Dark Seeker (5 page)

“Do you want some water?” He offered her a bottle of water from the fridge.

“No. I mean, yes.” She snatched it from his hand. In the open fridge, he had leftovers wrapped in foil. A clear bowl of washed red grapes sat in a pool of water on the top shelf. “So you don’t live off of human blood.”

“I kept my old demon diet of eating anything I want, which includes blood, if I choose.” He popped a grape in his mouth. She tried to picture demons eating grapes.
Not likely.

“So you don’t want me?”

Kai’s face paled, like someone had punched him in the stomach. For the first time, he looked uncomfortable. She thought he might choke on his grape. This humored her.

“Hmmm, a Seeker’s blood is tempting,” he mused, becoming sardonic again.

“So why don’t you,” she hesitated, “try?” She brushed her hand over the dagger in her waistband.

 
“You really do want to kill me. You’re a persistent little thing.” He smiled.

“I don’t understand you. I’ve been killing your kind for over seven years, and I’ve never met one like you.” She stared into his green eyes. Daychildren had soulless, hollow eyes—not green and full of life. “How long have you been a Daychild?” she said.

He eyed her waist. “I’ll answer you when you take your hand off your blade.”

Janie removed her hand from the hilt and placed it by her side. Feeling nauseous again from her head wound, she supported her weight against the bare kitchen wall.

“It’s been at least eighteen years. I was one of the first demons to be ‘Turned.’” He removed another grape from the bowl and threw it in the air, catching it in his mouth.

“But you killed humans. You still may, for all I know.” She wanted to reach for her dagger again. Her Seeker instinct screamed to take him out. She needed to look past his beautiful exterior at the monster inside. She’d learned how to see through a vampire’s glamour. She just wondered why it was so hard for her to do the same with him.

“Think what you want,” he dismissed. His features hardened, leaving him once again cold and unreadable.

A knock at the door broke their conversation. Instinctively, Janie tried to spread her feet apart in a protective stance, but she couldn’t find her equilibrium. She swayed back into the wall.

“It must be Albania.” Kai slung Janie’s arm over his shoulder and slid her across the floor. “I’ll help you to the couch.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” she said. “It feels more like you’re dragging me.”

They reached the sofa. Janie unhitched her arm from his broad shoulders. “I can do it, thanks.” She shook herself free of him. “You’ll probably just drop me anyway.”

“It’s your call.” He let her go. She collapsed on the leather cushion.

Albania stepped into the house, lighting up the entrance. Bright red, green, blue and yellow jewels sparkled from her ears and neck. They trickled down to her wrists and snaked around her ankles and toes. Her fire-red hair spiraled clear down her back. She was dressed in a knee-length body-conforming black dress. It dipped in the front, exposing her cleavage.

Janie checked out her own chest, covered by her T-shirt and zippered hoodie. Not that there was much to look at anyway.

Albania
placed a kiss on Kai’s cheek. He held her hand gently, as if not to break her. A quiet intimacy lingered between them. They regarded each other in a different manner than Kai regarded her—not abrasive, direct and clumsy, but kind. Janie wondered if Kai and Albania were a couple.

“You must be Janie?” Albania left Kai’s gaze and extended her long thin arm. Gold bracelets jangled around her wrist. “Please don’t stand. You’re injured. I will come to you.” Her light green eyes smiled.

“You’re so young and pretty.” Janie sucked in a breath, realizing the words had left her mouth involuntarily.

“She was expecting green skin, warts and a pointed hat—” Kai broke off with a laugh.

“You forgot the broom,” Janie jeered. She looked past Kai, too irritated to meet his sarcastic expression.

“She’s feisty. I like her,” Albania said. “And my broom’s outside. How else would I have gotten here?”

Janie laughed, not sure if Albania was joking. Vampires and Daychildren, she could do. Witches were a whole new territory.

“Now let me see your head.” Albania skirted the table and gently placed herself next to Janie on the couch. She smelled of citrus, as if she’d just rolled around in a barrel of oranges. “This might hurt a bit.”

Albania
gently separated the hair along her scalp. Janie winced.

“Sorry, dear,” Albania said.

“What do you think?” Kai peered over Albania.

“I can get that out,” Albania assured him.

Janie moved from Albania’s grasp and glared at Kai. “Get what out? I thought you said I needed stitches.”

“You will, as soon as she gets the demon splint out of your skull,” he said.

“The what?” Janie’s eyes rolled into the back of her head. She imagined a stake sticking out of her skull.
I surely would feel that.
“I have wood sticking out of my head?” she said, on the cusp of passing out.

“It’s worse than that,” Kai said. “I would have just taken you to the hospital for a stake in your head.” He winked at Albania. “And let Albania sleep.”

“Worse?” Janie swallowed repeatedly to moisten her dry throat. “My fingers feel numb.”

“It’s an effect of the poison,” Albania said. She rolled a leaf into a ball and dipped it into some kind of citrus-scented oil. “This may sting for a second, but this should soak up the poison after I’ve removed the splint.”

Janie bit down and tasted the blood from her split lip. Kai held her head tightly while Albania dug around in her skull. Janie’s dinner rose into her throat. She was a Seeker—tough. But this was different. The poison burned, and her insides felt as if they were on fire. She heard a rip and a tug, and then everything went black.

Janie woke in a strange bed. She lay under black satin sheets on top of fluffy pillows. The sheets were warm and soft. Her legs slid across them, as slick as an ice-skating rink.
Legs!
She sprung upright and immediately remembered the splint. She grabbed her head, spreading her fingers out in her hairline, but there was nothing there, not even a bump to indicate a scar. And the searing pain was gone. Her nausea and numbness had also dissipated.

Remembering her bare legs, she lifted the sheet and peered down.
Where are my jeans?
She felt slightly panicked. She was clothed in a deep maroon tee. The color of dried human blood. It smelled like clean lavender.

“You’re up.” Kai poked his head in the door of the white bedroom with bare walls. There was a black dresser across the room. A flat screen hung on the wall over a stack of DVDs. “I thought I heard you.”

“Where am I?” She gripped the satin in her fists. “And where are my clothes?”

“Let’s start with question number one.” He strode over to the closet wearing only a towel. “You’re in my room.” He put his hand in the air. “Before you get your panties in a bunch, I didn’t undress you. Albania did. She thought you’d be more comfortable that way.”

“That was nice of her. Please thank her for healing me.” Janie flipped her legs over the side of the bed, so they dangled in the air. “Where did you sleep?” His eyes stayed on her bare legs longer than she would have liked. She felt uncomfortable.

“Downstairs, on the couch.” He retrieved a fresh T-shirt from his closet and slid it over his head. “I’ll put my jeans on in the bathroom.”

“Thanks.” She tried to look away, but his towel dipped below his abs, exposing the V-shape swimmers have. She redirected her attention. “S—so what’s a demon splint, other than a thin piece of wood?”

“It’s something demons use to inject poison into their victims.” He placed a black leather band around his wrist.

“Humans?”

“Usually.”

“Why do Daychildren have them? I’ve never seen one. They usually just fight me with their speed, strength, and in some cases, abilities. I rarely see them with tangible weapons,” she said.

“A demon brought them up from the demon community. They’re made of wood. Since Daychildren can’t touch silver without getting burned, they took a liking to this kind of weapon. Unfortunately, now the Daychildren know how to make their own poison. It’s lethal to humans. You would have been dead within hours.”

Janie straightened her spine, wide-eyed and outraged. “And you were just going to let me ride the bus home with a poisonous demon splint in my head?”

“You came in, so I didn’t have to consider it,” he said.

Janie sank into thought. “What is your last name?”

“Why?” He stood in front of the mirrored closet doors and ran his hands through his wet, highlighted hair, placing each platinum strip in its proper location.

“I’m just curious.”

“Sterdam.”

“Kai Sterdam,” she repeated.

Janie checked her watch. “Crap—it’s three—in the afternoon.” She jumped to the floor.

“You were tired, effects of the poison.”

“I missed a whole day of school, and my mom, she’s got to be worried sick.” She fumbled around, looking for her things.

“Just think about how she’s going to feel when you tell her you stayed with a Daychild,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “Where are my clothes? Can you drive me home?”

He pointed. “Albania folded them on the dresser.” Kai removed a pair of jeans from a drawer and exited the room. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Janie retrieved her phone from the nightstand and called her mom.

When she opened the front door, the sun battered her in the face. It felt as if she’d been asleep for days. It was chilly, but the blue sky helped soften the bite. In the daylight, Kai’s neighborhood seemed friendly enough. Kids rode their bikes up and down the sidewalks, and teenagers and adults sat on their porches and lined the entrance steps to their homes.

“Are you ready?” Kai appeared at the base of the staircase.

“Where’s your bike?” she said.

“Out back.” He waved for her to follow.

They exited through an unfinished basement. Nothing but concrete, wooden beams and exposed wires. She did notice a washing machine and dryer. Kai opened the sliding glass door for her. She stepped onto a compact paver patio. It extended into a small patch of grass. A tall wooden privacy fence outlined the small yard.

Not even a bush or a potted plant surrounded the patio.
 
“I still don’t see your bike.”

Kai removed the metal disk from his pocket and threw it back into the air. Like before, a motorcycle formed and glided toward the ground. The rubber tires bounced onto the stone pavers.

“Why didn’t you just leave it parked on the street like everyone else?”

“Not in this neighborhood.” He lifted the kickstand and hopped on.

“If I didn’t need to get home, I would ask you again how a thin metal disk turns into a Harley.”

“I’ll be anticipating that question, then.” He threw her a helmet.

She caught it and held it between her palms. “Pink? This helmet’s different from last night’s.”

“I had to get another. You dropped the other one in the city.” He didn’t seem as annoyed as she had expected.

“Why pink?”

“Don’t human girls like pink?” Janie stared at him. “Okay, next time, I’ll go with black.”

She nodded.
There won’t be a next time.

She placed the helmet on her head and threw a leg over the side of the bike. She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned forward, hugging his back and interlocking her fingers. “Ready,” she said. “One question—how are we going to get out of your yard with the fence?”

Kai removed a small knife from a hidden compartment on the bike. He raised his arm and flung the knife forward with full force in the direction of a double gate. It lodged in the lock, flipping the metal latch open. The double doors swung out. The engine roared to life and the bike lurched forward. They slipped out of the gate, veering left into an alley, and exited on to the street.

Janie’s house was located in a quiet suburban neighborhood in Towson, only a few streets away from school. They drove down her cul-de-sac. She pointed to her driveway. A white two-story Colonial with black shutters and a red door sat squarely on about a quarter acre. Its wraparound porch made the three-bedroom home appear larger. She smiled. Her dark blue Honda Civic waited for her in the driveway.

“Who’s that?” Kai said.

“That’s my car. The one I tried to hit you with. It had to be fixed.” A familiar silver Acura sat across the street, parked in front of Ava’s car.

“No, not what’s that, who’s that?” Kai said, louder this time.

Janie’s eyes slid over to her porch. Then she realized. It
was
his Acura across the street. “Oh—that’s Matt,” she said.
What’s he doing here?

“Is he your boyfriend?”

“No!”