The Darkness of Sable

by Faith Bicknell

  Aglow? Sable blinked rapidly and looked again. No dog.

  She slipped her right foot out of its loafer and pressed it flat on the concrete, even scuffing it back and forth over the rough, grainy surface. She pinched her arm and grimaced at the pain. She was really here, so she wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating.

  But The Threshold and the odd symbol hadn’t been here in the daylight. She was sure of that.

  The couples finally reached her and filed two by two down the staircase. She waited, allowing for about half a dozen steps between them and her before following the small crowd. At the bottom, the same gigantic bouncer sat inside the doorway. He motioned for her to stop, his eyes inky, gaze penetrating. He smiled, revealing his prominent fangs.

  “You’re a new customer,” he said in a bizarre accent above the pounding music. “You were here last night. Password?”

  She gaped at him. His grin widened. Sable remembered what Goldie had said before and repeated it.

  He nodded, flashing his canines again. “Eighteen bucks,” he said. She passed him her debit card. He swiped it, handed it back, and allowed her to pass.

  Trepidation descended on her as she slipped her card back into her pocket and maneuvered the stairs. Memories returned of the old woman in the basement, followed by the horrific encounter with the little monster and the odd swoosh of warm, scented air. Now the sex bar was back.

  How is any of this possible?

  She reached the bottom. Although the evening was young, and the nightclub probably hadn’t been open for long, couples and threesomes filled the mattresses, beds, and booths. Some leaned against walls or stood in corners humping one another. Between pulses of music, Sable caught the moans and throaty cries of those in the throes of ecstasy.

  Sable hesitated at the bottom of the steps. Maybe coming here again wasn’t such a good idea.

  Many women wore floor-length, flowing gowns in shimmering fabrics, the hems of their dresses lost in the swirling fog that blanketed the floor. The ladies, their arms long and thin, eyes almond-shaped, flaxen hair tumbling down svelte backs, were gorgeous but in an exotic, surreal manner. Men paraded around in top hats and black three-piece tuxedos. Some people sported full-length velvet robes of black, white, or crimson, the cowls over their heads shadowing their faces.

  Two little people wandered by. One of the men, whose head barely reached Sable’s hips, glanced up at her with bright-blue eyes. “You’re quite lovely. Too bad you’re so big.”

  His friend laughed, and together, they disappeared into the crowd.

  The little man’s words left Sable unsettled. She dismissed the encounter and picked out other tiny people mixed in the fray. She wandered up to the bar where one such dainty, fine-featured woman sat nursing a Bloody Mary.

  Where do all these people come from?

  “I’m pleased you accepted my invitation,” a voice said into her ear.

  Turning, she found Rick at her elbow. “Hi,” she said. “Am I late?”

  Rick shook his head. “Nope. Right on time.” He cupped her cheek. “Come with me.”

  His coal-black hair had been swept back from his face in soft waves. Dark eyebrows and thick, ebony lashes gave him a strong, regal semblance. The warmth in his amber eyes suggested things that Sable could only imagine.

  Heat flowed into her crotch and pooled in her lower belly. Sable forced herself to quell the sensation and shot him a questioning look.

  “I’ve missed you,” he added and took her hand.

  At his touch, her will evaporated, and dire need throbbed in her loins. Something’s not right. I shouldn’t do this… She followed Rick through the crowd of dancers and admired his wide shoulders beneath a black swashbuckler’s shirt. Oh, what a nice ass, and those dark leather slacks only make it twice as sexy. Sable willed herself to focus elsewhere, fighting the desire simmering in her veins.

  They passed a bed where two women saw to a man’s needs, and on a dais with a mattress on it, two men screwed one woman. Sable flushed at the display, but regardless, the sights and sounds heightened her desire. The longer she held Rick’s hand, the more she wanted him, the more she needed him thrusting between her legs.

  This isn’t me. If there are drugs in the vapor or smoke, I haven’t been here long enough for it to affect me, have I?

  A tall woman in a leopard-skin suit that appeared uncannily realistic moved so they could pass. Sable did another double take. A man wearing the male version of the woman’s outfit joined her and pulled her over to a bed. She bent over it, and he mounted her like a cat.

  “Here we are,” Rick said. He put his arm around her waist and drew her into a small cubbyhole just behind the DJ’s booth. “This is the best place to fuck. The music throbs inside you.”

  “Rick, I—”

  “Just like I will, too.” He swept her into his arms and claimed her mouth.

  This is so wrong… All reason fled Sable’s head.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Symbol

  B efore Thomas could spend the rest of the evening with Sable, he had to take care of the monster on the third floor that was lurking under the little girl’s bed. However, he hated being away from Sable. Panic fluttered in his chest. What if something bad happened in her suite while he was gone? With the way things had been going the last couple of days, his sixth sense was working overtime, and it seemed as though those who were bent on claiming Sable were working harder at it.

  With resolve, he slipped out the window and crept down the hotel’s outer wall. He couldn’t leave the child to deal with the monster alone. It could be anything from the Bogey Man to one of the malicious subspecies of faeries or even a hobgoblin. If something happened to the kid, he’d feel horrible.

  Upon reaching the child’s window, he placed the black pebble in his mouth again. Once his body faded, he tapped on the glass pane. Seconds later, the girl pulled the curtains aside and looked out. Thomas spit the stone into his hand, allowing the child to see him.

  A bright smile lit up her round face. She shoved the windowpane back. “It’s you! Are you here to kill the monster under my bed?” She regarded him with wide, deep-blue eyes.

  “Yes, but you have to keep it a secret.” Thomas sat on the windowsill. “Is the coast clear?”

  She nodded and stepped back.

  Thomas clambered into the bedroom and stood, listening.

  “My aunt and grammy are asleep in the next room,” the kid whispered.

  Thomas pulled his pant leg up and unsheathed a long, obsidian dagger. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  “MaryJane.”

  “Go stand next to the door, MaryJane.” He tugged a small flashlight from his pants pocket. “If something happens, run to the next room and flip on all the lights. Monsters hate bright lights. Do you understand?”

  She gulped and nodded.

  On his hands and knees, Thomas flipped the dust ruffle up and shone his flashlight beneath the bed. Red eyes glowed back at him, and with a screech, the Brownie spat on the floor. A shimmering gold oval appeared on the carpet. The faerie scrabbled through the portal, his fuzzy red-brown form moving like a monkey. Once the faerie passed through the magical doorway, the portal winked out.

  With a sigh of relief, Thomas rested his forehead against the floor. It was just a harmless Brownie. The schism of the paranormal worlds had forced many of the helper faeries into areas of the mortal realm where they weren’t needed anymore. Hotels were rife with fey laborers looking for housekeeping and other menial tasks to perform, so when guests stayed for a week or more, the disturbances began.

  Thomas withdrew an iron ball the size of a dime from his pants pocket and rolled it under the child’s bed. “There. No more monsters under your bed, sweetheart. This particular kind doesn’t like iron, so when you check out of the hotel, make sure you take that little ball with you and put it under your bed wherever you’re staying.”

  The girl rushed to him and wrapped her arms around his hips, hugging him. “Th
ank you.”

  Thomas patted her head and climbed out the window to return to his suite. Finally inside his room, he picked out casual clothes, his thoughts riveted on Sable and how she’d felt in his arms, the taste of her mouth, and the way she’d responded to him.

  I must have been out of mind to kiss her like that and… He gulped and willed his cock to stay still. We almost made love. If the Judges find out about how things have changed between me and Sable, there will be hell for me to pay. I have to keep our friendship the way it’s always been, but how?

  He pulled a clean shirt over his head. He hated to admit it, but he wanted to be with Sable all the time, and by all that was magical, he desired her like he’d never desired any other woman.

  His cock pulsed with need. Grimacing, Thomas yanked his Nikes from the closet.

  “Damn, damn, and triple damn!”

  Dressed, he strode to the mini bar and poured a shot of Wild Turkey, downed it, and stood staring at the picture that hung above the countertop of a mermaid wooing a fisherman. Of all the magic on Earth and of all the beautiful females he’d dealt with over the years, he wanted the one who was his ward, the one who possessed some sort of unique ability that could set the paranormal realms on their ears.

  “Sable,” he whispered. “What am I going to do about you?”

  Thomas spun on his heel and marched to the door joining their suites, throwing it open.

  “Sable?” he called.

  Silence greeted him.

  He scanned the room, his gaze landing on a piece of paper lying on the bed. Something cold poked at his spine, and dread filled Thomas’s heart. Hurrying to the bed, he snatched up the note and read it.

  “Son of a bitch!” He crumpled the paper and threw it against the wall.

  Rick released Sable’s lips and gazed into her eyes. He grinned, the deep dimple at the right corner of his mouth prominent. Even such a tiny part of him screamed sex.

  “I want you,” he said.

  “Rick, I don’t…” Once his mouth touched the soft skin of her throat, Sable forgot her next words. The sensations that he created left Sable breathless, intoxicated, euphoric, and wanting more. I want…I want him to fuck me! She wished for willpower, but the wish dissolved into thin air, and the need to have Rick inside her became Sable’s only thought.

  He tugged at the button of her jeans, followed by lowering the zipper. His fingers slipped beneath her panties and stroked the thin line of hair that covered her pelvic bone. Fire erupted in her loins and flamed along the planes and valleys of her body.

  With the wall to her back, she reveled in the kisses he trailed down the neckline of her sweater as she pushed her pants and underwear down over her hips. He cupped both her breasts, his thumbs just brushing the underside of each nipple. A gasp burst from her. She leaned her head back, enjoying the primeval need throbbing in every nerve ending and across every inch of her skin. Rick managed to get one hand under her sweater and pop the front clasp of her bra. Vaguely, she realized he’d unfastened his pants with his other hand.

  “I’m going to fuck you,” he said into her ear. “I’m going to pierce you, make you cry out my name, make you mine.”

  But I don’t want to be his. I want to be Thomas’s woman.

  Despite the truth she knew in her heart, Rick’s words sent spears of anticipation zipping to her core.

  “Yes,” she said, not caring if he actually heard her or not. “I want you now. Please, now.” She wiggled both legs, which aided her jeans and panties in sliding below her knees. Cool air caressed her thighs and ass. She didn’t care who saw her, and besides, who would notice? “Fuck me,” she pleaded. “Now!”

  Rick’s shaft bumped against her belly, and another rocket of anticipation and need roared through her. She whimpered impatiently, her blood pounding in her ears in time to the bass thundering in the nightclub. He dipped his head to the curve of her neck then painted a path upon her skin with his tongue. He stepped in the ring created by her legs, her ankles bound by her wadded jeans, and looked at her. Mischief glimmered in the depths of Rick’s golden gaze.

  “Mmph, fuck me,” she said. Even though the words came out of her mouth, shame blossomed over her skin. It wasn’t like Sable to talk in such a way.

  His chuckles filled her ears, despite the loud thrumming selection the DJ had switched to. “I’m more than happy to oblige.”

  She nuzzled his neck, nipping his skin.

  He looked at her again, his amber eyes aglow with desire. “There’s something about you that I just can’t get enough of,” he said.

  A firecracker of desire popped inside Sable, the repercussion coaxing the spring deep within her to start winding up again. Rick caressed her face, his gaze boring into hers, hands investigating her body.

  The song switched to a soft tune full of harps and flutes. Although the volume was still high, the lack of bass permitted Sable to hear the cries and screams of pleasure filtering throughout The Threshold.

  “Please,” she said, despite the reasoning side of her brain that yelled ‘this is wrong.’ “Make love to me.”

  “You’re twice as lovely when you blush.” He laughed and stepped out from between her ankles to pull her down to a mat placed on the floor.

  Surprised, she realized she’d been so wrapped up in Rick that she hadn’t noticed she’d been standing on a mat. Wisps of the rolling fog tumbled over and around them. She reclined on the pallet, and Rick tugged her loafers and jeans off. His cock hardened and stood proudly. He braced himself on his palms, his face a mask of anticipation.

  Sable pushed his shirt up, needing to feel his flesh against hers, and ran her hands over his torso. A small tattoo of the infinity-and-lily symbol glistened on his skin just to the left and slightly above the main portion of his pectoral muscle. She tried to focus on it, but the coil within her tightened harder. With a cry of delight, Sable lost herself to the sensations propelling her to a joyous release.

  Thomas opted to take the rental car instead of a limo. He tore out of the hotel parking lot and shot into traffic. With the tires squealing, he maneuvered the car back into one lane of traffic.

  Something must have drawn Sable to The Threshold, and I don’t think it has anything to do with clues to Cheyenne’s whereabouts.

  Within minutes, he parked in the lot opposite the nightclub and raced across the street and down into the stairwell. He knocked, uttered the password, and pushed inside past a black couple, who threw him dirty looks.

  Upon noticing Thomas, the big guy at the top of the stairs paled. “Go ahead.” He waved him on. “No charge.”

  “Where is she?” Thomas leaned close to him.

  “Wh-who?”

  “Don’t play your vamp bullshit games with me,” Thomas growled and placed both hands on the cover-fee stand. “I’ll yank out your fangs and stuff ’em up your ass.”

  The bouncer gulped. “The human woman came in about half an hour ago and met one of your colleagues, who whisked her off to a private booth.”

  Furious, Thomas whirled and quickly descended the stairs, his feet barely touching the steps.

  At the bottom, he paused and scanned the club. He hated how the fey used the magical fog to confuse mortals and heighten their sexual appetites while dulling their senses. Luckily, after years of working in such environments, he’d grown immune to the stuff.

  A tall, dark-eyed, dark-skinned beauty snagged his arm and pressed her body to his. “What do you say we fuck over there on that chaise?” she asked and licked her ruby lips.

  Thomas looked directly in her eyes. He drew upon his powers and forced an image into her mind, one of him staking her through the heart.

  She bared her fangs, hissing. “How dare they allow a marshal in our club!”

  “If you have a problem with it,” he said over the music, “then take it up with the Judges.”

  Something shifted in her gaze, something showing a complete attitude change tinged with fear. She let go of his arm and faded into t
he crowd.

  “Fucking vampires,” he snarled as he pushed through the swaying and grinding couples.

  Thomas realized word must be spreading about his presence. More couples made obvious efforts to give him passage, and others pointed at him, whispering behind their hands, their gazes wary.

  The music changed from the loud hip-hop tune to a grunge song that literally vibrated the floor beneath Thomas’s feet. He shouldered between some lycanthropes and moved on through a group of shape-shifters before he spotted the cubicle next to the DJ’s sound stage.

  Please don’t let me be too late. If she’s succumbed to him…

  With resolve, Thomas skirted a large dais with a community mattress alive with writhing forms, and stepped around the wall. There, half on top of Sable, his bare ass to the ceiling, slacks bunched around his ankles, lay Rick. Until then, Thomas could never quite discern what variety of Paranorm Rick was, but with his attention occupied, his power of camouflage had weakened. Large, ram-like horns rolled from the front of Rick’s head, curling back to almost touch his shoulder blades.

  Surprised pierced Thomas. One of those—he was permitted to guard Sable? What the hell were the Judges thinking?

  The Paranorm moved just enough that Thomas saw his cock slide over Sable’s pubic bone. The feeling that ripped through Thomas fired strength into his arms he didn’t know he possessed. An odd red haze settled over his vision, and with the urge to kill, Thomas snatched Rick by one of his spiraling horns and clasped his upper arm with his other hand. He yanked the Paranorm off of Sable and threw him across the back of the nightclub.

  Rick flew through the air, the fog parting as his body passed through it, swirling the vapor in pretty columns of lavender and blue. The resounding crash of Rick smashing into a dazzling wall of glass shelves holding figurines of screwing couples nearly drowned out the pulsing music. He hit the floor, landing in a shower of splintered crystal, porcelain, and colored glass. Shards twinkled and sparkled.