Midnight Magic, page 43
“Make a sound and I’ll kill you,” he said, his tone holding echoes of pain.
Shards bit into her cheek, and Rose grit her teeth from cursing.
His lips were cold against her ear, his words turning her stomach. “I have your father.”
CHAPTER 10
Danton knew something was wrong, the urge to find Rose an overwhelming feeling he couldn’t shake. He was aware that Bee was speaking, her words flowing through as if they were simply the wind, but he still forced himself to concentrate on her moving lips.
“Are you even listening?”
Not really.
“You need to leave her alone, D. I don’t know what happened between you before but she was messed up when you left. She doesn’t deserve that again.”
His chest tightened, brows drawing together as his attention kept drifting back to the club. He was agitated, nervous but couldn’t pinpoint the reason.
Bee stamped her foot. “Danton?!”
Her shout echoed behind him, his legs moving on their own accord. The club had resumed, the bar busier than last time but the commotion essentially forgotten as he made his way inside. Heartbeats pulsed across his senses, too many to narrow down to the one he needed. Many were accelerated, from nerves or excitement he couldn’t be sure, but he was confident hers wasn’t amongst them.
Blood, on the other hand, was the one thing he could distinctively track, and Rose’s still adorned the hard wooden floor. Only delicate smears, but it was enough as he sucked in the scent through his mouth, savouring her against his tongue. He had fed from her, only a drop in their love making but it had been enough for him to memorise her exquisite taste.
She had been like fire, pure passion and sunshine.
“There you are,” someone cooed towards him, a hand touching him along his bare stomach.
Danton bit back his immediate snarl, schooling his face into an expressionless mask.
The woman leant forward, strategically pressing her breasts against his chest as she licked her professionally painted lips. “Want to meet me upstairs?” She was one of the humans he had been speaking to earlier, using them to blend in to the clientele.
It wasn’t long before he would have welcomed the woman’s touch, craved it even. It wasn’t about sex, or release, it was about anchoring himself into the world. His life was to hunt other vampires, his reputation causing fear amongst his kind. Without touch, without affection he was as cold as the monsters he hunted.
He didn’t want to be soulless, not when he wasn’t even sure if he had one in the first place.
The woman wasn’t happy with his lack of enthusiasm, her fingers tugging the waistband of his leathers. She squeaked when his wrist captured her hand, her breath quickening when he released it just as rapidly.
“Excuse me,” he said, lightening his accent until it was barely there. He didn’t want her to mistake his words. “I’m not interested.”
The hurt in her expression would only last as long as her next infatuation, so he felt nothing but mild irritation when he stepped away and began to follow the blood along the floor. The glass Rose had initially cut herself on sat precariously on the edge of the bar, her blood still wet on the edge. The drips moved around the side, down a small, darkly lit corridor to a staff bathroom towards the back.
“Hey!” someone called. “You can’t go down there!”
Danton tensed, the door to the bathroom open for display. The tiles had been white, the water from the broken sink overflowing as it flooded the room.
“Shit! Shit!” A man tried to move past him, stretching to reach the tap but Danton’s hand snapped out.
He didn’t need to know his eyes had bled to black, he could tell from the sudden spike of fear of the man he held by his shirt. He recognised the shifter, the same man who had interrupted them upstairs only a day before, and the same man who had treated Rose with little respect.
Danton felt his fangs pierce his bottom lip, copper a familiar taste at the back of his throat. It was instinct to pierce and tear into his prey, to suck the lifeblood from the creature weaker than him. The urge was overwhelming as the shifter’s pulse raced rapidly against the side of his throat, an enticing dance of the delicate skin.
Danton pried his fingers away, his next words encrusted with ice. “Fuck off.”
The man slipped as he scrambled away, but Danton didn’t check to make sure he had left. His eyes drifted back to the mirror, Rose’s blood a splash of horror against the spiderweb of cracks.
‘DAD!’ had been smeared on the side in red, the ‘A’ smudged and the second ‘D’ unfinished.
*.*.*.*.*
* * *
Patience was something he excelled at, a statue in the dark who could remain immobile for hours as he sought out his prey. He wouldn’t make a sound, not a single breath or even a blink, not when those he hunted were also predators. Hundreds of years he had used his ability to wait, and yet it took everything in him to not rip the door from the caravan Rose’s father called home.
Rage burned like fire inside his chest, senses on full alert as he forced himself to remain in the shadows, to wait and listen. There was nothing, the mundane sounds of pottering, muttering and television amongst those that lived in the vicinity worrying. His eyesight was perfect even in the pitch of the night, and not once had something moved inside the caravan.
The snores that vibrated the surrounding metal were louder as Danton carefully opened the door, the lock already broken. There was damage inside, more so than when he had last visited. The table had been split in two, colourful pictures ripped from the walls and a blanket had been shredded. Alcohol was a heavy fume, soaking the floor as well as the old ratty armchair where Robert Maya peacefully slept.
With one kick the armchair shot backwards, and Robert’s startled cry was music to Danton’s ears. “Get up!”
“What the fuck!” Robert steadied himself, his mouth twisted as a vicious snarl trembled his chest. “You stupid prick!”
“Where is she?” The words came out cold, clipped.
“This is your fault!” Robert shot back, his hand brushing through his overgrown greasy hair. “You only bring trouble!”
Danton fisted his hand to stop from attacking. “Robert, where is Rose?”
Robert reached for an open bottle, swigging the heavily scented brown liquid. “Your friend left a note. It’s over there,” he said as he gestured to the piece of paper pinned to the wall.
Danton should have noticed it, the oversight frustrating as he memorised the address written in a neat scrawl. “How long ago?”
“What?”
“How long ago did someone deliver that fucking note?” Danton growled. “Hours? Days? Why didn’t you stop them?”
Robert laughed, the sound on the edge of hysteria. “What? Stop a vampire? What did you expect me to do?”
Danton hit the wall, his fist going through the solid metal. “Everything! You were supposed to do everything to keep her safe!”
Robert gripped his bottle tighter, squaring his shoulders. “Do not talk to me about my own fucking daughter!”
Danton’s smile was carefully calculated, as was the slight tilt of his head. His fangs pulsed, the carnal urge to feed, to rip and shred. “Don’t give me some bullshit like you care. You've never treated her like your daughter, just someone who will clear up your mess.”
The bottle shot across the room, the thick glass missing as Danton blurred across the small distance.
“Fuck you!” Robert’s words were gurgled against the heavy weight against his chest.
Danton concentrated on calming his rage, the delicious scent of fresh blood fragrant as Robert’s head connected with the wall. The old man didn’t even struggle against the grip, his own breathing a heavy pant.
Danton’s words were quiet, controlled as he leaned forward and Robert’s pulse became a tempting rabbit. “You don’t deserve to be called her father.”
“She cried when you left.”
Danton stepped back, jaw rigid.
“Do you not think she would have told me?” Robert smirked, his teeth crooked as blood dripped from within his hairline. “That girl doesn’t cry, she didn’t even cry when her mum passed and yet she was distraught when you just disappeared.”
Danton opened the door, stepping out into the night. “Be a father, not a parasite. Get sober and pay your debts. Elle mérite mieux.”
“I don’t know what's going on between you two but it's your fault she's at risk.” Robert’s manic laugh echoed behind him. “And It will be your fault if she's dead.”
CHAPTER 11
Rose opened her eyes to slits, keeping her breathing slow and steady. Cold metal surrounded her on all sides, the thick bars keeping her confined, low. She was in a cage, one clearly designed for shifters if she went by the burning sensation across her skin. The bars were solid silver, and while silver wouldn’t kill her, the sensitivity to the metal made it increasingly uncomfortable.
“I know you’re awake,” Matt chuckled, his voice only a few inches from her side. “Your heartrate spiked. Boom, boom. Boom, boom.”
Rose remained silent, her ears straining to pick up any other sounds in the open room. Water dripped somewhere close, the persistent droplets background noise as well as a low rumble that came in intervals. A train? A car? She wasn’t sure.
“Get up!” A clang, the metal vibrating around her.
Rose slowly sat up, pulling her legs towards her chest as her head touched the bars above. The space was tight, especially as her cage had been placed with no protection at her back. She kept herself in the centre, her eyes tracking Matt as he began to pace. She had no weapons, her knives and gun missing. But Matt had some of his own.
The air was stale, a breeze curling around her legs from one of the broken windows opposite. It was still dark, which meant she hadn’t been out long and that she was still in the city.
“My father?” she asked, her voice raspy. There was no familiar scent other than copper, which meant he wasn’t in the warehouse, one derelict and abandoned if she went by the dust, grime and wood precariously nailed to the door. But someone else was in the room with them, someone dead.
Matt stopped, his movements a blur as he suddenly crouched beside her. “You should probably thank your father, without him I wouldn’t have been able to get you to follow me without a scene.” He gripped the bars so hard they creaked, his stare uncomfortable as a slow smile curved his lips. “Made knocking you out a lot easier without an audience, don’t you agree?”
“Fuck you!”
“Such language from a woman.” He knocked against the bars. “Now tell me, or I will go back and slice your father’s throat. How well do you know The Soldier?”
Rose controlled her flinch, her panther eager to break free and tear the Italian limb from limb. She swallowed the overwhelming urge to shift into her stronger shape, because if she did she wouldn’t be able to communicate in her feline form. But somehow, she doubted she would be able to talk herself out of this situation.
“Have you heard of that name?” he continued when she said nothing. “The Soldier, The Mistress’s puppet.” He released the bars, his fingers imprinted into the metal but didn’t step back.
“No,” she said, keeping her voice even. “I haven’t heard of that name.” At least, she hadn’t until the rumours that spread through The Tower. There were a few vampire Paladins in the London district, and it was them that whispered of The Soldier, a hunter with the reputation for death. Vampires weren’t exactly common, with only fifteen percent of the world’s population. They had a very small success rate, and before protocol came into place to test humans many died in the transition.
The Vamps at The Tower hadn’t realised it was Danton either, his easy-going smile and flirtatious personality nothing like what anyone expected of the vampire bogeyman.
“I hope you realise your pulse changes when you lie.”
“It’s not a lie, I didn’t know Danton was The Soldier.” Rose licked her dry lips, trying to figure out a plan. Her attention settled on the metal bars, solid and straight except for the ones Matt had gripped. She couldn’t do anything while trapped in the cage, she needed to get out. “Why am I here? He’s nothing to me…”
“Another lie!”
“Okay, okay he was something to me.” She tried to calm her pulse, her gut twisted into knots. “He was my partner, another Paladin. But that was before he betrayed me, betrayed Supernatural Intelligence. He fucked me over.”
A dark chuckle. “Danton has no friends, no one he loves. He can’t have any weaknesses, so I was surprised when I found pictures of you, hidden inside a little box. As if they were a secret.” He moved closer, his weight balanced on the balls of his feet. “It was easy enough to figure out who you were, where you met, and then even easier to track your whereabouts. Your boss really needs to speak quieter on the phone.”
Rose paused, thoughts racing and yet she kept her face carefully composed. “I don’t know why he had pictures, we mean nothing to each other. He doesn’t care about me.”
“Another lie!” he snapped, his hand crashing into one of the bars.
It created a bend, one where she could easily pass her arm through, but nothing else.
“But it doesn’t matter, because vampires are incredibly territorial with their toys. It won’t be long before he can’t control his primal instincts to track you down and claim what is his.”
“You’re going to look like a real moron when he doesn’t show.”
It was the first time she saw doubt, Matt’s brows pinching and his jaw clenched.
Think! she thought to herself. I need to get out this fucking cage.
“Why do you hate him so much?” she asked, hoping to rile him up enough he knocked the bars again. “What did he do to you?”
Matt froze, so still that not even a muscle twitched. “He killed my master.”
“Your master was clearly weak.”
His brows tightened, fangs growing until they pierced his bottom lip. “Careful,” he warned.
She slowly moved closer, her claws piercing through the tips of her fingers. “Are you just as weak, Matt?”
“I think I’ll enjoy killing you,” he said with a laugh. “Or maybe I’ll drag it out, pin Danton to the wall and let him watch as I torture and fuck his little toy.”
“Clearly you are,” she continued, ignoring his words. “Because you have me locked in a silver cage rather than out there with you.”
“You think you can take me on? You’re nothing but an airhead with long legs.” A crooked smile, his eyes dipping to said legs. “Maybe that’s why he’s interested.”
Rose moved just a little closer. “Yeah, well this airhead has claws.” Her hand shot through the gap, claws tearing down his face with a quick flick of the wrist. She had expected him to react, his speed and strength snapping several of her fingers as she tried to tug it back. She held back her cry, gritting her teeth as he slowly healed the deep scratches that she tried to blind him.
“Vai a farti fottere, puttana!” Another bar moved, opening the gap further. “You’re going to pay for that!” he seethed, his left eye swollen closed.
Rose smirked, happy she hurt him even a little. “Fight me like a real man.” Her fingers hurt, the pain resonating up through her arm. If she didn’t shift soon she risked permanent damage. But she refused to die in a cage like an animal. “Or are you scared? Just like your master was.”
The bars disappeared, and suddenly hands were around her throat, her breaths coming in gasps as black invaded her vision. Her free hand pierced up under his ribs, claws digging and shredding as she searched for his heart.
*.*.*.*.*
* * *
Danton moved through the darkness, chasing the shadows that wrapped around him like an invisibility cloak. He was silent as he forced his legs to move faster, the surrounding buildings vacant, empty other than the one he needed. The address was deep within an industrial area long ago abandoned, the surrounding chain-link fences broken and vandalised.
He needed to move, force himself faster as the streetlights blurred into a single line in his vison.
She’s strong! He told himself. Not just a panther, but a jaguar!
He had personally trained her, knew she could take down men three times her size. Except Danton knew it wasn’t simply a man, it was a vampire who held her captive. All because of him.
Merde!
He had many enemies now that his face was known, which meant he was going into the situation with zero advantage.
A warmth in his chest, a feeling of direction. He shouldn’t be able to sense her even though he’d taken her blood, that ability not something he possessed. Yet he changed direction, the lights brightening in one warehouse in the distance.
There would be no stealth, no finesse like he usually worked. There was only one option, rage pushing him harder as he launched himself through a partially covered window, the glass bouncing off as he focused on Rose being held by her throat, her hand inside the man’s chest cavity. Danton’s feet hadn’t even landed before the man’s eyes widened.
Fear. Now that was something Danton was familiar with.
Rose was thrown, her breathing rapid but alive as he forced himself to pay attention to the threat. “Bonjour, Matteo,” he greeted, the words slightly garbled through elongated fangs. “I assumed you were dead.” It was an assumption he would never make again.
Matteo’s fear quickly disappeared, his spine straightening as a bang triggered. Danton didn’t feel the bullet as it penetrated his chest, missing his heart by a bare inch as he tackled Matteo. The bullet had been wooden, surrounded in metal and had luckily gone clean through. It wouldn’t slow him down.
“I’ve lost everything because of you and your Mistress!” Matteo snarled, his punches coming rapidly. “I’m going to take everything from you.” He pulled a knife.
