Wicked Kiss (Nightwatchers) (3 page)

Chapter 3

“Don’t know why a gray can do this,” Roth grumbled as
he trailed after us. “Why can she see the searchlights when we can’t?”

He didn’t know the truth and neither did Kraven. Only Bishop
knew and he’d sworn me to secrecy about it.

I wasn’t
just
a gray.

Bishop always talked about the universal balance and how
important it was. Well, I was about as balanced as you could get. Equal parts
dark and light thanks to my birth parents—whom I’d never met. Up until a week
ago, I didn’t even know I’d been adopted.

My father was a demon named Nathan, my mother was an angel
named Anna.

Anna had been killed shortly after I was born and Nathan had
joined her in the Hollow, her final resting place. The same place Carly had been
sucked up into.

Theirs was a forbidden romance doomed from the start, but it
had produced yours truly. Because of this, I was what was termed a “nexus”—the
center, the connection—and the fact that I’d lost my soul meant I could
allegedly channel the powers of both Heaven and Hell.

It helped me do things, see things. It made me special. It made
me valuable. Clinging tightly to this thought after what I’d done to Colin was
the only thing keeping me from completely freaking out.

“Why are they sending someone else?” Kraven asked, ignoring the
other demon. He didn’t sound happy.

“I don’t know,” Bishop replied. He walked so close to me that I
could barely concentrate. My hunger still had me tightly in its grip and the
scent of his soul, of him, did crazy things to my head. “You’re sure it’s one of
our
searchlights, Samantha? Not just a regular
one?”

“Positive.” The light that shone up into the sky was restoring
my hope with each step I took. I moved toward it like I was following a rainbow
to a guaranteed pot of gold.

A sixth member for the team would mean one more chance to find
Stephen. At this very moment, I didn’t care if he turned out to be a demon or an
angel.

However, when we followed the searchlight to its origin, I
found something I wasn’t expecting.

“Well?” Bishop asked when I stopped walking. “Where is he?”

“Not a he.” I pointed shakily in the direction of the girl up
ahead. As soon as my gaze locked on her, the light disappeared. It only ever
stayed on long enough for me to make visual contact.

She was young—like me. Seventeen, maybe. She had long, pale
blond hair. She wore ripped jeans and a black sweater. She wandered along the
sidewalk next to a busy street with her arms crossed over her chest as if trying
to keep warm.

I’d always thought it was incredibly sexist that Heaven and
Hell had only sent boys on this mission to save Trinity. Looked like they’d
changed their minds.

“This is ridiculous,” Roth said. “Girls are useless.”

Just the sound of his voice rubbed me the wrong way. I didn’t
waste my breath in arguing with him, but he must have felt the heat of my
glare.

“They are,” he insisted.

“Whatever you say. Obviously, you know everything.”

“Finally, you’re starting to get me.” He laughed darkly. “Let’s
hurry up. I’d rather be out killing things like you tonight than play follow the
leader. At least, until we finally get a crack at you.”

“Shut up, Roth,” Bishop growled. He’d moved to stand between me
and the demon while Kraven watched us, amused.

Fear slid through me at the way he’d said it. So bluntly. Like
this was a guaranteed thing. “What are you talking about?”

He looked at me like I was stupid. “You’re a gray. As long as
things like you are still breathing, that barrier is up, trapping you—and us—in
this city. When you’re all dead, the barrier vanishes and we’ll be pulled back
where we belong. You think we’re giving you a pass forever because of this
magical mojo you can do?”

“Roth.” There was a sharp edge of warning in Bishop’s
voice.

Roth snorted. “We’re going to kill her, it’s just a matter of
time. You said so yourself.”

My breath left me in a rush. “You said
what?
”

Bishop’s gaze flashed to me. “I didn’t say that.”

“So he misunderstood you? Please tell me how that sort of
message could get messed up.”

Kraven laughed, an unpleasant sound that slithered under my
skin. “Bishop didn’t come right out and say we had permission to kill you. But
he said if you slip up and start munching on souls then you’d become a problem
we’d have to deal with. Better?”

“Is that true?” I shot a searching look at Bishop.

His expression was unreadable. “We’ll talk about this
later.”

“No, we’ll talk about it now.”

“Later,” he said again firmly. “Go home, Samantha. We can
handle the girl.”

I stared at him, trying to read his frustratingly hard-to-read
face. I suddenly wanted to run—far away from here, far away from these
three...even Bishop, who normally made me feel safe. At least, I thought he
did.

But I stood my ground. I refused to be chased away that easily.
I couldn’t let myself give in to my fear. “I’m not leaving yet. I can still help
you tonight.”

Disapproval slid through his blue eyes. “Fine. Stay. Your
choice.”

I could prove to them that what happened at the club wasn’t
really me. It was a slipup, not an indication that I was losing it. And when I
got my soul back, my hunger would be gone. The cold I always felt would fade
away. I would be as normal as I could ever hope to be.

“Feeling a connection to the blonde chick?” Kraven asked with a
smirk. “How sweet. Maybe you can be best friends. I know you’re looking for a
new one since the last got flushed away.”

I didn’t know why I was surprised that he could be so
thoughtlessly cruel. My only defense was to put on a good game face. The best
way to combat sarcasm was with more of the same.

“Or maybe you can bite me.”

His grin stretched. “Is that an invitation?”

“Not tonight...
James.
”

His smile fell.

I knew his human name. He’d shared it with me in a moment of
weakness, and I knew it bothered him when I used it.

“Gray-girl’s got a smart mouth,” Kraven muttered. “It’s going
to get her in trouble someday.”

“You’re right,” Bishop said. “It will.”

He was mad that I hadn’t tucked tail between my legs and
scurried home like a good little monster. But I was staying for the ritual. I
would be there for the new girl, no matter what.

I knew what was coming. She didn’t. Right now, she’d have no
memory of why she was here. The invisible barrier that stretched over Trinity,
put in place by the combined powers of Heaven and Hell, was designed to keep
supernaturals in the city. But it also kept supernaturals out. To get in, angels
or demons had to be specially protected against it. It also stripped away
memories. The only thing that helped pinpoint a demon or angel was the
searchlight—the one only
I
could see.

The ritual was what restored them to their former demonic or
angelic selves. If it wasn’t performed, they’d wander the city forever with no
idea who they were.

I would rather not have to witness the ritual again—to put it
mildly—but I couldn’t just walk away and let this girl deal with these three
without a shred of moral support.

Her pace had quickened. She knew she was being followed. Before
long, she found herself in a blind alley, in a less populated neighborhood. She
turned to face us, holding her hands up in front of her.

“I don’t want any trouble,” she said uneasily.

“Do we look like trouble?” Kraven asked, looking down at
himself. “Honestly. I’m a little insulted.”

“Let’s do this,” Roth said.

Bishop shot him a look. “Patience.”

The girl’s gaze moved to me and a measure of relief went
through her eyes. I knew I looked pretty harmless. Nothing more than a teenager
dressed to go clubbing on a Saturday night, my long dark hair loose around my
shoulders. Nothing to fear.

Not at first glance, anyway.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“A friend,” I told her, forcing myself to sound calm. “My
name’s Samantha.”

She swallowed hard. “Why are you following me?”

“Because we want to help you. We know you’re having problems.
We know you don’t know who you are.”

Her blue eyes widened. “How could you know that?”

“Magic,” Roth said with a thin, unpleasant smile.

Bishop was the one who always performed the ritual, but he
wasn’t making any sudden moves.

“I think I hit my head.” She scrubbed her hand through her
blond hair. “I woke up earlier and I—I didn’t know where I was. I’m sure I’ll be
fine in a little while, so...thanks, but I don’t need any help.”

Despite the chill in the air, sweat dripped down my back and my
palms were damp. “You will be fine. I promise.”

“Samantha’s right. You’ll be fine.” Bishop finally pulled the
curved golden dagger out of the sheath he wore under his shirt, along his
spine.

Her eyes shot to it immediately and widened with fear. “What is
that?”

“Check her back.”

Kraven grabbed hold of both of her wrists in one hand. He
pulled at her sweater and she let out a frightened shriek.

I stormed forward and punched him in his arm. “Do you have to
be such a jerk? You’re scaring her!”

“Sorry, sweetness. There isn’t really a polite way to do
this.”

“Samantha, please don’t let them hurt me,” the girl begged. A
tear slid down her cheek and she trembled, but didn’t try very hard to break
away from Kraven’s grip.

My heart wrenched for her. “I need to check something real
quick. Everything will be better soon. You need to trust me, okay?”

“O-okay.” Her voice quaked.

I took a deep breath and pulled her sweater up her back a few
inches so I could see her skin. The lines of the tattoo I’d been hoping to see
were visible immediately, wrapping right around her sides and past the waistline
of her jeans.

“Is it there?” Bishop asked.

A small but immediate measure of relief coursed through me.
“She has an imprint. She’s definitely the right one.”

She stared at me with confusion. “An imprint? What’s an
imprint?”

I nodded and returned her sweater to its previous position.
“Something that will make everything all right in just a minute.” I looked into
her blue eyes and the fear I felt for her must have been reflected there. The
panic instantly returned to her gaze.

Her breath came quicker. “What do you mean? What are you going
to do to me?”

“Do it, Bishop,” I bit out, nausea coursing through my gut.
“Quickly.”

I thought he’d hesitate and show some sign of reluctance for
what he had to do. Sometimes I mistook him for a gentle angel who struggled with
sanity and needed help from time to time.

But he wasn’t gentle. And he didn’t need any help right now. He
was a warrior who didn’t flinch when it came to taking action.

He nudged me out of the way and looked in the girl’s eyes. A
coldness moved over his face that scared me.

“Be brave,” he said, as if issuing a command. Then he thrust
the dagger into her chest without another moment’s hesitation.

My knees gave out at the same time hers did.

It’s the ritual,
I told myself over
and over.
She’s not human. This isn’t really
murder.

The only way a demon or angel could get their memories back
after passing through the invisible barrier and into Trinity was to temporarily
die—provided that death came from Bishop’s very special golden dagger. The
dagger did something, some magic, which removed their protective shielding and
restored their former sense of self.

If they were ever stabbed again with the same dagger, however,
it would kill them.

I stared down at the blonde girl now lying on the ground of the
alley with the dagger sticking out of her chest.

“That was so awesome,” Roth breathed.

“You’re sick,” I snarled at him.

“Your point?” The demon leaned over and yanked the dagger out
of her chest when Bishop didn’t reach for it first.

My mind reeled over witnessing this horrible act yet again. “I
need to talk to you, Bishop. Alone. Now.”

“Uh-oh,” Kraven said. “Somebody’s in trouble.”

“Fine.” Bishop nodded to the left. “Let’s go over there.”

“Need a chaperone?” Kraven asked. “Wouldn’t want her to get any
ideas. Maybe fake murder turns gray-girl on.”

Bishop sent a glare in his direction. “Stay here and watch over
the girl.”

“Eat me.”

Apparently, Bishop took that as a “yes, I’ll stay here and
watch over the girl.” He led me to a spot farther down the alley and just around
the corner. I cast a last glance at the blonde now lying as if dead on the
pavement of the alley while two demons lurked nearby waiting for her to wake up
again.

“I told you to leave,” Bishop said, his voice and expression
equally tight. He wasn’t meeting my gaze. “So if you’re upset about what I had
to do, you only have yourself to blame. I was doing my job. I didn’t enjoy
that.”

I knew he was right. It was his job—one he was remarkably and
chillingly good at. “Look, I—I’m sorry about what happened at Crave tonight. I
know you’re mad at me.”

“You think I’m mad?”

“You should be mad.”

“Should I?” He raised an eyebrow, his harsh expression finally
thawing at the edges. “Okay, then I’m mad.”

“I knew it.”

“Still, you should have left. I know the ritual upsets you.
Especially since it was a girl this time.”

“Which is kind of ridiculous. I’d all but gotten used to it
happening to boys. Why should a girl be any different? Maybe I’m the sexist one
here.”

“She’ll be fine.”

“You didn’t hesitate. Not even a second.”

“Does that bother you?”

“A little,” I admitted, but held his gaze. “Are there a lot of
female angels?”