Dark Sky Full of Stars (The Red and Black #1)

Chapter 1

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll choke you out and leave you behind this dumpster.”

His arm is around my neck, almost suffocating me.

I feel around beside me for something to hit him with, but it’s so narrow back here, I can hardly move.

In the only rational moment of the evening, I press the panic button on my bracelet.

I sit still and wait for William and the cavalry to arrive.

There’s a lot of shouting in the lobby, and outside. It’s getting louder.

Mischa’s arm loosens a little. He smells like cinnamon. He always smells like cinnamon, and something else sweet and warm and comforting. Aniseed?

It all happened so fast. I was walking in front of him.

We were going down the stairwell of the hotel.

We reached the ground floor. I was looking at the carpet, and he must have been looking over my shoulder to the door in the main foyer.

Then he puts his hand over my mouth, grabs me from behind, and lifts me up.

I’m over six foot so that’s an achievement.

I jerk up in surprise and whack the back of my head on his temple and we crash into the wall.

He lets go of my mouth but squeezes my waist harder and charges through to the parking garage.

For a second I look back and see the men in the lobby, but before I can think about it he has me in a sleeper hold, dragging me into the shadows like a fucking serial killer.

Now he’s looking through the narrow slot to the view of the door and breathing hot air on my earlobe.

I hear that familiar beep-beep-beep coming closer.

William bursts through the door and is in full King Kong mode.

His green eyes are black holes in the stark garage light.

He’s in his boxers, shirtless, and looks murderous.

His sandy brown hair is wet from the shower.

The grip around my neck tightens a little, maybe as a warning to stay still, or maybe automatically. I tense again.

“Mischa you motherfucker!” he yells. “You’re fucking dead!” He listens for us and then screams “BEE!”

It’s raw and guttural, like an animal in pain. He’s a raging bull again, pacing between the cars.

My heart sinks. He’s unraveling again, and so am I.

Mischa lets out a tiny noise that almost sounds like “Huh?”

It is so quiet, but William hears it and pivots to our corner. As he walks our way, the commotion outside bursts in. Ten drunk guys have broken off from the rabble on the street to answer William’s war cry.

They fan out. One has a knife and three others are packing heavy blunt-force trauma. Poor bastards. That won’t save them for what’s coming. They’re about to be hit by a comet.

William puffs up like one of those kangaroos around here that look like they’ve been on steroids. My hands go to Mischa’s big warm forearms and I lean back into him, like he’s a therapist’s couch.

We watch as William neutralizes each threat one by one.

Knife goes first by a knockout, headbutts baseball bat next and uses it to hit crowbar and.

.. is that a fucking copper pipe? God is all of this country insane?

One last roundhouse kick and all ten are flat on the concrete, and William growls like a monster.

Mischa makes an involuntary, but thankfully silent giggle that I feel against my back.

“God damn, can you do that too?” he whispers. “That’s hot.”

I bristle at the comment, and push him off me.

He doesn’t fight it, because William is coming our way, scraping the copper pipe along the ground.

I crawl out and pop to my feet. William and I are facing each other like two sides of a mirror.

Except my reflection has blood splattered on his face, and he's panting with his whole body.

“I’m here,” I say. “I’m okay.”

He is not coming down from his psychotic energy. I can feel myself shaking like a leaf. Our bodyguards Hayden and Kane come in and tell him the lobby is contained.

“Upstairs!” William bellows.

I run back to the door and William marches behind me. I don’t dare cast a glance back to the dumpster.

I knew tonight would end in blood. Again. I didn’t even make it out of the hotel this time.