Night Magic, Page 2

  “What am I going to do with all this stuff?” I asked as we left what I declared our last stop of the night. “I’m basically homeless.”

  Aleric made a tsking sound. “Do you have any idea how many empty homes there are in Philadelphia right now? You can have any one of them you want. Hell, you can have a different one for each night.”

  Yet again, Aleric was saying things that should have bothered me, reminding me how many people had died since the madness began and how many people had been Nightstruck and had therefore abandoned their previous lives. Instead, I just found it convenient.

  “Is there somewhere close?” I asked. “I am past ready to get off my feet.”

  He took me to a fashionable little old house on Delancy Street. He promised me the place was vacant, its owner dead for three days now. I was still half convinced we’d run into a family member or someone else who might take exception to us occupying the place, but no one came running or yelled when Leo broke down the door for us. Even in my furs, the warm air that wafted out of the house felt inviting, and I entered eagerly, expecting Aleric to be right behind me.

  But when I turned to thank him for such a wonderful night, he was still standing in the doorway, Leo hovering at his side.

  “I can’t cross the threshold,” he reminded me.

  That was the second time in one night I’d forgotten he wasn’t human. I wondered how long it would take that fact to sink into my head. I looked around at the elegant home I was invading, wondering what I was supposed to do with the rest of the night. I wasn’t even remotely sleepy, and though my legs were tired and I was happy to be out of the cold, I was filled with so much energy that there was no way I was just going to sit and veg on someone’s couch. Especially not all by myself.

  I pouted at Aleric. “It’s no fun without you.” I had disliked and distrusted Aleric since the first moment I’d met him, and yet tonight he’d been great company. I wasn’t interested in going our separate ways.

  “Tell you what,” Aleric suggested. “Why don’t you raid the fridge, see if there’s anything good. The owner hasn’t been dead all that long, so it’s not like stuff should be rotting yet. Then look around, see if there’s anything you want, and come back out. I’ll be waiting for you right here.”

  It still didn’t sound like much fun. Not compared to breaking into designer boutiques and trying on clothes and shoes I never could have dreamed of affording. But my stomach was rumbling, and I had to get food from somewhere. It wasn’t like we could just waltz into a restaurant and order dinner.

  “All right,” I said. “I’ll be out soon.”

  I found the kitchen and discovered that my late and unwilling host had been a junk food addict. The fridge contained a cornucopia of leftover Chinese food as well as what was left of some kind of gourmet pizza that had artichokes on it. The walls and the ceiling above me were making me feel claustrophobic. I didn’t feel like taking the time to heat anything up, and cold artichoke pizza sounded disgusting. Instead, I raided the pantry, where I found several unopened bags of chips as well as a box of chocolate-chip cookies that were just a little bit stale. There was also a box of S’mores Pop-Tarts. I shoved a couple packets of Pop-Tarts into my pocket for later, then grabbed a handful of cookies and a bag of chips. One more trip to the fridge netted me a can of Coke and a three-quarters-full bottle of white wine that was probably super expensive.

  I couldn’t stand being inside any longer, so with bulging pockets—and probably with smears of chocolate on my face from shoving down a couple of the cookies—I made my way back to the front door, where Aleric was waiting just as he’d promised. He smiled at my food choices.

  “I see you’re going for the gourmet dinner option,” he teased.

  I gave him a haughty look. “I have a couple of the basic food groups covered. Chips and cookies are food groups, aren’t they? Besides, are you going to tell me I can’t have dessert unless I eat my veggies?”

  He grinned. “Of course not. I’m also not going to tell you you can’t drink that wine until you’re twenty-one.”

  I’d had much more extensive brushes with rebellion that night, but somehow the idea that I could eat chocolate-chip cookies for dinner and wash them down with wine—and not care that it wasn’t good for me or even legal—filled me with delight. I let out a little whoop and threw my arms around Aleric. I probably crushed half the chips in the bag I was holding.

  “Being Nightstruck is the best thing that ever happened to me!” I declared as Aleric hugged me back and I inhaled the scent of his jacket again. “Thank you so much. And I’m sorry I was so … difficult about it.”

  If I’d just stopped fighting it, I could have been Nightstruck ages ago. Maybe then my father would still be alive, since the only reason Piper had killed him was to make me so miserable I’d be vulnerable to the temptations of the night.

  I braced for the wave of guilt that should have followed that thought, but it didn’t come. My father had been the police commissioner. While he was hardly a patrol officer, he was very much the kind of man who would throw himself into danger if he thought someone needed saving. A hero. Which meant even if Piper hadn’t killed him to get to me, he probably would have gotten himself killed going out into the night to rescue people. It was in his nature.

  Don’t get me wrong. I still wished he weren’t dead. But my emotions felt strangely distant, and very safe. Nothing could devastate me now, nothing could kill my buoyant mood.

  “I know you’re tired of walking,” Aleric said, still holding me. “How about we make for Rittenhouse Square and have ourselves a little picnic? If you feel you can’t make it that far, I’m sure Leo here would be happy to give you a ride.” He patted Leo’s head, heedless of the hissing snakes.

  “Um, I’m good.” No way was I getting on that creature’s back and riding him like a horse. Even if it weren’t for the snakes and the scorpion tail, he was made of bronze, which would make for a very hard and very cold seat. Besides, the square was only a few blocks away.

  Rittenhouse Square is a great place for a picnic on a warm and sunny day. I wasn’t sure how great it would be in the wee hours of a frigid winter’s night, but I was game to find out. Especially with Aleric and that bottle of wine keeping me company.

  Since Aleric couldn’t cross the thresholds of stores, he ordered another pack of Nightstruck to bring us a blanket for our picnic. I don’t know where they got it from, and I didn’t ask. He laid the blanket down on a patch of grass, and I emptied my pockets. I wasn’t sure I would feel much like eating with Leo hovering so near—even being in his presence for hours had not yet warmed me to him—so I was relieved when he wandered off. He was still carrying all my packages when he did, but since I didn’t know what I would do with my ill-gotten gains anyway, I decided that was no great loss.

  Aleric’s Nightstruck brought us a slew of super-soft pillows to help insulate and protect us from the frozen ground, and they also thoughtfully provided wineglasses. We tore into the chips and cookies, then split a packet of Pop-Tarts. I quickly discovered that wine does not go well with cookies or Pop-Tarts. I’m sure that technically it doesn’t go all that well with chips, either, but at least it didn’t taste gross.

  The wine added a lovely buzz to my already cheerful mood, and between the alcohol and the mink coat, I was pleasantly warm. Aleric’s playful flirting didn’t hurt, either.

  I’d been in an odd sort of relationship with Luke, Piper’s ex-boyfriend. Well, sort of ex. The two of them were still officially going out when Piper became Nightstruck and they lost interest in each other. I’d had a crush on Luke for forever, but I’d always figured he was out of my league. We seemed to have developed some mutual attraction, though there were too many extenuating circumstances for me to consider him my boyfriend.

  Luke was out of my league, but someone like Aleric ordinarily wouldn’t even know my league existed. He was seriously the hottest guy I’d ever seen in real life. Like, if I’d seen him on TV walkin
g down the red carpet with some supermodel on his arm, I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised. To have him flirting with me was more intoxicating than the wine.

  My more sensible side was dormant, but not dead. I knew that Aleric was only interested in me because I was the one who’d opened the doorway between our worlds. He was a construct created by the alchemy of my blood mixing with magic, and that created a bond between us that had nothing to do with any true emotional connection or friendship. If it weren’t for the blood bond, there was no way he’d be spending his whole night showing me a good time. He wouldn’t even have noticed me, much less flirted with me.

  Strangely, knowing all that didn’t make it any less fun. I didn’t have a whole lot of experience with flirting, myself, but I tried my best to keep up. It helped that I was no longer self-conscious or embarrassed when I said something stupid. Instead of blushing and stammering and trying to take my words back, I just zipped right on ahead.

  And time zipped right on by, too. When we were finished with the wine, and I was hoping we could maybe take this flirting thing to the next level, the blackness of night was more like a deep navy blue.

  “Dawn is coming,” Aleric said, taking my hand.

  I remembered the previous dawn, when I’d tried so desperately to escape the Transition. I remembered watching the dawn light spread, the city changing back into its daylight self inch by inch. And after that … I remembered nothing, until I was suddenly walking down the street with Aleric.

  “What happens to us at dawn?” I asked.

  From all accounts, the Nightstruck were gone by the time the sun came out, but to my knowledge, no one knew where they went. You’d think becoming Nightstruck myself would have solved the mystery, but though I strained to remember where I’d been during the hours of the day, I couldn’t scrape up the tiniest hint.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Aleric said, tugging me to my feet.

  The city was beginning to change, the light progressing steadily toward us.

  “I’m not afraid,” I told him, and it was true. It should have bothered me not to know where I’d been for hours on end, but it was more a source of curiosity than an actual fear. “I just want to know what happens to us.”

  Aleric gave me an enigmatic smile. Maybe he was about to answer my question—he’d been pretty good about answering questions all night—but before he had a chance, the dawn light reached us.

  * * *

  On my second full night as one of the Nightstruck, I got falling-down drunk for the first—and possibly the last—time of my life. Aleric had some of his people raid a liquor store for us. We sat in Rittenhouse Square for another picnic, and the Nightstruck soon arrived with a shopping cart full of assorted liquors. They’d kindly thrown in a variety of mixers and glasses as well. Aleric made me drink after drink. Many of them, I only took one sip of. Turns out I’m a picky drinker. Who knew?

  I fell dangerously in love with chocolate vodka. It felt a little like battery acid going down, burning all the way to my stomach, but that rich, chocolaty aftertaste was to die for, so I kept drinking it even as the ground turned unsteady beneath me and my limbs started to feel floaty and strange, like they belonged to someone else.

  “I’ve never had a hangover before,” I slurred to Aleric as I took another warming sip of pure vodka. “Guess I’m all for new experiences tonight.” I’d also never drunk so much I felt like hurling before, and based on the sheer volume of alcohol I’d consumed, that was how I feared this night would end.

  “You won’t have to suffer through a hangover,” Aleric said. I knew he was referring to the fact that I wouldn’t be waking up in the morning after having overindulged, and that reminded me that he had never answered my question the night before about what happened to us during the daytime. I once again had no idea where I’d been since we’d disappeared from the square last night.

  However, I was feeling too mellow and fuzzy-headed to tackle such a difficult question, so I let it go and drank some more. Sometime later, the Nightstruck brought us a wireless speaker along with a cell phone. The phone obviously belonged to someone who had an unholy love of music, because there were about a million songs loaded onto it. I tried to find a playlist I liked, but my vision was all swoony from the booze, and I doubt my fingers could have hit the right buttons even if I could have focused my eyes enough to read.

  Aleric snatched the phone from my hand, and soon music was blasting from the speaker. It was heavy metal, which wasn’t my favorite, but with the bass turned up the beat vibrated through my body and added to the dreamy pleasure of the booze.

  “Let’s dance,” Aleric said, tugging me to my feet.

  All around us, the Nightstruck were moving to the music, bodies writhing and whirling, hips gyrating as they abandoned themselves to the beat. Under the best of circumstances, I dance with all the grace and ease of Frankenstein’s monster. Since I was under the influence and thought standing up was a pretty tough challenge, I figured I was taking my own life in my hands by making any attempt to dance. However, I knew Aleric wouldn’t laugh at my clumsiness, wouldn’t make fun of me or judge me or grade me. And probably if one of the Nightstruck dared do any of the above, he or she would be dead in seconds, thanks to my knight in shining armor. So I danced.

  Okay, maybe saying I danced is a little … generous. I made it to my feet and moved my arms and legs around in some approximation of the beat. I tried to twirl once, and it would have turned into a face-plant if Aleric hadn’t grabbed me and held me up.

  Once he grabbed me, he didn’t let go. The music was still heavy metal, the lyrics—when I could understand them through the screaming—nasty and offensive, but I was content to wrap my arms around Aleric’s neck and slow dance with him. He put a hand against the small of my back, pulled me close so that my breasts were squashed against his chest and I could feel his whole body pressed up against mine. Tonight, he was wearing some musky aftershave that blended deliciously with the scent of his jacket. I buried my head in his shoulder and inhaled deeply. We were dancing so slowly we were practically standing still, and yet I felt the earth tipping and swaying under my feet.

  “I am so drunk,” I murmured against his chest. I’d kind of liked the sensation when it had first set in, but by now the wooziness and lack of balance was getting old. I guess becoming Nightstruck hadn’t swept away my control-freak nature. Thank goodness I wouldn’t have a hangover, and thank goodness I didn’t feel like puking. At least not yet. But I decided then and there that I’d be a little bit more careful about my alcohol consumption in the future.

  Aleric’s hands had somehow found their way to my butt, his fingers squeezing hard enough I could feel them through the thickness of the mink I still wore. The touch was meant to be sensual, but at that precise moment a wave of dizziness hit me. All I could think about was trying to stay upright as I clung to Aleric’s neck and ordered my knees to firm up. If he’d been hoping to get me drunk so he could get into my pants, he’d chosen the wrong strategy.

  Aleric lowered me down onto our nest of pillows, and the world steadied, though not by much. He lay on top of me, and one of his legs found its way between mine. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my face, smell the anise scent of the Sambuca he’d been drinking. I liked the scent of anise, but a single sip of Sambuca had threatened to come back up immediately, and that sensory memory made my stomach turn over. He tried to kiss me, but I turned my head, afraid I would puke if I tasted his mouth.

  “Never drink Sambuca again,” I ordered him, afraid he’d be angry with me for turning him down. I wanted to kiss him, wanted to do far more than kiss him, but not when I felt like this.

  Far from being annoyed, Aleric laughed lightly and brushed a stray lock of hair out of my face. “Your wish is my command, my queen,” he said and winked at me. His body was still pressed against mine, warm and inviting, and I loved the feel of him. It never even occurred to me to feel self-conscious about being outside and in full view of about
a dozen Nightstruck who were still dancing to the music. Of course, considering how much crotch-grabbing, twerking, and stripper-strutting was going on around me, I suppose we fit right in.

  “I’ve had a great time tonight,” I told him, still a little worried I’d offended him. I felt like I lost a little piece of myself as I looked up into those green eyes of his.

  “I know,” he said. “And I promise there will be many more good times to come. Sorry about the Sambuca. I’m still learning my way around what you like and don’t like.”

  My nose wrinkled, because he was still really close to me and I couldn’t help taking in that anise scent. My stomach felt wobbly and unsure. I wondered how long we had before dawn would take me away from all this. It was abundantly clear that if it didn’t come soon, I would have to suffer the consequences of my overindulgence—which was just wrong. Being Nightstruck was supposed to mean I didn’t have to suffer consequences, didn’t have to think about consequences.

  “I don’t want to be sick,” I said, even as I grew more certain I soon would be.

  “Just close your eyes,” Aleric advised me, “and it will all go away.”

  Despite my skepticism, I did as I was told.

  And the next thing I knew, I was standing on the corner of a street, my hand clasped with Aleric’s, my mind clear and my body steady.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “What did you do to me?” I asked Aleric, giving him a world-class glare. I couldn’t deny that being Nightstruck had changed some things about me, but I was still basically the same person I’d been before, and that person had been very fond of being in control. The thought that I could go from lying in the square with Aleric on top of me to walking down the street by his side without any memory of what had happened in between was unnerving to say the least.

  “You were starting to feel unwell,” he reminded me. “You didn’t want to be sick, so I made sure you weren’t.”