The Darkness of Sable

by Faith Bicknell

  “Then inform The Golden so she’s prepared.”

  “She already knows. She’s the one who warned the Judges. I was sent to inform you the beings after her are not only old, but quite ancient.” The faerie lowered her eyelids demurely and stepped closer to Thomas. “However, no one can determine who or what the force is. The Paranorm will be there to help you guard Sable.”

  “Tell the Judges that Officer Rick Delmont, their Paranorm, is nothing but trouble. I don’t know what he is yet, but it’s obvious he’s more interested in satisfying his libido than protecting her. Such Paranorms cause nothing but upset and chaos.”

  “You know how it is in the Old World,” she said. “We enjoy all things, especially carnal delights.” The Asrai reached out to touch Thomas’s bare chest, but he jerked away and pressed against the shower door. “I was also sent to comfort you.” She pouted and blinked large, liquid-blue eyes. “I can give you much pleasure and help ease your concerns.” Her voice caressed him. “And assuage desires that you cannot quench with the human woman.”

  “That’s the trouble with you water faeries,” Thomas growled. “You don’t understand that humans think differently than Paranorms do.” What pissed him off even more was the fact that her words made him realize that he did want Sable. He wanted her in his life, in his arms, and in his bed. He struggled to contain his anger with himself and toward the faerie for her meaningless seduction. “I don’t want your kisses, seductive Asrai, and I choose to keep my feelings and thoughts instead of allowing them to be twisted into submission.”

  She smiled, but the longer she smiled at Thomas, the more it transformed into a snarl. The glamour fell away from her beautiful body, and in its place stood a black, smoky creature. Fangs filled its mouth, and violet eyes glowed with neon-green flames in their centers.

  “Stupid marshal,” it hissed. “Sable is ours. Stand in our way, and you will die.”

  “Be gone!” Thomas snapped, praying the creature didn’t attack. He placed his palm on the shower door. The glass dissolved into liquid, leaving an oval hole about a foot long and two inches wide. The fluid flowed into Thomas’s hand to form a clear, shiny dagger.

  “You have been warned.” For an instant, the nightmare eyed Thomas’s weapon then it flicked its snake-like, black tongue out and caressed its own breasts with it. “Paranorm marshals are a delicacy.”

  With that, the beast burst into a cloud of inky ash and twirled into a thin ribbon that oozed through the crack in the bathroom window and out into the world.

  “Son of a bitch!” Thomas brushed soot from his still-damp body.

  Fuming, and with anxiety screaming throughout his nervous system, he dropped the towel and entered the shower again. He placed the glass dagger on the soap-and-shampoo shelf. Water droplets bounced off his body and found their way through the hole he’d created in the door.

  He sighed as he studied the opening. Although one of his powers allowed him to create weapons out of whatever was necessary such as the dagger, he didn’t have the ability to return things to their original forms.

  “Hotel management is going to have a fit over that door,” he mumbled.

  His worries turned to Sable, filling his heart with dread. How was he going to protect her twenty-four seven without her realizing something was wrong? More importantly, how did he disguise his desire for her?

  In the bathroom, Sable stood in front of the wall mirror. The dress she’d purchased for the event was perfect. The one-inch heels of the delicate gold sandals she’d bought to complement the garment peeked from beneath the hem. A slit up the right side of the dress sliced to her upper thigh. The chic halter and vee neck accentuated her bosom so it looked fuller. The gold material flowed around her yet molded to her body in all the right places.

  Lucretia had done an excellent job with her hair, sweeping most of it up in an old but very becoming Grecian style and curling long locks of it to fall to her ankles in thick ringlets that had been hair sprayed into perfection. Upon seeing the dress, the woman had clicked her tongue, nodding in approval, and said, “Whoever is escorting you tonight is going to be one horny guy by the time he takes you home. That dress is to die for.”

  “Sable?” Thomas called.

  “I’ll be right there!” Sable reapplied her peach-tinted lip gloss and tossed the tube on the makeup counter.

  She stepped out of the bathroom to find Thomas standing next to the sofa. “You’re early,” she said, eyeing his black Armani suit and the brilliant sapphire-blue shirt beneath it for contrast. A shiny black tie with deep-blue pinstripes complemented both garments. Thomas had switched his diamond stud earrings for sapphires.

  Desire pooled in her lower belly, leaving her disconcerted and anxious. “You look very handsome.”

  He swept her body with his gaze as she strode toward him. A pained expression crossed his face, but it vanished. Appreciation replaced it. “You look amazing,” he said, voice low.

  Slowly, she turned around in a full circle, arms out so the dress could sway with her. “I feel amazing tonight,” she said.

  Sable crossed the remaining distance between them. Even with her low-heeled sandals, he was still a couple of inches taller than her. The spice-and-citrus cologne he wore for special occasions, her favorite scent of all his expensive brands, teased her senses. His eyes darkened, and a bright, enticing light danced in their inky depths.

  “I apologize for earlier today,” he said. “When you called my cell and said that… Well, when something scares me, it pisses me off. I shouldn’t have taken my fear out on you.”

  Relief crashed into her almost as hard as the car had that afternoon. “It’s okay, Thomas. I’m relieved that I didn’t do something that—”

  He took her by her upper arms and pulled her close, tucking her head against his right shoulder. “You scared me to death today.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry.”

  The aroma of Thomas’s own personal scent mixed with his cologne prompted her pulse to pound harder. Heat radiated from him, a soothing balm to her body and her mind, as if she’d found a warm, comfortable spot in the sunshine. She sighed and snuggled closer.

  “I’m so glad you’re not mad at me,” she said.

  “Sable, I…”

  She pushed back and met his gaze. The intensity of it took her breath away. With her hands flat on his chest, the rhythm of his heart sent shockwaves into her palms that traveled up her arms then down her torso, straight to her panties. Sable gulped. The sensations coursing through her left her confused and rendered her speechless. Her heart rate sped up to match Thomas’s. Flustered, she tried to move away, but he drew her close again, tucking her head into the crook of his neck.

  “I’m sorry, baby girl,” he rumbled in her ear. “I’m sorry I took my fear and upset out on you.”

  The deep bass of his voice and the way it vibrated her cheek where it rested sent shivers to her core. She swallowed hard again and said, “It’s okay, T-Thomas.”

  He stroked one hand down her back where he let it rest at the top of her ass. “What’s wrong?”

  “N-nothing.” She shut her eyes and, for just a moment, turned lax in his arms, relishing the divine tingles and electricity that zipped back and forth between them.

  I bet he’s spectacular in bed. She allowed him to draw her tighter, molding their bodies together. Mmm…a man has never made me feel like this…

  Her eyes snapped open. No, this wasn’t right. Thomas was her agent and her friend. Feelings like this were dangerous and always led to disaster. She had to keep their business as business and their friendship as friendship. Nothing else, no matter how enticing it might seem at the moment, was permitted—ever.

  I have to avoid complications so I can concentrate on finding Cheyenne.

  The aroma of Thomas’s cologne filled her senses, intoxicating her, wooing her to succumb to her desires. His hand still rested at the small of her back. He then smoothed his palm upward and over her side. She inhaled sharply
and willed the heat pooling in her abdomen to go away.

  I shouldn’t be feeling this way! It has to be loneliness. Yes, that’s all it is.

  Regardless, she remained in his arms for several minutes as he stroked her back, and she reveled in the attention. The comfort she felt in Thomas’s arms calmed her inner turmoil and quieted the misgivings about the day’s uncanny events, but the fire he stoked in her pussy with just a simple touch would prove disastrous if she didn’t move apart from him soon.

  She pushed away slightly and raised her head to look at him. “Thomas, I don’t think…”

  Need swirled in his eyes, a desire for her that shocked her so badly she couldn’t remember what she was going to say. Transfixed, she watched his mouth descended upon hers. His lips made contact, the sensation warm, firm, and demanding. Sable reveled in how he tasted of mint and his own distinct flavor that urged her to press her breasts to his firm chest, her nipples hardening through the filmy material of her dress

  God, help me! I want him to…

  Delight tiptoed through Sable. She succumbed to his kiss and parted her lips. Thomas’s tongue entered her mouth, and moaning, Sable moved closer to him, snaking her arms around his neck.

  Thomas slid his hands down her back and cupped her ass. He tugged her hips tightly to his.

  Another gasp burst from her at his hard eagerness obvious through the front of her dress. She skimmed her hands down his arms and then to his slacks where her fingers found the zipper and button. It would be so easy to just unbutton his pants and let him…let him…NO! What am I thinking? She moaned, torn between the hot, molten sensation whizzing along the highways of her nervous system and the logic telling her to step back before she did something they’d both regret.

  He broke the kiss and trailed kisses to her ear. “You scared me silly today,” he said.

  She whimpered as he seized her earlobe. “I just didn’t think of anything else except reaching my daughter before she vanished again.”

  Her words fell over her like a bucket of ice water. Her gaze flew up to meet Thomas’s. She pushed back from him and turned away.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. It was wrong.”

  “No, it’s okay. We both just needed…”

  “Comfort and reassurance.”

  “Yeah, that’s it,” she replied breathlessly.

  If only she could slow her heart rate. Blood pounded through her body, but the pulsing in her most intimate regions left her weak and so needy she almost gave up and flung herself into Thomas’s arms again.

  Desire spun within Sable until it grew into a whirlwind of fire that nearly consumed her. In the six years she’d known him, he’d never kissed her other than a chaste peck on the forehead or cheek. It was obvious he wanted her, and her reaction to him shocked her, but it was oh-so delicious. What would he do if she offered herself to him?

  Heaven help me, his kisses could detonate a nun’s habit! What if I propel him toward my bed and…

  Shame settled over her. Thomas was her agent and friend. She had to keep telling herself that. Succumbing to loneliness and the need for sex would only destroy their hard work over the last six years.

  She sighed, and with a pang of regret, strode across the suite on shaky legs. “We better get going or we’ll be late,” she said and picked up her clutch from the coffee table.

  “Uh, yeah.” He cleared his throat and straightened his shirt and tie. Walking to the door, he opened it and waited for her there. “Tonight is going to be hectic and full of excitement.”

  She nodded but couldn’t meet his gaze. She passed him and stepped out into the hall.

  Chapter Eight

  Vibes

  T he art gallery hosting The Golden’s showing was a fifteen-minute ride from the hotel. Sable accepted a glass of champagne that Thomas poured for her. Her thoughts kept returning to their passionate embrace in her suite, inspiring a tingling heat in her groin each time. She’d always felt an attraction to Thomas, but until lately, she hadn’t really pondered it. It wasn’t uncommon for a man or woman to experience chemistry with each other. That was how sexual attraction worked. But Thomas wasn’t just an acquaintance or a handsome fellow she passed on the street.

  Thomas was…

  Shocked, Sable shifted and stared at him. She blinked, frowning. When had their relationship changed? A tremor of uncertainty mixed with excitement rippled in her heart. Could they actually try—no! Getting involved would only wreck their camaraderie and destroy their business relationship, too.

  Besides, I must concentrate on finding Cheyenne and come up with my new line of sculptures. I don’t need any distractions.

  Passing streetlights wavered through the car’s seating area. Thomas squinted against an especially bright light emanating from a liquor store on a corner then he turned to Sable.

  She gulped. But he’s so damn sexy. An image of his ripped abs flashed through her mind. Heat assailed her crotch, and she quickly crossed her legs.

  “A toast,” he said, holding his wine flute up.

  “To what?” she asked.

  “To finding Cheyenne’s whereabouts and to your newly inspired muse,” he replied.

  She smiled and clinked her glass against his.

  Moments later, the chauffeur announced, “The Ocean Sunset Art Gallery, Mr. Valimar.”

  The limo pulled up on the carport. The chauffeur opened the door and helped Sable out. The laughter of wealthy, prestigious people wafted through the open doors and out into the street. Sable glimpsed a few waiters and waitresses wandering about with trays of finger food and champagne amongst well-dressed guests.

  Thomas slipped her hand over his forearm. “Shall we?”

  She nodded and allowed him to escort her into the foyer where he passed VIP tickets to an attendant.

  The Golden’s paintings remained covered in a roped-off area. Thomas squeezed Sable’s hand and excused himself to talk to a former client. Sable stood alone, relieved she had a minute away from professional acquaintances and famous-artist wannabes. In the background, the faint strains of an unidentifiable orchestral piece trickled from an invisible audio system.

  To the right of the room, a young woman of about twenty, her hair as yellow as new gold, moved from person to person and group to group. A frail-looking elderly woman always stood within a couple feet of her. Guests milled around them, their chatter excited, faces animated.

  A man in a tux glanced Sable’s way, leaned over, and whispered to his female companion. A murmur swept the crowd, and heads turned in Sable’s direction.

  Guests began surrounding her.

  “Sable Hendricks-Tade,” a man in his mid-forties called. He elbowed through the young aspiring artists encircling her. “Is it true that you were in an accident today?” He pulled a notebook from the inside pocket of his jacket. “Rumor has it that you ran out into traffic.”

  Warmth grasped her elbow, and she glanced over into Thomas’s concerned face. “Are you okay?”

  “Are you Thomas Valimar, her agent?” the reporter pressed.

  “This gentleman,” Sable said to Thomas, “was just asking me about what happened today.”

  Thomas looked pointedly at the reporter. “No comment,” he said.

  She tugged on Thomas’s arm. He leaned toward her. “Should I tell them about Cheyenne?” she whispered.

  His gaze swept the press that had encompassed them. He inclined his head until his lips brushed Sable’s ear, sending gooseflesh rippling over her arms. The memory of his touch forced her to gulp hard. She willed herself to focus on the matter at hand.

  “I wouldn’t…not yet,” he said. “Cheyenne ran from you today, so don’t say anything that might show up in the media. It might scare her into running again.”

  Sable nodded, wishing she could put some distance between them and force her thundering pulse into submission. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  She stared at him, remembering ho
w he’d kissed her, his hands wandering the planes and curves of her body. The deep blue of his dress shirt and the sapphire studs in his earlobes heightened his rich skin tone and the sparkle in his eyes. She shivered slightly, and a lightning bolt of need speared her core. If she didn’t get some space from him soon, she’d do something stupid, which would probably murder their work relationship. “W-we certainly don’t need any unnecessary problems.”

  “Ms. Hendricks-Tade?” the reporter urged.

  The others observed her expectantly.

  “I was trying to catch up with a friend today,” she began, her tone calm, a bright smile pasted on her face as several camera bulbs flashed, digital cameras snapped, and cell phones clicked. “I was so excited that I neglected to check traffic and blundered out into the street.”

  “A friend?” a woman said. A press tag hung from her neck on a clear plastic string. “You wouldn’t be looking for your daughter again, would you?”

  “No,” Sable said, her tone turning guarded. “We gave up hope of finding my daughter. After all, she’s been missing for five years now.”

  The reporter nodded and typed something into her hand-held gadget.

  Sable humored the reporters for a few more minutes. Questions about the accident, her physical welfare, and if any lawsuits would be filed were fired at her like missiles.

  “That’s enough,” Thomas said. “We’re here because The Golden invited us, so let’s focus on The Golden. This is her night to celebrate.”

  “Do you think your daughter is dead?” an older man from Channel Four News hollered over the voices still firing questions at Sable.

  A shriller, more feminine voice yelled, “Is it true that your daughter was on drugs when she ran away?”

  “Excuse me!” a clear, bell-like voice called out. “That’s quite enough.”

  The press, and those of the paparazzi permitted access, quieted instantly.

  Sable stared past Thomas. There, just a few feet away, stood the young woman with the bright yellow hair, the elderly lady at her side. Both possessed an acute air of authority.