A Shade of Midnight

by Renee George

  “Like an incubus?”

  “Well, demons aren’t real, but there is speculation that all myths and legends have an origin in other worlder evolution.”

  “Other worlder?”

  She was talking too much. Telling too much. Eric obviously had no clue about who he really was or where he came from. He’d survived in the human world without any issues, and Mina knew she was borrowing trouble by telling him about OWs. Besides, leiols were horrible, nasty creatures. Good-looking, sexy as hell, but they also ate human flesh. Eric didn’t look like wanted to eat her. At least not in a way that would leave a mark. Rawr. No, she chided herself. BFF’s bro. No rawr.

  “You don’t seduce women just so you can eat their hormone saturated flesh afterward, do you?”

  Eric’s eyes widened, his expression slightly horrified. “That’s gross.”

  “Good. Forget what I said then. You’re a nice normal human.” She smiled. “Just like me.”

  “Thanks for agreeing to be my date,” he said.

  “No need to thank me. We’re family.” Though she was decidedly having un-familial thoughts about Eric. Mina shook her head and grabbed her blue Coach clutch—small enough to be feminine, but large enough to carry lip gloss, a credit card, ID, some cash, and a sub-compact Beretta. 9mm, of course. “Now, before we go, there are some ground rules that have to be established.”

  He nodded and even that looked sexy.

  “Cut that shit out.”

  Eric smoothed his hair, his eyes going all bedroom GQ. “Cut what out?”

  “That.” She pointed to his adorable face. “Okay. Pay attention,” she told him, shaking her head to clear her hormone-addled thoughts. “Hand holding’s fine, slow dancing is negotiable, but there will be absolutely no touching of any body parts covered by this dress.” Of course, even the touching of uncovered body parts might not be a good idea.

  “Absolutely,” he agreed, but his emerald eyes sparkled with mischief.

  So the red dress didn’t cover much, but her intent was still clear. No touchy. She grabbed her wrap and linked arms with him. “This is a favor for your sister, buddy. Nothing else.” Even if her body disagreed.

  “Okay, Mina.” He winked. “Got it.”

  She adjusted one of her shoes, and they headed out. In the hallway, the door opened to 37B. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Gav hadn’t looked so damn good—tight black jeans and a black T-shirt to match. She glanced at Eric. What was it with men in black? Well, to be fair these two fellas would’ve looked good in brown paper bags.

  “Hello, Gavriil.” He hated to be called Gavriil.

  He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Mina.” He looked at Eric then back to her. “You babysitting tonight?”

  Mina’s face went hot. Eric grabbed her hand and kissed it gently, all the while watching Gav. One tiny little gesture that nearly sent her into a frenzy wanting to strip off his clothes and knock boots right in the hallway—with both of them.

  She forced herself to calm down and caressed Eric’s face. “Best gig I ever got.” That slapped the smug right out of Gav. She waved at him as they walked away. “Ta-ta, Gavriil.”

  His apartment door slammed shut by the time the elevator door opened. Mina and Eric tumbled into the carriage laughing. “Thanks,” she said to Eric.

  “Ex-boyfriend?”

  “Ex-something,” she murmured. He put his arm around her, and for a moment, she snuggled in, but she quickly came to her senses and put a few feet between them. “Hey, now. The rules still stand as prearranged.”

  Eric smiled and went obediently to his corner of the elevator.

  “And stop smiling!”

  * * * *

  Jesus, that fucking woman! Gav seethed with jealousy and anger, and beneath that lust. Something in the man she was with had triggered an almost primal reaction in him. He’d felt his skin ripple with the first signs of shifting. His animal side wanted to screw anything and everything that moved. It was only his rage that kept him from doing the unthinkable. Lose control. That guy had to be an other worlder, but what kind, Gav couldn’t say. His reaction to the man’s scent had been intensely, almost painfully, physical.

  As it was, he had more important things to worry about. Like a sadistic butcher. The murder on the plaza baffled Gav. He’d never seen the likes of it before. The victim, a male in his late forties, had been skinned from head to toe. The crime scene techs were thorough, and the killer hadn’t even left a hair follicle behind. His sense of smell wasn’t as developed as a werewolf’s but it was well-honed. He picked up faint odors beneath the blood and rot of the corpse. Ash, copper, and some kind of sweet floral scent. Maybe Plumeria, but he couldn’t be certain without further tests.

  Was this crime other worlder? Again, maybe. There were too many questions to be certain about the answers.

  His phone rang. It was Doctor Azan, the pathologist. “What you got for me, Doc?”

  “I dyed the wound on the back of the head. I’m sending you a picture. I don’t know what he was hit with, but I thought maybe you might be able to find out.”

  “Thanks. You think it is…”

  “Other worlders,” Azan said. “Likely. I don’t see a human skinning someone with this kind of precision.”

  Azan was a dagar, the equivalent of what humans thought to be an elf, but he didn’t have pointy ears or pale blond hair or shiny braids. Nor did he go around with a longbow shooting orcs from the back of mutant pigs. That was strictly fiction. He was, however, an educated and keen observer.

  A double beep notified him of an incoming text. Gav pulled the phone from his ear and looked down at the screen. It was a crisscross pattern. He put the phone back to his ear. “That looks like the same pattern from that young woman on the docks last month.”

  “Good eye,” said Azan.

  Shit. “Thanks again, Doc. Call me if you find out anything more.”

  “Will do.”

  Chapter 4

  The standard stuffed-shirt CEOs and their plastic-faced trophy wives filled the Heston Hotel’s ballroom. The way these rich and powerful people treated Eric made Mina feel like she was on the job. He was a minor celebrity in these circles. Apparently he was the youngest person to ever make vice president at Samson Technologies, a Fortune-500 company, located downtown Kansas City, and the party was to celebrate his promotion.

  The place was decked out to the nines: Crystal centerpieces, ice sculptures, champagne fountains, and a live orchestra playing soft classical music. Eric and Mina were ushered to the head table shortly after they arrived—cameras clicking left and right.

  “I’d have worn my good dress if I’d known we were going to be in the spotlight all evening,” she said.

  “You’re gorgeous.” He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. The light brush of lips just about melted her panties. Twenty flashes went off simultaneously.

  Sheesh.

  Mina took her seat and looked at the cloth folded into an elaborate flower. Pretty. Mina flattened and put it on her lap. “I’m used to guarding the public spectacles, not being the spectacle. I don’t like it.”

  “Sorry. I should have warned you.”

  His expression told a different story. He seemed very pleased with himself, and she could feel his triumph. Why did he look like everything was going as planned? She wondered, what exactly was the plan?

  A silver-haired man in a well-tailored tux walked to their table. A blonde woman in her forties, pretty in an Nicole Kidman way, but with big breasts—probably fake—was draped on his arm.

  Eric stood, and they shook hands. “Mr. Albright.”

  “Call me John. After all, you’re a partner now.” The older man smiled. “No one deserves it more. The way you beat Taz Industries at their own game was a thing of beauty to witness.”

  He laughed, and Eric smiled. “Thank you, John.”

  Albright gestured to the woman on his arm. “You remember my wife, Kathleen?”

  “Of course,” Eric said. H
e kissed Kathleen’s hand. “Lovely to see you again, Mrs. Albright.”

  “Please, call me Kitty.” She smiled at Eric with a fair amount of appreciation. “I’m flattered you remembered me.”

  Her hand lingered in his just a little too long. Mina felt the intense desire the older woman projected at Eric. She tried to shield herself from it, but she couldn’t. It had to be Eric’s leiol pheromones interfering with her ability. She wanted to tell him to take it down a notch, but maybe he didn’t know how to turn it off.

  Eric broke contact with Kitty, and the lust rolling off Kitty significantly decreased. Even more so, when he drew Kitty Albright’s attention to Mina. “This is Mina Vail, my date.”

  John Albright took her hand. “A pleasure to meet you, my dear.”

  Mrs. Albright leaned over and lightly kissed her cheek. “Nice to meet you, Mina. What an unusual and lovely name.” Her smile was tight and phony, and the jealousy she telegraphed toward Mina was heavy enough to knock out an elephant.

  “Come along, Kitty,” Albright said. “We’ve mandatory mingling to attend.” He looked at Eric. “We’ll talk later, Bishop.”

  After the Albrights had left, Mina and Eric settled back down to the table. Mina clawed the air. “Meow.”

  “What?”

  “That Kitty is a real feline.”

  Eric brushed a piece of lint from his sleeve. “Kathleen?”

  “Oh, it’s Kathleen now?”

  Cocking his head to the side, he gazed at her. Those jeweled-green eyes of his were startlingly clear and innocent with just the hint of the devil. Much to her dismay, Mina felt uncomfortably female. Eric raised an eyebrow and asked charmingly, “Just what type of man do you think I am?”

  Mina was just about to tell him exactly what type she thought he was, but they were interrupted. A middle-aged guy, medium height, graying at the temples, and in a classic tux with bow tie, stood next to the table. He cleared his throat. “Bishop.”

  Eric stood and took the man’s hand in a firm shake. “Wilson.”

  “Congratulations on the promotion.” The gentleman gave the appearance of control, but his real feelings washed over Mina in angry waves. So far the night had proven a veritable cornucopia of intense emotions. In other words, an empath’s nightmare.

  Straightening the back of his jacket, Eric sat down. “Thank you.”

  She expected a backlash of anger, irritation—something from Eric toward the older man, but nothing. Right then, Mina realized she couldn’t read him, at least not beyond the lust his other side emitted. There was no strong anything from Eric toward Wilson, and she cursed herself for being too blinded by her own hormones to notice before.

  Wilson glanced at Mina then back to Eric. “Your date is beautiful.”

  His date can hear you. Not that you’re really paying attention, she thought.

  “Yes, she is,” Eric agreed, never taking his eyes off Mr. Classic Tux. Since it was apparent that she wasn’t going to be introduced, she offered her hand to the unhappy man. “Mina. Mina Vail.”

  Wilson lightly took it. “Samuel Wilson.” He leaned forward and kissed her knuckles. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Vail.” A pen fell out of his breast pocket and rolled onto the table. Eric picked it up and gave it back to him.

  Wilson smiled at Eric, but it wasn’t a happy smile by any means. “Good luck, Bishop,” he said as a way of parting. Mina thought it was an odd thing to say.

  “That man doesn’t like you very much.”

  Eric shrugged. “You’re not wrong.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “He’s been working with the company for eleven years. I’ve been with them for one year. He’s an associate. I’m a new partner.” He shrugged again. “No great mystery there.”

  She leaned back in her chair and took a sip of champagne. “Why you?”

  “Why me what?”

  “Why make you a partner and not him?”

  “Oh, that.” He waved his hand as if shooing a fly. “I’m very good at my job. He isn’t.”

  “Then how does he keep his job?”

  “He’s okay with basic mid-level sales. But he has no vision for the high-end market.” He rubbed his face. “Look, I’m not interested in talking about Samuel Wilson.”

  “But…” Mina shook her head. “Never mind.” Hey, if he didn’t want to talk about it, who was she to push?

  Eric looked relieved. A slow waltz played in the ballroom. He stood up and offered his hand. “Care to dance?”

  Mina was annoyed that he wouldn’t answer her questions, but she found herself moving to the dance floor with him anyway.

  * * * *

  She was here. For Aalia, that fact overrode all other plans, including those of the Children of Caledon. Ten years ago, killing her twin sister had been a terrible task, but necessary, for her transcendence. Only then could she free her kind from the yoke of this mortal existence. Despite what anyone else thought, her actions had been an act of love.

  Aurals had once been revered as gods and goddesses in Ancient Egypt. They were born to lead mankind, to transform, not to be used as pawns in the power plays of others. According to the Book of Qetesh, a familial blood sacrifice would trigger the second evolution, a true embodiment of Qetesh, the mistress of the gods. That’s why she’d chosen her identical twin. Only killing Malia had not brought the second evolution.

  Through a twisted act of fate, her niece had been presented to her. She thought the child dead, but no, she’d integrated into the human world.

  Mina Vail.

  She watched the young woman dance with Eric Bishop, her smooth, rhythmic movements were utterly graceful. She looked so much like her mother, dark hair, warm brown eyes, and elegant beauty, but she had her father’s pale skin and his height. A knot formed in her stomach, as an overwhelming feeling of loss and regret seized her. She clenched her fist and pressed it below her ribs. Sentiment was the weakness of fools and slaves.

  Aalia would be neither.

  She felt a hand on her back. Aalia turned and masked her annoyance with a smile. “Hello, Samuel.”

  “You are looking particularly lovely tonight, Aalia,” Samuel Wilson said. “I’m a lucky man.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  He glanced at the dance floor, and Aalia knew he was jealous of Eric Bishop. The young man, of leiol origin, had managed to use charm and talent to rapidly rise in the company. Tonight’s party was a testament to his ability. Samuel, on the other hand, was a third-rate lackey, but he’d helped Aalia get close to the money at Samson Technologies. The Children needed financing to take their war against Caledon and its new queen to the next level. War cost more than lives, and Aalia’s ability as an aural and empath had made her a valuable asset.

  She didn’t need Samuel anymore, thank Qetesh. Her human husband was boring and pathetic. Besides, she had another man in the company, one with more influence, on a shorter leash. But Bishop was smart, and he’d already asked about some discrepancies in a few accounting files. She’d already made a plan to rid herself of both men. Mina or not, she would follow through tonight.

  * * * *

  Eric danced as if he’d been born to it—effortless. Mina concentrated on everyone else except Eric to keep her knees from buckling as he held her in his arms.

  Through the crowd, she noticed Wilson at the bar talking to a man in his mid-thirties, early forties, with a white streak going along the right side of his dark brown hair. The man looked scruffy and out of place. Wilson’s face turned red as the conversation grew heated. Mina didn’t know why, but she was intrigued by the scene.

  Wilson waved his hand in a dismissive gesture and started to walk away. The other man grabbed Wilson’s arm. They exchanged a less than friendly look before a woman with long, dark hair to the middle of her back and wearing an ivory dress that complimented her light mocha skin interrupted the pair. Wilson appeared even more agitated, but he backed off. The woman put her hand on Wilson, and his expressio
n relaxed.

  “Earth to Mina,” she heard Eric say.

  “Yeah?”

  “What’s going on? You haven’t heard a word I’ve said.”

  She pointed to the man with the white streak in his hair. “Who’s that?”

  Eric shrugged. “Dunno. He looks familiar, but not anyone I can place.”

  “And the woman with Wilson?” There was something familiar about her, but Mina couldn’t quite nail where she’d seen her before.

  “Jennifer,” Eric said. “His wife.”

  A man in a white tux, mid-fifties—handsome in that Sean Connery older but distinguished sort of way—went to the bar and began to talk to the man with the white patch. “Who’s that with him now?”

  “Him?” Eric pointed to the white-tux guy. “That’s Tobias Tolliver. He’s one of the senior partners at the firm.”

  Tolliver leaned over and said something into the man’s ear. The man nodded and left the bar.

  Eric swung Mina around then dipped her as the waltz ended, one hand on her back, the other in her right palm, while an invisible hand trailed from the center of her chest to her stomach. It startled her enough that her feet slipped on the floor, but he held strong and leaned close while she was still in a vulnerable slant. “All this attention you’re directing at everyone else is making me feel neglected.”

  She grabbed his arms and pulled herself upright. “Poor baby.” Mina started back to the table. Eric followed. Six women made goo-goo eyes at him before they got back to their chairs. He made eye contact and smiled at every single one of them—the bastard.

  Eric gave her an odd look. “Something wrong?”

  Mina rolled her eyes. “Why me?” It wasn’t rhetorical.

  “Why you what?”

  “Your date canceled?” Mina shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  He put his hand to his chest and did that little mock surprise thing Mina hated so much. “Are you accusing me of conspiracy?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Would you believe that I’ve had a mad crush on you since the moment I found out girls were spice and everything nice, so I took this opportunity to try and impress you. Are you impressed?”