Midnight Soul

by Kristen Ashley

  “Explain fully what you’re talking about,” I ordered.

  “I need employment,” she declared.

  I felt my head give a slight jerk with my surprise. “Whyever do you need that?”

  It was then I saw Josette’s head jerk.

  “Whyever do I need that?” she parroted.

  “That was my query,” I confirmed, and at her look of bemusement, I explained, “You can imagine my confusion since you’re already in my employ.”

  “There are showers here,” she said.

  “There are,” I agreed.

  And there were. Delightful rainfalls in the bathroom that were made more delightful when Noc led me to his and we both bathed together.

  “And you enjoy doing your own face paint, I mean…erm, makeup.”

  “I do indeed.”

  “And they have washing machines for clothes. And irons that get hot by plugging them into the wall. You don’t have to suspend them over fires.”

  I knew nothing of this, really, in this world or my other.

  Noc had shown us how this was done, of course, in his pursuit of introducing us to as many things as he could before he had to go to work (something that would happen that Monday, two days away, something that I was not looking forward to because it would take him from me).

  He was rather diligent in this endeavor in the hopes we’d be able to get along by ourselves when we’d be on our own.

  But obviously, considering the subject matter, I paid scant attention.

  “This isn’t explaining, Jo,” I informed her.

  “Frannie,” she leaned a hip against Noc’s basin, “we’re staying here, aren’t we? In this world.”

  “Yes, unless you don’t wish to remain,” I replied hesitantly.

  “I do wish to remain.” Another grin. “I like it here. But eventually you’ll have the things you do with Valentine. And you’ll be with Noc. And I’ll be—”

  “With me,” I finished for her.

  She scooted an inch toward me and her expression turned gentle.

  “Frannie, what I’m trying to say is, nearly everything is much easier here. It takes no time at all to do the things I do for you. I can’t sit around all day playing on my phone, watching the television and waiting for Glover to text when I can care for your clothes once a week and have that done in but hours, and I can arrange your hair in no time.”

  She had a point.

  “And people have employment here, jobs,” she continued. “Even wealthy people on the television have employment.”

  “You have a job,” I reminded her.

  “I do, but the only people I know are you and Noc, Circe, a little bit, and Valentine, and I don’t know her very well either. If I go to beauty school, I’ll make friends. If I get a job, I’ll meet people.”

  She had a point about that too.

  “So,” she forged on, “once I learn to drive and can get around on my own, I’ll go to beauty school and arrange hair as my employment. I’ll continue to take care of you, of course,” she hastened to add. “But then, once I start making this-world money, I’ll be able to get my own place to live and—”

  She’d been making excellent points.

  However, this last one alarmed me enough for my voice to rise as I interrupted her with, “Your own what?”

  “My own place to live.”

  I raised my brows. “And why would you need that?”

  She opened her mouth to speak but got naught out when we heard, “Everything okay in here?”

  I turned to see Noc at the doorway to his bathroom. He was wearing another suit. He looked decidedly handsome.

  I would tell him that later.

  I would also react later to the way his gaze became fixed on the lovely, feminine, flowy and elegant, but somewhat revealing (due to its slash from whimsical ruffled neckline to beltline) red dress that I wore.

  Now, there were other things to attend to.

  “Josette wishes to go to beauty school in order to obtain employment arranging hair for other people, doing this to make a living with the objective of eventually finding her own home,” I declared like I was saying, “Josette wishes to go on a violent rampage, murdering scores of people in the name of Meer, our god of war.”

  It appeared to take physical effort for Noc to tear his eyes away from my dress. They moved briefly to Josette before coming to me.

  “Baby, take a deep breath and think for five seconds about what you’re saying,” he urged quietly, going on, “And while you do that, think of how many people in your world get to pick the jobs they wanna have, getting paid well enough to do them that they’re able to afford places to call their own.”

  I didn’t need five seconds to think on this. I had no idea how many of such people lived in my world who were able to do that. I didn’t even care.

  I just knew if Josette wanted that, I wanted that for her.

  And she was saying she wanted that.

  I drew in a breath and I did it turning to her.

  “You do this knowing, when you leave me, if aught happens you don’t like, for instance you begin to feel lonely, you always have a home with me,” I declared.

  Her upper lip started quivering.

  “Do not weep,” I warned, feeling my own nose stinging.

  The words were trembling when she returned, “I won’t.”

  Noc interrupted our moment. “Right, before you two ruin your makeup, meaning you’ll have to wipe it all off and put it on again, can we get the hell outta here and get this fucked-up dinner done?”

  I turned again to him as Josette said, “I’m ready. I just need to go grab my bag.”

  She squeezed out of the space while I took in Noc’s expression.

  Tonight was our dinner with Dax Lahn and the director of the organization he supported.

  A dinner I’d arranged that Circe would attend.

  She was attending, however she didn’t know Dax would be there.

  I knew Noc was not anticipating this evening with glee.

  Now, studying him, I saw he was actually dreading it.

  I moved to him, lifting a hand and laying it on his chest, swaying close.

  “You don’t need to go,” I told him softly.

  “We’ve had this discussion,” he replied.

  “We have, but Josette and I can easily take a taxi—”

  He shook his head, his jaw getting hard. “You’re not gonna be sitting at a table with this Savage guy without me sitting right beside you.”

  My Noctorno.

  So protective.

  “I don’t know him,” he carried on. “That means I don’t trust him. And that means you or Jo or Circe are not gonna be sitting at a table with him unless I’m there. And since you all are gonna be there, I’m gonna be there.”

  Oh, my Noctorno.

  So protective of all of those who had a place in his heart.

  I smiled up at him.

  “Babe, that dress, that smile, your perfume, your hand on me, knowin’ I can get right to your nipple just sliding a hand inside that slit because I can tell you’re not wearing a bra, you want this done tonight, you best go get your bag too. You don’t do that and fast, you’re gonna be bent over the sink, Jo is gonna get an earful and we’re gonna be way fuckin’ late,” he growled.

  I felt a lovely tingle as my eyelids lowered and my smile changed, but, wisely, I moved away from him to enter the bedroom where my reticule was on the bed.

  I did this deciding to share with him that I’d very much like to engage in the activity he’d threatened me with.

  However, I’d do that later too.

  I was making sure I had everything I needed, screwing the cap shut firmly and sliding the lip gloss I still held into a side pocket of the little clutch when Noc spoke again.

  I looked to him as he did so and saw he’d turned my way and was leaning his shoulder into the doorjamb, watching me.

  “You wanna tell me why Valentine has all but disappeared?”
r />   I did.

  Yet I didn’t.

  “She’s seeing to business, Noc. She’d been in my old world training me for some time. Being home, there’s much she needs to catch up on.”

  This was not a complete lie for Valentine had told me that same thing.

  I watched Noc’s regard turn penetrating.

  “Just to say, gorgeous,” he started in a low tone, “anytime you keep somethin’ from me, no matter what it’s about, you better have a really fuckin’ good reason.”

  “She’s lost a lover,” I whispered.

  I saw Noc’s body come alert as he bit out, “Fuck. Breakup? Or…lost?”

  “I don’t believe he’s lost lost,” I answered. “Just lost to her. She’s quite heartsick.”

  That, he looked like he didn’t believe. “Valentine? Heartsick?”

  I nodded.

  “Fuck,” he repeated, quieter this time.

  “I, well, women tend to—”

  He shook his head, pushing away from the jamb and coming to me. “Say no more, Frannie.” He made it to me and put a hand to my waist. “That’s you lookin’ after your girl. I don’t need to know her business. In other words, you keepin’ her situation to yourself is a really good reason.”

  He understood.

  And I loved that.

  I smiled up at him again.

  He looked to my smile then he dipped his head and put his lips to it.

  When he lifted away, he asked, “You ready to go?”

  “I have been for several days now, my dearest.” I tipped my head to the side. “Are you?”

  He gave a slight shrug, stepped away but grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door stating, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  We collected Josette.

  Noc helped us both into his SUV (for Josette was wearing heels as well this night and she actually needed his assistance as she didn’t have near as much practice as me).

  Then he drove us to the restaurant where Dax Lahn would meet his Circe.

  I sat mostly in silence as we rode, listening with half an ear to Josette chattering and Noc interjecting every once in a while.

  I did this because I was relishing my anticipation for what was to come and tamping down my impatience that it would not come faster.

  There was nothing better than the time before your carefully laid plans played out.

  In other words, I could not wait.

  * * * * *

  I aimed my behind toward the seat as Noc held out my chair for me.

  Drinks and final explanations to Dax out of the way, my generous donation would be anonymously forwarded to First Mother House in the next week.

  We’d met Patricia, and a check Noc showed me how to write for fifty thousand dollars that I’d be presenting to her that night was in my bag.

  All seemed to be going well.

  Dax was being friendly and respectful.

  And after some circling of the savages, Noc and Dax seemed to settle in with each other.

  I wasn’t certain if Dax had worn him down and gained his trust with his manner, but Noc was no longer eyeing him with unhidden intensity. This was something that Dax, at first, seemed to take as his due (likely as he’d expect I would share the awkwardness of our first meeting with Noc and Noc would react to that). When his friendliness to Josette and myself didn’t diminish Noc’s focus, it caused Dax’s alertness to increase until the sheer maleness wafting around us felt like it might cause me to choke.

  Josette did very well at hiding it (from all but me, then again, neither man was paying much mind to Josette considering they were using so much of their own to size each other up) but I saw she found this amusing.

  I did not.

  Although it was attractive, from both men, especially Noc because I knew why he was behaving in such a way, it went on so long, it was also trying.

  Fortunately, Patricia arrived. We met her. She was lovely. Her addition to our party meant the men were forced to be outwardly civil to each other. And not long after we were told our table was ready.

  The problem was, Circe had not yet arrived and she was supposed to do just that ten minutes ago.

  I sat but tipped my head back to look up at Noc who was standing behind me with his hand on my chair.

  “I think I may need to text someone, darling,” I murmured.

  “Leave it,” he said.

  “Noc—”

  He bent toward me.

  “Circe got a crystal ball too?” he asked in a voice only I could hear.

  Oh balls.

  Would she look into it to see us, or where we were to have dinner to ascertain what she should wear (something I would do), or for any reason, therefore see Dax and decide not to come?

  “Perhaps,” I answered.

  “Then leave it,” Noc repeated. “If she figured out what you’re up to, we’ll put that fire out later. Now, I’m hungry. I want to eat. I want this night done. And I want you in that dress at my house, just you and me.”

  I pressed my lips together.

  He touched his to my jaw, straightened, pushed my chair to the table and then took his seat beside me.

  I set my purse on the table beside my place setting, noting that as Noc and I spoke Dax had helped Josette and Patricia to their seats. Now he was watching Noc and me both closely.

  When his regard finally settled only on me, he did not look alert and attuned to any action of the other alpha in his proximity.

  His look was kind and warm, clearly communicating he was pleased I had such a protector after all he’d assumed I’d suffered.

  Taking in that look, I gave him a small smile, hiding the triumph I felt inside for he was just perfect for Circe at the same time hiding a far more irritable thought.

  This being…where the bloody hell was Circe?

  “We seem to have an extra chair,” Patricia noted.

  “Yes, we do,” Josette said quickly. “I forgot to mention, we invited a friend of ours. I hope you don’t mind. We thought she, too, would be interested in the work you do.”

  Patricia smiled at Josette. “I don’t mind. I’d shout about the First Mother House from the rooftops if I could.”

  I smiled at her benignly as she spoke.

  Then I felt something. Something sudden and something fierce. It made me look away from Patricia and cut my eyes to Dax.

  When I did, I felt my insides seize.

  “Shit, fuck,” Noc muttered under his breath.

  He felt it too.

  Or saw it.

  Or both.

  Dax had been in the process of flipping open his menu.

  He was no longer in this process.

  Indeed, I didn’t think he even knew he held a menu in his hand.

  Indeed, I didn’t think he even knew he was seated at a table in an eating establishment with company.

  His eyes were locked at a point across the room.

  And his expression was…

  Well it was…

  Savage.

  I felt another tingle as I tore my gaze from him and looked across the room.

  At what I saw, I nearly crowed aloud with delight.

  Circe was wearing a champagne-colored dress with a tiered skirt made of the most extraordinary lace, an unusual embroidered bodice and very thin straps. It was delicate, chic, but flirty.

  And obviously expensive.

  Someone had been using their treasure well and it wasn’t just me.

  Her hair was down in a tousled riot of curls that fell over her shoulders and even in her face.

  Which was what she was seeing to as she moved toward our table, flipping her hair out of her eyes in a manner I’d seen several times from women espousing hair products during what Noc explained were “commercials” on the television.

  Her makeup glinted with peachy-bronze beauty.

  She was divine.

  That was, she was divine until she got her hair out of her face, started to drop her hand, looked fully at our table with a smil
e, and obviously just then noticed one particular member of our party.

  Thus she tripped.

  Badly.

  Her bag held in one hand went flying, her other hand went out to find purchase to save herself from falling and caught on a seated, elderly man’s shoulder.

  He cried out in surprise as he took some of her weight.

  Noc grunted, “Shit, fuck,” and I felt his movements.

  I looked his way to see he was pushing his chair back, preparing to go in aid of Circe.

  He was too late.

  Dax was out of his seat and charging in her direction.

  He didn’t even know she was coming in ours.

  I looked to Josette.

  She felt my regard and looked to me.

  I smiled.

  She let out a giggle.

  “Are you all right?”

  At his rumble, my attention returned to five feet away where Dax had one hand (now unnecessarily) on her waist steadying her, the other one held her clutch, which he’d clearly collected on his way.

  Circe had her head tipped back, staring up at him, wide-eyed with lips parted, taking the clutch from him and doing this like her hand was moving through molasses.

  Enchanting.

  However, in his care, Dax misinterpreted her look for he moved into her protectively, bent his neck and cast his concerned gaze down to her feet, asking, “Did you twist an ankle? Are you hurt?”

  Circe stared mutely at his profile.

  He looked again to her.

  “Do you need some ice?” he queried.

  She remained silent, staring at him.

  Then, suddenly, she appeared to get visibly woozy, her torso swaying gracefully (if a bit drunkenly) and in order not to collapse at his feet, she lifted a hand and placed it on his biceps.

  At her touch, they both froze.

  In fact, it felt like the entirety of the room froze.

  I held my breath.

  They gazed into each other’s eyes.

  Circe started swaying again.

  This time…

  Forward.

  I felt my lips curl up in what I knew was undisguised glee.

  I barely heard Dax’s next.

  But I heard it.

  “Honey,” he whispered, a teasing lilt to his deep voice, most assuredly a man who knew his effect on women, and right then most assuredly pleased he was having that effect on Circe. “You need to speak.”