Great Hexpectations, A Paranormal Romance / Urban Fantasy

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Great Hexpectations, A Paranormal Romance / Urban Fantasy Page 9

by H. P. Mallory

“It’s not like here, girl. It’s dangerous with a capital D.”

  “Have you been there, Dia?” I asked, wanting to cut directly to the chase because I needed to talk with someone who had first-hand experience. I could only hope Dia could tell me something I didn’t know.

  “No I haven’t and I sure as hell am not interested in any vacations to the Netherworld either, you hear me? If you were going to Mexico or Hawaii, I’d be on board, girl. But the Netherworld? Hells to the no, thank you.”

  I started chewing my lip as I realized it wouldn’t do me any good to pursue this conversation. I needed someone who had some knowledge of the Netherworld. “Dia, I’ve made up my mind.”

  “Girl, I know you made up your stubborn fairy head up about this but you need to know the risks before you go. You are not cut out for that place. It would chew you up and spit you out.”

  “I have no choice, D.”

  “You always have a choice.” Her voice was sharp, serious.

  I took a deep breath. “Dia, if Knight is found guilty, what will happen to him?”

  She didn’t respond right away. “I dunno.”

  “If there’s even the ghost of a chance he could end up rotting away in a cell somewhere, or something even worse, I would never forgive myself.”

  “So you would sacrifice yourself instead?” she demanded.

  “It’s not sacrificing myself,” I corrected her. “It’s me confessing something that is solely my responsibility and my fault.”

  “I get that, girl, but there was a reason Knight stood up for you. There was a reason he took this on his own shoulders. That fine man is not dumb and you know that.”

  “Okay…”

  “So imagine for a second what could happen to you.” She paused as if she were also trying to imagine the worst-case scenario. “Girl, I can’t even imagine it because I haven’t got a clue what could happen. But whatever does happen, it sure won’t be the end of it, Dulcie. Knight lied to the High Court and that is a serious offense, punishable in and of itself.”

  I nodded. I had already considered that. “I can’t imagine that that punishment would be any more severe than what he would face if he’s found guilty of allowing a criminal to escape.”

  “Be that as it may, Dulcie, the Netherworld is a combat zone. It’s not safe.” Then she sighed. “I don’t know what I’m worried about—there’s no way you could find the portal and more so, no way immigration would let you in. You need proper ANC identification and a passport.”

  Hmm, I hadn’t considered that. Technically, I was no longer employed by the ANC but I had a pretty good hunch I could just drum up one of my old badges somewhere. That wouldn’t be a problem. The passport could be tough though… But I wasn’t about to cave in just yet. “I can get all that.”

  “Knowing you, I imagine you could but that is just the half of it. You would not last one day there without a guide, Dulcie. It’s all warfare, creatures eating one another. It’s not civilized like it is here.”

  “How do you know all this if you’ve never been?”

  “Because I once ran border control on this side, girl, and I’ve seen and heard first count stories of the stuff going on there.”

  I smiled. “If you ran border control, that means you know where I could get a passport and ID?”

  She exhaled. “Damn girl, are you not listening to a word I’m saying?”

  “D, I’m going, whether you help me or not. I’m not asking you to be my escort because I need someone who knows the Netherworld and you’ve never been. But what I will ask you for, as a friend, is your help with the legal stuff.”

  She was silent and then she sighed which meant I’d won. “Sometimes I bemoan the day I first set eyes on you, Dulcie O’Neil.”

  I laughed. “Thank you, Dia.”

  “Honey, you be careful and you find someone who knows what the hell they’re doing, you got it?”

  “Yeah, I will,” I finished although I had no clue who that person might be. “Thanks, Dia.” She didn’t respond but didn’t hang up either so I had to imagine there was more. “Yes?”

  “I have a list of all the creatures who live in California but are natives of the Netherworld.” She said it like she was giving away a secret. Course, this was confidential information and she could have gotten in trouble just for letting me know she had such a list.

  I smiled wide. “Dia, have I told you lately that I love you?”

  “Yeah yeah, don’t give me any of that Rod Stewart bullcrap,” she said but there was a laugh hiding somewhere in her voice. “Just a minute while I pull this up on my computer.”

  “Okay.”

  She started singing. “…fill my heart with gladness…Oh, hell no, girl, you got that damn song stuck in my head.”

  I just laughed. It seemed like my day was looking up. Dia could handle the documents I needed and she could find me someone to serve as Netherworld tour guide. I had to admit, it was incredibly funny hearing the diva sing some shitty Rod Stewart song.

  “Mmm hmmm,” she said as I imagined she started recognizing names on her list of native Netherworld creatures. “Bingo,” she finished.

  “Who is it?” I asked as I lowered my feet from the coffee table and leaned forward.

  “Looks like a certain fang face who’s gotta thing for you, Dulcie girl.”

  I smiled broadly. This couldn’t have worked out any better. “Bram.”

  #

  No Regrets hadn’t fared badly after the introduction of its rival nightclub, Bliss. Tonight, there was a huge crowd on the dance floor, undulating to Kesha’s song, “Blow” and every booth was occupied. I pushed my way through the crowd, looking for Bram’s tall and handsome person but not seeing him, I strode up to the bar.

  As usual, Angela was bartender. Although I’d never had an issue with Angela in the past, she’d always been withdrawn. But I saw her as a strong woman whom I actually admired. Well, that was before she showed up at one of Bram’s events with Knight in tow. I later learned that she had the hots for him.

  “Hi, Angela,” I said, offering her a quick smile.

  “Dulcie,” she said in response, sans a smile. So playing it catty, are you?

  “I’m here to see Bram. Is he around?”

  She nodded towards Bram’s office which was at the rear of the building. A black light bathed the club in a weird, sporadic freeze frame and highlighted Angela’s banana-yellow, butch-short hair. Not a good look.

  I didn’t say anything more as I tapped the bar top in a strange rendition of “thanks and I’ll see you later” before starting for Bram’s office. I was somewhat surprised that Angela hadn’t tried to hightail it ahead of me, if only to ensure he wasn’t necking on some chick.

  I knocked on the door.

  “What?” Bram called out in a tone of fatigued irritation.

  “It’s Dulcie,” I yelled back.

  There was no response but within seconds, the door opened to reveal Bram, smiling graciously at me. Bram, as always, looked extremely handsome. His pitch-black hair and light blue eyes, along with a sharply defined but perfect nose and jawline. His height gives him an air of dignity and aloofness that says he doesn’t bother with trivialities. And the icing on the cake? His English accent is to die for.

  He held the door open for me as I entered, the sound of classical music pouring from his speakers in a jumble of loud and less than relaxing notes. He closed the door behind him and I felt swallowed up by the darkness.

  “Where are the lights?”

  Bram’s laugh was deep. “I can see in the dark, sweet. No reason for harsh glares.”

  “Well, I can’t,” I protested, finding myself almost screaming to compete with the music. “And what the hell are you listening to?”

  “Darling sweet, this is a Norwegian composer, Edvard Grieg—In the Hall of the Mountain King. Quite famous.” He flipped a switch and the lighting went from non-existent to dimly lit, bathing us in a yellowish hue. I’m sure it looked like I had jaundice.


  I shook my head. “You’re an enigma, Bram.”

  “And you, my delectable little package, are an aphrodisiac to my very senses.”

  The last thing I wanted was a long evening of rebutting Bram’s less than smooth advances. I needed to cut to the chase. It wasn’t like I had a lot of time. “I need your help, Bram.”

  He smiled, displaying his fangs. “I find I quite enjoy your being in need of my assistance, sweet.”

  I frowned. “I’m sure you do.”

  “And what can I assist you with this eve? Perhaps you would care to remove your jacket in favor of comfort?”

  Before I could respond, he was behind me, peeling my jacket from my shoulders until he had it in his hands. He deftly draped it over the back of one of his chairs. Then he ran his long fingers down the naked skin of my shoulders and upper arms until I got goose bumps. He didn’t back away but stood behind me and leaning into my neck, inhaled deeply.

  “I am always hopeful, my dear.”

  “Of what?” I asked as I quickly withdrew from him, turning around to face him.

  He opened his eyes and smiled at me. “I am always hopeful that whenever you are beside me, my desire for you will be less consuming than it has been on previous meetings; and, yet, I find such is never the case.”

  “Oh,” I didn’t know what else to say. Sometimes I wished I’d had sex with Bram so he would have gotten over this stupid crush a long time ago. And I’m pretty sure Bram would agree with me.

  “How can I help you, my beautiful friend?”

  I glanced around his office, eyeing the black and white motif of his furniture and carpeting. I looked down at his leather couch and back up at him. “May I?”

  He nodded. “Of course.”

  I sat down and he seated himself beside me. I took a deep breath and swiveled to face him. “What’s your history with the Netherworld, Bram?”

  He seemed taken aback. “The Netherworld?” he repeated.

  “When was the last time you were there?”

  He was silent and seemed to be reliving the past in his mind, pulling up memories that were probably long since buried. It wasn’t surprising because Bram was over three centuries old.

  “It has been over one hundred years since I last stepped foot on Netherworld soil, sweet.”

  I swallowed and glanced down at my folded hands in my lap. Over one hundred years was a long ass time. Maybe I needed a more up-to-date guide?

  “Why do you ask?”

  I glanced at him. “I need a guide, Bram.”

  “A guide?” he repeated.

  “I have to go to the Netherworld and I don’t want to go alone.”

  Bram’s expression was non-existent and seconds later he exploded into a raucous laugh, throwing his head back with the effort.

  “This isn’t a joke,” I said with no smile.

  He stopped laughing and faced me. “You must forget this foolish errand, sweet.”

  I stood up and glared back at him. “If you won’t help me, I’ll find someone who will.”

  He stood and grasped my hand, pulling me into the breadth of his chest. “If I were to accept your proposition, may I expect a reward?”

  I didn’t pull away. I knew too well that I had to play his game if I wanted to get my way. “I could pay you.” Even as the words left my mouth, I wasn’t sure what I would pay him with. My bank account wasn’t exactly something to boast about…

  “I am not interested in your money.”

  “Bram, you and I have a good arrangement. You know I could bust you for some of your less than legal transactions.”

  “You have attempted to use this argument on me before, sweet. We both know that only I can offer you information that is more than… valuable.”

  Damn, I should have known better. Bram was a formidable foe or ally, any way you looked at it. And that meant I was fresh out of ideas.

  “I will deliver a letter of my demands, should you choose to hire me as your guardian,” he said as he pushed away from me. “If you accept, you merely sign the letter and if you do not, we shall continue our awkward friendship.”

  I just shook my head—I didn’t want to touch the awkward friendship line. But as to the letter of demands...“Last I checked we weren’t still living in the eighteen hundreds.”

  “I must be mindful of my own needs when dealing with you, Dulcie sweet.”

  I nodded and took a deep breath. “Okay, you have a deal but I need your answer quickly. I have to do this and I have to do it immediately.”

  Bram merely nodded. “You will have your letter of demands this very evening, before midnight. Does that suit you?”

  I glanced at my watch. Midnight was three hours away. I could wait that long. I looked up at him again. “Yes, that will do.”

  “Very well,” he said, slapping his hands together. “I must start my letter.”

  I laughed and took a few steps toward the door but his hand on my arm prevented me from leaving.

  “One last item to discuss,” he started.

  “What?”

  He eyed me suspiciously. “What business calls you to the Netherworld?”

  I debated whether or not to tell him for all of three seconds. “Knight was apprehended by the ANC for something he didn’t do.”

  Bram just continued to eye me. “Something you did?”

  I just nodded.

  “Perhaps you should weigh the potential outcomes of your actions. The Netherworld is not an easy place in which to be a criminal, sweet. Is it not better to allow the Loki to suffer for your transgressions?”

  I felt my cheeks color. The articulate way he said it made it sound even worse. “Absolutely not. It’s my responsibility.”

  “I do not understand your great sense of morality and justice, Dulcie sweet, though I do admire it. And as to the Loki…” He sighed. “I will relish the day when the Loki is no longer your primary concern.”

  I wondered if that day would ever come.

  #

  If nothing else, Bram was true to his word. At ten minutes to midnight, there was a knock on my door. I opened it to find a youngish Lamia staring back at me. Lamias belong to the shape shifter family, similar to weres only Lamias morph into lions. I was surprised to find that Bram would have a Lamia in his employ because they are notoriously difficult to manage and rumored to be dangerous, since it was general knowledge that they delight in causing pain. They also possess the ability to drain information from their victims by simply staring at them, which was probably why Bram kept one in his employ. Like I said, Bram couldn’t always be found on the right side of the law. Luckily, this Lamia was wearing sunglasses—probably Bram’s way of saying I was safe.

  He said nothing to me, merely handing me Bram’s letter which was folded in thirds and sealed with red wax.

  “Ridiculous,” I muttered while I slipped my finger under the wax and broke the seal, unfolding the letter. It read:

  Dear Ms. O’Neil:

  This is a demand letter. If you agree to abide by each and every one of the following conditions, please sign your name at the close of the letter and I shall happily act as your escort through the Netherworld.

  Yours,

  Bram

  Demands: All mandatory.

  Once in the Netherworld and throughout our time there:

  1. For as many nights as we are travel companions, we shall share the same bedroom and bed; and

  2. When you dress or undress, you shall do so under my gaze; and

  3. I am allowed to touch you at my discretion and as many times as it pleases me; and

  4. You will deliver me one kiss a day (the French sort with tongue); and,

  5. You must discourage the lust of another man (I believe you refer to this as “flirting”); and, finally,

  6. Upon our return to Splendor, you consent to dine with me five times (you must dress in something no longer than three inches above your knees and the top of which outfit should extend into a low v, whereby I can
clearly delineate your cleavage)

  If you accept the aforesaid conditions, please sign and date below.

  I dropped my hand which was holding the letter and scoffed at the Lamia. “Is he serious?”

  The creature just shrugged and acted as if he had no idea what I was talking about. Good thing he had those sunglasses on or he could have just extracted any information he wanted. Course, then he’d have to deal with Bram and suffer the consequences.

  “Just a minute,” I said as I stomped into my living room, grabbing the phone. I dialed No Regrets and told myself to calm down.

  “Thank you for calling No Regrets,” someone muttered on the other side.

  “Bram please. This is Dulcie.”

  Silence on the other end followed by elevator music as they transferred me.

  “Dulcie,” Bram’s voice was sickening sweet, as if he were completely unaware of how absurd his list of demands was.

  “Is this some sort of joke?” I insisted.

  “I know not of what you speak,” he said, trying his best to sound innocent.

  “Your demand letter. It’s absolutely ridiculous.”

  He sighed. “If you do not accept my terms, sweet, do not sign it, my darling.”

  “But if I don’t, you won’t come with me to the Netherworld.”

  “It appears you have grasped the rules of this arrangement quite well, sweet.”

  It was my turn to sigh. “Why are things never easy with you?”

  “I often say the same of you, my dear.”

  I held the letter up to my face again. “I need to rewrite a few of the terms.”

  “Such as?”

  I glanced at demand number one, about sharing a bed. “We can share a bed but I will not be expected to have sex with you.”

  “Very well. Add it as an addendum, darling.”

  “Where is this ‘darling’ shit coming from?” I barked. “It’s incredibly annoying, so cut it out.”

  “What is the next item you wish to negotiate?” he asked in a bored tone.

  “When I dress and undress I have to do so in front of you? Only after I’ve put on my panties and bra.”

  “No.”

  “Bram, there is no way…”

 

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