Wicked Kiss (Nightwatchers) (31 page)

Chapter 29

We took my mother’s car back to the east side of the
city to where Noah’s Halloween party had been held. The house was now empty,
litter scattered over the front lawn.

I glanced down the street toward the exact spot where Cassandra
had been taken away. In the beginning, I’d had so many conflicting feelings
about the angel, but now all I could remember was how much she loved Chinese
food and the red goo.

“You probably think I’m completely crazy right now,” I said to
Bishop as we got out of the car and walked a block down the street to where I
could see the barrier. In most spots it was invisible, but here and there it
showed itself as a translucent silver mesh that stretched up over the city like
an opalescent bubble.

Bishop looked up at the barrier, his arms crossed over his
chest. He then sent a wry look in my direction. “Completely? No. But maybe a
little. It’s okay, though. I could use the company.”

I held my hand out to him. “I need your dagger.”

He eyed my outstretched hand, studying me as if trying to
figure out a riddle. Clarity shone in his blue eyes. “Now I
do
think you’re crazy.”

“I have to try.”

Bishop hesitated another moment before he finally nodded.
“Don’t just try.”

He pulled out the dagger and handed it to me hilt first. It
felt heavy in my hand—and not just its weight. This knife had killed Cassandra,
Zach and countless others.

A similar dagger had killed my birth mother seventeen years
ago.

With whatever supernatural abilities I had with being a
nexus—the same power that allowed me to read the minds of angels and demons—I
could also read this dagger’s energy, which hummed up my arm. This wasn’t just
metal. It was magic.

It felt similar to the imprint of wings on the backs of the
angels and demons. This was not of this world. Here it looked like a dagger, but
it was so much more than that.

This, most definitely, was a physical representation of death
itself.

But I didn’t want to kill anyone with it. Tonight, I wanted to
help them.

Bishop already knew what I was going to attempt. He’d heard my
aunt demand it of me—and then tortured him to push me to do it. It was one of
the many reasons Bishop believed nobody should learn about my secret
identity.

Because I might be able to do things like this.

With both hands, I brought the blade up to the surface of the
barrier. I glanced at Bishop.

“Concentrate,” he said, nodding. His eyes glowed blue in the
darkness surrounding us. “You can do it.”

I took a deep breath and returned my attention to the barrier,
to the also now-glowing dagger, and brought the weapon downward in one slice. A
shimmering line of golden light appeared where I’d made the cut. It gaped open
and a whoosh of warm air blew my hair back from my face.

“It worked,” I whispered. The golden light grew brighter and
brighter, sparking with fireworklike intensity. Bishop drew me back, his arm
around me as we stared up at the breached barrier.

My aunt was right. I
could
do
this.

The thought both excited me, and scared the hell out of me.

Here, close to this kind of magic, created with the powers of
both Heaven and Hell, I could feel the ghosts. I wasn’t clairvoyant—or whatever
Jordan really was. But I knew when the spirits sensed the opening in the
barrier. I felt them move past us like a cool breeze. I felt their joy at being
free.

“Do you feel it?” I whispered.

“Yes. I feel it.” His arm tightened at my waist, his attention
fixed on the barrier itself.

Everyone who’d died in the city since the barrier had been put
in place—they’d all been trapped. They’d gathered in the abandoned house,
waiting for the time that they could escape. That time was now.

I turned to look at him as something very important occurred to
me. “Could you leave, too? You could go right now. Out of the city, away from
the barrier...Heaven could pull you back. Could heal you.”

He studied the torn barrier, the edges glowing with visible
light. “It’s not that easy for me now.”

“Why not?”

“The mission’s not over yet and I know I won’t even be on their
radar again until it is. With this soul in me, I’m basically invisible to
Heaven. So I’m not leaving—not this city, not this problem and not you.” When I
opened my mouth to argue, his gaze grew tense. “No arguing. My decision isn’t
going to change. Got it? I’m not going anywhere till this is over.”

I blew out a breath. “Stubborn.”

“Remind you of anyone?”

“Yeah, your older brother.”

He snorted at that before his expression shifted to one that
was more wary. “You can’t tell anyone about this.”

“Kraven already knows what I am.”

“He doesn’t know this. This is our secret. Promise me you won’t
tell him.”

“One more secret?”

“It’s important.”

I nodded, my throat tight. “Fine. I promise.”

We kept watching until the cut in the barrier resealed itself a
minute later. The souls had been released to find their way to the
afterlife.

We, however, were still stuck inside until further notice.

* * *

Once we got back to my house, Bishop lingered by the
front door, as if uncertain if he should come all the way inside.

“I need to meet up with the others,” he said. “And you need to
rest. It’s been a hell of a couple of days.”

I nodded. “Understatement. Major understatement.”

But there was something I needed to get off my chest first,
something I wouldn’t let be buried in the silence between us. Bishop was the one
who was amazing at hiding secrets—not me.

“I saw your execution,” I said quietly.

His gaze shot to mine. “What?”

“When I touched you...when you were possessed. I saw you. You
were hanged.” I swallowed hard and looked at the floral area rug my mother had
bought to warm up the otherwise cold front foyer. “You thought you deserved it.
And when it happened, it took a long time before you died. I felt what you felt.
It was horrible.”

His expression darkened and he turned away from me. “Samantha,
I really wish you hadn’t had to experience that.”

I moved closer to him and grabbed his arm. “All of those bad
things back then. You keep them so close to you, that’s why they’re so vivid.
There’s so much about you that you won’t tell me, but...”

“But what?”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “But I think I have
you figured out.”

He snorted softly. “You have, have you?”

“I’m not afraid of you, despite everything I’ve seen and
learned. I know you, Bishop, and you’re kind of amazing.”

He looked away again, but I grabbed his face and made him look
at me. “And whatever happened in the past? I don’t care about any of it. Who you
are now, what you do and how you look at me. Those are the only things that
matter. To hell with everything else.”

His gaze searched mine. “I thought I’d lost you tonight.”

My throat hurt too much to swallow. “Ditto. But I’m alive. And
so are you. We both got second chances.”

I finally let go of him and paced nervously to the door, then
back.

He watched me, his expression wary again. “What is it?”

I’d been thinking about this ever since I got Stephen’s note.
Ever since we went to the barrier. I knew it was the right thing to do.

“I want you to have something,” I said firmly. “I want you to
hold on to it for me, because I don’t trust anyone else with it.”

“What?”

I pressed the gold locket into his hand—such a small object for
what it carried inside. Bishop looked with shock at the chain now hanging from
his grip.

“I realized two very important things tonight.”

He tore his confused gaze away from the locket to meet mine.
“The first?”

“That I can’t have my soul back. Not yet, anyway. What’s been
happening here in Trinity is bigger than me. Bigger than any of us. And now with
Zach and Cassandra gone...” My voice broke. “Well, you guys need as much help as
you can get. I won’t be able to access my nexus abilities if I have a soul
again. I won’t be able to help you if I’m just a human.”

Bishop stared down at the gold locket as if stunned I’d give
such a thing to him. “What’s the second reason you’re giving me this?”

A smile tugged at my lips and I gave him a small shrug. “I
guess I’m a sucker for symbolism.”

His gaze met mine again and there were so many questions and
doubts in his blue eyes, but he didn’t give voice to any of them.

“So?” I ventured when silence fell between us. “Will you take
it? Will you keep it safe for me until I need it back?”

Finally, he nodded, then pulled the chain over his head,
tucking the locket underneath his shirt. “I promise to take very good care of
it.”

“Thank you.”

The smile he gave me then made my heart swell so much I thought
my ribs might break. But it felt good. Really good.

He slid his fingers into my long, tangled hair and drew me
closer so he could kiss me. Electricity shivered between us, and I swear I could
see sparks, even though my eyes were closed. I felt them, that’s for sure.

It felt so good to kiss Bishop with nothing at risk except my
heart.

Chapter 30

There was a demon waiting for me in my bedroom.

He reclined on my bed with his arms folded behind his head.

I froze in the doorway.

“What are you doing here?”

“Rough night, huh?” Kraven said.

“Get out of my bed.”

He grinned. “I like how that sounds. Your bed. Me in it.”

“I swear, Kraven. Don’t mess with me right now.”

He sat up and glanced around at the room. “It’s a bit frillier
and pinker than I pictured for you, but not bad. I could get used to this.”

He was messing with me. I decided not to feed the troll by
making any more demands or stomping my feet like a child. Instead, I stood there
with my hands on my hips, glaring at him.

“Ouch. I can feel that all the way over here.” He swung his
legs over the side of my bed and stood up. “Saw my little brother take off a
minute ago. No sleepovers planned with your beloved? Sad, gray-girl. Very sad.
Oh, wait, you’re not a gray anymore, are you? You went through stasis, though. I
know that. I saw it with my own eyes. You were in bad shape. And then—
boom
—you’re all better.”

I spread my hands, trying my best to ignore his taunts about
Bishop. “I died. I came back.”

He studied me carefully. “As what, exactly?”

“As myself. Nothing else. I feel fine.”

“Not evil?”

“No.”

“Too bad. Evil can be fun.” He moved closer to me, cocking his
head as he watched me. It made me extremely uneasy about being alone with
him.

I slid my hand down my right thigh so I could feel the outline
of my dagger. “Don’t even think about trying to hurt me.”

He let out a quick laugh, one of surprise. “You really think
I’d do that?”

“I don’t know what you’re capable of.”

“You’re right. You don’t.”

“It’s been a rough night, Kraven. I want you to leave.”

“We lost two angels tonight. Zach—I actually liked that guy.”
His expression darkened. “He didn’t give me any problems. Shouldn’t have died.
Then little Miss Secret Mission. She should have told us the whole truth from
day one.”

“Why? Would you have helped save her?”

He didn’t reply to that. “Roth is MIA.”

“He liked her. A lot. They were falling for each other.”

“Roth’s a dick. You really think he’s capable of feeling
anything for anyone?”

“I do.” I said it with certainty. I’d seen the look in his eyes
when she’d been wrenched out of his arms. There was no doubt in my mind that his
feelings toward her were completely real.

“And you think my brother feels the same way toward you?”

I glared at him. “It bothers you that I like him.”

“Like? Not love? Was it his
love
that brought you back from death?” He said it mockingly. “Do you two have a
Romeo and Juliet thing going on? The deadly angel-boy falls for the hybrid chick
who, in another life, he would’ve been commanded to kill. Adorable, right?”

I looked into his amber eyes, but couldn’t break through the
walls he had up. Frankly, I wasn’t in the mood for a glimpse at his tortured
mind tonight. Despite the ability he had to press my buttons, knowing what I did
about him made my heart hurt. “I’m sorry for the pain you feel when it comes to
him.”

His flinch would have been barely noticeable if I hadn’t been
looking for it. “I feel nothing for him.”

“Wrong. You hate him for what he did because you once loved him
more than anyone else.” I let out a shaky sigh. “You have a right to feel that
way.”

His jaw tightened. “Permission from you to hate my brother.
Gee, I feel all tingly inside.”

“You trusted him and he betrayed you in the worst way possible.
I don’t know what you’ve been through in however many years it’s been since you
died—”

“Was killed,” he corrected me.

“Tonight I saw another one of Bishop’s memories. His
execution.” I swallowed hard. “I heard his thoughts. I saw what he saw—I felt
what he felt. He was broken by what he’d done to you. And he paid the price for
it. He missed you. You were the only one he wanted forgiveness from.”

That snarky edge faded from his gaze. “Really.”

I nodded.

The remainder of his humorous mask fell away. “You can tell me
whatever you want—whatever you think you saw. Doesn’t change a damn thing. And
it doesn’t make it true.”

“You tried to save him twice tonight. I think down deep you
still care about him.”

“Is that what you think?” He moved closer and backed me up
against the wall. I looked up at him, commanding myself not to show fear as his
eyes began to glow red.

I nodded again.

I waited for him to say something else on the subject, but
instead, he twisted a long piece of my hair around his finger. “So you’re a
nexus.” His lips curved. “I know you won’t admit to it in so many words. It’s
enough that I know it’s true.”

I pushed his hand away from me. “You don’t know anything about
me.”

“Wrong. I know enough. I know in the three kisses we shared
that you weren’t only kissing me because you had to. You liked it, too.”

My cheeks heated. “You’re dreaming.”

“And now you can kiss Bishop again without being in danger of
sucking both his soul and his life out of him. Right?”

This was ridiculous. I was giving him way too much time to try
to manipulate me. “Get to your point, Kraven. I know you have one. I’m tired and
I want to go to bed.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“Only if you’re delusional.”

His smile grew and his eyes went back to their usual amber
shade. “Sweetness, you can deny it all you want, but you do feel something for
me. I know it.”

“You’re right, James.” I said his real name to see if it would
get a reaction. It did. He didn’t like it, but he didn’t correct me this time. I
slid my hands slowly up his chest and he froze, his brows drawing together. I
placed my hands on either side of his face. “I do feel something for you.”

His lips curved to the side. “I knew it.”

I studied his handsome face, that glimmer of victory already in
his eyes that I was about to admit to something that would cause Bishop pain. “I
feel pity for you.”

That cockiness vanished in a heartbeat and he stepped back from
me so fast it was as if I’d been set on fire.

“Save the pity for someone else,” he said, his voice now cold.
“Besides, you can lie to yourself if you want to, but I know the truth. I see it
in your eyes.”

“Yeah, right. You are delusional. Rinse and repeat. All you
want to do with me is make Bishop jealous. I read your mind, remember? I saw
that darkness in there. That vengeance you’re jonesing for. But it’s not going
to happen.”

“Whatever you say, sweetness.” He looked away, toward my
window, as if shielding his expression from me long enough to gather his
smart-ass mask back up. “My brother gave you a gift—that little dagger of yours.
Nice and shiny. I have something shiny to give you, too. That’s why I came here
tonight.”

I didn’t ask what it was. I just stood there waiting, my fists
clenched at my sides.

“A name,” he said quietly, that glint of mischievousness
returning to his face. “Adam Drake. And a year. 1878.”

My heart started to pound harder. “Who is that?”

“Use that little computer of yours.” He nodded at the laptop on
my bedside table. “Do a little digging. You might find some interesting
details.”

I turned away from him, my head swimming. When I looked back
again, Kraven was gone.

Immediately, after closing the window, I went to my laptop. I
almost decided to forget the whole thing and put what he’d said out of my mind
forever. But then, with shaking hands, and a slight hesitation, I went ahead and
searched the name and date—Adam Drake 1878.

It got a couple direct hits. And a picture.

Adam Drake...was Bishop.

It was Bishop’s real name, the name he wouldn’t tell me no
matter how many times I’d asked.

My hands trembled as I clicked through to an obscure web
article and I read it quickly, my stomach tying itself into knots.

Adam Drake was eighteen years old when he was hanged in New
York in 1878. He was in a group of grave robbers and body snatchers who worked
for Kara Drake. His mother.

Kara was his
mother
. Kraven’s
mother, too.

Adam had killed his brother, James, nineteen years of age.

And he’d also killed twenty-five other people. With a
dagger.

James had been his first victim.

These pieces of Bishop’s puzzle clicked into place and left me
stunned and sickened as I stared at the grainy black-and-white photo.

Bishop had been a serial killer.

And I’d just freely given him both my heart and soul.