Because the Night

Chapter Nine

I wake up in Lucas’s bed again. He’s lying on his back with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. No idea what deep thoughts he might be thinking. I must have fallen asleep in the living room, listening to Henry and Benedict telling stories about the past. Despite my repeated requests for a room of my own, Lucas apparently carried me into his. Guess he still doesn’t trust me not to run amok. Which is ridiculous. Henry did delight in telling me that the vase I almost broke last night was a first-edition Wedgewood from 1793 worth approximately half a million. But I wouldn’t have almost broken it if Lucas hadn’t been chasing me in the first place, so there.

My funeral must be any day now. I didn’t ask when they were burying fake me from the fire. They might just be putting the ashes in an urn. I don’t have any particular preference. Such a sad and horrible time for my family and friends. My heart hurts just thinking about it. No one likes losing a loved one or being reminded of their mortality. I wish I had the photos from my cell and apartment. Anything familiar would be nice. Like my favorite tee or the few pieces of jewelry I treasured. Guess the antique silver locket Mom gave me for my twenty-fifth birthday would be out, even if it hadn’t been destroyed by the flames.

Grief is strange. And I am mourning my old life. It’s the little things. Like walking to the café down the street on a Sunday morning or receiving random text messages from friends. All of that life is just waiting a short drive from here. But it might as well be on the moon. At least I can still remember Mom’s voice and Dad’s laugh. Or the way Nicole would roll her eyes when I tried to tell a joke and mangled yet another punchline. And I play those cherished memories over and over inside my mind.

Meanwhile, here I am living in the vampire equivalent of a hobbit hole in the Hollywood Hills with a bunch of immortal male models. The places life takes you. Or death, for that matter.

“I thought about having you stay here at the house tonight,” Lucas says out of nowhere. “But it’s not the right choice. You need to see how the family works together. You also need to be seen to be fitting in and taking your place.”

“You’re worried people will see me as a weakness.”

Nothing from him.

I roll onto my side, all the better to stare at him. Nothing happens. I screw up my face and concentrate harder.

“Are you trying to read my mind?” he asks with a faint smile.

“It’s not working.”

“Just ask me what I’m thinking. It might be faster.”

“Alright,” I say. “What are you thinking?”

“That the situation in L.A. is more complex than I like. But I still consider this city my home. For now, at least.” He jerks his chin at the bedside table. “Drink your blood bags. As soon as the sun goes down, we’re leaving.”

I sit up and stop. Because there on the bedside table, along with my evening blood bags, is an old, red velvet box. “What’s this?”

“Just something I found lying around. Thought you might like it.”

Inside are two diamond-stud earrings. And they are not small. “Holy shit. That is not nothing. Not even remotely.”

“Don’t make a big deal out of it. I picked them up in Belgium a while back.” His dark brows draw close together. “It’s good to diversify investments. Not to have everything tied up in property.”

“They’re beautiful. The first-edition Austen and now these…I’m beginning to think somewhere down in the depths of your dark and creepy heart, you actually like me, Lucas.”

He grunts. “Hurry up and drink your blood. We don’t have all night.”

I set aside the expensive jewelry and start sucking down the red stuff. “Where are we going and how dangerous is it going to be?”

“It should be straightforward. Archie owned The Boulevard. His family is in disarray so we’re claiming the building, along with his seat on the board.”

“What happens to any of his people who are still there?”

“We won’t hurt anyone who doesn’t try to hurt us first. Any of his people still in the building can resettle elsewhere. He’s sure to have owned other properties we can use for that purpose.” Lucas looks me over. “Skye, do you know how to fire a gun or defend yourself?”

“I hate guns. But I did take a self-defense course when I was eighteen.”

“Hang back and keep your head down. Do exactly as you’re told at all times,” he says. “Am I understood?”

“You’re worried about how it’s going to go down tonight.” I don’t need to read minds to know this much. It’s obvious from his body language and tone of voice.

“Everything will be fine.” And that’s all he says.

Benedict drives a bulletproof Mercedes G Wagon. It is every bit as big and built as the man himself. He takes his job as guard seriously. His gaze is constantly on the move once we leave the house, watching for attack. The amount of weaponry he and Henry removed from the armory was wild. However, they wouldn’t even let me have a dagger. Not even a reasonably dull letter opener. Which is insulting. I’m wearing another set of black jeans, boots, and a tee. Much the same as the others. And the way Lucas pulls off jeans and a V-neck tee is a sight to be seen. Modern, casual clothing suits him just fine. I ignore Benedict’s quiet suggestion to wipe the drool off my chin. One of us has to behave like an adult.

One of these nights I’m going to stop being so mesmerized by Lucas. Any time now. That would be nice.

The diamond earrings are still sitting safe and sound on the bedside table. I don’t even know what to think about the gift giving. Nothing about this situation makes sense. And Lucas’s reasons for doing things tend to be sketchy at best.

When we pull up outside The Boulevard Hotel, all is eerily quiet. No sign of guests, staff, or others. But the doors are open, and the lights are on. A woman wearing a white pantsuit and heels walks out to greet us. She has brown skin and shoulder-length dark hair with strands of silver. Her chunky, sapphire and white-gold necklace is stunning. So, too, is the matching dagger she carries on her hip. There’s nothing low key about this woman. She’s living forever in high style.

“You just couldn’t stay home and leave this to me, could you?” she asks in a husky voice with an accent. “Why am I not surprised?”

Lucas gives her a warm smile. “Leilah.”

“Hello, old man. It’s been a while.” She nods to each of us in turn, giving me a curious glance. “Welcome to the family, sister.”

“Thank you.”

“Come on then, let’s get this done,” she says, turning back to the building. “My people have already started on the belowground levels. Any stragglers we find will be held down in the bar for questioning. Why don’t we work our way up?”

We take the stairs. The hotel has sixty rooms and suites, and all of them need to be cleared. Along with the ballroom, restaurant, and so on. The same air of neglect is evident on other levels. Stale air and marks on the walls. Worn carpet and battered furniture. I would give this place two stars at most. As we were told, Archie’s family seems to have fled. The hotel seems empty. Almost.

My job is to listen at the door for any signs of life, then throw it open and stay back while Henry rushes through the room like a hurricane. Once the room has been declared clear, we move on to the next. Lucas isn’t a fan of me doing even this much. Though, I get the distinct feeling my job has been invented just for me. That Henry wanted me to feel included. But whatever. I am fine with letting the others go hard core.

Being given safe duties does nothing to stop me from being strung out from head to toe. And I break a good three door handles before getting myself under control. All while Lucas gives me side-eye. So not helpful.

We find a terrified vampire hiding on the third floor. The word Woodsman surrounded by fear appears inside my head. When Lucas makes no move to harm them, they seem confused. Henry shepherds them down to the bar in the basement. Nothing else happens on the third floor.

But one hiding on the fourth floor opens fire on us with some sort of pistol. The pop of the silenced gun is horrible to hear. All too reminiscent of being fired at outside the nightclub.

Lucas is covering me and pushing me down when the first bullet flies over my head. One moment I am standing, the next I’ve face-planted on the floor. Which gets me out of the line of fire, thank fuck.

Then Lucas appears farther down the hallway with another heart in his fist a moment later. There wasn’t even time for me to react. Benedict just offers me a hand and sighs as if he’s upset that he hasn’t gotten to rip out anyone’s internal organs. He might be the guard, but telling Lucas to hang back and keep safe would be a waste of time. The vampire does what he wants.

Benedict inspects the splintered wall. “Wooden bullets again.”

Lucas’s gaze is searing. The heart turns to ash in his hand as he strides back down the hallway. “Skye, were you hit?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“There’s no scent of blood,” says Benedict. “Not on her.”

Lucas’s jawline is set in harsh lines. Like the man is internalizing a whole lot of anger.

It’s a struggle to keep my expression cool and calm. Because if he hadn’t been by my side, I would be dead. Deader. However, this situation is already intense, and the last thing anyone needs is me freaking out just because it’s the second time someone has tried to kill me since I became a blood sucker.

We move carefully through the rest of the floor without any further mishap. Out of the seven floors aboveground, only the top two seem to have been used by Archie’s family. As evidenced by the covered windows and the scattered and abandoned clothes and other possessions. It looks like they left in a hurry. Guess the other five levels were reserved for actual guests. Imagine what the reviews for this place would be like. Who would want to stay at a rundown hotel where you were as likely to wind up on the menu as you were to get a good night’s sleep?

While Henry has chosen not to turn anyone, Leilah has apparently made herself an undead army. Over a dozen of her people swarm the building. Guess they count as extended family now. They range in race, age, and gender. Some wear tactical gear, while others are in street clothes like us. Each and every one of them seem to know exactly what they’re doing. The way they watch Lucas with a mixture of awe and wariness is interesting. It’s like he’s a god walking among mortals.

We encounter more problems on the sixth floor. There’s a loud bang, then the walls shake. Dust and paint flakes rain down on all of us. And one of Leilah’s people is immediately reduced to ash by the explosion.

“Dammit, Fionn. You foolish boy. Always fucking rushing,” hisses Leilah. No one says anything as she takes a moment to collect herself before announcing, “Be careful. They’ve set breach charges. Where’s Margaret?”

“Coming.” A striking woman with white skin and gray hair joins us in the hallway. She’s older than Leilah and has an upper-class English accent. “Excuse me.”

“She’s human,” I whisper.

Lucas turns to me. “Skye, have you got yourself under control?”

Her blood is calling to me. The familiar whooshing sound of it rushing through her veins and the steady beat of her heart are like a symphony. And I am more than aware of it, being so close. But there are none of the shakes and watering-mouth business. “Yes.”

“Margaret is Leilah’s paramour. She’s also a witch,” supplies Henry. “Biting her is not something I would suggest trying. A very good way to get yourself slapped down, sister.”

“When did that start?” asks Lucas.

“1969. They met at Woodstock. You know, that great concert I told you about outside New York where everyone was all free love and dropping acid?”

Lucas nods.

Safe to say I am no longer permitted to open any doors. Margaret mutters something and walks slowly forward with one hand raised. A faint clicking noise can be heard behind several of the doors lining the hallway as she passes. But nothing else goes boom. Thank goodness. She doesn’t look like your stereotypical witch. There’s no dramatic pointed hat or such. Just jeans and a flowing white top. A collection of silver chains and crystals hang around her neck. But it’s a chunk of clear quartz that she holds in her hand while moving forward and dealing with the explosive devices.

There’s an event space on the sixth floor. Guess it gave the guests a nice view of the city. And behind those large doors I can feel something. A lot of thoughts and feelings, and the dominant ones are anger and fear.

“There are people in there,” I say. “They’re angry and afraid.”

“That’s all you’re getting?” asks Lucas.

“Yeah.”

Leilah stares at me for a moment before flicking her wrist. Four of her people step forward and they’re all armed to the teeth. Guns and daggers and you name it. But then so are Henry and Benedict. Lucas is the only one who seems to prefer using his own two hands. Everyone else waits in silence to see what happens next.

“Throw aside your weapons and lie face down on the floor with your hands on your head,” yells Leilah. “Any creature not in this position when we enter will be destroyed. This is your only warning. You do not need to suffer the final death tonight.”

After a moment, she gives her people a nod. The four blur and enter the room. Next comes the sounds of gunfire and screaming. Shit. The whole situation makes my skin crawl. But I do my best to keep my thoughts and feelings from showing on my face. The silence that follows the violence feels almost as bad.

Leilah pulls a cell out of her jacket pocket and reads the screen. “Lucas, you’re wanted down in the basement bar. We can finish up here.”

He nods, puts a hand to the small of my back, and leads us toward the elevators. Benedict follows close behind. Henry never came back up after shepherding the vampire down to the speakeasy. And they’re not the only ones down there. A good fifteen members of Archie’s family are sitting at the tables with worried faces. They’re guarded by a couple of Leilah’s people.

Lucas walks past them and straight into the board meeting room at the back of the premises. It’s as dark and creepy as the other night. But this time, a vampire with white skin and short red hair wearing a Lakers tee is tied to one of the board members’ chairs—with a dagger sticking out of each of his thighs and another embedded in his stomach.

Ouch. Given how fast we heel, the skin and flesh must now be sticking to those blades. So much blood. But not human. I can definitely smell the difference. Body parts and various liquids must only turn to ash once the vampire in question is dead.

How the hell is this my life now?

“Father,” says Henry with a bright smile. “This is Josh. We were just playing a game with him, which we were all enjoying immensely, weren’t we?”

Another vampire leans against a nearby wall with a dagger in his hand. He’s tall with a lean, muscular build and shoulder-length, dark hair. There is dried blood and the lingering pink line of a healing cut on his arm. Along with a fading gray bruise on his jawline. While he has the same coloring as Lucas, he has a more disheveled air. There’s none of the slicked-back hair and freshly shaven face. This man is handsome in an unkempt way, and was also turned around the age of forty, at a guess.

“Nico, he cut you?” asks Lucas. “Have you slowed down since I’ve been asleep?”

The vampire smiles. “This one was Archie’s assassin. He has some skills. I found him in the bottom parking lot trying to escape. This place is riddled with tunnels and secret rooms.”

“How interesting. He was his assassin, and yet he chose not to come after me himself. Instead, sending someone to attempt a drive-by shooting.” Lucas wanders over to the bound man and pulls out one of the daggers. “Why is that, exactly?”

Josh’s eyes widen in pain, but his mouth stays shut.

Nico lets the knife in his hand fly. It finds its target in the captive’s shoulder, and Josh’s whole body jerks. “Honestly,” says Nico, “I think this asshole just lacked the courage to go after the Woodsman himself.”

Lucas glances at Henry, giving him the go ahead.

“Alrighty,” he says, sitting on the stately board table, which I highly doubt is allowed. “Here’s how this is going to go, Josh. We’ve been having fun playing up until now, but as you can see, Father has arrived. Therefore, it’s time to get down to business. Either you answer our questions or—”

“You’re going to kill me anyway,” groans Josh.

“I can’t believe you interrupted me. That is so fucking rude.” Henry flicks his blond hair back. I’ve never seen a courtier in action before, but this is interesting. “And, duh. You had a marksman fire on Father and his new favorite. Do you have any idea how long we’ve all been hoping he’d get himself a special someone? Centuries, dude. Centuries. And then you come along and try to kill her, too.”

Nothing from Josh.

Though, Lucas now has a muscle twitching in his jawline. Has to be from irritation. In a feat of supernatural strength, I, myself, manage to not smack Henry upside the head. And the way Nico is giving me the once-over with his cool gaze is unnecessary, and not particularly brotherly or comfortable.

“So, of course, we’re going to kill you,” continues Henry. “But it’s how you die that’s up for discussion.”

Josh does not look convinced.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. Our family assassin, Nicholas, is going to start cutting pieces off you. Fingers and toes and then limbs and so on. He’ll just sort of work his way inward. It’s his specialty. You’d be amazed how long he can keep you alive while dismembering you. And you will talk. Through it all. They all do eventually.”

Josh sneers. “I’m not even the real fucking threat to you people.”

“Is that so?” asks Henry. “Do tell.”

“If you don’t kill me, he will. He gave me the money to hire the shooter. I’m fucked either way without Archie to protect me.”

“Archie gave you the money?”

The man shakes his head and grimaces. “No.”

“Who gave you the money and will kill you, Josh?” asks Lucas.

“He’s been with the Russians for centuries. Who do you think whispered in Lev’s ear about how L.A. would be the perfect choice for a new hunting ground?” asks Josh. “None of the families here knew how to work together before Lev tried to take over. The city was chaos. Just ready and waiting for them to seize control. But it was all really a cover for him to fuck with you and yours.”

“We need a name, Josh,” says Henry.

Josh spits a gob of blood at my feet. The way the asshole then grins at me is gross…remnants of crimson covering his lips and teeth. “And he wants her bad. You should hear him. He saw the security footage from the other night when you killed Archie. I don’t know what it is about her, but the sight of that one at your side sent him into a frenzy.”

My whole body goes rigid.

“Who?” asks Lucas in a deadly tone.

“Your brother.” Josh laughs maniacally. “You fucked up, Woodsman. He’s still alive.”