I took a deep breath, blew it out slowly. My limbs were shaking and weak, as if I’d been winded by several hard blows. In many respects, that’s exactly what had happened—only the blows were empathic rather than physical.
Odd that it only ever seemed to happen with
this
vampire.
“What happened?”
“Nothing much.”
His voice was distant, his gaze, though it was on me, vacant—as if he wasn’t actually seeing me or our surroundings, but something else altogether. Something internal.
“What do you mean, nothing much? Who was in the alley? What did he want?”
“Nothing that concerns you.”
I crossed my arms and glared at him. “So we’re back to that old bullshit, are we?”
He blinked at that, and life came back into his dark gaze. “This is a different type of bullshit, believe me.”
“I’d love to, Quinn, but it seems that any time I ask a hard question—like, where were you born or what the hell was in that alley—you revert to the same old song. Well, it’s not good enough. Not if you want to be something more than just another fuck.”
His gaze hardened. “There are some things I cannot explain. And there are promises made long ago that bind me—much as I might not want them to.”
“Meaning?”
“I am forbidden to speak to you about who was in that alley, and what I now must do.”
“Why? I thought the only people who could order you to do anything were vamps older than you. And whatever it was in that alley, it wasn’t a vampire.” Or anything else that I recognized.
“No.” He hesitated, stepping forward and reaching for me with one hand.
I jerked away from his touch and stepped back. “I’ve only ever asked one thing of you—the truth. And it seems to me you are as unwilling as ever to give me that.”
“This is
not
my story to tell.” His soft voice was as angry as I’d ever heard it. “Nor have I the time to stand here and argue. I must go.”
“Then let’s go.”
“Not you. Me. You can take the other car—”
“Like hell I will!”
He sighed. “Riley, please. I don’t want to force you to do what is sensible.”
“What is sensible is for you to explain what the hell is going on!”
He hesitated, then said, “Those things in the car were not human.”
“Well, I gathered that. Humans don’t up and disappear into thin air.”
“They weren’t nonhuman, either.”
“Then what the hell were they?” I mean, what else was there when it came to humanoid entities?
“Demon.”
I blinked, not sure I heard him right. “What?”
“Demons. Creatures from the vaults of hell itself.” He paused. “These particular demons were low-class demons—good for following and harassing, but not much good for killing anything more than humans. I’m actually surprised they were sent after me at all.”
I stared at him, wondering if whoever it was in the alley had hit him over the head and loosened a brain cell or two. “Demons don’t exist.”
“As angels don’t exist?” He snorted softly. “You have lived a sheltered life, indeed.”
I stepped forward and touched his arm. “I think you’d better sit—”
He shook my touch off irritably. “I’m not crazy. Demons are creatures of mist and malevolence, and if two are loose in this city, we need to know who summoned them, and why.”
“So let’s get our asses into the car and start investigating.”
“I will. You will be going home.”
“I believe we have been through this already. The answer is still no.”
He stared at me for several seconds, and a chill ran over my skin. There was suddenly something very old, very deadly, and decidedly
unhuman
—in a way that went far beyond being a vampire—in his eyes. Something I’d never seen before.
“Don’t make me force you, Riley.”
I opened my mouth to refute the statement then closed it again. What was the use of saying no way, when it was more than probable he
could
force me? We’d shared blood once, and if there was one thing I was certain about, it was the fact that it would have had more consequences than he’d actually mentioned. And I really didn’t want to know if it was possible for him to make me obey him completely or not.
Because once I knew for sure, that would be the end of us. I couldn’t be with a man who could—would—use psychic force against me in a relationship.
“Fine.” I waved a hand irritably at the car. “Piss off and don’t bother coming back for a while.”
“Riley, please, just trust me that I have no choice in this.” He reached for me again, and again I stepped away.
“Don’t,” I said. “Because right now, I’m angry with you and I may say something we’d both regret. Just go.”
He did.
Without a backward glance.
I, however, swore like an old sea dog as I watched the limousine’s taillights disappear into the night. Part of me hadn’t actually believed he’d go.
One of these days, that stupid, romantic part of me was going to learn
not
to get her hopes up. Either that, or I was going to have to stop saying things if I didn’t actually mean them.
I stomped a foot, then spun around and glared at the alley. I still couldn’t see or feel anything in that shadowed, misty darkness—and yet, something was there. Something that teased the outer reaches of my senses, like an itch I couldn’t quite scratch. I needed to investigate. Whatever it was Quinn had seen and spoken to was still in there. And while he might have believed whatever it was wouldn’t speak to me, could I actually trust he’d been truthful in that?
What if it was just another ploy to keep me in the dark?
What if it was a ploy to keep me safe?
I shivered and rubbed my arms again. I was getting soaked by the softly falling rain, but at least my sweater was wool. The majority of me was warm, even if wet.
But it wasn’t the rain or the wetness that caused the shiver. It was the thought of facing whatever was in that alley.
Because it was definitely waiting for something or someone.
And considering I was the only something or someone in the near vicinity, that meant, by default, it was probably waiting for me.
I lightly chewed on my bottom lip, contemplating my options, then forced my feet forward. Fortune favored the brave—and the very foolish. The latter classification had fit me often enough in the past and probably would here, as well. But it didn’t matter, because I just had to find out what—or who—Quinn had been talking to.
The closer I got to that alley, the colder I became. It wasn’t the night, nor was it the fact that I was soaked. This particular coldness came from deep inside, from the place where the very essence of my wolf soul rested, and it flooded outward, making my steps more and more reluctant.
Whatever hid in the darkness, the wolf feared it. And if that instinctive part of me did, then I certainly should.
As I neared the alley’s entrance, mist began to gather in the darkness, stretching ethereal fingers in my direction. Without thought, I stepped back. Quickly, and in fear—though of what, I have no idea.
The mist hesitated, then began to recoil.
I drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. This was no way to get answers. I had to meet the mist, had to go on.
Had to.
I licked my lips, wondering why the hell I was so afraid of something as harmless as
mist,
and stepped forward. Again the ethereal fingers formed and reached for me. This time, I ignored them and kept on moving. Their touch was almost exploratory and yet, at the same time, pressing, as if they intended to halt me gently. I’d expected the mist to be cold and clammy and, in some ways, it was. Yet it burned against my skin, like the sting of lemon juice against a cut. And the farther I tried to go into the alley, the fiercer that sting got.
It was that, more than fear, that stopped me.
And still my senses could feel nothing, see nothing. There was just that itch, telling me it was there, that it was watching.
“What are you?”
My voice came out croaky, and the mist in front of me stirred gently.
No answer came from the darkness of the alleyway beyond the mist. I tried again. “I know you’re there. I can feel your presence.”
The little wolf has courage.
The voice was male, and came from everywhere and yet nowhere. It hung on the misty air and yet reverberated through my mind. Was gentle, and yet, at the same time, harsh.
Weird, to say the least.
“The little wolf is scared shitless, but she also wants answers.” I could see no harm in admitting the truth in this instance. Besides, something told me anything else could be dangerous.
Amusement rolled across the night, in much the same manner as the words had.
I can see why he likes you.
“Quinn? Oh yeah, he just loves ordering me around, and trying to make me do things I don’t want to do.”
We were protectors born, little wolf, and that instinct is hard to shake.
I raised an eyebrow. “Meaning Quinn is somehow connected to you? In more than an employer-employee mode, that is?”
That is a question I am not free to answer.
“Why not?”
Because you do not ask the right person.
“Well, it’s next to useless to ask Quinn. He never tells me anything.”
Vampires live a long time, and there is fun to be had in taking time to unravel the mystery.
“Sorry, but patience has never been a virtue of mine.”
Again the amusement swam around me, but this time it was accompanied by an odd sense of approval. Why was anyone’s guess.
“Okay, so if my first question was the wrong one, will you then tell me who you are?” What, who, where—the basic questions of interrogation, as defined by the Directorate. Of course, they rarely asked so politely.
The presence seemed to consider my question for an extremely long time. Or maybe wariness and fear just made it seem that way.
I am a high priest of the Aedh.
“I’ve never heard of them.”
I am not surprised. Few of this time would know us.
This time? As in, this century? Or longer? Something in the way he said it suggested the latter rather than the former. “And you came here to talk to Quinn?”
Talk? No.
“Then what?”
That is for him to explain if he wishes.
“He says he was ordered not to explain.”
Given the Aedh died long ago, that rule no longer binds. Unless he wishes it.
Why I was surprised by that I had no idea. After all, Quinn had a long habit of keeping his secrets—and using fair means or foul to avoid answering questions about his past. “How could this Aedh of yours have died out if you’re a high priest of it?”
Again the amusement swirled, this time tinged with sadness.
I am all that is left.
“Then what is Quinn’s connection to you and the Aedh?”
He once trained to be one of us.
Quinn had once trained to be a priest? The mere thought made me smile—and yet, it certainly explained his somewhat old-fashioned views when it came to sex. “And you were his priest teacher?”
No, I was not.
“Then what’s your connection to him?”
Once again, that is for him to explain.
The presence paused.
Do not get too curious in this matter, little wolf. You may find you do not like the answers.
Not liking answers hadn’t ever stopped me from asking the questions. And I had an odd feeling that he knew that—and that he was deliberately trying to provoke me into action I might later regret. “Did you tell him about the things in the car? Order him to hunt down the person who summoned them?”
I inform. I can no longer order.
So why was Quinn so angry? Why did he seem to think he’d been ordered? “And were the things in the car really demons, as he said?”
I take it from your tone you do not believe in demons?
“Frankly, no.”
He laughed, and it was suddenly such a creepy sound I backed up a step before I realized what I was doing and stopped. Up until that moment, I’d felt no real malevolence from whatever it was hiding in the mist, but right then it seemed like I was teetering on the precipice of an endless pit. And that he was behind me, ready to push.
You will believe in demons by the end of all this, little wolf. And you will learn that not all demons are creatures of myth or magic, but rather of flesh and blood.
And with that, he and the mist were gone.
As quickly and as suddenly as the things in the car.
With the mist and the presence gone, awareness of the night and the weather returned full force. The rain was falling harder, meaning I was soaked to the skin and shivering like a newborn pup. Though I wasn’t entirely sure the shivering was a result of the cold.