Reaper's Dark Kiss (15 page)

“Your religions talk about fallen angels.” Viper touched the scarlet flames surrounding a burning figure. “Makes it sound like there’s nothing worse than being damned. They’re wrong.”

“Viper—”

He turned to Julian. “I barely got back from a job in Louisiana before dawn. I don’t know where Oracle is. It’s not like I track his phone on GPS.”

Julian gave a guilty start. He recovered enough to ask, “But you can find him?”

“Didn’t you learn anything before I left?” Viper paced through candlelight. “You’re wasting time. Your target’s Vandar. Let me go for him.”

Restless energy swirled around Viper, as if he were destruction on hold, a storm waiting to blow in from hell. He back-flipped through the air and landed a foot away from Julian. “If I make it messy enough and Vandar dies hard enough, Kraeyl will fall in step with the Creed. No warrior would follow him. He doesn’t care whose throat he rips out to get what he wants. Marek’s Dominion troubles would be done.”

Sky didn’t know what was more terrifying. Was it what Viper had said or that Julian was thinking it over? “No,” she said. “I don’t want anyone tortured and killed because of me.”

Julian and Viper turned a hard look on Sky, and just like that, she knew. In that moment there was no mistaking the kill streak that ran through both of them, the way they fought back something furious, deadly, and identical inside them. Sky snapped her gaze from Julian to Viper, then back to Julian. “You didn’t tell me he was your brother.”

“There’s a lot I didn’t tell you yet.” Julian’s tone was apologetic, resigned.

“You”—Sky pointed at Viper—“Julian, Marek. All brothers. What happened? How come you’re not a reaper like Julian?”

“I left the Creed,” Viper said. “Started DMI.”

“DMI?”

“Dead Man, Inc.,” Viper said. “If the price is right, and the target’s good, I take the job. No kids, no females.” He stared at Sky a second before he added, “No librarians.”

“You must like books a lot.” Sky wasn’t sure what else to say to that.

Viper scratched his head, as if his own boundaries puzzled him. “Not much. But I like libraries.”

Julian was a kind of cop in the Shadow World, but Viper was an honest-to-God assassin. As Sky listened to Viper’s story unfold from his own lips, a chill went through her. He’d left the Creed, but he wasn’t a Dominion vampire. DMI only targeted mortals who’d caused innocents to die. When clients hired DMI, they wanted a messy kill on a high-profile mortal, something that would give anyone who knew how the target died nightmares for years. In the Sun World, Viper was a ghost whose DNA traces dissolved in sunlight.

“Marek doesn’t like it,” Viper said. “But as long as I choose the right targets, he doesn’t stop me.”

Julian, carefully not looking at Sky, said, “Can you make Vandar look like an accident? Enough for it to pass by the council?”

“Julian—”

“Marek would know it was me,” Viper said, cutting off Sky’s protest. “He’d surrender Sky to Kraeyl and apologize for the insult.” Viper crouched on the edge of the hatch in the floor, then went utterly still, his gaze on the ground below. “I think I know where to pick up Oracle’s scent.” He jumped. Then there was the sound of the door below opening.

Julian leaned down to kiss Sky, and before she knew it, she was on her feet, caressing his chest, rippling with muscle, sliding her hands down to undo his pants.

Her nipples were so hard they ached. Between her legs, she was soaking wet. She wanted this warrior to bed her. With a start, Sky remembered where she was. “What’s happening to me?”

Julian ran his teeth delicately along Sky’s neck, then let go of her. “You’re starting to feel the haeze.”

He’d told her about the haeze, but nothing could have prepared her. “Is that what it’s like for you?”

“Worse. I want you like that all the time.”

Caught up in that weird hurricane of need Julian called the haeze, not knowing she meant to do it, Sky rushed for the edge and…jumped.

Julian caught her in midair, his arms strong and unyielding around her. “Keep doing that,” he said when they landed, “and I’ll have to hold you down.”

“Naked?”

“Absolutely.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Even the night before her interview with a serial killer, Sky had never seen Julian on edge the way he was now. She’d gone only two steps before he pulled her back, gentle, but insistent. “Stay between me and Viper,” he said. “Don’t make me kill anyone tonight.”

She barely glimpsed movement in the night before Viper jumped in front of her, knives out. They were the same as Julian’s—ivory hilts, silver blades. Matching set, she thought crazily. And on the heels of that,
Who’s going to die?

Julian smashed a man into the wall of Viper’s building. His head bounced hard enough to shatter bone.

“Gods, Harli,” Julian said. “One night I won’t stop in time.”

Harli offered a sweet, almost boyish smile, as if there weren’t an ivory-handled knife at his throat. “Found you by scent, Julian.”

By the way he said it, Sky could tell it was something Harli had worked hard to learn.

“Who is he?” Viper asked. Julian had put his knives away, but Viper still had his out. “He stinks of vampire.”

“My ward,” Julian said. “Harli, meet Viper, my brother.”

“I heard about you.” There was no hiding the hero worship in Harli’s eyes. “You went solo. You’re something.”

Viper slowly put his knives away, sliding them inside his leather jacket, but he stayed between Sky and Harli.

Julian’s face turned harsh. He pressed his lips together, narrowed his eyes. For the first time, Sky realized, she was seeing him really pissed off. “You risked Marek revoking your wardship by following me to a known rogue. You—”

“I didn’t know where you—”

“Don’t tell me that.” Julian held Harli’s gaze until he looked away. “You knew I needed Viper to find Oracle. When you tracked me here, you knew I was meeting with a known rogue.”

Harli stayed silent, almost defiant.

“Didn’t you?” Julian insisted.

Very quietly, Harli said, “You sent me to search scrolls so I wouldn’t get killed.” He raised his eyes to Julian a moment, mildly chastising. “I know you’re mad at me for showing up, Julian. But I owe you my life.” He shrugged his big shoulders. “Guess I’m here to pay what I owe.”

“If it was me,” Viper said, “and I knew I’d be pissing you off just by showing my face, I’d have a good reason for being here.” He gave Harli a meaningful look.

“I do,” Harli said. “Oracle sent out a…” He looked at Julian. “A pronouncing?”

“Proclamation,” Julian said.

“It said that Dominion and Creed were welcome because it’s Mid-Year,” Harli went on, “and the gods are listening.” He hesitated. “Or maybe they’re talking. I don’t remember that part. He’s at the castle.”

“Belvedere?” Julian asked.

Harli nodded, a shamed student anxious to please his teacher. “For three nights. Yesterday was the first night.”

“Where was this proclamation?” Julian asked. “Why didn’t I see it?”

“Looks like it got sent to Montana a while back. I was going through old scrolls in the library to see if he did anything special at Mid-Year. And I found it.”

A half smile broke on Julian’s face. “You did good.”

Harli accepted Julian’s praise with a nod and downcast eyes.

“Why didn’t the Seeker tell us?” Julian said, mostly talking to himself.

“You know how they are,” Viper said. “The gods reveal unto he who finds his fangs sticking through his gums.”

“Marek had to have known,” Julian said.

Viper shook his head. “Not with Kraeyl chasing him into daylight about the contract every time he turned around.”

“He’ll be at the park,” Julian said. “Kraeyl’s read every scroll since the fall.”

The fall?
Sky thought of the stained-glass angels.

“I’ll go in first,” Harli said. “They won’t suspect me. Once you go Dominion, you’re always a vampire.” He glanced at Julian. “That’s what Vandar used to say.”

“Even if we let you,” Viper said, “what good would that do? Julian has to ask the questions himself.”

Sky noticed the subtle shift in Viper from suspicious toward Harli to protective.

“If I draw him away,” Harli was saying, “Julian and SkyLynne could have time with Oracle and get a head start without the vampires following them.”

“And then Kraeyl rips out your throat and dumps you on a rooftop,” Julian said. “No.” There was absolutely no compromise in his voice.

Even Viper backed down. “All right,” he said. “Let’s get moving and think it out on the way.”

They made a strange foursome on the Manhattan streets. Two tall, muscled men, one with hard eyes, the other with the nearly innocent face of a college jock. One tightly built man with a blond crew cut who looked like he was killing time between fights, the kind where only one man walked away. And Sky, a mortal young enough to hope but old enough to doubt.

* * * *

Up ahead, Sky was walking between Viper and Harli, and from the look on Viper’s face, it was his turn to get grilled. Sky tried to hide it, but Julian could see the strain showing on her. Her face was a little too pale. Her heart beat a little too fast. A light scent of diluted adrenaline came from her. Julian’s beast growled, and a question for Oracle rose to his mind.

“
Do you want to tell me how to fix this thing with Vandar, or should I start peeling off your skin a layer at a time?”

The veil that kept Julian’s beast from taking over was worn thinner than gauze. He forced himself to concentrate on what he knew about Oracle. He was like a black spot on a wall in a coal mine. No one knew where he came from. No one had ever seen his face. Stories about him went all the way back to before the Roman Empire. He didn’t swear loyalty to any side. He didn’t fight on any side. For all Julian knew, he could be from the Arctic Circle, the Shadow World version of Area 51.

Oracle didn’t have any pattern. He’d show up in movie theaters watching kid shows and eating popcorn. Or he’d be in a bar where mortal woman danced topless. Once he’d actually shown up in Area 51. Julian had heard rumors that he took pictures with mortals. That was forbidden. But no one even knew for sure if Oracle was a Shadow Worlder. He didn’t have to go by their laws.

There were legends about him. Oracle saving a Shade by telling him to carve an oak tree branch into a hook. Oracle pointing to an asker’s feet and showing him the answer in the cobblestones. Oracle saying a few words only the asker understood. Oracle, the legends said, knew everything, but he only gave up what he knew when an asker spoke the right question.

High overhead, the moon slipped between clouds, and Julian felt time racing like sand through a condemned man’s hourglass. The only reason he was wasting precious time at the castle was that his back was up against a window and sunrise was coming. They were just outside the Central Park West entrance. Belvedere was about five minutes away.

Viper turned to Julian, obviously relieved. “She could be a secret weapon against the Dominion. Send her to question them to death,” he said too low for Sky to hear. “I’ll get the token from Oracle. Meet you in the park.” Then he was gone.

Sky fell in step beside Julian and asked, “Do we have to break into the castle too?”

“I have a key,” Julian said. “Marek owns it.”

“Right,” Sky said. “Your brother owns Belvedere Castle, and he rents out the Dakota building to movie stars because he’s generous like that.”

“He doesn’t exactly rent it out. There’s some kind of lease agreement with a corporation.”

Sky laughed, and for a moment, Julian knew what lighthearted meant. “I’m serious,” he said. “It’s ours. I have a place there.”

“He does,” Harli put in. To Sky it would look like Harli was drawing even with them, but he was boxing in Sky, not making a big deal, not scaring the mortal, just guarding her. “It’s been in their family since…” He paused. “A long time. Before cars.”

“Before cars?” Julian gave him a sideways look. “You should spend more time reading those history scrolls I give you.”

Harli made a face. “Too many boring words.”

They were on the broad path that led to the castle. It rose up ahead of them, stone walls bathed in amber light. In the 1860s the mortals who designed Central Park either had too much time on their hands or too much money to burn. However it went, they built Belvedere Castle near 79th Street in Central Park. To Julian, it looked like those pretend castles inside glass balls with water.

Early in the 1900s Marek had bought the castle from the city. Julian didn’t know exactly how it worked. His brother owned the castle, but the city got to act like it belonged to them. Around the 1980s Marek financed restoring the toy castle. Shadow World tunnels honeycombed Manhattan in a carefully planned network that allowed travel to key points by day. In the restoration project, Shade construction crews dug connections from the castle to the network of tunnels.

The only rule Marek gave the city was that the castle closed at sunset. After that it was better for mortals not to be around. Belvedere was built on giant rocks, as if there were something to defend. The water of Turtle Pond lapped at the rising rocks in slow black ripples.

“I thought Mid-Year was a holiday for you.” Sky peered into the trees. “Are we the only ones here?”

“No,” Harli said, “lots of vampires around. They’re—”

He caught the look Julian was giving him and fell silent.

“Let’s wait here,” Julian said. They were sheltered behind a tree trunk. “Stay close, Harli. If you go after someone tonight because they looked at you wrong, you’d be breaking truce in neutral territory.”

“Yeah, Julian.” But Harli’s voice was faraway. He was young, and the scent of enemies so near was making him want a fight.

“You said you were gone for a while,” Sky said softly, looking up at Harli. “What happened?”

Somehow she’d struck just the right note to make Harli focus on her. His face became less stony, more there. “You mean me leaving the Creed?”

“You mind talking about it?” Sky asked.

Now Julian knew how Sky got a serial killer to talk. In her own way, she was an expert interrogator. Everything about her body language from the way she stood slightly sideways to Harli to how she avoided direct eye contact was a promise to listen, not to judge.