Текст книги "Afterlight"

Автор книги: Elle Jasper

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

“Understood,” Eli said, then, with his forefinger, grazed my angel wing. “You look” – his gaze raked over me with appreciation – “amazing.”

Why that compliment affected me, I haven’t a clue. But it left me a little breathless, a little shaky, and, strangely enough, wanting a lot more. “Thanks,” I answered, and tried to seem like it was no big thing, but Eli’s smile proved he knew otherwise. I rolled my eyes, turned around, then stopped again. I regarded him. “You’re not going to be tempted by Nyx, are you? Because if you hurt one little hair on her head – ”

“She’s safe,” Eli interrupted. “I’ve got Gullah blood in me, too, don’t forget.”

“One more thing,” I added. “Nyx is a hugger. She hugs me every time she sees me. She will hug you. It’s what she does. So just . . . deal with it.”

Eli’s blue eyes gleamed. “Yes, ma’am.”

The moment I opened the door, Nyx, just flipping the OPEN sign in the storefront, turned. In total Nyx fashion, her huge blue eyes lined with heavy black liner widened. “Riley! Oh my gosh, I’ve been so worried! How’s Seth?” she asked, hurrying across the room and launching herself at me. I hugged her back as tightly as she hugged me; then she pulled back and studied me, seeking answers. “Is he going to be okay? Have you heard from him today?”

Just her concerned questions made my heart sink; knowing the truth of what was happening to my brother, and keeping it from Nyx, hurt. It hurt like freaking hell.

“No, I won’t be talking to him for a while,” I said, not exactly lying. I hated lying, especially to my best friend. But in this circumstance I had no choice. She didn’t need to know how much danger my brother was in, and she’d never understand the truth. “Not while he’s in detox.”

Tears came to Nyx’s eyes. “Oh, Riley,” she said, and gave me another hug. Nyx was a big hugger, and I was so not – except with her and Preacher and Estelle. And Seth. “Everything’s going to be fine; I just know it. Don’t – oh, hello,” she said, and pulled back.

I glanced at Eli, who’d been standing in the foyer, waiting for an introduction. “Oh, Nyx, this is Eli. He’s apprenticing and is going to be with us for a while.” I shrugged. “Sort of a last-minute thing.”

Nyx’s bright red lips widened into a welcoming smile only Nyxinnia could give. She immediately hugged Eli. “Hi, Eli! Welcome to Inksomnia! You’re going to love it here. Riley is the best artist you’ll ever work with.”

Eli chuckled and hugged Nyx back. “So I’ve heard,” he said, and gave me a quick, amused glance over her shoulder, then pulled back and looked at her. “Nice to meet you. Riley says great things about you.”

Nyx grinned and looked at me. “Oh, she has? She’s so sweet!” Then she mouthed the word hot, and although I didn’t hear Eli make a sound, I could just tell he’d seen it. “Well, come take a look around.” She turned and headed toward the front of the shop. As always, she wore her hair in two high ponytails, and today she wore her favorite spiked collar. She grinned at him. “I’ll show you how we set up. First, we rock the house. I can’t work without music. How ’bout a little Metric?”

With a grin, Eli followed, and I gave him over to Nyx while I prepared for my first client and printed out the transfer I’d created for her. She showed right at eleven, and after a brief chat about the design – a pair of barbed dark wings, one on each shoulder blade – I set to work. The design itself included intricate scrolled detailing and color on the wingtips, so I knew it’d take me a handful of hours to complete. Which was fine. I needed something to take my mind off my brother, and off the vampire who was learning how to set up the Widow with my best friend. Metric’s “Sick Muse” thumped overhead, and it pulled me right into the zone.

The early afternoon went by without a hitch, and around one thirty I sent Eli on some errands for a couple of hours. I didn’t tell Nyx that his errand included going upstairs, sucking blood from a bag in my fridge like it was a Capri Sun, and sacking out on my bed, but I knew he needed it. He’d watched me work on the dark wings for nearly two hours, completely intrigued – or so it seemed. Nyx had enthusiastically talked Eli through every step of the dragonfly she’d inked on a girl’s lower back, and more than once I looked over at his dark head bent close to Nyx’s work. Finally, he went upstairs. I never checked on him; I figured he’d been doing his thing for nearly two centuries and didn’t need my help. True to his word, after a couple of hours he returned to the shop, looking refreshed and ready to go. Good thing the Arcoses were out cold until the sun dropped.

The rest of the afternoon flew by; I’d done two wicked armbands, one of which was a bike chain, which I thought was pretty cool, and was finishing up a screaming phoenix on a marine’s rib cage when the shop phone rang. Nyx answered.

“Hey, Riley, it’s for you,” she said.

“Okay, could you tell them to hold just a sec?” I asked. Inking the side of a marine’s solid six-pack was challenging – lots of hard ridges to work over – and I leaned close, wiped, and inspected my work. The marine, lying on his side with his arm above his head, glanced at me and grinned. “How does it look?”

I gave a nod. “Freaking awesome. I’ll be right back.” I peeled off my gloves and went to the front desk to answer the phone. “Inksomnia. This is Riley.”

“I’m . . . sorry to bother you, Ms. Poe,” said a distraught female voice. “This is Karen Parker – Riggs Parker’s mom.” She paused. “Have you seen him? He was supposed to be staying with Todd Sawyer, and, well . . . I just can’t find him. It’s been a few days.” She paused. “He usually checks in.”

“Mrs. Parker, hi,” I said. My insides froze over, and I stilled. My eyes immediately sought out Eli’s, and I found he was already watching me. He moved instantly toward me, and I covered the mouthpiece and spoke softly. “It’s Mrs. Parker – Seth’s friend’s mother. He was with Seth that night.”

“Give me the phone,” he said quietly, and I did. In a voice so faint I could barely detect it, Eli spoke to Mrs. Parker in French. I have no idea what he said. Then he hung up. As he moved away, he leaned close to my ear. “I eased her mind. She’ll be okay for now.”

I looked at him and fully understood, although I had no idea how Eli did it. I didn’t care at this point, as long as he did. I knew Riggs was with Seth, and as much of a peckerhead as he’d been before, I wanted him safely returned back to normal, back to his mother and deserving a good ass kicking. God, I knew without hearing the angst in her voice that she was going through hell. “Thanks,” I told Eli, and went back to the marine who was waiting for me. In less than twenty minutes I was finished, screaming phoenix complete and looking pretty sick, if I did say so myself. He proudly examined his new ink, the skin around the design flaming red. I gave him a sample tube of medicated ointment and tat instructions, and he left.

Nyx finished early, and she finally confessed to having a blind date. Eli helped her clean up, and as I watched my alternatively dressed best friend pick up her station with a vampire, I knew my world was unlike anyone else’s. Nyx gathered her big black shoulder bag with pink skull and crossbones, gave me a hug, gave Eli a hug, and said good-bye. The only reason I wasn’t apprehensive about Nyx walking the streets alone after dark now was because I knew one of the Duprés had her back. I felt somewhat guilty for keeping it all from her, but it had to be the best choice. It wouldn’t do any good to have Nyx worried about things out of our control, and she loved Seth like a brother. I watched her through the storefront window until she disappeared down the cobbled street and into the dusky light, auburn ponytails swinging with each step.

“She’s a good person,” Eli said, suddenly at my side. “She has a good soul.”

I nodded. “She does.” Out of the corner of my eye, I looked at him, and memories of the night before, when he’d crowded me on the balcony, his hard body pressed against mine, flashed to the front of my mind. I tried to decide just how unsafe Eligius Dupré actually was, and I couldn’t. Part of me was terrified of him. The other part of me wanted to fuck him until he passed out. Or I passed out.

Eli chuckled.

And then, nearly twenty-four hours later, it hit me. I frowned and turned to fully face him. “Can all of you read minds?” I asked, and watched his reaction warily.

A smug, nonchalant expression crossed his perfect features, and he shrugged. “Yeah, sure. And we can coerce, too.” He rubbed his chin. “I’m not sure yet which is more to my advantage.” He lifted a dark brow and stared. “Right now I’m thinking mind reading.”

“Ground rule number three: Stay out of my head,” I said, and felt only vaguely mortified at my pornographic thoughts of him.

Eli simply smirked. “Whatever.” He shoved a hand through his bangs and swept them to the side, then shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Tomorrow night we begin.” He regarded me. “Are you ready?”

Turning toward him, I boldly inspected him, from booted feet to the top of his head. I shook my own head and walked off to tidy up my station and start a list of needed supplies.

“What?” he asked, dismayed.

“I’m not going anywhere with you” – I turned and pointed at him – “looking like that.”

Eli glanced down at himself. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with the way I look?”

With a critical eye, I studied him. “Do you know where we’re going to search for my brother? They’re the types of places where a pretty boy who looks like he just stepped off the pages of GQ or . . . Men’s Health or something sticks out like a sore thumb. You’d look wicked ridiculous and draw unwanted attention. You’ve got to blend, dude.”

A slow grin played across his face. “So you think I’m hot? GQ hot?”

I ignored his arrogant, blunt question, locked the front door, and set the alarm system. “Come on,” I said, moving past him.

He was at the back door ahead of me, and I stopped short. All I could do was try not to look as surprised as I was.

“Where are we going?” he asked, leaning against the frame and blocking the door.

“Walgreens. A friend’s house. Liquor Warehouse. Mellow Mushroom. In that order,” I answered.

Eli laughed a totally guy laugh and regarded me. “Okay, I won’t ask. Let’s go.”

After quickly letting Chaz out, we locked up, jumped in the Jeep, and headed first up Bay Street, then hit Abercorn. The usual after-dark traffic crept along until we passed the intersection at Victory Drive; then the pace quickened as we moved along the oak-lined streets. The heavy brine and warm, sultry air rushed over us as we drove, and I knew he watched me – could feel his gaze on every inch of my body as we passed beneath each streetlamp. At the next red light I hit the clutch, downshifted into second, then first gear, and came to a stop. I looked over at him, and shadows played over his sharp jaw, cheekbones, Adam’s apple. I noticed he had absolutely perfect lips, and the way his eyes studied me with such intensity made a thrill shoot through my insides. He was the kind of guy who would have never given me the time of day in high school, but I didn’t care. We sat, staring wordlessly at each other beneath the streetlights and with cars all around us, and I knew then, at that very moment, that we’d have mind-blowing sex in the near – very near – future. It was inevitable, and I felt it clear to my bones. The tension between us was palpable, and I couldn’t help but wonder just how much vampiric control he’d be able to maintain. Would he lose it and kill me? At the time would I even care? The light must have turned green, because the driver of the truck behind us blew its horn, and I jumped. Eli grinned; I frowned, although it really wasn’t a sincere frown, and I shifted into first and eased off the clutch. Soon we were crossing DeRenne, and Eli glanced to his right as we passed the big globe.

“You know,” he said, “my brothers and I had a pissing contest off the globe once. It was new back then, too, and Papa was furious at us.” He laughed again. “We liked to think we took a leak from the top of the world.”

I glanced in my rearview mirror and changed lanes, then gave him a quick, bewildered look. “Vampires pee?”

“Only if we drink a lot of beer,” he said with a grin, the wind blowing his hair all about and making him look more like a carefree young guy than an aged vampire. Why I constantly questioned myself about that, I don’t know, but I did.

As I made the long drive down Abercorn, I pushed my hair from my face and glanced at Eli. “Preacher said you’ve been gone for twelve years. Why?”

The muscle in Eli’s jaw flinched, and he stared straight ahead. “That’s none of your business.”

Anger pushed me. “You’re supposed to be guarding me, right? A vampire capable of killing me, staying in my house while I sleep. I have a right to know.”

“No, you don’t.”

I looked at him, but before I could say a word, his face grew alarmingly still. “Drop it, Riley.”

I did, for the time being. After several stoplights, we pulled into Walgreens and parked. Releasing my seat belt, I hopped out, and Eli did the same. I didn’t say a word as I entered the store and turned down the aisle lined with hair color, grabbed a box of L’Oréal black, and checked out. Eli looked only vaguely puzzled; I’d asked him to stay out of my head, but I couldn’t decide whether that was something he could voluntarily do, so he may have known my plan. If I had the power to scope people’s thoughts, I’m not positive I could turn it off. So much temptation. So little time.

On to our next destination. I pulled into the drive of a single-story Savannah brick home just off Largo – quite deceiving on the outside, since the interior was decorated in a unique decay look. I yanked the emergency brake, put the Jeep into first, and looked at my passenger’s questioning gaze. I was still pissed so was short on formalities. “Mullet Morrison’s house. I went to high school with him. He’s cool,” I said. “And one badass tailor. He designs and sells one-of-a-kind Goth and urban wear online and makes a freaking killing at it. Calls it Gnaw Bone Brand. Come on.”

At the door, Mullet welcomed me as he always did: enthusiastically. Despite his name, he wore a totally shaved head, a goatee, baggy shorts, a ripped camouflage shirt, and combat boots – his usual attire. He was a prince.

“Whoa, man – my favorite hot inked chick,” Mullet said, and glanced at Eli briefly. “Wassup, cuz?” he asked me, and bumped my fist. “Welcome to the kingdom of Gnaw Bone.” He regarded Eli. “What can I do you for?”

“We’re looking for some decent stuff,” I said, and inclined my head at Eli. “For him.”

“Excellent, excellent,” Mullet said. “No offense, dude, but you could use a little darkness. Black? Ripped? Junkie?”

“Yeah, on all three accounts,” I answered. I gave Eli a short glance; then we followed Mullet inside. “Oh my God, Mullet – how many more times can you watch Jackass?” I said, glancing at his monstrous flat screen on the wall.

Mullet laughed. “Never enough Jackass, I always say.” He glanced at Eli. “This way, dude.” He looked at me. “Been to the Panic Room lately?”

“Nah, not in a while. Busy at work. Thinkin’ about going, though,” I replied, and he gave me a nod.

“Sweet,” he said. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”

We didn’t spend much time at Mullet’s – didn’t have to. Mullet had an entire showroom full of clothes on racks, and boots that he bought wholesale. There was so much to choose from that we had no problem picking out appropriate gear for Eli. He was silent through most of it, and I’m positive he thought I’d lost my mind. Two pairs of postapocalyptic urban pants, a black pair of junkie-fit jeans with side laces, two long-sleeved decayed shirts, a gray ripped shirt, and a pair of buckled black combat boots later, we left. I’d also picked out a two-inch leather finger band with a sterling-silver skull in the center. Wicked cool.

I called Mellow Mushroom on the way and ordered a sausage, pepperoni, and mushroom with extra cheese, stopped off at Liquor Warehouse and grabbed a six-pack of Yuengling Lager, then picked up the pizza. Finally, we made it back to Inksomnia. Upstairs, we dumped everything onto the kitchen table, and I turned to Eli. “Ready for a makeover?”

He shrugged. “You’re the boss.”

As I gathered a few things from the bathroom – comb, scissors, towels – I noticed more than ever how cramped I felt in the same apartment with Eligius Dupré. I tried to ignore it, tried to ignore him as he watched me with such scrutiny. Quickly, I changed into a pair of low-rise cutoffs and an old black cotton cami, scrolled through the iPod home unit and chose Chevelle, pulled a stool from the bar into the kitchen, and inclined my head to it.

“Sit,” I said.

He did so wordlessly.

“Lose the shirt,” I commanded, “unless you want it stained.”

Without a sound he grasped the collar behind his neck and yanked the white tee over his head, leaving a perfectly cut chest and sculpted abs bare and flawless. Quick reflexes always served me well, and I dropped the towel in his lap. “Over the shoulders,” I said, and with an arrogant chuckle he did as I’d asked. I began his dark transformation.

With Chevelle’s “Don’t Fake This” thumping through the apartment, I settled into my task. Coloring Eli’s hair proved to be an erotic experience. His breath brushed the bare skin of my exposed stomach as I lifted my arms to apply the dye, and gooseflesh followed. I was sure he’d noticed, and positive he knew it had affected me. His hair was slick and wet and fell through my fingers as I applied the color, and as I moved around him I noticed how his hand rested casually on his crotch, and how my thigh brushed against his, or how I leaned into him to reach a certain spot. Yeah, I did it on purpose. Swear to God, I couldn’t help it. He was a total turn-on; my mind and body hummed with sensations, and I knew I played with fire. Knew it, and still did it.

While we waited for the color to set, I grabbed us each a Yuengling, handed Eli one, grabbed us each a slice of pizza, then hopped onto the counter in front of him. With black dye all over his head, I regarded him as I sipped the beer. Silently, he watched me as he swallowed, his eyes moving over my body. Neither of us said anything for several moments, and that may have been even more erotic than the coloring.

“Why don’t you have a man?” he asked, blue eyes gauging my response as he bit the pizza in half. I watched his teeth flash and wondered what else they’d sunk into in times past.

Mood killer. I immediately had my guard up now. “If I need one, I find one,” I said, taking a bite, chewing, and chasing it with another sip.

“A permanent one,” he restated. I’d already known what he meant. I just wanted to provoke him.

I sat the bottle and pizza on the counter beside me and wiped my mouth with a knuckle. I lifted the hem of my cami to expose my ribs, and touched a jagged, three-inch-long scar midway up my side. “Reason number one,” I said, and Eli’s eyes followed my finger. Before I knew it, his hand shot out and, grasping my side, he used his thumb to trace the old wound. “What happened?” he asked, his voice odd, almost . . . strained. He dropped his hand.

I shrugged. “Thought I was in love with a psychopath,” I answered. “That was my first warning never to leave him.” I met Eli’s hard stare. “I should’ve listened then.”

“Why?”

Although it was an old memory, it was still as painful as hell, and my throat burned at the thought of it. I trained my eyes on his. “Because the second warning came when I found my mother strangled and drowned in her own bathtub,” I said, and shook my head, painful visions filling my mind. “My mom warned me about him and tried her best to get me to break up with him. I never dreamed he’d do . . . what he did to her.” I looked at Eli, who remained stonily silent. “I was seventeen and was one messed-up kid. Seth was only seven.” I drew in a long breath. “My mother worked for Preacher and Estelle, and they’d been left by her as guardians for Seth and me. I’d always wondered if she knew her life was in danger; she’d made sure we’d never be separated or put in foster care.” I drained the rest of the bottle and tossed it in the recycle bin. “I’d given her hell – a total fuckup and into just about everything a teenager could get into. Smoked like a freight train, toked a little Mary Jane, drank, drugs, runaway, sex – you name it.” I studied Eli hard. “I was changed after that night, though. Seeing my mother like that?” I shook my head. “Something in me snapped. Preacher saved my life, put me through detox on Da Island, the Gullah way. Then I went to college and started raising Seth here. I owe Preacher and his family everything.” When I swung back around, his gaze still remained dead on me. “You know?”

“Yeah,” he answered quietly. “I do know.”

I gave an understanding nod. I supposed he did know. The Gullah had helped Eli and his family, too – in a huge way. Had molded them into something completely different from what their destiny had tried to determine. I ate the rest of my pizza and had another slice, Eli had three, and by then the timer on the oven buzzed. “Well,” I said, not really knowing what else to say. “Time to rinse.” I beckoned Eli to the sink and turned the water on warm.

With his hair on end and now totally black, he moved to the sink and bent over, resting his forearms on the counter. Moving over him, I rinsed his hair with the spray gun, moving my fingers through its wet silkiness, my breasts brushing his shoulders, until finally, the water ran clear. I applied the conditioner and rinsed again. My skin flushed hot just standing close to him. Part of me hated my easy reaction to his raw sexuality; part of me wondered whether the underlying threat of arcane danger was what turned me on. If so, I was indeed a freak to the nth degree. One thing was indisputable: I was incredibly, undeniably drawn to him. And he knew it.

I struggled to sound calm and collected. “Okay,” I said, running my hands through his hair and squeezing out the excess water. Grabbing the towel that was half draped over his shoulders, I pulled it onto his head and scrubbed. “Done. Let’s have a look.”

Eli straightened, grabbed onto the towel, and dried his hair, and I couldn’t help watching the muscles move and flex with the motion; creamy smooth skin stretched taut over the hard ridges of his stomach and chest; his biceps bunched into rocks, shoulders broad. Long veins snaked up his arms, and wide hands moved over his head in a careless, guy manner. When he dropped the towel and looked at me, we were standing too close; I knew it and did nothing about it. Eli’s new black hair hung in wet, shaggy strands over blue eyes that grew dark and dangerous as he looked down at me, and I couldn’t move. He leaned a hip on the counter, braced his weight with an arm behind me, and leaned close. My heart began to race erratically, and I moved a bit closer. I felt like I’d been placed under a spell, knowing in the back of my head that what I did was a bad move but unable to help myself at the same time.

“You play a dangerous game, Riley Poe,” he said with steely restraint, and his gaze dropped to my exposed cleavage, then rose to my mouth, where it froze. A muscle flinched in his jaw. “I suppose I’m part to blame.” He looked at me and moved closer, his mouth at my ear, his voice even, low. “Ever since I heard you say you wanted to fuck me, I haven’t been able to shake you.” Eli moved his entire body in front of mine, all bare chest and ripped abs trapping me against the counter, his arms now locked on either side of me. With ease, he grasped my hair behind me and pulled with just enough pressure to force my face upward to meet his gaze, then held it there. He inhaled deeply, his face inches from mine. “I sensed it the first day I saw you through the window, and it’s grown stronger with each encounter.” He searched my eyes, his voice lethally quiet. “Do you want to know why I’ve been gone for twelve years, Riley?”

I could barely breathe, much less talk. Never had I been held under such a tight restraint as Eli’s penetrating gaze. “Yes,” I finally said, forcing my voice to be strong and wondering why the hell he was torturing me. He was so close that his warm breath brushed my neck, my chest, making me thrilled and shivery at the same time.

“Because I lost control,” he warned, emphasizing each word as a low, painful growl, his breathing becoming more ragged. I could feel the air snap between us with a mixture of sexual tension and tightly reigned rage as he struggled. “So stop twitching your tight little ass in front of me,” he said, and let his gaze drop to my breasts once more. His stare lifted and bored into me. “You’re a greater temptation to me than your mortal mind could possibly grasp.” He let my hair go. “And I don’t know if I’d be able to stop with you.” He pushed off the counter but kept his eyes trained on mine. “There’s too much at stake here to risk that.”

My heart was beating so hard and fast, it hurt; my breathing burned my lungs. Inside, I shook, and all I could make myself do was stare at him like some fucking mute and move past him. Rejection in any form sucked; rejection tinged with fear sucked even more, and I wanted to escape the living room, escape Eli’s scrutiny. So twisted inside that I could hear my own heartbeat, feel it beneath the thin cotton of my cami, I hurried to my bedroom. I’d escape the mortification of the moment now; in the morning I’d be cool; his transformation could continue. I still needed to do something to his hair, and I didn’t exactly trust myself with a pair of scissors right now.

I felt his eyes on me as I disappeared up the hall, but even though rooms separated us, I could feel him still on me, his voice inside me, his breath brushing my skin, and I wanted to scream until it vanished. I wanted it all to go away – the Arcoses, the Duprés, everything.

The moment I stepped into my bedroom, I knew nothing would ever be the same again. I stumbled to an abrupt halt as I laid eyes on my brother, standing at the now-open double doors of my balcony. Reaction to action took over, and I moved toward him. “Seth!” I said, my voice cracked and jagged with holes, emotion.

The look in my brother’s eyes froze me; they were feral, frigid, vacant, and terrifying at once. He looked like himself, yet didn’t; he looked . . . starved. Before I could move or say another word, a gust of air blew past me, and Seth lunged viciously toward me, out of control and as fast as lightning. I hadn’t even seen Eli move, but he now had Seth by the throat in a tight grasp, hanging him over the balcony’s edge.

My scream reverberated off the centuries-old bricks of my bedroom.