Taking The Night (Nightshade series Book 1) Read online

  Normally, Selia enjoyed the unique sensation of the elevator, but not tonight. Not after being chased by a pair of thugs and the surprising rescue by the city’s most notorious vigilante. A smile played on her lips as she thought back to the strange meeting, but the doors opened before she could think too much about him.

  The second floor was Soren’s domain. Only the small night lights meant as a security precaution offered lighting to the otherwise darkened area. There was a long hallway, to each side ending at corners with windows that had a moderately good view of the area around the building. Selia looked out the window to the right as she stepped out of the elevator where a small garden, complete with a gazebo resided. The left offered a view of the street below. There were restrooms to the left and a single door with a black pad to the right. Ahead was the door to Soren’s office.

  Her nerves, however, didn’t calm as they usually did if Soren was around. The door was open, and her heart quickened. She should have called, but it was too late for that now. Selia opened the door and found her fears were true: Soren, her supervisor for the last eight years and father for the past ten, was not in the room.

  Instead, two burly thugs who could have made football players look like pansies stood on each side of the Soren’s innermost office door, their mashed-in and scarred faces fixed in what she expected was a perpetual scowl. She saw Alfi Barboni through the open doorway as he leaned against the front of Soren’s desk, flipping through a magazine, a bored expression on his otherwise handsome face.

  Five foot nine inches tall, Alfi had been a thorn in Selia’s side since she arrived in New Campania at the age of sixteen. She had experienced a huge culture shock going from a warring, magical island paradise where strength was tested and knowledge praised, to a place where she had to keep a low profile. Unlike her homeland, women on this continent were typically thought of as the weaker sex and she had to force herself to keep her unusual strength and knowledge secret. Magic wasn’t believed to be real, let alone exist, in New Campania. Selia had been forced to keep it secret, for fear of standing out and becoming a target. Or, worse yet, be forced into becoming another weapon in Al’s considerable arsenal.

  Selia’s docile act had fooled everyone, especially Alfi. He had immediately thought she would be an easy conquest, and that she would fall over herself to be another notch on his bedpost. Yeah, that hadn’t happened, and ever since she had made her point, Alfi had hated her. He hated Soren, too, for taking her side and not punishing the girl who had dared insult a male member of the syndicate.

  Selia wanted to stop just inside the outer room, out of the thugs’ reach, but knew that wouldn’t work. Alfi would take it as an invitation to open fire and she was a proverbial sitting duck, yet again. There was a slim chance that Soren would be coming later and Alfi wasn’t here about the drive. So, she lifted her chin and strode briskly between the two thugs, just out of Alfi’s reach.

  “They aren’t Soren’s men,” she said, instead of greeting him.

  Alfi smiled, revealing a perfect set of pearly white teeth that would have made any dentist proud. The smile didn’t reach his dark hazel eyes, but she had to admit, the smile made him look like a model. Dark black hair lay perfectly without a trace of gel, not a strand out of place. She smelled the faint whiff of hairspray, though. His charcoal gray suit was tailored to show off his perfect physique and she knew for a fact he went to the Family’s gym daily. When it came to knowing the enemy, Selia didn’t let any detail slip past her if it kept her from accidently crossing paths with said model-perfect, murdering bastard.

  “You’re absolutely correct, Selia.” Her name slid off his lips, reminding her of a snake hissing. “They’re my men. Now, give me the drive.”

  Oh, that wasn’t what I wanted to hear, she thought. He, the dirty rat, had sent her after the drive. Not that the knowledge would do her much good right now.

  “Where’s Soren?” she asked, wanting to be certain.

  “He’s indisposed,” Alfi replied, not moving from his casual perch on Soren’s desk.

  Crap. That could mean any number of things. Selia forced her lips to form a polite smile. “I’ll wait until he’s available.”

  Alfi’s eyes narrowed and his dulcet, pleasing tone dropped a degree in temperature. “You may not have enough time.”

  Selia shrugged as she considered her options. There really weren’t many. Maybe bluffing would work until another option arose. “The deal was I get the drive to Soren, nobody else.”

  “I’m Nobody Else,” Alfi replied, his lips twisting into a malevolent smirk.

  “Well, you’re certainly nobody as far as I’m concerned,” she conceded in a mocking tone. “That doesn’t mean I’m giving you the drive, though.”

  “Oh, a wise ass,” he returned, straightening and pushing away from the desk an inch.

  Selia shrugged, refusing to give her ground. “I adapt to my environment.”

  “Better if you give me the drive, now.”

  Well, she always had been able to annoy him in two minutes or less. Though, usually, she had some sort of reinforcement to keep him from harming her. Pulling out the empty drive from her left pocket, she held it in the palm of her hand, just to the side of her body. It was time to get creative, even if it meant revealing she was more than just a pretty, shy, brown-eyed, brunette secretary with a demure smile and soft voice.

  “I was instructed to give it to Soren. How do you know I won’t destroy it instead of giving it to you?”

  “You think you can do that with the three of us here?” he asked, nodding to the two thugs who hadn’t moved from their sentry position.

  Alfi had them well-trained. She wondered if he’d used puppy treats as reinforcement for good behavior.

  “How do you know I can’t?” she countered, keeping her voice even, despite her rising pulse and racing heart.

  “Maybe I’d like to see that.”

  It was obvious to her that Alfi didn’t believe her, but whatever. If he thought she was going to give in, he was crazy. Well, crazier than she had originally thought.

  She replied, “Maybe you wouldn’t.”

  Alfi gave a put-upon sigh and held out his hand. “Enough games. Give it to me.”

  Selia tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips as though considering his demand and shrugged.

  With a shrug, she exclaimed, “Okay!”

  Alfi smiled, but it turned to a look of horror as fire flared to life in Selia’s hand, flash-frying the drive. She threw the flaming, melted drive into Alfi’s face and ducked into a crouch as he screamed, throwing his hands to his face. Turning, she watched in detached fascination as the two thugs turned and fired towards where she had been standing. They were fast, but rather dumb because they didn’t identify their target before squeezing their triggers.

  Another scream erupted from Alfi as she scurried in a crouch past the two thugs who rushed to help their overlord. She glanced over one shoulder and smirked. One of the thugs had, apparently, managed to aim correctly. However, instead of hitting her, he had shot Alfi in the chest. Blood blossomed across Alfi’s gray suit as the other thug punched in numbers on his cell phone even as she turned and ran like hell.

  Pushing her thumb against the black pad, a green light flashed, and the door unlocked. Selia opened it far enough for her to slip through, pulled it shut, and raced down the private staircase. Sure, there was a safety feature to unlock the stairs if the fire alarm sounded, but there was no fire tonight and the elevator would take too long. Fortunately for her, Soren restricted who could use the staircase anytime without the need of a keycard.

  There was a side door, hidden in the far corner with another keypad lock, along with a door to the right and left. The door to the right led into the main waiting area and the left opened into a side street. Fearing there would be more thugs waiting for her in the lobby or just outside the main entrance, Selia opted for the exit to the side-street.

  The moment she exited the building,
she ran. She didn’t stop until her lungs threatened to burst from her chest, a good eight blocks from Soren’s office. Even then, she continued walking at a quick pace, glancing around in the hopes of finding a store still open. Spotting a Starbucks, she ducked inside and chose a booth as far from anyone else as possible.

  Pulling out her cell phone, she dialed Soren’s number. The moment she heard his voice, she hunched over the table, hoping to hide from Alfi and his goons. “Where are you? You didn’t send me an email asking me to pick up an envelope and then meet you at your office, did you?”

  “No,” Soren said. He sounded rather concerned and angry. “What happened?”

  “I showed up at your office to give you the drive that was inside the envelope and Alfi was there. He tried to take it from me with extreme prejudice.” Selia tried to keep calm, but it wasn’t easy when someone had just tried to kill her. Twice.

  “That figures about Alfi, but start at the beginning,” Soren said, his voice calm and the sound of reason. He still sounded like he wanted to kill someone, though.

  Selia drew comfort from his calm, steady voice and forced herself to keep quiet as she answered Soren’s request.

  “I got an email to go to Cerestes to pick up an envelope from the mailroom there. Since you were off, I figured it was legit. I know, I know; you’ve never asked me to do anything like that before so I should have double-checked, but the email looked legit. I had just finished when two goons showed up to ‘escort’ me. I escaped out a fire escape.”

  Selia dropped her voice and felt a blush creeping up her cheeks as she added, “I ran into the Sandman, who took out the pair, and went on to your office. I’ve already told you what happened there.”

  “You aren’t telling me something,” Soren said. He continued before she could reply. “You used your magic, but that doesn’t matter now.”

  He muttered something in Italian about Alfi’s mother. Typically, Soren kept his anger carefully hidden and tucked away. He had to be thoroughly pissed.

  “You need to get off the phone. I’ll contact you. Get somewhere safe. Nowhere you usually go.”

  That wasn’t helping her fear. “What do you mean?”

  “Do you honestly think the government is the only group that can track people by cell phone? Hell, I could Google where you are right now!” He took a deep breath and calmed himself once more. “Hang up, turn off your phone’s GPS and get five miles away from where you are now. Fast!”

  The call ended and Selia swallowed hard, doing as he told her. She emptied her pockets onto the table and sighed. She didn’t have much. Her car keys, the flash drive, her phone’s wall charger and cable she had stuffed into her jacket pocket for some dumb reason that didn’t seem so dumb now, and her wallet. She flipped open her wallet and went through its compartments. Flipping through the contents, she found her bank card.

  She looked around the Starbucks and her eyes landed on an ATM. If Soren knew where she was, then that meant everyone else could find her, too. If they already knew her location, using the ATM could do no harm. Stuffing her pockets once more, she got up and headed over to the machine. If she was going to run, she would need to max out her withdrawal limit, since she only had about a hundred bucks on hand. Cash couldn’t be traced; everything else could and would be.

  So much for shoe shopping, she thought as she punched the buttons on the ATM and collected her five hundred bucks.

  Chapter Three

  S elia didn’t use the subway very often, which was an understatement. She had no need for the subway when she had her own car and rarely went outside Soren’s area of influence. That meant she didn’t typically go into Tony Carenzo’s territory on the North side of the city or the Southwestern area of the city that Lucien Vaschetti claimed. Nor did she visit the small area between the dons that the Sandman called home.

  Keeping up with the crowds, Selia kept her head low and her shoulders hunched. She paid for a ticket to the edge of the city on the Northern Line. Boarding the subway car, she found a seat near the back and slouched, keeping her head low.

  She watched as the train went above ground on the outside of Al’s domain and into Tony’s territory. Skyscrapers changed into townhouses and apartment buildings that ranged from modern and new to those that were boarded up or falling apart. As grocery chains and department stores passed by, Selia wondered if Alfi’s actions had been sanctioned.

  Though Selia wasn’t knowledgeable of how the syndicate worked, she couldn’t help but question why Al would have allowed Alfi to try to kill her. Maybe that was why Soren had told her to get out? To find out if Alfi’s actions had been approved by Al? She sincerely hoped that Al hadn’t approved it, since that would mean he had done a complete one-eighty towards her.

  Watching the signs, Selia realized she was nearing the end of the line. When the subway car stopped, she disembarked, discovering she was in a business district. She wandered down the sidewalk until she found a little discount shop still open. Ducking inside, she happily discovered a selection of tourist-type clothing. Grabbing a jacket a size too big, a baseball cap, boring sunglasses, and several candy bars, she paid for all of it in cash.

  Stuffing her hair beneath the cap, she pulled the jacket around her, zipping it shut. The candy bars she shoved into her pockets. Returning to the subway, she purchased another ticket, this one to a part of town she’d visited only once before, and that had been when she was seventeen.

  Despite the fact Soren had told her to get further away, she couldn’t bring herself to leave the city. It would put too much distance between her, Soren, and the only place she considered home. Instead, she was going to stay in an area where none of the Families had any influence: the self-declared “neutral territory” by all the dons, courtesy of the Sandman.

  Not that this area had always been the Sandman’s territory. It had, in fact, once been an area the Vaschettis and Carenzos had fought viciously to own. Then, the Sandman had stepped in and turned the tables. While the Carenzo Family had been bent on taking out Lucien Vaschetti’s people and the Vaschettis were intent on vengeance, the Sandman had taken out both. He busted drug deals and pimps breaking up their gambling, loan sharking, and protection rackets.

  What better place to hide than in neutral territory that didn’t belong to any Family? An area she wasn’t known to venture.

  Taking a cab was out of the question. Cabbies remembered their passengers and kept track of where people were picked up and dropped off. Instead, Selia hopped on a bus and when a low-budget hotel came into view, she memorized the route the bus took, hopped off three blocks past it, and took another bus until she came to a ritzy hotel. From there, she backtracked on foot to the cheap dive of a hotel.

  Taking alleys and side-streets, Selia kept to the shadows, ignoring the clusters of people standing at the steps of townhouses and apartment buildings. She didn’t keep her head low or hunched over. Instead, she walked with the swagger of an armed kid who knew her town and had business to take care of. Grabbing a couple sodas from a convenience store, she headed to the hotel’s front desk where she paid in cash under a false name. With a keycard in hand, Selia took the stairs up to her room and settled in.

  The room wasn’t too small. There were two double beds, a couple of chairs, a large entertainment system and a fairly decent sized bathroom. Setting the small bag of drinks on a table, she pulled the heavy, boring pastel curtains away from the windows to find a small balcony overlooking the city street. Letting the curtains swing back into place, she grabbed one of the sodas from the bag and twisted the top off.

  She took a long pull before recapping it and putting it on a small table. Standing in the shadows beside the window, she sank into the darkness and stared through the narrow opening, watching the people milling about on the sidewalk below. It brought back a memory of her childhood, when she had stood in the shadows of tall palms and lush jungle growth waiting for a deer to pass. She had been the hunter then, but now was the prey. It wasn’t a pleas
ant thought.

  A rueful smile tugged at her lips despite the unpleasant situation, and she sighed inwardly. That time was long gone. She’d never be allowed back to her island homeland. Her home now was this strange city of concrete buildings, automobiles, and technology. But was she going to keep running? As a child, she’d feared nothing and had stood up for herself. It was the only way to survive on Temeria. A person didn’t have a protector or savior to step in when things got rough in her homeland. There. it was a matter of defend yourself, or be beaten senseless, or killed.

  But her fearlessness had been driven from her when she ran away to Soren’s ship in order to prevent herself from being killed. Soren had saved her then, and had continued protecting her, either by his hand or through his orders. She hadn’t needed to stand up and protect herself, not when she had Soren. In fact, she’d been taught quickly to run from trouble so her secrets would remain hidden.

  For once, she wasn’t certain she wanted to run anymore. She wasn’t certain if she wanted to turn to someone else to protect her when she could easily stand up and protect herself.

  Her phone rang, pulling her from her troublesome thoughts.

  “Text me the number where you’re staying.” Soren’s voice was a welcome bedrock of security and safety. It was odd, she thought, how much Soren’s confidence and stolid demeanor meant to her.

  “Why didn’t you just text me?” she asked.

  “Are you really that naïve, girl? After all these years?” His tone was gruff and was followed by a click.

  Blushing, she glanced at the phone and sent the number to him and waited with the patience of a hunter trained to wait for her prey. On the second ring, she picked up the receiver.

  “I have your car, your gym bag, an extra set of clothes, and your laptop. What else do you need?” Soren asked, not bothering with a preamble.