Born in Darkness Page 15

  “It’s silly,” I said, tucking the knife back into my coat. “There were some guys on the street last night and I thought about it as I was leaving this morning, and just grabbed the knife.”

  “So you figured that since you’re enough of an idiot to walk home in the dark, you ought to be idiot enough to carry a knife, too? Don’t you know those guys’ll just take it from you? If they’re looking to attack you, one blade isn’t going to do anything, ‘cept maybe help them.”

  “Is that your mom talking?”

  She shook her head. “My uncle Tito. He’s a cop. You know what he’d say to you?”

  “What?”

  “Pepper spray.”

  “Gosh,” I said. “I never even thought of that.”

  She gave me a queer look, but I just smiled. I’d already realized that Alice had the most innocent smile on the planet, and I was putting it to great use. Then I grabbed the handlebars and swung myself up and onto the bike. “So what are you doing here?” I asked.

  But she didn’t answer. Just stood there gaping.

  “Who are you and what have you done with my friend?” she finally asked.

  My entire body turned to ice. Holy shit. I stared, my mouth hanging open like a fish, then finally managed a mousy, “What?”

  “The bike, dude,” she said. “I totally take back what I said about walking home. But come on. Did aliens reroute your personality? I thought you hated those things.”

  “Oh! Right! I do. Or, I did. I got over it.”

  “So were you just pulling Noah’s chain?”

  I flipped back through the information I’d processed over the last two days, finding Noah filed in the ex-boyfriend category. Apparently he’d had a bike. And apparently I hadn’t been happy about that. “I guess I was a little touchy with him,” I said, trying to sound like I was admitting a huge character flaw. “And he was too reckless. I’m safe,” I said, my lack of a helmet underscoring that big fat lie.

  Gracie, however, didn’t notice. “He was, wasn’t he? And that Harley he had was so loud!”

  My ex-boyfriend had a Harley? Alice might just turn out to have been cooler than I thought. At the same time we were now treading in dangerous waters, considering my utter lack of information about Alice’s boyfriend. Time to head home. But when I made noises about leaving, Gracie rushed to protest.

  “I was thinking we could do something,” she confessed.

  “Do what?”

  “Celebrate.” She grinned. “Come on. Leave the bike and ride with me. I’ll tell you about it on the way.”

  I had no idea what it was, and my gut was telling me to go home before I made a major faux pas and gave myself away. My gut, however, was easily ignored. Because the truth was, I liked Gracie. And even though I’d told myself that getting involved with Alice’s friends was setting myself up for trouble, I wanted to go. After all, I saw Gracie every day at the pub. Like it or not, she was in my new life to stay. I might as well enjoy it.

  “Okay,” I said. I slid off the bike, then followed her to the end of the alley where her ancient, decrepit Chevy Nova took up two spots in front of a meter.

  I climbed in, catching a quick glimpse of someone dark lurking in the shadows by the pub. I watched long enough to see that someone climb into a car, and then Gracie turned off the street and my view was lost.

  I pulled down the visor to watch our rear traffic for a tail. At a quarter past eleven, there were only a few cars on the road, and thankfully none stayed with us for more than a block or two. We made good time as she got onto the expressway, and I breathed a little easier, assuming either I’d been paranoid or my shadow had assumed I wouldn’t be hunting any demons with Gracie at my side.

  “So what are we celebrating?” I asked brightly, trying to get into the spirit of the thing.

  “They didn’t offer on the spot,” she said, “but I really think I got the job. Thank you so much for hooking me up with them.”

  “Hey, no problem,” I said, then shifted the subject, because I didn’t want to be caught in the awkward position of having to admit that I didn’t know who them was.

  We ended up talking mostly about the customers and Egan, with Gracie doing most of the talking, and me feigning a headache that Gracie swore would be remedied by food. “I bet you didn’t even eat dinner,” she said, sounding so much like someone’s mom, I couldn’t help but smile. But all in all, the conversation was easy and friendly and I don’t think I even came close to blowing my cover.

  By the time she pulled off the expressway, I realized I had no idea where we were. I was about to ask when she made a U-turn, then slid to a stop in front of the valet stand for a restaurant that announced brightly in green neon that it was Thirsty. Fortuitous, I thought, because I was rather thirsty myself.

  The raucous atmosphere felt familiar, and I followed Gracie to a booth in the far corner, not noticing until we were halfway there that we weren’t following a hostess. “I told Aaron I’d meet him, okay?”

  “Aaron?”

  She stopped and turned to look at me. “I told you about him. The guy I met at the gym.”

  “Right. Sure.”

  “And I mentioned it to Brian, too.”

  I recognized the name from Alice’s answering machine, and kept my feet planted. “Whoa. Hold on. What is this?”

  She managed a guileless shrug. “You two would be great together, Alice. I know it.”

  A setup. This was a double-date setup, and I’d walked straight into it. “I don’t know,” I said, taking a step backward. It was one thing to be Alice at the bar, or even casually around Gracie. But to be Alice with a guy who was crushing on her? That really wasn’t the best of plans.

  Gracie’s eyes turned all puppy-dog on me. “Please? I’ll be totally awkward with Aaron if you’re not around, and it’s really not a date with Brian. He knows you just broke it off with Noah. And you guys are friends already. Come on, Alice. Don’t bail on me.”

  I looked over her shoulder and saw the two guys at the corner booth. They looked nice enough, like the kind of guys you’d meet at school or a Red Sox game or something. The kind of guys who didn’t know the street value of Ecstasy and had no idea how to pick a lock. The kind of guys I had absolutely no experience with.

  They were talking animatedly about something—sports probably—and hadn’t noticed us. While we stood there, though, one glanced over. I saw the recognition in his eyes followed by a smile and a wave. Because we were caught out, I smiled back and dropped my shoulders in surrender. Apparently we were going to go join the guys.

  I told myself it wouldn’t be too bad. After all, if I started feeling like I was totally missing the Alice rhythm, I could always bail.

  Gracie led the way and we did the hug-and-greet routine. She slid in next to the boy-next-door type with short red hair. Aaron, I presumed. Brian, dark-haired with enough smattering of beard stubble to look edgily sexy, scooted over to make room for me. I sat down and managed what I hoped was a casual smile.

  I was saved from jumping straight into conversation by the arrival of our waiter, who looked to be no more than fourteen. I ordered a beer and a basket of fries, then sat back to soak in the atmosphere while the others got in their orders.

  All around us, couples and groups laughed and drank, the mood of the place convivial. People came here to be with friends. To hang with people they liked. To just spend time.

  Had I ever had friends like that? Sure, I had people I’d gone out with. We’d hung out. Drank. Maybe took a hit of something on the not-so-legal side of the line. Definitely maybe went back to someone’s flop to make the most of the high by getting naked. But I couldn’t say they’d been friends. Not really. I’d never once told any of them about Lucas Johnson. Not about what he’d done to Rose. Not about the system setting him free. And not about my plan for revenge.

  But I’d pulled away. I’d closed off, quit returning phone calls. Gotten utterly lost inside myself. And the more I slid into my own little revenge
-filled world, the more my so-called friends drifted away. Not one had asked me what was wrong; not one had come by the house to see how I was doing.

  I looked sideways at Gracie and tried to picture her exhibiting that level of disinterest. I couldn’t, because Gracie was real, not someone casual who did shots in the back room and occasionally hit you up for money. Solid. A friend. And for the first time I was struck by the real difference between me and Alice: Alice might be dead now, but once upon a time she was a hell of a lot more alive than I’d ever been. She was also, I thought, a whole lot more mysterious. A pink and pampered girl who made friends, attracted cute men, and apparently dabbled in the dark arts. And kept some serious secrets.

  I frowned, and if Gracie or the guys noticed my pensive demeanor, none of them showed it. Instead, they were glued to Gracie as she bubbled about how she was certain she would get the job. “And I owe it all to Alice.” She flashed me a smile. “You’re the best.”

  “If you are,” Brian said, “you’ll set me up with a job, too. My boss is driving me crazy.”

  “Sorry,” I said, deadpan. “I can only help those with actual talent.”

  He pressed his hands over his heart. “Zing! And she fells me with the first shot out of the quiver.”

  I grinned and took a sip of my water, thinking that maybe this was going to be easier than I imagined. And, actually, it was. I circumvented Brian’s questions about why I didn’t call him back about the movie, and dodged Aaron’s general queries about my friendship with Gracie by turning the interrogation back on him. I was nursing my beer and trying to look interested while he talked about inventory at the auto parts store where he worked when I saw a flash of someone familiar near the entrance of the restaurant.

  “Alice?”

  “Nothing,” I said, but not fast enough. Gracie turned in the direction I was looking. And when I heard her intake of breath, I knew she’d seen Deacon, too.

  “Do not go over there,” she said as I scooted toward the edge of my seat.

  “I have to.” I thought of how I’d seen him in the pub, and how he’d disappeared. And now here he was again. Watching me. Following me. And I intended to put a stop to that.

  I stood up and smiled at the guys. “I just have to go clear something up with someone I know,” I said, then turned away before they could ask questions or protest.

  By the time I got to the front of the restaurant Deacon was gone again.

  “No, no, no,” I muttered. “Not happening.” I checked the bar area and didn’t see him there, either. At least not until I noticed the double doors that led to an outdoor seating area. I headed that direction and pushed through the doors, then found myself standing amid candle-topped tables. Despite the October chill, the air was warm, courtesy of carefully placed propane heaters.

  I glanced around and found Deacon standing at the outdoor bar, a bottle of beer in his hand. He watched, expressionless, as I approached.

  “You keep disappearing on me,” I said, my tone accusing.

  “And yet here I am. Perhaps your perception of reality is faulty.”

  “Why are you following me?” I demanded. Behind the bar, the waiter cocked his head, then glanced at Deacon, eyes going narrow.

  “This guy giving you trouble?”

  “I can take care of myself,” I said with a hard look at the bartender that had him backing off. Probably not the most polite way to handle the situation, but I could feel the slow boil inside me. A warm and soupy swamp of emotion just itching for a fight.

  “You felled him with a mere glance,” Deacon said, his eyes on my face. “You’ve been practicing your power stare in the mirror, haven’t you?”

  “I’ve been practicing a lot more than that,” I said. “And answer my question. Why are you following me?”

  “I’m pretty sure I’ve already answered that, or did you forget the promise I made?”

  I hadn’t. How could I? For that matter, how could I forget anything about this man? Every touch, every scent, every slight change in his expression was burned into my memory. And along with all of that, his promise to find out what had happened to me.

  That wasn’t a promise I could let him keep.

  “It’s dangerous for a man to have obsessions,” I said. “Maybe this is one you should give up.”

  “I don’t think so,” he said. He took a step toward me. I held my ground, determined not to let him rattle me. “Not all obsessions are bad,” he said. “Sometimes, they can be fascinating.” He reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingertips grazing my cheek as he did so. The touch, so simple, so casual, and yet it set off a chain reaction inside me that had my entire body warm and primed and ready.

  “But sometimes,” he added, “they can be dangerous.” Before I could think, much less react, his mouth closed over mine. I heard myself gasp, and then felt my thighs warm and my nipples peak as I stayed with him, letting myself fall down, down, down into the kiss with him. A heated kiss, so hot he might have been pulling me down to hell with him. And so decadent and deep that right at that moment I would have willingly gone there with him.

  The thought brought me back to myself, and I remembered who and what I was. Not to mention who he was. Or, rather, what he was.

  My hand went automatically to my thigh, but the knife wasn’t in its sheath. I’d been in waitress mode last, and I’d shoved my blade inside a pocket when Gracie had come along.

  “You wouldn’t kill me,” he said. “Not here. Not now.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Two reasons,” he said, leaning casually against the bar. “First, you don’t stand a chance against me, Alice. Trust me on that.” I remembered what Clarence had said, and decided not to argue. There was a time for false bravado, and this was not it.

  “And second?” I asked.

  “Because you liked the way I kissed you,” he said. His words flowed over me like warm whiskey, making me lightheaded. “You liked it, and you want more.”

  I managed a small shake of my head. “You’re wrong.”

  His smile was slow and full of promise, and he stared at me for a moment, then another, until I began to get antsy under his gaze. His eyes dipped down. My breasts, my crotch. Then lifted back to meet my eyes. “No,” he said. “I’m not.”

  And then he slapped a twenty-dollar bill onto the bar and edged past me, quickly closing the distance between us and the door. He pulled it open and disappeared. And all that time I tried to find a snappy comeback, but never quite managed. Quite possibly because everything he’d said was true. A fact that left me itchy and needy and more than a little confused.

  There was no doubt he’d won that round. Demon hunter reduced to sensual mush is not the way to fight the forces of evil.

  Deacon pushed my buttons, and I needed to learn to steady myself around him. I had a job to do, after all. And to do it, I needed a clear head.

  Because splashing water on my face might help, I headed back inside. Despite telling myself I didn’t care where Deacon was, I skimmed the room looking for him, a knot of disappointment settling in my stomach when I didn’t find him. Good. Because I was going to calm down and go hang with my friends. No Deacon was a good, good thing.

  I intended to swing by the table and tell Gracie I’d only be another minute, but she and Aaron were in deep conversation, and Brian was no longer at the booth. Not being inclined to stifle Gracie’s brewing vibe, I skipped the table and headed straight to the ladies’ room.

  The restrooms were tucked in the back next to a fire exit, and apparently the owners of the restaurant hadn’t planned for the popularity of the place, as the line was eight women deep. Not being desperate, I decided to forgo the wait and step outside. Despite a red sign warning that Alarm Will Sound If Opened, someone had propped open the door, and no alarm was blaring.

  I squeezed through the opening and found myself in an alley. I didn’t know if it was Alice’s vibe or the Hi, I’m an assassin label now plastered to my fo
rehead, but I seemed to be spending a lot of time in alleys lately. Tomorrow, I thought, I’d make it a point to go someplace green.

  I drew in a breath, almost wishing I smoked. At least it would be a way to pass the time while I gave Gracie a few more minutes with her male specimen.

  Behind me, I heard the door slam shut. I turned, hoping it hadn’t locked, as I really didn’t want to circle the block. Inconvenience, however, was the least of my worries. Not that I realized that immediately. Instead, I stood stupidly, my supposedly hyperalert senses utterly failing to warn me about the wiry creature that launched itself at me from behind one of the trash cans.

  It was small and round and apparently springy; its head landed in my gut, knocking me down and forcing me to exhale with a whoof.

  “And now,” it croaked, “I think it’s time for you to die.”

  23

  From my prone position, I scrambled to get my knife from the interior pocket of my coat—only to have the beast knock it out of my hand. I twisted to the side, watching it slide under a nearby pile of delivery crates, my fingers stretched out to retrieve it.

  That was the wrong move. While I was reaching, the little beast leaned over and bit me, sinking its teeth deep into my wrist. I howled, jerking my arm up and slamming it down so hard that it crunched against the pavement with a bone-sickening splat. The teeth stayed in my arm, with the demon body firmly attached as well.

  While the demon gnawed and chewed and growled and shook on my arm like a dog with a bone, I slammed my arm over and over on the pavement, trying to smash its ugly little head in. Demon heads are remarkably resilient, however, and I wasn’t having much luck. Not having any other weapon, I smashed my arm—and its body—against the wall, then thrust my leg out, my heel smacking against the beast’s neck.