Free Now Comes the Night by P.G. Forte Page A

trying to sneak up on me.”
    “Yeah, well…that’s still damn creepy, if you ask me. Even for us.”
    Marc turned to gaze curiously at the taller man. “You really don’t know what I’m talking about do you?”
    Nighthawk shook his head. “Not a clue. Sound, I get. Smell, I get. Sight—even if you had eyes in the back of your head like it sometimes seems you do—that I’d get too. But this sensing thing you keep talkin’ about, all that stuff about the air moving around us in some kinda crazy pattern only you can detect? That’s where you lose me, every time. Sorry, boss, it’s all just weird and creepy.”
    Weird and creepy? That was just great. Now it was Marc’s turn to sigh. He thought he’d left that kind of thing behind him when he gave up trying to be human and accepted being a vampire. Apparently not. Apparently, he was both weirder and creepier than even the other monsters were used to. Fan-fucking-tastic. “Any news?” he asked again, desperate for a change of subject.
    Nighthawk shook his head. “Nah, there’s still no sign of either of your ladies. All’s I know is neither of them have been back to their nest—what’s left of it, that is—and they haven’t been seen in any of their usual haunts either. They’ve both gone to ground in a major way. I haven’t even been able to discover if they’re together, although word on the street says that’s not too likely. Apparently there’s no love lost between ‘em anymore, even though, back in the day, they were supposedly thick as thieves. Closer than sisters. Hell, they may actually have been sisters, for all I know. Or lovers. Or who knows what else.”
    Marc frowned. His mood had gone sour with the very first sentence—everything else was just noise. “Don’t call them my ladies.” Audrey was a psycho bitch who’d put out his eye and tried to kill him. She was no one’s idea of a lady, least of all his. Elise, on the other hand…what he wouldn’t give to learn what was up with her, where she was, why she’d run. Maybe he’d balk at parting with his one remaining eye, but pretty much anything else was up for discussion.
    Was she running with Audrey, or from her? Or was it Marc she was running from? And did he even care?
    There was no mystery as to why he wanted Audrey found. She was dangerous, a loose cannon. She needed to be stopped and nobody seemed to be doing anything about that but him. Plus, she owed him for his eye and for the injuries she’d inflicted on those he cared about. The thought of dealing out a little revenge was not without appeal.
    His motivations with regard to Elise were nothing but murky—even to himself. There was nothing clear or remotely civilized about the emotions she inspired in him. His feelings were savage and raw. Three months ago, it would have terrified him to feel this way. Three weeks ago, it might have given him serious pause. Nowadays he was completely beyond caring.
    There was an icy-hot rage burning continuously in the center of his soul, or at least that’s how it felt. There was a sense of some tremendous pressure building within him, but whether he’d expand to encompass it, or simply explode—that was anyone’s guess.
    He didn’t know for certain that Elise was the key to his continued survival, the only thing that might possibly help calm him down, but it sure as hell felt that way. That’s why he needed to know she was okay. He needed to find her, go to her, wrap his arms around her… Then he’d sink his teeth into her throat, mark her as his own, and show her who was boss. He needed the truth and, damn it. He’d have it too—right from those pretty red lips. Someday, and soon if he had anything at all to say about it, he’d learn for certain whether or not it was she who’d betrayed him. He’d hear her beg forgiveness if it was. Then—regardless of what she’d done—he’d take her to bed and love her until the moon set and the sun came up and they were both too