Dark of Night
Page 85
“Actually, my name’s Isabelle.” She kept her hand out and, with a minute shrug of one shoulder, Danny slapped his hand into hers, rattling her whole body. Anticipating a death squeeze grip, he surprised her, giving her hand a polite and perfunctory shake.
“Right,” Melinda said. “Everyone knows everyone, woop-dee-doo.” Taking her bottom lip in her teeth, she shot Izzy a suggestive and excessively eye-lashy upward glance. “Here for the weekend?”
“Don’t know yet,” Izzy said.
Tires squealed in the parking lot.
“Guess you will soon.” Melinda smiled and plucked up the ringing phone, switching the caller over to speakerphone and motioning Danny behind the desk.
Izzy almost smacked Curtis in the head with the front door when she flung it open. Dancing back, he blocked his face with his arm. At the first glimpse of him, the remaining tangle of emotion from her knot pulled loose. All she could do was stare at him.
“Hey,” he said breathlessly, eyes bright.
“Hey,” she countered. “How’d you know I was here?”
Curtis tapped his nose.
“Right. Right. The scent thing.”
“We’re not heating all of Colorado!” Melinda shouted from inside.
Izzy shut the door. They lingered for a minute without speaking, mouths opening and closing like mute fishes. She broke the ice.
“Sorry for not calling first. If I didn’t just come up here, I don’t think I ever would.”
“Understandable,” Curtis said. It appeared he wanted to do something with his hands, thought better of it, and jammed them in his pockets. “You come for your dog?”
“My dog?”
Curtis nodded. “Nook. He’s been mopey since you left. Grouchier than usual.”
“Um, no.”
Now or never, Izzy.
“I came for grilled cheese,” she finished.
Brows lifting, the start of a smile quirked the corner of Curtis’s mouth.
“I’ve got bread and American in the car. Beer, too,” she said. A chilly breeze carried his clean scent to her. Soap and detergent and wood chips.
“Trouble with the stove at home?” Curtis asked.
“Yeah.” Izzy concentrated on her boots. “You’re not anywhere near it.”
Curtis didn’t say a word to that and Izzy’s stomach dropped. Maybe she’d been gone too long. Maybe he thought she’d bolt again. Not that she blamed him. Running was her M.O. Why stop now? She brushed a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. It was senseless stringing out her humiliation. She’d made her valiant effort. It was time to go. Her re-knotted knot twisted and engorged and she made for the screen door. Strong hands caught her mid-stride. She looked up into Curtis’s smiling face. His brown eyes crinkled that way she loved.
“I think I can handle a sandwich or two. Come with me?”
A question. Curtis hadn’t seen her in months yet he was ever careful not to invoke the Alpha’s power. He didn’t need it. Izzy wanted nothing more than to go with him. She placed her hand in his and let him lead her down the stairs.
They stopped at Izzy’s car for her grocery bags — she hadn’t fibbed about the grilled cheese and beer — and packed into Curtis’s Jeep. They reached the cabin in record time.
“Looks a bit different than the last time you were here, I know,” Curtis said and slung the bread on the counter. The beer he gave an appreciative once over and arranged it and the pack of American single slices in the fridge.
The cabin was different. An actual rustic wood dining set, four chairs and everything, replaced the mangled card table and a brand new sofa sat in front of a (also) brand new and significantly larger flat screen. A space-age surround sound system flanked the sofa.
“Still going through the old DVD collection.” Curtis ran a finger over the speaker she appraised. “Upgrading to Blue — ”
Izzy pounced on him, wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. God, she’d missed him, everything about him. His stubble abraded her cheek when she kissed him. Arms locked around her back and he squeezed her so hard she almost squeaked. Laughter puffed out from him like a breath when she reared back.
“So, you’ve landed back on my shoulder, after all,” he murmured.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
They abandoned food and drink for other pleasures. The mattress, when he laid her on it, cushioned Izzy’s back and Curtis’s hands and knees when he came over her. Their clothes — and Izzy’s prosthetic — vanished under his deft hands. Not a trace of the wolf marked him as he entered her. She needed to see that, needed to see the human side of him stronger than the spirit animal he hosted. If she’d seen even a trace of the beast during their voluntary frenzy, she couldn’t have stayed. No amount of love could justify risking her life each time emotions ran high. He was fully Curtis Keene straining above her, eyes closed, mouth open to snatch gasps of air. Her breasts bounced with his steady thrusts. Bringing up her left hand, Izzy cupped his rough cheek. His eyes popped open and he gave her a lazy smile before he bent to kiss her.
As his lips brushed hers, Izzy said, “I love you,” and his brown eyes crinkled again.
“I love you too, Izzy.”
They came together, faces close, breaths mingling. After that, they lay together, side by side, Curtis’s arm cradling Izzy’s head, his fingers tickling her shoulder. For hours, they talked, Curtis telling Izzy about the pack and the lodge and Izzy telling him about the successful production and her rather maudlin holidays.
“Amaretto?” Curtis chuckled and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.
“I like Amaretto.”
“Izzy, you’re probably the sweetest drunk that ever got soused in a graveyard.” He tucked her hair back over her ear and asked seriously, “You all right?”
“Yeah,” she said, then turned her head to him. The pillow sighed with the weight of her cheek. “But I don’t think the grass by Alan’s spot will make it to spring.”
“Why’s that?”
“I kind of watered a bunch of it with the Amaretto.”
With a flash of his white teeth, Curtis filled the room with his booming laughter and, soon after, Izzy’s delicate voice joined his.
They laughed together for a long time.
• • •
On a rocky spit of land stretching out into the ocean, Darial coalesced out of the aethervorlde. But three times had he done so since he’d escaped his prison deep in the spirit realm.
Gray-green waters crested over the rocks on which he perched, leaving them slick and slivery under the overcast sky, the cloud veil so low and thick that the physical world seemed but a sliver of a place. Intuition told him the water was cold. He could not feel the icy spray on his face nor the wind whistling over the cavern pocked cliffs at his back. A powerful spirit he was to materialize in the physical plane, but not powerful enough to feel, to affect.
To conquer.
Darial clenched and unclenched his fists, drank in the glassy quality of his spirit flesh, black and shiny as obsidian. A desert he’d visited first, then a weed choked marsh. Searching. Searching for his jailer. Hunting the one with the power to free the rest of the Black Dogs of the Hunt.
Where are you, brother?
Darial knew his treacherous brother hid himself in this world. Vadriel had accomplished what no great spirit since Yahweh — and the pacifist had squandered his physical shell — had: become flesh. An immortal not made of the cold elements of the Earth, but of bone, muscle, and sinew. No scent of Vadriel carried on these winds. None dwelled here, not even the wolves. The soldiers, wolf spirits housed within mortal hosts, he’d caught whiff of in the sun blasted desert and in the swamps. Did they remember their purpose after left so long to fallow? Would Darial’s presence call them to arms? He prayed so. For,
when he found his brother, and find him he would, the Black Dogs of the Hunt would run free and wild again and Hell would follow at their heels.
About the Author
Envy Augustine’s crammed in a one-bedroom apartment with an obligatory crotchety writer’s cat and a non-obligatory grouchy husband. She can be found scrunched in the left-hand corner of the sofa scribbling on yellow legal pads. Come say “hey” at www.envyaugustine.blogspot.com or on Facebook (where she hangs out regularly) at www.facebook.com/envy.augustine.
A Sneak Peek from Crimson Romance
A Demon in Waiting by Holley Trent
Midnight Sun, Inc.
Debbie Vaughan
Avon, Massachusetts
This edition published by
Crimson Romance
an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.
10151 Carver Road, Suite 200
Blue Ash, Ohio 45242
www.crimsonromance.com
Copyright © 2013 by Debbie Vaughan
ISBN 10: 1-4405-7028-0
ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-7028-5
eISBN 10: 1-4405-7029-9
eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-7029-2
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.
Cover art © 123rf.com; istockphoto.com/robvann; clipart.com
In memory of Willy, Nov. 1998 — Jan. 2011
For Karen, Jamie, Donna, David, Terri, Ash, and Stan who loved this story from its conception. Their encouragement, faith, and advice kept Midnight Sun, Inc. as well as my hope alive. I love you all.
Thank you to Jennifer who wanted my story for Crimson Publishing, my editor Teresa who helped perfect it, Julie for putting up with me, and the rest of the staff for all their efforts to make my dream a reality. You rock!
Contents
Dedication
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
About the Author
A Sneak Peek from Crimson Romance
CHAPTER 1
Ow-ow-ow — my feet are killing me! For the life of me I couldn’t figure out why I was standing here in shoes a size too small. No, that wasn’t entirely true. My best friend Dee, who knew me far too well, had shoved the employment section of the paper in my face and followed that up with the loan of painful footwear.
The neon blinked seductively.
MIDNIGHT SUN TANNING SALON
Grand Opening Celebration: July 4th Weekend
“We cater to all persuasions”
When exactly had vampire become a persuasion? When they stepped out of the coffin, figuratively speaking, and everything we thought we knew about them went in the toilet — figuratively speaking?
Like any new species, they were put under the microscope, poked and prodded by the greatest minds of our time. Conclusion? Hollywood got it wrong. Imagine that!
DNA proved they didn’t descend from Vlad Tepes. Well, except for that small Romanian sect, but they hardly counted. So where had they originated? Aliens from outer space? Mutant viruses brought to Earth on asteroids? Gypsy curses? Secret government gene splicing experiments got my vote, although I didn’t really give a rat’s ass. They were vampires! I had lost my ever lovin’ mind when I read the “Help Wanted” in the paper. Dee hadn’t needed to twist my arm in order to get me to apply for the job. The owner would probably recognize my vampire fetish and send me packing. No matter, until he did, I’d get to sit down.
I dropped all my notes in the trash, and stared at the seemingly normal storefront. Neon sign, business hours on the door, promotion placards in the windows, so, why the odd sense of foreboding? This certainly wasn’t the first job I’d applied for, although it might come in second for the weirdest. I chalked the sensation up to nerves, gave myself a shake and took a deep breath. Onward!
As I opened the door an icy blast of AC froze the sweat trickling down my cleavage and turned my nipples into hard pebbles. So not the look I was going for. As I scanned the walls for a door marked “office,” a handsome cowboy approached.
“May I be of some assistance, ma’am?” he drawled as his gaze dropped to my chest.
His dark hair was brushed away from his bronzed face, leaving the chiseled features clear. I noted large greenish eyes, a square jaw, and a narrow straight nose above a wide, full, sensual mouth. He appeared to be in his early thirties. The black tee pulled tight across his chest read in bold gold block, “Midnight Sun Tanning Salon” and in smaller red script, “We cater to ALL persuasions.” At about six foot four, with broad shoulders and narrow waist, he had the longest legs I’d ever seen. The tight jeans, molded to his body, ended with the toes of worn cowboy boots under the hem.
I managed to drag my eyes up from his crotch long enough to say, “I’m looking for the boss.”
“You’ve found him. Tom Thornton.” He stuck out his hand. “Would you be my next appointment?”
Nice start, Connie! Ogle the boss. I swallowed hard before accepting his offered hand. “I’m Constance Bennett — Connie.”
The tanning system worked well. I’d never have guessed he was a vampire. So much for my notes. Baring little resemblance to his tuxedo clad magazine photos — he was far more handsome in the undead flesh.
“You must promote your own product Miss Bennett, don’t you agree?” He held onto my hand longer than necessary before letting my fingers slide through his, as if reluctant to release them.
“Well, that’s some product! I couldn’t get that dark if I lived in the Sahara.” My hand tingled when his slipped away.
He smiled. A dimple appeared in his chin, and just possibly, a little drool on mine.
“Sure you could if you spray one on. Too much sun isn’t good for your complexion — a trait we share.” He laughed and my face heated. His fangs extended a wee bit.
Something about fangs was in free fall in my brain, and with luck, would land eventually. I was pretty sure he didn’t plan to eat me — with the blood substitutes it just wasn’t done … So, why did he go all fangy?
A Cosmo interview with a vampire rock star claimed most of his kind preferred human sex partners. He stated a sign of arousal in a vamp, is the extension of their fangs. But their fangs came out when they lust for blood as well.
Okay, so is the boss man going to eat me after all? Or does he just think I’m cute? My heart missed a beat. While either idea should have been cause for concern, they were having the opposite effect.
I had sworn off men, but he wasn’t exactly a man. The thought gave me pause, but I managed to summon my best smile. “Am I late?”
�
�Nope, you’re right on time.”
He crossed the floor, opened the office door and ushered me through. Closing the door behind us, he indicated a chair across from a massive desk. A Remington bronze rested on the leather top, a cowboy on a bucking horse. I smothered a grin as the words to Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy rambled through my head.
Grandma had always said that devil music would rot my brain. Unsettling to think she might have been right about something. After I was seated, he eased himself into his own high backed leather chair.
“For me?” He pointed to my folder.
“Yes. Sorry. My resume.” I slid the file across the desk top. “I’ve included a letter of recommendation from my current employer.”
He opened the packet and scanned each sheet. “You’ve had a number of jobs considering your age.”
“I’m twenty-five.”
“Really? As old as that?” He snorted. “You’re applying here, why? Dr. … Smith … says you’re an excellent employee, always on time, willing to stay late, work weekends, good with the clients. Why leave?”
Good question.
“It does seem the perfect job, except for the low pay and no health benefits.” I paused to collect my courage. “And there’s Willy.”
“You have a child?” He began thumbing through my paperwork again.
“No.” I produced a photo from the bowels of my purse, which I handed across the desk. “This is Willy.”
“A dog?”
“Yes sir. As you can see from the photo, he’s handicapped.” I took a breath and continued. “I got him that cart. It’s like a doggie wheel chair. He gets around fine.” His look of dismay didn’t change. “His bladder must be emptied every four hours — so he needs to come to work with me.”
“Miss Bennett, I’m confused, so bear with me. You want to bring him to a tanning salon, but you can’t take him to a veterinary clinic?”
He was confused? Welcome to my little club!
“Yes I could, did … do! So many animals coming and going all day make him feel threatened and nervous. He’s snapped at some of the clients’ pets. If I stay there he’d have to be caged all day. He hates that.” I hoped he thought my story plausible because if he needed a better explanation, I didn’t have one. Willy snapping at anyone was hard to accept.