Nightfall: Blood Magic Book 1 Page 9

  There was a brief flash of unhappiness in his eyes at my refusal, but then it was gone. “Very well, I’ll walk you out.”

  He led me from the club, and I exited through the same steel door I’d come in through. “I’ll be seeing you, Tegan,” Ethan called as I walked away.

  Full dark had descended on the city, but I decided not to take the bus. I needed to walk. It always helped me think. As I made my way past busy bars and restaurants, something niggled at me. I was halfway to my apartment when I realised I’d forgotten to tell Ethan about the slayer. A chill skittered across the back of my neck as I glanced behind me, making sure I wasn’t being followed. It was a longer path home than I normally took, and as I turned a corner at the end of the street, the oddest thing occurred.

  I heard the faint tinkling of off-beat piano music playing an unfamiliar and antiquated tune. The sort of music you’d see a flapper dancing the Charleston to in old black and white footage from the 1920s.

  I looked around, realising how completely empty and deserted the street had become. Hadn’t there been people a second ago? All the businesses were shuttered, which didn’t make sense because Tribane wasn’t a city that shut down early. No matter the street, you could always find someplace open.

  A sense of eeriness pervaded, driving me to quicken my step. Something in the back of my mind told me this wasn’t the slayer. My speedy steps transformed into a run, and the music grew louder and louder until finally I turned a corner and it faded out. Life returned to the city. The streets filled with people, the restaurants and bars, too.

  Okay, that was some freaky shit.

  Under any other circumstances I might have immediately brushed off the music and the empty street, but there was something about the encounter that chilled me to my very core. When I reached my building, I was eager to get inside, so eager that I didn’t immediately notice the strange man sitting in my kitchen. I recognised him instantly.

  The slayer.

  Every cell in my body tensed at the sight of him sitting there like he owned the place. He didn’t even look my way as he casually peeled the skin off an apple with a pocketknife; a red apple that he’d obviously appropriated from my fruit bowl.

  His body language was completely laid back. He even had the gall to take his time popping a neatly cut slice of apple into his mouth before deigning to cast his eyes to me.

  “I’m calling the police,” I announced sharply, slipping my hand inside my pocket and retrieving my phone.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” he warned in a thick Irish accent.

  “Just try and stop me.” I proceeded to dial the numbers, but before I got to the last digit something knocked the phone straight out of my hand. It flew to the other side of the room and landed on the floor. The slayer had flung something at me. I looked down to see what he’d thrown and sputtered a laugh. A banana? How on earth do you knock a phone from a person’s hand with a banana?

  I stood there for a second, phone-less, as he ate another slice of apple.

  “Are you going to explain why you’ve broken into my apartment?” I asked. “Or have you just come to steal my fruit?”

  “Good apples.” He wiped the excess juice from his lips onto his sleeve. I couldn’t help but notice he was attractive in a rough and ready sort of way. What was wrong with me? This man was an intruder. I shouldn’t even be thinking about his looks. “And don’t play dumb, Missy. You know why I’m here.”

  “Because of the vampires? Wait, you don’t think I’m one of them, do you?”

  “What do you take me for? Of course I don’t think you’re a vamp. I’m here because you saved my life last night, and I’d like to say thank you.”

  Oh. That was unexpected. “Well,” I sniffed. “In that case you’re welcome. Also, you can go. I don’t take kindly to home invaders, and I still plan on calling the police.”

  “Call away.” He gestured to where my phone lay on the floor. Thankfully, it appeared undamaged.

  I hesitated. “You’re not going to throw another banana at me, are you?”

  He seemed to suppress a smile. “I can’t make any promises.”

  I eyed him now, from the heavy-soled boots he wore to the dark jeans and cargo jacket. He looked like some sort of mercenary. A hitman for hire maybe. So why aren’t you screaming from the top of your lungs? Somehow, I sensed he wasn’t here to hurt me.

  “How do you know I saved your life? Weren’t you unconscious last night?”

  “I was, but I came to in time to hear your little speech to the bloodsucker. I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen a vamp look guilty.”

  “Yeah, well, it would’ve been wrong for Ethan to kill you while you were incapable of defending yourself.” A pause as I worried my lip. “How did you find out where I live?”

  “I followed you two home last night. I kept well behind so the vamp wouldn’t cotton on to being tailed again.”

  Ethan had been right to insist on accompanying me up to my apartment.

  “So,” the slayer went on. “What’s a nice girl like you doing driving around in cars with vampires, eh?”

  “Wrong time, wrong place,” I deadpanned.

  He eyed me studiously now. “Well, shit,” he exclaimed.

  “What?”

  “You haven’t been compelled.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Then why aren’t you running a mile? Most people freak out when they discover the truth, then the vamps use their mind voodoo to put them under a thrall and make them forget why they should be scared. Sneaky bastards.”

  “Sadly, I’m already too entangled to run a mile. Also, the mind voodoo doesn’t work on me.”

  Disbelief coloured his features. “It doesn’t work on you.” Now he laughed. “And how, pray tell, do you manage that?”

  “I’m still trying to figure that one out.”

  His expression sobered, his thick eyebrows drawing together. “You’re human, right?”

  “As far as I know, yes.”

  “Interesting.”

  I blew out a heavy sigh and kicked off my shoes before removing my coat. Might as well get comfortable while entertaining an intruder. “Yes, everyone finds me so terribly interesting these days.”

  “I’ve never known anyone immune to the compulsion of a vampire. It takes years of training to withstand them even a little bit,” he said, a hint of awe in his voice.

  “I’ve had no training. Two weeks ago, I didn’t even know vampires existed.”

  Now he frowned. “How did you come into contact with them?”

  I was about to relay the details of the night Ethan and I met but reconsidered. I still had no clue if I could trust this guy. I didn’t even know his name and breaking into my apartment didn’t make the best first impression.

  “I think I’ve told you enough for one night. Also, shouldn’t you be on the other side of the river right now? I thought crossing it was considered an act of aggression.”

  He seemed impressed that I knew about the Hawthorn, a hint of a grin shaping his lips. “What can I say, I’m an aggressive son of a bitch.”

  “Aren’t you scared you’ll come across vampires? They’re so much stronger than humans.”

  “I’m good at sticking to the shadows.”

  “I’m sorry about your, um, fellow slayers. Ethan didn’t need to kill them.”

  A dark look crossed his features. “Yes, he did. If he hadn’t, we wouldn’t have stopped until we killed him. But not to worry, I’ll take him down eventually.”

  Something tugged at my chest. I didn’t like the idea of this guy setting his sights on Ethan. I might’ve still had my reservations about him, but I didn’t want him to be killed.

  “I think it’s time you left.”

  He shot me a challenging look. “I’ll leave when I’m ready.”

  I placed my hands on my hips, staring him down. He chuckled. “That’s some glower you’ve got on you, Missy.”

  “I’ve got some right hook on
me, too,” I threatened, even though I had no clue how to throw a punch. This guy didn’t know that though.

  “The vamps are only interested in you because you pose a threat. If their compulsion doesn’t work on you, they’ll want to ensure it isn’t something that can be replicated. The fact that they can erase people’s memories is the whole reason they can remain hidden.”

  “I don’t think it can be replicated,” I said, not telling him about the spell.

  “How do you know? You could be the answer to the imbalance of power between vampires and humans. No longer would they be able to control us with no more than a glance of their eyes.”

  Suddenly, I wondered if I’d made a terrible mistake by talking to him. He was looking at me like I was the answer to all his problems, and I was pretty sure I wasn’t.

  I folded my arms. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. Now you really need to leave.”

  He narrowed his eyes, his expression flat. “I see you’ve already been swayed by the vamps. You know very little of the species you’re aligning yourself with.”

  “I’m not aligning myself with anyone. Whatever friction there is between vampires and slayers is none of my concern. But if I were to pick a side, I’m not sure it would be with a group of people who set out to destroy an entire species, even if they are predators. Would you shoot a lion just because its nature is to kill? It’s the way of the world for one species to prey upon another. You’re extremely gullible if you think that a group of slayers with a mission is going to change any of that.”

  “No,” he said, his voice cold. “I wouldn’t shoot a lion under normal circumstances. But if that lion were to murder my entire family, then I wouldn’t bat an eyelid before ending its life.”

  His words sank in, and my stomach twisted. “Did a vampire kill your family?”

  He didn’t answer, remaining quiet for a long moment. Then he pulled a small business card from his pocket, setting it down on the table before he rose. “I’ll see myself out. My number’s on the card if you ever need help. You might be silly enough to trust a vampire now, but you’ll soon learn his true nature.”

  With those parting words, he left. I walked over to the table and picked up the card to read it.

  Lt. Finn Roe. DOH. 980561230

  11.

  As soon as Finn Roe left, I turned over all the locks and sank onto the floor, my legs curling beneath me. I held my head in my hands and rubbed my temples. What had I gotten myself into?

  This crap was becoming way too complicated.

  I wasn’t sure how long I sat there before I finally dragged myself into my bedroom. I opened a drawer and removed the old shoebox where I’d placed the few things I had left that belonged to Matthew. There wasn’t much, just a guitar pick, a notebook of song lyrics, the silver chain he always wore, and a half-used bottle of his favourite cologne. I smoothed the pick between my fingers, then took a quick sniff of the cologne.

  Ah, memories. They cut deep even while they soothed.

  My hand brushed over the notebook. I’d only ever managed to read the first few pages. Reading it made me feel guilty—like I was intruding on his most personal thoughts and feelings. But tonight, I needed a distraction, something to take my mind off everything and bring me back to a time when my life was normal, or what most people deemed normal.

  I flicked through several pages before my eyes latched on a title. I wasn’t sure why it drew my attention, but I felt a pull. It was titled “Nightfall”. Most of Matthew’s lyrics portrayed his feelings of loneliness and depression, his frustrations with life. But this one was different. There was an eery quality to it that made the small hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

  No one knows it but I do.

  No one sees it but me and you,

  And I don’t know if anyone would believe it.

  But when the day turns to night,

  And all I see is a speck of light,

  Nightfall comes to drain my soul away.

  The lyrics stole my breath. It was almost like Matthew was speaking to me from beyond the grave. My heart hurt as I wondered what he felt when he wrote this. What had been happening in his life? Were we together at the time, or was it written before we met? The part about when the day turned to night really struck a chord in me. My life had been turned upside by Ethan, a person who I only ever saw at night.

  I touched my finger to the page, letting it drift over the indentations made from his pen. Then a sharp pang of grief hit me, and I closed over the notebook. I couldn’t read any more. It brought up too many feelings, too many questions that I’d never get the answers to.

  Carefully, I placed the shoebox back in the drawer and went to get ready for bed.

  The next night I was back to my regular shift at Hagen’s, which was blessedly uneventful.

  When my day shift at Indigo came around, I was a little hesitant. Now that I knew the truth about Marcel and Gabriel, things were going to be different. For one, I’d started to believe the spell was real, and for two, I needed them to untangle it for me. I didn’t fancy going through life with some invisible magic hanging over my head.

  As I arrived at the store, I bumped into Gabriel.

  “Morning, Tegan,” he greeted.

  If I wasn’t mistaken, he seemed a little wary of me. It was a wariness he hadn’t shown before, and it had to be down to my friendship with Ethan. I still wondered what happened to make them dislike one another so much.

  “Marcel and I will be out all morning,” Gabriel went on. “Will you be okay taking care of things on your own?”

  “Sure,” I answered. “No problem.”

  When he left, I settled in and spent some time fixing the bookshelves before I heard the chimes ring over the door. I turned to check who it was and saw Rita, my possible nemesis, aka, the girl who was after my job. Just like before, her wardrobe choices were … interesting. She wore a sleeveless, knee-length black dress with bare gaps on either side where the front of the garment was secured to the back via long rows of safety pins. Her short hair was messy, her make-up heavy.

  Chewing on a wooden toothpick, she approached, stopping to lean against one of the display shelves. Her black-rimmed eyes looked me up and down, and for a moment, I felt an intense pang in my chest. It was a pleasant pang, almost like a hum, and for some reason it caused most of my wariness about her to fade. I couldn’t explain it, but I suddenly felt a connection to her, a feeling of sameness, which was odd because we were nothing alike.

  “So, are Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee not around today?” she asked.

  I arched an eyebrow. “Marcel and Gabriel? No, they’re out.”

  Now she grinned. “Right, well, I’ll just be in the back.”

  “Wait a second,” I called, chasing after her as she made her way to the back of the store.

  She pretended she didn’t hear me, disappearing into the room containing all the specialty items. When I entered, I found her rifling through a chest of drawers, stuffing various herbs and glass dropper bottles into her bag.

  “You better be planning to pay for those,” I warned sternly.

  She cast me a glance. “Don’t worry about it. Gabriel lets me borrow stuff all the time.” I shot her a disbelieving look, folding my arms. “I’m not lying. Ask Gabriel when he gets back.”

  Walking around her, I peered inside the drawer she had open. “What are you taking?”

  Rita bristled when I got close but continued to speak casually. “A bit of this, a bit of that.”

  “Are you a witch?” I blurted.

  She froze before turning to face me fully. “Who’ve you been talking to?”

  “I just presumed, since Marcel and Gabriel are warlocks, maybe you were a witch.”

  Rita heaved a sigh, and for a second, I saw a flicker of vulnerability in her. “Technically, no, I’m not a witch, since according to the backwards, arcane rules you’ve got to be from one of the twelve families to use magic. But I’ve got the ability, same as my mum doe
s, and we practice, too. No offence to Marcel and Gabriel, but we’re a whole hell of a lot better than they are. We’re just younger, less experienced. And because they happen to have the right last names, they get all the respect. But I’m telling you, if ever a time comes when one of them has to go up against one of us, they won’t know what’s hit them.”

  “Who’s “them” and “us?” I asked, suddenly very curious. Rita was more interesting than I gave her credit for. Plus, the weird draw I suddenly felt to her persisted, sitting right in the centre of my chest.

  “They are the Marcel Girards of this world. In other words, born into magic with silver spoons in their mouths. We are those who practice magic, but don’t belong to one of the magical families.”

  “Oh.” I said. “So, who exactly are these families then?”

  “You’re telling me you know Marcel and Gabriel are warlocks, but you don’t know who the families are. How does that work?” She tilted her head questioningly.

  “I’m extremely new to all this.”

  “How new?”

  “Two weeks new.”

  Rita let out a low whistle. “That’s sort of unheard of. Why would Marcel and Gabriel tell you what they are just because you’re working for them? They’ve had employees before who never knew.”

  “They weren’t the ones who told me. It was, um, someone else.”

  “Who?”

  I took a second to consider whether to answer her or not, but since she practiced magic it shouldn’t come as too much of a shock. “A vampire,” I said finally.

  Both her eyebrows shot up. “You know a vampire? No way. Marcel would never give someone even remotely associated with the vamps a job.”

  “Special circumstances, I guess.”

  Rita closed the drawer she’d been looking through. “What kind of special circumstances?”

  I went and sat down on one of the beaded cushions. I wasn’t sure why, maybe it was the pulse in my chest or maybe I just wanted an outsider’s perspective, but for some reason, I told Rita everything. How I met Ethan. How I was drawn to Indigo where I met Marcel and Gabriel, their theories about the spell cast on me. She stood still and listened, and when I was finished, she looked flabbergasted.