21 Shades of Night, page 296
If Dahlia’s out of the picture and Keir’s interested in some fun, here’s my chance. Get this mission over with, return to Darius, and pray Darius keeps his words this time. I draw a deep breath, adjust my neckline lower, and wait for Keir to turn back. This never fails with demons; induce lust and blind them to what’s about to happen and… dagger out, job done.
“Okay, the truth. I saw you in the hallway and I had to meet you. Sorry if that sounds lame but you’re an attractive guy.”
I wait for the Keir reaction I’d expect—a blush and averted gaze. Instead, he sets the cue next to the pool table and rests his hand a few centimetres from mine. “Really? You’re not backwards at coming forwards are you?”
I shake my hair over one shoulder. “I’m up front about what I want. I don’t hang around for weeks waiting.”
“And do you normally get what you want?” he asks in a low voice.
I look at him from under my lashes, summoning a seductive smile. “Yes.”
Keir holds his head closer, hair brushing my face. “Do you think you’ll get me?”
Heart quickening, I step back. With his change in personality, Keir’s height and bulk seem magnified, and not only in a threatening way. I’m pulled into staying close, the energy around him seductive. A smile plays around the corners of Keir’s mouth and he moves his hand to mine, touching my fingers. “Let’s go for a walk and a talk. I think we need to.”
How the hell is this the blushing guy from the library? Does Dahlia use some kind of mind control on him, and when she leaves his Nephilim side breaks free?
No, this is deliberate. Does he know? Can he sense me in a way demons rarely can?
“Let’s take a walk, Ava,” he says and grabs his jacket.
Illuminated by spotlights, the main college building overshadows the grounds as we walk through the evening. I walk tall, head high but inside, the unfamiliar lack of control triggers a fear I haven’t felt since training. Keir halts by a fountain and sits on the stone bench, then indicates I join him.
“Dahlia warned me about you,” he says, stretching his long legs out.
“Warned you?”
“Yeah, she said girls like you suck the living soul from people.” He pauses. “What do you think she meant?”
Each word and every undertone pulls away more layers of confidence. He knows. “That she’s jealous?”
“Our relationship is purely a friendship based on common interests.”
I shift away from him, and flick a fingernail against my teeth. The water from the fountain trickles over the marble, the sound mingling with distant voices across campus.
“We knew you were coming before you arrived; Dahlia wanted to stop you, but I wanted to meet you. I’m glad I did.” Keir’s tone hardens as he moves closer.
A shiver launches down my spine. “You’re not as shy as you pretend are you?”
“I don’t like attracting attention to myself, and I don’t want Dahlia interfering.”
“Interfering in what?”
“It’s better if she thinks I have no interest in you. I want to get to know you, before something happens.” Keir lowers his voice “Beautiful girls keep appearing in my life before they disappear again.”
My pulse rate picks up at his words. The electric sensation from his touch now charges the tiny space between us, drawing me in. I expected to sense the demon in Keir’s energy when we moved closer, but he’s the one closing in on me. Is this the Nephilim power? His strange mix of demon, angel, and human takes Keir far beyond any prey I’ve targeted before.
“How many girls have there been?” I ask.
“A few. They don’t stay around long though. Thanks to Dahlia.”
The evening takes another insane direction and I scramble to take this information into my already messed up head. Dahlia is responsible for the other soul hunters failing? Human Dahlia? How can she? How many more people on this campus aren’t what they seem?
I stand, maintaining the casual persona drifting out of my grasp. The back of my neck prickles at the awareness of Keir standing too. Keeping my back to him is dangerous, but I don’t want to look into his eyes.
What choice do I have?
Keir’s eyes shine in the evening dim; the violet at the edge of his irises illuminated in the darkness. The hypnotic effect interferes with my confidence as the certainty I’ll succeed wavers. Unable to hold the intensity, I cast my eyes downwards and clench my teeth. This is my technique: deceiving and teasing, pulling in my targets the way I’ve honed through the years. But not this time. Not only is he switching on the Nephilim potency, but also Keir’s intent is clear. He’s aware of what I’m doing, and prepared to match me.
Clever Nephilim boy.
Keir lifts a hand and I freeze, as if I’m the mouse, not Dahlia; prey he’s toying with. He rubs his thumb across my lips and I turn my face away; people don’t touch me unless I invite them. I lift my gaze back to his, determined not to let him get the upper hand.
A smile curves across his full mouth and he strokes my cheek with the back of his hand. This time I jerk away as the sensation sparks across my skin. Looking back into his intense eyes was a mistake as I’m overwhelmed with the urge to put my lips on his. I look back at the fountain, and focus again on the sound of the water trickling over the smooth marble. Is this how Nephilim steal human souls?
Keir steps closer. “You can read every word of your book of secrets,” he whispers, breath caressing my skin, “but you won’t find me in there.”
The fountain lurches sideways and I struggle for breath. Keep looking at him; don’t let him win.
His expression mirrors my desire, his weakness surfacing too. But the warning in his words and tone scare me.
No. Run.
I fight the Ava who’d launch herself at Keir, grab him by his dark hair, and pull his face to hers. Kisses are the first step to gaining trust, to letting a victim think I’m weak. Betrayal and my target’s death follow closely after, but my routine could never apply here. For the first time, my control as a soul hunter slips.
I back up, not ready to fight. I didn’t bring the crystal tonight—or a weapon. Tonight was supposed to be a reconnaissance, not a battle.
We don’t speak again and don’t need to.
The unspoken understanding of who we are sets into motion the inevitable. Not here. Not now. But one of us will die.
Chapter 3
DEHLIA HOVERS AROUND Keir like a guardian angel and my amusement at the irony morphs into frustration as the days pass. Does Dahlia know she’s crushing on a demon? Two weeks since my encounter with Keir by the fountain, and no progress. Because of Dahlia.
Another day, another lunch. I chew on my sandwich, boots resting on the chair opposite, as I watch the people chattering around. Human inanity never ceases to amaze me. Two guys at the next table hunch over their food, shovelling chips into their mouths and studying their phones. Across from them, a trio of girls pick delicately at their salads, focused on their phones too. Students steer clear of me, regarding me with either curiosity or indifference. My involvement in campus life is zero as I regroup and focus on my purpose—Keir.
Plus getting past Dahlia. Who would’ve known dealing with a human, and one as small and weak would involve as much energy as stalking a horde of demons through Berlin last month? I worm my way into Dahlia’s life, pleading forgetfulness and asking her for help with studying. Sucking up to and nagging her until she agrees leaves a bad taste in my mouth. She told me she’s only helping because Keir asked her too, and behind my nonchalance was surprise. Dahlia’s sour face gave me a sense of triumph although long hours with her in the confines of the library bored the hell out of me.
The reason for the pain I’m subjecting myself to barely shows his face. We haven’t spoken since that evening and Keir ensures he’s never alone with me. Sometimes when we’re in class, I catch his glacial eyes trained on me, his face inscrutable, and my cheeks burn. This involuntary action pisses me off, as does the little smile he gives himself when he looks away again.
I look up as a tray of food lands on the table, followed by Dahlia sitting down and unscrewing a bottle of water. Mouse Girl chose to wear black today, like most days, not a good colour against her pallid skin.
“Hey, Dahlia, where’s Keir?”
“I think he’s joining us today.”
“Well, this is a pleasant surprise then.”
Dahlia unwraps her sandwich. “Why?”
“I didn’t think you liked me and you chose to sit with me rather than over there.” I point at an empty table across the cafeteria.
“No point, he’ll want to sit with you anyway.” Dahlia sits stiffly, picking salad from her sandwich.
“Can’t imagine why, he hardly ever looks at me.”
“And I have no idea why he wants anything to do with you.” Dahlia dumps tomato onto her plate.
Omigod, she’s eating a cheese sandwich. I battle to keep the smirk from my face. Mouse Girl likes cheese. But is this awkward girl sitting with me really a mouse girl or as deceptive as her friend? Keir told me Dahlia knew I was on my way, and that Dahlia stops soul hunters touching him. How the hell does she manage to?
“What is it with you two?” I ask.
“What?”
“Always together but not a couple. Kind of weird.”
“You don’t believe in platonic friendships?” She bites into her sandwich and I catch a hint of the smug that creeps in when I ask about him spending time with her.
“Not when the guy’s as drop dead gorgeous as Keir.”
Dahlia’s face darkens. “I’m not his type. And neither are you.”
Unable to resist, I shift closer to Dahlia and lower my voice. “That’s not the impression Keir gave me when we were alone.”
The sandwich drops from Dahlia’s hands onto her tray, sending salad spilling over the edge. “You’re lying,” she exclaims. “He doesn’t like you.”
“Really? Jealous?”
Dahlia gives a short laugh. “Absolutely not. But you keep away from him.”
“That’s not so hard when you’re permanently attached to him,” I retort.
Dahlia leans across the table. “Exactly.” The challenge in her voice amuses me.
“For now.”
Keir pushes through the cafeteria door, and appreciative looks from the girls sitting near the doorway follow him across the room to us. Keir’s pale T-shirt is damp across his broad chest, and a sheen of sweat covers his forehead, his cheeks red.
“Hey,” he says as he slides into the chair next to Dahlia.
“Been working out? You could’ve showered first,” I say.
Perspiration oils his sinewy forearms, and I trail a look along them to heavy biceps. His Nephilim eyes meet mine for the briefest moment. “No, I haven’t.”
My stomach flips. Does Keir know the effect it has when he looks at me? Probably, and I hope he thinks it’s fear of him.
“Everything okay?” asks Dahlia, putting her hand on his. I grit my teeth when Keir doesn’t move.
“Yes.”
Dahlia passes him a second bottle from her tray.
“Thanks.”
What the hell is their deal? Keir wipes an arm across his face, mops his forehead with his sleeve, and Dahlia pulls a textbook from her bag. Both resolutely ignore me. I wait for a hint about where Keir was and drum my fingers on the table, hoping to irritate Dahlia enough for a response.
No effect.
“Well, it’s been a pleasure, as always,” I say and stand, pushing my bag under the table with my boot before stomping away. Neither looks at me. Rude. Which is priceless coming from me, Queen of the Impolite.
Outside the cafeteria, I watch through the doors’ circular windows. Students leaving for class push through and past me as I refuse to leave my vantage point. Keir’s arrival looking like he’d run a marathon has to be a topic of conversation for him and Dahlia.
Dahlia closes the book and places it in her bag, glancing around. The shiny Formica tables in the cafeteria are empty, apart from the group of texting girls and canteen staff unenthusiastically clearing half-empty trays. Dahlia pulls out her laptop and flips open the lid, pointing at the screen. Keir leans forward, crosses his arms over his chest, his features hardening.
Once they’re engrossed, I head back inside.
Big boots do not lend themselves to sneaking. Perfect for kicking demons to the floor, useless for creeping around a squeaky floor. The pairs’ focus remains on their conversation, and they pay no attention to the world around them. Will Keir sense me before I’m close enough to hear something? I pause near a tall, uniformed lady clearing a table and catch a snippet of Dahlia and Keir’s conversation.
“That’s another one—they seem to be converging here,” says Dahlia, finger on the screen.
“So we deal with—” Keir’s head snaps up and he looks directly at me, setting his mouth in a hard line. This is the Keir I met by the fountain revealed again for the first time; his look a challenge: what the hell do you think you’re doing and you’ll regret it if you don’t stop.
“Forgot my bag! I’m so dumb sometimes!” Ducking under the table, I grab my backpack. “Sorry, carry on…. If this is about the test tomorrow, can I borrow some notes?” I straighten and smile innocently at Dahlia.
Slamming the laptop shut, Dahlia rests her hand on the lid and glowers. “It’s not about the test. Get lost.”
“Go, Ava,” says Keir in a low voice.
I hold my hands up. “Okay, okay. For fucks sake… what are you? Secret agents?”
Keir’s smile would warm my day if it weren’t so condescending. “You’re funny.”
I look up and reflect his challenge. We’re nowhere near done here.
“Apparently so.” I turn on my heel and head to class; aware two sets of eyes are boring into my back.
* * *
I THROW THE book across the bed. Where’s the information about Dahlia? Dahlia glued to Keir’s side continues to be a big bloody problem; do I need to take her out of the picture? How? Soul hunters killing humans is frowned on but not out of the question. If I kill Dahlia, her death might spur Keir into action and this whole situation could be over with. Sure, Ava. One thing about Nephilim, their earthbound powers rival any superhero’s, and a furious Keir hunting me down to kick seven shades out of me isn’t the best course of action.
So what the hell do I do?
On past assignments, the thrill of chasing demons and the adrenaline surge from fighting were only surpassed by the high of success—a dead creature and captured soul. But this… the fear over trying to catch a Nephilim soul morphs into something else. The task isn’t frightening—it’s excruciatingly boring.
No, I need to be more proactive. Since the weird encounter with Keir, I’ve backed too far away. Look at me procrastinating and brooding all because I’ve hit a stumbling block.
I sit.
What the hell am I doing? Where’s the soul hunter who heads in, takes what she needs, then leaves? Am I seriously allowing my plans to be thrown by a weak human girl?
Get a bloody grip, Ava.
This shit stops now, and if Dahlia needs removing from the situation, it’s done. I grab my phone from the desk and storm out the room.
* * *
THE ODD COUPLES’ daily routine remains the same; keeping track of their movements is simple. Dahlia rigidly follows her schedule and then leaves for her halls. I sit on a bench in the dim and watch the pair walk by the same spot, at the same time, every night, before they disappear into Dahlia’s room. Every night I wait for Keir to reappear. He never does until after I grow bored and leave. Are they engaged in steamy sexual encounters? I smirk to myself. I bet I’m not the only girl on campus who wonders about their relationship. Tall, impossibly gorgeous guy with eyes to drown in and a body to hang onto, somehow enchanted by a plain girl who nobody would notice if she weren’t with him.
Catching him as he leaves Dahlia’s later at night is my opportunity I’ve missed for weeks; I have the element of surprise and wasted so many chances.
The crunch of their footsteps on the fallen autumn leaves alert me. Right on cue, Keir and Dahlia pass me sitting on the bench, pretending to study my phone. Keir must suspect; they’ve seen me every day this week. As usual, Dahlia ignores me, despite my cheery hello. Keir doesn’t look at me, talking to Dahlia in an insistent voice.
Unable to catch his eye and intrigued by Keir’s tense attitude, I set the timer on my phone for an hour, lean back and listen to music. Tonight’s the night. Do or die.
An hour later, I cross to the halls and head down the tiled hallway. Locating Dahlia’s room, I bang on the door.
No answer. I check the carefully written name glued to the frame. Dahlia Jameson. Right room. I pull at the door handle but it doesn’t budge and no light filters under the door. They haven’t walked back out of the building past me, and I watched the front for an hour. Where the hell did they go? I press my ear to the door. Nothing. How? There’s no other way out; no second exit. Where are they? I flick a look from right to left, checking for others walking down the hallway.
No one.
I root around in my pockets for something to help open the door. A hairpin. I smile at the cliché as I use the pin on the lock. Answers to their secrets have to lie in this room. I turn the handle and step inside, closing the door quietly behind.
Flicking the light switch, a bulb illuminates the room with a soft green glow, shining through the patterned material pinned beneath the light. The length of the wall by the neatly made bed is plastered with maps, print outs, and newspaper cuttings, interspersed with red ribbon and bright yellow Post-it notes. I approach and attempt to decipher what’s in front of me. The random mess makes no sense. The city map has pins inserted into streets; news cuttings depict recent unexplained events with a mixture of disappearances. There’s no connection between anything displayed.
