Fandom: Night World, LJ Smith

Disclaimer: I confess. It belongs to someone else.

Dedication: To me! To me! To you, you, you, you, and you!

Summary: The fourth and final Wild Power needs to be found, and time is running out. Circle Daybreak is taking more desperate measures. But is accepting the aid of a traitor to the Night World desperation or brilliance? And what about their own agent - loose cannon Belladonna Turner?

Author Note at the end.

---

Where There's Moonlight, I See Your Eyes

Chapter Seven

---

I pressed my ear to the door, straining to listen. I could just barely make out the sounds of low, male voices rumbling. Three…four, wait – five voices. Who was missing? I strained to hear – I could hear the harsh, guttural rasping of Morel's voice, the hyper, fast-paced voice of Lukos, and of course, above it all, the frosty, ice-touched sound of Nick. Strangely enough, it calmed me down – my heart rate slowed and my breathing rate returned to normal.

Then, I heard a sixth voice – deep, commanding, and cruel. That had to be Ragnar. More mumbling, and then the sound of a door being shut firmly.

Was it safe? I slowly counted to a hundred, and when I heard nothing, carefully, quietly, edged the door open. I peeked carefully out into the hallway, first right, then left. Nothing. The hallway was dark – from my vantage point, I could make out a glow from under the study door – a light was turned on inside. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out into the dark hallway and glanced around once more.

Calm, Bee, calm. You can do this. It's a simple get in and get out.

I cautiously sidled my way to the end of the hallway and I saw the stairs – a simple flight with a door at the top. I knew from previous experience that steps – especially the middles – had a tendency to creak loudly when you stepped on them and alert everyone in the vicinity that you were up to something clandestine. Fortunately, I had learned what to do. Ideally, one should swing over the banister, cling onto it, and stand on the edges of the steps. Once having reached the top, it would be a simple matter to swing back over the banister and enter. However, this particular flight of stairs had no railing, so I had to settle for hugging the wall and inching my way up, taking alternate steps – step on one, miss the other, step on the next, miss the one after that – to minimize the chances of treading on a creaking stair.

It was slow and nerve-wracking work, but I finally made my way up the staircase, one hand against the smooth wall, the other clinging onto the doorknob. Before I turned it, I went over the plan one more time –

Once I touched the crystal, alarms would go off. I had to dart from here to the other flight of stairs and dash down, hide in the bushes, and wait for Nick. The only insurance I had that I wouldn't get caught between here and there was Nick's casual statement that he would "distract everyone else". Funny how I felt completely content with that. I shook my head. Somehow along the way, Nick and I had, well, bonded. Or at least, I felt I understood him more than I used to.

He was still an arrogant, annoying, infuriating prick though.

With that final thought ringing through my mind, I twisted the doorknob and stepped in, leaving the door open behind me for a quick exit. I quickly cast a cursory look around the room – the first thing that caught my sight was a large oak pedestal, about four feet high, with a small gem resting atop it. My breath caught in my throat – this was what we'd been searching for, the solution to Daybreak's dilemma. I crossed over to it and gazed down. It was pretty boring for a magical artifact of immense power – a deep yellow, the exact shade of primrose hearts; and shaped like a small uncut diamond, just large enough to fit comfortably into my palm. It didn't shine or glisten like a normal crystal would – it just sat there. I allowed myself to feel a fraction of the joy and triumph welling up inside of me, and I saved the rest for later – time to celebrate when you're in one of Daybreak's safe houses, I told myself sternly.

With that sentiment, I stretched my hand out over the gem; and with one swoop, snatched it and spun, ready for the alarms – but my heart sank at the sight before me. A tall, imposing vampire with dirty blond hair and piercing green eyes stood before me, blocking the doorway. At his side stood the wiry Lukos, a shark-like grin across his face.

"I knew you weren't a mesmerized human. Nick's never brought a pawn before – why should you be the exception?" Lukos panted. The question didn't seem to need an answer, and there was definitely no way to explain my way out of this situation. My hand inched towards the bag at my hip, inched towards the weapons I had brought –

"Don't move. You even so much as twitch and I'll give the order for your friend to have his head ripped clean off his shoulders!" Ragnar spoke for the first time, his voice deep and cold and sharp, like a cleaver cutting straight through bone. I looked wildly around – my friend? Ragnar stepped slightly aside and two figures – no, three, came through the doorway. I gasped – Morel and another vampire – Schaden – were roughly restraining a struggling Nick, who was held in between them. He met my eyes for a moment, and straightened, his head thrown back like a prince. It was as though an invisible beam of understanding shot through us, from eye to eye, and I knew what to do. I dropped the crystal and positioned my foot directly over it.

"Let him go. Let him go or I smash this crystal and screw up your sick agenda." I threatened, trying to sound determined and imposing.

Ragnar laughed, but I saw uncertainty stain his eyes. "You wouldn't. That stone under your foot is Daybreak's salvation."

"Listen, asshole, I don't have time for banter. That guy over there has betrayed you for Daybreak, and that means he's officially – whether he wants to be or not – on our side. And I am completely willing to trash this rock –" I lowered my foot onto it slightly, "to save his life. So stand down."

Ragnar sighed dramatically. "Poor, poor vermin. So desperate. So noble." His eyes glowed silver. "It'll be almost too easy to kill you."

Before I could lower my foot and carry out my threat, he'd launched himself at me, pinning me to the ground with a hand on my throat. He smiled viciously. "Don't ever threaten those more powerful than you." With that, he lowered his mouth to my neck, his canines elongating. I struggled more furiously, knowing what would come next – but I hadn't counted on Nick. Over Ragnar's shoulder, I could vaguely make out a silver tornado, moving in a blur and throwing off the figures hanging onto it – first one, then the other. Nick dove at Ragnar and pulled him away, just as his teeth grazed my neck. I quickly scrambled to my feet, touching my neck. My fingers came away bloodstained.

No time for tactical thinking. I joined the fray, whipping out a double-bladed dagger – one edge wood, the other silver. Rashel had given it to me for my seventeenth birthday.

I wildly slashed at Schaden – a short, thin vampire with deadly eyes the color of redwood trees. He yanked at my arm, trying to pull the knife out of my hand – I refused to let go, resulting in a large gash from the silver end stretching across my palm. I gasped at the pain, stumbling backwards. Out of nowhere, Nick appeared, holding Schaden's arms behind his back and giving me an intense look. Catching on, I quickly staked Schaden through the heart, wincing as I felt muscle, tendon, and bone give way.

"The crystal!" Nick hissed, before Morel grabbed him from behind, whirling him around. Nick let loose with a vicious hook that tossed him backwards, hitting the wall and leaving a large hole in the plaster as he sank to the floor. Unfortunately, Morel was down but not out, as he quickly scrambled to his feet and launched himself at Nick's throat.

No time! No time to watch – I swallowed back the feelings of terror, of wanting to help Nick – he could handle himself. I ran to the foot of the pedestal, where I had dropped the crystal, and froze. Ragnar was standing nonchalantly by the crystal, an elbow resting on the plinth and propping his chin up. A thoughtful expression was across his face. I edged warily towards him, switching my blade from my wounded hand to my weaker left one – while my right would be more accurate, the blood was flowing at such a pace that my grasp had become slippery.

Behind me, Morel, Lukos, and Nick fought in a flurry of fists, fangs, and fur – Lukos had shifted to wolf. I saw from the corner of my eye, Nick pinning down Morel with a foot on his stomach and yanking on his arm – there was a sickening pop and Morel screamed in pain.

I quickly snapped back to what was before me – keeping an alert eye on Ragnar, I edged closer, not wanting to go within grabbing distance but having to – the crystal was practically on his foot. Grab, slash, and run, I told myself, repeating the words over and over like a mantra. Grab, slash, and run.

I dove for the crystal, snatching it in my wounded hand, and drove the wooden blade through Ragnar's foot, piercing the shoe leather and driving it in just as it was coming down on my back in a kick that – had it connected – would have splintered my spine. Ragnar hissed in pain, drew his foot back up, and I rolled away, springing to my feet.

Too close! I had misjudged the distance! I felt for my knife, but it was gone – I caught a glimpse of it lying several feet away. Ragnar seized my wrist, applying pressure till the pain was so bad I had to let go of the crystal. It dropped to my feet, made slick by the blood from my palm. I looked Ragnar straight in the eye, and knew then, that this was it.

Then, suddenly, miraculously, as the Crowley Crystal fell, it began to shine with a marvelously bright yellow light, as though a miniature sun was blossoming right there in the attic. Ragnar gasped and backed away slightly. No time to think! I squinted my eyes and saw my chance – while the brightness had shocked me, it had completely blinded Ragnar, whose eyes were adapted for night hunting. I snatched the crystal and shoved it into my pocket, shooting a vicious kick Ragnar's way for good measure, right between the legs. He groaned and doubled over – hey, I may not be lamia, but I pack a pretty decent punch. Or kick, as it were. I spun and saw that Nick had dispatched both Morel and Lukos and was dusting off his hands. His canines had elongated and his eyes shone silver; pure, bright silver. His face was unreal, otherworldly.

Nick saw me approach, and gave a curt nod. Then he caught sight of the blood staining my hands, my clothes, and he strode over, grabbing my hands in his and turning them over, searching for the wound. I felt a little awkward, watching the uncannily beautiful vampire countenance fade into the face I was more familiar with. Nick looked up at me, holding my injured hand and stroking his fingers gently over the cut, as light as a whisper. For the second time, I could feel myself flowing towards him, able to make out every hue of color in his eyes, the tiny lines in his soft-looking lips –

"Nick!" I yanked on his arms, pulling him to the side as a large black wolf lunged, missed, and crashed into the pedestal, smashing it into little wooden fragments. Nick instantly reacted, his face changing. He pushed me behind him, and was immediately attacked by Lukos, who ripped into Nick's torso with his large, vicious jaws.

What could I do? I frantically searched for my knife, finally spying it barely a foot from where Nick and Lukos were trading punches – I snatched it up and threw it, end-over-end, praying as it flew through the air.

My aim was true. It buried itself, silver side, into the wolf's chest. With a piteous moan, Lukos sank to the floor, his back legs twitching. I let out a breath that I wasn't aware I was holding.

"Are you okay?" I asked Nick tersely, pressing his hard body with nervous fingers, trying to find his wound by touch alone. He winced, and pulled a bloody section of his shirt away from his body. "I'm okay. I'll heal."

Of course, I couldn't rest easy with that – I pulled up his shirt and gasped at the wound.

"Nick, it's –"

"Not as bad as it looks. Now come on!" he grabbed my wrist and together, we sprinted out of that attic and down the stairs, him practically dragging me along. Then, as we neared the next flight of stairs, I saw the hulking, huge figure waiting out approach – the Night Person missing from the battle, Tigris. I glared at Nick. "He's a TIGER?"

"You couldn't figure that out by his name?" Nick replied scathingly, releasing my wrist and tensing as the deadly, feral creature on the stairs coiled, settling on its haunches, preparing to spring.

Oh shit. This wasn't going to end well – Nick was wounded and I'd left my knife back upstairs in Lukos' body.

"No time!" I grabbed Nick and spun, dragged him back to his room. Behind me, I heard the tiger jump, land heavily on the floor, skidding across the well-polished teak – I quickly entered the room and slammed the door. No point in bolting it. Crossing to the large windows, I picked up with some difficulty, the chest-of-drawers. Nick, seeing my plan, lifted it from my hands and threw it at the glass, shattering it completely. Behind us, I heard the door splinter.

"We have to jump." I cried, grabbing Nick's hand. Nick turned to me. "You're crazy. You won't survive that." I opened my mouth to argue, but was stunned into silence when Nick grabbed me, holding me in his arms like you'd hold a child. The next second, we were flying – falling – through the night air! I tried to scream, but it was swallowed by the fear that was choking me. I felt Nick twisting below me, compensating for the speed at which we were dropping. We landed heavily, and I rolled from Nick's arms, hitting the ground hard – but with considerably less force than I would have if I'd jumped. I turned and saw Nick on his knees, breathing hard. His face looked pale – or paler than usual. I cursed. "Your stomach!" I leaned over him and he brushed me away. I caught sight of the wound – it was gone. Not even a blemish on his pale skin. Amazing – vampire healing ability. Just amazing.

"It's fine. The rope." His sentences were short, to-the-point. We dashed over to the rope, hanging over the ravine I'd spotted last night, and my heart sank. I don't do heights well.

"Just don't look down," Nick called over his shoulder, already a quarter of the way across.

Huh. Easy for him to say. He'd survive that drop. I turned, looking for an alternative – lucky I did, because behind me I saw the silhouette of a big cat at the window we'd just leapt from. Tigris had made it through the thick oak door and was now preparing to follow us! I jumped slightly and grabbed the rope, wincing at the knives that shot through my right palm.

Hold on girl, just hold on, I told myself firmly. Sharp, white-hot pain seared through my right palm – the cut had been deeper than it had looked.

Come on Bee – it's one lousy rope. Hand over hand. Don't be so pathetic – what would Jez say? Jez who got staked? Or Keller, who fought the dragon? Or freaking Hannah, who went up against Maya. One lousy little rope shouldn't be such a big deal.

And then my mistake. I glanced down.

High! So high! I didn't realize that the gorge was this deep – it hadn't seemed this bad from the window. The pit below me was deep, dark, and I could see myself in my mind's eye, falling, spiraling into that obsidian blackness – my grip loosened…my right hand slipped off the rope, and I gasped. The blood was making it slick, making a grip harder. I wiped my hand off on my jeans, ignoring its painful protest at its rough treatment. Swinging my hand back up, I grabbed onto it, moving hand over hand once more, at a slower pace. I could feel warm tears track down my face, and I took deep breaths – I couldn't help it. I was deathly terrified of heights – even as a child, I couldn't even play on swings, because I'd feel like throwing up. Hand over hand – my world diminished to just the rope, to the coarse feel of it under my palms, the stabbing pains in my hand, and my legs dangling off into nothingness – no!

The pain was getting worse – the rough material of the rope was cutting into the wound, making it deeper, twisting inside it. It was still bleeding, and my hand slipped off again. I couldn't help it – a sob escaped my lips. Quiet, barely discernible, but a sob. Nick, just a few meters ahead of me, switched hands and turned agilely on the rope, as though he did this everyday.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fi-fine," I managed to get out through trembling lips, moving another inch or so. Nick gave me a searching look, and then moved agilely towards me, hand over hand.

"Hold on to me."

"What?" I looked up, my eyes wide.

"Let go of the rope and wrap your arms around my neck."

"You can't carry us both over!"

"Yes, I can. Come on. Let go with your right hand first."

I did so, winding it around his neck.

"Now the other one. You can do it."

I shot him a glance. Compassion, from a vampire? It was happening more and more. I let go with my left hand, dropping down and just managing to curl my left arm around Nick's shoulder, clinging onto his lithe body and hiding my face in his shirt.

Shit. I couldn't remember a time where I'd been more terrified. I held on tightly, sneaking a look straight down and then hiding my face again. I felt Nick swing around again, and then move in a steady, swinging motion; moving swiftly across the ravine. I held on tightly, not looking down, not moving, until I felt us hit solid ground.

Gently, almost tenderly, Nick reached around and unwound my hands from his neck, holding them for a moment longer.

"They won't follow us – Tigris is too stupid and too cowardly to have followed us. He's probably gone back and is telling Ragnar we've escaped," he said scornfully. Then, in a different tone –

"Are you okay?" he asked again, his voice no more than a low whisper. I nodded mutely, not able to find my voice for a moment. He gazed at me a moment longer, and then took my palm, turning it to face upwards. I let out a hiss of pain when I saw how bad it looked – bloody, the ends were ragged, sore and red. It would need stitches at the very least. Nick brushed his fingers gently over it, and I shivered slightly at the coolness I felt from his feather-light touch.

"That blood is as good as a billboard telling them where we are."

We? He'd been using that word a lot more lately. I gasped – Nick's fingers were still across my palm, but now the coolness I felt was more of a soothing tingle, spreading into my palm and across my hand, across the wound – and before my astonished eyes, I saw flesh knit, skin reform, blood fade.

"What…what did you do?"

"I gave you some Power. It's harder to do when you're not a vampire, but I suppose it does help." He sounded faintly amused. His face wore a strange expression, as though he had discovered something he hadn't known before.

I flexed my hand experimentally. "Thank you." I looked up at him more intensely. "Thank you – you saved me. Again. I mean…I'm sorry I flipped on you like that, but I'm terrified of –"

"Heights, the dark, and that freaky chick with the bad haircut from The Ring."

My mouth fell open. "How did you know that?"

Nick shrugged. "I do."

I looked up at Nick wonderingly, taking in once more the absolutely breathtaking beauty of his well-sculpted features, that frostlike silver-blond hair, those unknowable eyes that were at this moment, strangely warm-looking and gentle.

"Scared?" he whispered, as we drank in the sight of each other.

"No." I heard myself whisper back softly.

I felt myself flowing towards him again, my legs feeling weak and the air around me feeling like cotton. Those eyes captured mine, steel-gray and silver-blue and gentle green all at once. I felt myself leaning closer and something at that moment – I don't know what, and I don't think I ever will – struck in me, an almost musical feeling, like a well-tuned piano being played for the first time in years. I reached out and wound my left arm around his waist, resting my hand in the small of his back. Nick's eyes widened slightly, and although he didn't remove his gaze from my face, he moved his lips. "We shouldn't do this."

All his words served were to direct my gaze to his mouth, and I was again entranced by how soft his lips looked, how smooth and delicate the skin there was – possibly the only yielding part of this icy, statue-like man before me. And I knew that, whatever would happen, I just wanted to feel them against mine, to see if they truly were as tempting as they appeared.

"Yes we should," I whispered, pulling him closer and closer to me. His head lowered towards mine, and the last thing I saw were those indescribably ethereal orbs of his, the last thing before his lips met mine in a kiss that was sweet and soft and incredibly dizzying, a kiss that seemed to tilt the world on its axis, that seemed to halt everything in nature – there was no future, there was no past, there was only this. Him, and I, and this kiss, his lips moving tenderly over mine, strong and demanding, yet protective and oh! so gentle…and there was a beautiful silvery-gray mist settling over us, wrapping us in feelings as gentle and as fragile as a butterfly's wings. I was falling and soaring and enveloped in a curious mixture of feeling terrified and feeling safe. I wasn't sure what happened next – who broke away, who stopped the kiss, but when I looked up, I knew we weren't where we had been before. We were no longer standing by a huge ravine in a Night World safe house, but instead in a place where there were no barriers, no walls – we were floating in a gleaming mist, our arms around each other. It was some sort of middle zone – behind Nick; I could see the frozen landscape, now no longer in the midst of a blizzard, but snowing softly, gently, covering the ground like a soft blanket. Beyond that, I could see a multitude of purple flowers, dotting the ground, now broken out of the ice palace and growing wild.

Where are we? What is this? I asked, not really very concerned, merely mildly interested. I was much more fascinated by the handsome face before mine.

We are…where we're meant to be. Nick replied, his hands running up and down my back, stroking me gently. And where is that? I asked, raising an eyebrow. He hadn't changed that much – still obnoxious – but that just made me happy. He was perfect just the way he was.

Whoa, where had that thought come from? Somehow, I knew it was strange, but I couldn't manage to work up the energy to care.

You don't know? he asked, in the same tone he had when I had asked him what the flowers in his mind.

No. I admitted. I don't.

Belladonna…it's the soulmate principle.

No! No it wasn't – that's ridiculous. I was seventeen, I didn't want – I wasn't ready for a soulmate! I was happy; I was perfectly fine as a whole soul. Undamaged, not split by the universe.

I don't want this. I said, feeling torn apart as I saw the surprised and hurt look in Nick's eyes. I didn't want this, I amended.

Neither do I. Neither did I. His lips descended towards mine once more, and my hands tangled in his hair as we kissed again, my breath mingling with his in a kiss that sent my pulse racing. I could feel his heart beating. I was the first to break away this time.

Nick – we're still in danger. We should…we should…

I know.

An inescapable tightening, I felt our connection getting thinner and thinner. No! some part of me cried, No, I want this to stay. I want us to stay this way.

But there were other things going on – lives carrying on outside ours. Lives in danger. I shook my head and pulled my mind away from Nick's, and found myself out of that misty dream world, back in reality. I blinked and looked around. Compared to the beauty of the place I had been, the happiness and contentment and joy I had felt, the real world was…stark. Cold. Everything had edges and was bright and sharp and cutting.

"It's different." Nick observed, his intense eyes meeting mine.

"It is," I agreed, gazing at that perfectly sculpted face, straight into his eyes. I'd learned that for even the barest hint of what he was thinking, for any sliver of emotion, you have to go straight to Nick's eyes.

What did I see there that night? Many things. Joy. Wonder. Dismay. Shock. The same things mirrored in my eyes, I suppose. I'd found my soulmate, no-one could look on that with anything but joy. Wonder at how obvious it seemed, how…how unquestionable it was that we were meant for each other. That we had opposite parts of the same soul – I mean, we even looked like opposites! He was fair as I was dark – aesthetically speaking. Inside, I was the Daybreaker; he was the one with the Night World. Dismay – I wasn't a whole soul. My life was tied, I was tied. I wasn't responsible for just myself anymore. And shock – shock that it was Nick. Shock that it happened so quickly. No warning, no prior thoughts, not even a clue. I mean, I'd heard from Mary-Lynette that the first moment you touch your soulmate, you know, you feel them in your mind. That hadn't happened to us. I looked up at Nick, uncertainty written across my face.

"What is it?"

"It's just…I mean, in most of the cases I've heard of, soulmates know each other like that," I snapped my fingers to demonstrate. "And we…well, we…didn't like each other very much. That's an understatement."

"Didn't we?"

"Well, I thought you were an obnoxious prick, and on a less important note, one of the smartest and most gorgeous guys I've met. But…"

Nick shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know why we didn't feel it immediately, but strangely…" he sighed and switched to the mind-to-mind bond soulmates had. I don't care. I'm just…he sounded surprised. Just happy that we felt it eventually. That doesn't happen to me much.

What doesn't?

Feeling happy.

Oh, Nick…

I felt my heart go out to him, but I contained myself, wrapping my arms around myself so I wouldn't move towards him.

An awkward silence ensued.

"We should, uh, get going." Nick muttered. "Ragnar has probably alerted all of his allies by now."

I checked my watch, shocked. The entire episode had taken about five minutes – it had felt like so much longer. Hours. Eons.

"Come on." Nick grabbed my hand almost unconsciously and walked with me. "I left my bike outside the grounds – just in case."

It was only when we had sped off into the night that I remembered the one question I really wanted to ask.

"What are those flowers? The purple ones?"

I knew he smirked again. I knew it. Even if we weren't soulmates, it was simple probability and statistics.

"You truly don't know what they are?"

"You KNOW I don't Nick! Spit it out!" I yelled over the roar of the wind.

"They're plants of a certain type. Highly poisonous. Able to paralyze nerves. Capable of being used in many ways – as an analgesic, a sedative, a narcotic, a hallucinogen."

"Sorry, I used to skip my bio classes. And my chem, for that matter. What are they?"

His answer was just one word. One word that silenced me for the rest of the ride home, one word that sent my mind into a flurry of thoughts and ideas and concepts that I needed to sort out.

"Belladonnas."

---

Thanks to the people who reviewed xD reviews make me happy. Lurkers, reveal thyselves! Bwahaha.

Notes

Bee's banister-climbing trick – is actually a fact. Of course, this only works on wooden stairs.

Belladonnas – are actually a deadly poisonous flower. For Night World's sake, I prettied them up a bit, but please do not go eating them or touching them. Every single bit of them is poisonous, from the leaves to the roots. Yes, it's an analgesic (painkiller) but it's also deadly.

- WalkThruTheFire.