Redeeming the Night (11 page)

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Authors: Kristine Overbrook

BOOK: Redeeming the Night
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Something was happening between them that both frightened and excited her. Did he know? Doubtful. She should tell him, but he probably wouldn’t believe her anyway. Right now, she needed to go. Before it got any worse.

She walked to the door, and he followed.

“Will I see you again?” His brow furrowed. He opened his mouth to say something else and closed it. She should tell him something.

“There’s something happening between us—” she began.

He stepped closer. Too close. “I’ve noticed.”

Just step out of the door
, she told herself. But the piece of him within her kept her frozen in place. “I don’t think either of us could prevent it if we tried.”

His grin fell. There was so much more to this man than she knew.

Against her better judgment, against all of her training, she reached out to him, the stubble on his chin rough against her fingertips. Then her fingers traced the line of his jaw until they reached the back of his neck. She pulled his mouth to hers.

Again, she felt her soul reach for his. This time, she enjoyed the exchange, almost as much as the dozens of primal sensations that coursed through her that told her to drag him back inside the room and make wild, passionate love to him. The instinct almost got the better of her before she broke the kiss.

“I’ll see you again,” he whispered. “Soon.”

She felt his gaze on her until she turned the corner for the elevator. Unable to help it she smiled all the way back to her car.

• • •

Eric closed the door behind Ashley, his mind still reeling from the way she’d grabbed him. That was dangerous. For her as well as him. She wasn’t human, she couldn’t be. Still, there was something about her. He’d seen, and experienced, too much strangeness since his transformation for this woman to faze him. Something sparked when they were together like with no one he’d ever dated. However …

He had yet to see the real her. What he didn’t know about her outnumbered what he did know. She was wanted by the police.

What the hell was happening to them? He’d felt something shift within him when they kissed. Could that be what people meant when they said the earth moved?

• • •

Find the hunter
. Ashley needed to follow up on Nichole’s target from the night before. No matter how often she’d reminded herself of that in the last five minutes, her thoughts returned to Eric.

Just the idea of spending another moment with Eric nearly had her turning the car around.

Nearly.

Nichole’s face swam before Ashley’s eyes. Tracking the hunter came first. Her poor, innocent protégé who had turned Ashley’s world on its ear wasn’t cut out to be in the sisterhood. Even if she were right, and men could be permanently redeemed, there was no room for that kind of thinking in the sisterhood. If she were to be honest, many of the sisters enjoyed getting “some of their own back.” Until recently, Ashley had felt the same.

Certainly, Ashley didn’t need a man. And she didn’t want one. Men embraced chaos. They merely used women to satisfy themselves and their needs. Even Eric. There was a shadow in his soul. Something dangerous seemed to lurk just past her reach. She squared her shoulders. He was entertaining, but he should most definitely be avoided.

The hunter is the target.
She followed the little tugs like a GPS; the closer she got, the harder they tugged. Ashley pulled into a neighborhood of tract housing. He was local.
Surprising
. The houses looked as though they’d been made with a stucco cookie cutter—small buildings on top of each other with postage-stamp yards.

The street led past rows of homes then around a large circular park and playground area.

Several families picnicked. Hordes of children ran about under the trees and on the jungle gym.

Once upon a time, she’d wanted a family. She slowed the car to watch the interaction at the closest picnic blanket.

A matronly woman watched a young girl of about five run from their blanket to the swings, pigtails flopping as she ran. The child called to be pushed and was answered by the hunter who rose from beside the woman, kissed the hand he held, and walked to the girl.

When he turned to push the child, who now kicked her legs in excitement, Ashley could see the faint piece of her soul in his chest. Still glowing golden and bright.

To get a closer look, she parked her car and walked over to the woman on the blanket. She sat in the grass a few feet from the woman on her right.

After waiting a few moments, Ashley spoke. “Kids are great, aren’t they?”

“A blessing,” the woman replied without hesitation.

“Your husband looks like a loving father.”

“Yes, he does.” The awe in the woman’s voice spoke volumes, but Ashley chose to err on the side of caution.

“Isn’t he?” Ashley asked, hoping to draw her out.

“He’s a new man this morning.” Then she jumped, as if just realizing she was speaking to a stranger. “He’s less stressed today.”

Nodding wisely, Ashley said nothing more, but watched the man Nichole had taken mercy on pushing his daughter. None of the vile slime that had so permeated the man’s aura the night before remained.

He’d been cleansed. This morning, his entire being reflected a new man. Joyful, spending time with his family.

Ashley looked again at the small bit of her that lived in him. So small, she didn’t think she’d miss it. Better to leave it there in case he was to backslide and again become something that needed destroying.

She sighed as she walked back to her car. At least for today the small family could build good memories. Perhaps Nichole was right.

• • •

Ashley returned home to a mansion in turmoil. Tension could be felt from the other side of the front door.

She kept her eyes open for the cause of the cacophony of voices. Nichole sat at the kitchen table, tears streaming down her face. No one else was in sight.

“What’s happening?” Ashley asked after she slipped into the kitchen.

“Oh, Ashley,” Nichole wailed.

“Shhh,” Ashley warned. She didn’t know what was going on, and the last thing she wanted to do was get involved in petty sniping. And if it was worse, she wanted to know the situation before she got involved.

“They’re sending me away,” Nichole gasped through sobs.

“What?” She stood up. “Who? Why?”

“The Mother, because Tarma told her I didn’t make the kill last night.”

“You told Tarma?” Ashley leaned on the table, struggling with the urge to shake the teary woman. “Why did you do that?”

“I thought if you trusted her I could too,” Nichole whispered and looked up at Ashley with big, watery eyes.

Ashley straightened and shoved her fists into the pockets of her jeans. “I told you not to tell anyone.
Anyone
.”

“But they should know there’s a better way, that we can do our work without killing them.” Nichole wiped the tears from her cheeks.

Ashley sighed. “Sure they should, but at what expense?”

“I don’t want to leave.” Nichole sniffled.

Ashley felt sorry for her. The whole idea that men are able to change was a foreign one to the sisterhood, and it would, of course, be especially difficult for the woman who founded the sisterhood.

“Maybe I could talk to them,” Ashley offered.

“Don’t, you’ll get in trouble too.” Nichole blinked her large eyes at Ashley and then they widened larger. “Did you see the guy at the bar again?”

“What do you mean?” Ashley asked, concerned.

“The guy who stole the kiss.”

“No,” Ashley said, and then remembered seeing her soul in him. If she could see hers in him then others with the power could see his in her. “Shit.”

“I can see bits of his soul all over you,” Nichole said, standing and hugging the surprised Ashley.

She pressed her hands over her heart. How could she hide this? The sisterhood would kick her out for sure if they caught wind of what she was doing with Eric.

“Oh, God, what do I do?” Ashley pleaded of the air.

“Why don’t you concentrate your power on your aura? Instead of disguising your physical appearance, alter your own aura?”

“It could work.” Ashley concentrated on herself and her own aura. The effort had perspiration beading across her forehead.

Finally, after quite a bit of pushing, Nichole told her she had it. Just in time, because a second later, Tarma walked into the room.

“Ashley?” The question sounded like a whip in the silence. Ashley spun to face her mentor.

“Yes?” Ashley smiled and gulped down the sudden string of excuses that rose in her throat. She had nothing to explain.

“You left the house early this morning. I needed to talk to you.”

“Sure, I—”

“The Mother wanted to talk to you.” Tarma stared at Ashley, her eyes flickering as if she meant to see through her.

Confidence
, Ashley reminded herself. “Sure. Is she here now?”

“Yes.” Tarma led the way up the stairs.

“What did you need to talk to me about?” Ashley asked, focusing on the paintings along the stairs and hall.

She’d seen them before, heck, she’d lived in this house and walked these halls for years. But today, they took on a whole new meaning for her.

Just at the top of the stairs hung an angry abstract of reds, oranges, and blacks that seemed to flicker in the light of the stairwell. She could swear she felt heat emanating from it.

Farther along the hallway, another looked like a portrait of a marriage kiss in an outdoor wedding, but as she passed, the bride appeared to be eating the groom. Ashley choked back her exclamation and was overcome with a bout of coughing. Why hadn’t she seen any of these things before?

“You understand Nichole will have to leave?” Tarma asked, pausing before another flight of stairs.

“Of course.” Ashley met her old mentor’s eyes. For the first time, she saw the vertical slits where her pupils should have been. “She doesn’t belong here.” Ashley didn’t think she would be able to lie, so she stayed with the truth.

“She seems to believe men are worth saving, able to be reformed.” Tarma let the statement hang between them, heavy with the implied question: did Ashley believe the same thing?

Ashley responded as she would have three days ago. “I’m sorry she’ll have to leave. She had promise.”

Again, Tarma waited. The silence, though obviously for effect, nearly unnerved Ashley.

Finally, after twenty seconds that seemed to last twenty minutes, they continued up the stairs. The heavy wooden doors to the Mother’s bedroom opened by themselves as Tarma approached.

“Ah, it’s about time, Ashley.” The Mother walked to the door, clasped Tarma’s hands, and then turned to Ashley. “I’m glad we caught you before you went hunting this evening.” She led Ashley by the hand to an antique couch by the open French doors that overlooked the garden with a view of the desert beyond.

Ashley’d been in this room on several occasions, and never before had she had the overwhelming dread that she had now.

A light dry breeze blew through the doorway. It was warm and pleasant, but it chilled her to the bone.

“You’ve had a lot to deal with, dear.” The tone was strong and sweet. Ashley wanted to believe the kindness in her words as she’d done so many times before, but her mind picked apart every word, looking for an inner meaning.

“You look a little dehydrated.” The Mother passed her a glass. “Have a drink.”

Ashley thanked her and sipped. But the Mother placed a finger under the glass and lifted the bottom. “Drink up. We don’t want your promotion to suffer because you’re not caring for yourself properly.”

The drink seemed fizzy like peroxide, but it tasted like cinnamon. She finished the glass, and before she could inspect the empty vessel the Mother handed it to Tarma and continued, “Nichole wasn’t ready to join the sisterhood. I saw potential in her, but she proved that she just doesn’t have what it takes.” All Ashley could do was nod, as the bony hand patted hers. “You mustn’t blame yourself for her failure. She had radical ideas unworthy of a member of the sisterhood.”

The skeletal fingers dug into the back of Ashley’s hand. She held in a gasp and endured the pain. “You’re not placing any stock in those ideas, are you, dear?”

Ashley replied quickly, knowing any hesitation could be used against her. “I told her the idea was ridiculous at the start.”

“Good. That’s good.” The vise released, and Ashley’s battered hand received another pat. “This will allow you the opportunity to deal with an unfit sister. It is not part of your training, but I see how valuable it will be to you.”

“Okay.”

Tarma circled to stand just behind Ashley. The Mother seemed not to notice. “Of course, she knows too much to set her loose into the world. We can’t guarantee her silence out there, so she’ll have to be dealt with by us. Well, by you.”

“Dealt with?”

“Your very first.” The Mother patted her hand again; she seemed proud.

Tarma, on the other hand, rolled her eyes. “Sentimentality is a weakness.” It wasn’t imagined; she hissed like a lizard.

“Tarma’s right. It can be.” The Mother narrowed her eyes at the hovering woman. “However, tonight, we celebrate.”

A celebration. Dealt with
.

Tarma gripped Ashley’s shoulders and squeezed. “If you drain her quickly it won’t bother you as much. Do you feel it inside you yet?”

Ashley fought to keep her facial muscles relaxed. They wanted her to kill Nichole. Could she even do that? At one time, maybe, but now … Ashley’s stomach clenched, and she swam through a wave of nausea. What had they put inside her? The way they talked it was more than energy, more than a spirit.

“You and Tarma should hunt together for a while. She will be able to teach you some new techniques. Help you embrace the spirit within you.”

“That’s great. I’ve missed hunting with her.” Ashley smiled, but her vision blurred for a second as she gazed at both of the other women. But they weren’t women. They were powerful creatures that for the first time she could see clearly.

The Mother looked the most familiar. Then, Ashley realized the tapestry over the large bed was a portrait. Scales as black as coal. Eyes that defied nature by being even darker.

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