The music stopped. Thomas glanced out at the club. Every human and Paranorm turned toward the source of the disturbance, their mouths agape, eyes wide with shock.
Dismissing them, Thomas advanced on Rick, who shook his head and staggered to his feet. Grabbing him by the throat, Thomas heaved him into the air and pinned him to the wall six inches above the floor.
“Touch Sable again, you Parnorm son of a bitch, and I’ll rip off your horns and use them to stake you to the floor in front of the Judges.”
“I have permission to sed-seduce her,” Rick wheezed, clutching at Thomas’s hand.
“That’s not possible!”
“Y-yes…it…is.” Rick closed his eyes and pulled harder at Thomas’s fingers. “The Judges figured if she belonged to me—”
“Valimar, don’t!” a feminine voice chastised.
Magic hit Thomas, and against his will, he released the Paranorm. As if he’d cracked his funny bone, zings threaded his arm. He rubbed his limb and turned to find The Golden staring up at him.
“You can’t kill him,” Goldie said. Sincerity filled her eyes. “The Judges are only looking out for Sable. What better way to hide her than to let a Paranorm woo her and control her will.”
“This piece of shit can’t be trusted,” Thomas snapped and shook some feeling back into his fingers. “His kind can’t give up controlling their victims.”
“I-I have to,” Rick gasped. He struggled to his feet, clasping his purpling throat. “But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t enjoy using her while—”
Incensed, Thomas swung, his fist connecting with Rick’s jaw. The Paranorm hit the floor and lay still.
“You better take your ward and get the hell out of here,” Goldie said, lowering her voice. “I’ll handle the mess you’ve made, including the questions. This sort of thing is going to draw the wrong attention, and then you may not be able to protect her no matter how many of the Old World might be here to help you.” She glanced at Rick’s prone form and sighed. “I’ll make sure he uses glamour to camouflage his bruises, too.”
“I’m sorry, Goldie,” he said. “But what the Judges are doing is wrong.”
“Maybe to you it is,” she replied and pushed him toward the booth where Sable still lay naked. “If you don’t figure out a way to hide your feelings for that woman, I might add, the Judges will—”
“I know, I know,” he said. “I’ll get Sable dressed and take her out of here.”
“Valimar,” The Golden said.
He paused. “Yes?”
“I know what it’s like to always have to sacrifice your needs and wants for the sake of others. Don’t give up and don’t let the Judges or the force that’s after Sable win. Love is the most incredible power in all of creation, and it’s the symbol of all white magic.”
He smiled at her.
“And I’m really sorry, too.”
Thomas frowned. “For what?”
“For her,” she replied, pointing.
He turned and came face to face with a Judge. The Judge raised her hand, and magic blasted him, taking him into a dark oblivion.
Chapter Nineteen
Illusions
S able blinked and sat up on one elbow, her gaze moving from the DJ above to Rick, who reclined on his side in front of her.
“Come on,” he said. “I think it’s time for a few drinks.”
Fear sliced through her soul. “What happened? Did I…did we?”
He slid his finger down her aquiline nose, a contagious smile on his face. “No, we didn’t do anything. You must be really exhausted because you fell asleep.” He stood, raising his arms over his head, and stretched. “See? You still have your clothes on.” Laughter rumbled out of him.
“I fell asleep?”
He nodded, a wry grin on his face.
Embarrassed and simultaneously relieved, she said, “I’m so sorry, Rick.”
“Don’t worry about it. Worrying about your daughter has got to take a lot out of you, and then if you add business and traveling to it, it’s a wonder you don’t crash for a week.”
She nodded and placed her hand in Rick’s. “I am tired, and all I seem to think about is Cheyenne.” Sable followed him out of the small alcove. Not to mention Thomas. At the thought of him, pain stabbed her heart. How can I want Thomas and yet allow Rick to do the things he does to me?
Movement caught her attention. She glanced over her shoulder just in time to see two women no more than eighteen inches high hurry around the corner with cloths and tiny bottles of disinfectant. She blinked and craned her neck, but they were gone.
Rick pulled her along behind him and detoured around the dance floor blazing with deep lavender and blue lights that complemented the same color scheme glowing from the bar. The more attention she paid to the patrons of The Threshold, the odder they became. Short, tiny, tall, overly tall, big, boney, extremely large feet, fangs—fur? Was that real?—wings that jutted from backs, slender ears that poked out of hair, and all other weirdness, wild costumes, and crazy attire marked over half the people in attendance. She passed a woman with hair as white as a bleached sheet and green eyes so bright they looked like they were afire.
“What’s your poison?” Rick asked, interrupting her gawking time.
“Uh…bourbon, straight up.” Maybe a bit of liquid courage would calm her overactive imagination.
Rick grinned and led her the last few feet to the bar. “There’s a seat.”
She hopped up onto the stool, and Rick ordered their drinks. An enormous mirror ran the length of the bar’s entire back wall. Bottles of various wines and liquors flashed and sparkled in the colorful lights. Sable watched the clubbers’ reflections behind her. A tall, debonair man squeezed in between her and the tiny woman to her right.
“A glass of the house’s special red,” the man said.
Startled, Sable jumped. Where in the hell did he come from? I didn’t see him in the mirror.
“My apologies,” he said, smiling down at her. His eyes, a bizarre shade of neon green, reminded Sable of the monsters that plagued her of late. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“I didn’t see you come up behind me.” She pointed at the mirror.
The stranger laughed. “It’s a trick mirror. It’s part of The Threshold’s charm.”
She kept staring, her mouth agape.
The man glanced back at her. “Yes?”
“Your….” She pointed at her eyes.
“Oh.” A charming laugh drifted out of him, the sound melodious. He reached up with both hands and popped a colored lens out of one eye. “Just contacts, that’s all.” He blinked, and the pupil dilated to allow in more light. In fact, his eye color was almost black.
Something about the man set Sable on edge, leaving her cold and unsettled. Even the hair on her nape stood at attention.
He smiled again, his teeth perfect. Two small fangs shone brightly. “Yeah, the contacts are the perfect complement to my vamp attire, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely,” she said. If that drink doesn’t come soon…
As if having read her thoughts, the bartender slid a short tumbler of bourbon along the bar to her, and Sable snatched it up, taking a big gulp.
The vamp wannabe tossed her another glorious smile, took his glass of creepy, thick wine, and wandered onto the dance floor. Sable glanced at the mirror and then over her shoulder at him, but he’d disappeared into the crowd of dancers.
“Hey,” said Rick. “I need to talk to that guy on the other end of the bar. Will you be okay here for a few minutes?”
“Sure,” she said.
He brushed his lips across hers. An arrow of hot longing stabbed her crotch.
Rick unwedged himself from the people pressed around the counter and weaved in and out of the bodies until he reached a guy at the other end. A heavy purple robe clothed the fellow. Blue-black hair fell to his shoulder blades.
Returning her attention to the mirror, Sable noted how the crowd had grow
n in The Threshold. The dance floor had been full before, but now bodies were packed on it as if they were one interconnected mass. Instead of one couple or threesome per bed or mattress, two couples now occupied most of them, and even some orgies took place on several of the beds. Multiple sex partners filled most of the booths, and the empty spaces along the walls now possessed occupants. Even the staircase leading down from the door had couples groping one another against its curving wall.
She frowned and watched the crowd. The music flowed from a tune of lutes and a piano back to a pulse-pounding bass that served to heighten everyone’s sexual appetites. The dancers stopped the slow, rhythmic steps and gyrated, leaped, and flailed about. Sable sipped her drink and wished Rick would hurry up.
A head of bright blonde curls bobbed through the throng. Sable set her tumbler down, concentrating on the yellow head of hair weaving back and forth between the dark robes, suits, and soft-colored dresses. The patrons parted slightly, and Sable saw enough of the woman’s face to confirm her suspicions.
Goldie!
The artist made her way along the outskirts of the dance floor and settled on the edge of a booth where a group of Goths kissed and fondled one another as they practiced vampirism. One of the three men sitting there looked up from his date’s wrist where he’d been sucking. Blood trickled over his chin, and he flashed Goldie a pleased smile. He scooted over, giving The Golden more room. The others stopped their groping and drinking and gave Goldie their full attention.
The meeting. Those are the people who have information about Cheyenne’s whereabouts. She glanced at the bartender. “If I give you a twenty-dollar tip, will you save my seat?”
“Twenty bucks? Sure.”
“I’m going to leave my drink here, but I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He nodded and set a small, white plastic RESERVED sign on the counter by her glass.
Without a backward glance, Sable slipped off the stool and made her way across the nightclub toward the booth of Gothic vamp wannabes and their golden-haired companion.
Thomas swam to the top of consciousness. He groaned and shook his head, opening his eyes. Darkness prevailed, but as he continued to blink and his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he saw that the darkness wasn’t as deep as he’d thought. Black silhouettes stood out starkly in the room.
Damn! I’m in the Judges’ chamber! That means that Paranorm is with Sable!
“Valimar,” a feminine voice said softly. “Your conduct is disappointing. Your feelings for your ward have made you weak.”
Remaining silent, he peered into the shadows.
“If it were not for Goldie, you’d be stripped of your powers and your duties, punished, and dumped back into the mortal world permanently.” The smallest of the figures moved closer and paused a few feet away. “You know the laws. You must strive to avoid revealing your magic and your purpose to humans. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Thomas realized he wasn’t bound and struggled to his feet. “It’s pointless to enforce such a law when both the Old and New Orders own and operate places where humans and Paranorms mingle.” He swayed for a moment. The effects of fey magic always left him feeling hung over. “How can the Judges expect those in your service to follow such laws when you don’t observe them yourselves?” He steeled himself for the backlash. Taunting the Judges, regardless if his point was valid or not, was a reckless thing to do. “You assigned a Paranorm, who is a magical seducer, to protect my ward!”
“Tread carefully, Valimar,” the voice said, tone sharp. “You are the best marshal we have, the most feared by all who are evil, but you can be left with nothing but misery and pain.”
Something within Thomas shifted, as if his heart, filled with agony, had been turned over and all that pain dumped out on the floor. Resolve spilled into the emptied space, and Thomas realized what he wanted most: Sable and a life without the Old World’s control and the New Order’s lust for it.
“We put Sable,” the voice continued, “in Rick’s care because his magic can camouflage her until we discover the identity of those who wish her dead. And if she’s under Rick’s influence, she’s less likely to use her powers. Therefore, the threat to her is less likely to find her.”
“What powers?” Thomas countered. “I’ve not witnessed anything she can do that’s out of the ordinary.”
“We sense it but cannot identify it.”
Thomas struggled not to pop off with another smart-assed retort. How could they play with Sable’s life like that when they didn’t even know…? A startling thought streaked across his mind.
“You want her for your own purposes,” he spat. “That’s why you’re doing this. You might not know what Sable’s abilities are, but you sense an intense magic that you feel can serve the Old World!”
“I say we kill him,” another female voice interjected. A tall, darker, and extremely thin figure moved through the gloom. “He has turned against us and will expose all.”
“Silence!” the first voice shot back. “He has not done anything worthy of a death penalty. His mind and heart are clouded by love.”
“I am not in love with Sable,” he said.
“Oh, but you are. You just haven’t admitted it to yourself yet.”
“You will see my words come to pass,” the second voice cut in. “Valimar will expose us and go to the New Order’s side.”
“Be still, Judge, or I will silence you,” the first snapped. The form drifted closer to Thomas. “The Golden speaks highly of you, Valimar, and she has valid points about Rick’s wanton conduct, too. His attempt to claim Sable at The Threshold was stupid. Rick will be dealt with, and we will forbid him from seducing her.”
“Thank you,” Thomas replied.
“However,” the Judge said, “Rick will remain to aid us—and you—in protecting the woman.”
“But—”
“If you have feelings for Sable, I suggest you shut your mouth before you are torn from her forever.” The figure drew within two feet of Thomas. “Control your feelings, Valimar. Don’t let them get in the way of your duty. If you do, it could cost Sable her life as well as yours. Now, go find her and take her back to the hotel, but guard her well, Valimar.”
Magic slammed into Thomas, and sleepiness assailed him. He fought the sensation but couldn’t prevent it from overtaking him once again. However, this time the magic didn’t knock him out. He blinked and shook away the haze in his mind to find himself leaning against the wall in an alley. The faint pulse of bass reached his ears, and he realized the building across from him was The Threshold.
I’m really beginning to hate Paranorms.
He raked his hands over his face and back along his cornrows to rid himself of the Judge’s magic. Taking a deep breath and filling his lungs until they protested, he let the air out in a slow, steady manner. Thomas rolled his shoulders and stepped out of the alley right in front of Hal, who hurried along the walk.
“What the hell?” Hal stumbled, and, righting himself, spun on his heel to face Thomas.
“You!” Irritation consumed Thomas as he met the man’s ice-blue gaze. The essence of something paranormal hovered around Hal. Thomas frowned. “What are you doing here?”
“I came here to do some investigating on my own. When I called the hotel and the desk said she was out, I figured Sable came here again. She was adamant that this club was here last night.” Hal shrugged. “It was just a feeling, but I thought I’d check it out after dark. I know Sable well enough that when she’s that determined or insistent about something, I should listen.”
“Oh?” Thomas quirked an eyebrow. “Just like you’ve listened every time Sable has called you about your daughter’s whereabouts?”
“Hey, I can’t spend my days chasing every one of her fantasy leads.” Hal fixed him with a venomous look. “It’s just that this time things seem different, and I thought I should check it out.”
“Sure.”
Thomas sensed an aura of magic surrounding
the man, but it was so slight he wasn’t positive it was truly there. With all the Paranorms around The Threshold, not to mention the magic floating about the area, he couldn’t be certain he wasn’t detecting harmless residue.
But I smelled power on him in Sable’s suite this morning.
Unsure, Thomas studied Hal’s eyes and body language, looking for a sign. Anyone could bump into a Paranorm on a street, in a grocery store or a hotel lobby and never know it. Hell, the guy could’ve been sharing an elevator with a werewolf and discussed the weather for all he knew.
“I’m going into the club to fetch Sable,” Thomas stated. “If you want to talk to her, call her tomorrow morning.”
“Now wait just a minute!” Hal placed his hand on Thomas’s arm. “You don’t tell me what to do.”
“If you don’t take your hand off me, I’m telling you I’m going to break your arm.”
Hal jerked his hand back and took one step away. “I’m going in the club with you.”
“You’re a nuisance. Stay here.”
“I’m going, and that’s final.”
“Fine, but you’re on your own.” Thomas strode toward the club’s stairwell.
Hal’s hurried footsteps sounded on the sidewalk. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means if you shoot off your mouth in the club, I’m not saving your worthless ass.” Thomas descended the stairs and rapped on the door. Secretly, he hoped Hal smarted off to someone, preferably a shape-shifter with big fangs and claws. Yeah, that would be cool.
Hal the hors d’oeuvre. It had a nice ring to it.
Someone bumped into Sable’s backside. “Oh, excuse me.”
She glanced over her shoulder to find the debonair man with the neon contacts.
“Hey, it’s the lady with the Rapunzel hair,” he said, beaming at her. “Care to dance with me?”
“Sorry, I’m on my way to meet someone,” she replied loudly, her attention distracted. She had to reach the Goths’ booth before Goldie left.
His gaze followed hers, and he leaned over, his voice loud to breach the music. “You’re not on your way over to that booth, are you?” He pointed.
The Darkness of Sable Page 19