Night Creatures: Book 2

by Ebony Brightman

  “Oh, God.”

  “I know.” Nisa took another bite. “But it still makes me feel better that it’s someone who knows about Lycans. Damn, this chicken is good.”

  “See!”

  “What are you going to do after you drop me off?” Nisa asked.

  “Go home and get some clothes.”

  “Blakey, please don’t feel like you have to come back to Studio City.”

  “What? So you can give me more shit for abandoning you?”

  “I was kidding about that. Mostly. But with Arlo and Owen there it’ll be fine.”

  “No. As long as Shane and Owen are there, I’ll be there too.”

  “Okay. But can you wait to go back to the house until Arlo and I are there? I don’t want Shane making a move on you. Sexual or otherwise.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” Blake said. “I know how to handle men like Shane.”

  Then the freeway curved left and they could see downtown.

  CHAPTER Ten

  The Joyce entrance hall was beautiful and bustling. Cream-colored travertine spanned the floor, then stretched up the walls to a canopy of skylights. There were cafés on both the left and right—one New American, the other French—with a wide travertine fountain bubbling between them. Fifty feet past the fountain was the sign-in desk, and a hundred feet past that was a pearlescent mural flanked by the elevators.

  The mural was actually a mosaic. An intricate waterfall of blue and green tiles sparkling in the sunlight spilling through the lobby. The upper half was exposed, but the lower half was hidden by scaffolding and a group of workers hanging mesh tarps.

  Nisa spotted Arlo while waiting to sign in. He’d appeared from behind the mesh, then gathered his workers to look over their plans. She couldn’t hear him over the din of voices and footsteps, but she could tell he was in charge. She’d seen the Beast, the fighter, the object of her endless desire . . . But she’d never seen the boss—confident and giving commands.

  “Can I help you?” The security guard was curt, annoyed she was holding up the line.

  Nisa hurried forward. “I’m here for the mural project.” The guard looked skeptical as he eyed her dress. “I’m just visiting. I’m not actually working on the mural.” He looked doubtful but pointed at the sheet and told her to sign. She scrawled her name, then scooted around the desk.

  The man on the left watched her as she neared, then remarked to the group and the rest turned to look. Her eyes locked with Arlo’s, every tingling nerve focused on him. His hand reached out, slipping around her waist to pull her body to his. He leaned in, expecting a kiss and she didn’t deny him. The rest of the world was temporarily forgotten. Then he stared into her eyes, making silent promises.

  Someone cleared his throat to get Arlo’s attention and without looking away from her Arlo told his team to “Take a break.” The men were quick to scatter. Then Arlo raised the caution tape and invited Nisa under.

  He led her toward the scaffolding then they ducked behind the tarp. While she’d barely been able to see through the mesh on the outside, on the inside the light was dimmer and she could see the whole lobby.

  Nisa put her arms around Arlo’s neck and he crushed her in a hug. Then he bent her backward and kissed her more. Minutes melted before they finally broke apart and he smiled and said, “Hello.”

  Nisa smiled and returned the salutation. “Hi.”

  Her relief was instant. He was as happy to see her as she was to see him, this morning’s disagreement, if not forgotten, surely forgiven by them both. He reached out and touched her cheek.

  “You look beautiful.”

  She was blushing again. How many times had she done that today? “This mural is beautiful.”

  “It is.” Arlo turned to follow her gaze.

  The uncovered parts of the mosaic revealed the waterfall, but what Nisa hadn’t seen were the naked men and women frolicking at the bottom. Although the women’s breasts were bare, the more private parts of both genders were covered by strategically placed foam and whirls of water. Their bodies had a Victorian look with rounder, more zaftig figures, but ethnically they were multicultural, which felt surprisingly modern.

  “When was this first created?”

  Arlo stepped back, running his hand over the tiles. “About sixty years ago. It was commissioned by an advertising firm on the top two floors, but when it was revealed the rest of the businesses freaked out. The owners had to pay to have it covered.”

  “So when did it see daylight again?”

  “There was a pipe leak last year and when they went into the wall to fix it, they discovered it was there. They decided to tear down the wall and display it. But as you can see,”—Arlo pointed to a large hole in the tiles a few feet away, then two smaller holes higher up the wall—“they had to damage the mural to fix the leak. They got another company out here to clean the tiling, but the more difficult restoration work was over their heads. And that’s where I come in.”

  It was as Arlo had said, his work let him become a small part of history—and it was lovely to know he could take something that others had destroyed, and so painstakingly put it back together.

  “Can I touch it?”

  “Of course.”

  Nisa reached out, imagining Arlo inspecting each piece, strategizing to make the mural whole again. Arlo followed as she walked the wall. When she reached the first rupture, she peered inside. She smelled limestone and damp, and heard water running in the pipes—perhaps to the fountain. This was a big job, which meant Arlo would be in LA for a while. He wouldn’t have an excuse to leave her and she wouldn’t have to make him stay.

  She looked over to find him watching her.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “How much work this is going to be for you.”

  “No. You were thinking something more.”

  Nisa dropped her hand from the wall and leaned her back against the tiles, but she stayed silent, eyeing Arlo with a distant smile.

  “How did it go at the doctor’s?”

  Nisa pulled the picture of the ultrasound out of her purse and handed it to Arlo. “We’re having a girl.”

  A slow smiled creeped across Arlo’s face. “Really? It’s confirmed?”

  Nisa was coy as she nodded her head. “Yup.”

  Arlo grabbed her face and kissed her again. “That’s wonderful.”

  Nisa took off her jacket and tossed it over a crossbeam. Then slipped the picture from Arlo’s fingers and put it back in her purse.

  He gave her a sly look. “What else did the doctor say?”

  She hooked a finger through his belt loop. “That I could have as much sex as I wanted.”

  Arlo laughed, his hands on his hips now. “Oh, is that what she told you?”

  Nisa nodded again. “Uh-huh.”

  She wedged her finger under his belt flap and pulled it free. Then made quick work of the button and zipper on his jeans. Arlo stepped closer. He looked to make sure that no one could see them. She pulled the front of his underwear down and drew out his penis.

  His breath deepened as she ran her fingers from base to tip, and when she stroked him again he was fully erect. His cock throbbed against her palm as she encircled his shaft. He moaned and leaned into her, and she put her free hand to his lips to remind him to stay quiet.

  The lobby suddenly seemed louder, and she could pick out voices. Executives discussing a marketing plan. Men laughing near the elevator. They were all right there around them.

  “Do you like that?” she murmured. “Does that feel good?”

  Arlo nipped at Nisa’s fingers which she decided was a “yes.” Her hand glided faster, keeping the pressure light, but adding a twist when she reached the head.

  Arlo dipped down to run his hand up her thigh, then his fingers were in her panties. He never broke eye contact. Nisa could feel his breath as the plump part of his palm rubbed against her clit. They stayed like that—stroking each other, daring each other not to look away—as the te
nsion in her pussy wound tighter and tighter.

  He stepped even closer, freeing his hand to hitch her leg over his hip. Then he grabbed his manhood and, pushing panties aside, slid himself into her. Nisa inhaled and closed her eyes. Then he pressed her against the wall and hitched up the other leg.

  He did all the work, Nisa’s arms lazily resting on his shoulders as Arlo fell into rhythmic thrusts. She put her head back against the mural, her lids heavy with ecstasy. Then she bit her lip, trying to stay silent.

  “But we came all this way. We can’t even take a peek?”

  Nisa’s eyes snapped open. She could see them through the mesh standing ten feet away. Two elderly women arguing with the security guard who had been brusque with Nisa earlier.

  “Ladies, I appreciate that you made a special trip, but it’s under construction. It’s just not safe.”

  A whimper slipped from Nisa’s throat as her ass cheeks started to clap.

  The second old lady pursed her lips. “If anything happens, we promise not to sue.”

  Arlo paused, giving Nisa a little bounce. The backs of her knees were now resting in the crooks of his elbows. Her sandal dangled from her foot as he began to plunge deeper.

  A call came in over the security guard’s radio. A door alarm had been triggered on the third floor. The ladies were left alone as the guard went to investigate.

  Nisa watched, mildly panicked, as the women approached the caution tape. They ripped it away with no remorse. Then the lady in front eagerly came forward, her arthritic fingers pulling back the flap.

  “Oh my, Dolores. Oh my!”

  Nisa bounced helplessly against the wall as she and the woman made eye contact. And then Nisa came. She couldn’t help it—couldn’t hold it until the woman looked away. She was vibrating with orgasm, her body trembling. The old lady’s eyes widened to saucers.

  Nisa knew Arlo could hear the women but had no intention of stopping. If anything, he was trying to make her come again. So she did.

  Her body shoved off the wall, inviting Arlo’s seed into the deepest parts of her cunt. Arlo groaned. Now he was coming too and Nisa held tight until he was done filling her up.

  Her head lolled to the side.

  The two old ladies were slack-jawed, the one in the back actually clutching her pearls. “Come on Stella, before we miss our reservation.” Then she snatched the flap from her friend’s shaky hand.

  Nisa’s feet found the floor again. She righted her dress and sandals as Arlo zipped his pants. He ran fingers through his hair and smoothed his shirt, while Nisa put on her jacket and fanned herself with her hands.

  Arlo watched the old ladies as they hastened past the fountain. “I think they saw us.”

  Nisa’s laugh came out in snorts. “My, God. What is wrong with us?”

  “Nothing.” Arlo shook his head. “Everything is exactly right.”

  Arlo’s guys came back just as Nisa and Arlo were exiting the mesh. This time he made introductions.

  “Hey, guys. This is Nisa.”

  There were three of them. A tall, brawny Asian guy, a shorter, tanned Caucasian guy, and a wiry guy who looked to be Persian.

  The Asian guy spoke first. “We figured as much,” he stuck out his hand and Nisa shook it. “Nice to meet you. I’m Ivan.”

  The Persian guy, who’d spotted Nisa when she’d first walked up, shook her hand next. “I’m Azir, this is Ward.”

  Ward didn’t speak. Just grasped Nisa’s hand with a firm grip.

  She was surprised they’d heard of her—that Arlo had mentioned her by name. “It’s nice to meet you guys, too.”

  Ivan was clearly the leader. “Are you the one to thank for our day off yesterday?”

  Nisa glanced at Arlo. “I suppose I am.”

  All three men smiled wide.

  “And you can thank her for the rest of the afternoon, as well.” Arlo ushered Nisa toward the lobby exit. “Just finish hanging the tarps, and I’ll see you guys next week.”

  “Aye, aye captain,” Azir called out and then gave Arlo a two-finger salute.

  Nisa looked over her shoulder to see Ward and Ivan pulling twenties from their pockets. Azir was smiling like a fool as they each slapped a bill into his outstretched hand. Nisa prayed the wager was about time off and not what she and Arlo had just been up to.

  They passed the French restaurant where the two old ladies were sitting on the “patio.” While the one with the pearls looked thoroughly scandalized, the other old lady gave a nod of approval.

  Nisa lips curled into an impish smile, then she followed Arlo out into the city.

  #

  Arlo drove a classic Ford truck. A 1977 F-150 with a rebuilt engine and a blue and white paint job. When Nisa saw it her jaw had dropped. It was another Arlo quirk that she hadn’t even guessed at. It made her feel like she’d stepped into some old movie.

  It also made more sense why he’d run to her house in Beast form the night before last. The truck was a tank. It could get up to a pretty high speed, but it was a workhorse, not a vehicle known for maneuverability. Once Arlo found out she was pregnant, he’d have been way too impatient to wind through Topanga Canyon or deal with traffic. Even in the middle of the night, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t have gotten held up by road work or an accident or some event letting out.

  Now they were rumbling along with the windows rolled down, the wind dancing in the hem of her dress.

  “So what was it you didn’t want to tell me?” Arlo’s voice was raised, working to be heard over the growl of the engine.

  “What do you mean?” Nisa responded.

  “In the lobby. When we were talking about your doctor’s appointment and my dick was suddenly in your hand.”

  Nisa rubbed gloss on her lips. “I thought you liked having your dick in my hand.”

  Arlo slowed as traffic ground to a halt. “I love it. But I still want to know what it is you’re not saying.”

  Nisa tugged at her seatbelt. These were not the belts that had come with the original truck. These looked newer and locked tight when the brake was even lightly applied. “Shane showed up at my doctor’s appointment.”

  Arlo’s fist tightened on the steering wheel as he turned to look out the window. “That sneaky motherfucker.”

  “I also went to see Willa before I came to The Joyce.”

  “What?” Arlo looked at her sharply. “Why?”

  “Because I’m thirty-eight. Which means that this is a geriatric pregnancy, and I’ll probably need to get an amniocentesis. It’s my choice whether to have one or not, but it can help identify any abnormalities the baby might have, and it can also establish paternity.”

  “Okay.” Traffic had started moving again. “What’s that got to do with Willa?”

  “I needed to know if one of the abnormalities the amnio could pick up was Lycanthropy.” Arlo nodded his head, starting to get it. “She said that if the baby is Lycan, then it’s a distinct possibility it could show up in the test.”

  “So what’s the solution?”

  “She gave me the name of a doctor who’s on her payroll. He performs amnios and can apparently keep a secret.”

  “Okay. Good.” They were passing Universal City now. “What about Shane? How did he figure out where you were going to be?”

  “The appointments on my smartphone sync with our joint calendar. He tried to stay for the appointment but the doctor had him escorted out.”

  Arlo’s grip eased a little. “Okay. Anything else?”

  Nisa considered telling Arlo why Shane had been escorted out, but she didn’t see how sharing that information right at this moment would do anyone any good. “He came on to Blake before she went to Peru.”

  Arlo shook his head. “Came on to her, how?”

  “Grabbed her breasts. Told her he wanted to see her come.” Nothing in Nisa loved Shane anymore, but it was still hard for her to say. That a man she’d been so devoted to could treat her sister like that. That he had no boundaries, even when it ca
me to family by marriage.

  Arlo squinted into the sun. “He really is a piece of shit, isn’t he.”

  Nisa tried to mask the quiver in her voice. “Yes, he is.”

  “You know this living situation can’t last, right?”

  Nisa stared out at the traffic ahead, slowly inching along. “That I do.”

  CHAPTER Eleven

  The rest of the ride to the house had been tense. Not an angry kind of tension, but the tension of both Nisa and Arlo knowing their relationship was complicated. That although their love could withstand the storm, the rest of their world balanced on Shane’s irrational whim.

  When they’d arrived home, Shane was in the den, pretending not to brood, Owen was in the family room reading, and Blake was in the backyard, sunbathing. Owen had been focused on his book, but his view of Blake and her bikini was suspiciously unobstructed.

  Nisa suggested that, given Blake’s earlier revelation, she cover up her wares while Shane was around. To which an indignant Blake responded, “What I’m wearing has never stopped him or any other man from acting like a vulgar douchebag when they’ve made up their minds to. I could be wearing a Masonic robe and he’d still act like a piece of shit.” Then she’d rolled over to sun her back.

  Nisa returned to the house to find Owen and Arlo chuckling in agreement. Nisa agreed too, but it was easier to control Blake than to put the responsibility of bad behavior where it belonged—entirely on Shane. She’d thrown Owen and Arlo an irritated look but it had only made them laugh harder. Then they’d offered to cook dinner and all had been forgiven.

  She’d trudged up the stairs with the intention of taking a nap, but then she’d stopped in her office to check her emails. She’d put work on the back burner for the last few days and couldn’t let go of the hope that the faster she delivered three great scripts, the sooner Shane would be (mostly) out of her hair.

  The chances of this all ending amicably were slim. But at least she had to try. Maybe not for her own sake, but for the sake of her baby and the Lycans. It had been Arlo’s choice to pursue her, but she still felt partially to blame for this mess. So instead of running for the refuge of her bedroom, she walked into her office, sat down, and turned on her laptop.