Shadow Prophet (Midnight Chronicles Book 1) Read online

  “Yes. She’s in Florida. You must rent a car and drive her to Houston. You must keep her protected.”

  “Protected from what?”

  “Anyone and everyone. No one can see her, if you can help it. And if they do, they must not hear her.”

  “Why not?”

  She gave me a serious expression. “I don’t know. But it would be bad, whatever happens.”

  For the first time in as long as I’d known her, Melissa didn’t try to flirt or seduce me. Instead, she wished me luck and left.

  What the crap? Why was she acting like a normal person all of a sudden? It had me suspicious, but I didn’t get a chance to think it over because as soon as she’d gone, Lizzie arrived. Oh, what a sweet breath of fresh air.

  I sat up, dangling my legs over the side of the bed, and gave her a tentative smile.

  “You’re finally awake!” She rushed to my side, followed by Detective Evans, who paused in the doorway before putting his finger up to let me know he’d give us a minute.

  Lizzie almost threw her arms around me, but hesitated at the last minute, probably not wanting to injure me.

  I chuckled. “I’m fine.”

  I hoped she’d hug me then, but she kept her emotions in check and sat next to me instead.

  Disappointment swelled up inside until she gave a sigh and put her arms around me, resting her head on my shoulder. It seemed she’d decided to give in to whatever urge she’d had anyway. I approved.

  “I was so worried about you. How are you feeling?”

  I put my arms around her, pulling her close and burying my face in her neck.

  “Not terribly great, but better than I would have been otherwise. If it hadn’t been for you . . .” I pulled back, meeting her gaze before gently brushing her cheek. “If what the doctors said is true, I owe you my life.”

  Apparently, my Restart had been completely epic, and only Lizzie’s ability to control Fire had saved us. While I was unconscious, my body had somehow called down all four elements, destroying the whole block the gas station was on and putting huge cracks in the surrounding streets. A massive tornado had hit, along with explosions and floods and earthquakes. No wonder Adam hadn’t survived his Restart.

  She trailed her fingers through my hair, not meeting my gaze. “No, you don’t. I owe you mine.”

  She was touching me. Willingly. The surge of happy emotions nearly overwhelmed me, and it was all I could do not to kiss her. I didn’t know how she’d respond to that, though.

  I chuckled. “How? I did nothing. In fact, I caused it all.”

  “No, earlier. When I was in the room with the fire vampires.”

  “We really need to do something about them.”

  “Like what?”

  I shrugged, tucking her against my chest, rubbing her shoulder. Oh, how I wished we could stay this way. How I wished she could be mine, really and truly. I knew, though, that we’d been through something very difficult and it had caused an artificial bond between us. Once this moment left, we probably wouldn’t be able to bring it back.

  Maybe that was my pessimistic side speaking, but I needed to prepare myself for the disappointment that would surely come.

  “I don’t know. We need to figure out where their hive is.”

  “Vampires have hives?”

  “Of course they do. Strength in numbers and all that.”

  “When do you want to go? You need time to heal, so I don’t think we should leave for a few days. That is, if they don’t come back before then. And we still need to actually hunt hounds.”

  I shook my head, and she looked up at me. “No,” I said. “I have to take care of another job first. I don’t know when—or if—I’ll be back.”

  Not only did I have the Florida protection job, but I was bound and determined to find a way to destroy the Shadow Prophet or to put an end to my contract with him. Even if it killed me to do so.

  Disappointment made her glance away, and my heart clenched at the expression on her face. I was constantly saying the wrong things to her.

  “Okay. Well, you let me know when you’re ready, all right?”

  I grabbed her, pulling her back again. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you. Lizzie, I need to see you.” I paused and cleared my throat, worried that had come across as too clingy. “I need to help you stop all these creatures.”

  I hesitated, tempted to kiss her while I had the chance. Before I could lose my nerve, I placed my hand on her cheek. My gaze dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes, and I froze. Uncertainty played across her face, completely killing the mood. She still didn’t trust me.

  Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I closed my eyes, then met her gaze and said, “I promise I’ll do everything I can to return. I won’t leave you to fight these demons alone.”

  She nodded. “Please come back,” she whispered.

  Detective Evans cleared his throat from the doorway, and Lizzie and I pulled away from each other. She scooted over, giving me a couple inches of space, and my side grew cold immediately. I ached to pull her back, but instead focused on Detective Evan’s questions about the fire vampires and hound.

  After I’d answered everything and had been checked by a doctor, I was given the go-ahead to leave. I discharged myself and gave Lizzie a kiss on the forehead.

  Patronizing? Possibly. But it was the most I could get up the courage to do without more encouragement from her.

  With an aching heart, I promised I’d return if I could. And then I walked out of the hospital, feeling Lizzie’s eyes on my back the whole way.

  I hated leaving her. Hated feeling like I was ruining everything. I couldn’t fulfill either job without failing at the other.

  Hopefully, I wouldn’t need to.

  It was time to confront the Shadow Prophet. But first, I had to finish the Florida job. And open my warehouse. And make sure Lizzie had protections in place.

  I couldn’t wait until I no longer had a to-do list.

  27

  Melissa texted me the address in Florida, and I saved it into my phone. My opening night at the warehouse was that evening, so I couldn’t leave right away.

  David met me there a couple of hours early to spar and basically test out the place. I’d found it helped to do that—it enabled me to make sure I’d remembered everything.

  “This is much better than your previous warehouse here was,” he said after I’d opened the doors.

  I nodded. “The guy I bought it from worked pretty hard to get it ready when he heard I was coming. I’ll show you around—you’ll see what I mean.”

  We walked in, and I shut the doors behind us, watching David’s reaction. He commented on the windows, the paint job—he liked the white too—the placement of the workout equipment, the fighting mats, and the weapons that lined one wall. When he saw the bathroom out in the open toward the back of the building, he grinned.

  “In case someone gets beat so bad, they can’t manage to shut any doors?”

  I grunted. “Funny. It doesn’t even work. I’m tempted to rip it out, but having it would definitely be convenient.”

  “Is it the only bathroom? If so, you might want to fix it.”

  I shook my head. “There’s another one upstairs, in the apartment.”

  “You don’t want your clients using that one, though, do you?”

  “Not really.”

  David rubbed his chin. “Why didn’t he tear it out or fix it? If he put so much work into the place, this seems like an obvious oversight on his part.”

  I shrugged. “He said he didn’t want to make that decision—he wasn’t sure if I’d want it or not.”

  “Fair enough.”

  I showed David the apartment—I’d put a TV and couch in there, but the rest of it was empty. Then we went downstairs to spar on each of the mats. It felt good to be fighting when I wasn’t required to kill my opponent.

  David was good, and he’d definitely improved since I’d last been there, but it was still easy
to best him.

  My dad, a retired CIA agent, had once told me I’d inherited all of his abilities, leaving none for the siblings who followed. Since getting kidnapped, I’d honed in on those natural abilities a great deal. I was fast and strong. Experienced, too. The experience was sometimes the most important component when sparring.

  We tested each of the mats, making sure none of them slipped, slid, or moved, and then we ordered pizza and ate it in the apartment upstairs.

  Neither of us said anything as we ate, watching a game. I’d remembered this about David. He didn’t feel the need to eliminate silences from conversations. I appreciated that about him.

  Soon enough, it was time to open for the night.

  I’d spent an hour earlier memorizing the faces and names of my new clients. It hadn’t been difficult—most were people I knew already. There were several I hadn’t met before, and I looked forward to finding out who exactly they were.

  At nine p.m., David and I pulled the doors open. A line had formed outside, and cheers went up when I officially opened for business.

  In the future, the warehouse would be available for anyone to use at any hour. Each client would receive a separate code, making tracking easier, and I wouldn’t need to be there all the time. This first night was different, of course. It was sort of a meet and greet. Or maybe a meet and fight.

  Some of the new faces were demons. Most weren’t terribly dangerous, but two definitely were. I’d need to keep an eye on them, as I was sure they were doing with me.

  In all, the night was a great success. I assigned codes, monitored fighting, instructed when needed, and above all, watched and learned. I loved this part of my “job.” “Life.” “Calling.” Whatever it was.

  I was giving feedback to a set of fighting trolls when a woman tapped me on the shoulder.

  “I have information you’ll want.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Okay. Let’s hear it.”

  “Somewhere private, maybe?”

  Wary that it might be Melissa—she’d changed her appearance a couple of times to trick me before—I didn’t lead her upstairs. Instead, we stepped back near the broken bathroom where no one could hear us.

  “This work?”

  She nodded.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “My name is Heather. That’s all I’m comfortable telling you right now.”

  I could understand a desire for privacy. “What can I do for you?”

  “I know about your boss problem.”

  “Boss problem?” What was she talking about?

  “The supernatural who is blackmailing you into doing things you wouldn’t normally do.”

  I folded my arms. “How do you know about that?” No one was supposed to know.

  “He interviewed a couple of other people before picking you. I was one of them. I didn’t have enough emotional baggage—no offense—so he didn’t pick me.”

  I bristled at that. I had a complicated life. That wasn’t emotional baggage. Deciding to ignore her comment, I asked, “And he told you what the job was while interviewing you?”

  She shook her head. “I have some abilities that most don’t. I was able to learn what he intended before he dismissed me.”

  “Convenient.”

  “Very. Anyway, I think I know someone who can help you.”

  “Really? Who?”

  “His name is Porter. He’s been dead for over a hundred years, but he’s good—very good. When he shoots someone, they die. And if they don’t die, it’s because he didn’t want them dead.”

  “I’ve tried shooting this guy before.”

  “I’m sure you have. Still, give Porter a chance. He might have something that could help.”

  I agreed to do so, and Heather promised to get me in contact with him before meandering back into the crowd.

  Why couldn’t she have found me months and months ago when my whole family was still alive?

  Maybe because things hadn’t come to a boiling point just yet. I hadn’t already tried everything I could think of and everything my closest colleagues had suggested.

  Around two in the morning, I kicked everyone out. David had left early, and I was alone in cleaning up. I didn’t mind that.

  28

  When I did jobs like this new one from the Shadow Prophet—the ones where secrecy was important—I tended to use temporary dyes on my hair. Usually black or brown, since they were so different from my regular silver. And so, the first thing I did the next morning was put a dark rinse in my hair. I’d always liked how the darker colors made my blue eyes pop. That was sometimes a problem—people often remembered me because of my eyes. Too bad. I wasn’t willing to wear contacts.

  Finished prepping, and hoping the job wouldn’t take too long since the dye always came out quickly, I made arrangements for an Uber driver to pick me up.

  During my ride to the airport for my flight to Miami, I made a couple of phone calls and arranged for someone to watch over Lizzie while I was gone. I needed to make sure she would be safe.

  As was customary, I slept on the plane. And when I landed, as instructed, I rented an SUV with dark windows and headed to the address Melissa had given me.

  The building was low and squat and a few hundred yards long. It had originally been a motel, but had been converted into apartments at some point in the nineties.

  I parked the car and hopped out, hiding my disgust at the stench that surrounded the place. It smelled like something had died in the bushes. I did my best not to focus on that while I strode up the sidewalk to a unit in the middle of the building and knocked on the door.

  A child—around six years old, I guessed—opened.

  “Here already?” she asked, tucking a strand of her short black hair behind an ear. She stared at me with black eyes, a serious expression on her face.

  Was she expecting me? “I’m picking up a delivery for Houston.”

  The child nodded. “I’m ready.”

  I frowned at her, wondering if it was a joke. Then I noticed my tattoo vibrating slightly. She was more than what she appeared, but I had no more information than that. I shrugged, motioning for her to get in the car while I grabbed the luggage by the door. After I’d put it in the trunk, I made sure she knew how to do the seat belt. I didn’t have a booster seat—or car seat or whatever they were called—for her. Why hadn’t Melissa alerted me to the fact that I would be transporting a child and not an adult?

  I punched the address for our destination into my phone’s maps application, pressed on my nightshade tattoo and asked it to keep me awake for several days, and then we headed out. I glanced in the mirror. “Are you hungry?”

  She shook her head and stared out the window.

  Good. A silent type. We’d get along just fine.

  Four hours later, remembering that she was only a child, I stopped for gas, a bathroom break, and food.

  Because I was on protection duty, she had to go into the men’s bathroom with me. She didn’t seem to mind, and I wondered how many times she’d done this before. Due to her reactions to everything, she couldn’t possibly be new to the routine.

  I filled up the car, wanting it to be ready to go if we needed to leave quickly, and then the girl and I went into the adjoining restaurant. I ordered food, looking at her for approval—she nodded—and we sat, waiting for it to be delivered.

  “I need to tell you something,” the girl said, breaking the hours-long silence.

  “What’s that?”

  “My name is Raven.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Should you be telling me this?”

  “Yes. It might save your life someday.”

  Okay. Interesting. I tucked that bit of information away and focused on eating. She seemed content to maintain the silence, and I spent the time wondering what I was going to do with the Shadow Prophet. I really hoped Heather would find Porter and he could actually help.

  Several hours later, we stopped for food, gas, and bathroom breaks again. This ti
me, neither of us said anything. We were just heading out to the car when an Arete and a demon approached. The demon was a legit one, from the underworld. Not a vampire or werewolf, but a real demon.

  I put my hand on Raven’s shoulder, stopping her. She looked up at me with a serious expression.

  “Everything is going to be okay,” she said.

  I tilted my head. Why would she say that? “Good to know.”

  The Arete smiled at us. “Hey, Raven.”

  The moment her name came out of the guy’s mouth, the girl at my side turned into a large black bird. She squawked and cawed, flapping her ebony wings, trying to get off the ground.

  Raven was an actual raven.

  And the men were there to kill her.

  The demon charged, and I pulled out my gun, but my bullets did nothing to them. They were protected somehow. The Arete attacked with elemental powers, distracting me, while the demon did his best to get the bird. I had a dickens of a time keeping him away from her while also trying to protect myself from the bricks, glass, and sleet that showered around us.

  Thank goodness the parking lot was empty. Otherwise, there’d be a whole lot of casualties.

  I sensed that huge ocean of magic, and I figured now was as good a time as any to learn how to use it. I reached for it, pulling a massive amount toward myself, then with a roar, slammed it toward the Arete and the demon. I didn’t have anything in mind for it to do other than destroy.

  That was the last thing I remembered.

  29

  When I came to, I was on the ground, and Raven—a girl again—was there, my head in her lap.

  “What happened?” I tried to sit up, but she shushed me and held me down.

  “You used too much magic.” She absentmindedly pushed her fingers through my hair, a frown on her face.

  I didn’t mind that she was playing with my hair. It was a lot like what my sister used to do when she was the same age.

  “It knocked you out,” she said. “You killed the Arete—his body is over there.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “The demon got away, though. He thought you and I were dead.”