Shades of Midnight: an Urban Fantasy novel (Chronicles of Midnight Book 4) Read online

  Bane yanked them open, and a body fell out. An orderly, if the uniform was anything to go by.

  “Get back! Get out!” someone screamed.

  But they didn’t know what we did. They needed us.

  “Seal those doors once we’re through,” Rivers said to the slack-jawed receptionist. “Do not open them until you get the say-so from her.” He pointed at my face.

  The woman nodded quickly, and Rivers and I ran through the doors after Bane, straight into chaos. Orderlies and doctors filled the corridors, and patients ran amok. The doors clicked shut behind us, and the lock engaged with a beep just as a man sprinted past us and slammed into them. He rebounded, hit the ground, got back up, and made another run at them.

  I switched to aether-sight to see the shade that was inside. Fuck.

  “Harker?” Bane took a step toward the man, waiting for the word.

  “Yeah. It’s a shade. Crimson eyes.”

  Bane grabbed the shade in a headlock. The thing struggled, growling and grunting. This one was different. Less coherent. Less … intelligent? No time to ponder now. The power inside me surged up, drowning out my daimon. I needed to get it out, give her room to breathe. Pressing my hands to the shade’s head, I expelled the power. The relief was a tingle in my limbs and a throb at my core. Fuck, that felt good. I needed more.

  “Harker, over here!” Rivers called.

  I turned to find him pinning another guy to the wall. Yeah, it looked like I was about to get another fix, because it looked like all the infected humans who had been held here were turning. A man in a white coat ran up to me as I finished with the big guy who’d just tackled me to the ground. Bane hauled the body off me and the doctor fell to his knees beside me.

  “It’s inside me. I can feel it. I can feel it. Please, help me.”

  Shit, he was infected. Time to switch gears. I grabbed his hands and tugged at the shade using my aether ability. The world around me greyed, and the shade’s crimson eyes snarled at me. Fuck you, you don’t belong here. Get the heck out! I yanked, and the shade slid free, ricocheting off the ceiling and then disappearing through the floor.

  The doctor blinked at me, and then sagged in relief. “Oh, God. What was that? What was inside me?”

  “A shade,” Rivers said. “We’ll fill you in, but—” He grabbed at a guy making a run for the locked doors, managed to snag the back of his shirt, and brought him to the ground.

  I scrambled up and reached for the shade, but Rivers blocked me with his body. “No. This one is mine.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Bane gripped my elbow and pulled me away. “We might get answers from it, if we interrogate it.”

  “Interrogate?” I shook my head. “That’s a human.”

  “No,” Bane said. “It isn’t. Not anymore.”

  He was right. The human soul was gone, evidenced by its blood-red irises. This was just a shell housing a foreign entity. “Fine.”

  Rivers hauled the guy up. And then decked him so hard he crumpled unconscious. “Okay, let’s wrap up here.”

  “Shit’s calming down now,” Bane said. “I think you got all the infected.”

  “Probably, but we need to be sure.” I smiled at the doctor. “Can you help us get everyone together?”

  He nodded and blew out a breath, composing himself. “Yes. Yes, we can use the common room. It’s large enough.”

  “I’ll stow this one and be back,” Rivers said. He threw the shade over his shoulder and strode off toward the exit.

  The doctor began shouting orders to the other staff. And the rest of the patients were rounded up and urged into the common room. The power inside me was in check for now, so stepping into the psych ward lounge, I turned on my aether-sight.

  ***

  Five expulsions, and I was wiped, but it wasn’t over yet. We still had to check out the ward on the second floor where the patients with extreme fatigue were being treated. Remaining in aether-sight for so long had given me a headache, which would probably morph into a migraine if I used the sight again, but we were here now, and leaving without checking the other patients out would be a waste. At least the nurse manning this ward was slightly more accommodating. Probably due to the fact that the psych doctor had done us the courtesy of calling down to explain the situation before we arrived.

  We weren’t allowed to disturb the patients, but she accompanied me onto the ward and allowed me to walk up and down. Aether-sight back on, I ran an expert eye over each patient, all thirty of them.

  Nothing.

  They were clean.

  Hmmm … So, not related to the shade activity? Still, something to keep an eye on. Bane arched a brow as I rejoined him and Rivers at the desk.

  “They’re clean.”

  Bane’s shoulders relaxed. “Good. Let’s get back to the mansion.”

  “Excuse me?” the nurse asked tentatively. “You are going to stop this, aren’t you?”

  Ignoring the pounding in my temples, I plastered a smile on my face. “Yes. Yes, we are.”

  I walked away from her, my mouth tasting of lies.

  Chapter 6

  The water from the shower beat against the back of my head as Bane’s hands moved expertly over my slick body. My hands splayed against the tile as he gripped my hips and thrust into me from behind. The angle was just right, hitting the perfect spot to make me moan. He easily supported the weight of my lower body, adjusting me and taking me the way he liked. There was no feeding here, just a hot, desperate coupling, just the rasp of him inside me, and the pinch of his fingers on my flesh as he took what he needed and gave me what I wanted. He reached round and found my throbbing need, releasing the tension with a few expert strokes. I came hard, clenching around him and slamming my fist against the wet tiles as I rode the waves, because it wasn’t stopping, he wasn’t stopping. Lights flickered behind my eyelids as my throat constricted with the need to scream.

  My moan was guttural and primal. Bane accompanied me, bucking as he came, beautiful curses falling from his lips like honey. He flattened me against the shower stall wall with his body and buried his head into the crook of my neck before using his mouth to tell me how much this meant to him. He was inside me, still hard, and fuck he was swelling, growing, ready to go again. Bring it. Please.

  Back in the bedroom, still damp from the shower, I finished toweling my hair. Bane pulled on a pair of boxers, covering up his delectable arse. Damn.

  “I think you staved off my migraine.” I chucked my towel at him.

  Bane caught it and slung it around his neck. Damn, he was glorious, naked save for his boxers. Every plane and dip of his powerful sculpted body was a joy to explore. I wanted him again already. How the heck was that possible?

  He inhaled, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment, and a low growl emanated from his muscled chest. He ambled toward me and lifted me off my feet. I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me to the bed.

  “I’m not done, Harker. I don’t think I’ll ever be done.”

  There was a double meaning in those words, but he didn’t give me a chance to examine them, because that would mean opening up emotionally—something that was not a Bane trait. If I wanted to get close, it would be with him deep inside me. It would be in that moment when he was momentarily unguarded, when we were joined as one, that his eyes would say the words his lips refused to utter. It would have to be enough. For now.

  ***

  I pulled on my jeans, my body pleasantly relaxed and serviced. “I’m going to check on Rivers.”

  Bane grabbed a T-shirt from his dresser. “I’ll go.”

  “No. I can do it.”

  His shoulder muscles flexed and tensed beneath velvet skin. “You don’t want to see him like that.”

  “If you’re worried I’ll be freaked out by Rivers’s alter-ego, then don’t be.” I slipped on my boots. “The Mind Reaper is part of who he is, and I’m not running away from that. I can handle it. I was there when he tortu
red the Breed guy.”

  Bane pulled on his tee and then turned to face me. “That wasn’t the Mind Reaper in action, Harker. That was just Rivers. Once you see the Mind Reaper, once you see that side of Rivers, it cannot be unseen.”

  His tone was saturated with warning. It thrummed with foreboding, teasing the fine hairs on the back of my neck to attention. Doubt flitted through my mind like a sudden fog, but visualizing Rivers’s lean, intelligent face helped to blow it away. There was no room for doubt, not where Rivers was concerned. The Mind Reaper was a part of him that he despised and yearned for all at the same time. He needed me there. He needed someone to ground him, to remind him who he was and what he had to come back to.

  He needed someone there.

  Guilt flooded my veins, potent and punishing. “We shouldn’t have let him do this alone. One of us should have been with him.”

  Dammit, we’d been fucking while he’d been … dammit! I had to get to him. Now.

  Bane’s gaze softened. “He doesn’t work that way, Harker. He never has. When he’s like this, all he thinks about is inflicting pain.” His eyes flared in revelation. “He could hurt you.”

  My pulse skipped. “I can handle myself.”

  Bane’s inner struggle played across his face in a series of ticks and the baring of fang. Letting me go, letting me do this, was going against every protective instinct in his bones. But ordering me not to would be going against our deal to be equals. It would be claiming me as a possession and disregarding how much Rivers meant to me.

  “This isn’t how it works, Harker,” he said. “The Mind Reaper works alone.”

  “And how long has it been since the reaper was allowed out to play?”

  Bane huffed, but canted his head in concession.

  I offered him a conciliatory smile. “This is Rivers we’re talking about. He’s denied this side of himself for so long, to dive back in now without any backup …”

  He hung his head, hands on hips. “You’re right. Fucking hell.”

  Silence reigned for a long beat, and then he strode toward me, pulled me against him, and kissed the top of my head. “Go. Be with him, and make sure he comes back. I’m going to whip up some pancake batter. Rivers is always hungry when he … when he returns.”

  I peeked up at him through my lashes, resisting the urge to smooth back the tendrils of hair that had escaped the knot at the top of his head, but eager to soothe the beast and defuse the tension vibrating in his body. “Are you going to be wearing the apron?”

  “Yes, Harker. I’m going to be wearing the apron because—”

  “I know, I know.” I nodded sagely. “Batter can be messy.”

  He snorted dryly and released me. “Go. Before I change my mind.”

  I pressed a kiss to his jaw and headed for the door.

  “Harker?”

  I turned back, hand on the doorknob.

  “If he hurts you, hurt him back, and don’t pull any punches, because if you do, I’ll have to finish what you don’t.”

  ***

  I exited Bane’s chambers and headed toward the west wing. It was easier to get to the secret lair tunnel via the steps there. The sound of raised voices, male and female, had me backing up and taking the flight of steps up to the fourth floor where the Order was housed.

  The voices grew louder.

  “You think you can cop a feel?” Marika asked.

  “I assure you, that was not my intention.”

  “What? You see me naked and you don’t want to have a grope?” She sounded offended. “Why? What’s wrong with me?”

  I rounded the corner onto the corridor in time to see Marika flip open the towel she was wearing. She had her back to me, but I caught a good look at Malphas’s face before he blanched and turned his back. Abigor chose that moment to appear behind his Black Wing friend. His brows shot up and he took a good, long look, surveying Marika from top to bottom.

  “Nice work,” he said. “Totally wasted on Malphas, though. He takes his divine duties a little too seriously. I, on the other hand, am no stranger to temptation.” There was a decidedly wicked gleam in his eyes, and Marika must have seen it too because she covered herself pretty quickly.

  “I apologize for interrupting your bathing,” Malphas said. “But I heard you scream and thought you were in pain.”

  “Scream?” Marika asked. “I wasn’t screaming, I was singing.”

  Abigor covered his smile with his hand. Malphas shook his head. “Well, I … I guess I was mistaken.”

  “You can turn around now,” Marika huffed.

  Malphas faced her, and as I approached, his lips curved in a welcome smile. Abigor merely inclined his head. The gleam in his eyes dissipated.

  Marika glanced over her shoulder. “Shit. Sorry, was I that loud?”

  I laughed. “Nope, I was passing and heard raised voices. But it looks like you have it under control.”

  Marika brushed her dark, wet hair off her face. “He just insulted my singing.” She sniffed. “I’ll have you know, I have perfect pitch.” She spun on her heel and strode back into her room and slammed the door.

  Abigor cleared his throat. “Well, she is certainly interesting. At least certain parts of her are.”

  Malphas shot him a disgusted look. “You’re incorrigible.”

  I winced. “Best stay on your side of the mansion.”

  “I was looking for Bane, actually. We’ve been waiting for an update on the meeting?” His mouth turned down slightly. He wasn’t happy about being left out of the loop.

  They’d spent a long time hiding away, doing nothing. Everyone had thought they had it easy, but it must have been hard sitting on your hands and not acting to help the humans you’d sworn to protect. And now their leader, Abbadon, was gone. And, once again, they were forbidden to act to save him by an oath he’d made them take. The conflict, the suppressed frustration in Abigor’s eyes, was a storm desperate to break. We needed to be more proactive about keeping them informed. Another pang of guilt assaulted me. Damn, I was beginning to feel like a pin cushion.

  I smiled warmly. “I’m sorry. We got back not too long ago. He’ll be in the kitchen now. You can catch him there.”

  Abigor’s face relaxed. “Thank you.”

  “About Abbadon … Are you sure you don’t want to go after him? If we can find out where Asher is holed up, then we can formulate an extraction plan.”

  It was Malphas who replied. “Abbadon is dead.” His expression was deadpan.

  “We have to believe that and focus on the human plight,” Abigor said. “They are what is important.”

  I don’t know how the Black Wings did it. There was no way I’d be able to be so stoic if someone I cared for was in Asher’s clutches.

  “Fine. But just so we’re clear, it was you that took an oath, not me, not the MPD. So, if we get a shot at getting Abbadon back, then we’re going to take it.”

  Malphas gave me a small smile. “Thank you.”

  I left them to it and headed back the way I’d come. By the time I made it into the tunnels under the mansion, my mind was firmly back on Rivers. When he returns, Bane had said. What a strange way of putting it. Rivers may have donned his Mind Reaper hat, but he was still Rivers, right? Then why were my palms all clammy as I pressed my hand to the super-secret MPD lair door? Yeah, we really needed to give it a better name.

  The lab was wreathed in silence, the lights were dim, and the flashing buttons on the monitors and consoles stood out starkly in the gloom, reflecting off the tubular, fluid-filled containers holding the nephs in suspended animation.

  No sign of Rivers.

  But he was probably in the cell room where we’d held the Breed guy. A quick peek showed that room to be empty too. Hmmmm. Where the heck could he be? The other door I knew of led to the room with the dreadlocked neph. There were no other doors … or were there? Wait! I stepped into the cell room again and walked around the cages to the back of the chamber. There it was—a single, slender, unassumi
ng door. It didn’t even have a handle, so it blended seamlessly into the wall.

  A hard push and I was through into the corridor beyond. Another door greeted me, this one with a palm print panel. Dammit. My palm didn’t work. This had to be Rivers’s domain. I knocked, lightly at first, and then harder.

  Nothing.

  Maybe Bane should have come with me. Rivers had been in Mind Reaper mode for at least three hours now. It couldn’t be good for him to be locked away like this. I raised my fist to hammer on the door again, but it opened with a soft click.

  Rivers stood in the doorway, a crimson-streaked cloth clutched lightly in his right hand. His fingers were stained with blood. Shit, it was even under his nails. Hadn’t he said he didn’t actually get his hands dirty when in reaper-mode? Hadn’t he said that he made his subjects hurt themselves? But wait. That had been before he’d vowed not to use his siren ability.

  “What do you want?” Rivers’s voice was a rasp, as if he hadn’t spoken in a while.

  I tore my gaze from his guilty hands and drove it up to his face—his closed-off, cold, impassive face. His eyes were dead … flat.

  “It’s time to take a break.” My voice quivered. Shit.

  He turned away and walked back into the room. “I’m not done.”

  I stepped into the room after him, where the scent of copper mingled with fecal matter hit me hard, setting off my gag reflex. Covering my mouth and nose with my hand, I walked farther into the room. Not really a room, more a hole underground. It was composed of a plain stone floor and rough stone walls. No frills, aside from the shackles bolted to the wall and floor, and the silver trolley loaded with lethal-looking implements. No frills, aside from the dismembered body strewn across the flagstones. Torso and head were intact, but the limbs … I gulped down bile.

  What the fuck? What the actual fuck.

  Rivers crouched by the torso and reached out to push his fingers into the wound left by the removal of the shade’s arm. The shade’s eyes fluttered open, and his mouth contorted in a desperate moan.

  Pain … it was feeling pain. I’d thought they didn’t feel a thing, that the host’s body was just a casing. They never seemed to show emotion when we stabbed and sliced in battle, and they healed. This one definitely wasn’t healing.