Storm the Night Read online

  “Can I ask you something?” he said, watching me.

  “You just did.” I shrugged.

  “Can I ask why all the designer clothes? From your apartment, I can see you’re not rolling in money. Yet, you dress exceptionally well in brand-name clothes, shoes, accessories. You don’t need all that expensive drapery to look beautiful. You’d look stunning in a burlap sack.”

  I ignored his compliment. Ignored the way my body straightened in response, the tingling, the heat in my abdomen. It was turning into my go-to reaction whenever he was near, and I wondered if I’d ever get used to it.

  “I buy designer clothes because I like them.” I shrugged. It was the truth. Mom had always thought I’d be a fashion designer; apparently, I’d had a keen interest in the fashion industry since I was a child—but it was a cutthroat business. I liked the laid-back vibe of graphic design.

  “How did you get inside?” I changed the subject, feeling out of control near him, that I’d willingly give up all my secrets without a second thought.

  “Rae invited me.”

  “She didn’t need to be here?”

  He ran his hand around the back of his neck and shook his head. “We’ve lost time tonight. It’s almost dawn. You’re drunk. We’ll wait out the day here and start again at sundown.”

  He was right. The whiskey mixed with the wine was making my head spin, and I smothered a yawn. It had been another long night, and I was exhausted. Taking my glass from me, Nate set it on the sink.

  “Get some rest. Tomorrow we have work to do. We’re going hunting.”

  I didn’t argue. I was too drunk to drive, and sleep sounded like a beautiful option. Upstairs I made up two rooms, drawing the heavy drapes across the windows to block out the sun. Already the sky was changing. Dawn was chasing away the night with streaks of pink and purple.

  “Which room would you prefer?” I asked. He was waiting in the hallway, and I crossed to stand in the doorway, ready to leave should he choose this room.

  “Either.” He shrugged.

  “Well, I’ll take this one then. I like yellow.” Grandma had a color theme in her house. All the upstairs bedrooms were decorated with a different pastel color theme.

  “Goodnight, Paige.”

  I don’t know what made me say it, but I suddenly blurted, “Stay,” and gripped the front of his shirt.

  “What?” He looked genuinely surprised, and my heart plummeted to my toes. Idiot. What are you doing?

  “Sorry. No. You’re right. Go. Jesus, just fucking go.” My face was hot with embarrassment. This is what you get for mixing your drinks, young lady. I was not a whiskey drinker, let alone straight whiskey after a bottle of wine.

  Releasing his shirt, I shut the door in his face and flung myself onto the bed. Hopefully, all of this would be forgotten in the morning. At least I hoped it would.

  Chapter Seven

  I woke with a start, unsure of where I was. A heavy arm was draped across my body, and someone was pressed up close behind me.

  “You’re awake,” Nate murmured, his voice thick with sleep. I shot out of bed so fast I tripped and sprawled across the floor, giving myself a carpet burn in the process.

  “What the hell?”

  “Relax.” He chuckled, rolling onto his back. “Nothing happened.”

  “Then why are you in my bed?” I demanded, picking myself up and straightening the tank I’d borrowed from Rae.

  “Uh, look around. This is my room.”

  And that was when I noticed the wallpaper was a pale spring green, not lemon yellow. As was the comforter on the bed.

  “What? How!?” I didn’t remember leaving my room, and I eyed him suspiciously. Had he brought me here?

  “Hey!” he protested, sitting up. The covers fell away, revealing the smooth expanse of his naked chest. “You came in here, all forlorn and whimpering. Something about a bad dream. I asked if you wanted to stay, and you climbed right on in, curled up to me, and were out like a light.”

  My cheeks heated with embarrassment. I did not recall any of it. I used to sleepwalk as a child but hadn’t had an episode in my adult life. What a time to start. Without a word, I hustled out of his room and returned to my own.

  After a quick shower, I dressed in the same clothes as yesterday and made my way downstairs. Nate was already there, holding out a coffee.

  “Thanks,” I muttered, accepting it without making eye contact, instead turning my attention to the sunset out the kitchen window. I couldn’t believe I’d slept the whole day! Sipping my coffee, I closed my eyes, waiting for it to caffeinate me enough to function. I opened them again to catch Nate studying me intently.

  “What?” I grumbled. He laughed. Long and loud, his head thrown back, his white teeth gleaming. “Stop laughing at me!” I almost stomped my foot. Almost. He sobered somewhat, still chuckling to himself.

  “For such a bright and bubbly spitfire, you sure are grumpy in the morning,” was all he said, finishing his own coffee, rinsing his mug, and setting it to drain on the sink. “Drink up. We need to get going.”

  “Where?”

  “Back to your place so you can get changed. Then we’re going hunting.”

  “Hunting in general, or do you have someone specific in mind?” I crossed my arms over my chest and tilted my head. Memories of last night were coming back to me. Throwing myself at him, the look of surprise on his face. My cheeks burned with the memory.

  “I’ll tell you on the way,” he replied cryptically. He commandeered my car, saying he’d return for his later. Once he was behind the wheel, he began talking. “What do you know about ghouls?”

  “Absolutely nothing,” I replied. It was the truth.

  “As the name suggests, ghouls consume human flesh—preferably dead—and they can take on the form of the last person they ate.”

  A shudder ran through me. “Gross,” I muttered. Vampires drinking blood was one thing, but ghouls eating flesh? I swallowed and opened the window to let in some fresh air, my stomach heaving at the thought.

  “That makes them challenging to find. Especially if they decide to take on that human’s life. They can live for several years undetected.”

  “And how are they detected?”

  “The form they’ve taken over doesn’t age. So, after a few years, people start to get suspicious. Plus, they run out of food and move on to their next meal.”

  “What are you saying?” I had a vision of a ghoul’s freezer full of body parts, each neatly labeled in preparation for Sunday’s roast.

  “Some ghouls will eat and run, meaning they won’t consume the entire corpse, just enough to satisfy their appetite for the moment. Other ghouls may join in and, between them, demolish the corpse. Sometimes it’s just discarded. But the smarter ones will stalk their prey, study their life, then kill them and assimilate into that life for as long as possible before moving on to the next.”

  “So. Ghouls kill humans?”

  “Affirmative. What? Did you expect they simply dug up graves and ate the rotting flesh? Or had a deal at the local funeral parlor?”

  “Urgh.” I gagged at the visual.

  “They like their meat dead—freshly dead is best, but they will eat a rotting corpse if they’re hungry enough. They can substitute human meat with animal meat for a while, but it is human flesh that keeps them alive.”

  “Stop,” I gasped, fearing I’d throw up. This was the grossest thing I’d ever heard. I rolled the window down further and practically stuck my whole head out, uncaring that my hair was now all over the place.

  “The only way to kill a ghoul is by destroying their brain,” he continued, uncaring that I was a lovely shade of green. “Either bash their head in, shoot them between the eyes, or decapitation will work too.”

  I closed my eyes and sucked in deep breaths until the nausea passed. I’d been killing vampires; I could kill a ghoul too. If I had to. But why did I have to?

  “Why are we hunting ghouls, though? I mean, why do you need
me?”

  “Because ghouls can sense when a vampire is nearby. He will sense me a mile away. I need the element of surprise, and that’s where you come in.”

  “And there are ghouls in Maxxan?” I’d had no idea, although a couple of the vampires I’d interrogated had alluded to the fact that trouble was brewing in my town.

  “Yes.” He didn’t sugarcoat any of it. Despite the fact the very thought of getting up close and personal with a flesh-eating ghoul made me want to hurl, I did what I always did in such situations. I asked myself, what would Rae do? She’d get the job done was the answer. She’d push down any fear and squeamishness, buckle up and do what was necessary. I’d agreed to help Nate, and that’s what I’d do.

  Mentally squaring my shoulders, I listened as he outlined his plan. Stake out the nightclub, Enchant. Nate showed me a photo of the ghoul we were looking for, a rather attractive blonde man with blue eyes and a wicked smile. He had a British accent, which would make it even easier to pick him from the crowd.

  Arriving back at my apartment, Nate insisted I shower to remove any traces of his scent. Then I was to dress as I usually did for hunting, like a girl on the prowl. Appeared vamps and ghouls alike went for the scantily clad women. Nate said something about retrieving his car and disappeared.

  Within forty minutes, I was ready, a skin-tight red dress that plunged almost to my navel, black thigh-high boots, hair piled high on my head to expose my neck, and heavy makeup. In outfits like this, I didn’t feel like myself. It wasn’t really me, it was my persona, and I secretly loved it, loved that no one knew the real girl behind the body and makeup, behind the external packaging. Of course, the creatures I met when dressed like this weren’t interested in getting to know the girl. They either wanted to fuck or drink my blood or both. And so far, I’d avoided all of those scenarios—I guess it was only a matter of time before my luck ran out.

  Nate was back and waiting. He looked me up and down, nodded, and opened the door, waiting for me to pass through ahead of him.

  “This way.” He moved to place a hand at the small of my back, then just as quickly pulled away. I frowned, not liking the twinge of hurt at his reluctance to touch me.

  “Don’t want my scent on you,” he explained as if sensing my sudden disquiet. I didn’t answer; instead, my mind was a whirl—why was I disappointed he hadn’t put his hand on me?

  “You’re very quiet.” He spoke softly just above my ear, and I ignored the weird sensation that swirled through my belly.

  “Just thinking.” I shrugged.

  “About?”

  “Everything. You. Me. My situation.”

  He stopped. His expression became guarded. “You’re not thinking of running again, are you?”

  “What?” Far from it. “No.” Hadn’t we already covered this? If he thought I was going to run every five minutes, then this would be impossible.

  “I said I’d help, and I will. I promise.” I exaggerated the word, trying to drill it into his thick skull that I’d made my decision, and I’d stand by it. And him. “Trust me. I know you don’t, but you should. I’m trusting you tonight. You could be hanging me out to dry for all I know. I’m letting you use me as ghoul bait, for Christ’s sake. I don’t know anything about ghouls, how strong they are, what their weaknesses are. How easily one would be able to incapacitate me. Eat me.” I shuddered at the imagery.

  He paused before answering, seeming to choose his words. “I will be there. Watching. You won’t see me, but I will be there, and I won’t allow any harm to come to you.”

  “Nate…” I paused, unsure of how to proceed. “All my life, I’ve been taught that vampires are…bad…evil. You haven’t given me much of an adjustment period, but I’m trying. I wouldn’t be here now if that weren’t the case. But what if it turns out I'm wrong? If it turns out you are a—” I was going to say monster, but he cut me off before I could finish.

  “Your trust in me is not misplaced.” It was turning into quite a sentimental moment, which he ruined by continuing with, “There’s something about me that you need to remember, Paige. I’m a hundred-and-eighty-year-old vampire. I was a soldier when I was turned. Since then, I’ve been a marine, a navy seal, special ops—which is why I’m now the Director of the SIA. I do what needs to be done. Understood?”

  I gulped. He was serious. Deadly serious. It was no longer my own neck on the line, and I fully believed that my family would pay the price if I did run or try to harm or kill him. “Understood,” I whispered, shaken. None of the research I’d done on him had revealed his extensive military background. I cursed myself for being so shallow as to think there wasn’t more to this man than what I’d read on the internet.

  “Good.” We began walking again. I curled my hands into fists to hide the ripple of blue electricity.

  We stopped at my car, and I opened the door. “You’re not coming?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll follow, don’t worry.”

  Right. “And you think I can draw him out? Because I’m wearing slutty clothes?”

  “This will work because you’re young and vibrant and are exuding a delicious energy that will attract him. You’re just his type.”

  “Yuk,” I grumbled, sliding my key into the ignition and starting the car. Then I had a thought.

  “What about zombies?” I asked before closing the door.

  “What about them?”

  “Are they real?”

  “What do you think?”

  “No, I don’t think they’re real. I mean, how could they be? We already have ghouls, which sounds like the same sort of thing.”

  “Zombies eat brains, not flesh,” he pointed out.

  “So, they’re real?”

  “Sorry, that’s classified,” he replied drolly.

  “You could have said that to begin with instead of being a dick about it,” I grumbled, slamming the door. Then another thought hit me, and I wound down the window. “Ghouls don’t eat fire demons, do they?”

  “I have no idea. Lure him in, take him to the warehouse. Treat him just as you would a vampire, and you’ll be fine. I won’t be far away.” And then he was gone. I hadn’t seen him move, but suddenly I was alone. Straightening my shoulders, I breathed in a deep breath and got into character. I could do this. One British ghoul coming right up.

  Chapter Eight

  “’ Ello luv, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?” The unmistakable British accent had me swiveling on my bar stool in surprise. I’d had no sense of a supernatural entity nearby. It was busy tonight, but mostly with human activity. I’d sensed no vampires at all, and I wondered if it was due to the ghoul being in town. Were vampires afraid of ghouls?

  “Oh, you know”—I plastered a smile on my face and fluttered my fake eyelashes at the disturbingly handsome man who slid onto the stool next to mine—“looking for some fun.”

  Ian Blackwell was drop-dead gorgeous. His hair was whiter than blonde, and his blue eyes were mesmerizing. No wonder he wanted to stay in his own skin—it was divine. He was as tall as Nate but not as broad. His body had a lean edge to it, and I wondered briefly if he was hungry. I blanched at the thought, then cursed myself for such thoughts, for he leaned toward me, concern on his face. “Everything all right, luv? You look a little peaky.”

  “Sorry.” I pushed down all thoughts of the flesh-eating ghouls and smiled again. “I’m fine, it’s just….”

  “What is it, luv? You can tell me.” He leaned in closer, his knee pressing against mine, his hand landing on my thigh and squeezing ever so softly. Testing my suitability as a snack?

  “It’s my boyfriend.” I sighed, turning sad eyes to him. “Ex-boyfriend, I should say. He dumped me yesterday.” I blinked rapidly as if dispelling tears. “And yet I just saw him…here…with another girl.” I lowered my face, letting loose tendrils of hair swing forward.

  “Oh, sweetheart.” Bingo, he fell for it hook, line and sinker. His arm was now around my shoulders, and our
bodies pressed closely together. “He’s not worth the air you breathe, I promise ya. How about you let me buy you another drink, and I can cheer you up?”

  “That would be wonderful.” I smiled and turned my face up to his, losing myself in the sparkling sapphires of his eyes.

  My glass was never empty, and I could feel the alcohol taking effect. This ghoul was doing an excellent job at getting me pissed. He was also getting handsy. He’d run his palm up and down my thigh for a while, and when I didn’t protest or move away, he turned his attention on other body parts, mostly my neck. It was weird. I would have thought a vampire would have been obsessed with my neck, but it appeared Ian was a neck guy, for he kept running his fingers up and down my throat, then curling them around the nape of my neck. When he cupped my chin and ran his thumb across my bottom lip, my control slipped, and I shuddered in revulsion.

  Mistaking my shudder for desire, he leaned closer. “Shall we go somewhere a little more private, luv?” His lips touched my ear, and another shiver danced over me.

  “Yes!”

  He chuckled at my enthusiasm, threaded his fingers through mine, and tugged me forward, sliding me off the barstool until we stood chest to chest, hip to hip.

  “I know just the place.” His voice was lower, thicker, and his eyes darker. My heart jumped in anticipation, but I was pretty sure we were anticipating different things. He wanted sex. I wanted to tie him up and torture him.

  “I have a place…” I touched my tongue to my lower lip and looked up at him from beneath my lashes. I had to convince him to go to the warehouse with me—if we went back to his place, things could get tricky—like I’d burn his house down, and that would draw unwanted attention.

  His free arm curled around my waist, and he hugged me harder against him. His desire for me unmistakable. I felt the color drain from my face and quickly ducked my head to hide my reaction. Sucking in a breath, I did my best to compose myself. Soon, I promised myself. Soon I’d have him in the warehouse, and then it would all be worth it, then I could have my fun. That’s if Nate didn’t stop me. Nate had said he wanted to interrogate the ghoul, but surely he would let me help?