Falling from the Light (The Night Runner Series Book 3) (16 page)

“
O
ne foot
in front of the other, with the toes pointed slightly outward and landing before the heel,” Amy said. “Toes
first
.”

I walked across the empty bedroom. One foot landed in front of the other, pointing my toes outward and trying to make them land first without falling over. Richard had said to do what she told me, and I was trying even if she wasn’t satisfied.

“Add a little swing in the hips. But no, not too quickly. You’re supposed to stroll, like you’re moving through a comfortable place. Not stomp like a goose.”

Relaxed. Swinging. Slow. Toes first. I tried again. She’d wrapped duct tape around me at my knee, midthigh, and across my chest and biceps since that’s how the dress would fit and I needed to learn to walk in it. The blood covering my slip had dried, but Amy still wouldn’t let me try the gown on and it wasn’t fair. That was the dress Richard wanted me to wear. My gaze kept going to it, my feet directing me toward where it hung in the closet.

“She’s zoning out again,” Kevin muttered from the corner.

“I am not,” I whispered. My throat tingled pleasantly, an aftereffect of the blood I’d been gifted. I glanced at the door, afraid that Richard might have glimpsed my slip in focus. I could feel him, just down the hall, his presence beating like a giant second heart. All I wanted to do was go to him.

Amy clapped her hands in my face, and I startled, tipping in the four-inch heels. I gasped when my ankle rolled, the sharp pain sinking me to the floor.

“I told you those were too high,” Kevin said, leaving the fold-out table covered in a microscope, glass slides, and piles of notes. “At b-best she’s the—
shit, that’s hot
—loner that gets the trick makeover. She’s never going to be a beauty queen.”

I whimpered when Amy grabbed me under my arms and pulled me up. She dropped me onto the edge of the chair and I slid off again, crying out when I hit the ground.

“She’s not trying,” Amy hissed, crossing her arms and stomping across the floor. “Where’s Emil’s girl? She’ll listen to her.”

“I am, too, trying,” I protested. I was. I wanted to do well.

“The other one’s burned out. You’re only feeding Sophie and Mr. Abel while she’s feeding the rest. Think about that.” Kevin wrapped an arm around my waist and hoisted me into the chair. “And this one was in cardiac arrest twelve hours ago, so maybe give her a minute before demanding that she strut her stuff.”

He frowned at me and I smiled back.
Be nice to my servants
, Richard had said. That meant no picking up the chair and breaking it across the chemist’s face. Or did it? Surely something about that could be considered nice. My ankle throbbed. I rotated it experimentally, then grimaced. It was already swelling.

“I’m not going down with her if she fails.” Amy slammed the closet door, her voice rising shrilly. The paper now securely taped over the window rattled. “I’ve been with Sophie for a month, and I’ve been good, and Mr. Abel barely acknowledges me. Except when he’s hungry. This bitch is here a day and he’s already given her his gift. A day! I…I don’t know what I’ve done to disappoint them, but whatever it is, I can’t do it again.”

“You’re correct about that,” Richard said from the doorway. Amy snapped upright. I pulled myself to my feet and tried to straighten my slip. I wanted him to see me at my best, strong and smooth as a feather. No, not that. Quiet, the way he liked me.

“Sydney,” he said, his voice a caress over my name, “go downstairs and get yourself something to eat. Then rest.”

“Yes, sir.” I moved for the door, trying to hide the way I was limping. He grabbed my wrist, and I sucked in a breath. His eyes were bright, so bright where the rest of his face was drawn tight and hard. He was under a lot of stress. I wished that I could ease it.

He turned my head back and forth, peering into my eyes. I’d hurt, but once his hand and his attention were on me? It was like I’d downed a bottle of champagne a little too quickly. Like I was feeling the warmth of the sun following a long winter.

“I’m good.” He frowned and I scrambled to think of how that could have bothered him. “I’m good, sir.”

His hand, which had tightened on me, eased. I swayed toward him, but he released me with a push.

“Take the shoes off before you go.”

I wanted to tell him that they didn’t hurt, that he didn’t have to worry about me. But instead I bent down and released the straps from around my ankles. I handed the shoes to Amy, who skirted along the wall to take them from me, then trotted down to the basement.

The fruit and cheese were warm, but they were tasty enough. As soon as I’d eaten, I became tired. Instantly, as though someone had turned a switch off in me. Richard had been right; I did need to rest. I lowered myself to the floor of the cage. It was amazing how he seemed to know exactly what was best for me.

“
T
here you are
.”

I rolled onto my back and found Mickey peering down at me. Her face was pale, other than the darkness beneath her eyes and the pronounced hollows in her cheeks. I wanted to roll facedown and close my eyes and never get up again. Instead I sat up, even though my head swam when I did so, like it was floating in a vast ocean of poison.

“Syd, I don’t like it here. It’s…not friendly.” She winced when she swallowed, and I flinched alongside her as memories came to me in fits and starts.

“It’s bad?” I rubbed at my forehead, trying to coax my thoughts into a linear order. What the hell had I taken?

“This place.” She touched my bare arm, right above the bite wound that had cracked open and oozed blood while I slept. “What they’re doing to you.”

Her voice cracked, and tears filled my eyes. The glamour prevented her from thinking of herself. It wouldn’t do to have a mistreated feeder concerned about her own well-being. And I wasn’t supposed to…

Time froze, and my pulse pounded in my ears. I hadn’t taken anything. Abel had tried to bond me to him. I could still taste his blood.

“Then maybe we should go,” I said. There was no other option.

Her brows pulled down, but she nodded, a shallow little bob that turned into a vehement thrash.

“It’ll be okay.” I grabbed a couple of water bottles and pushed myself to my feet, grimacing as stiffness pulled at my entire body. “Are you alone? Is someone waiting at the top of the stairs?”

She shook her head, her eyes clearing a little. “Nobody’s waiting. And it’s daytime.”

“Perfect.” We eased out of the cage. It wasn’t locked but I couldn’t quite remember how I’d gotten there. Or why I was wearing only a slip. But I didn’t care. We were getting the hell out of this place, and that was enough for me. I tugged at the tape binding my knees, then froze when the tearing sound echoed through the empty room. That could wait.

“You remember the number Petr gave us when we landed, the one for emergencies?” I whispered.

“Yes.”

“We’ll follow the roads, hitchhike if we have to. But if we get split up, don’t stop. Don’t wait. Keep going. Find a phone and call for Mal. He’ll come.”

She grabbed my hand as we climbed, wobbly cartoons tiptoeing up the stairs. I was amazed that the combined sound of our pounding hearts didn’t alert anyone, but there were a lot of windows on the first floor and the vampires preferred the rooms above.

I handed Mickey both bottles of water and gestured for her to stand to the side of the door as I very carefully unlocked it. My hands felt gritty and a rusty powder fell from my fingers. The dead bolt clicked and I bit my lip as I turned the handle and eased the door open. Fuck yeah, jailbreaking for profit. Grinning, Mickey slipped through. I turned sideways to follow her through the small opening, then cried out as something slammed into the door, shoving it into my chest. She looked back, eyes wide.

Run
, I mouthed at her. And, champion that she was, she did.

A hand dug into my shoulder and yanked me back in. I hit the floor as the door slammed shut, sealing me in. A paint can tipped over and started leaking beige on the hardwood floor.

“Get up.” Anger radiated from Abel.

The Amy beast hovered halfway up the stairs, both hands clenched around the railing.

I raised my chin. “Go to hell.”

His fangs dropped and his eyes burned with anger…and surprise.

“Come here, Sydney,” he snapped, his will an icy fist reaching inside of me and squeezing. My body moved mechanically, a toy wound by his hand. I stood, even though I didn’t want to. I walked to him, even though I fucking did not want to. My mouth tasted coppery and my throat burned.

Panic split his hold and I bolted, aiming for the back of the house. There had to be another door, another way out—

He caught me with a snarl, one arm clamping around my waist. My feet came up and kicked in open air. He grabbed my hair and jerked my head back and, when he spoke, he lisped around extended fangs.

“Amy, tell Kevin to bring his machine down.
Now
. Then go find that human.”

“You go after Mickey,” I said to Amy, my voice a promise, “and I will goddamn kill you.”

Abel shoved me against the wall and pinned me with his body. My neck was cranked back so far I could barely breathe.

He snarled. “What does it take to break you?”

He bit himself. I recognized the sound, the grinding pop of teeth puncturing flesh, as Malcolm had done a hundred times. But this was nothing like those times. My breath was a sob that turned wet as he thrust his wrist into my mouth, pressing my teeth apart. Cold streaked down my throat and my breath plumed in the air as I choked and sputtered.

“You will be what I need you to be,” Abel said against my ear. His words filled my mind, essential as my own. “Your greatest fear, greater than desire or love or your own life, will be disappointing me. If you cannot do what I tell you to do, you will die in the attempt. Do you understand?”

He released me and I slid to the ground. All I could hear was my heartbeat, an erratic staccato, and his voice ricocheting through my head. Beating his words in deep.

He knelt beside me, his eyes scorching. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

W
ith my eyes closed
, the car felt like a living thing. It glided over the road, sliding into and out of turns with rough grace. It scoffed at the cracks in the asphalt. The roar of the engine promised power, so much power, but it didn’t strain. It understood being managed, being held back. The car was a machine, a tool that existed solely for the use of another, and it did not resent its position.

“What will we say?” Emil asked, sounding distracted. He shouldn’t have been asking. Richard had already explained everything. But he was anxious. I understood that. I didn’t want to be a disappointment, either.

“Nothing unless explicitly asked. We are here for an audience with Master Bronson and, to get to him, we must first be granted sanctuary. If our request is not granted, there will be no maneuvers left. In that case, a quick death would be a mercy.” Richard was also nervous. His voice was so flat that even his accent sounded subdued. But his energy jumped and skittered around me. Inside of me. I was full, heavy and stiff with it.

“After I leave the car, wait four minutes before you enter,” he said. “That will give me time to introduce myself to Chev.”

“She’s very formal,” Sophie said.

“That won’t be a problem for me,” Richard said, shrinking her with his words. “My presence will draw attention, so be prepared for an audience. Sydney.”

My eyes snapped open, and he swam into focus. My chest tightened at the pleasure of seeing him. His expression didn’t soften, but he nodded sharply, as though I’d passed inspection. He leaned forward and his finger hooked beneath my chin and pulled it up. I stared into his eyes, pale blue and endlessly deep.

“You must be at your most elegant, your most poised,” he murmured. “Look as though you are fit to hang from the arm of a general. If Chev asks you a question, answer simply. If anyone else speaks to you, ignore them. If you do what I have asked, you will please me greatly.”

I swallowed as a surge of emotion threatened to choke me. “Yes, sir.”

The limo, the body weighted by the steel and insulation required to contain vampire energy, rolled to a stop inside of a short tunnel. Through the windows, tinted nearly black, I could just make out torchlight.

Someone knocked twice on the door, waited a few seconds, then opened it. Richard stepped out, pausing to button his suit jacket and say something to the valet, then strode away. I started counting, frowning when Emil and the vampiress jostled me as they moved across to the seat Richard had vacated.

“Do you think this will work?” Emil asked, running a half-dropped fang around the raw cuticle of his thumb.

“We’ll find out soon enough.” The vampiress was wearing her black hair and her Sophie face.

“You’ve told the others?”

“They’re waiting.” Sophie ran her fingers along the stitching of the leather seats. “Those of us who remain.”

“Have you heard from your brother?”

“He sent word.” Her expression flattened so dramatically that her lips barely moved when she spoke. “His pledge was rejected. He’s on his way back, but he lost everything in the gambit. This is our last resort. I wonder if it’s worth putting up with him.”

“He’s not so bad.”

“No? Pavel would disagree.”

“Pavel was thinking only of himself, not the rest of us.”

“And who was Abel thinking of, when he filled him full of Radia?”

I wanted to tell them to shut their mouths, to stop talking badly about him, but Richard had forbidden me from speaking to them unless they were going against his orders.

“You won’t have to serve him. This Bronson is a true master. Real power. No more scrimping by.” Emil’s hand closed on Sophie’s and she relaxed slightly. “We’ll know if we’re in by the end of the night. No more waiting.”

Emil’s gaze swept from window to window, not pausing on me. I continued to count.

“I’m too hungry to wait,” Sophie said. “Let’s go.”

“Not yet,” I whispered, wincing at the burn in my throat. “Fifty more seconds.”