conversation. It wasn’t way out of the ordinary for me to see or hear weird crap when working the night shift at Hagan’s 24-hour grocery. I was kind of desensitised after witnessing one woman crack open a box of tampons before pulling down her pants in the middle of the aisle and, well, you know the rest.

  People could be really disgusting sometimes.

  I leaned closer to the shelves and strained my ears to listen.

  “Hey, if she wants to put chorizo in the dish, then let her,” another voice said. This one male. “What difference does it make? I’d like to get out of here sometime in the next century.”

  “Ugh, fine,” the woman groaned. “I’ll pass on the chorizo. I can’t believe I gave Ethan the opportunity to name drop. I’ll never learn.”

  “When you’ve been alive as long as I have, you meet a few historical figures along the way,” the first man, Ethan, said casually.

  I furrowed my brow. These three were definitely on drugs. The Yellowbranch Forest, just outside the city limits, was famous for its psilocybin. I shook my head, chuckling to myself, as I refocused on pricing tins. Head down, I continued to listen to their bizarre conversation when I heard them come my way.

  “Did you ever cross paths with Da Vinci?” the second man asked. “I heard he was partial to handsome young gentlemen like you.”

  “He was sadly before my time, but unlike some, dear Lucas, I’ve never felt myself swayed by the same sex.” A pause. “Actually, I tell a lie. I did once consider letting Bosie go down on me. He was terribly pretty and very persuasive.”

  I arched an eyebrow. Maybe they were role-playing, or practicing lines for a TV show. Chancing a quick peek, I spotted a red-haired woman, a tall, blond man, and a dark-haired guy idling by the jarred sauces. Hmm, they were definitely attractive enough to be actors.

  “I’m sure you only considered it,” the dark-haired man scoffed. “I’ve never known you to turn down oral pleasure.”

  “I do have some restraint,” the blond man shot back before going markedly silent. His nostrils flared like he was sampling the air. It reminded me of my dad’s Pitbull, Bruiser, and how he used to stand by the back door, sniffing the air before he decided to go outside.

  A moment later the blond man’s eyes met mine, and I gasped, dropping the tin of beans I’d been holding. Were his eyes gold? Acting on instinct, I bent to pick up the tin but found he’d gotten there before me. He was fast. He lifted the tin and handed it to me. “Here you go.” His eyes drifted down to the name tag on my uniform. “Tegan.”

  “Thanks,” I whispered, blinking rapidly. Up close he was even more attractive. I’d go as far as to say he was beautiful.

  “She smells unusual, doesn’t she?” the red-haired woman commented, tilting her head as she took me in.

  “Yes, rather unusual indeed,” the blond man agreed. I noticed a slightly Eastern European lilt in his accent.

  His curious eyes wandered over me, and for a second, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The tiny hairs on my arms stood on end and some weird part of my brain yelled that I should get away from him fast.

  Then, the glass sliding doors at the entrance of the store opened and a voice shouted, “I have a weapon. Come out here and open the till NOW!”

  The blond man raised an eyebrow, muttering blandly, “That is quite the threat.”

  “Quite,” I agreed as my stomach turned over in fear. It was just my luck that someone decided to rob the place when I was the only one on shift. Again. This was why I hated working at night. The dark brought out all the crazies. I’d also left my phone in my locker at the back of the store.

  “Excuse me,” I said to Mr Blond and Beautiful as I stood and went to confront the piece of shit who just threatened me. The first time this happened, I froze and the thief got away with all the money from the register, as well as what was in the safe. Mr Hagen said he’d fire me if I let the store get robbed again, and I couldn’t afford to lose this job right now.

  A greasy looking guy in a sweat-stained T-shirt and torn jeans stood by the counter, knife in hand. He wore a balaclava, but I was fairly certain I recognised him as the same scumbag who’d robbed us the last time.

  “You again. I see the Tribane Police Department is doing a stellar job keeping the city safe.”

  “Shut up and open the till, bitch,” he hissed, thrusting the knife towards me in an unwieldy manner. I quickly sidestepped out of the way.

  “As you can see, I’m on my way to open it now,” I said, keeping my voice neutral as I passed by him and went behind the counter. The thief shoved a plastic bag at me. “Put it all in there.”

  Over his shoulder, I saw the blond man appear. He placed his finger to his lips, and I furrowed my brow. I thought he might’ve done me a solid by calling the police. Instead it looked like he was going to try and take this guy on directly. Well, better him than me.

  I tried to act normal as I opened the till and shoved cash inside the bag. “I didn’t realise thieves were so environmentally friendly these days.”

  “What are you talking about?” the robber asked impatiently.

  “You brought your own reusable bag,” I said. “Very forward-thinking. It’s nice to know there are people out there making an effort to tackle global warming.”

  Behind him, Blondie smirked in amusement.

  “Just put the money in the bag and shut your mouth,” he snapped.

  “Sure thing,” I said with false politeness. As I spoke, Blondie reached out and swiped the knife from the thief’s grip. He moved fast, just like he did when he picked up the tin of beans. Maybe I was extra-tired, but his speed didn’t seem natural …

  “Hey!” the thief exclaimed, grasping for his knife. Blondie was tall enough that he could easily hold it out of reach. Looking the thief dead in the eye, he sa
id, “You’re going to leave now and never come back.”

  The thief stilled, a strange look coming over him almost like he was in a trance. Then to my shock, he quietly turned and left the store.

  Confused, I placed my hands on my hips and looked back at Blondie. “Eh, what the hell? How did you do that?”

  Taking his time, Blondie pocketed the knife before turning his attention to me. I was vaguely aware of the red-haired woman and the other man standing a few feet behind him. Blondie pulled a fifty from his wallet and placed it on the counter. “For the food.” I glanced at the woman, who was holding a basket full of items. “I’m sorry to have to do this, Tegan, especially since you smell so very interesting, but I must insist you forget this ever happened.”

  I stared at him blankly, intending to sound sarcastic, but my suppressed nerves from the attempted robbery made the word come out stilted. “Ooo—kay.”

  “Until next we meet.”

  With that, he left, the other two following behind him.

  “Just take the basket with you then,” I muttered, shaking my head. Bunch of weirdos. I glanced down at the bag of cash and swore loudly. I was going to have to reorganise it and put it all back in the register.

  “Fantastic. Just bloody fantastic.”

  2.

  It was just past 6 am when I arrived back at my dingy little sixth-floor apartment. Exhausted and weary, I was ready for a shower and a long nap, but my plans were derailed when I found Florence, my seventeen-year-old neighbour, sitting outside my door.

  Florence’s dad, Terry, was a violent alcoholic and an absolute waste of oxygen. I often let her hang out in my apartment when she needed space from him. I’d even given him a piece of my mind once or twice, but he still refused to change his ways.

  “Hey,” I said softly. “Are you okay?”

  Florence glanced up. “Can I sleep on your couch for a few hours? D-d-dad’s been a nightmare. He brought a lady friend home last night, and they’ve been drinking, smoking, and playing loud music in the living room ever since.”

  I gritted my teeth at what she said, then pulled my keys from my pocket and nodded. “Sure, come on in.”

  “Thank y-y-you,” she replied quietly. Florence had a stammer. I’d noticed it the first time we met, but I never mentioned it, which I think she appreciated. I wasn’t generally in the business of befriending teenagers, but there was just something about Florence that called to me. We were kindred spirits and had a lot in common since we’d both been raised by single dads, though mine was far nicer than hers. Growing up, my dad worked a lot, leaving me the epitome of a latchkey kid. He wasn’t around much, but he tried his best.

  “Do you want some tea?” I asked as she settled on the couch, her long brown hair tied back in a dirty ponytail. It looked like it’d been a while since she’d last showered.

  “Yes, please.”

  I hung my bag up on a hook in the entryway then went to turn on the kettle.

  “You can use my shower after your nap,” I told her casually. “Oh, and there’s some change on the coffee table if you want to go downstairs to the laundry room and wash your clothes.”

  There was no response. I turned and found her staring glassy-eyed into her hands. “Oh, Flo. What’s the matter?”

  She sniffled and blinked away her tears. “You’re always so nice to me. I’m not used to it. And thank you f-f-for offering for me to use your shower. Dad smashed the mirror in our bathroom a few days ago when he was drunk. There are shards of glass everywhere, and he won’t let me clean them up.”

  I stared at her, anger bubbling inside me. “That’s it, I’m going to have a strong word with him.”

  Florence vehemently shook her head. “No! Please don’t. There’s no changing him. Besides, I only have a few more months before I turn eighteen. Then I’ll legally be able to go out and find my own place. I’ve been saving every penny. That’s w-why I haven’t washed my clothes in a while.”

  I blew out a breath, hands on my hips. “Well, like I said, you’re free to take whatever change is on the table.” I tried to keep from sounding angry. God knew she had enough of that to deal with at home. But my heart broke for her. Florence was a kind, bright young kid. She deserved so much better than the shitty hand she’d been dealt.

  I finished making the tea and grabbed two bars of Turkish Delight from the fridge. I placed a cup and a bar down on the table for Florence before taking mine into my bedroom. Chilled Turkish Delight was one of my favourite treats. I knew it wasn’t the healthiest thing to eat right before going to sleep, but after the night I’d had I needed the pick me up.

  After washing and changing into a baggy T-shirt to sleep in, I climbed under the covers, sipping on tea as I replayed the events of the night. I was incredibly lucky the store hadn’t been robbed, otherwise I’d be out of a job. I was also lucky that those three weirdos were there, especially Blondie. If he hadn’t intervened, then that scumbag would’ve gotten away with an entire register’s worth of cash for the second time.

  I thought about his odd golden eyes and wondered where he was from. The faint Eastern European lilt in his accent told me he wasn’t from around here. I wondered how exactly he’d gotten the thief to walk out of the store without a single protest. Then again, he was tall, broad-shouldered, and quite intimidating looking, not to mention he’d gotten hold of the knife. My would-be thief didn’t have a leg to stand on.

  It was after midday when I woke up, feeling groggy. I rarely woke up refreshed anymore, haunted by one too many bad dreams. Florence was no longer in my living room, but she’d tidied up and left a thank you note on the coffee table.

  Thanks for letting me catch some sleep on your couch. You’re my guardian angel. Flo. x.

  My chest tightened at her heartfelt note. I was only twenty-six and she was almost a legal adult, but some days I seriously considered fostering her. Anything to get her away from her psychopath of a father.

  Today was my day off. Normally, I’d take the opportunity to go out with friends and have some fun, but I’d been avoiding socialising the last few months. My boyfriend, Matthew, died earlier this year. The coroner deemed it a suicide, judging from the number of drugs in his system. At first, I’d refused to believe it. I refused to think he’d taken his own life. But now, as time went on, I was coming to accept that Matthew had a sadness in him nobody could fix. I’d loved him more than anything, but my love still wasn’t enough.

  This was why I was avoiding people. I hated how they looked at me, some with pity, others with thinly veiled suspicion. It was like they wondered if I was the reason he killed himself. If I was secretly an awful person who’d driven him to do what he did. It wasn’t true though. I wasn’t awful. But people were always going to think the worst.

  Most of my day was spent watching TV, but later in the evening, I heard a knock on my door. Spying through the peephole, I found my friend, Nicki, all glammed up and clearly ready for a night on the town.

  “I know you’re in there, Tegan. Open up. I’m not leaving until you do.”

  I sighed and pressed my forehead against the door. Nicki was the one friend I hadn’t completely cut out of my life. Mainly because she was stubborn and persistent and wouldn’t allow it.

  Reluctantly, I turned over the lock and opened the door. She gave me a quick once over, shaking her head as she walked inside. “You look like crap.”

  “Wow, thanks.”

  “I’m just being honest.”

  “Yeah, well, sometimes it isn’t the best policy,” I grumped, folding my arms and dropping back down onto the sofa.

  Nicki removed two bottles of white wine from her bag and placed them in the fridge before coming and sitting down next to me. “When was the last time you left this apartment other than to go to work?”

  I shrugged. “Can’t remember.”

  “Yes, you can. It was before Matthew—”

  “Please don’t talk about him,” I begged.

  Her eyes took on a sympathet
ic gleam. “You should come out with me tonight. Let off some steam. One of my co-workers gave me these free passes to that new Goth club, Crimson.” She rifled through her purse and pulled out several tickets, waving them in my face. I eyed them a moment before shaking my head. “I’m really not in the mood.”

  “You will be once you’re out. I heard this place is supposed to be amazing. Go shower and put some make-up on. I brought over that little black dress you love.”

  “The one with the straps on the back?” I asked, perking up a little. I did love that dress.

  Nicki nodded. “I’ll let you keep it if you come to Crimson with me.”

  I chewed my lip, considering it. “Okay, but if it’s terrible you have to promise to leave with me.”

  Nicki smiled wide, knowing she’d gotten her way. “I promise.”

  ***

  Seated at the back of the bus, I shifted uncomfortably on our way to the club. Nicki’s black dress was quite a bit shorter than I remembered, and my high heels pinched my toes since I was used to wearing comfortable flats these days. I’d blow-dried and straightened my long dark hair and put on some smoky eye makeup with nude lips. After a few stops, Nicki’s friends, Dillon, Amanda, and Susan, got on.

  Well, technically they were my friends, too, but I hadn’t seen them in a while. They seemed amazed to see me—like I was a long-lost relative who they’d thought was dead. After a beat of awkwardness, Dillon came forward and wrapped me in a hug. “It’s so great to see you, Tegan,” he gushed while Amanda and Susan hung back, stiff, wary smiles on their faces. They clearly didn’t know how to act around me.

  “Hey, Amanda. Hey, Susan,” I said with a little wave.

  “Hi,” Susan replied. “You look good. We haven’t seen you in forever.”

  “Yeah, we thought you’d moved away or something,” Amanda added.

  “Nope, just living that hermit lifestyle,” I said, and they all laughed politely.

  Oh, man, tonight was going to be fun, and by “fun” I meant nightmarish.