Taint of Shadow [Heart of Darkness #1] Read online

  Noah drove into one as fast as his truck could navigate the streets.

  It's about Kayla. He took a turn so fast the tires squealed. What about her? About her, in this part of town, couldn't mean anything good. Nothing good, except that it's something about her, finally. Why hadn't Moira said more? Why hadn't she explained? He had a cell phone; he could talk and drive.

  She'd only given him the district to go to, not a specific place within it. Not a bar, or a corner, just a wide area. What am I supposed to do, walk around one of the worst areas here looking for the unknown? He had good odds of finding the unknown, too. Unknown muggers, gang members, and whores. All sorts of people that he'd rather not know.

  He steered the truck next to an open length of curb and killed the engine, deep in the heart of the district. Less than ten seconds passed, as he looked around to decide which way to set out, before a passel of too-interested youths had assembled on the cracked sidewalk. Under do-rags and sideways caps, they craned their heads to check out his vehicle.

  "Nice truck, man,” one called as he climbed out of the driver's seat.

  You want to be alpha? Start with this bunch of puppies. Fearless, he strode over. “Thanks. Keep your hands off it."

  "Gonna hurt mah feelings,” the tough sneered, displaying teeth covered in a golden grill. “You think we'd touch your ride without your say so?"

  "Yes."

  The gang laughed. “Nah, no way, man. We'd just get your say so first"

  Noah took a step closer and flashed wolf-yellow eyes. “You packing silver to go with that gold bling? Because if you're not, the only thing you'll get is hurt."

  "Hey, just friendly talkin'. No threat.” Down here, the street rats knew about the predators on the streets. Meals on wheels for the fangs was good business, as good as chopped car parts or illegal drugs, and if you knew the vampires, you knew the werewolves, too. No one wanted to mess with the wolves. Not even the big gangs.

  "I hear it. Friendly talking.” He smirked then pulled out his wallet and tossed them a couple notes. Kayla's face smiled at him from the clear plastic photo cover. “Hey, have you guys seen this woman tonight?"

  One of the smaller members, a scrawny guy with a gold chain, nodded. “Yeah, I seen her. Got out of a cab a couple blocks up. Jeans and a black T-shirt. I ‘member ‘cause it fits tight on her titties. Sunglasses, too."

  He threw the kid a note for himself. “Thanks. Point me the right way, and make sure no one touches my truck."

  Gold Chain pointed up the street, and Noah took off at a brisk pace, heart a hammer in his chest. They had seen her. Alive. Kayla is alive.

  And a needle in a haystack. The bar crowds made it difficult to scan for individual people, let alone smell for them with his wolf's senses. Cheap beer, alcohol-soaked frozen fruit, and a sea of the unwashed masses. No pack member with a functional nose would stay here, but why would she come to this area at all?

  Three bartenders hadn't seen her, and they assured him that they would've remembered her. One of the drunken patrons said that he'd help to look for her, although he'd keep her if he found her. He got up, too, and fell over, unable to stand. The bartender rolled his eyes as if this happened all the damn time.

  Noah walked over a street. A single bar promised inebriation by third-rate stock, but that was all the inspiration most people here needed. Still, prostitutes strutted around in high heels, and maybe one of them had seen Kayla.

  "Looking for a good time?” The bleached blonde had on a tight red dress that outlined the hard nubs of her nipples in clear bas relief. He could see every crinkle, every bump, even the mole just above where the dark flesh of her areola must meet the light flesh of her breast. Over her hips, he could see the thin, frayed straps of thong underwear, and nappy black stockings clung to her legs.

  "For a woman, but not one of the girls,” he said, not unkindly. “Have you seen her tonight?"

  She'd lost interest already. “Can't help you."

  On the corner, though, a youngish brunette in a green dress that looked like a nightgown knew more. “I saw her,” she said, tottering a bit on her battered stilettos. “She was over there, talking to Mark—he's a male hooker—but she was really watching this guy."

  "What guy?"

  The girl couldn't have been more than a new eighteen. How do they end up out here at that age? A chemical tang hovered around her, the answer to his question.

  "He was ... weird.” She scrunched up her nose. “Wore really weird clothes. Older style, like in that movie about Jekyll and Hyde, but still made, you know, today. Like a vest, with a gold chain like for a watch, and white shirt under it."

  He thought he understood. “Okay, I get you. What did the guy do?"

  "He gave Shirlene some money, and she went off with him. Walking, that way.” She pointed. “Probably going to fuck in an alley.” Her nose wrinkled again. “I hate doing it that way."

  His brow furrowed. “How long ago?"

  "Fifteen minutes ago? I think."

  Not long. He looked around but didn't see her. She can't be far.

  "What's your name?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “Deena."

  Glad that he'd hit an ATM earlier, he pulled a hundred dollar bill out of his wallet and pressed it into her hand. “Thank you. Look, are you always out here? This is your spot?"

  "Yeah, usually."

  "Okay. Thank you again. Really."

  He was reluctant to leave her out here. She was too young for the world she'd put herself in, and he wanted to get her somewhere safe to sort out her life. Moira's maybe, or with one of the women in the pack. But he was so close after a year of uncertainty, and he couldn't let up on the search now. Deena, he hoped, would go home with the money he gave her, safe for the night. Another night, he'd come back.

  For now, he trotted up the street where the young hooker had indicated. No sign, as the street emptied and turned to closed, run-down shops. He didn't want to think that he'd missed her, or worse, that the girl had made a mistake. The first tip he'd had couldn't turn out to be little more than smoke. It would hurt too much.

  But then he heard the whimper as the sharp stabs of nervous instinct crawled over his skin. Soft, afraid, the sound of a woman too terrified to scream. Not Kayla, but that didn't matter. Noah canted his head to listen, strained to pinpoint the sound.

  There. A dark alley several yards away.

  The woman started pleading. “Just let me go. Just let me go. I won't tell no one. Just let me go,” she said over and over again. Worse, he could smell blood, death. Undeath.

  Old-style clothes. Weird. A vampire.

  He charged the remaining distance. With a skid, he arrived at the mouth of the alley. Only barely did he take in the whore that cowered in the corner, the one who begged for her life. Instead, he saw Kayla. Black shirt. Jeans. Dark blonde hair loose over her shoulders. Hand around the throat of a biter in a white shirt and black vest.

  She leaned close to her quarry, her face not even an inch away. Her lip curled in a snarl as she looked over the top of her sunglasses. While her lips moved, Noah couldn't hear what she said. The vampire did, though, and his eyes widened.

  Werewolf and prey heard Noah at the same time. Both turned to face the end of the alley. Her eyes glowed, two eerie, blue-violet points in the darkness.

  They glowed. Not reflected. The light came from within her eyes, which looked more wolven than human. Not the blue he knew from their time before, when the white wolf he loved ran next to him. Unnatural indigo. A shade that sent chills down his spine.

  As he stared, stunned by the uncanny light from her eyes, she shoved her glasses up her nose then turned back to the undead she held by the neck. “Where?"

  "N-Night Moves,” he gibbered. “Th-That's where they go when they w-want to have fun."

  Noah found his voice. “Kayla, what are you doing?"

  "Hello, Noah,” she said, voice even, gaze never leaving the vampire. “I'm just looking up some old friends now tha
t I'm back in town."

  The loyal pack member in him knew he should convince her to let the biter go. The rest of him wanted to help rattle the undead's fangs from his head. Torn, he settled for a middle course. “His coterie isn't going to be happy about this."

  She snorted. “There are a lot of things I'm not happy about. They can get over it."

  "I won't tell them!” the man offered helpfully. “This is just between us. You and me ... and the hooker, and your friend, but they won't say nothing."

  "You're right. You won't tell them.” Fur scurried down her arm, from her elbow to the now sharp claws at the end of her half changed hand. The talons closed like the snap of a jaw, dug deep into the vampire's throat, and ripped it out.

  Black ooze poured from the open wound. For a moment, the vampire looked stunned. Then he slid down the wall, covered in his own vital fluids. The whore screamed, the loud, strangled noise piercing the night.

  Kayla ignored the tacky spatter that covered her hand. As the undead fell, she knelt to retrieve several sharpened stakes that rested on the ground. With a smooth movement, she drove one into the biter's chest. His scream joined the woman's for the briefest instant then died, just as he did, a long-delayed end to an unnatural life.

  It was not the reunion Noah had hoped for. It looked more like the start of the war he had campaigned for.

  At last, she turned to face him, her hand human again and eyes shrouded by the glasses on her face. “What are you doing here?"

  "I came to find you. Moira called me, and I came...” He took a step forward. Despite what had just happened, he wanted to touch her, to feel that she was real.

  "I told her I didn't want to see you.” But it wasn't a dismissal. He could hear the conflict, the pain in her voice.

  Another step. “Why would you not want to see me? Kayla, it's me."

  She could have backed away, but she didn't. Instead, she looked at the body at her feet. “Why? Isn't that obvious? I don't want you involved in this. Go home. Forget you saw me. It'll be better for you that way."

  The meaning of her words was perfectly clear. I don't want to ruin your life. I've already done something against the rules, and I'm not finished yet.

  "I'm already involved. I always have been."

  "Go home, Noah."

  "Whatever happened to you that night happened to us both. I'm not leaving."

  Her fists clenched, released, clenched again, conflict written in every movement. While she fought with herself, he closed the distance between them, and before she could object, he wrapped her in his arms. She was stiff for only a heartbeat, and then she melted against him. He breathed in the smell of her, different from before but still her, still his mate.

  "We're in this together,” he murmured into her hair. “We always have been."

  "You don't know what you're saying.” But she held him tighter.

  After too short a time, he let her go to lock gazes with her. “I do. I love you."

  The corners of her eyes crinkled, and her brow furrowed with an obscure hurt he didn't understand. Not yet.

  "Don't say that now. If you can still say it later, after..."

  "After what?"

  She turned away from him to face the filthy alley. “We should leave."

  As different as her smell, this was not the Kayla he knew. She would never have turned away or shut him out so quickly. But then, the Noah she had known might have taken it to heart. Stung, he would have seen how she had changed, decided she didn't want him now. Would he have wondered if he wanted her now? Would he have questioned it?

  Yes. But then again, he'd changed, too. From cub to wolf. Follower to alpha.

  "First things first,” he said, resolved. In the shock of seeing her and the death of the vampire, he hadn't noticed how his muscles had tensed. Now he could feel the energy that had built in him. “Let me get the girl on her way. Can you get the body into that garbage bin?"

  "Yes.” She cocked her head and regarded him for a moment then bent to heft the body over her shoulder. Without her werewolf blood, she never could have done it. Even then, she would have struggled with a partial shift, something she had never mastered. But judging by her performance earlier, and the way she hauled the dead vampire up, she no longer had those problems.

  Once again, he wondered what had happened. “Shirlene? Hey,” he said, voice gentle but firm as he bent down to the panicked woman. “Let's get you out of here, huh? Time to go home."

  Her wide eyes said she didn't believe he'd just let her go. Still, she used the hand he offered to get to her feet.

  "Noah. Here."

  The woman shrieked and cowered, but Noah caught the black object Kayla tossed at him. A wallet. He understood. “There's money in here,” he said to the hooker. “Take it. Maybe it'll make up for a really shitty night."

  She wasn't stupid. She took the leather billfold on her way out of the alley, shoes loud against the ground as she ran.

  Behind him, Kayla grunted. The body hit the bottom of the empty can with a loud clang. “Do you have any matches?” she asked, wiping her hands on her jeans.

  Noah pulled out a disposable plastic lighter. “I always keep a lighter on me these days."

  "Why?"

  He sparked a flame and dropped it into the can, then quickly moved away. It took no time at all before hot, green-tinted flames shot up from the metal bin. The foul reek of burned vampire had never smelled better. “For that."

  The reflection of the fire danced off the lenses of her glasses. “I thought you didn't want a war."

  "I said they wouldn't be happy about you killing him. The war's something else. Come on."

  Few girls remained on the streets. Shirlene had warned them, or he hoped that she had, to get the hell out of the area because some crazy shit had happened up the street. It's not safe out here, he thought to them as he and Kayla blew through. Some johns want more than what's between your legs.

  "Hey, you found her!” Gold Chain still waited by Noah's truck, although the rest of the gang had dispersed. “See, told you. Shirt's tight on her titties."

  "Glad you like them,” Kayla told him as she stowed her stakes behind the seat then hopped in the passenger door.

  Noah started the engine.

  "You've changed,” she said as he navigated into the light flow of traffic.

  "I've had to.” So close to the full moon, the tense energy inside him didn't want to disperse. Adrenaline fed it until he was coiled, hyper-aware.

  She flinched at the high beams of an oncoming car. “Moira said that things had been different."

  He snorted. “Moira doesn't know the half of it. She's not as close in the loop as she thinks she is."

  "What are you talking about?” Startled, she looked over to him. For a moment, he caught a glimpse of that eerie glow behind her eyes.

  "She's on the fence, Kayla, and no one trusts someone who doesn't swear to either side.” He took a deep breath. In the close quarters of the truck's cab, the scent of her, wild, feral, dangerous, was inescapable. It sent an electric charge through him, and his cock swelled against his jeans. Too much excitement, too long without her. He couldn't keep it down.

  "I don't understand."

  "Look at it this way. You know whose side a vampire is on, or a member of the pack. You know, on an instinctual level, what's going on in their head. Moira's an enigma, and neither side can predict her. So they give her a minimum of information to placate her then keep the rest of their cards close to their chest."

  It startled her, he could tell. Of all the political shifts in the paranormal circles, that was perhaps the largest. “So what's the real story? She said the alpha and Pirelli are holding things together."

  "Mm.” He changed lanes. “More Pirelli than Peter. We were close to an open break in the truce before it. I'd like to take all the blame for that, because I was pushing hard. They'd taken you, and I was either going to find you or kill every last one of them.

  "But Regina screamed
louder than I did for it. Two nights after the attack, she was ready to storm Pirelli's estate and rip out his throat. Peter was wearing down and finally decided to ask the vampire lord directly. Otherwise, he wasn't going to be able to keep his pack in line."

  The muscles in Kayla's jaw rippled as she clenched her teeth. Venom laced every word. “That doesn't surprise me. What else?"

  "The pack is falling apart.” Near their apartment, the streets were quiet. “Peter holds power on respect held over from his earlier days. But his control is slipping. Last month, two people didn't go over during the alpha shift."

  "What did he do?"

  "Nothing. It was Regina who told them to change forms."

  He didn't mention that he'd been one of the two, and that he had refused to shift. Jaw locked, he'd fought his wolf for dominance until they moved out for the hunt. “No one wants to come out and admit that he's failing us, though. Everyone's complacent, afraid to rock the boat."

  "Everyone except you."

  "Moira told you, huh?” He chuckled and turned into the parking lot. “No, I'm not afraid to rock the boat. When I'm done, it'll rock a whole lot harder."

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  Chapter Five

  It was just as she remembered. The pictures on the walls, her sock still under the coffee table. As she stepped into the apartment, it was just like stepping back into a long-dead past. She didn't know if she loved or hated him for it.

  "Will you tell me what happened now?” he asked as the door clicked shut behind him.

  How would it hurt to tell this story? She'd never recounted it. Not to anyone. There was no desire in her to relive that night, or the months after it, but it wasn't the potential pain that worried her. It was the chance that, if she said the words, she'd lance the festering wound inside her, the one that drove her toward revenge.

  She wanted that pain. She needed it. If she told him, she would cry, and if she cried, the built-up agony, the rage against those who had thrown her into the darkness, would drain away. Then she would have nothing left to fill her.