Night World - The Chosen Part 9

CHAPTER 10.

Or not to meet them so much as graze past them, before concentrating on his c hin. She didn't dare stare directly into them for long.

"Maybe she is from another planet," Quinn was saying to the girl. "Maybe s he's not human. Maybe I'm not, either."

That's right, Rashel thought. Make fun of them by telling them a truth they w on't believe.

But, she noticed, Quinn looked more as if he didn't care what they found o ut than as if he were mocking them. "Maybe she's from another world. Did y ou ever think of that?"

Rashel was confused again. Quinn seemed to be trying to get himself killed.

He appeared to be verging on telling these girls about the Night World, an d under the laws of the Night World, that was punishable by death.

You're really slipping, Rashel thought. First the slave trade, now this. I tho ught you were supposed to be such a stickler for the law.

"There are darker dimensions," Quinn was confiding to the group, "than you hav e ever imagined. But, you see, it's all part of life's grand design, so it's a ll right. Did you know"-he put his arm around a girl's shoulders, gesturing ou tward as if inviting her to look at some horizon-"that there's a certain kind of wasp that lays its eggs in the body of a caterpillar? A live caterpillar. A nd it stays alive, you see, while the eggs hatch and the little waspettes eat it from the inside out. Now, who do you think invented that?"

Rashel wondered if vampires could get drunk.

"That would probably be the most horrible way to die," Daphne chimed in, her musical voice ghoulish. "Being eaten by insects. Or maybe being burned."

"It would probably depend on how fast you burned," Quinn said meditatively . "A flash of fire-high enough temperature-you b.u.m the nerves out in the f irst few seconds. Slow baking would be different."

"I'm writing a poem about fire," Rashel said. She was surprised to find th at she was annoyed because Quinn didn't really seem to have noticed her. O n second thought, she should be annoyed; her plan depended on him not only noticing but choosing her.

She was going to have to capture his attention.

"Do you have it with you?" Daphne was asking helpfully.

"No, but I can tell you the beginning," Rashel said. She braced herself to lo ok at Quinn as she recited: "There's warmth in ice; there's cooling peace in fire, And midnight light to show us all the way. The dancing flame becomes a fu neral pyre; The Dark was more enticing than the Day."

Quinn blinked. Then he smiled, and he looked Rashel over, dearly taking not ice of the velvet jumpsuit and ending with her face. He looked everywhere .

. . except into her eyes.

"That's right; you've got it," he said with that same brittle exhilaration. "An d there's plenty of dark out there for everyone."

Rashel's worry that he might look too deep if he met her gaze was groundles s. Quinn didn't seem to be really seeing anybody here.

"There is plenty of darkness," Rashel said. She moved toward him, feeling st rangely brave. Her instincts sensed a weakness in him, a flaw. "It's everywh ere. It's inescapable. So the only thing we can do is embrace it." She was s tanding right in front of him now, looking at his mouth. "If we hold it dose , it won't hurt so much."

"Well. Exactly." Quinn showed his teeth, but it wasn't the manic smile. It was a grimace. He didn't look happy anymore; suddenly, for just an instant, he looked tired and sick. He was almost leaning away from Rashel.

"I came here so I could do that," Rashel said in a sultry voice. She was scar ing herself a little. In the name of the charade, she was doing everything sh e could to seduce him-but it was surprisingly easy and surprisingly enjoyable . There was a sort of tingling all over her body, as if the jumpsuit had pick ed up a charge.

"I came to look for the darkness," she said. Softly.

Quinn laughed abruptly. The feverish good humor came flooding back. "And you found it," he said. He went on laughing and laughing, and he reached out to touch Rashel's cheek.

Don't let him touch you!

The thought flashed through Rashel's mind and communicated to her muscles in an instant. Without knowing how she knew, she was certain that if he touc hed her, it would all be over. It was skin-to-skin contact that had nearly fried every circuit in her brain before.

She danced back from his fingertips and smiled teasingly, while her heart tri ed to pound its way out of her chest.

"This place is so crowded," she said throatily.

"Huh? Oh. Then why don't we schedule something more private? I could pick you up tomorrow night. Say seven o'clock in the parking lot."

Bingo.

"But Quinn." It was Daphne, looking aggrieved.

"You told me to meet you tomorrow." She trembled her chin.

Quinn stared at her, and for once, Rashel could read his face easily. He was thinking that anybody that stupid deserved it.

"Well, you can both come," he said expansively. "Why not? The more the me rrier."

He walked away laughing and laughing.

Rashel watched him go, resisting an impulse to shake her head. She'd done it ; she'd pa.s.sed the last test and been chosen. So why was her heart still pou nding?

She glanced out of the side of her eye at Daphne. "Well, I don't know about a nybody else, but I've had enough excitement for tonight." She went to get her coat, with the rest of Quinn's coterie glaring jealously after her.

She had one enjoyable experience on the way out. Ivan, still slouching, tried to stop her at the door.

"Sh.e.l.ly, hey. I thought we were going to get to know each other better."

Rashel didn't need him anymore; she had her invitation. "I'd rather get to kn ow a head louse," she said in her sweet chatty voice, and she stepped on his foot hard with her high heel.

In the car, she waited a full twenty minutes, watching the front of the club, before Daphne joined her.

"Sorry, but I didn't want anybody to think we were leaving together."

"You did a great job," Rashel said, driving away. "You even managed to get b oth of us invited to meet Quinn together-that was dangerous, but it worked.

The only thing that surprised me is that he invited us in front of everybody . Is that how he did it before?"

"No. Not at all. Last time, he sort of whispered it to me when n.o.body was ar ound. But, you know, nothing was normal tonight. I mean, he usually asks new girls questions-I guess to figure out if they have families who'll miss the m. And he isn't usually that-that . . ."

"Manic?"

"Yeah. I wonder what's going on with him?"

Rashel pressed her lips together and stared straight ahead through the winds.h.i.+eld.

"You sure you want to go through with this?"

It was Sunday night and they were nearing the parking lot of the Crypt.

"I've told you and told you," Daphne said. "I'm ready. I can do it."

"Okay. But, listen, if there's any trouble, I want you to run. Run away from the club and don't look back for me. All right?"

Daphne nodded. At Rashel's suggestion, she was wearing something more sen sible tonight: black pants heavy enough to provide some warmth, a dark sw eater, and shoes she could run in. Rashel was dressed the same way, excep t that she was wearing high boots. The knife was in one.

"You go first," Rashel said, parking a street away from the club. "I'll come i n a minute."

She watched Daphne walk away, hoping she wasn't going to get this little bl ond bunny killed.

She herself was the danger. Quinn was going to use mind control on them t o get them to go to the warehouse quietly. And Rashel wasn't sure what wo uld happen when he did it.

Just don't let him touch you, she told herself. You can carry it off as long as he doesn't touch you.

Five minutes later, she started toward the Crypt.

Quinn was in the dark parking lot, standing by a silvery-gray Lexus. As Ras hel reached the car, she saw the pale blob of Daphne's face through the win dow.

"I almost thought you weren't coming." There was now a sort of savagery mi xed in with Quinn's lunatic good humor. As if he was angry she wasn't smar t enough to save herself.

"Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the world." Rashel kept her eyes on the car.

She wanted to get this over with. "Are we going somewhere?"

There was that tiny hesitation that seemed to come every time she spoke to h im, as if it were taking him a minute to focus. Or as if he were trying to f igure something out, she thought nervously.

Then he answered smoothly, "Oh, right, get in."

Rashel got in. She glanced once at Daphne in the back seat. Daphne said, "W hat's up?" in a chirpy voice laced with feminine rivalry.

Good girl.

Quinn was getting in the driver's side. Once the door was shut, he turned t he engine on to run the heater. The windows immediately began to fog.

Rashel sat in a state of continuing mind, ready for the unexpected at any mo ment.

Only the unexpected didn't come. Nothing came. Quinn was just sitting there in the driver's seat.

Watching her.With a sudden void in her stomach that threatened her zans.h.i.+n, Rashel realize d that it was too dark. Too familiar. They were sitting here together in sile nce, so close, visible to each other only in silhouette, just as they had in the cellar. She could almost feel Quinn's confusion as he tried to figure out what was bothering him.

And Rashel was afraid to say anything, afraid that her chirpiest voice wou ldn't be a good-enough disguise. The horrible feeling of connection was mo unting, like some giant green wave looming over them both. In a moment it would break, and Quinn would say, "I know you," and switch on the light to see the face without the veil.

Rashel's fingers edged toward her knife.

Then, through the electric buzzing in her ears, she heard Daphne say, "You know , I just love this car. I bet it goes really fast, too. This is all so exciting -I'm just so glad I got here this time. Not like last week."

She went on, blathering easily, while Rashel sank back lightheaded with re lief. The connection was broken; Quinn was now looking at his instrument panel as if trying to escape the chatter. And now Daphne was talking about h ow exciting it was to ride in the dark.

Smart, smart girl.

Quinn had to interrupt her to say, "So, you two girls want to surrender to th e darkness?" He said it as if he were asking if they wanted to order pizza.

"Yes," Rashel said.

"Oh, yes," Daphne said. "It's just like we always say. I think that would be j ust the most seriously cool-"

Quinn made a gesture at her as if to say, "For G.o.d's sake, shut up." Not a r ough gesture. It was more like an exasperated choir director trying to get t hrough to some soprano who wouldn't stop at the end of the measure. Stop her e.

And Daphne shut up.'

Like that.

As if he'd turned off a switch in her. Rashel twisted slightly to look at th e backseat and saw that Daphne had slumped to one side, body limp, her breat hing peaceful.

Oh, G.o.d, Rashel thought. She was used to the kind of mind control other vam pires had tried on her. The persuasive, whispery-voice-in-the-head type. An d when Quinn hadn't tried to use that, or to call for help in the cellar, s he'd a.s.sumed he was low on telepathy.

Now she knew the truth. He packed a telepathic punch like a pile driver. No, like a karate blow: swift, precise, and deadly.

He turned to look at her, a dark shape against a lighter darkness. Rashel tried to brace herself.

"And the rest is silence," Quinn said, and gestured at her.Rashel fell into a void.

She woke up as she was being carried into the warehouse. She had enough pr esence of mind not to open her eyes or make any other sign that she was co nscious. It was Quinn carrying her; she could tell even with her eyes shut.

When he dumped her on a mattress, she deliberately fell so that her head w as turned away from him and her hair was over her face.

She had a moment's fear that he was going to discover the knife in her boot when he shackled her ankles. But he didn't even roll up her pant leg. He see med to be doing everything as quickly as possible, without really paying att ention.

Rashel heard the shackle snap shut. She kept perfectly still.

She lay and listened as he brought Daphne in and chained her. Then she hear d voices close by and the sound of other footsteps.

"Put that one down here-what happened to her purse?" That was Lily.

"It's still in the car." Ivan.

"Okay, bring it in with the other one. I'll do her feet."

Thump of a body hitting a mattress. Footsteps going away. The metallic clin k of chains. Then a sigh from Lily. Rashel could imagine her straightening up and looking around in satisfaction.

"Well, that's it. Ivan's got number twenty-four in the car. I guess we're goin g to have one very happy client."

"Joy," Quinn said flatly.

Twenty-four? One client?