Knight of Darkness

Chapter 1

T-Minus 8 Days

Oh, shit.

Rachel was going to be late for work. Again. Worse, if she got another black mark on her record for tardiness, it could mean a fine, a demotion, or if Ainsley was in a particularly nasty mood, her job.

Wondering what excuse could she give this time, Rachel grabbed her purse and then unlocked her apartment door. Quickly relocking it with her key, she whirled to head downstairs and bumped into a warm body. She grunted from the impact as she bounced backwards against the door. She hit the doorknob with her lower back and pain lanced up her spine. At the same time, she heard the other person cry out.

Hey!

She tried to move out of the way, not knowing which way the other person was heading. She felt something snag her blouse and she instinctively tried to snatch it away. The movement made her lose her balance in her new pair of heels, and Rachel gave a little squeak as she started to fall forward. Sight of the stairs looming toward her sent cold fear through her until her hand was caught in another. There was a jerk, and she was pulled around, right into a pair of arms. But her momentum kept her going, and they both landed on the floor with her on top.

It took a second for her brain to register what had happened. Stunned, she raised her head to find a pair of blue-gray eyes staring up at her in surprise.

Hey, are you okay?

Pale hands were holding her upper arms. They immediately released her when she struggled to her feet.

Uh, yeah. Sorry, she mumbled in apology. I gotta go.

Hey, sorry about the shirt.

She barely acknowledged his apology. Grabbing her purse where it had fallen, Rachel started down the stairwell toward the ground floor. She didn’t need to look back to know the young man was watching her hasty departure.

God, he must think I’m the rudest person on the face the earth.

But once she was outside of the building, her attention was on running for the bus stop at the corner of the next block and praying she wasn’t too late. Incredibly, luck was with her. The downtown express was still at the curb, but it started to swing its doors shut just as she got to the bus. Rachel pounded on the side of the vehicle with her fist, and the doors swung open to allow her inside. Out of breath, she flashed the driver a smile and slid her frequent rider card through the payment terminal, then took the next available seat.

As soon as she was settled, her thoughts went back to the collision on the second floor landing. She focused on the young man who had prevented her from possibly taking a header down the stairs and breaking her neck.

He had moved into the apartment across the hallway about three months ago. In all that time, she had only caught a glimpse of him maybe a dozen times. Every time it had been on a weekend, right before noon, which probably explained why she never saw him during the weekday, since she was normally at work at that time. He probably only ventured out at that time on a regular basis.

From what she’d observed, he would leave his apartment, be gone an hour or two, never longer, and always return with a sack of groceries, a newspaper, and a library book. Although she was unable to get a good look at what kind of books he read, she had recognized the library stamp on the spine.

This was the first time she’d heard him speak, and the sound of his voice seemed out of place with the body. It was deep, well within the bass range. The voice one would associate with a bigger man, or a more mature man. It was a voice that conjured up images of muscular heroes with brooding looks.

Are you okay?

Remembering the sound of it sent shivers through her.

At the next stop the woman sitting next to Rachel got up and left. She scooted over to sit next to the window so she could stare silently out at the passing scenes. In truth, her thoughts were turned inward as she wondered about the person living in quiet solitude not twenty feet away from her own front door. She never heard any music or loud noise coming from his place. Not even a television blared out on occasion.

Rachel paused. Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember ever seeing him wearing anything other than a plain white T-shirt, a pair of raggedy jeans, and scuffed brown loafers. Without socks. She smiled. Yet, despite his attire, he always appeared to be clean and clean-shaven.

His hair was a muddy blond color that some people referred to as dishwater blond. He wasn’t tall or well-built, either. In fact, he was just the opposite¾thin and bony, with almost bleached-white skin that proved he didn’t get a lot of sun.

Still, something about the young man intrigued her. She guesstimated he was in his mid- to late-twenties, but until this morning, she hadn’t spoken more than half a dozen words to him. So what was it about the guy that fascinated her?

Knight.

The name popped into her head. The name on his mailbox downstairs read S. Knight. Wonder what the S stands for? She hadn’t thought much about it before, but after this morning it intrigued her.

Sam. I like the name Sam. Or maybe it’s Steve. Nahh, he doesn’t look like a Steve. Rachel made a face, which reflected back to her in the bus window. Maybe it’s foreign, like Sean. Sean Knight. Yeah, I kind of like that.

The bus stopped at its next designated location. Rachel caught an advertisement painted on the bench. Sydney Kollinski Insurance. She laughed softly to herself. Oh, please, don’t let it stand for Sydney. But with the way her life had been going these past four years, ever since she’d left home to become independent and make something of herself, Rachel wouldn’t put it past fate to deal her a Sydney or a Sheldon instead of a Sean.

Regardless of whether he’s a Sam, Sean, Sydney, or Sheldon, you owe him more than a word of thanks for grabbing you when he did, a little voice derided her. Her conscience was right. She could easily have fallen down those stairs and broken her neck if Mr. I-hope-his-name-isn’t-Sheldon hadn’t intervened. She signed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. So what should I do? she asked herself.

The squeal of air brakes answered her, and Rachel saw it was her stop. Quickly, she exited the vehicle and rushed the next two blocks for the three-story building which housed Metro Telemarketers. The time clock already read three minutes past the hour, but as tardiness went, she had made good time. Considering.

I think this is the earliest you’ve ever been late, Randy remarked as he relinquished the chair to her.

You’re lucky I’m here at all. She plopped down in the vacated seat and put on her earpiece. By the time she swiveled around and reached down to drop her purse into the bottom file cabinet, Randy was gone. While she was waiting for her first transferred call of the day, she heard a sound behind her. Rachel glanced up to see Kellie with two cups of coffee, one of which the woman extended out to her. Thanks, Rachel whispered, accepting the cup.

Don’t mention it. Her best friend started to grin, when it suddenly turned into a frown. Kellie reached over and plucked her sleeve. Did you know your blouse is torn?

Huh? Rachel glanced at it, remembering. Oh, yeah. That happened this morning. It’s why I’m late.

Kellie did her Mr. Spock imitation, complete with raised eyebrow. Oh, really? It must be fascinating. You can tell me all about it at lunch.

Lunch.

Lunch?

No, supper!

Rachel broke into a wide smile. That was the answer! Supper! She would fix Mr. Please-let-your-name-be-something-romantic a nice supper to thank him for preventing her from nearly killing herself.

And then what, Rachel?

Damn niggling little voice.

And then, I don’t know.

Like Momma used to say, We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Chapter 2

I found a way to get two tickets to go see Travis McKay this weekend, Kellie told her. Wanna come?

Rachel looked over her hamburger at her friend in awe. No way! How did you manage that minor miracle?

Kellie grinned. You know that cute guy who’s the assistant manager over at DellPhonics? His brother works for Ticket Genie.

Rachel grimaced. Oh, geez, Kell. What did you have to promise the guy in return? A blow job?

To her relief, Kellie snorted like it was some sort of private joke. She was about to answer when she paused with her mouth half-open. Hey, I was going over there after work to pick up the tickets. Why don’t you come with me, and I’ll introduce you to him. Maybe the four of us could double date it.

Rachel was on the verge of taking her friend up on her offer when she remembered she had made other plans. Oh, geez. Sorry. No can do. Guess I’m going to have to take a rain check.

Don’t tell me. Kellie rolled her eyes then squinted them as if she was thinking hard. You already have a hot date.

When Rachel didn’t answer immediately with a negative or some other type of retort, her eyes widened with surprise. "Oh, my gosh, Rach! You have a date?"

Well, not a real date, Rachel admitted.

But you’ve got plans to see a guy, right? I’m right, aren’t I?

Yeah, but it’s not what you’re thinking.

That’s a date in anyone’s book, Rachel Grohl! Jiminy, I’m going to have to mark this one on the calendar in red.

It’s not so much a date as it is a ‘thank you’, Rachel reemphasized. Ignoring Kellie’s look of disbelief, she plunged on. I was running late this morning, and I ran out of my apartment and collided with my neighbor across the hall. I could have fallen down the stairs and broken my neck if he hadn’t caught me in time.

Wait, wait. Kellie stuffed a french fry into her mouth before continuing. Are you talking about that skinny guy you said moved in next door a few weeks ago? The one with the geek bod and big nose? The runt of the litter?

Yes, him. But he’s not―

He’s not what? Didn’t you tell me not too long after he moved in that he reminded you of a vampire because he was so pale and thin?

Rachel flinched. True.

Kellie threw her hands up into the air. Okay, I give. So he stopped you from taking a tumble down the stairs. You’re going to reward him for his derring-do with a date?

With a home cooked meal. I’m going to fix him a nice dinner.

Uh-huh. You realize that’s your little Jewish grandmother coming out in you, don’t you, Rach? You can’t stand to see anyone looking underfed. So what did he say when you invited him over?

I haven’t asked him yet. I just thought about doing it this morning.

Awright. Any idea what you plan to fix? And please, don’t tell me chicken soup.

The cliché made her laugh. No. I promise no chicken soup. To be honest, I’ve narrowed it down to two dishes. That’s why I have to give you a rain check. I need to stop by the market on the way home.

And after dinner, then what? Kellie hinted at a possible amorous encounter with a waggle of her eyebrows.

Not what you’re insinuating, Rachel quickly countered. Geez, Kell. Can’t a girl say thanks without jumping in the sack with a guy?

Kellie shrugged. Sure, if you’re a girl. But guys don’t think that way, and you know that’s a fact without me having to tell you.

"Only if I give him reason to believe it. And I won’t give him any reason. Trust me. I’ll have on my least sexy outfit, with every button buttoned and not an inch of over-exposed skin. Besides, he’s not my type."

"Rach, you don’t have a type, Kellie dryly commented. The closest thing I’ve seen you drool over is any guy who resembles one of those romance novel heroes you’re always reading about."

Hey! Nothing wrong with a little wishful thinking! Rachel laughed in defense.

"You know as well as I do most of those guys are nothing more than walking douche bags who think all women are below them until one of them kicks him in the nuts hard enough to get his attention. Sure, they’re pretty to look at, and sport a buttload of muscles, but they’re still fiction, Rachel. Real guys who are blessed with good looks and some sensitivity don’t exist in the real world, either. Just look at Randy."

What about him?

Kellie let out an exasperated sigh. He’d make a perfect romance novel hero. He’s just oozing good looks and sex appeal, but emotionally he’s a dishrag.

I think he’s nice, Kellie. At least he is to me.

Oh, yeah, you would think that because he’s never tried to hit on you.

Rachel threw a wide-eyed look in her friend’s direction as she sipped her drink. Kellie nodded, as if she had read Rachel’s mind.

Yes, he’s tried to sweet talk his way into my panties, too, girlfriend.

Then why have I been left out of the club?

It’s obvious. You two are part of a team. You, Tyler, and Randy. Day, evening, and graveyard shift. If you and Randy ever got emotionally involved, and it didn’t work out, it would make the workplace a hell on earth.

"So what you’re saying