by L. E. Wilson
The shoddy interior looked like every other small town watering hole. Same old red, leather booths. Same kerosene lamps along the wall. Dance floor, if you wanted to call it that, on the left, complete with a drunken couple slow dancing to a fast song. Bar straight ahead.
She proceeded that way. A drink to calm her nerves sounded like a good idea. Other than the inebriated dancers and a few stragglers, the place was fairly empty for a Friday night.
She sat down on an empty stool at the end of the bar and turned it slightly sideways so her back was to the wall and she could keep an eye on the entrance.
The bartender put down the glass he was cleaning at the other end of the bar and shuffled down to her.
“What’ll it be darlin?” His voice was as ragged as his grey hair. But his pale, blue eyes twinkled merrily. Grabbing a cloth, he sprayed the bar with disinfectant and wiped it down.
She liked him immediately.
“I’ll take a Jack and Coke, please.” She set her bag up on the clean bar and made herself comfortable.
“Strong drink for such a little girl,” he teased, giving her a contagious smile.
He was missing a tooth, right in front. She couldn’t help but smile back.
As he shuffled back down the way he had come, Emma looked around again. Upon further inspection, she saw that although the furnishings were old and the floor was beat up from all of the boots that had trod across it, the place was at least clean.
Maybe I should come hang out here sometime. Socialize and shit. She snorted and rolled her eyes at herself. Like that would ever happen.
Emma never went anywhere except work and the gym. And honestly, she was surprised she still had this job after being there a full year. Usually she didn’t last at any one place more than a few months before she’d have to quit and move on, and not always because she wanted to. She’d had some really cool jobs in the past, and had worked with some really nice people.
But, inevitably, it would happen. She’d get irritated with someone over something stupid, a stapler would fly off their desk and into a wall all by itself, and then the sideways looks and whispers would start. Her co-workers would now be afraid of her. They would stop coming by her desk for small talk. Stop inviting her for lunch.
It would be her childhood all over again.
Once, they’d even started a petition to have her fired due to “feelings of unease and inherent creepiness.”
Inherent creepiness? Emma snorted to herself again. Really?
Her regular workout routine helped though. She found if she wore herself out physically on a daily basis, the “incidents” happened much less frequently. So she jogged and went to kickboxing class, sometimes doing both in the same day. Unfortunately, she hadn’t figured this out until after Keira disappeared. What had started out as a way to help her cope with the trauma, ended up having a life changing side effect.
The bartender shuffled her way again. “Here you go, pretty lady.” His elderly hand set her drink down in front of her, without spilling a drop. “That’ll be $3.50. Wanna start a tab?”
“No, thank you. I’ll just go ahead and pay.” Emma pulled her wallet out of her bag and dug out some cash. “I’m really not much of a drinker, you know. Just needed something to calm my nerves.” She handed him a five. “Keep the change.”
“Thank you, darlin.” He turned to ring her up. “So! What brings you into our fine establishment tonight?” Propping his elbows up across the bar from her, the old man settled in for a chat. “I don’t recall seeing you in here before. Though you do look kind of familiar….”
Emma turned her stool around to face him, not wanting to be rude. Taking a sip of her drink, she revealed, “Um, I’m meeting someone here actually.”
“Mm hmm.” Slapping his hand on the bar, he concluded, “A boyfriend! I knew someone as nice and pretty as you had to be taken.” He made a sad face, but with his bushy eyebrows and sagging jowls, it was more comical than sad. “Though an old man could hope.”
Emma felt her face heat up at the compliment. “Well, he’s definitely not my boyfriend. So, you may still have a chance.” She winked at him.
“Is that right? In that case, let me buy you a drink.”
Emma laughed as he turned around, pretending to look for the bartender. She was glad for the banter; it took her mind off of her nervousness. “Actually, I don’t really know who it is I’m meeting here, other than the fact that it’s a man. Someone called me saying they had information about my sister, who’s been missing…” She dwindled off, not sure why she was sharing, other than it felt good to talk to someone.
He scrutinized her for a moment with his cloudy eyes, and then suddenly they sharpened with recognition. “You’re Emma Moss! That’s where I’ve seen you before. And it’s your older sister, Keira, who’s still missing, right?” He nodded to himself. “I remember now. I volunteered on one of the search teams.”
“You did? Oh.” She gave him a sad, grateful smile. “Well, thank you.”
“They still haven’t found any new information, huh?” At the negative shake of her head, the old man gave her a sympathetic shake of his own. “That’s a damn shame, darlin'. It really is. I’m so sorry.” He laid his gnarled hand on top of hers and gave it a slight squeeze. “My name’s Ned, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Ned,” Emma responded politely.
He gave her a small nod, then his bushy brows furrowed down. “You don’t know who this is that contacted you?”
Emma shook her head again and took another sip of her drink. “No idea. I received a phone call right as I was leaving work tonight. All he said was to meet him here at 9pm and that he had information about Keira.”
She glanced up at Ned with an imploring look, and felt the need to explain. “I had to come, see what he has to say. She’s all I have left…” She trailed off again as the door opened behind her, and she saw the kindly bartender squint suspiciously at the newcomer.
Glancing back over her shoulder to see who it was, she felt her breath leave her lungs in a whoosh!
Good God. Who was that?
The male who’d just entered was every bad girl’s dream, and probably the good one’s too. She could practically feel her panties hit the floor just from looking at him.
Gauging him to be a little over six feet tall, he had dirty blonde hair that fell just past the top of his shoulders, with choppy pieces that gave it a careless appearance. Piercing blue eyes glowed—almost eerily—with a life of their own as he slowly perused the room. Clean-shaven, his slightly squared jaw was strong and confident. Sculpted cheekbones and a perfectly proportioned nose finished off one of the best-looking faces she’d ever seen on a guy.
Like, seriously. He put the fashion magazine models to shame. Dressed in dark jeans, combat boots, and a long-sleeved black knit shirt—that did absolutely nothing to hide the lean, muscular body underneath—he was the most virile man Emma had ever seen.
Yet, in spite of his Hollywood pretty boy looks, he had a predatory air of danger around him. It surrounded him like a physical substance, permeating the room as he stood casually just inside the door. Even the drunks on the dance floor sensed it, staggering as far away from him as they could get. This guy was trouble. With a capitol “T”.
Emma was still staring in awe when his gaze swung her way, locking on to her and not letting go. She inhaled sharply as those eyes roved over her face, then her neck, and down to her breasts, lingering there for a few seconds.
A hot surge of desire tightened low in her stomach, surprising her, and she felt a rush of moisture as her innermost muscles clenched in response.
Lifting slowly back up to her face, his gaze burned right through her for a long moment, like he was imagining her naked and knew she’d enjoy it.
Whoa.
He closed his eyes then, and she watched him lift his nose and inhale deeply like he was scenting something, or someone, as an animal would scent their prey. The corners of his perfectly beautiful
lips lifted slightly as he pierced her with those eyes again. He smirked at her knowingly.
That smirk was like a slap in the face. What the hell was the matter with her? Emma gave herself an internal shake. A good-looking guy walks in and she reacts like a hormone-laden teenager, when she should be worrying about the meeting about her sister.
She glared at the stranger. Thank God he’s not the informant. He’s not supposed to be here until 9pm, and it was only—
Emma jumped down from her stool and straightened her spine as the Greek god started walking—no, prowling—directly toward her. As he got closer, she took a deep, bracing breath and steeled her spine even more, determined not to let him affect her. He didn’t stop until he was so close, she could feel the heat from his body.
“Hello, Emma.”
Chapter 5
Nik arrived at the local dive a little early for his appointment with Emma. Since it wasn’t a personal residence, no invitation was needed, and he entered without any trouble. Pausing just over the threshold, he checked the place out, memorizing where the exits were out of habit. It wasn’t hard. There were only two.
He wasn’t surprised at the lack of a Friday night crowd. Places like this catered to regular customers who lived in the area. No one else would drive so far out of the way to get to such a small-town dive. It was one reason he had told Emma to meet him here. Without the crowd, they’d be able to talk.
Emma sat at the end of the bar. He let his eyes wander over her face and down to what he could see of her body. She was stunning in a simple sweater and jeans. Her hair fell in natural waves just to her shoulders, and his fingers itched to touch the bright strands, to see if they were as soft as they looked. Her cheeks were slightly flushed as she stared at him, wide-eyed. Her lips were slightly parted, her breathing shallow.
He imagined her looking at him like that as she lay naked and open beneath him, gasping as he pumped into her hot little body. His eyes narrowed at the wayward thought, and he felt his cock instantly respond.
As if she knew what he was thinking, her face reddened even more and he had to close his eyes a moment as he scented her body’s response from across the room. He couldn’t help it then. He smirked at her, and saw her wide-eyed look change to a glare in response.
Was she angry at him, or at her body’s reaction to him?
Nik allowed himself a moment more to enjoy pondering that question, before reminding himself of the purpose of this meeting. The thought sobered him instantly. He headed toward Emma, and she jumped down from her stool to stand ramrod straight at his approach.
He didn’t stop until there was less than a foot between their bodies, forcing her to look up at him as he loomed over her. She barely came to his chin; her slender form less than half his size.
His heart actually stuttered as his eyes roved over her face. Good Lord, she was lovely. So close to her, her scent nearly overwhelmed him, and it was all he could do not to scoop her up and take her with him, caveman style, back to his lair.
“Hello, Emma.”
His voice was bedroom sexy. Way better in person. Or maybe she’d just been too shocked to notice when they’d talked on the phone for that brief time. Just listening to him say her name caused some very unladylike thoughts to jump, unbidden, into her head: thoughts of popping buttons and tearing lace, and bare skin sliding on bare skin.
She didn’t even wear lace.
Emma stared at him until, giving herself a shake, she pulled her thoughts back into the here and now. Jesus, what was wrong with her? She’d never been this affected by a man, not even extremely good-looking ones.
Annoyed with herself, she stuck her chin out and demanded, “Who the hell are you, and what exactly do you know about my sister?”
He looked amused, if a bit surprised, with her directness. “Well, now, don’t beat around the bush, sweetheart. Just go ahead and say whatever’s on your mind.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, but her insides quivered as she waited for a response to her question.
After a glance at the bartender who was still hovering around them, he suggested, “Why don’t we go find somewhere a bit more private to talk.” It wasn’t a question.
Emma studied his too-perfect face for a few seconds, then nodded once in agreement. Turning to grab her things, she gave old Ned a reassuring smile.
He took her hand as she placed it on her bag. “Darlin’, you just give a yell if you need anything at all.” He looked directly into her eyes while he spoke, making sure he got his point across. “And you just let me know when you’re ready to leave. Alone.” He gave the man beside her a pointed glare. “And I’ll walk you to your car.”
Men were always offering to walk her to her car. Did she really seem that helpless?
The beautiful male beside her tilted his head and looked at Ned with mild curiosity, like he would an animal at the zoo. “Do we owe you anything for the drink, old man?” he asked.
Ned shook his grey head slowly, staring him down. “The young lady has already paid.”
Emma looked over at the newcomer just in time to catch him giving the elderly man a menacing smile.
“I’ll be fine.” She didn’t know if that was true or not, but the elderly bartender was no match for a guy like this, and she wouldn’t have him risking life and limb because of her.
A strong hand wrapped gently, but firmly, around her arm. “Good! Come on, Emma.”
Giving the bartender a last reassuring smile, she let the Greek god steer her toward an empty booth far from listening ears.
He led her to her seat, and then settled himself across from her where he kept one eye on the kindly bartender. “Would you like another drink, Emma?”
“No, thank you.” She waited expectantly.
“A bite to eat? Are you hungry?”
Her nerves strung out as it was from the near confrontation at the bar, she leaned forward, got right up into his face, and slammed her hands on the table. “No! I don’t want a drink! I don’t want food! The only thing I want is to know is where the hell my sister is!”
Emma wondered where her sense of self-preservation was, but her patience with this was at an end. If he had some information for her, she wanted it now.
“Calm down,” he told her. “And I’ll tell you everything I know.”
Sitting back in a huff, Emma crossed her arms and waited for him to speak, idly wondering where her sanity had gone.
He leaned forward. “Emma, do you have any inkling of who or what you are?”
What is he talking about? “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what you are. What your sister is. What your parents were. And, more specifically, who they were?” He put his elbows on the table and linked his hands, drilling into her with those eyes, until she felt like he could see right down to her soul.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean…” Emma hedged, genuinely confused.
He continued to stare at her, his head tilted to the side, like he was listening to something she couldn’t hear. After a moment, he seemed to come to some type of decision. “Emma, you come from a family of very powerful witches.”
Well, that wasn’t exactly what she’d expected to hear. “Witches,” she repeated blandly.
“Yes,” he affirmed with a nod.
Was this guy for real? If her family was full of witches, don’t you think she would know?
She should’ve star sixty-nine’d him earlier, demanded more information before agreeing to meet him. Not that he had given her a choice. Clearly, he wasn’t a cop or any kind of detective. Mentally unstable was probably more like it.
“I am so, so stupid,” she finally admitted. Disgusted with herself for falling for…whatever the hell this was, she grabbed her bag and stood to leave.
“Where are you going?” he demanded.
“I’m leaving. Obviously,” she spat back at him.
“Emma, please. Sit down and hear me out.” He held up a hand, halting her. “Please.”
&n
bsp; She paused next to the table. I don’t know why the hell I’m doing this. “Fine. But I don’t want to hear about whatever it is you think you know about my family. I want to know who you are. And I want to know what you know about the whereabouts of my sister.”
“I promise I will tell you all of that, but in order for you to fully understand, I need to give you some background about my people, and about your family, that you are apparently unaware of.” He waved his hand at her seat. “Please, Emma, sit down. As much as I hate to admit it, I need your help, and you need mine.”
His tone sounded so sincere, it gave her pause. Slowly, she went back to her seat and sat down again, giving him a hard look. “Just so you know, giving me the sad puppy dog eyes will get you nowhere with me.”
His lips twitched. “Duly noted.”
“Ok, wiseass, tell me about all this stuff I presumably don’t know about. I’m listening.” Crossing her arms again, she leaned back and waited for him to speak.
“Let me start over.” He paused. “Emma, have you ever noticed any strange things that happen around you?” Another pause. “It’s okay, you can trust me.”
Surely, her expression alone clearly showed how much she disagreed with that comment, but just in case it didn’t, she spelled it out for him. “What makes you think I would trust you with anything at all? I know absolutely nothing about you. I don’t even know your name! Although you seem to know quite a bit about me. Or at least you think you do.”
Emma had spent her entire life safeguarding her secrets from everyone except her immediate family; she was not about to give them up that easily. She didn’t care how hot he was.
Or how lonely she was.
He ran a hand through his hair and started over again. He seemed to know he was totally blowing this. “I’m sorry, you’re completely right. My name is Nik, or actually, Nikulas. Nikulas Kreek.” He held out his hand.
She regarded that hand warily for a moment, and then hesitantly placed her hand inside his much larger one. He closed his fingers firmly around hers.