Dark Queen’s Quest

by I. T. Lucas

  But maybe she’d been setting her expectations too low?

  After her last boyfriend, she’d been willing to settle for someone she could count on not to cheat on her or lie to her.

  She was just lonely, that’s all. And Yamanu probably wasn’t all that she’d imagined.

  His strange and beautiful eyes were probably not natural, the effect most likely created by contact lenses. No one other than maybe albinos had eyes that shade.

  Except, those strange eyes matched his hypnotic voice, and she’d stood so close to him that she would have noticed the tell-tale rim of contacts. There had been none.

  For a brief moment, Mey allowed herself the girly fantasy of being taken care of, protected, and loved by this man.

  “I promise to call.” Arielle’s voice pulled Mey back to reality.

  Did she imagine it or had the woman’s American accent improved significantly over the course of their conversation?

  “I’m sure I can learn a lot from you,” Arielle continued. “I’m new not only to the agency but also to the country. I’m from Slovenia.” She cast her boyfriend a loving glance. “Arwel convinced me to come to the United States. He said that I’m wasting my talent on Europe.”

  The heavy Slavic accent was back, and Mey figured she’d imagined the improvement before.

  “The United States is the biggest market by far, and this agency is one of the best. Your business manager has chosen wisely for you.” She cast a sidelong glance at Yamanu.

  Mey wished to draw him back into the conversation, but he didn’t pick it up. Instead, he was watching her with unnerving intensity.

  “Yes, I agree. And please, call me Ari.”

  “Ari it is.” To avoid getting mesmerized by Yamanu’s hypnotic gaze, Mey looked at Dalia’s closed door. “Does she have someone in there?”

  Arielle’s boyfriend shook his head. “She’s on the phone.”

  “Do you mind if I go ahead of you? I just need to ask her a quick question.”

  “Go ahead,” Arielle said. “We are not in a hurry.”

  Again, her accent had changed, this time sounding more American.

  Maybe she wasn’t really from Slovenia and was just pretending. A good background story could add to a model’s allure.

  As Dalia’s door opened and she stepped out into the waiting room, Arielle and her companions got up.

  The dragon lady was all smiles for Ari and her friends. “Welcome to the Carmichael agency.” She offered Ari her perfectly manicured hand. “You are even more beautiful in person.” She turned to Yamanu, gave him a once-over, and then did the same for Arwel. “I could use two gorgeous male models like you. Are you available? Because if you are, you’re hired.”

  Yamanu chuckled as he took her hand and brought it up to his lips for a kiss. “I appreciate the offer, but my modeling days are over. I’m here strictly as Arielle’s business manager.”

  “And I’m just the boyfriend and bodyguard.” Arwel offered Dalia his hand.

  “May I have a quick word with you?” Mey interjected. “I asked Ari’s permission to steal a couple of minutes of your time.”

  Dalia started to shake her head, but Arielle put a hand on her forearm. “We are probably going to take a long time, and Mey only has a quick question. I don’t mind waiting a little longer.”

  Dalia nodded. “That's very kind of you.” She motioned for Mey to follow her into the office.

  “That was unprofessional,” Dalia said as soon as Mey closed the door behind her. “You could have texted me or waited for after the interview.”

  “It’s really a quick question. Can I take the rest of the week off?”

  “No, you can’t.” Dalia lifted a stack of photographs from Mey’s last photo shoot. “I just got off the phone with the client, and he’s not happy with these. He’s sending over a different set of outfits that he wants you to wear, and he wants street shots.”

  Damn. Clients could be so demanding. “But we did exactly what he wanted.”

  “I know. He changed his mind, and he wants it done as soon as possible. He’s paying us extra to redo the shoot.”

  Great. Some customers were just a pain in the butt like that. But what choice did she have? To refuse would cost her job.

  “When will the outfits get here?

  “He said either later today or tomorrow morning, but I doubt he can have everything ready so quickly. In any case, be ready to start shooting tomorrow.”

  “Once this is done, can I take a few days off?”

  Dalia opened her scheduling software. “I’ve already given your next assignment to someone else. And the one after that is two weeks away. If you wrap up this one in one week, you can have the next one off.”

  That was probably better. Maybe a new clue would come up over the next several days, and she would actually know where to start her search.

  "Awesome. Thanks, Dalia.”

  “Make sure he is happy this time.” Her boss lifted the photos again. “I didn’t tell him so, but this wasn’t your best work. The spark is missing, and the mischief in your eyes and the secretive smile that clients love so much are not there either. If they wanted just any pretty face, they wouldn’t have chosen you.”

  Dalia was right. First it had been the breakup with Oliver, and then the concern about Jin. No wonder the spark was missing.

  Mey nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

  “On your way out, tell Arielle and her companions that they can come in.”

  As Mey stepped out into the reception room, she fell straight into Yamanu’s gaze. Had he been watching the door the entire time?

  “Thank you so much for letting me go in ahead of you. Dalia is ready for you.”

  Arielle rose to her feet. “Thanks.” She smoothed her hand over her short skirt and reached into her purse. “I thought that it was rude of me not to give you my phone number as well.” She pulled out a business card. “Call me when you have some free time. We can grab a coffee or something to eat.” She smiled. “And I really mean it. It’s not the let’s-do-lunch thing. I’m new in town and I could use a girlfriend.”

  Mey took the card and put it in her back pocket. “Thank you. I’m doing an outdoor shoot tomorrow, so I’ll probably be free as soon as the sun sets.”

  12

  Yamanu

  On the way back to the hotel, Yamanu left Alena and Arwel to sit in the back of the limo, while he joined Ewan up front.

  The two had been smirking knowingly and exchanging glances like a couple of high schoolers, and he had no intention of subjecting himself to their teasing.

  That was the trouble with immortals. He could hide his reactions from humans, but not from them. Normally, that wasn’t a problem. His meditation and herbal remedies kept him going on neutral, but they hadn’t been enough to stifle his attraction to Mey.

  “How did it go?” Ewan eased the limo into the traffic.

  “Easy.” Yamanu crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn’t even have to put much pressure on the lady. She loved Alena, or rather Arielle, and the glowing recommendation from Brandon’s contact helped a lot. Provided that the client agrees, Alena is going to be the face of Ravishing, a luxury cosmetics line from Korea that they are trying to promote in the States. Tomorrow, we're meeting with the photographer for the first test run, and we will have an answer by the end of the week.”

  “What if the client doesn't like Alena’s look?”

  “Dalia said that she’s exactly what they were looking for.”

  Ewan cast him a sidelong glance. “How is it going to work with the makeup? Alena already wears plenty to look like Areana. Are they going to add the new stuff on top?”

  “I told Dalia that we come with our own makeup artist and hair stylist. aka Eva.” He chuckled. “That was the toughest thing for her to accept. I had to push hard past her resistance. She’s not an easy lady to thrall.”

  “You’re lucky she is not immune.”

  “If she was, we would have been fo
rced to seek another agency, and that would have been a mess. It’s good that not many humans are immune.”

  As they got back to their suite, Alena sighed. “I’m going to shower and take this gunk off. Can you guys order dinner? I’m starving.”

  Arwel headed for the mini bar. “Take a look at the room service menu before you get in the shower and let me know what you want.” He opened the leather-bound folder. “In the meantime, I need to do some self-medicating.” He pulled out a small bottle of Jack Daniels. “Ragnar must be kidding. What’s that? A sample?”

  Alena flipped through the offerings. “The roasted chicken with spring potatoes sounds good.” She smiled at Arwel. “And you can order yourself a nice big bottle of whiskey, or I can ask Ovidu to get you some from a liquor store.”

  “I’m sure Ragnar can hook me up.” Arwel emptied the little bottle down his throat and reached for another one.

  Yamanu took the folder and quickly scanned the menu. “Get me the New York steak. You know how I like it.”

  Arwel emptied the second bottle and tossed it in the trash. “Where are you going?”

  “To my room. I need to meditate.”

  Arwel snorted. “I bet.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  The way Yamanu had explained his meditative routine was that channeling his inner energies into his powerful thralling and shrouding ability required two hours of daily meditation. He hadn't explained the other purpose it served.

  Except, Arwel was a smart guy, and he must’ve figured it out. Good for him, but he wasn’t going to get a confirmation.

  Plausible deniability was the name of the game.

  “Nothing. Just go do your thing. Do you want me to call you when the food gets here?”

  “I’ll come out when I’m done.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  As Yamanu ducked into his room, he heard the suite’s front door open, and then he had to listen to Eva and Bhathian asking Arwel a bunch of questions.

  Regrettably, the hotel wasn’t built for immortals, and the walls and doors had standard soundproofing, which meant that in order to meditate, he would have to put on his noise-canceling headphones.

  By the time Yamanu was done, dinner had been delivered and eaten, and everyone was gathered in the living room.

  Arwel looked wasted.

  Apparently, Ragnar had sent up a proper supply of booze for him.

  “Let me warm up your dinner, master.” Ovidu rushed over to the dining table and grabbed the plate before Yamanu had the chance to take a bite. “It will only be a minute.”

  “Don’t dry out my steak.”

  “I won’t, master.”

  Bossy butler.

  After spending time with Okidu, Yamanu had started paying attention to the small differences between the Odus. At first glance, they looked identical, but they weren't, and it wasn’t only physical. They seemed to have slightly different personalities as well. Perhaps their masters had some influence on the way they acted.

  Machine learning and all that.

  “How was your meditation?” Arwel slurred.

  “Good. Very relaxing.” Yamanu glanced at the half-empty whiskey bottle in Arwel’s hand. “I see that Ragnar hooked you up."

  Arwel shrugged. “We each medicate ourselves in our own way. I drown the bombardment of human emotions in alcohol, and you suppress your sex drive with meditation.”

  The room fell silent, like in no one breathing kind of silence.

  The only one making any sound was little Ethan. Slapping his father’s face with his chubby little hands, he was cooing happily.

  Denial and redirection or avoidance and redirection were the best strategies in a situation like that. His sex life was nobody's business.

  “Instead of drowning in booze, you should go down to the basement and spend time with your accountant. Why are you still here?”

  Arwel grimaced. “The other time the hotel was new and there were no guests on the lower floors. That’s why it was quiet and peaceful in the basement. Now the place is full, and it’s almost as bad down there as it is up here.” He took another swig from his bottle. “I need a bunker, or a little house on the prairie.”

  “Here you are, master.” Ovidu placed the heated plate on the dining table.

  “Thank you.” Yamanu sat down and draped a napkin over his pants. “Or the space station. Imagine how quiet it is up there.”

  Eva laughed. “Guardians in space. It’s a good book title.”

  That started the conversation going again, and Yamanu let out a relieved breath.

  People suspected that he was celibate, but even though they were curious, they had the decency not to ask questions.

  Which was the way Yamanu liked it.

  His reasons were his own, and the last thing he wanted was for his sex life or lack thereof to become a topic of conversation. As long as his clan members had nothing more than speculation to go on, there was not much to talk about.

  Arwel, however, should not have let his mouth flap like that, especially not in front of other people, and Yamanu planned to have a talk with his roomie. Drunkenness was not an excuse, and if Arwel couldn’t control himself while boozing, he needed to find a different medicine to numb his pain.

  Just to mess with the dude, Yamanu was going to offer to teach him his relaxation meditative rituals.

  13

  Mey

  Mey put a kettle on the stove and sat down at the kitchen table with a French fashion magazine that she’d picked up on the way home.

  When her cell phone rang, she hoped it wasn’t Dalia telling her that the new outfits for tomorrow’s shoot were in. It was after six in the evening, and Mey was in no mood to schlep to the agency to pick them up.

  What if she let it go to voicemail?

  Maybe at another time she would have, but she was too antsy with worry about Jin to ignore the ringing.

  Snatching it off the charger, she looked at the screen and grimaced. “Hi, Dalia. Are you still in the office?”

  “Where else would I be? My workday doesn't start at nine and end at five. Being your own boss is the best and worst at the same time. Anyway, I called to tell you that the wardrobe is here and I’m ordering a delivery service to get it to you. Are you going to be home for the next couple of hours?”

  “Yes, and thank you. I really wasn’t looking forward to dragging myself over there this late.”

  “I wouldn’t have asked you to do that. A beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be alone on the streets after dark, and it would have been dark out by the time you headed back.”

  Mey chuckled. “I’m touched by the concern. But you shouldn’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

  “That’s why I worry. You think that the self-defense class you took is going to do you any good when someone holds you at knifepoint?”

  The answer to that was yes, but Mey couldn’t tell Dalia that her self-defense skills hadn’t been acquired in a class for suburban ladies. She’d gotten the best training in the world. But the truth was that it had been a while, and she might be a little rusty.

  “You’re right. But you shouldn't worry. I don’t go out much, and when I do, I take a taxi.”

  “Good. And don’t use any of those Uber or LYFT services. I tried it once and the driver was so creepy that I spent the entire ride praying that he would deliver me to my destination in one piece.”

  Mey stifled a snort. Evidently, the feared and revered dragon lady was a little paranoid.

  “Yes, ma'am. Where and when do we shoot tomorrow?”

  “Derek is going to pick you up with the van at six in the morning. You’re shooting on Fifth Avenue.”

  “Got it. Thanks, Dalia.”

  That was the thing about street photography. It required early morning starts.

  When the kettle whistled, Mey took it off the burner and put it aside. “Who wants tea?” she yelled in the direction of the bedrooms.

  Tatiana poked her hea
d out the door. “I want chamomile.”

  “Hibiscus for me,” Valerie yelled back.

  “Not for me.” Josephine padded into the kitchen wearing only panties. “I could use some coffee.” She pulled out a jar of instant.

  “Are you all packed?” Mey asked.

  “I’m waiting for the laundry to be done.” Josephine put a spoonful of Taster’s Choice into a mug and mixed it with water from the kettle. “Are you going to be okay here on your own?”

  “Of course. But I’m so jealous of you three. You are going to have so much fun shooting on the beach in Hawaii.”

  Josephine shrugged. “You could’ve asked Dalia if you could go with us.”

  “I couldn’t. I was booked, remember?”

  “Well, there is always the next time.”

  That was true, and besides, Mey couldn’t have gone with them. First of all because she needed to find out what was going on with Jin. And secondly because she had every intention of giving Arielle a call and inviting herself over. She just had to see Yamanu again.

  “What’s that mysterious smile about?” Tatiana asked as she walked in.

  “A guy.”

  “Did I hear ‘a guy’?” Valerie rushed into the kitchen. “Details, girl.” She grabbed her mug off the counter and sat at the table.

  “About time,” Tatiana said. “You’ve been moping about Oliver for long enough.”

  Mey crossed her arms over her chest. “I wasn’t moping. I was fuming.”

  “Whatever.” Valerie lifted one shoulder in a dismissive shrug. “You were anti men. Tell us about this new guy.”

  “There isn’t much to tell. He’s the business manager of a new model that Dalia was interviewing this morning. We talked a little, I offered the new girl my help to get settled, and we exchanged phone numbers. That’s all.”

  Tatiana rolled her eyes. “What’s his name? What does he look like? What did he say to you? Come on, give us something.”

  “His name is Yamanu, and he is about six feet eight inches of perfection.”