Poison and Potions: a Limited Edition Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection

by Erin Hayes

  "Yes, Mr. Hannock," the giant replied.

  Noah was satisfied. He waved the man away and lifted the device again to read. Page six held a scintillating piece of gossip needing his undivided attention.

  At promptly twelve noon Noah found himself outside The Algonquin, clutching even more flowers and the Tiffany’s box. He approached the service desk and slipped a fifty to the man behind the counter to direct him to Prudence’s room. It was like child’s play.

  He sauntered down the hallway and knocked on her door gently. When she opened it, he gasped. The women was even more beautiful today than she‘d been yesterday. She wore tight spandex shorts and a tank top that barely covered her flat stomach.

  "Mr. Hannock, what an unpleasant surprise."

  "Oh, come now, my dear, it can’t be all unpleasant. I told you I was coming in my card with the flower arrangement I sent this morning," he said, stepping forward so she had to allow him access to her room.

  She gestured at her wastepaper basket holding the bouquet of white lilies like a vase. "You mean those flowers? I’m sorry, but I didn’t get a chance to take a look at the card."

  She turned away from him. He followed, taking in every detail of her hotel room. Her Reaper was in the adjoining dining parlor, dressed in similar workout attire. "Did I interrupt something?" Noah asked.

  "My life, you mean?" she quipped, as she sat down at a small table by the door to take a drink of water.

  "I meant..." He pointed to the Reaper in the other room.

  "We were just sparring."

  "You spar with a Reaper? Do you have a death wish?"

  "The opposite actually. Can I help you?"

  Noah took a deep breath and sank to his knees on the plush beige carpet. "My dear, my sincerest apologies for last night. I was taking some of that drug. I don’t abuse it regularly, mind you, and I was clumsy. I must have dropped some in your drink by accident. It was a negligible amount. I didn’t think you’d even have a reaction."

  The girl met his eyes with a cold stare and tilted her head toward the box he clutched.

  Noah could barely contain his smile. Jewels always did the trick. He opened the lid and displayed its contents to her and she gasped loud enough to bring her Reaper over to them.

  She waved him off, then reached into the box and touched the sparkling pendant.

  Noah rose to his feet. "Allow me." He circled around to her back and lifted the diamond-encrusted chain from its box. It was weighty, but the best pieces always were. He looped it around her neck and clasped it under her ponytail.

  She reached to touch the sapphire as it nestled in the hollow of her throat. "I have to see this," she said, moving to the mirror by the door. She sighed as she tilted her head to the side to look at her bejeweled reflection.

  He knew he had her. Not a woman alive could resist jewels.

  "Mr. Hannock, I believe I accept your apology," she said, still staring into the mirror.

  He approached her from behind and rested his hands on her shoulders.

  She met his eyes in the glass, then turned around. "I do believe you should call me Prue. It’s what my friends call me, anyway."

  He held her gaze as he bent, lifted her hand, and kissed it. "It would be my pleasure. And please call me Noah."

  She gave him a sweet smile. One she had to know would curl his toes. It surprised him even more that he had a reaction to it. "Now then, Prue. How about we have a nice cup of tea?"

  She lifted her hand from his grasp and stalked toward her closet. "Just let me freshen up, please."

  He inclined his head and took the vacant seat at the small dinette where she’d previously sat. "I’ll just converse with your...friend."

  A snort came from behind him, and he knew it would be a rather short conversation.

  The spray of a shower caught his attention after sitting in near silence for a few moments. What would the water look like sliding down her back? If he hadn’t been caught at the party he might be joining her under the hot spray.

  The Reaper bumped his chair as he passed on his way to the small kitchen and got a glass of water. He met the man’s eyes and looked away quickly. Damn. He’d forgotten born Reapers could read thoughts and emotions.

  "I’m not sure if we met last night," Noah said. "My name is Noah Hannock."

  "Mikon."

  "How much do you bench press, might I ask? You look like you regularly lift tanks."

  Noah kept his mind peacefully blank as he spoke so the Reaper would have no idea if he were sincere or not.

  "I don’t usually do a lot of bench press. Mostly boxing."

  "Ah, the gentlemen’s sport," Noah said, as he crossed his legs and settled in.

  "If you say so, man."

  Mikon sat in a chair at a forty-five-degree angle to him.

  "How long have you worked for Prue?" Noah asked.

  "A few months. Why do you ask?"

  "Just curious. Where did she find you? I’ve been looking into bringing a born Reaper into my organization. You guys are tough to find."

  Mikon nodded.

  "The other kind are just too much to have around in polite company and, besides, I don’t really want church people in my business ventures."

  "What sort of business are you in, Mr. Hannock?"

  "Noah, please. I do mostly real estate and some high value item acquisitions for top-tier clients."

  "I’m afraid I don’t know anything about that, Noah," Mikon said, elongating his name as if he were tasting it. "I’ve been on the run most of my life. I didn’t want to work for the church and I’m sure you know the pressure of having to tell them no."

  Noah nodded, still maintaining a perfectly blank mind. Until the shower shut off and the image of Prue’s naked body flashed in his head. He cleared his throat and shifted to distract Mikon. "Do you think the church will end the Reaper program? I hear there’s unrest there. People not agreeing with the way they are punished."

  Mikon pursed his lips. "I don’t know, to be honest. I myself think it perfectly justified, I just don’t want to mix with those criminals." Mikon shrugged like it was an obvious thing.

  "I heard once that Reapers can see into a person’s soul, into the very heart of who they are. Can you do that to other Reapers?" Noah almost wished he could take the question back, but he didn’t often get conversation time with one of them and his curiosity got the better of him.

  When he answered, the Reaper’s voice was deeper, lower. "That’s a very personal question, Noah. But, yes. I can see into a Reaper’s soul, the same way I see into anyone’s. I see their sins, their fears, and the deep twisted motives that drive them."

  Noah swallowed. The midnight voice was nothing to go up against. If he didn’t know better, he would have said the temperature in the room had dropped.

  The bathroom door opened, and Noah stood as Prue exited in a cloud of steam. She wore deep navy cigarette cut jeans and a red button-down tunic. Her soul-mark was covered by the long sleeves but he didn’t mind. He’d gotten a perfectly good look at it last night and, provided nothing happened to her before he could seal the deal, he didn’t need to look at it again.

  "Did you call for tea?" she asked, toweling the long mass of her hair.

  He jerked in surprise. He hadn’t even thought.

  "I’ll do it," Mikon said, before returning to the dining parlor.

  He heard the Reaper’s low voice on the phone as Prue took the seat across from him at the table that Mikon vacated.

  "The service here is excellent. It shouldn’t take them but a moment," she said.

  He merely nodded, all his attention focused on her small fingers as she gently squeezed the water from the tresses with a towel. It had to be one of the most erotic sights he’d ever encountered. The crimson strands stood out perfectly against the plush white towel and Noah realized he could sit there and watch her for hours. She removed the towel after a moment, slipped a circular hair tie from her wrist and began to gather the mass up into a bun. />
  Noah almost groaned aloud. "Please don’t. Would you leave it down for me? I love how wild it is. Women’s hair fashions these days are so severe and styled. I absolutely love how free yours is."

  She grinned, color rushing to her cheeks as she let the hair fall down her back in a red kinky wet wave.

  Noah had enjoyed intimate fantasies the previous night about her hair. He wanted to wrap his hands in it and enjoy her yelps of pain as he did any number of naughty things to her body. No woman in a long time had affected him so. He was enjoying himself more and more with each passing minute he spent with her.

  The tea arrived in less than ten minutes and Mikon made himself scarce, slipping out the hotel room door as Prue directed the room service personnel. The young man expertly set up the tea on the table between them, and Noah tipped him before he could wheel the cart back out.

  Prue poured the tea. "How do you take it?" she asked.

  "Three sugars and a little milk, please." He watched her precise movements. This woman was not ordinary. She had a meticulous way about her and it was something he needed to be wary of as his plan progressed. There were often small factors people like her noticed even when love and lust were involved.

  "Will you accompany me to the theater this weekend?" Noah asked, as he brought the china cup to his lips.

  "What’s playing?"

  "I’m not sure. I’ll have to check, but I know that, regardless, I need to see you as often as you will allow."

  She laughed, a dainty tinkle, before taking a sip of her own tea. "I’d love to accompany you. Maybe you can tell me more about your business ventures in the city. I heard you handle some real estate. I’m looking for an Upper East Side apartment for myself." She motioned around the room. "The hotel is beautiful but I need more space. I wish to unpack my things and spend some time away from that ghastly Reaper."

  Noah wrinkled his nose. "Does he stay here with you?"

  She pursed her lips as if she was debating on how much to share with him. "He does, but he sleeps on a mat in the other room. I suggested getting his own room adjacent but he thinks that would be a dereliction of duty. He swore to my late benefactor that he would protect me and takes that oath very seriously."

  Noah knew all about Reapers and oaths. Yes, he did.

  Chapter Eleven

  Two weeks passed with Noah paying close court to Connie and she was beyond tired of the man. Every time she was with him her skin crawled as she went over in her mind all the things he’d done to get where he was. How many women had he tricked into loving him? How many people's lives had he destroyed via blackmail? She would wager it was a lot more than even the church knew about. He would start talking about a new business venture and all she wanted to do was punch him in the face.

  Things with Mikon weren’t great either. After the kiss and the tentative soul-mate he’d become distant, citing it wasn’t worth risk of losing Noah. Her job was to hook him; Mikon’s was leaving him soulless. End of discussion.

  She still missed the banter when they sparred. Now, when they did fight it was in virtual silence. Her soul-mark hadn’t changed anymore either. Small mercies.

  Connie sat on her bed with the tab open on her lap. She wanted more information about the underground business ventures Noah had. All she’d been privy to so far were his above board places. If she could get the information, then they could take out his empire along with him.

  So far she’d played the dutiful heiress to perfection, but when he picked her up for their date in a couple of hours she was going to suggest something more intimate, a little more wild. Let him think she lusted for a taste of the uncanny. There would need to be some persuasion. She’d have to dress the part.

  Connie eyeballed the little black dress hanging on the armoire across from her. When she’d brought it back to the room Mikon had fairly scowled at it. It was a long tube, with sheer lace panels which bared the sides of her breasts and thighs to public view. He had compelled her to buy a trench coat to wear over it.

  Mikon walked into the room from the hall and Connie jumped out of her skin. He looked like he’d been fighting a rhino. He had bruises on his forearms and his clothes were sweat soaked.

  "What were you doing?" she asked, staring at him..

  He shrugged. "Just working out."

  "You were gone for three hours."

  "Are you keeping tabs on me now?" he snapped, as he sat on his own bed to untie his shoes.

  His words stung. Connie had no idea why he was being such a dick to her lately. Making a little distance between them was fine, but she wasn’t going to put up with him sniping at her all the time. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, hands already on her waist as she approached him. "Listen, I don’t know what your problem is, but you have no right to speak to me like that."

  He looked up slowly when she’d finished, and then stood to tower over her, but she didn’t back down.

  "Don’t you know why I’ve been so snippy?"

  She crossed her arms under her breasts and raised an eyebrow. There had better be a good reason, and PMS wasn’t going to cut it.

  "Every time I look at you, every time you speak, even when you move." He bent over and clutched his knees for a moment before straightening back up. "All I can feel is your body in my hands, your lips on my mouth, your taste. I can’t get you out of my head. I’m not trying to take my frustration out on you. I’m just trying to make it through the day and finish this job."

  Anger began to well inside her chest, a deep burning ache right over her heart. "You don’t think this is hard for me too? You don’t wonder how I feel at all? I’m the one who has to pretend to like this creep and not like you."

  He shook his head. "It’s not the same, Constance. You don’t have a vow to keep."

  He did not just say that! "Oh, that’s right, I didn’t make a vow and yet...somehow I am still keeping yours."

  She threw up her hands and stalked back over to her own space.

  How could he think this whole thing was easy for her? Just because she could go out and screw any man she wanted didn’t mean the whole situation wasn’t her problem as well. The nerve of him to think he meant to so little, that she threw herself on men often enough a little kissing and some almost soul mating didn’t affect her.

  "Constance," he said. Her name almost a plea.

  She looked back over to him from staring at the wall. Tears burned at the corner of her eyes, but she willed them to stay put and not fall. "What?"

  "I just don’t know what to do. I can’t make this ache for you stop and I can’t give into it either. I thought maybe if you started to hate me it might make it easier."

  She snorted. "Yeah, because you make every decision for us, right? You have no right to choose whether I hate you, love you, or want to fuck you. My emotions are my choice. Don’t think for one second you can try to influence them."

  She wanted to slap him and kiss him, all at the same time, but she did neither, simply stared at him, holding her tears and heartbreak inside. "I have to get ready," she whispered, after a long heavy silence.

  He nodded and went into the other room.

  Connie swallowed, grabbing the dress that mocked her from its hanger, then went into bathroom.

  Noah Hannock seemed to be a stickler for punctuality. He knocked on her door exactly two minutes early. Thankfully she was already dressed and wrapped up in her coat.

  He stepped into the room and kissed her on the cheek softly.

  Bugs could have crawled from her mouth and she might have enjoyed it more, but she plastered a smile on her face.

  "I can’t see what you’re wearing, but I do believe you would look ravishing in anything, my dear," he said, as he spun her around in a little twirl.

  The man himself was dressed in a tuxedo complete with tails. If only he had a clue about her plans.

  "Noah, darling, do you mind if we do something different tonight?"

  His forehead wrinkled "My dear, what do
you have in mind?"

  Connie swallowed, not letting her nerves show, and unbuttoned her trench coat to reveal her barely clad body.

  Noah’s mouth hung open in shock. It was the first real emotion she’d seen him display.

  "I thought we could go somewhere this outfit might be more...appropriate," she said, leaning in so he could catch the throaty tone of her voice. He seemed speechless as she inched closer. She dropped her voice to a whisper and wrapped her hands around his neck, leaving her coat open to his eyes. "There are rumor you know some of the best underground clubs in the city."

  He swallowed, and Connie watched his Adam’s apple bob as he tried to get a word out. She knew she had him.

  "Of course I do, my dear," he said, his voice cracking toward the end.

  Connie removed her arms from around his neck, opened the door, and walked out. Noah followed on her heels and despite the fact she wanted to punch Mikon she was glad she could at least make one man drool over her, even if his regard was enough to make her physically ill.

  They climbed into Noah’s waiting car, and then he leaned forward and whispered something to the driver who nodded in return.

  Connie looked out the window, pretending she wasn’t craning to hear every syllable.

  "This is an interesting surprise," Noah said, breaking the silence.

  Connie turned toward him and smiled wide. "Well, I wanted to do something different and this town is known for its underground nightlife. When a little birdie whispered that you might know a place or two all I thought about were ways to convince you to take me."

  Noah nodded. "Sure. I just had no idea you liked such things."

  She trailed a hand over his knee. "There are a lot of things I enjoy you probably don’t know about."