Waiting for Darkness (Blood Martyr) Read online

  “Well, it’s time for me to get back to work,” I said, genuinely sorry I had to go.

  Next to me, Jamison discreetly hiccupped.

  Hiccupped.

  Jamison. The person who never drank more than a thimbleful at any given time.

  “Hey, wait, Tanith. I got something to say.” His gaze roved over me.

  With a start, I realized that he was drunk.

  Not just drunk. He was smashed.

  “Jamison.” My voice came out a bit sharper than intended, but my nerves couldn’t take any more and with good cause. A drunk witch was as unpredictable as lottery numbers.

  He slumped against the kitchen counter, eyes downcast. “Never mind. You wouldn’t understand me.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  He shook his head. “Whatever. Go. Go out and bring in some kid so that you can feed. You lost your meal for the night because of me, so I apologize.”

  He bowed low and nearly fell over.

  Drunk didn’t even begin to describe the state he was in.

  As much as I wanted to help him, I couldn’t do it. He was putting out male pheromones like there was no tomorrow, and I didn’t think I’d be able to keep my fangs in my mouth where they belonged. Drunks were always the best to drink from. They were so giving, so willing, so…sweet.

  Liquor was the cherry on top of the proverbial ice cream sundae.

  But Jamison was off limits.

  I turned away from him. It didn’t help much. I still smelled the redwood scent, still heard his beating heart.

  Damn it.

  “Jamison, you need to leave,” I said quietly, trying not to sound as though I wanted to drain him dry. And I really wanted to.

  A vamp doesn’t do that to their friends. They can’t do it.

  Maybe it was one of the unspoken rules that are more felt than told, but once you start doing that, you’re no longer…you. You become a monster.

  And, despite my past, I no longer wanted to be a monster.

  Not anymore.

  “Why? I thought I’d stay until you brought your kiddie toy, maybe watch until you get tired of him, and then we can laugh about it,” he slurred.

  “Right, because that’s not creepy at all.”

  I tried to get as far from him as I could. Anything to stop hearing the way his heartbeat. Anything to stop imagining what his blood would taste like. Humans think all blood tastes the same, but they’re wrong.

  “In fact, I think I’m going to settle myself right here and nap while you go and snag your man candy,” he said.

  I heard the barely audible crackle of new leather. He settled himself on my sofa, which meant he was not in any hurry to leave.

  Fuck.

  All I had to do was walk out, get my much-needed salvation at my club, and then spend the rest of the night at a hotel. Tomorrow, everything would be okay. If I was lucky, he’d sleep this off and wake up not remembering a damn thing.

  “Yeah, you do that.” I turned away from the window and kept my gaze on the door as if it was a speck of light in a tunnel of eternal darkness. I walked toward it, making sure to never glance in Jamison’s direction. “I’m going to the club, so you just wait here until I get back, all right?”

  Of course I had no intention of coming back until the next day, but he didn’t need to know that, did he?

  “Wait.”

  His hand darted out and wrapped around my wrist.

  I almost swallowed my own tongue.

  I stared straight ahead and tried to stay calm. “You’re keeping me from my meal, Jamison. You better have a good reason for that.”

  His fingers caressed the underside of my wrist.

  Did he know what he was doing?

  “Stop that. Stop that right now,” I spat through clenched teeth.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re drunk and not thinking clearly.”

  I tried to shake him off but it was like trying to shake off a strand of wet hair from an equally wet wrist. Damn near impossible.

  “Hmm. That’s funny.” He stood up, and I was forced to stare at my nose so my eyes wouldn’t focus on the object my body wanted the most.

  “What’s so funny?”

  As long as I kept him talking, everything was okay. In this case, words were better than actions.

  “Because, dear Tanith, for the first time in my life, I believe I am thinking clearly. I can’t remember the last time I felt so…illuminated.” He laughed and, at that moment, I thought it would be safe for me to finally look him in the eyes. But there was something far more serious than amusement in those bright orbs.

  He had beautiful eyes. To give credit where it was due, he was exquisite everywhere, but it was the colors that made people stare as if they couldn’t believe their eyes.

  His right eye was a very dark green. Most people thought it was black until he came into the light, and that’s when jaws started dropping. His right eye would have caused quite a stir on its own, but his left one created even more of a sensation. The left eye was pale amber, a cross between dark yellow and light brown. Sometimes people called him Jewel Eyes, malachite as his right one, and amber as his left. The doctors said that the incredibly odd coloring was called heterochromic irises.

  I just called them a miracle.

  Beyond that, his facial structure and body build were just icing on the very spectacular cake that was Jamison Bell. He had the coloring only a few people could pull off; a sort of milky white with just a hint of gold that created a powerful contrast with his bright eyes. It wasn’t that he was colorless, because saying that was like saying Leonardo Da Vinci was just a painter. Some sort of light seemed to shine outward from his body; it gave his skin a luminance hard to ignore. With the wide shoulders and the incredibly narrow hips of professional runners, I was hard pressed to remember anyone more attractive.

  His eyes drew me in, and I very nearly lost myself in their fathomless depths.

  “What’s wrong, Tanith? Not feeling well? Perhaps you should have a bit of a lie-down. You know, I don’t feel so hot myself. How about if I lie down with you…?”

  He took a step forward, casting me in his shadow. I’m a little taller than average for a woman, five-seven, but he loomed over me by almost half a foot.

  Had he always been this big, this…overwhelming?

  Jamison no longer seemed so harmless, and it scared me.

  It was the fright, the insecurity that made my hands reach out for something, anything that could keep me upright. My hands finally encountered something. Not the suppleness of the leather sofa, but the warmth and strength of Jamison’s large hands.

  “Please. You need to leave, Jamison. You need to leave before…before I do something that we’ll both regret.”

  Before I did something that could never be repaired.

  All of the muscles in my body jumped, strained against their bones. I wanted to press myself to him, but at the same time, I wanted to shove him away and run until this crippling need left me.

  “What if I don’t want to leave?”

  He pulled me so close that only a few inches separated us. Warmth radiated from his body. I could almost feel his blood coating my tongue, sliding down my throat like the best ’83 Riesling, feel the way it rolled down to my stomach and through my veins, warming me like fire.

  But, he was my friend.

  You don’t drink your friend’s blood.

  You can’t drink your friend’s blood.

  If only things were as simple as that.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “If only love and lust could be so easily distinguished! But alas, they are not,

  and most confuse one for the other. Poor, poor, poor Love. Bad, bad, bad Lust.”

  “Let go,” I whispered, afraid of making any sudden movements. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

  He leaned in close, his malachite and amber eyes boring into me, looking into every black spot in my heart.

  “I’m onl
y holding you,” he said. “So I’m not good enough for you, is that it? You’d rather fuck a complete stranger than someone who’s been around for you for the past five years? You tell me I’m beautiful, that there’s no one else like me. You say I can have any woman I want. So, why can’t I have you?” He jerked me close. “You lied, Tanith.”

  “I didn’t lie. Why would I lie about such things?”

  I placed my hands on his chest, tried to push away, but it was no use. My hands would not listen to my head’s commands. I could’ve rammed him through a wall, but I wanted him more than I thought possible.

  Him? Did I want him? Or did I want his blood?

  “You lied about me getting to have any woman that I wanted.”

  “You dated Melissa for over three years, Jamison. You must have felt something for her. You said you loved her.” My voice trembled. I hated it.

  “No. She wasn’t enough. She wasn’t the person I prayed for. I thought I’d never be able to get the woman I wanted. I settled for her because she looked the most similar. But it wasn’t enough.” His grip strengthened, and once again, I was reminded vampires and werewolves weren’t the only things that made things go bump in the night. Witches, although they weren’t as physically strong as other races, still packed a punch and everyone tended to avoid them when possible. Except for the faerie race, witches were unrivaled when it came to magic. Through supernatural powers, they could be very strong. And no one messed with magic. After all, you can avoid a punch being thrown in your direction, but the same can’t be said for a hex.

  “Take me.” His voice was harsh, jagged. “Use me. Make me forget.” At his words, my canines elongated, and I wrenched away from him. I couldn’t let him see how close I was to giving in to his plea.

  But he was my friend.

  He was my best friend.

  The day I took blood from my friend would be the day I would lose my hard-won vestiges of humanity.

  “No. Goddamn it all to hell, I said no!”

  Jamison backed away, and his jewel eyes grew wide, staring at me with an emotion so strong like he physically smacked me.

  “Fine. If that’s how you feel, then there’s nothing more I can do.”

  “Wait. Jamison. Please. Hear me out!”

  He took a step away from me and nodded curtly. “Good night.”

  Back rigid, he strode out of the door. I knew I should have done something, anything. I should have gone after him, but I couldn’t. The blood lust boiled within me. I closed my eyes; regret filled me that I ever allowed Jamison the wine.

  If he wasn’t so drunk….

  “My word. Someone certainly looks like they’ll be needing their comfort blanket tonight.”

  A slim form held the door open, and I managed to stifle a groan. On normal days, I could handle this person just fine, but on nights like this, I really needed to be alone. Someone like Cale Black was enough to make me want to pitch him through the nearest window.

  Or me. I wasn’t that picky who left.

  My knees sagged, and I sank onto the sofa, wishing I was anywhere but there.

  “What the hell do you want, Cale?”

  He waltzed into the apartment, dancing to a tune no one else heard. “Is that any way to greet a good friend?”

  Cale was a vampire, and while I could’ve passed for your average woman, everything he did, everything he wore, even the way he talked, practically screamed bloodsucker. He was turned in the late 1800s, and it showed.

  Tonight, he wore a long, black velvet frock coat and a top hat that looked like they should have been in a museum. In my opinion, I always thought he should have been in one of those Anne Rice novels. I wasn’t the only person to think so. At first, he’d been rather flattered, but after a while, he began to whine he was an original, and finally, people stopped comparing him to Armand and Lestat.

  A notorious playboy, he adored young ladies, and tended to avoid the more experienced women. I never asked about his preference, and he never volunteered. Which was probably all just as well. Vampires, after all, can be allies and confidants, but they can’t exactly be friends. I wasn’t so sure I ever wanted to be Cale’s friend. Even though I’d known him for a little more than forty years, there was still something about him I didn’t trust. Most people I could read easily, but Cale was excellent at hiding his emotions—or perhaps he was just really stupid and there wasn’t anything deep to him after all.

  “I mean it, Cale.” I stood up and didn’t hide the anger that was probably on my face. “I neither have the time nor the patience to deal with you.”

  The good-natured grin vanished, and he took off the silly-looking spectacles. “Ah.”

  “What was with the ‘Ah’?”

  He pulled out a white silken handkerchief and started to polish the lenses of his spectacles. “You’re hungry.”

  I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had to get out of there.

  “Fuck you, Cale.” I pushed past him and started for the door. “Make sure you lock the door with the key on the nightstand and don’t forget to put it in my mailbox, or I swear to God, I’ll rip out your intestines and use them as suspenders.”

  He called out to me, “Such words of love will surely turn my head.”

  Whatever.

  I didn’t bother to answer him.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so grateful to be outside.

  ***

  The club writhed with glistening bodies, and my mood started to lighten. I’d get to feed and fuck. Could I possibly ask for more?

  Not really.

  The DJ for the night, Frankie Ramirez, waved in greeting. I did my best to return it, but it wasn’t easy with all the bouncing bodies jamming to the song, Spitfire by The Prodigy. Ramirez was a good guy who didn’t take it too hard when I turned him down for a date.

  “Hey, Boss Lady!” Janessa, a pretty Asian, yelled over the music. As she polished a set of shot glasses emblazoned with the club name, I snagged a bottle of Smirnoff from the ice coolers. “Pretty rowdy tonight!” she said. “We had some trouble with some Weres who wanted Ramirez to play some goddamn bluegrass! Country music—can you fucking believe that? But Langsten just shoved some more drinks in their hands. I think they’re over there, passed out by the bathrooms.” She grinned, and her fangs looked practically obscene in her incredibly cute face. Short and slim, Janessa looked about seventeen. In truth, I think she was about a hundred, give or take a couple of years.

  I smacked one hand on the counter. “I’m going to go hit the floor. See if there’s something that can…interest me, you know?”

  She nodded and turned her attention to a pair of human women, both with big hair, asking for margaritas.

  I maneuvered through the crowd, and the song changed to a remix version of Hoobastank’s Out of Control. Ramirez was really working the crowd, and I made a mental note to give him a bonus for this night’s efforts.

  But meanwhile…I needed to feed. And fuck.

  The order didn’t matter. Just as long I got to do both.

  A tall man grinned at me, the rave lights catching the glint of his synthetic fangs. I smiled back, although I wasn’t interested in him. Dark hair flopped into his eyes, and he held out a hand to me, hollering something over the pounding music. I shook my head before ducking deeper into the mass. He looked like a fine boy, but a bit too smart. I needed someone dumb and good-looking.

  Easily two hundred people danced here, maybe more. I knew I’d find my toy for the night. Kieran and Jamison vanished from my mind. I let the music sway my body, let the rhythm pulse through my blood.

  God, I loved this place.

  A finger tapped my shoulder. “Pretty rocking, isn’t it?” a male voice hollered.

  I turned around to face a blond extending a martini glass to me. By this time, I’d walked to the edge of the dance floor, and the sounds of the music had lessoned to a point where people didn’t have to scream to be heard.

  “For me? You shouldn’t have.” I laugh
ed and took it, even though the martini was the last thing on my mind.

  He was roughly the same height as Jamison, and unlike most of the crowd here at the club, he was actually dressed in a normal pair of dark blue jeans and a gray jacket with a black turtleneck.

  He nodded to the people on the dance floor. “This is the only club I’ve seen that has this many people on the floor at any given time. The DJ here kicks ass.”

  “Of course,” I said.

  Ramirez was the best of the best. That was, after all, the reason I hired him.

  He leaned a forearm on one of the many marble columns that littered the floor and smiled down at me. Blond hair fell in soft waves to his wide shoulders. I couldn’t believe my luck. He was certainly easy on the eyes. By no means did he rival Kieran or Jamison, but he’d do.

  Oh...yeah.

  “So, you come here often?” he asked.

  “Not very often. I came with some of my friends.” I waved in the general direction of the bar where a cluster of people were intoxicated. I smiled tremulously, and as Prep Boy’s gaze heated, I knew the prey was hooked.

  All I had to do was reel him in but that was hardly going to be a chore.

  “You know, this music is great, but I’m starting to go deaf. You want to go someplace quieter?”

  His smile widened. “What about your friends? Won’t they wonder where you are?”

  “I live close by, actually. We can get there and be back before they even realize I’m gone.”

  He did not miss the subtle hint I dropped, and the smile vanished.

  “Let’s go, then.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me through the crowd, back toward the exit.

  Sandalwood.

  The smell of ashes and sandalwood filtered through the air, smacking me in the face with the force of a two-ton sledgehammer.

  A witch. This guy was a witch. Maybe it was the fact Jamison was one, too, but I wasn’t so sure I wanted to deal with another caster. Not after what I just muddled through. On the other hand, I was sure I didn’t want to expend time and effort just to snag another blood source.

  Fuck it.