Wicked Kiss (Nightwatchers)

Chapter 15



“Hooray,” Kraven said drily. “Another all-ages kiddie club. How exciting.”

He was wrong about many things. This was one of them. The club Bishop had taken us to didn’t cater to the underage crowd like Crave. Ambrosia was decidedly adult and crowded.

I’d heard of it before. Very popular, and wall-to-wall busy seven days a week. Carly once suggested we get fake IDs so we could sneak in and check it out. Since that was just after my near-arrest for shoplifting, and I’d been extremely paranoid about coloring outside the proverbial lines again, I’d refused to let her talk me into it.

Carly’d always liked chasing adventure way more than I had. I’d always, with very few exceptions, played it safe.

But nothing was safe anymore.

It was ten o’clock when we finally got there. I feared I’d get carded at the door—one of the few tests I’d inevitably fail. I knew Bishop wasn’t able to do the angelic influence thing that the others could. And demons didn’t have that particular skill.

But he’d figured out another way of influencing humans—one that worked nearly as well. He produced a roll of bills and paid off the bouncer. That was all it took to get a hand stamp and entrance. Money talks.

I’d heard a lot about the club, read articles about it on the internet, but it was even more impressive in person. A billionaire had bankrolled it for his Victoria’s Secret model girlfriend—who was named Ambrosia—and it had that sexy, high fashion meets big bucks look. And to add to the cool factor, the most hopping part of the club was three stories belowground. I checked my coat upstairs and we descended a glass, spiral staircase studded with crystals, sparkling under the pot lights.

Downstairs, the place was packed—despite it being a Monday night. The bar was in the middle, and the huge shiny black-and-silver dance floor to the far left. It put Crave to shame. Everywhere else, in the main area and in the many more private alcoves, were plush designer sofas and chairs, as well as tables where well-dressed patrons could mingle, drink champagne and sip cocktails.

But, just like at Crave, the music pounded. It was the one thing they had in common.

“This is where you think Stephen is?” I asked Bishop. Stephen was only nineteen, not that that seemed to matter all that much, as evidenced by how easy the bouncers were to pay off.

“It’s a guess,” Bishop said.

There were also at least two hundred other souls here in this club. I couldn’t ignore that fact no matter how hard I tried, especially after how out of control I’d been only a short time ago on the street. I fought hard to keep my focus and not let my hunger take over—my constant, invisible, inner battle.

Bishop glanced around our immediate area. “Where did Kraven go?”

I looked over my shoulder and spotted him almost immediately. The golden-haired demon was impossible to miss, even in a crowd. “By the bar. He’s getting a drink.”

“Typical. He’s always preferred getting drunk to working.”

I looked at him, surprised. “Demons can get drunk?”

He raised an eyebrow. “He used to be human.”

“So did you,” I reminded him, and was rewarded with an immediate tensing of his expression. It was almost amusing, really. He was like Pavlov’s dog. Ring a bell, the dog salivates. Mention his past, Bishop gets grouchy.

“Right,” he finally allowed. “Well, some things don’t change. Alcohol and other drugs still affect us. If we’re not careful.”

“Maybe he wants to drown the memory of...what he had to do to me earlier.”

There was no humor in his eyes anymore. Instead, there was a flash of something much darker. “That kiss?”

My cheeks burned. “Yeah, well. He doesn’t like me.”

“He likes you more than he likes me. He hates my guts.”

“You think he still holds it against you that you killed him and sent him to Hell? Shocker.” I honestly didn’t mean it to sound as smart-ass as it came out. But there it was.

“Let’s keep looking for Stephen,” Bishop said tightly.

I deflated. My confidence came and went, really. Right now, it went. “Sorry, but you’re the one who gave me that enticing piece of information and now you want to pretend you never said anything.”

He studied me for a moment, expressionless, then a grin finally tugged the side of his mouth. “You are bound and determined to learn my deepest, darkest secrets, aren’t you?”

“Determined is a good word. Obsessed might be another one.”

His smile only grew, the expression working like an arrow shooting straight into my heart. “Obsession can be a dangerous thing, Samantha.”

My gaze moved to his lips. “Don’t I know it.”

He wrenched his attention from me to scan the club, and then turned around to face me full-on. “Am I too close? I’d rather not make this difficult for you.”

I swallowed hard, ignoring the constant hunger being near him brought forth. “It’s always difficult when I’m close to you.”

His jaw tensed, and he turned away. “Then I should give you some space.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s better now than it was before.” I grabbed his arm, and electricity sparked between us. He tensed and turned back to face me.

Then he immediately directed me away from the crowd and off into a quieter alcove, past a translucent crystal-beaded curtain. The loud music still blared from the live band and I couldn’t even make out what the lead singer was singing, but it was slightly muted here, giving the illusion of privacy.

“Bishop, last night when I saw your memory...” I began. I had to get this out. It weighed on me like a two-ton elephant sitting on my chest.

“Let’s forget about that.” His attention moved to something over my shoulder, but I think he was simply trying to avoid eye contact.

“But that’s just it—I don’t want to forget it. I know you think I might have seen something that you didn’t want me to see. That somehow it’s going to make me dislike you or fear you. But you’re wrong.”

He gave me a wry look. “Then I guess you didn’t see nearly as much as I thought you did.”

“Why can I do that?” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “I know I can do the mind-meld thing, but it’s not like I can control it.”

“You’re a nexus.” He moved closer so he could also speak quietly in case we were overheard. The song had ended and the band slowly eased into the next one. The buzz of conversation beyond the curtain swirled around me. “You have a strange power over the ethereal and the infernal. That includes me. Add that to the fact that you took a piece of my soul...well, that gives you certain powerful abilities.”

As much as I’d love to be someone who just readily accepts every mind-blowing thing that has happened to me over the past couple of weeks, I wasn’t that girl. The less I thought about my birth parents and what that meant—and I honestly didn’t know exactly what that meant—the less freaked out I got.

“I don’t feel so powerful,” I said, swallowing hard. “I don’t know why anybody would even be concerned with someone like me. There’s no way I could throw anything off balance.”

“I think you underestimate yourself.”

Bishop was still too close to me, and his warm, spicy scent made it nearly impossible for me to concentrate. “Have you ever known of another nexus?”

“They’re rare, but yes. Once, years ago, I met one.”

“What happened?” I asked, breathless.

He met my gaze. “I killed him.”

I gasped. “Oh, my God.”

His brows drew together and he watched me, as if wary of my reaction to this jarring statement. “You always say that you’re the one who doesn’t hold anything back and I’m the secretive one. But I don’t want this to be a secret. I need you to know this, now that you’re aware of what my job was.”

I worked it over in my mind, trying to reject it, but I knew I couldn’t. “So it was an assignment for Heaven—this nexus was bad. A real threat.”

He nodded, his jaw tight. “This is exactly why I know you’re different.”

“Why?”

He surprised me by giving me a small grin. “That you even have to ask me that proves it all the more. You know that a nexus—while very rare—can’t access their powers while their human soul covers up what they really are.”

“Yeah. Natalie told me that. That’s why she had Stephen remove mine.”

Something unpleasant crossed his expression at the mention of my aunt and Stephen. “The nexus I dealt with removed his soul through dark magic. Blood magic.”

I gulped. “I’m guessing that doesn’t involve magic wands and fairy dust.”

“Not even slightly. He knew what he was doing, and was willing to sacrifice other lives in the process. Your soul was taken against your will and now you’re actively fighting to get it back.”

“I am a fighter.”

“Don’t I know it.” His lips quirked.

“This is why you don’t want the others to know about me, isn’t it? Because if Heaven or Hell found out the truth—you’d have to kill me, too.”

Any humor vanished from Bishop’s expression. It was more than enough to tell me I was right. “Like I said before, Samantha, you can’t let the others know what you are. You won’t like the results.”

He began to turn from me to return to the main club, but I grabbed his arm hard. That familiar charge of celestial energy flew between us—so powerful this time that I swear I saw literal sparks. He froze before he glanced at me again.

I held on to him tighter. “You know, you really piss me off sometimes.”

He didn’t pull away. “Excuse me?”

I hissed out a frustrated breath. “Seriously. You refuse to tell me anything about yourself, except these frustrating bits and pieces. And then when we start talking about something important, you want to turn away and ignore me. But you’re still the only person who wants to protect me. That means something to me.”

Yeah, something big. Way too big to wrap my head around.

“I’m not the only one. Kraven proved tonight he’s more than up to the task of filling in when I’m not around.” His words were tight. “You really don’t think he likes you? I saw the way he was kissing you—tonight and Saturday night. Maybe you should think again.”

Kraven didn’t like me. At all. The two times he’d kissed me—that was only because there wasn’t any other choice. “Now you’re being ridiculous.”

This earned a short, humorless laugh. “Not many people have ever called me ridiculous before. But okay. Don’t let him fool you, though. The brother I knew—that one you might have seen in my memory—is long gone. He’s a demon now. Just because he’s able to play the part of a charmingly sarcastic Boy Scout now and then doesn’t mean he isn’t dangerous.”

“I guess you have that in common.”

“You’re right. We do.”

“But you’re an angel, not a demon. I know that means you’re good, even if you don’t totally believe it yourself. If you tell me more about your past, I won’t hold it against you. I swear I won’t, Bishop.”

His brows drew tightly together. “Why do you want to know so badly?”

“I just do.” I couldn’t tell him the truth. I couldn’t tell him that I wanted to know because every single time I saw him I fell that much harder for him. He might feel the need to protect me, he might feel something for me, but in his mind it was all due to his soul and my hunger. And that hadn’t been proven otherwise.

But for me, I knew it was different. Hunger and heart—they weren’t the same thing, no matter how hard he tried to justify it and explain it away.

No matter how he might have looked at Cassandra, or how much they had in common with each other, he didn’t look at her in the same intense way he looked at me.

The way he was looking at me right now.

He hissed out a breath. “We don’t have time for this right now.”

I sent another furtive glance toward the main club through the beaded curtain. I couldn’t see Kraven anywhere. And Stephen wasn’t around, either. I knew we needed to be out there right now, but I had to do this. I had to know the truth.

“Let me see your memories. You don’t even have to tell me about them—maybe you can just show me. We can try.”

“Samantha, you need to stop being so concerned with my past and be more worried about your future.” His jaw tightened. “And make sure you keep that dagger on you at all times. No matter what. Do you have it tonight?”

I shrugged. “Maybe.”

He glared at me. “You’re seriously the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. You know that?”

I glared back. “Ditto.” Then I froze as he pressed me back against the wall and slid his hand down my side and over my thigh. “What are you doing?”

“Checking something.”

My heart slammed hard against my rib cage and the delicious scent of him, of his soul, was slowly driving me crazy. He was so close. And his touch, even if it was through my jeans, not against my bare skin, had helped shut off my senses to everything around us—no music, no voices, no crowd, nobody else—only this moment.

“Good,” he whispered as his fingers trailed over the weapon and sheath hidden beneath my loose jeans. “Although, it’ll be too hard to access quickly unless you start wearing short skirts.”

I struggled to breathe normally. “Is that a request?”

“A suggestion.” His now-heated gaze locked with mine and held. “Damn it, Samantha. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“Like what?”

“You were not supposed to be part of my problem.”

On the surface, word for word, it almost sounded like an insult. But the way he said it, low and throaty...me being problematic for an angel of death—it was the sexiest thing I’d ever heard in my entire life.

My hunger swirled around me, ever tightening like a cool silk scarf binding me in place. Everything else faded into the background—my future, my survival, the safety of everyone in the city, even the fate of my best friend trapped in the Hollow.

I didn’t care about anything else.

Only Bishop.

“Kraven’s right.” His breath was warm against my cheek. “When I’m this close to you...it’s like being a fly trapped in a spider’s web. I can’t seem to free myself.”

“I want to kiss you right now.” I was completely unashamed by the truth spilling from inside me. “So much. It’s driving me crazy.”

He didn’t reply; he just nodded slowly, his gaze fully fixed on my lips.

“I won’t take it all. I can stop myself before it’s too late.” My hunger turned me into something other than myself, other than the shy and awkward kid who’d only allowed herself crushes on a couple of guys before. The girl who shielded her heart to keep it from being broken. The one who looked in the mirror and still only saw a skinny girl with long, wild hair and barely enough chest to stuff in the smallest bra on the rack.

But Bishop had never looked at me like I was that girl. He looked at me like I was something amazing. Something beautiful beyond words. Something he wanted more than anything or anyone else.

And, at the moment, with the sounds of Ambrosia now only a distant echo, I knew he was every bit as lost as I was.

He drew closer, closer until finally...finally, his lips brushed against mine.