Page 1 of The Devil After Dark
one
LIANA
Flashingemergency lights and blood stained hands were not on my to do list for the day. Why had I runtowardsthe chaos? Why had I not waitedinthe restaurant for my ride? To freeze or to run away would have been a normal response, but no, I ran towards the men who had been shot. I guess it was the right thing to do—to help them, but I had done it without a second thought for my own safety. The night was supposed to be a simple work dinner, followed by me snuggling into my reading chair with the filthy book my best friend, Thea, had lent me. Instead, I was sitting on the back of an ambulance, trying to wash blood from my hands.
TWO HOURS EARLIER.
This restaurant was one of my favorites in the city. We were tucked tightly in the back of the place, where a few steps down allowed forthe ceiling height to be taller. The walls and arched ceilings were all made out of a cream colored stone and were hundreds of years old. The sconces that hung around the room, and along the sides of the long and narrow restaurant, bathed all the patrons in a warm glow.
My boss, Roger, was sitting next to me and my colleagues Ivan, Thea, and Stephan were also huddled at the small table. I had been warned to never get involved with magic wielders. It was the one lesson that was preached and reiterated ad nauseam growing up. My parents would freak out if they knew what my life really consisted of now. I had escaped the small town I grew up in and found myself in a big city—face to face with magic wielders every single day. In my defense, I wasn’tinvolvedwith them per say. I worked for one—Roger—and many of our clients were magic wielders as well. My three co-workers were as lesser human as they come—just like me.
Wine was flowing tonight and Roger was in an exceptionally good mood after the client we signed today. Our little business consulting firm does everything from marketing to business acquisition analysis and although our wide repertoire of services is great for startups, it kills us when it comes to signing clients who actually have money. Roger continues to tell me he is going to rein us in and focus us on a specialty, but then another potential client shows up with a laundry list of things they need help with and Roger just says yes.
As long as the paychecks kept coming, I would smile and pretend to be okay with it. At least I got to work on a variety of things and my days are anything but boring. Over half of our clients are magic wielders and I made my career by ensuring they were well taken care of—and that meant everything from ensuring their swanky city condos were refreshed and stocked with their favorite items when they came to town to providing market analysis reports for new business ventures. Not a single magic wielder has shown me their magic. Not a single one had made me feel less safe than any strange male might have. I treated them with the respect I would treat any clientand quickly learned that my refusal to cower in front of them made me an asset—and earned me enough money to finally feel like the independent, secure, and successful woman I had always wanted to become.
I checked the time on my phone. If I was going to get home taking the train and bus, then I needed to leave … like five minutes ago. “Roger, thank you. I need to run if I am going to make the last bus.” I patted him on the shoulder as I stood up. Roger was not only my boss, but he had become a mentor. Maybe even somewhat of a father figure even though he was only about ten years older than me. Roger is a classic magic wielder—meaning he is ridiculously handsome. He is tall and has a thick head of dark hair with a hint of silver that is usually styled to perfection. He keeps his beard immaculately trimmed and although the grey hair has increased since I first met him, he still looks great.
I showed up in this city five years ago with a single bag of clothing and Roger took a chance on me. He offered me a job and found me an apartment to live in until I could get my feet under me. I had been hesitant to trust Roger for a variety of reasons, but he brought his wife, Isabella, to meet me and she had fussed over me like I was an abandoned puppy. After that it was weekly family dinners at Roger’s house until I moved out of the city. Although less frequent, Roger still insists I join them at least once a quarter. It makes me feel like I have a family here.
“See you all tomorrow!” I said cheerfully to my colleagues and was met with drunken groans and half hearted pleas for me to stay out and join them at the club after dinner. They all know I have never been one to go to the clubs, but they were going to try to convince me anyway.
At thirty-two, I’ve never married, haven’t had a long term relationship in years, and I am so buried in my career that I’m not even sure I’m upset about the whole situation. This really is my dream joband I live just outside of one of the dreamiest cities, in my dream condo. I happily take public transportation to the office or into the city, and I love the quiet of the little town I live in. When I’m not working I’m burying my head in books and cooking and just relaxing. Plus, with the vibrators they make these days, why risk bringing a psycho home? No thanks.
I slipped through the crowded restaurant and out into the cool night air. Quickly scanning the street, I headed towards the nearest underground train station. We ate at this restaurant often for business, so I was very familiar with how to get home. I just never felt very comfortable walking the city streets alone at night. Checking my phone clock again, I realized that even if I was on the train right now, I would likely miss the last bus from the transit station. I should have been paying more attention. Finding a lit storefront to stop in front of, I pulled up the car service application. My request was accepted and I continued down the side street towards the main through street my ride would pick me up on. I had a few minutes before the car would arrive.
This side street was not busy, but still some people passed as they left restaurants or headed towards bars and nightclubs. A few men on motorcycles pulled up across the street. I tried not to stare, but a man on a bike always got my attention. It was ridiculous, I know. And they were probably ten years younger than me. I guess the not-so-practical side of me was wild and was always jealous of anyone who had the balls to ride. A notification buzzed on my phone and I looked down—my ride was delayed. Letting out a sigh, I scanned the street again. I probably should have realized I would miss the bus from the restaurant and waited inside for my ride, but it was too late now.
A blacked out SUV slowed to a roll as it approached on the opposite side of the street. Then, the unmistakable pop of gunfire filled the air, followed by screaming. I dropped tothe sidewalk and covered my head. There was nothing to hide behind. I had no idea which way bullets were flying and I had nothing to hide behind. All I could hear was my breathing and my heart pounding in my ears as the SUV sped away. Peeking up from the sidewalk, I saw the three motorcycles toppled in the street. Two of the bikers were on the ground and the third was trying to scramble around the bikes to get to his friends.
Without thinking I pressed myself up from the sidewalk and ran across the street, only glancing quickly to make sure no cars were coming. One of the bikers was clearly dead with bullet holes in his face and head. The other was coughing and trying to move, his friend was trying to hold him down as he attempted to pull back the wounded man’s leather jacket from a bleeding wound. My hands shook as I dialed the emergency number and hit the speaker button. Then I quickly knelt next to the bleeding man. I tore my blouse off and quickly pressed it over the leaking bullet hole in the man’s side. “Are you hit anywhere else?” I asked loudly as I leaned over him.
“What is your emergency?” The voice on the emergency line came through.
“There’s been a shooting on …” I paused and looked up at the building sign. “Outside the back entrance to … The Devil After Dark. People have been shot.” I squinted at the lettering on the large steel door set into the ancient stone of the building. I had never noticed the door before and had walked this same street nearly a hundred times after client dinners.
“Police officers and ambulances are on their way, ma’am. Have you been injured?”
“No, but I am with someone who has a bullet wound in their abdomen and another man appears to be dead.” I looked up at the other biker. “Have you been hit?” He shook his head, no. “I do not know if anyone else is injured.”
“If you are in a safe place, stay where you are. Officers will be there in two minutes. I will stay on theline with you.”
I could hear the sirens in the distance. At least where we were in the city, the police were always close. “You hear that, the ambulance is coming. Hang on,” the biker said to his friend as he held his hand. I just kept my hands pressed firmly over my shirt and the bleeding wound.
two
LIANA
Nitrile glovedhands were gently removing my hands from my bloodied blouse covering the bullet wound and replacing them. Someone helped me to stand up and a blanket was draped around my shoulders. “This way ma’am, let's get you checked out.” A woman’s voice filled my ears. I just looked down at my hands. They were covered in blood.
“I’m not hurt,” I whispered.
“You might be in shock. Let's go have a seat. The officers will want to talk to you anyway and we can get you cleaned up,” she said, her voice was firm. I let her lead me to the back of one of the ambulances and sat where she told me to sit. I watched water pour over my hands as I rubbed them together and the blood washed away into the street. “Was that your friend?”
“No. I was across the street when it happened,” I replied numbly. My heart was still pounding in my ears and I was just trying to keep my hands from shaking as the medic helped clean them off.
“You might have saved that man’s life,” she said as I dried my hands.
I only nodded and reached up to pull the blanket around my shoulders. Looking down I realized I was just in my lacy bra. I tugged the blanket tighter to cover myself.
