Wicked Kiss (Nightwatchers) (28 page)

I couldn’t help but agree with the demon. Bishop had every
right to be angry with him, but there was something erratic about his behavior
now, something crazed flashing behind his gaze. Something dangerous.

“Bishop, let him go,” I said, my voice shaky. “Please. We don’t
have time for this.”

When he looked at me, Kraven shoved Bishop back from him.

“You think you can kill me? Not if I kill you first. You can’t
even handle being leader as it is. You can cut yourself up as much as you like,
you can hold hands with gray-girl all day long, but soon it won’t help. You’re
going to be completely bat-shit insane soon, no matter what quick fix you have
in place. And I’ll be happy to sit back and watch the show with popcorn in
hand.”

Bishop’s fists were clenched at his sides. “I’ve felt guilty
for killing you all this time. When I saw you for the first time in that alley
with no memories...knowing I had to stab you...”

Kraven’s eyes glowed red in the darkness, betraying his anger,
his pain. “You did it without any hesitation. Both times.”

“You don’t know what’s going on in my head.”

“I don’t want to know. I hate you.”

Kraven grabbed Bishop’s shirt and slammed him against a brick
wall so hard that the surface cracked. Bishop shook it off and launched himself
at the demon, grabbing him hard. They started to fight in earnest now, years of
anger and pain built up to overflow tonight. Two immortal beings raging against
each other, able to hurt, to draw blood, to break bones, but not kill each
other. Not without the dagger.

“Stop it,” I growled. “Both of you.”

It was so cold I swear my skin was turning to ice. My hunger
hadn’t stopped for a moment. It had only increased, doubling every minute, even
though we were far enough away from the house that it shouldn’t have bothered
me, and there was enough distance between me and where Bishop and Kraven were
fighting.

My heart pounded faster and faster. My breath came so quickly I
thought I might hyperventilate. A wash of darkness moved across my vision.

I let out a harsh cry and collapsed to my knees. The world
spun—reminding me of the one time me and Carly did vodka shots before a house
party to give ourselves courage, but ended up violently ill instead. But this
was worse—much worse than that. I clawed at the pavement, breaking my already
short nails.

“Samantha—” Bishop was at my side a moment later. There was a
bloody gash on his forehead.

I moaned, then dragged in a ragged breath that hurt my throat.
“No, don’t get close. Too close. Too much. So cold, Bishop. It’s so cold.
Please...”

Kraven stood nearby. His face was bleeding, too. “You know
what’s happening to her. You know what this means.”

“Be quiet,” he snarled.

“It’s time. Don’t wait to see what happens to her next—or how
much she’ll suffer. Put her out of her misery now.” Instead of joy in the
demon’s tone, there was dark certainty. He didn’t say this to be cruel. This was
something they’d discussed before.

What to do when I finally went into stasis.

“I thought you actually gave a damn about her,” Bishop said
tightly. “Guess I was wrong.”

Kraven shot him a look of disdain. “Suggesting a quick, clean
death, rather than melting on the sidewalk? Rather than seeing her turn into a
total sociopath? Yeah, you’re right. Guess I don’t give a damn.”

Bishop swore. “Go to the party. Find the others. Help them.
Stop that angel any way you have to.”

“Wait. What about...I can kiss her again if it’ll help.”

“It won’t help. Not anymore.”

“But—”

“No. You’ll never kiss her again.”

Bishop picked me up in his arms as if I weighed nothing more
than a feather and cradled me against his chest. Then he turned away from Kraven
and began running down the street in the opposite direction. I could barely lift
my head to see Kraven still standing there watching us get farther and farther
away, a bleak look in his amber-colored eyes.

He knew the same thing I knew—whether I lived or died, this was
the end for me.

Chapter 26

Kraven had put it perfectly. Tonight, I would either
die and fade away, or I would go into a zombielike state. And if I survived, I
would come out the other side totally evil.

A living nightmare.

I’d rather die than be like that.

This was happening too fast. It had been drawing closer and
closer, but I’d really started to believe I was different. I’d believed the
lies.

I wasn’t different. I was a gray. And I was terrified of what
was to come next.

Bishop came to a townhome and kicked the front door. The lock
splintered the frame as it swung open. It was all dark inside. Nobody was home.
He carried me inside to the living room where he gently placed me down on the
sofa.

I twisted. It wasn’t pain, really. But something bad was
happening to me. The cold and hunger combined to make me numb as it burrowed
into me—a caterpillar creating its cocoon. My vision went blurry and my skin
turned to ice.

“What can I do?” Bishop asked harshly. “What can I do to help
you? I need time to find Stephen. To get your soul back. It’s not too late.”

I just shook my head back and forth. It
was
too late. It was happening, and it was happening now. “Stephen
said the only way to hold off stasis—would be to feed.”

“When did he tell you this?” His voice turned angry. “Why
didn’t you tell me?”

Whatever was inside me moved through my limbs to my fingers and
toes, making everything numb and cold. “Doesn’t matter anymore. I wouldn’t do
it, anyway. I won’t hurt anyone like that—not again—no matter what.”

“You should have told me anyway, Sam. Damn it.”

He never called me Sam. Always Samantha. More formal—even
though I loved how he said my name. “But I can’t feed. I can’t—”

Then, suddenly, his mouth was on mine. I let out a cry of
surprise. He kissed me hard and deep, gathering me in his arms so much that he
raised me right up off the sofa.

This is what I’d dreamed about—Bishop’s lips on mine as he
kissed me with total abandon.

But it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“Feed,” he whispered. “Come on. Feed on me, Samantha.”

His heart beat fast against my own weakening pulse. I still
sensed his soul, I still craved it more than anything else, but there was a wall
there, muting it, closing off my access to it—even if I’d wanted to take it. My
heart wrenched at the thought of hurting him. But if he’d done this before, I
wouldn’t have had any choice. I would have lost control and destroyed him
forever.

I had control now. But there was a very good reason.

No, scratch that. A very
bad
reason.

“It’s too late,” I whispered.

“No.” His voice caught and twisted. “I won’t accept that.”

“I’m dying.”

“No!” He got up and kicked the coffee table, sending it flying
across the room and splintering into the wall. Then he fell to my side again,
his expression agonized. “Take my soul. Take all of it. I don’t care. I can’t
lose you.”

When he crushed his mouth against mine again and kissed me so
hard and desperately, my lips felt bruised.

But nothing happened. It was a while before he finally
relented.

My voice was strained and barely audible. “Do your job. Take my
life. End this. Don’t let me become like Stephen.”

“I’m not giving up on you.”

Tears streaked from the corners of my eyes. The horrible cold
pressed in on me on all sides, despite Bishop’s warm touch. Icy fingers sank
into me, freezing me from the inside out. “You’ve killed things like me before.
Why is this any different?”

“Because
you’re
different.” He
reached down to clutch my hands in his. His brows were drawn tightly together
above eyes that blazed bright blue. “You’re better than this. You don’t realize
how strong you really are—not yet. You’ve only just started to know what you
are. You’re amazing. And you can fight this.” His voice was broken, raw. “I can
try to heal you, Sam. Stay with me!”

As he spoke, his voice had grown fainter and fainter. I wanted
to reply. I wanted to tell him that I loved him. I didn’t want to leave him. I
wanted to be with him, now and forever. Despite everything, despite my fear over
his past, despite it being such a short time since we’d met. Despite the secrets
and lies...

I loved him.

But there was nothing he could do to save me.

My vision...my world...faded to gray.

Then to black.

Then to white.

And then...uh, blue.

Blue?

Yes. Blue. With fluffy white clouds.

There was something at my back. Something hard. I pressed my
hands down to feel hard sand.

Where was I? What just happened?

“Are you going to lie there all day or what?”

I recognized the voice, but it was a moment before I could put
a name to it. I pushed myself into a sitting position and looked around to see
that I was in the middle of a wasteland, just the one from my dream about
Bishop...where he’d kissed me and then killed me.

I swiveled until I saw Seth sitting nearby at a table, looking
at me.

“You,” I said, confusion crashing down all around me.
“I...uh...what’s going on?”

“You died, that’s what’s going on.”

I slowly got to my feet, turning around in a slow circle to
take in the endless desert that stretched out all around me. The sky was the
same flat gray I remembered from the last dream. And it was warm—I hadn’t felt
this warm outside, or in, since my soul was taken. At least, not unless I was
holding Bishop’s hand.

“I’m dreaming right now. But how can I dream if I’m dead?” I
whipped back around toward him. He looked different from the last time I saw
him. Cleaner. Better groomed. His dark beard was trimmed short, not long and
scraggly. Now I realized he was at least ten years younger than I always thought
he was. If he was even thirty I’d be surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“In your after-death dream?”

“Yeah.”

He shrugged. “I guess you wanted me here.”

I studied him, trying to figure out what didn’t seem right.
Then it clicked. “Wait. You sound totally sane.”

“I am sane here.” He glanced around. “Other places, not so
much.”

I looked down at the table he sat at to see that there was a
game of chess set up. “I’ve dreamed about chess before.”

“You were playing it?”

“Yes, I mean, I think so. But I don’t know how to play chess.
Checkers, now we’re talking. But chess is complicated.”

“You’re right. It’s very complicated.” He waved a hand. “It’s
your move, by the way. I’ve been waiting a very long time for you to get
here.”

I sat down across from him and looked at the board before
meeting his brown eyes. “How can I play if I don’t know how?”

“You know more than you think you do.”

“You said that to me before, but seriously, I don’t know.”

“Then I’ll teach you. Be happy to. Only...” He glanced around.
“We don’t have much time left.”

“I’m dead.” I said it flatly, shocked that the idea of it
didn’t trouble me as much as I thought it might. Just like before, I still felt
numb. “And I’m dreaming.”

“You are.”

Maybe it was because I felt better here. More whole. There was
no hunger, no cold. But still, there was something missing. Something that felt
empty in my chest.

Bishop.
My hands began to tremble
and I pressed them tightly together. “I can’t stay here.”

“First, make your move.” He nodded at the board.

One piece glowed with a soft blue light, drawing my attention.
“What’s that piece called?”

Seth looked down the board. “That’s the bishop.”

My breath caught. When I put my hand on it I felt it hum
pleasantly against my skin. The piece knew where it wanted to go; all it needed
was my help to get there.

I pushed it forward two spaces. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” Seth smiled, leaned forward, and made his move, knocking
over my bishop with his piece. He snatched it off the board and placed it to the
side. “Check.”

“Check? What does that mean?”

His lips curved. “It means I’m winning.”

I blinked at him. “Why am I dreaming about you, Seth? Why
now?”

“Time for you to go.” He stood up from the table and the chess
board shimmered away so there was nothing left on the table. A moment later,
there was no table, either.

My panicked gaze shot to his. “But where can I go if I’m
dead?”

He drew closer and patted my cheek. “It won’t be much longer
now. Angel, demon, light, dark. Even gray. Their destiny is already decided.
Soon. Very soon.”

“But I don’t understand.”

“You do. You just don’t want to yet.”

“Wait, I don’t—”

But then the wasteland slipped away. Seth vanished. And
everything went black again.

A moment later, my eyes shot wide-open and I sat bolt upright,
gasping for breath.

I was in the dark living room again, on the couch where I’d
died. I frantically searched the shadows to find Bishop.

He was there. Sitting with his back against the wall, his eyes
glazed. Only the light from the moon and streetlamp shining through the window
allowed me to see him.

“Bishop...” I began.

“Couldn’t save you, couldn’t heal you. You died in my
arms.”

“I’m not dead.”

He shook his head back and forth. “I hear you, but you’re not
here. Memories haunt me now—like they always have. Always, forever. I’m okay
with that, when it’s you. Haunt me, Samantha. Haunt me till the end. The very
end.”

His voice was low and hollow. The sound of it sent a chill
straight through me. And his words, his tone—he’d completely lost his mind.

My heart broke for him, for his pain, knowing that I was the
one to cause it.

“Couldn’t save you,” he muttered. “Couldn’t save you. It was
too late. I failed you. I failed you and now you’re gone.”

My body ached as I gingerly pushed myself up to a sitting
position.

“I’m not dead,” I said again, stronger this time.

When he laughed, the sharp sound cut through the dark room.
“Saw you die. Watched you die. You’re gone and now you haunt me.” He inhaled
raggedly and squeezed his eyes shut. “Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it.”

I shakily got to my feet and moved toward him. He opened his
eyes and looked up at me as I approached. The devastation mixed with glazed
insanity in his eyes tore me up inside.

I crouched next to him. When I reached out to him, he cringed
away from me, and averted his gaze toward the window.

“Bishop.” Fear made my throat so thick it was nearly impossible
to speak. “Look at me.”

I didn’t accept that he’d completely lost it. He believed that
he could save me right until the moment it was too late, so I wasn’t giving up
on him. I didn’t think I’d ever give up on him.

I wasn’t losing him. Even if he’d already lost himself.

“I wanted to save you,” he whispered.

“I know.” I moved closer to him until I was only inches away.
“And now I want to save
you.
”

I grabbed his face between my hands and kissed him.

Electricity sparked between us, visible sparks—but it didn’t
hurt. It felt good. It felt better than it ever had before.

This was pure magic.

I was meant to kiss Bishop like this.

His tense muscles finally began to relax. I thought he would
pull back, but instead he pulled me hard against him and deepened the kiss,
holding nothing back.

I’d always mocked those movies where the characters kissed like
this—such passion, such desperation between them as if they would die if they
stopped.

I wouldn’t be mocking them anymore. No way.

When Bishop finally pulled back a little, there was surprise in
his wide, blue eyes—but the fog of insanity had lifted.

Relief filled me. It hadn’t been too late—for either of us.

“You’re alive,” he managed.

“I am.”

“You kissed me.”

“I sure did.”

“And—” his brows drew together with confusion ”—you’re not
sucking my soul out through my mouth. Although, with a kiss like that it would
have been very worth it.”

I couldn’t help but laugh nervously. “This is going to sound
really strange, but I think part of me stayed dead. That
was
my stasis. And I didn’t survive it.”

Confusion crossed his gaze. “You’re very lucid for a
zombie.”

I didn’t understand any of this, but I knew there were two
outcomes to stasis. Death or total evil. Unless this was one big illusion, this
was neither. “Luckily, I’m not a zombie. But...the gray parts of me
did
die—the hunger, the chills.”

Clarity shone in his gaze. “If you weren’t a nexus, the rest of
you would have stayed dead, too.”

“I think so.” I nodded, stunned. “But I’m back.”

He pressed his fingertips to my throat to check my pulse. I
definitely had one. He shook his head. “So I’m completely insane now. That must
be it.”

“Nope, you’re not. Trust me. But we can’t argue about it any
longer. We have to get to the party. The team needs their leader.”

Bishop took my face gently between his hands, touching me as if
he couldn’t believe I was actually here, with a heartbeat, back from the dead,
not a zombie, and I could be near him without his soul making me crazy.

“This is completely unbelievable to me,” he whispered.

He didn’t say it in a “this is a miracle! Hallelujah!” way.
More of a “what’s the catch?” I’d been thinking the exact same thing, which
helped dampen my joy of being finally relieved of my gray hunger.

“Kind of too good to be true, isn’t it?” I said quietly.

“Kind of.” He nodded gravely.

Bishop might be many fantastical things, and we might have next
to nothing in common, but at his heart he was a realist just like me. My
resurrection was not exactly textbook. Even I knew that. Especially with that
after-death dream starring Seth, the fallen angel.