Ever Night (7 page)

“You're staying right here.” He lunged.

She waved her fingers, smiled too sweetly and—

Disappeared.

He flew through air, just missing her. “No. Rose!” Righting himself, he swung left and right, searching for her, any sign of her, his heart pounding against his ribs, that heated breath still sawing in and out. There wasn't a single trace of her.

“You little witch!”

She'd gone home. Well,
this
was her home now, and it was time she learned and accepted.

She'll be back,
he told himself. One week, and she would be back. She wouldn't be able to stop herself.

He almost rubbed his hands together as his blood flamed yet another degree. He did laugh. This, he realized, was just foreplay for him. Like the threats and the name-calling were foreplay for her. Every time she left, he only wanted her more.

Oh, how he enjoyed her.

Oh, how he would have her. In every way imaginable.

One week, he thought again. He had some planning to do.

Maybe she'd overreacted, Rose thought the next day as she cocooned herself in the cold sheets of her bed. Alone. Aching. As if the fire Vasili ignited had never been doused. Had she stayed with him, she could have woken up in his arms. They could have made love. Down and dirty, nothing taboo. She was more certain than ever that he wouldn't allow insecurities or hesitation on her part. He would demand everything. And she would give it. Willingly. Eagerly.

But he'd thought about making another woman his “wife” and she'd felt as if he had just punched her in the stomach. Her fury and her jealousy had raged out of control. She couldn't stand the thought of him with someone else, even for appearances. Even to save his people and his land.

Selfish hussy.

She wished she had a girlfriend to talk to about him, but over the years she'd cut everyone from her life. Or they had run from her. She worked, she trained, she thought about Vasili, and that was it. Which was his fault, damn it! After that first visit to his world, she'd begun to pull herself out of this one. She knew that now. As if she'd known she no longer belonged here. As if she belonged with him.

I want to be with him. Forever.
She should have shied away from the thought, but couldn't. It felt too . . . right. Too perfect. To be pleasured every day the way he'd pleasured her yesterday . . . yes, yes, a thousand times yes. But . . . did he want forever from her? They'd never been together more than a day at a time. Maybe they'd hate each other after a week. Maybe they weren't compatible. Except in bed. There they'd be magical. No question.

But the get-along thing she couldn't work out in her mind. Would they or wouldn't they?

There was only one way to find out. . . .

Return and stay, without letting him drive her away. No matter how much he annoyed her. She nodded, instinctively liking the thought. Yes, she would return and stay for a week.

But first, she wanted to find out some stuff for him. He'd asked her numerous times for names of other Walkers and the dates they visited. She would find out, but she wouldn't give him the info until she knew why he wanted it.

Moaning, she lumbered from the bed, showered quickly, and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Then she made a call.

***

“I was surprised when you contacted me.”

Rose peered over at Nick. Her kind-of ex. They were inside a coffee shop, a round iron table between them, people coming in and out, and bright, hot air blustering through the door. Too bright, too hot. She suddenly missed the dark and cold of Vasili's world.

What did he call his land, anyway? “Nightmare” just didn't fit anymore.

“Sorry,” she said, fingers tightening around her mocha latte. “About ignoring you.” For more than a year. “That was rude, and immature, and I feel terrible.”

“I would have appreciated a reason,” he said. His hair was a darker shade of blond now, and his face a little lined. From stress? His cheeks were gaunt, as if he weren't eating properly, and his clothing was wrinkled, as if he no longer cared about his appearance. Still, he was a handsome man, and more muscular than most humans.

“I . . . kind of have a boyfriend. We're on again, off again.” Truth. Vasili claimed they were married.

And part of her believed him. Because part of her
wanted
them to be married. Even though they saw each other only once a year.
That's about to change. Soon you'll have your week.

And then . . . more?

Hopefully. He'd put his hands on her, kissed her, tasted her, and oh, she needed more. With every minute that passed away from him, being with him stopped being a want and became a need. Like breathing. She had to have him. More of his touches, all of his kisses.

“I see,” Nick said, drawing her from her daydreams.

“I really am sorry,” she repeated. “I liked you, I did, but . . .”

“You liked him more.” A defeated sigh. “Does he know?”

About Nightmare, Nick meant. “Yes. He knows.”
Be cause he lives there.

“Is he a . . .
you know,
too?”

She shook her head.

Nick's dark eyes widened with shock. “And he accepts you?”

“Yes.”

He frowned, but that frown soon became tinted with sadness. “You're very lucky.”

Lady troubles? Had someone rejected him because of what he could do? Probably. Rose could relate. She hadn't lied to Vasili. Her parents barely spoke to her anymore, and each encounter stung worse than the last.

After they'd institutionalized her, she'd never again spoken to them about Vasili or his world, but that hadn't mattered. The damage had already been done. They'd known her before, seen the changes in her, and hadn't liked who she'd become. No longer their sweet little princess, but someone a little dark, a lot stubborn. Beyond harsh.

Finding a way to escort them into Nightmare had been a last-ditch effort to salvage their relationship. To make them believe. But she was almost relieved that she couldn't take them. Vasili was her safe haven, her fantasy in the flesh. She didn't want to share him. With anyone.

“So why'd you call, Rose?”

Nick's question once again dragged her back into the present. God, she was easily distracted today.

“I have questions. About”—she looked around, made sure no one was paying them any attention, and whispered—“Nightmare.”

He, too, looked around. A habit every Dimension Walker probably possessed. “Okay. Ask.”

“Why us? Why can we do this and no one else? I mean, none of us are related that I'm aware of, so it isn't genetic.”

A shrug. “You've read the theories online, I'm sure.”

She nodded. “One is that we're supposed to study them, learn from them. Another is that we're ambassadors, meant to pave the way for when the two worlds collide.” But no one could prove the two would ever collide. “Another is that we're supposed to kill them. What do
you
think?”

He shrugged again. “I believe that last one. That we're like vampire hunters, special, meant to destroy evil.”

Destroy evil.
The words echoed through her skull. She sipped at her mocha, though it had chilled and settled in her stomach like lead. After that first visit, she would have agreed with him. Now? Not even a little. Vasili was important to her, and the thought of him being hunted, hurt, caused rage to burn through her. A lot more Walkers probably thought like Nick.

She released her latte before she crumpled the cup. “Have they ever hurt you?”

His chest puffed up with pride, and for a moment, she saw the man she'd dated: strong, healthy, determined. “I haven't given them the chance.”

“And yet you still think you're supposed to kill them? What if they're chasing you to talk with you? To learn from you?” She remembered the people at the party last night. How they'd laughed and danced. How harmless they'd seemed. Even the monsters.

Nick gaped at her. “You've seen those red eyes, right?”

“Yes. So?”

“So, you know those creatures don't want to talk to us.”

But they hadn't hurt her. That first night, they'd taken her to Vasili. “Can
they
travel here?” She would love for Vasili to show up unannounced and uninvited—at least she would pretend he was uninvited—and sweep her off her feet—only to throw her on her own bed.

Wait. He'd said only Walkers could travel between the worlds. But maybe there were Walkers in his world, too.

“No.” Nick shook his head. “Many have tried to bring one over, you know, to prove there's another side, but the bodies disintegrate every time. Dead or alive, no one from here or there can be taken from one world and placed in another unless they're a Walker.”

Wow.
She felt no pain when she traveled. Just blinked, and boom, she was in another time and place. Yet others burned to death?
Just . . . wow.
“Can any of us go there on our own? You know, without it being our birthday?” She could, but what about the others?

“No, and thank God for that.” Again, he frowned. “Why ask? Tell me you don't want to spend
more
time there.”

“Of course I don't,” she rushed out. A lie, and one she didn't feel guilty for telling. She didn't need him trying to talk her out of returning. Or rallying others of their kind to do so—forcefully. But why could she travel at will and no one else? Because she was “bonded” to Vasili?

“So why all the questions, Rose?” Nick asked.

“My birthday's approaching, and I'm just trying to figure things out, that's all.”
Good, that's good. Keep it casual.
“So . . . when do you go back?”

“Next month.” Bitterness laced his tone. “August eighth.”

She made a mental note.

“I've always dreaded going back, but now . . .” He shuddered, the action making several strands of hair dance over his forehead. “In the last year, several Walkers have failed to return. Did you know that?”

“No. How do you? Hardly anyone shares their name.” Too afraid of being labeled a crazy, as she well knew.

“The day before their birthdays was the last time they posted online.”

Yes. Telling. Or maybe not. “What if they just decided to stay?” Could they stay, though? Maybe she was the only one who could stay for extended periods of time, just like she was the only one who could travel at will.

Nick snorted. “Who would want to live in constant darkness?”

If you were in bed with a sexy man who had his hands and mouth all over you, there was a definite appeal to all that darkness. “Have you ever met a man named . . .” She hesitated, as if saying his name were a betrayal to him. But she had to know. “Vasili?”

“Met? No.” A hard glint darkened Nick's eyes. “But heard of, yes.”

“Tell me!” Did she sound too eager? Look too eager? She was leaning forward, hands wringing together.

Clearly. Nick regarded her strangely as he pushed aside his cup and drummed his fingers against the tabletop. “He's the king of the Northern Realm. Have
you
met him?”

“Well, uh, I . . .”

He took her stuttering as a yes. “Can you get close to him? Kill him?”

“No!” And anyone else who tried would feel the sting of her wrath. Sadly, that “anyone” might be Nick. At the moment, he glowed with determination.

But if she had to choose between them, she would choose Vasili. Always.

“Too bad. See, from what I've been able to piece together, I know there are four realms. North, South, East, and West. A different king rules each. The North and East are at war, and the South and West are allies who refuse to take part.”

Vasili, at war. With Greer. But that war had been averted, since Jasha was marrying one of Greer's daughters. She mentioned none of that, though. She wouldn't aid Nick's cause with information.

“If we could kill Vasili,” he continued, “one of those realms would fall and that's one less to worry about.”

Now her eyes narrowed, and she knew the hard glint he'd had earlier was suddenly mirrored in hers. “That would make you a murderer, Nick.”
And me, as well, since my first reaction will be revenge.
“You don't want to go there. Believe me.”

“Well, I'm sick of the birthday curse,” he burst out. “Sick of dreading the darkness and the rain, the monsters and their chase. They always scent me out immediately, and I always spend the entire twelve hours I'm forced to stay there running for my life.”

“I'm sorry.” And she was. But she still would not accept his intentions.

A sandy brow arched. “That hasn't been your experience, has it?”

“No,” she admitted. “They aren't so bad.”

“They're monsters, Rose.”

“Yes, but they've never hurt me.” Sure, Vasili had threatened—she shivered, still uncertain why the thought of Vasili's naughtiness thrilled her so much—but he'd helped her instead.

Nick scrubbed a hand down his face. “Look, there are others like me. Tired and craving an end. We want those things
dead
.”

“What are you planning?” she whispered, gripping the edge of the table.

He shrugged. “We've been talking about it,
trying
to plan. But that's hard to do when no one trusts anyone else, so nothing's been solidified yet. I've got an idea, though. One that might bring us all together.”

Oh . . . shit.
Another reason to visit Vasili. To warn him.

***

The next day, Rose shimmied into a lacy ice-blue dress and matching heels. Vasili had never seen her in anything but pants, and at the ball, as all the women had danced around her in those velvet gowns, she'd felt drab. She'd wanted to show Vasili that she, too, could look pretty.

After doing her makeup and hair, she packed a bag. All her toiletries, lots of lingerie, a few more dresses, and some pants and tees. She'd stay all seven days, no more, no less. No matter how much he pissed her off. Then, if things worked out as she hoped, she'd return here, say good-bye to her parents, find out if Nick and the other Walkers had “solidified” anything yet, gather the rest of her things, and finally shack up with Vasili for good.

If he was on board, of course.

He'd better be on board.
Rose strapped her blades onto her wrists and thighs. She recalled the weapons Vasili had worn last night, and shivered.
Sexy.
She'd wanted to eat him up.
Now you can.
She grinned as she checked her .45, threw a couple clips in her bag, and tried to anchor the gun to her waist—oops, no room. The blades took up too much space under her dress.

She slung the bag over her shoulder, keeping the gun in hand, safety on. She wouldn't use it on Vasili, of course. Unless he pissed her off. Better to shoot him than to leave before her time ended. And the monsters she'd seen last time had looked so civilized, she doubted she'd have to use it on them. Besides, they hadn't attacked her, and hadn't acted as if they even
wanted
to attack her. For the most part, they'd kept their eyes averted. They'd even danced with the humans, those claws gentle on their partners and not drawing a single bead of blood.