Wicked Kiss (Nightwatchers) Page 3

  My breath left me in a rush. “You said what?”

  Bishop’s gaze flashed to me. “I didn’t say that.”

  “So he misunderstood you? Please tell me how that sort of message could get messed up.”

  Kraven laughed, an unpleasant sound that slithered under my skin. “Bishop didn’t come right out and say we had permission to kill you. But he said if you slip up and start munching on souls then you’d become a problem we’d have to deal with. Better?”

  “Is that true?” I shot a searching look at Bishop.

  His expression was unreadable. “We’ll talk about this later.”

  “No, we’ll talk about it now.”

  “Later,” he said again firmly. “Go home, Samantha. We can handle the girl.”

  I stared at him, trying to read his frustratingly hard-to-read face. I suddenly wanted to run—far away from here, far away from these three...even Bishop, who normally made me feel safe. At least, I thought he did.

  But I stood my ground. I refused to be chased away that easily. I couldn’t let myself give in to my fear. “I’m not leaving yet. I can still help you tonight.”

  Disapproval slid through his blue eyes. “Fine. Stay. Your choice.”

  I could prove to them that what happened at the club wasn’t really me. It was a slipup, not an indication that I was losing it. And when I got my soul back, my hunger would be gone. The cold I always felt would fade away. I would be as normal as I could ever hope to be.

  “Feeling a connection to the blonde chick?” Kraven asked with a smirk. “How sweet. Maybe you can be best friends. I know you’re looking for a new one since the last got flushed away.”

  I didn’t know why I was surprised that he could be so thoughtlessly cruel. My only defense was to put on a good game face. The best way to combat sarcasm was with more of the same.

  “Or maybe you can bite me.”

  His grin stretched. “Is that an invitation?”

  “Not tonight...James.”

  His smile fell.

  I knew his human name. He’d shared it with me in a moment of weakness, and I knew it bothered him when I used it.

  “Gray-girl’s got a smart mouth,” Kraven muttered. “It’s going to get her in trouble someday.”

  “You’re right,” Bishop said. “It will.”

  He was mad that I hadn’t tucked tail between my legs and scurried home like a good little monster. But I was staying for the ritual. I would be there for the new girl, no matter what.

  I knew what was coming. She didn’t. Right now, she’d have no memory of why she was here. The invisible barrier that stretched over Trinity, put in place by the combined powers of Heaven and Hell, was designed to keep supernaturals in the city. But it also kept supernaturals out. To get in, angels or demons had to be specially protected against it. It also stripped away memories. The only thing that helped pinpoint a demon or angel was the searchlight—the one only I could see.

  The ritual was what restored them to their former demonic or angelic selves. If it wasn’t performed, they’d wander the city forever with no idea who they were.

  I would rather not have to witness the ritual again—to put it mildly—but I couldn’t just walk away and let this girl deal with these three without a shred of moral support.

  Her pace had quickened. She knew she was being followed. Before long, she found herself in a blind alley, in a less populated neighborhood. She turned to face us, holding her hands up in front of her.

  “I don’t want any trouble,” she said uneasily.

  “Do we look like trouble?” Kraven asked, looking down at himself. “Honestly. I’m a little insulted.”

  “Let’s do this,” Roth said.

  Bishop shot him a look. “Patience.”

  The girl’s gaze moved to me and a measure of relief went through her eyes. I knew I looked pretty harmless. Nothing more than a teenager dressed to go clubbing on a Saturday night, my long dark hair loose around my shoulders. Nothing to fear.

  Not at first glance, anyway.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “A friend,” I told her, forcing myself to sound calm. “My name’s Samantha.”

  She swallowed hard. “Why are you following me?”

  “Because we want to help you. We know you’re having problems. We know you don’t know who you are.”

  Her blue eyes widened. “How could you know that?”

  “Magic,” Roth said with a thin, unpleasant smile.

  Bishop was the one who always performed the ritual, but he wasn’t making any sudden moves.

  “I think I hit my head.” She scrubbed her hand through her blond hair. “I woke up earlier and I—I didn’t know where I was. I’m sure I’ll be fine in a little while, so...thanks, but I don’t need any help.”

  Despite the chill in the air, sweat dripped down my back and my palms were damp. “You will be fine. I promise.”

  “Samantha’s right. You’ll be fine.” Bishop finally pulled the curved golden dagger out of the sheath he wore under his shirt, along his spine.

  Her eyes shot to it immediately and widened with fear. “What is that?”

  “Check her back.”

  Kraven grabbed hold of both of her wrists in one hand. He pulled at her sweater and she let out a frightened shriek.

  I stormed forward and punched him in his arm. “Do you have to be such a jerk? You’re scaring her!”

  “Sorry, sweetness. There isn’t really a polite way to do this.”

  “Samantha, please don’t let them hurt me,” the girl begged. A tear slid down her cheek and she trembled, but didn’t try very hard to break away from Kraven’s grip.

  My heart wrenched for her. “I need to check something real quick. Everything will be better soon. You need to trust me, okay?”

  “O-okay.” Her voice quaked.

  I took a deep breath and pulled her sweater up her back a few inches so I could see her skin. The lines of the tattoo I’d been hoping to see were visible immediately, wrapping right around her sides and past the waistline of her jeans.

  “Is it there?” Bishop asked.

  A small but immediate measure of relief coursed through me. “She has an imprint. She’s definitely the right one.”

  She stared at me with confusion. “An imprint? What’s an imprint?”

  I nodded and returned her sweater to its previous position. “Something that will make everything all right in just a minute.” I looked into her blue eyes and the fear I felt for her must have been reflected there. The panic instantly returned to her gaze.

  Her breath came quicker. “What do you mean? What are you going to do to me?”

  “Do it, Bishop,” I bit out, nausea coursing through my gut. “Quickly.”

  I thought he’d hesitate and show some sign of reluctance for what he had to do. Sometimes I mistook him for a gentle angel who struggled with sanity and needed help from time to time.

  But he wasn’t gentle. And he didn’t need any help right now. He was a warrior who didn’t flinch when it came to taking action.

  He nudged me out of the way and looked in the girl’s eyes. A coldness moved over his face that scared me.

  “Be brave,” he said, as if issuing a command. Then he thrust the dagger into her chest without another moment’s hesitation.

  My knees gave out at the same time hers did.

  It’s the ritual, I told myself over and over. She’s not human. This isn’t really murder.

  The only way a demon or angel could get their memories back after passing through the invisible barrier and into Trinity was to temporarily die—provided that death came from Bishop’s very special golden dagger. The dagger did something, some magic, which removed their protective shielding and restored their former sense of self.

  If they were ever stabbed again with the same dagger, however, it would kill them.

  I stared down at the blonde girl now lying on the ground of the alley with the dagger sticking out of her chest.
r />   “That was so awesome,” Roth breathed.

  “You’re sick,” I snarled at him.

  “Your point?” The demon leaned over and yanked the dagger out of her chest when Bishop didn’t reach for it first.

  My mind reeled over witnessing this horrible act yet again. “I need to talk to you, Bishop. Alone. Now.”

  “Uh-oh,” Kraven said. “Somebody’s in trouble.”

  “Fine.” Bishop nodded to the left. “Let’s go over there.”

  “Need a chaperone?” Kraven asked. “Wouldn’t want her to get any ideas. Maybe fake murder turns gray-girl on.”

  Bishop sent a glare in his direction. “Stay here and watch over the girl.”

  “Eat me.”

  Apparently, Bishop took that as a “yes, I’ll stay here and watch over the girl.” He led me to a spot farther down the alley and just around the corner. I cast a last glance at the blonde now lying as if dead on the pavement of the alley while two demons lurked nearby waiting for her to wake up again.

  “I told you to leave,” Bishop said, his voice and expression equally tight. He wasn’t meeting my gaze. “So if you’re upset about what I had to do, you only have yourself to blame. I was doing my job. I didn’t enjoy that.”

  I knew he was right. It was his job—one he was remarkably and chillingly good at. “Look, I—I’m sorry about what happened at Crave tonight. I know you’re mad at me.”

  “You think I’m mad?”

  “You should be mad.”

  “Should I?” He raised an eyebrow, his harsh expression finally thawing at the edges. “Okay, then I’m mad.”

  “I knew it.”

  “Still, you should have left. I know the ritual upsets you. Especially since it was a girl this time.”

  “Which is kind of ridiculous. I’d all but gotten used to it happening to boys. Why should a girl be any different? Maybe I’m the sexist one here.”

  “She’ll be fine.”

  “You didn’t hesitate. Not even a second.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  “A little,” I admitted, but held his gaze. “Are there a lot of female angels?”

  “Is that what she is? I didn’t see the imprint.”

  I nodded. Since angels and demons didn’t have actual wings here in the human world—apparently such things were not physical as much as they were metaphysical—they did retain the mark of such wings. It looked like a large tattoo that stretched across their backs and down their sides. Angel wings were pale with delicate, feathery lines. Demon wings were bold and black and webbed. It was the only way to tell them apart at a glance.

  “There are an equal number of male and female angels,” he said.

  “Equal. Everything’s equal,” I grumbled. “Got to keep the balance on the universal teeter-totter, don’t you?”

  He studied my face. “I know you’re upset.”

  I didn’t break our eye contact. “Did you really tell Roth he could kill me if I screw up?”

  He didn’t speak for a moment. “No.”

  The demon had said it with such certainty, there had to be more to this. I needed to know the truth. “Then what did you say that gave him that idea?”

  His gaze grew fiercer. “You can’t let what happened earlier with that boy ever happen again. It’s too dangerous, Samantha.”

  It was so cold tonight—or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just me and my soulless side effects. My coat wasn’t thick enough to keep me warm. The tights I wore under my skirt were too thin. I shivered. “That’s the real reason you’ve stayed away from me this week. So I wouldn’t be tempted to kiss you again. So I wouldn’t hurt you again.”

  His vivid blue eyes burned into mine. “You didn’t hurt me the first time.”

  “But I could next time.”

  “We don’t know that for sure.” He wrenched his gaze away from me, his expression shadowing. “I kept my distance because I needed to know if this pull I feel toward you was because of what you are. If this soul inside me has been a magnet drawing me closer to you since the first moment we met.”

  It was what I’d also feared. That this—this overpowering thing I felt for Bishop wasn’t real. That it was just another side effect, like me being cold and hungry all the time. All because he had a soul and I longed for it. “And?”

  His brows drew together. “Inconclusive. I’ll know for sure when we get your soul back.”

  My heart pounded like a wild thing in my chest. “You think it’ll be that simple? Find Stephen, find my soul, pop it back in like a battery pack? Snap, Samantha’s back to normal and you won’t feel so weird around me?”

  “Nothing important is ever that simple.” He searched my face. “Let me do my job. Let me find him. And then we’ll figure everything else out.”

  I pushed a hand through my hair, tugging on a tangle, and realized I was literally trembling. “Quite honestly? Roth is right. Even if you purge the city of every single other gray, I’m still here. That means the barrier stays right where it is and you’re stuck here.”

  “It’s fine.” Bishop rubbed his fingers over his temples, his frown deepening. “All is fine. All will be fine. I swear it will. Nothing to worry about. Nothing, nothing at all.”

  There was a worrisome edge of madness to his voice, something I remembered all too well from before. “Are you okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be? Everything’s fantastic.” When he laughed, it had a sharp, insane edge to it.

  He wasn’t okay. Far from it. “You said you’d found alternate ways of dealing with the crazy when it landed. How exactly is that? Deep breathing? Meditation?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Care to expand?”

  “Not really.”

  His insistence on always being evasive made me crazy. “Nothing’s really changed, has it? You don’t tell me anything.”

  “I tell you what you need to know. But some things...you don’t want to know.”

  I flinched. “I thought we were in this together. Like a team. The others don’t know the secret about me....”

  “And you are never to tell them.” He grabbed my shoulders tightly as if what I’d said had alarmed him. The craziness in his eyes intensified. “You hear me? None of them can ever know about your birth parents.”

  “I hear you. Relax.” I reached down and grabbed his hand. Electricity sparked between us and the insanity began to ease from his expression.

  Skin to skin. Touching him only spiked my hunger, but it was essential—at least right now—for him to calm down.

  The others knew I could do this, just like I could see the searchlights. But they didn’t know the whole truth like Bishop did.

  “Better?” I asked.

  “Much.” He nodded, entwining our fingers together for a moment that was equal parts blissful and torturous before he reluctantly let go. “I know you’re frustrated by some of the things I do, but you have to trust me.”

  “I want to...”

  “But?”

  My throat tightened as I locked gazes with him. “How can I trust somebody who won’t even tell me his real name?”

  “My name is Bishop.”

  “It wasn’t always.”

  “No. Not always.” He looked into my eyes and for the briefest moment I was certain he was going to tell me. Then something shuttered there, keeping me out when I only wanted in.

  Don’t get me wrong, I liked his name. I loved his name, really. It was right and it suited him. But it wasn’t real. It was something made up, like an actor in Hollywood who wanted to leave his humble beginnings far behind.

  If anything, I felt uneasier than I had before our private talk. I followed him wordlessly back to the dark alley to find Roth hovering over the angel while still holding the knife. The way he watched her was predatory.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.

  “She’s so hot. Too bad she’s an angel.” He gave me a cold grin. “I checked under her sweater.”
>
  A sudden flash of fury turned my vision red. “Touch her again and I’ll kill you myself.”

  “Chill out, gray-girl.” Kraven stood nearby with his arms crossed over his chest. “I was chaperoning from a disinterested distance. Don’t worry, he didn’t get frisky. It was just her back.”

  “She smells so good.” Roth crouched down lower so he could put his face close to hers. “Like strawberries and whipped cream. It’s making me hungry.”

  “Get away from her,” Bishop warned.

  “Make me.”

  All I wanted to do was protect this defenseless girl. I was about to move toward Roth and kick him as hard as I could, hoping to do a little damage with my high heels, when she let out a gasp and her eyes snapped open.

  “Back from the dead.” Roth gazed down at her lasciviously. “Welcome, beautiful.”

  She stared up at him hovering over her with the knife in his grip. Then her hand shot out and grabbed his throat.

  “Get off me.” She pushed him upward and then slammed him down to the ground. She easily disarmed him and held the knife to his throat.

  He looked up at her straddling his chest, his eyes wide with surprise.

  “That I didn’t expect,” Kraven said, from where he leaned against the wall. “But I kind of like it.”

  “Easy.” Bishop approached the furious angel. “It’s okay.”

  “How is this okay?” she demanded. “He was sniffing me like a horny dog. Very unprofessional. He must be one of the demons.”

  “I’m definitely enjoying this,” Roth said with a lewd grin. “You can sit on me anytime, beautiful. Clothing optional.”

  “You’re disgusting.” She jabbed the knife into his throat deep enough to cut him. He winced and blood trickled down his neck. The mocking edge to his expression disappeared. “I despise demons.”

  In a single effortless movement, she got to her feet and inspected the golden dagger. Her gaze flicked to Bishop. “Who’s the leader here?”

  “I am,” Bishop said.

  “Depends on the day, really,” Kraven muttered.

  The blonde’s gaze shot to him. “You’re another demon, aren’t you?”

  “Is it my cologne or my good looks that gave me away?”