Something Wicked

by Michelle Rowen

  Theo slapped his back. “Now, cheer up. It won’t be long until you’re back to normal. At which point, I strongly suggest you steer clear from witches.”

  Words to live by. He might even have it printed on a T-shirt.

  Sunrise.

  It was never a very pleasant time of the day.

  Darrak gasped in pain as his essence was torn out of Eden’s body. Bracing himself for what he knew was coming never helped. It was better just to give in to it as best he could.

  Ten long seconds of agony later, he lay next to Eden on her bed as he instinctively changed from a formless cloud of black smoke to an exact replica of his former self. The pain dissipated. He lay still for a moment as he regained his strength.

  As the pain receded, he was able to feel other things. Eden’s bedsheets were soft. Her mattress was a bit lumpy, but the sensation of it—lumps and all—was sheer pleasure to him.

  And, as she did every morning shortly after he became corporeal, Eden reached for him in her sleep. She slid her hand over his bare chest, and he inhaled sharply at the feel of her warm skin against his.

  “Darrak,” she murmured. “Mmmm . . . yes . . .”

  He had to agree with her.

  Eden talked in her sleep. Frequently. It was one of the many reasons he’d decided to dampen her during his trip out to see Theo. Otherwise, he might have sounded like someone with Tourette syndrome.

  She dreamed about him, and they were not always chaste and platonic dreams of friendship. Despite what had happened in the past, and the promise that it could never happen again, the thought that Eden dreamed about him pleased Darrak more than he’d like to admit, even to himself.

  Her hand drifted over his now fully aroused body as he studied her beautiful face. Her lips moved as she whispered his name.

  “Eden . . . this isn’t real,” he said quietly, remembering clearly what Theo had said, and stroked the long dark red hair off her face. His mouth was now only an inch from hers. She must have sensed this, since she closed the distance and brushed her lips against his.

  Not real. None of what he felt was. It was just an illusion—one that would vanish the moment his curse was broken.

  “I want you,” she murmured. “Darrak . . . I want you so much . . .”

  Her hand moved down his abdomen and slipped under the edge of the sheet covering him. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, but didn’t try to stop her.

  Then he had a vivid flashback to what had happened the last time she’d touched him like this—when she’d been awake and willing and about to make the decision that could ultimately cost her soul.

  Guilt worked as well as an ice-cold shower.

  He swiftly moved away from her and sat up on the edge of the bed. With a focused thought he conjured clothes to cover his naked body—black T-shirt, black jeans. Same as usual. He watched Eden sleep for another five minutes, before forcing himself to stand up and leave the bedroom.

  Real or not, he really wished he could dream as well.

  FIVE

  Eden’s dreams lately hadn’t been very helpful. Especially the ones she had about Darrak.

  All of him. Every single inch.

  After these dreams, she’d wake up all hot and bothered and still exhausted. It was like she’d been out all night gallivanting around town, rather than tucked safely away in bed.

  At least Darrak was respecting her wishes. The first few days he’d possessed her, he’d stayed in bed after taking form, and she’d been dismayed to wake up wrapped around him like a flannel-clad anaconda.

  Eden’s unconscious self seemed compelled to grope the demon in her sleep. How embarrassing. During her waking hours she was totally in control of herself. To find that she couldn’t do the same at night was embarrassing, to say the least.

  This morning, he was gone. That was good, of course. What sane woman would want to wake up snuggled against a gorgeous, naked demon?

  Not her. No way.

  This morning, she awoke still feeling weary, but filled with purpose. They’d been close last night. Really close. She’d seen it with her own two eyes.

  It had been a long, bumpy road, but the end was finally in sight.

  Believing any differently wasn’t going to help matters. Eden worked daily on staying positive. Not the easiest thing to do, but she really had no choice.

  Things were going to work out perfectly.

  Well, except for the black magic problem.

  Her face tightened at the thought. Put it out of your mind, Eden. One thing at a time.

  She could try to be positive about that, too. Honestly, she could.

  Plus side: Even if she never used the magic that came with the designation of black witch, she was now immortal. She could live forever and not age. That was a definite perk.

  Down side: she could still be killed. Witches were still human. Bullets, knives, a fall down a flight of stairs. A poorly chewed Chicken McNugget.

  A slow but steady depletion of her life energy to keep Darrak in existence.

  Yes, these were all dangerous and potentially deadly to her.

  Oh, my God. I’m going to die.

  No. Positive thoughts only, please.

  She finally dragged herself out of bed and went into the bathroom, peering at her reflection in the mirror. She yawned so widely, she could see right down to her tonsils. Being possessed was a draining experience. Literally.

  They had to get back to that club tonight and talk to the wizard’s assistant. The rest, she assured herself, would run smoothly.

  Darrak told her so. And she believed him.

  She tried to unclench her jaw.

  She showered and got dressed, then left the bathroom to find Darrak cooking scrambled eggs in her kitchenette. She wasn’t sure why, but after dealing with him in her head every night, it was always a shock to see how attractive he was when he had a body. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair he had tucked behind his ears since it was a bit too long and unruly. His eyes were pale blue and would seem cold if not for the glimmer of warm humor they almost always held.

  Yes, Darrak was admittedly gorgeous and seemed utterly out of place in Eden’s tiny, plain apartment. Let alone in her tiny, plain life.

  “Hungry?” he asked, indicating the frying pan.

  An explicit clip from her erotically charged dream flickered in her mind. “Not really.”

  “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you know.”

  “Followed closely by a steady stream of caffeine. Which I will grab at work.”

  “Fine. More for me.” He scooped the contents of the frying pan onto a waiting plate. Demons didn’t have to eat, but Darrak enjoyed the taste of food anyway. He could shovel it in and remain the same size, not jeopardizing those mouthwatering abs of his no matter how many calories he consumed.

  Please think about something else, she instructed herself sternly.

  She squeezed her amulet, focusing on the coolness of the stone. But that only helped remind her of why she had to wear it in the first place. Black magic stirred under her skin.

  Ignore that, too.

  Tonight. They’d go back to the club tonight. She wondered if Graham had ended up finding out any more about the missing women. She grabbed the newspaper Darrak had brought in earlier and flipped through the first few pages. Nothing stood out to her about the case. Of course, Graham was the only one who thought it was a case. To the police, it was a half-dozen adult women who’d wandered off without telling anyone.

  She truly wished she could channel her psychic abilities into something more practical than an unhelpful and unreliable flash of information every now and then.

  Leena sat quietly on the sofa in the living room reading a copy of Cosmopolitan.

  “So?” Leena asked, glancing over at her.

  “So what?”

  “How did it go last night?” She waggled her eyebrows.

  Why was she waggling her eyebrows?

  Two weeks ago, Eden had allowed a sm
all black cat to have some shelter one cold, rainy night. That black cat turned out to be a shapeshifter hiding from people she said wanted to kill her. After being possessed by Darrak, Eden gave off some otherworldly vibes that Others were able to sense. Because of this, Leena assumed Eden could protect her and wouldn’t take no for an answer when she tried to get rid of her.

  Whether or not Eden could protect her was one thing. However, they’d come to an agreement. In return for temporarily living there, Leena watched over Eden—she was extremely distrustful of Darrak and demons in general, and her presence helped ease Eden’s mind a little bit when it came to him. Besides, there wasn’t much of a chance for forbidden romance with a third party lurking about in the small apartment.

  Not that she needed a chaperone for that. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t keep her hands off Darrak. Dreams were not indicative of reality.

  “Well?” Leena prompted after a moment passed.

  “Uh, it went okay last night,” Eden said, still disappointed they hadn’t talked to the wizard’s assistant. But Darrak had been right to leave. She didn’t want to meet any of his old demonic friends if she could help it. An unpleasant chill ran down her spine. “Could have been better, I suppose, but it was a start.”

  “And is there anything you want to tell . . . anyone?” Leena’s head bobbed in Darrak’s direction. He stood with his back braced against the fridge, eating his breakfast, watching their conversation carefully.

  Eden glanced at the egg-loving demon. “Uh . . . like what?”

  “You know,” Leena said pointedly. “About where you were going late last night?”

  “Late last night? What are you—?”

  “Gosh, would you look at the time?” Darrak interrupted, dumping his empty plate into the sink. “Eden, we really should go. Andy said he wanted to talk to you first thing this morning, remember? He used the word important, so obviously it must be important.”

  “Right.” Eden shook her head, trying to clear the early morning fog. Normally she was much more alert than this. “Hang on. I have to have my orange juice first.”

  Her morning rituals were important to her. She might not be in the mood for eggs, but she had to have her vitamin C. She quickly poured a glass and downed it in one gulp.

  Darrak eyed her. “Beat the threat of scurvy for another day?”

  “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.” She glanced at the shapeshifter. “I’ll talk to you later, Leena.”

  “Just remember that torch we talked about,” Leena said meaningfully, with a sideways glare at Darrak. “It needs to be extinguished ASAP. Trust me, it’ll make it easier on everyone involved.”

  What in the hell was she talking about? Had she been smoking some catnip this morning?

  Best to play along or they’d never get out of there. “Right. Extinguish the torch. I’m totally on it.”

  Eden grabbed her purse and headed for the door, which Darrak now held open.

  “Leena,” he said dryly. “A pleasure as always.”

  “Bite me, demon.”

  “Is that an invitation?”

  She morphed into her cat form, turned her back on him, and padded into Eden’s bedroom.

  Eden rolled her eyes. The two despised each other, but they hid it so well.

  When Darrak closed the door behind them, she turned to him. “What torch was she talking about?”

  “No idea. You seriously need to get rid of her.” His expression soured. “I think she has fleas. And she’s a trouble-maker.”

  “Takes one to know one.”

  “I don’t have fleas.”

  A glance down the hall showed that her new neighbor was leaving his apartment at the same time. He fumbled and dropped a ring of keys on the floor as well as a bag of something. Were those marbles?

  They scattered in all directions. He swore under his breath.

  Adjusting her purse strap, Eden knelt down and gathered up the small, colorful glass spheres that rolled toward her.

  “This is embarrassing,” the neighbor said. He was tall and attractive with wire-frame glasses perched over light brown eyes. He wore a blue suit and tie that managed to look more casual than businessy. He raked a hand through his short, shaggy brown hair.

  “What’s embarrassing about marbles?” Eden asked, smiling. “I used to play with them when I was . . . well, I was ten at the time, but I’m not here to judge.”

  “They’re actually not my marbles. I’m a teacher, and I’ve found simple rewards like these help to motivate students. Since I’m new here, I can use all the help I can get.”

  “So every student who answers a question . . .”

  “Wins a shiny marble. You’ve got it.” He grinned.

  “Welcome to the building. You just moved in, right?”

  “Two days ago.” He finished scooping the escaping marbles back into the little cloth bag he held, then extended his hand. “I’m Lucas Campbell.”

  She shook his hand. “Eden Riley. And this is . . . uh, Darrak.”

  “Charmed, I’m sure,” Darrak said, sounding bored. “Eden? Shall we go now?”

  “Nice meeting you, Lucas,” she said.

  “Yeah, you, too. I’m having a meet and greet in my apartment soon. Just a small thing. A couple bottles of wine and friendly neighborhood chat. Would the two of you be interested in coming?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe. Just let me know when.”

  “I’ll do that.” He glanced at his watch. “Got to get going. I’m late.”

  “Us, too.”

  They rode down in the elevator together. Lucas was right, these days people kept to themselves, apart from awkward small talk. But Eden wasn’t opposed to the idea of being more friendly with a neighbor. You never knew when you’d need to borrow a cup of sugar. Or ask them to ignore screaming and/or gunfire coming from within one’s apartment walls.

  One or the other.

  They parted ways outside, and Eden and Darrak drove to Triple-A Investigations, a small, one-room private investigation office on the outskirts of Toronto. It was right next door to the Hot Stuff café.

  Eden owned half the business because her mother had left it to her in her will. Caroline Riley hadn’t been a fabulous and attentive mother, but she’d been a great gambler and had soundly beaten Andy McCoy—now Eden’s partner—in a poker game to win part ownership in the agency. Eden had resisted working there because being a private investigator didn’t appeal to her at all. She didn’t have any experience in that line of work—after all, her last job had been as a telephone tarot card reader and occasional—very occasional—psychic consultant to the police.

  Recently, however, she’d started taking this opportunity more seriously. She wanted to help others if she could. Helping others made her happy. It was a totally selfish motivation, really.

  And if she could get paid for it, too, then all the better.

  “You seem chipper this morning,” Darrak commented as she pulled into her parking spot outside the office and shifted into park.

  She pulled down her visor mirror to double-check her makeup. “I’m feeling strangely optimistic today. We came close last night.”

  “Closer than you even realize.”

  “Do you think it’s safe to go back tonight, or will your friend still be there?”

  Darrak hesitated. “I think it’ll be fine.”

  He didn’t sound completely certain about that. “Do we have to worry about him?”

  That earned a smile. “We?”

  “What you’re worried about, I’m worried about.”

  “Then no. We don’t have to worry.”

  She nodded and pulled her purse onto her lap so she could drop her car keys into it. “So we’ll find this wizard’s assistant . . . does he have a name?”

  “Stanley. And he’ll be there. He’s there every night, apparently.”

  “Why does he hang out at a singles’ club so much?”

  “Because he’s horny and alone. Does he need more of
a reason?”

  “I guess not.”

  “Were you planning on getting out of the car today?” he asked.

  “It’s a distinct possibility.” She didn’t move for another few moments, though. Andy had been very adamant that they talk this morning, but he wouldn’t say what about. That worried her.

  Worry seemed to be her default setting lately.

  It was probably nothing.

  “Eden,” Andy greeted them as they entered the office. “We need to talk.”

  Maybe it wasn’t nothing.

  The brisk statement made Eden’s back stiffen. She was hiding so much from Andy that it was about time he naturally clued in on something. In fact, he shouldn’t have to clue in. She should just go ahead and tell him the truth.

  Like Darrak, for instance. Andy was under the mistaken impression that he was Eden’s brother. It might have something to do with the fact that Eden had introduced him that way. Andy was sharp, though. A former FBI-agent pushing fifty, with a fit, compact body, thinning blond hair, and keen eyes, he’d single-handedly run the agency by himself for years.

  When Eden realized she was possessed by a demon, the shock of this gave her enough concentrated energy to eject Darrak from her body, forcing him to take form for the first time in this office. That much psychic power helped create a “hot spot,” which helped to draw supernatural beings there like a magnet. Triple-A was now their private investigation agency of choice. Since even Others’ problems skewed toward the normal—cheating spouses, insurance fraud, missing persons—Andy wasn’t any the wiser about all the weird stuff going on there.

  Andy stood up from his chair and flattened his hands on the top of his desk as he stared at her for a long moment.

  “There’s weird stuff going on here, Eden,” he said.

  She gulped. “Weird stuff?”

  He nodded. “I don’t think it’s just my imagination. Look, I need to get this out and I need you to listen to me. Tell me if I’m crazy, okay?”

  Eden and Darrak exchanged a glance. “Uh . . . okay,” she said. “I really need some coffee, though. I’m desperate.”

  “Nancy’s bringing over a tray shortly from next door.” Andy also owned Hot Stuff, so one thing Triple-A never lacked was caffeine or high-caloric pastries.