Nikolai: A Dark Light Novella (Dark Light #2.5) (9 page)

“Tell me, Niko… tell me what happened,” Amelie says just above a whisper.

Tentatively, she reaches her hand towards me, her solemn gaze asking permission. I remain stock-still, holding my breath. Not because I have some weird phobia about touching - shit, physicality is all I know - but because it’s her touching me, her comforting me. Her showing me just a smidgen of affection. And right now, as her delicate hand rests on top of mine before sliding to my palm to interlace our fingers, I feel like she’s breaking me down, ripping me open. Taking every fucking defense I had and demolishing them with a sledgehammer. I’m the one helpless and weak spread out beneath her. I’m the one begging for her mercy, completely at her will.

Tiny golden sparks meld with blue, before dying into a simmer on our skin. It hurts. It’s sweet agony and torturous bliss. It’s everything I never knew I wanted.

“Amelie,” a voice rasps from somewhere deep within me. “I killed him. I killed that sick sonofabitch. And I liked it. I loved it. And I’m sorry.”

She doesn’t speak. I don’t even know if she’s looking at me. All I can see are our fingers intertwined, that small part of us holding onto…something. Something much bigger than the both of us.

“Thank you,” she finally whispers.

My eyes dart to her face to find a soft smile on her lips, a look of admiration in her eyes. A look I’ve never been gifted with in all my years.

“For what?”

“For telling me. And for saving those girls. And for ensuring that he never hurts another child again.”

“But…but now you know how vile I am. Now you know I’m a killer.”

An unexpected chuckle bubbles from her chest. “Niko, I’ve always known you were a killer. Don’t forget that I’ve borne witness to your antics for the last ten years. I’m not saying I’m ok with murder. I’m totally against it, actually. But what you did today wasn’t murder, it was redemption. It was justice. It was necessary.”

We fall asleep side by side, like always, but with our hands clasped together. Funny how such a chaste gesture can be so profound, so deeply intimate. I’ve never felt closer to another soul, not even when I was buried inside them, breathing their life into mine. And I now that I’ve felt it, I never want to let it go. I never want to let
her
go.

I feel Amelie jerk in the night, and her hand is squeezing mine with enough pressure to cut off circulation. My eyes snap open immediately and I am hovering over her, clutching her shoulders.

“No, no, no,” she cries, large tears spilling down the sides of her face. Her closed eyelids flutter rapidly and she’s covered with sweat. “No, please, no. Please come back to me. Don’t leave me!”

“Amelie,” I call out, shaking her gently. “Amelie, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

“Oh God, no! Please! I’ll do anything…no, no, no!” Her body trembles uncontrollably, piquing my alarm. I have to do something. I have to help her.

“Amelie! Amelie, listen to me. Wake up!” Panic growing in my chest, I sweep a hand over her forehead, a single finger doused in blue flames.

Nothing.

Fuck.

Her body convulses even more, and I know this is more than a simple dream. I shake her harder, both hands now ignited. “Come on, Amelie! Wake up! Fucking wake up now!”

Her body goes still and her whimpers cease. I don’t even think she’s breathing, though I can clearly hear the pounding of her heart. I hold onto that sliver of hope. She’s still with me.

Just as my hand caresses her damp cheek, Amelie’s eyes snap open, her retinas as black as onyx. This isn’t magic. It’s not even natural. It’s evil.

Before I can even think to react, she trains her black, sinister glare on me as she grabs my hand, squeezing it until I can feel my bones crack.

“You will pay, demon. You will pay in blood,” a bone chilling voice spits. It’s not even remotely close to her harmonious tone. “They’re coming, and you will pay! You will burn for what you have done. Burn, demon!”

I yank my hand away from her tight grasp just as her eyes shut and her body sags in unnatural slumber. My whole body shakes, ice cold tingles running through my pulsing veins. My instincts tell me to kill her now. To reach into her chest and pulverize her heart with my bare hands. Whatever she’s possessed with needs a beating heart, and I won’t let it take her. I won’t let it take my Amelie.

With a shaky hand, I reach toward her, just barely touching the space where her most precious, vital organ lay protected. I don’t want to, but I don’t know what else to do. I don’t have any other choice.

Her hand suddenly grasps mine, but this time, the touch is soft, gentle. She pulls it closer to her, clutching it to her heart. Once again, her eyes open wide … and bright. Golden irises look back at me, filling the room with brilliant, blinding light.

“Help her,” a voice whispers. It isn’t her voice, but it’s trill and feminine, not a hint of malice. “Save her.”

“How?” I find myself asking with trembling lips. I don’t even know who - or what - I’m talking to, but nothing else matters other than saving Amelie’s life.

“To save her, you must know love,” the small voice says. “You must love her.”

Then all is black. Still.

Dark.

The room is silent and cold with only the rhythm of Amelie’s steady heartbeat echoing in my head. Even after all that’s happened, after seeing her face contorted in absolute evil, she looks so peaceful in slumber. Unable to let her go, I lie beside her and pull her into my arms, placing her head on my chest. The feeling of holding another person, cradling them with such care and affection is foreign, but not unpleasant.

No. It’s fucking perfect.

Amelie wraps her arm around my waist, rubbing her cheek against my chest. She lets out a soft sigh that ends in a hum. “Mmmm,” she smiles. “Niko.”

Come again?

I study her face to ensure that she is actually still asleep. Her breathing is deep and steady and her eyelids are sealed. I knew she was dreaming of me, but I’d never heard her say my name. And the smile attached to it? Shit. I feel like I just died a thousand sweet deaths.

All night, I hold Amelie tight as if she might slip away. And the truth is, she might. Something else - something deeply evil and unnatural - has corrupted her body. It has blackened her soul and claimed those startling, amber irises. I just hope to be strong enough to claim her heart.

“So…what do you think?”

Blood red, beady eyes narrow speculatively. I know this is bad. It won’t end well for Amelie… or me.

“Definitely sounds like she’s possessed,” Cyrus replies, rubbing the patch of dark hair on his chin. He scans the dimly lit bar for eavesdroppers before slipping his shades back on. Not that anyone would be alarmed; it’s a Dark owned and operated establishment.

“But the shit with the Light … how do you explain that?”

“The Light in her is fighting against it. But whatever is in her - whatever evil is running through her veins - it’s strong. Especially to manifest like that.”

We both sit in silence, sipping our poison while mulling over Cyrus’s theory. A few more patrons enter as night falls. Darkness brings the beasts to life.

“Who else have you told about her…” He looks around to ensure no one is overtly interested in our conversation. “…about her heritage?”

“No one,” I answer, shaking my head. “I haven’t told anyone but you.”

“Because you know what that would mean for her.”

He doesn’t have to say it. I know exactly what Amelie’s fate would be. What it
still
could be.

“And she had no recollection of that night?”

I shake my head. “She didn’t remember a thing. However, she did mention a dream she had … said it scared her.”

Cyrus looks over the rim of his dark shades, red eyes gleaming with blood lust. “Go on.”

I take a deep breath, not wanting to say it out loud. I know how it must sound. Shit, it sounds suspect as hell even in my head. “She dreamt that I was on the ground, surrounded in a pool of blood, dying. And she … she was standing above me, apparently my murderer.”

“Shit,” Cyrus mumbles.

“Yeah.” I down the rest of my bourbon and signal for another. “So honestly, what’s your take on it? What should I do?”

I can see Cyrus’s brows rise even behind his sunglasses. “You care about her, don’t you?”

I lower my eyes to the wooden tabletop. “More than my dumb ass should.”

“Hmph,” he snorts. He tips back the rest of his blood infused whiskey. “I’ll head back to Skiathos. Do some digging. In the meantime, you do what she told you.”

My eyes lift to meet his knowing grin. Although it’s not intended, it makes him look all the more menacing against his fangs. “What?”

“You do what she told you to do. You help her. You save her.” He smiles wide for added effect, and I see just a tiny glimpse of the roguish brute from my childhood. “You love her.”

“I don’t know,” I say shaking my head, though I can’t hide my own grin. “I don’t know if it’s possible.”

“But whatever you do,” he adds sternly in a hushed voice. “You don’t tell another soul about her. I’m serious, Niko. Do you know what your enemies will do with that kind of information? That’s like handing over a loaded gun.”

“I know. I know that, Cy. But how do I protect her? And what makes you think that she even feels anything for me?”

“She sleeps beside you every night, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And she’s no longer spelled to the room?”

“Right.”

“Then I don’t think,” he remarks, certainty resonating through his deep, husky voice. “I know.”

The house is in full swing later that evening, the depraved and wicked hungry for another taste of the taboo. The night is unseasonably warm for autumn, and the electrical charge in the air sends prickly heat all over my skin. This is no ordinary evening. It’s Halloween, and that means more than just ghouls, goblins and candy for kids. The Dark are out to play.

I make my way up to my room, dodging fake spider webs, bed sheet ghosts and other gaudiness. The girls have had their fun decorating, and now they will earn their keep. Everyone is just a little more susceptible, more
open
on Halloween.

Amelie isn’t in my room, and something in my gut twists. I want to tell her how I feel. Tell her that I care for her and will do anything to protect her. Tell her that having her work as a sexified housekeeper was just my immature way of keeping her close to me. Then, I’ll hope like hell she feels something for me. Something strong enough to make the beautiful maiden stay with the beast.

I pour a glass of bourbon, but it never meets my lips. It’s smashed against the wall in a million tiny shards, auburn liquor pooled on the floor. I’m looking into bright, azure eyes, my teeth clenched and my lips tight in fury. A chill sweeps over my body, igniting the white-hot flame in my fingertips. My eyes glow, fueled by unmistakable rage.

“You have thirty seconds to explain what you’re doing in my room before I rip your fucking head off and punt that shit back to Skiathos.” My hand tightens around her neck, lifting her off of her 5-inch heels.

“Good to see you too, Niko,” Aurora smiles through the pain in her neck. “I can see you’ve missed me. Quite a welcoming party you have here.”