Sacrifice Me Page 2

  Besides, she was the one who had said she’d never seen him dance that way with anyone before.

  And, as much as I hated to admit it, no one had ever made me feel the way he had last night. Some nagging part of me wanted to know if he had felt it too, or if he’d just truly been trying to keep me safe.

  A bolt of fear shot through me.

  In the excitement and horror of the back alley drama, I had completely forgotten about the fact that someone else had been watching me from the shadows. Someone who had sent me black roses and invited me to Venom in the first place.

  Whoever they were, they knew about my mother. I could feel it in my bones. If nothing else came from the fact that I had to work in this place, I wanted to at least get to the bottom of that red invitation.

  Rend had recognized the paper. He’d said the man who used that type of paper was dangerous. But what he didn’t say was why someone like that would be interested in a nobody like me.

  “Azure?”

  She was making a pot of coffee and turned when I called her name.

  “I know you said you can’t tell me everything about what happens here at the club, but I do have one question,” I said. “What was in that drink last night? The Red Dragon?”

  A small smile played on her lips. “You liked it, huh? Want more of it?”

  “It’s not that,” I said. “I mean, yes, I loved it. But I’m more interested in finding out what it was and why it made Katy sick when it made me feel so great.”

  She bit her bottom lip and avoided my gaze as she poured some coffee into a thick paper cup.

  “In the bathroom last night, you gave her something to make her feel better,” I said, not letting it go. “You told her you didn’t know she was a normal. What did you mean by that?”

  She poured an obscene amount of cream and sugar into her cup and stirred it around before taking a sip. “Look, I get that you’re curious. I would be too. But I don’t know that it’s my place to talk to you about—”

  “Dammit,” I shouted, slamming my hand down on the counter. “I’m tired of everyone giving me the run around. What’s with all the secrets? I’m here, aren’t I? I’m wearing the t-shirt, right? If I’m going to work here and possibly risk my life to come to this place every night, I have a right to know what the hell is going on.”

  “You’re right.” Rend’s voice startled me.

  I turned and sucked in a deep breath. Damn, he was even more gorgeous in the light. I didn’t know that was even possible.

  Even though there was a good twenty feet or so between us, my body reacted as if his hands were on me. My skin burned for the feel of his warm fingertips on my skin.

  And that reaction was immediately followed by anger at the fact that I wanted him so badly. I had dated my fair share of guys and none of them had left me feeling so helpless and needy. I felt out of control around him. Like I wanted to know where I stood with him and if there was any way he was feeling even a fraction of what I was feeling right now.

  I hated that he had this power over me. No one had ever had power over me. Not even my own mother.

  Especially not my mother.

  Yet here he was. The one person in the world who might have answers about where she was or what kind of mess she’d managed to get herself into, and all I could think about was if I would ever again feel the burning heat of his skin against mine.

  “Morning, boss,” Azure said, looking from him to me and back again. “Seems your new employee has a lot of questions, so, I guess I’ll just leave you guys to it.”

  Rend nodded, but never once took his eyes off me.

  Azure passed by him, then threw one last bitter glance back toward me before she walked out the door.

  “Do you want a cup of coffee?” he asked.

  “I’d rather have some straight answers about what’s going on and what I’m really doing here,” I said.

  He gave a slight smile, amusement dancing in his dark black eyes. I wanted to get closer to see if there was still that hint of silver in them or if I had dreamed it up. “It wasn’t an either or kind of question, you know.”

  I relaxed my shoulders and walked over to pour myself a cup. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t do well with secrets and vague hints at things. I like honesty.”

  “Even when the truth is hard to hear?” He crossed over to stand beside me and grabbed a cup for himself.

  “Especially when the truth is hard to hear.”

  Our arms nearly touched and I had to work to control my heartbeat. Dammit, this guy was really getting to me.

  “You keep surprising me,” he said. “I’ve been around for a very long time, and believe me when I say that not many people can surprise me anymore.”

  I laughed. “You can’t be that much older than I am. You’re what? Twenty-seven? Twenty-eight?”

  He gave me a sideways glance and a somewhat frustrated groan.

  “What now?” I asked.

  He laughed. “Come on. Let’s go to my office where we can talk.”

  I finished pouring some creamer into my coffee and followed him down the hallway toward a set of black double-doors at the very end.

  Azure hadn't brought me back here to this end of the hallway.

  I expected to walk straight into his office when he opened the door, but instead there was a large open seating area with a door on the left, a door on the right, and a wide staircase straight ahead that led up to a second floor.

  Rend headed for the door on the right, opened it, and motioned for me to go on in.

  His office was not at all what I’d expected, either. I had pictured a small room that looked like the manager’s offices in other bars or restaurants where I’d waitressed. Usually there would be the standard metal desk cluttered with bills and notebooks and binders. Maybe a few pictures of family members. A filing cabinet or two. Harsh fluorescent lighting.

  But this was nothing at all like that.

  Rend’s office was a work of art. To begin with, it was huge. Instead of bright overhead lights, there was a warm amber glow coming from a series of round orbs hanging like pendants from the ceiling. A dark leather couch was pushed against the wall on one side of the room with a gorgeous Persian rug and a deep mahogany coffee table in front of it.

  His desk was an equally gorgeous color of deep mahogany brown, intricately carved. A real antique that looked like it probably cost a fortune. Instead of stacks of papers and binders, his desk was clean and organized. A sleek, flat-screen computer monitor was angled off to one side. My eyes were drawn to a beautiful green stone sitting on the edge of the desk. It almost looked as if it were glowing from within. I wanted to touch it, but wondered if it would be rude.

  Behind the desk was a wall of floor-to-ceiling bookcases lined with leather-bound books. Some of the titles weren’t even in English.

  And he thought I was full of surprises. He didn't seem like the literary type.

  The entire room was decorated to perfection. It was warm and comfortable, yet somehow strong. It matched him perfectly, even down to the strange painting of a dark and stormy sea with high cliffs as black as obsidian.

  He followed my gaze toward the painting. “Do you like it?”

  “It’s beautiful,” I said. “Haunting and sad in a way. Violent. Like a scene from a dream.”

  When he didn’t say anything else, I tore my eyes away from the painting to find him still staring at me. Would I ever be able to look into his eyes and not feel breathless?

  He looked away first this time. “Have a seat,” he said. “Make yourself comfortable.”

  “Thanks.”

  I sat in a large comfortable leather chair across from his desk as he took his place behind it.

  “What kind of stone is this?” I asked, again wishing I could touch it, but feeling that, like him, it was off-limits. “Is it an emerald?”

  The question was ridiculous. An emerald that big would cost a fortune.

  “No,” he said. “It’s actually something I made in my lab.”

  I looked up, questioning.

  “We’ll get to that,” he said. “Eventually. But first, you had some more pressing questions you wanted answered?”

  I took a sip of my coffee. It was strange. Now that I had him here, I couldn’t think of exactly what I wanted to ask him most. All of my questions were jumbled up inside my brain like a ball of rubberbands.

  “Why am I working here?” I asked. “It’s obviously not something you wanted when you told me to get lost and never come back.”

  He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. “That was before you got attacked in an alley and needed rescuing. What in the world possessed you to go out that back door, anyway?”

  “I thought I was asking the questions,” I said. His was not one I was prepared to answer just yet.

  “Fair enough,” he said. “For now.”

  “You told those men I was one of your girls,” I said.

  “To protect you,” he said. “If you work here long enough, you’ll begin to see that this club is a sort of middle ground. A safe zone for people from all sides of the game to gather and have a good time. It's a place where people from different sides can come to talk things out without fear of a war breaking out around them.”

  War? Jesus.

  “Why is it that everything you say just leads to more questions?” I asked, shaking my head.

  He laughed for the second time since we’d met and the sound sent a shot of warmth through my middle.

  “I know you’re hungry for answers. I can’t blame you,” he said. “But I need you to understand that I couldn’t possibly explain everything to you all at once. It would probably leave you comatose and drooling on the floor if I did that to you.”

  “T
hat’s a pretty image,” I mumbled into my coffee cup.

  “If I had my way, I’d turn back time and convince you to think twice before ever walking through the doors to my club,” he said. “The world you’ve stumbled upon here isn’t like the world you’re used to. There are people, things—dark things—here that can’t be easily explained. It’s very dangerous, especially for a girl like you.”

  His tongue stumbled a bit over the word girl.

  “And what kind of girl am I?” I asked.

  He leaned forward and placed his hands together on the desk, looking me right in the eyes.

  “That’s the real question here, isn’t it?”

  The Possibility Of Magic

  I gripped the edge of the chair.

  “Your whole life, you’ve been different, right?” he began, but didn’t wait for an answer. “Strange things happen around you when you get angry or sad. Any time you have a strong enough emotion to really move you, you feel something deep inside you shift. You feel like you’re on the verge of something both exciting and terrifying at the same time.”

  I listened without taking a breath. I was afraid that if I breathed or moved or reacted in any way, I might break into pieces. He was talking about my darkest secrets, rattling them off as if they were common.

  “It manifests in different ways for different people,” he said. “For some, it’s objects that fly across the room. For others, it’s a thunder storm that can’t be explained. Or maybe it’s an extreme heat that gathers at your fingertips.”

  He paused and even though I tried to hold it back, a memory flashed through my mind.

  “Tell me,” he said, his voice low and oddly comforting.

  I gripped the chair harder, resisting.

  I had never told anyone these things. Not even my closest, most trusted friends.

  “Franki?” he said after a moment had passed in silence.

  I shook my head and looked away, feeling those damned tears welling up in my eyes again. I hated that he could bring this out in me. I had worked so hard for so long to control every emotion, and here he was, breaking me down as if I were made of paper.

  He stood and moved around the desk. Panic tightened my chest, and I wished I could just disappear into nothingness.

  Rend knelt down on the floor beside my chair and placed his hand on top of mine. My entire body tensed, and with that one touch, a raging river coursed through me, threatening to crash over every single wall I’d built up to keep others out.

  I yanked my hand away and stood, walking over toward the painting of the dark cliffs and the violent sea.

  “I know it isn’t an easy thing to talk about,” he said. “Not when you’ve spent a lifetime with no one to confide in about it. But, you have to believe me when I say that it gets easier once you realize you’re not alone.”

  I refused to look at him even though I could feel that he was moving closer.

  “There are so many others who are like you,” he said. “Thousands of women and girls who have abilities that can’t be explained without opening your mind to the possibility of magic.”

  I flinched at the word. Magic was a kid’s game. Cheap tricks and illusions meant to awe and entertain crowds. It wasn’t real.

  He was standing behind me now, so close I could feel his warmth radiating against my back. I didn’t know if I wanted to lean into him or move away. All I could do was stand there, staring at that painting.

  “A good friend of mine painted that,” he said. “Years ago. More than a century ago by now.”

  I glanced over my shoulder so I could see his face. “How is that possible? How could you have a friend that old?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Franki. Not everything in this world is what you thought it was,” he said. He lifted his hand to my arm, running his fingertips across the dark bruise. “People like those men in the alleyway last night? I know it sounds impossible to you now, but some people can live for a lot longer than a normal human lifespan. Some people—some beings—are immortal, while others are human but capable of great power. Once you open your mind to that truth, a whole new world will open up right before your eyes.”

  My body trembled at his touch. At his words. I wanted to dismiss them and tell him he was crazy. But I couldn’t. I knew he was telling me the truth. I had denied it for so long, but there was a reason I had worked so hard to control my emotions.

  I’d pushed the truth of it so far back into my mind that I refused to discuss it or even allow the thought to enter my consciousness most of the time. But I couldn’t ignore it any longer.

  “That’s why Katy got sick when she drank that Dragon stuff last night, right? Why she threw up and I felt so alive?” I asked, turning slowly toward him, my heart beating so fast I thought it might escape from my chest and fly away with little hummingbird wings. “She’s not like me.”

  He shook his head. “No, she’s not.”

  I brought my eyes to his, afraid of the way it would make me feel, but needing to be able to look at him when he said it.

  “What am I?” I asked in a whisper, my voice quivering.

  He met my stare and brought his hand to my cheek.

  “You’re a witch.”

  The Magic Within

  For a moment, I thought he might kiss me.

  His face was so close to mine, and oh god, I wanted him to. My mind and body were on the edge, emotion flowing so strongly inside of me that I needed some kind of outlet. I needed something to balance me out before I lost control.

  He must have felt my need, because he pulled his hand away as if I’d burned him. He stepped back, every muscle tense.

  “I know it’s a lot to take in,” he said, his tone matching my desire. He was just as on edge as I was. “You need to know the truth, though. Understanding the threat is the only way I can protect you.”

  “From people like those three guys last night?”

  “Them,” he said pacing the floor in front of the couch, “and much worse.”

  I took deep breaths, trying to still the wave of emotions crashing over me.

  “Worse?”

  “There is evil all around us,” he said. “Back home, living your normal life, you probably weren’t using your powers at all, I’m guessing?”

  I shook my head, rattled by the use of the word powers.

  “If someone extremely sensitive to our kind got close to you, they would recognize you for what you are, but most people would never know,” he said. “The second you walked through the door to this club, though, you introduced yourself to a whole world of those who would kill to take you for their own.”

  “Why?” I asked, my hands curled into tight fists at my side. “If there are thousands out there like me, then why would anyone care about one more?”

  He let his head fall back slightly, as if I’d asked him an impossible question.

  “On this side of the curtain, there is a constant war for each and every witch or demon that walks this earth,” he said. “Lesser witches than you have started battles that saw a hundred dead in a single afternoon.”

  He came close to me again and my need to touch him flared like hot coals pressed against my skin.

  “And Franki, whether you realize it or not, you are…” His words broke off and he stared deep into my eyes, as if searching there for the right words. “I can’t explain it. I’ve never felt energy quite like yours before. Powerful, but something beyond that. It’s as if darkness and light have always been fighting over your soul.”

  His words cut me to my core. I knew their truth in the deepest, most secret part of myself.

  Fear and anger and years of holding back the truth from anyone who tried to get too close all came to a head in that moment. I fought it as hard as I could, but I felt it slipping through the cracks like sand through an hourglass. I pressed my hands tightly against my chest and squeezed my eyes shut as if maybe I could keep it inside, but it was no use.

  Control slipped just out of reach and I felt the magic within me ooze through the cracks in my resolve.

  I cried out as a gust of wind blew my hair across my face. My arms thrust out, palms open as the air moved faster around us, circling the room like a tornado. It roared in my ears, drowning out the sounds of my despair.

  Glass flew up and shattered into tiny pieces that whipped around, cutting the skin on my face and arms. Furniture shifted and toppled over.