Gaslight (Crossbreed Series Book 4) Read online

  GASLIGHT

  CROSSBREED SERIES BOOK 4

  DANNIKA DARK

  GASLIGHT

  Crossbreed Series Book 4

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  DANNIKA DARK

  All Rights Reserved

  Copyright © 2018 Dannika Dark

  No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database retrieval system without the prior written permission of the author. You must not circulate this book in any format. Thank you for respecting the rights of the author. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Edited by Victory Editing and Red Adept. Cover design by Dannika Dark. All stock purchased.

  www.dannikadark.net

  Official Dannika Dark Newsletter

  Contents

  SUMMARY

  Also By Dannika Dark:

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Back Cover

  WHAT’S NEXT

  Want More?

  Books by Dannika Dark:

  SUMMARY

  Vampire trafficking is a sinister business, and nobody knows that better than Keystone. After Raven discovers hidden clues in a cold case, the group sets a trap in hopes of catching an elusive criminal. But when the plan backfires, Raven’s world is thrown into chaos, and Christian’s loyalty is put to the ultimate test.

  Buried secrets come to light, and the only thing keeping Raven grounded is her insatiable thirst for vengeance. The stakes are high as they travel to a place where the landscapes are as treacherous as the immortals who live there. This time, there’s no room for mistakes.

  Will Raven have the courage to tame the violence in her heart before it swallows her whole?

  Book 4

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  Also By Dannika Dark:

  THE MAGERI SERIES

  Sterling

  Twist

  Impulse

  Gravity

  Shine

  The Gift

  MAGERI WORLD

  Risk

  NOVELLAS

  Closer

  THE SEVEN SERIES

  Seven Years

  Six Months

  Five Weeks

  Four Days

  Three Hours

  Two Minutes

  One Second

  Winter Moon

  SEVEN WORLD

  Charming

  THE CROSSBREED SERIES

  Keystone

  Ravenheart

  Deathtrap

  Gaslight

  He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.

  - Friedrich Nietzsche

  Chapter 1

  When people harbor dark secrets, they close off their emotions. Or in the case of Wyatt, our resident Gravewalker, it was a door.

  Shepherd kicked his heavy boot against the wood door, rattling the hinges. “Open up, Spooky. I’m not standing out here all fucking day with this file.”

  I rested my shoulder against the wall. “Maybe Wyatt found a dead girlfriend and hung himself to spend eternity with her.”

  Christian faced me from the other side of the door and mirrored my stance. “Now there’s a morbid suggestion. I can hear his tummy grumbling, so don’t get your hopes up for a funeral, lass.”

  Shepherd gave up and anchored his back against the door. The short hairs of his buzz cut prickled against the wood as he turned his head to look at me. “Wyatt’s too scared of ghosts to kill himself.”

  My brows arched high. “Afraid? I thought he just didn’t like them.”

  Christian winked. “He’s angered so many dead people that he’s not invited to the afterlife parties. Ever seen him running about the mansion?”

  “When I first moved in, but Wyatt can be dramatic. I didn’t think it applied to all of them.”

  “According to Wyatt, most of the specters wandering about aren’t Gravewalkers. His kind will trample over toddlers and old ladies to run to the light. They don’t like to linger behind.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “It’s like sending a cop to prison,” Shepherd explained. “He spends a lot of effort ignoring the dead, and that pisses them off. Most Gravewalkers help with unresolved issues and all that bullshit.”

  I chuckled. “How exactly do they get paid when their client is six feet under?”

  “Relatives or associates pay Gravewalkers for information that only the deceased know, but it’s safe to say that most of us stash money that’s never found when we die. I’ve heard stories from Wyatt about the dead putting hits on the living. Some Gravewalkers still sniff out Vampires staked and buried in cemeteries, but that’s not a steady income. Wyatt doesn’t want any part of that. He’s an outcast among his own kind.”

  I sighed, my internal clock reminding me of the thirty minutes I’d spent waiting in the hall. “I need to check my messages, and we’re not allowed to look at that stuff on our phones. It looks like a laptop is going on my wish list.”

  “I thought it was a car,” Christian said.

  “That too, which is why it would be nice if Viktor would give me a special assignment between our big jobs.”

  Shepherd walked to the other side and struck a match against the wall. Sometimes, instead of carrying a matchbook, he tossed a few of the “strike anywhere” kind in his pants pocket.

  Christian absently stroked his scruffy beard. “It seems like only yesterday you were just a wee scavenger, begging for scraps in a bar. Now you want a computer this and a car that.”

  Though Christian spoke with derision, the hot look in his eyes made me warm all over. It had been a month since we’d quit denying the attraction between us to see where it led. So far, it hadn’t led anywhere. Viktor had sent him on assignment to track down an informant in Europe. This was the first time I’d seen Christian since his return the night before, and the absence of physical affection made me hang on his every word, every look, and every subtle shift of his body.

  Shepherd was too preoccupied lighting up a cigarette to notice the way Christian’s eyes locked on to my nipples, which tightened beneath my threadbare T-shirt. Bras were more of an accessory than a required garment in my life, much the way men had always been.

  “It’s chilly in here,” I remarked, watching the tip of his tongue wet the corner of his mouth.

  What could be going on in that head of his? I wonder if he fantasizes about me.

  “Want a lick?” He reached in his pocket and held up a flat yellow lollipop. Without waiting for my answer, he unwrapped the candy and slid it between his lips, which eased into a naughty grin.

  During my late-nig
ht walks, I’d mulled over our complicated situation. Christian had warned me that I shouldn’t love a man like him—that we’d never last. But I was tired of denying what I felt. Seeing my father for one last goodbye had not only given me closure on the past, but it reminded me of my capacity and desire to love. After years of living alone and having no one to care for, I wanted to give my love to another, even if the only person willing to accept it was a bloodsucking Vampire.

  One of the most romantic moments of my life had taken place in a graveyard, and I wondered what that said about my expectations of love. There I was, surrounded by the dead, while a Vampire held me in his arms and told me he was too wicked to love. It exemplified just how unconventional my life had always been, right from the beginning.

  Just looking at his hands made my heart quicken, because I remembered what they felt like on my body. What was he like in bed? Would we make love, or would he bend me over a table and fuck me like all those other women? Would intimacy change my feelings about him? Would he quickly lose interest? Would I? Above all, I couldn’t comprehend how my heart could yearn for a man so brash and so flawed. I’d never sought self-destructive relationships, and this one had all the makings of a runaway train careening off the side of a mountain.

  “Open the door before I piss on it!” Shepherd took a hard drag from his cigarette, the way a man does when he’s about to take action.

  I stepped back before he cleaved apart the door with his bare hands. Christian could have easily broken in, but he abstained from destroying property around the mansion. Apparently before my joining Keystone, there had been some anger-management issues. Viktor had grown tired of not only the repairs but also the lack of respect for his property.

  With the cigarette still dangling from his thin lips, Shepherd folded his arms and stared daggers at the door. “I should have installed a cheap lock on the knob. I can’t even pick the damn thing. Fucking bolt.”

  Which suddenly clicked. When the door quietly swung inward, we remained cemented in place like statues in a museum as Wyatt slowly backed away to grant us entrance.

  Shepherd squinted as he swaggered inside. “If I so much as see used tissues in the trash or a bottle of lotion, I swear to—” He paused halfway inside the room. “What the hell is that?”

  Christian and I stepped around him. Straight ahead against the opposite wall sat a large, rectangular object with a black cloth draped over it. Whatever it was, it was taller than Wyatt’s five-eleven stature and twice as wide.

  Wyatt sat on the edge of his desk, which ran alongside the right-hand wall. Computer monitors, keyboards, laptops, and stress toys littered the computer geek’s workspace. Using the sweat from his brow, he slicked back his wavy clumps of hair, which stuck out in every direction. Empty cardboard boxes littered the floor by the sofa, most of them folded flat. On the desk, I noticed a bottle of blue window cleaner and a rag.

  Christian eased into an office chair and crossed his legs. He gave Wyatt an “I told you so” look that piqued my curiosity.

  The familiar sound of Gem’s roller skates were fast approaching from the outside hallway. Seconds later, she whooshed inside the room and skidded to a stop. “Jiminy Christmas! What’s under there, a time machine?”

  Niko appeared beside me like a ninja. “What am I supposed to be marveling over?”

  Shepherd widened his stance and blew out a cloud of smoke. “Wyatt’s first computer.”

  Gem giggled, her hair wound up in two cute buns. “Maybe it’s a washer so he can do his own laundry.”

  Unfazed by the ribbing, Wyatt tapped his black cowboy boot against the concealed object. “Ladies and gents, what we have here is a state-of-the-art wonder of the modern world.” He stood up, giving us a showman’s speech. “I’ve gathered you here today to unveil my source of infinite joy.”

  “A giant french fry machine?” I grinned.

  Christian pulled the lollipop from his mouth. “Pray for a coffin. He’s going to need one after his speech is over.”

  Wyatt hitched up his jeans, thumbs tucked in the waistband. “You might ask yourselves… what compelled me to make such an extravagant purchase? Well, my days of traipsing downstairs and back up again have come to an end. I’m also fed up with people taking what’s mine—don’t think I haven’t noticed when things go missing from my drawers.”

  Shepherd shifted his stance. “If you don’t get on with it, I’m going to pull that cloth off myself and wrap you in it before we take a short drive to the mortuary.”

  Ignoring him, Wyatt gripped the edge of the black fabric, his olive-green eyes twinkling like a child’s on Christmas morning. “Brace yourselves, for your lives will never be the same again.”

  In a quick motion, he snapped his arm away and unveiled a giant vending machine.

  Gem rolled up to it and gaped at all the goodies. Chocolate cookies, flavored chips, candy, donuts, and even corn nuts.

  I arched a brow. “This is what you spent your paycheck on?”

  Wyatt scooted onto the edge of his desk and rubbed a red mark on his arm. “I’m in here working after midnight, and there’s nothing worse than getting the munchies only to find out that someone swiped my last box of Raisinets.”

  “Horseshit,” Shepherd grumbled. “No one’s stopping you from putting a lock on that drawer.”

  “Hey, I’ve got no problem sharing. But no one even asks. When I was a boy, you got licks for stealing food.”

  Gem turned a sharp eye on him. “Why are the donuts ten dollars?”

  “Elementary, dear Watson. Reimbursement.”

  Niko barked out a laugh. “It appears Wyatt’s World is officially open for business.”

  “Nothing wrong with a little initiative,” Wyatt said defensively. “Viktor doesn’t budget his money for the good stuff. I’m the one who pays for all the snacks in here, so you’re dipping into my paycheck every time you pilfer a bag of chips. I’ve inflated the prices temporarily to recoup my losses. After that, I’ll consider a price reduction.”

  Gem slowly rolled away from the machine. “You’re a greedy little man. No one’s going to pay five dollars for a candy bar.”

  He gave her a megawatt smile. “You say that now, but when midnight rolls around and your tummy’s growling, where are you going to turn when you find my drawers are empty? Everyone has a price.”

  “Alas, I’m watching my girlish figure,” she retorted.

  That made me chuckle. Gem was petite—not an ounce of fat on her body.

  Niko tilted his head to one side. “Your light’s flickering, Gem. Is there something you want to tell us?”

  She bit her lip to hide her growing smile, and her violet eyes flashed up. “I’m going on a date tonight.”

  Everyone slowly turned.

  She did a twirl. “A real date. I’m taking him to Flavors since I like their food and they have a lot of games.”

  “Good for you,” Wyatt said. “How much did you pay him?”

  Her look soured. “You’re just mad because I stole your thunder.”

  “So who’s the lucky fella?” Christian asked.

  “His name is Hooper. He’s a bartender at Nine Circles of Hell.”

  Wyatt belted out a laugh that ended with a snort. “That’s a therapy session I ain’t got time for.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “He serves alcohol. You don’t drink.”

  “That doesn’t mean we can’t go out on a date,” she countered.

  “Whatever you say, Rollergirl. That’s like a pimp dating a priest. Or a nun in your case.”

  “That’s a terrible analogy.”

  Niko folded his arms, a pensive look on his face. “Isn’t he a Sensor?”

  “You got a problem with Sensors?” Shepherd growled.

  Her shoulders sagged. “You guys are worse than a pack of wolves ripping apart a carcass. He’s a nice guy, and we clicked at Patrick’s party. So what if he’s a Sensor and I’m a Mage? Th
at doesn’t mean we can’t be compatible. We’re both eccentric and artistic individuals.”

  Wyatt twirled his pen. “Artistic. Isn’t he the one with designs shaved on his head? And the lip rings? You’ll have to let us know where else on his body he’s decided to be… artistic,” Wyatt said, making quotation marks with his fingers. “He might have a Prince Albert.”

  Chin up, she huffed and rolled toward the open doorway. “I don’t even want to know what that means.”

  Wyatt raised his voice when she rolled out of the room. “It’s when they have a piercing on their—”

  Christian gave him a hard shove. “Leave the lass alone. She’s young and wants to do a little frolicking.”

  “She only looks young. Someone who’s been around fifty years can’t be that naïve.”

  I rolled Christian’s chair away from the desk and activated the laptop. After a few keystrokes, I checked my messages. Viktor forbade us from doing extensive research on our phones since that information could easily wind up in the wrong hands if stolen.

  “And who might be sending you email?” Christian inquired, his inquisitive tone barely masking his jealousy.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “I would. Being that I’m your partner.”