Roaring Midnight (Macey Gardella #1)

Roaring Midnight (Macey Gardella #1) Page 14

~ Wherein Three Becomes a Crowd ~

Macey was awake long before she opened her eyes or even stirred next to Grady.

Paralyzed by her thoughts, by the knowledge that her life had irrevocably changed-that the moment she rose from this oasis of comfort and pleasure, reality would intrude sharply-she lay there for a long time. Basking as long as she dared.

Grady was warm and solid beside her. She felt the soft tickle of his thick, shiny hair against her temple, the easy thump of his heart beneath her palm. The smooth warmth of the top of his foot and ankle was wedged beneath her heel, where their legs had settled, entwined.

Each body adhered gently to the other, warm and moist due to the heat generated from their activity and the result of skin-to-skin slumber. She listened to him breathe, measured her own indrawn breaths against his, considering how they mingled and then separated.

Mingled...and then separated. Just as Macey must separate from Grady, both physically and emotiamned lonely life, being a Venator.

He was smart. Oh, Grady was too smart. Too bold, too determined. He knew too much and was determined to know more. He was a good man, a strong one. He was everything she'd want in a lover, a partner.

And like his aunt had done, he could be so easily caught in a crossfire- of vampire and Venator. He wasn't equipped to face the undead. He wasn't part of that world, and she couldn't expose him to that danger any more than she'd already done.

It's a damned lonely life, being a Venator.

The phone rang in the living room below, breaking the silence with a shrill chime. Macey's eyes flew open. The interlude was over.

Grady sighed and broke away from her, rolling off the bed onto his feet. "Linwood, probably," he said, shoving his legs into his pants. "If it's a call not a visit, it's likely good news."

He started to leave, then turned suddenly and came back to the bed. He bent and kissed her on the mouth, gentle and filled with promise, then backed away reluctantly as the telephone continued to ring. "Don't move."

Macey sat up as he left the room. Low beams of sunlight spilled across the bed as she climbed off and located her skirt. Still daylight; the vampires wouldn't be out and about yet. This gave her only a minor sense of relief. She looked around the room as she buttoned her blouse, knowing it would be the last time she'd see this place.

Moments later she walked down the stairs, ready to face her changed life.

When she reached the living room, Grady was just hanging up the phone. Dressed only in half-fastened trousers, he was all sleek and muscled and rumpled, with his unruly hair and five o'clock shadow. When he turned, his attention swept her from head to toe. The expression in his eyes made her heart give an extra, off-rhythm bump.

"Was that your uncle?" she asked, ignoring the fluttering in her belly and the sudden intense desire to head back upstairs.

"Flora was home sleeping when they got to her boarding house today. She's been working at a cabaret at night, according to her landlady, which is probably why you haven't heard from her."

Macey's tension eased a little. "What about Dottie?"

"She was more than happy to answer the questions from the beat cop Linwood sent over. And...you're dressed."

So her friends were both safe. For now. But how much longer? And how much longer for him? "Thank you for doing that, Grady." She kept the sofa positioned between them, because she knew if he got close enough to touch her, she wouldn't say what she needed to say. "I've got to go."

He stilled. "It's Sunday afternoon. Where do you have to go?" He edged to one end of the sofa.

"I've got things to take care of."

"I'll come with you." He slipped around the sofa faster than she realized, and all at once was there, taking her hand. His eyes were cool and determined. "Don't think I don't know what you're trying to do."

She pulled away. "Grady, I have to go. You don't know the whole story, you don't understand. You can't. You can't be part of this-or part of my life."

"What are you talking about? I can't be part of your life?"

"You read the book. You know about it-more than you should. More than is safe for you to know."

"Christ, Macey, that's not-"

But she had to barrel on, to get it all out before she lost her nerve. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have stayed. It was selfish of me to do so-"

"I wanted you. To be with you. It was me more than it was you."

She shook her head. "It was selfish. And wrong. I led you on. And I'm sorry. So it's best if I just leave now."

"Macey." Now there was a hint of anger. "Don't be playing a fool. You're safe here. They can't get in. I made sure of it."

She had to blink away the sudden stinging in her eyes. "I know. But that's what you don't understand, Grady. I can't stay here. I can't be safe. I have to go out there and...stop them."

She thought he'd argue. She even, deep inside, hoped he'd drag her into his arms and kiss her senseless, convince her to stay. And maybe she would...for a little while longer. But he merely looked at her, his expression unreadable. Except for those eyes: the steady, glittering blue of a stormy lake.

"I have to stop them before they hurt anyone else I care about. Like you."

His jaw moved and tension rolled off him into the space between them. "I suppose you mean that as a compliment."

"Grady-"

Someone pounded loudly on the door.

Grady flung her a dark look, then strode to the foyer. He'd hardly opened the door when a familiar voice demanded, "Where is she?"

Macey turned when she heard Chas. She couldn't see anything but his legs, for Grady blocked the entrance. A little shaky, she drew in a calming breath and walked over.

"I need to find Macey. Do you know-oh, bloody hell." Chas had seen her.

"It's probably best if you let him in." Macey looked from one to the other, then outside to make sure no one else was lurking. "We don't need to have this conversation on your front stoop."

Grady gave the newcomer a measured look, but stepped back to allow him entrance. Macey led the way into the living room as Chas hissed, "This is just bloody great. I've been looking all over the damned place for you, and here you are, hiding out in a fucking love nest. What the hell are you thinking?"

"Mrs. Gutchinson is dead. They killed her too. Tortured her." She kept her voice steady and hard, even as the horrific images threatened to swarm her thoughts. "I found her."

Chas didn't give an inch. "I'm sorry about that, and about your friend, but we've got a bigger bloody damned problem on our hands. Vioget is missing."

Her breath caught. "Sebastian's gone? Since when?"

"No one's seen him since this morning. He never came back from his visit to the church."

"They took him. Alvisi and Iscariot."

"Of course they did. He's either dead and they have the rings, or he will be shortly. Which is why the last thing I needed to be doing was wasting my goddamned time looking for you."

"Maybe you should have been looking for this Vioget person instead."

They both turned to Grady. Chas's expression held a glint of dangerous humor. "Indeed. But now that I've found Macey, there will be two of us doing the work."

"Three of us." Grady gave her a meaningful look.

"Goddammit, I knew you were trouble." Chas vibrated with impatience and anger.

"Grady, I told you-"

But before she could finish her sentence, Chas moved. His fist connected sharply with Grady's jaw at the perfect angle, and the man dropped like a stone.

Macey turned on him in fury. "That wasn't necessary."

"The hell it wasn't. Let's go." He spun her toward the door and, as he led the way he said over his shoulder, "Fix your damned blouse. The buttons are wrong."

"I can't keep coming after you and saving your arse," Chas said as they got out of a cab.

After leaving Grady's, Macey had gone with Chas to The Silver Chalice to make sure Sebastian hadn't returned. To their increasMax Dentons blooding concern, he hadn't. So she'd changed into clean, comfortable clothing, and she and her partner prepared themselves to venture into the den of vampires-a place known as The Blood Club.

Rather than call attention to herself by wearing men's clothing-which would have been very comfortable and provided excellent range of movement-Macey had chosen to wear a frock. But it was short and light of weight, and would allow her to be as active as she needed. No heeled Mary Janes for her tonight; she'd chosen comfortable flats for footwear, and without stockings that needed to be pulled up or kept in place with a garter.

"I don't expect you to keep coming after me, Chas." Macey looked around. She didn't recognize the street they were on.

He gave her a dark look. "Obviously." He gestured for her to turn the corner. "You can't see him again, you know."

Not that Grady would want to see her again, even if she could. She gritted her teeth. "My private life is my business."

He laughed. "Not when you're a Venator. Not when there are lives at stake. I told you-it's a hell of a lonely life. If you want...companionship, it has to be with someone who understands our world."

"That sounds suspiciously like an invitation, Chas."

"It's not-"

"And like someone sticking his nose somewhere it definitely doesn't belong."

He shook his head and made a sound of disgust. "Have it your way. You're as stubborn as your father was."

Macey faltered, but kept walking. "Stubborn. I wouldn't think that'd be a liability for a Venator."

"There's stubborn, and then there's blindly stubborn. Max Denton made the tragic mistake of thinking he could have it all-a wife, a family, and a life as a Venator. And you know what happened."

"My mother was killed. By the vampires." And he sent me away. For the first time, Macey felt a twinge of sympathy for her absent father, a glimmer of understanding. She'd seen firsthand what violence the undead could visit upon someone she cared for. How much worse would it have been for him?

"They were unusually vicious and brutal with her." Chas's voice was flat. "And Max...well, it might have been just as well he sent you away. For a number of reasons. And here we are."

Macey looked up at the neat sign. Rico's Tailor Shop. "So this is where the Tutela congregates."

"Among others. Those who are part of the society frequent this place, sure, but The Blood Club caters also to those who wish to dabble in the pleasures of the fanged. And it's a way for the undead to find their prey. Alvisi is the proprietor, and he runs it as slickly as Capone runs his saloons. He employs mortal and undead; text-indent: 18.0px; font: 100% ""; min-height: 21.0px} p.p, and 7V, men and women, in order to provide a wide range of entertainment." He stopped. "It's best if we aren't seen together. I'll go first; you circle the block then come in."

She nodded, for that was the plan they'd discussed. But when he went into Rico's, leaving her to continue on, she felt a spike of apprehension and fear. Walking into a den of vampires and vampire lovers was a daunting prospect.

But she was well prepared, with stakes and other tools hidden all over her person, and Chas would be there as well. Plus Temple had seemed confident her student was capable of protecting herself, and was actually eager to let Macey employ the skills she'd learned in the past weeks. Infiltrating The Blood Club was the best and easiest way to find out what had happened to Sebastian-for if he'd been abducted or killed, surely all of the undead and their Tutela would be talking about it.

Still. Macey had only staked one vampire. And her most recent experience-that horrifying interlude in the back of Iscariot's limousine-had left her shaken more than she wanted to admit. Not to mention the haunting sight of Mrs. Gutchinson's ruined body.

But when it was time for Macey to go inside Rico's and make her way into the dim club, she did so without hesitation. Even before she was inside, the icy chill at the back of her neck was nauseatingly strong, sending eerie prickles down her spine.

She curled her fingers around the small pocketbook that held nothing but a stake, a vial of holy water, and a few dollars for cab fare. The place was just as she'd pictured it: dim, smoky, and filled with tables of people. But there was the scent of blood in the air, and when she looked more carefully at some of the patrons in the booths, she saw kissing and sexual petting, as well as wrists and throats being fed upon. The facial expressions of the victims ranged from ecstatic to pained to bored. She didn't spot Chas yet.

"What a pleasant sight," said a voice next to her. "What brings such a lovely being in to The Blood Club tonight?"

Macey turned to see a young man with his hair slicked back, wearing a provocative smile. It took her a moment to confirm that he was a vampire-and that was fine with her. "It's my first time," she confessed, trying to appear wide-eyed and hesitant. "A friend of mine told me about it. She said the sensation is..."

Her voice trailed off as she noticed the man who could only be Count Alvisi. He sat at a small table that was surrounded by women, and he was deep in conversation with another man. His entourage of females were all dressed in blue with matching headdresses. Silver and white feathers erupted from the round, blue emblem on the front of each headband, and they were dusted with something glittery.

"Who's that?" she asked, suppressing a sickly shiver. Even from this distance, she could feel the strength of pure malevolence.

"That is the boss."

Macey widened her eyes. "Oh. I thought..." She leaned closer, pitching her voice into a low whisper. "I thought Al Capone was the boss here."

Her companion laughed in derision. "Capone? Not at all. In fact, Big Al has been angling to join us-for, you realize, he's nothing without his machine guns. Alvisi wields the true power in Chicago-power that will soon be greater than you can fathom." He took her hand and raised it to his lips, pressing them against it in a soft kiss. Soft, dry lips: one cold as ice, one warm, in an awful, strange sensation. When he looked up, his fangs were just barely visible and his eyes burned soft ruby, tugging at her with their thrall. "Perhaps you might someday be asked to join us. Alvisi prefers blondes, but he would likely make an exception for one as lovely as you. I'm certain I could convince him. And then you would be young and beautiful forever."

"Oh." Macey fluttered her lashes and tried to appear flattered. "Do you truly think so? He would make an exception for me? How would that happen?"

He tucked her hand around his arm. "Permit me to show you, my lovely."

Macey allowed him to lead her off, but when he attempted to sit her at a table, she remembered the warning Chas had given her. Don't do anything in sight of anyone else, or we will be discovered. "I...isn't there somewhere private we could go? I don't think I want my first time to be here." She gave him a shy look. "In front of people."

"Why of course." His eyes gleamed with pleasure, leaving her uncertain as to whether it had always been his plan to get her alone, or whether he was merely delighted with an unexpected turn of events.

Conscious of the extra stake strapped to a thigh beneath her skirt, and of the long chain holding a silver cross beneath her frock, Macey went willingly with her escort. When they neared Alvisi, she angled her face down in order to keep from being recognized. Her slick vampire guide led her through an exit at the far end of the club, and beyond it was a small hallway studded with more doors.

A brothel for the undead, where the customers-or, more accurately, victims-might or might not be left alive.

He opened a door and bowed her gallantly through, then closed and locked it behind him with an ominous click. When he turned, his fangs were at full extension, and his eyes burned unholy red. "Now then." He advanced on her, no longer smooth and easy but openly intent. "Did you say this was your first time?"

"Yes." Macey already had her stake in hand, clutching it behind her back as he shoved her toward the large bed in the center of the compact room. She tumbled onto it, keeping her gaze averted from his powerful, enthralling one as he surged onto the mattress next to her.

He held her by the throat, his body wedged onto one side of hers. "You surprise me, my lovely. I thought I'd captured myself a frightened flower. But I see no fear in your eyes. This could be even more enjoyable than I expected."

Macey's stake was hidden beneath her hip, cloaked by the bedclothes mussed from her fall. He was intent on her bare throat and n" His mo