Eventide: The Dark Ink Chronicles (9 page)

My eyes focus on Riggs. “What do you mean?” I ask.

Riggs shrugs, and the light from a nearby post gleams off his dark hair. “He’s run around the industrial park twice looking for you.”

Shooting a quick glance left and right, I turn my gaze back to Riggs. Confusion muddles my brain. “I…was right here all along.”

Riggs walks closer and peers at me with a questioning look. “You okay, babe?” he says, ducking his head and inspecting my face. “You look kinda funny.”

I feel a little spacey, light-headed, but I don’t confess it. “Yeah, you always look kinda funny. Where’s Eli?”

“Where’ve you been?” Eli says, suddenly beside me.

I look up into his penetrating stare. In the darkness
his eyes all but glow. “Thought I saw something. I came right back here.”

As if weighing my words, Eli studies me. Concern pinches his brows together and it’s a look that happens more frequently now. “You didn’t see anything then?” he asks.

“No.” I don’t know what I saw. Everything is a blur to me now.

Eli pulls me against him with one arm and presses his lips to my temple. “Let’s go,” he says quietly. “It’ll be dawn soon.” His cell vibrates, and he pulls it out of his pocket and lifts it to his ear. “Yeah. We were just leaving. Be there in fifteen.”

With a quick glance at Riggs, then me, Eli takes off. We both fall in behind him. Crossing Highway 21 at the side exit of the industrial park, we slip behind an old run-down oil and lube and hit the woods behind it. We reach the train yard within minutes, find the Jeep and climb in. Eli drives. From my peripheral vision, I can see he silently watches me. I know he’s worried—I am too. I feel like something’s missing, as if I fell asleep and woke up hours later. As we pull onto the service road, I rest my head and stare at the scenery as it flashes by. Quickly, we make our way to Bay Street, then hit Whitaker and take the squares slowly. We see nothing out of the ordinary. When Eli pulls into a parking space next to Forsyth Park, the others are there, waiting. The
sun is a thin golden crack, edging through the clouds overhead, and the light surrounding us is hazy. A slight mist hangs low to the ground. Riggs leaps from the back seat over the edge of the Jeep. I use the door.

Seth immediately comes to me. “You okay?” he asks, carefully watching me, inspecting my face, my eyes.

“I’m fine, bro,” I lie. “Glad the night’s over though. I’m exhausted.”

He nods and drapes an arm over my shoulder. “I think I could eat fifty Krystals by myself.”

I glance sideways at him. “That has nothing to do with your tendencies, Seth Poe. You could manage that before.”

My brother grins at me, and just seeing his warm, smiling face settles me somewhat.

“Anything unusual?” Phin asks. He’s talking to Eli, but looking at me.

“Just your average cocky newlings,” Eli responds. “Mostly male, a few females. All youth.”

“Same with us,” Luc says, and moves to stand next to me. “Zetty nearly got his ass beaten by a female.”

I glance at Zetty. He merely growls.

“There’s a place down on the Vernon,” Josie says, leaning against Phin’s truck. She has her hair pulled back into a single braid. “Don’t forget about that.”

“That’s right,” Phin says. The hazy early-morning light blends with the porcelain smoothness of his perfect
features, which stand in contrast to the darkened area on his jaw that would be a beard, if he let it grow out. “An old dock house. Pretty big. Looks like several have been staying there.”

“I could smell them,” Josie says, and squinches her nose. “Newlings stink.” She regards me silently, her mouth tilts into a grin.

“You should’ve seen Riley,” Riggs brags. “She pulls this wicked-sick leg lock around this newling’s neck.” He throws a proud smile at me. “Kick
ass
.”

“Then you should watch it, worm,” warns Luc, who gives me a wink.

Traffic begins to move more frequently past the park, and Eli walks over to me. “Ready to go?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say, and I mean it. “I’m tired.”

“Later, guys,” Eli says, and we get into the Jeep. Seth walks me around to my side.

“I’ll see ya later, okay?” he says, and gives me a quick hug. “I’m not too tired and we’re going to work on our project for a while.” Seth inclines his head to Josie.

Josie shrugs. “My mother loves to give us school projects. You know, like for science. I think she has us making a volcano soon. And a constellation mobile. I’ve made too many to count in the past but she loves them, even if they sound a little young. I’ve even asked if we can do something cool, like dissect a cow’s eyeball
or something. No go. But we’ll study several things with the microscope.”

I nod. “Sounds good. Catch you guys later,” I say.

We all part ways; Eli and I head back to Inksomnia.

As we drive through Savannah’s squares, even the annoying sounds of traffic—horns blowing, people shouting, and somewhere close by, a jackhammer—none of it is able to keep my eyes open. My lids feel heavy, and they drift shut. The sounds around me, even the wind, extinguish. I vaguely recall my body being lifted and carried indoors. Next thing I know, the world around me is pitch black, and I’m dead to everything except the sound of my sluggish heartbeat.

It’s nighttime, and darkness envelops me. Not just the physical lack of sun, but inside of me is dark, also. As I walk along the sidewalk, it consumes me. I’m like a cat, always on alert to catch something unsuspecting off guard. Play with it for a while. Sink my teeth into it. Kill it.

What? What the hell was that? I stop in midtracks and look around. The street is empty except for the Savannah Yellow Cab that is parked a few blocks away. The oaks loom overhead; the Spanish moss hangs like wispy gray hair, matted and knotty. Shadows surge from the corners of yards and aged brick homes. I like the darkness, and I like the shadows even more. Menace. That’s what I feel. But why?

I begin to move again, slowly up the sidewalk toward the cab. I have no intentions at first; I’m just there, a form of life
moving through shadows, trying to find my way…somewhere. I guess I have no purpose. But the very instant my eyes lock on the red ember of a lit cigarette flame inside the cab, I know. I am fixated on it now. On what’s inside the cab.

The regular thump of the heartbeat of the cab driver resonates in my ears.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

I have purpose. I have intention.

A craving roars inside of me. It takes on a life of its own and I am powerless to stop it. Or, I simply don’t want to. The lines are blurred now. I’m confused. This thing inside of me? It pulses. Breathes.

Possesses.

I move through the shadows now, closer to the parked cab. Closer to the heartbeat. As I sidle up to the passenger side door, I tap on the window with my index finger.

The window rolls down.

“I’m on a break,” the cab driver says with the cigarette clenched in his lips.

I smile and lean down to look at him through the window. My hair falls over my shoulder. “For how long?”

The cab driver’s eyes dart directly to my low-cut shirt, where his gaze lingers on the swell of my breasts. I allow it. Encourage it by taking a few exaggerated deep breaths. Then, he looks at me and grins. “Till now. Hop in.”

I grasp the door handle to the backseat and climb in.

“Where to?” he asks, looking at me through his rearview mirror. A panel of plastic glass separates us.

I shrug casually, lean back against the seat, and lock my eyes with his through the mirror. “Tybee. North Beach.”

Again, he grins. “You got it.” Only now does he flick the cigarette out the window. Then he puts the cab in drive and pulls out onto the street. At Victory, we take a left. We’re both silent until well onto the Island’s Expressway, nearly to North Beach. Silent, but the cab driver’s eyes continuously flicker to the rearview mirror to watch me. Although I’ve looked at him, I can’t tell you what he looks like. I don’t know the color of his eyes, or his skin. I don’t know how old he is. I know only that despite his cigarette smoking, his heart is strong. Damn strong.

We are just cresting the last bridge. The roads are empty, the night moonless. The tide is high, and the pungent scent of brine lingers heavy in the air. I see a side street edging the marsh. “Take a right,” I say.

The cab driver does as I ask. Along the narrow side street he creeps. The road winds around, hugging the marsh and salt water. We’re now at the back of a few rental houses on stilts. They appear to be empty.

“Stop here,” I say as we near one of the stilt houses overlooking the salt water.

“Nineteen sixty-five,” he says, and half turns in his seat to stare at me. “Long drive from Victory.” Again, his eyes drift to my breasts and linger.

“I’ve got it right here,” I say, and then use the power of seduction. I scoot back against the seat, my chest heaving out
of my shirt and the cab driver’s eyes glued to it as though he’d never laid eyes on boobs before. Slowly, I ease my fingers to the opening of my shirt, the cabbie all but slobbering on himself. So engrossed with my fingers fumbling so close to my breasts to retrieve what he thinks is cab fare that he doesn’t see what’s really coming. The panel of plastic glass that separates us shatters as I lift my leg and slam my heel against it. The cabbie stares at me in shock, mouth open. With one arm I grab him by his shirt collar and yank him over the seat, right through the remaining shards of plastic glass. In the backseat I straddle him, and for a split second, his eyes lock onto mine and smolder. His cock hardens beneath me, and I almost laugh. The fucker thinks he’s gonna get laid.

That thing inside of me is free now. My eyes close, my body convulses, but only for a couple of seconds. When next I open my eyes, I see nothing, I feel nothing. I hear only the heartbeat. The sound of blood coursing through veins. It beckons me, unleashes my craving. In one fluid motion I tear away the thin layer of his shirt, and I lunge at his chest. My teeth break through skin, bone, muscle, until I feel a pop, and warm liquid settles against my tongue. I’m in a feeding frenzy now, and the man’s high-pitched screams barely break through my focus.

Those screams are quickly extinguished.

My thirst is finally quenched.

Grabbing his discarded and shredded shirt, I wipe my
mouth, my face, and climb off of him. Easing out of the cab, I leave the door open and begin to jog up the winding street hugging the marsh. At the bridge, I break into a run. The briny air whips at my face and hair as my speed picks up to an inhuman pace. That suits me. I’m no longer human anyway, so why fuck with human qualities? I can run like the fucking wind. And I do.

As I grow close to Victory Drive, I slow to a boring human pace. My insides soar; a strength I never knew could exist trembles within me. I feel good! Alive! With a quick glance at the oncoming traffic—minimal at this hour but there is a small trail of cars—I hurry across the street and slow to a walk on the sidewalk. Just as I reach the next block, I’m grabbed. A hand encircles my upper arm and I’m yanked to a halt…

“Riley. Wake up.” A hand on my upper arm shakes me.

The voice is muffled, and far, far away. I ignore it, shrug off the hand. Exhaustion tugs me under and away from the voice. Am I asleep or walking along a sidewalk? Either way, I want to stay where I am. Not…with this voice.

“Riley!” This time, the voice and hand speak and shake more violently.

“What?” I say grumpily, and crack my eyes open. It takes a few seconds for my vision and mind to clear. I focus on Eli’s face. My eyes scan the room. My room.
At Inksomnia. Slowly, I push up onto my elbows, then I sit up.

Eli lowers himself onto the edge of the bed. With one hand, he pushes the hair from my face and presses his lips to my forehead. When he pulls back and stares at me, I see concern in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. I feel…dirty. Grungy-dirty, like I need a shower.

Eli’s cerulean blue eyes search mine. “You can’t know how much I hate not being able to read your thoughts,” he says. “What were you just dreaming about? Can you remember?”

“How do you know I was dreaming?” I ask, and let my brain settle on before. While I was asleep.

“You were thrashing around, mumbling,” he says, and laces his fingers with mine. “Your voice—it didn’t even sound like yours, Ri.”

I look at Eli, and we study each other for several seconds. I’m not sure I’ll ever get over how beautiful Eli is. Dark wavy hair sweeps over his forehead, and those blue eyes lock with mine. A strong jaw dusted with dark shade against flawless skin. Perfect facial structure. Perfect
period
. I exhale, and lean my head back. “All I can remember is walking along a sidewalk. It was dark outside, and I was alone. Then”—I look at him again—“someone grabs me from the darkness, and I wake up. Here, with you. Grabbing me.”

Eli’s stare is intense and bores into me. His gaze drifts to the black angel wings at the corner of my cheek bone. Tracing it lightly with his fingertip, he watches his own movement. Involuntarily, I shiver at the intimacy. Then his eyes return to mine. “I’m worried about you.”

Unable to break his stare, I nod. “Yeah. I know. But honestly, Eli. I’m fine. I can handle myself and you know it.” I glance at my arms, and at the dragon scales inked there. “I”—pasting on a comforting smile, I glance up at him—“have the DNA of not one but two strigoi vampires, plus my own crazy blood. I’m good. Damaged though I might be, I can handle myself perfectly fine, Dupré, so stop worrying so much.” I punch his arm. “You know, not to brag or anything, but I was a bad little ass before I met you. Before all of”—I wave my hand in the air—“this. So chill.” I lean over and give him a quick peck on the lips. “I mean it.” I move to leave.

Eli’s fast, and his arm binds my body against him. His profound blue stare nearly makes my heart stop. He studies me, searches my eyes as if trying to see inside my head, my soul. Pulling me to him, he presses his lips against mine, urges them to part and kisses me. Thoroughly. I pull away first.