Wicked Kiss (Nightwatchers) (8 page)

“That’s Roth.”

“Is he...” Her brows drew together “...as horrible as he
seems?”

I was about to agree with that statement wholeheartedly, but
then I thought about it. “I don’t know. Demons are supposed to be evil and
horrible. I don’t like him. He’s a jerk, but he’s part of the team. He’s doing
his thing. And he did
save your butt.” I thought
about what little I knew about Kraven. “Demons who’ve been humans before...they
have stories behind them. They’re not a hundred percent bad. At least, I don’t
think they are. I mean, I guess they did some really bad stuff when they were
alive in order to become a demon. Right?”

“I’m sure they did.”

I remembered Zach’s story about the good deed with the drowning
kid, and that giving him the chance to become an angel. I figured it would be
the exact opposite—a bad deed—to become a demon. “It’s bizarre, really. Because,
as far as I’m concerned, demons should be totally evil to the core.”

That was one of the things that freaked me out the most. How
you couldn’t tell who was a demon and who was an angel. How similar they looked.
Only their imprints confirmed what they really were.

“In the beginning,” I continued, “I assumed Bishop was a demon
by the way he handled that dagger of his.”

“Yes, he does have a way with the Hallowed Blade.”

My ears perked up at this name. She’d called it that before.
“Is that what it’s called?”

She nodded gravely. “All angels of death are assigned one.”

I blinked. “Angel of...what?”

She glanced down at me sprawled on the floor. “Angel of death.
Bishop is one of Heaven’s assassins, which is why he’s one of the few officially
authorized to carry such a dangerous blade.”

“Oh.” I could barely find my voice.

“Didn’t you know this about him?”

“No. It—it hadn’t come up.” It was a whisper. I couldn’t manage
much more than that. A piece of information like this was enough to knock the
breath right out of me.

“That’s why he was chosen to lead this mission. His record
shows that he doesn’t hesitate when it comes to—”

“Killing,” I finished for her, feeling sick inside. “The
ritual...and dealing with the grays...”

She nodded. “If his departure hadn’t been tampered with, I have
no doubt that the grays would all be...” She trailed off and looked at me
sheepishly. “Of course, I’m sure an exception would still be made for those who
don’t feed and whose souls still exist intact. Somewhere. He wouldn’t have just
killed you indiscriminately just because you’re, well...one of them.”

I swallowed hard. “I hope you’re right.”

Bishop’s mission here in Trinity required someone with the
right instincts. No hesitation. It had always made my blood turn to ice, seeing
him at work. That determined, emotionless expression that came over his face
just before the blade met its mark.

I’d known Bishop was dangerous, but...an actual angel of
death?

Holy hell.

“I should rest.” Cassandra stood up and moved toward the door.
“Tomorrow I need to get a fresh start.”

“Cassandra...” I said, my voice still barely audible. “Can I
ask you a question?”

“Of course. What?”

I took a deep breath and looked right at her. “What’s the real
reason you were sent here?”

A shaky smile formed on her lips. “I’m here to lend a hand to
the team during this difficult mission. Why else? Good night, Samantha.”

“Good night.”

She left, but not before I’d managed to get a small glimpse of
her thoughts. It was another one of my newly uncovered talents. I could read a
demon or angel’s mind...if they weren’t actively trying to block me. All I had
to do was look into their eyes and concentrate hard.

Cassandra lied. She wasn’t here just to help the team. She had
her own mission, an entirely separate one.

I really wished I knew what it was.

* * *

It took me hours before I finally drifted off to sleep.
My head was a horrific mass of nightmares about evil grays and dead girls,
before they finally parted for something much more pleasant.

A dream about Bishop.

He was seated across from me at a small wooden table in the
middle of a wasteland—a cracked, dry desert that stretched as far as the eye
could see. There was nothing in sight to the horizons all around us. The sky was
a flat, pale gray, like a coating of paint.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“Good question.” He wore black. Black jeans, black T-shirt. The
darkness only made the color of his eyes stand out more—like sapphires.

What Cassandra had told me about his job in Heaven was so far
in the distance now I couldn’t remember the details. I knew it had disturbed me,
but at the moment it was the last thing on my mind. All I felt was happy. Happy
to see him. Happy we were alone—no matter where this was. “I’m dreaming right
now, aren’t I?”

“You are.” He smiled—an easy smile that made my heart do an
automatic flip.

“So this isn’t real? Not some sort of mind meld?”

“No. Just a dream.
Your
dream.”

I looked down at myself to see I wore a fancy red dress, gauzy
and big and silky, like a ball gown. I’d never worn anything so extravagant in
my entire life.

“You’re beautiful,” Bishop said.

My gaze snapped to his. “It’s just the dress. It’s not me.”

“You’re wrong. It is you.” There was something in his eyes that
made me believe he meant it. “I wish I could kiss you right now.”

“You
can
kiss me here.” If this was
just a dream, then nothing I said or did counted. I liked the idea of that—total
freedom. “Normally in my dreams...we do more than just kiss.”

His brows went up. “Really.”

I nodded, fighting a smile.

“You want to do more than just kiss me, Samantha?”

“Maybe I do.” My heart pounded. The endless bravery I normally
had in my dreams seemed to be escaping like sand sliding through my fingers.
“But there’s a problem.”

“What?”

“There’s a severe balance of power missing in this...whatever
this is between us. I know hardly anything about you. You know everything about
me. I have no power over you at all.”

“Wrong. You took part of my soul. You know I’m drawn to you
like nothing I can control, which is why I’ve tried—and failed—to stay away.
Even when I do keep my distance you can still see through my eyes whenever you
want to.”

This was another little skill I had. After I’d kissed Bishop
and taken part of his soul, there were the odd times I got flashes of what he
saw—even if we were nowhere close to each other. I couldn’t read his mind or
feel his emotions, but I could see through his eyes.

“It’s not whenever I want to,” I said. “It’s totally
random.”

“You underestimate yourself. Your power. But I’m not surprised.
This game has barely begun.”

“Game?” I frowned. But then my gaze moved to the table between
us. I hadn’t even noticed what was on it before. It was a chess board with white
and black pieces. “Are we playing a game?”

“We seem to be.”

The pieces were already in play, not all lined up at the edges.
Bishop was playing the white pieces, and I was playing the black ones. He’d
already taken one of my pawns. “But I don’t even know how to play chess.”

“Then you need to learn. And you need to learn fast.”

The next moment, he stood up and swept the board off the table.
The pieces went flying in every direction.

I got to my feet, alarmed. “Bishop, what are you—?”

He didn’t let me finish my sentence. He grabbed the front of my
dress and pulled me toward him, crushing his mouth against mine.

My thoughts fell away as he kissed me—and I kissed him back.
Now
this
was more like my normal dreams about
Bishop. Passionate, reckless, total abandon. Incredible.

No hunger to ruin the moment. No ravenous need to devour his
soul.

Just his lips against mine with no consequences. No punishment.
Only pleasure.

When our lips finally parted and I opened my eyes, there was a
coldness in his gaze that betrayed the scorching heat of the kiss.

Cold as ice. It was the look he normally got just before
he—

I gasped as he sliced the dagger into my chest. I scrambled
back from him, collapsing to the ground. Grasping for the hilt, I pulled it out
with a pained cry. My blood was difficult to see against the red dress, but it
flowed, pulsing out with every beat of my heart.

I gasped for breath. “I trusted you.”

“No, you didn’t.” He stared down at me sprawled on the cracked,
dry ground. His dark brows were drawn tightly together. “You never did.”

I fell all the way backward, struggling to keep breathing. All
I could manage was a small shriek when Cassandra appeared behind Bishop. He
didn’t see her.

He didn’t see the golden dagger in her hand.

She slashed it across his throat in one smooth, violent motion.
His hands flew to the wound as the blood began to gush. A moment later, he fell
to my side.

The roaring vortex of the Hollow opened up—even here. It was
the last thing I saw before I died.

And the last thing I felt was Bishop grasping hold of my
hand.

* * *

I woke up, gasping for breath. My sheets were soaked
with sweat. I felt the strong urge to bolt from my bed and start running as fast
as I could somewhere, anywhere. But I forced myself to stay right where I
was.

Bishop was an angel of death. One of Heaven’s assassins.

Cassandra hadn’t been lying when she’d told me this. I believed
her. This piece of the puzzle fit really well, even if it revealed a terrifying
picture.

He’d killed me in my dream tonight.

It was what I feared would happen in reality, no matter how
much I tried to deny it, even to myself.

But I was different. Bishop and me—we were connected on a
deeper level. Even though I didn’t know anything about his life before he became
an angel, or his life
as
an angel, I had to trust my
gut when it came to him. And my heart.

Because I
did
trust him.

Heart and gut didn’t lie—at least, not at the same time.

They
didn’t.

Chapter 8

I might be seventeen years old, but watching my mother
leave for the airport in a taxi still made me choke up like a little kid.

“Call me if there are any problems.” She gave me a big hug in
the driveway. I clung tight to her before finally letting go. “I’m sure you and
Cassandra will be fine here without me, but no parties, okay?”

I just nodded, my throat tight.

I hadn’t said a word to try to stop her. Even though I hated
how Cassandra had magically coerced her to leave town, I knew it was for the
best. She’d be safer away from here for a week. And she was so excited about the
trip, how could I spoil it for her?

There had always been something stopping her from taking this
dream vacation. A husband who didn’t like to travel (unless it was permanent,
and in the direction of his new girlfriend), a kid who always had anxiety
attacks on airplanes (that was me—I hate being trapped in small spaces,
especially three miles above the ground), and then a job that barely allowed her
any time off.

So I was happy for her. Really.

But standing there, watching the taxi drive away down the
street, the realization that I was really alone sank in deep. Even though we
didn’t always get along so well, she represented my normal life. And soon she’d
be five thousand miles away.

“I need to go,” Cassandra told me after I went back inside, out
of the cold, and ate a big breakfast of eggs, toast and Pop-Tarts. She gleefully
had some cold Chinese food and more red goo.

She wore clothes she’d borrowed from me this morning. Just
because an angel arrived ready to do her mission—whatever that mission really
was—didn’t mean she packed a bag. Even though she was a few inches taller than
me, and had a bigger chest, my clothes looked good on her. It was annoying how
good they looked, really.

“To the church?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“I’ll come with you.” I had to get out of here. I couldn’t keep
dwelling on what was wrong with my life—I had to do something to fix it. Also, I
needed to see Bishop. I wanted to ask him about what Cassandra told me—him being
an angel of death. I wanted to know why he’d never told me this before. Maybe
that could help stop nightmares like the one last night.

“No, I think it’s best that you stay here.” She put her dishes
in the sink. “Let the professionals handle this problem.”

I blanched. “You think I’d get in the way?”

“I just think it would be safer if you stayed here. Take the
day to rest and reflect. I’ll let you know if we learn anything.”

“Rest and reflect?” I repeated, dumbfounded.

“Exactly. Have a lovely day.” Without another word she was
gone, out the front door. I watched through the kitchen window as she walked
down the driveway and disappeared around the corner.

Rest and reflect? Seriously?

Needless to say, there was very little resting. Lots of
reflecting, though, as I thought and overthought everything over the next couple
of hours.

Even without being around anyone to trigger my hunger, I still
felt it pushing in at the edges, gnawing on my control like a dog with a bone.
Taking part of Colin’s soul last night had barely satisfied me for a couple
hours.

It scared me—especially with too much time to think and nobody
around to distract me.

I flipped through the newspaper only to see another article
about two more mysterious deaths in the city. Police were stumped. There was no
cause of death that could be determined, no sign of murder or disease. It was as
if the victims had just stopped living. The only clue that the deaths were
connected was the strange black lines around their mouths.

I forced myself to stop reading the article and flipped to
another about three teens who’d committed suicide on Friday night. They didn’t
go to my school and I didn’t recognize the names, but it also sent a chill
through me.

There was no good news in Trinity to be found today, it would
seem. It wasn’t just me who was in trouble in this city. Everybody—even those
not touched by the supernatural—was at risk.

Studying was my strong point. It got me good grades. It should
be able to help me get the answers I needed to help myself and other people at
risk right now. I went on the internet and searched for more information about
nexi, the spawn of angels and demons.

I found nothing helpful. At all.

After a full half hour of staring at the screen, a scream of
frustration rose in my throat, but I forced it back down and tried to think
rationally. Who my birth parents were was something I had no control over. I
needed to refocus my energy and attention on what I
could
control: my goal of finding Stephen and retrieving my soul.
I’d deal with what it meant to be a nexus after I did everything I could to fix
my immediate problems, lose my hunger and have the chance to be close to Bishop
(or anyone else, for that matter) without...difficulties.

I grabbed the landline to call Stephen’s house, which was only
two doors down from my own. My cell phone had taken up permanent residence in my
nightstand drawer. Grays had a weird supernatural vibe that messed with the
signal and made phones like that completely useless to me.

His mother picked up. I shakily asked if she’d heard from him
lately and where he might be. She had no information for me—and yet again, she
said she was sorry. This wasn’t the first call I’d made to the Keyes residence
in the last week. I’m sure his mother thought I was obsessed with her son. I
was. But not for the reason she might think.

Discouraged, I hung up after saying a hurried goodbye. I stood
in the center of my bedroom, my fists clenched at my sides, feeling utterly
helpless and alone.

I hated feeling that I had no control over my life anymore.

Cassandra told me to stay home and let the “professionals”
handle this. Well, I’d decided I wholeheartedly disagreed. I would go to the
church and get my answers, even if it was just to grill Bishop about his
mysterious past.

Just as I’d pulled my coat on and started for the front door,
the phone rang. I almost ignored it, but something drove me to pick it up.

I picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Samantha.”

I froze. He’d only said my name, but I knew the voice. My grip
on the receiver tightened. “Stephen?”

“I need to talk to you.”

My words tripped over themselves in a hurry to escape my mouth.
“Where’s my soul? Where’s Carly’s soul?”

“I have to see you in person.” There was a short hesitation.
“Look, I know you hate me...”

I had to slump down in the nearest chair since my legs gave
out. “I just want to be normal again.” The words bubbled up my throat before I
could hold them back. I knew very well that it couldn’t ever happen. Even if I
wasn’t a gray, being the secret daughter of an angel and a demon had made me
abnormal from the day I was born. It didn’t matter that I’d only recently
learned the truth.

“Meet me at the Trinity Mall,” he said. “On the fourth floor by
the railing. It’s busy there today so you don’t have to worry about me doing
anything threatening, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

I stood up and pressed my back against the wall for support.
“Everything about you is threatening, Stephen.”

“Don’t bring one of your new friends.”

“Why wouldn’t I bring all of them? You’re the bad guy here,
remember?”

“I’m not as bad as you might think. We’re the same. We should
be on the same side.”

My grip tightened on the phone. “I’m on my own side. Nobody
else’s.”

“Then you should want all the information you can get about
what’s to come. Meet me there in an hour.”

He hung up.

I stared at the phone before I finally placed it back on its
base.

I’d been searching for him for a week and had come up with
nothing but air. If Stephen didn’t want to be found, then he wouldn’t be found.
But now he wanted to talk to me.

On his terms.

My first instinct was to find Bishop, but if Stephen saw him
with me I knew he’d leave and I’d never see him again.

I had to get my soul back on my own. Put the lid back on this
box and keep it there. Then I’d be able to leave the city again, get past the
barrier. Other people’s souls—including Bishop’s—wouldn’t drive me crazy with
hunger. Everything would be better.

I could still fix this.

* * *

The Trinity Mall. Not my favorite place in the city.

Over three hundred stores on four levels, it was a shopping
mall slash tourist destination. Trinity was huge enough to have a few malls, but
this was the crown jewel right in the heart of downtown. I used to love coming
here with Carly, shopping for hours on end, and having lunch in the food court
downstairs, back when we both had regular-size appetites. We’d still gorge on
the food—hamburgers, Chinese food, souvlaki, French fries, you name it. She’d
complain about her slow metabolism and grumble about how I never gained a pound.
I’d tell her she looked fine—because she always did whether she realized it or
not. I should have told her how much I envied her curves.

But then I ran into some trouble here. After my parents’
divorce was finalized six months ago, I went on a bit of a shoplifting spree.
Or, as my guidance counselor put it, “a cry for attention.”

It was never much, just enough to give me a rush of excitement
that I was getting away with something. That I wasn’t being perfect, or good, or
coloring inside the lines like everyone had told me to all my life. Instead of
focusing on being a perfect student and getting all As, I got a lipstick. A
scarf. A leather wallet. I knew it was wrong even as I shoved them in my pocket
or under my shirt. I didn’t try to justify it as something I needed that I
couldn’t afford. I could afford it. My father felt enough guilt over the divorce
and his move across the ocean that my monthly allowance, written on checks with
his gold-stamped law firm logo in the corner, were so big I didn’t even need to
apply for part-time jobs. I mean, I couldn’t buy a car or anything major, but
for the necessities of life, I could get what I needed.

Getting caught had been mortifying in so many ways. No charges
were laid, but my humiliation was witnessed by several kids from school. The cop
had been a jerk to me, treating me like a total juvie and a spoiled brat. I’d
sat in the back of a cop car for an hour, and only through sheer will had I
avoided having the anxiety attack I always got in enclosed spaces. I’d closed my
eyes and breathed in and out, pretending to be somewhere, anywhere else.

My penance for my short life of crime was to do some community
service. I worked in the kitchen at a local mission and had the chance to
interact with people who really had it bad while I had never appreciated how
good I had it. I had a home, a roof over my head and a mother who loved me. I’d
met homeless people who had nothing and nobody.

It was the most important lesson of my life. Be grateful for
what you have, since it can be taken away at any time. Sometimes fate steps in
to pull the rug from beneath your feet whether you’re prepared or not—and we all
fall differently.

I now regretted my month of shoplifting, and not just because
I’d been caught. I knew it was wrong and I’d done it for stupid reasons. Not
that there was ever a good reason to steal.

But I still hated this mall. I usually shopped at the one on
the north side of the city. Took longer to get there, but at least the floors
weren’t tiled with my shame.

Past Macy’s and a lineup of other stores that at one time would
have been calling my name were the escalators up to the fourth floor. I wasn’t a
fan of the elevators due to my claustrophobia. I didn’t even like wearing
turtlenecks.

At the moment, I didn’t need any more anxiety than I already
had.

The railing curved in a circle around the open center of the
fourth floor and looked down into the main floor food court a hundred feet
below. A massive chandelier of crystal birds hung from the glass ceiling, a
piece by some artist that had cost a ton of money when the mall opened twenty
years ago. When the sun from the skylights hit it just right—it was magic.

I gripped the railing and gazed down nervously at the food
court. Despite my big breakfast, my stomach grumbled. Sundays were a busy day at
the mall. There were thousands of people here, and I swear I sensed the press,
the heat and the scent of every one of their souls.

I couldn’t stay here for very long. Already, I felt the need to
escape.

“You’re here.”

Stephen’s voice bit through my concentration and I tensed,
turning slowly to see him leaning against the railing six feet to my left.

This was real. He was here. I’d finally found him.

Or, rather, he’d found me.

Stay calm.

But that was a losing proposition. I couldn’t be calm around
Stephen Keyes.

A very short time ago I thought he was the hottest guy I’d ever
seen, in Trinity or anywhere else. Black hair, cinnamon-colored eyes with a
slight exotic slant to them thanks to his Hawaiian-born mother.

Stephen only dated the most beautiful girls. I never expected
to be one of them. I preferred to admire him from afar and keep my heart safe
from being trampled on. But...then he kissed me. And he’d hurt more than just my
heart.

For a fleeting moment, I’d honestly thought the boy I’d always
had a crush on had been into me. Instead, he’d been on assignment for my aunt to
remove my soul and free my nexus abilities so they could be used for her
gain.

I had no interest in someone like Stephen who would lie to me,
use me and steal something so valuable from me. And I never would again. While
Bishop had sworn to help me, and I did believe he meant it despite my many
doubts and questions about him, the only person I completely trusted was the one
I saw in the mirror.