Since dreams aren’t admissible as evidence, I don’t have another choice. He handed Kalli the file containing his case notes. “Could you make sure the Captain gets this?”
She nodded, took the file. “How does the date fit into your operation?”
“Brozi’s throwing a party at his mansion. If I can talk to his employees in a casual setting, maybe I’ll learn something.”
Kalli arched an eyebrow. “You still haven’t explained the part about the date.”
Dammit, stop blushing. “I found an actress willing to give me her invitation. But it’s a woman’s name on the guest list. I need someone to be Cherry Valentine, so I can be her escort.”
“Why not go with the real Cherry Valentine?”
“There’ll be hundreds of people there. Two detectives in the house means twice as many questions asked.”
“I see.” She looked away again, and Joe experienced the loss of eye contact as a wrenching in his gut. She’d met his gaze for less than a minute but he was already addicted to the small intimacy.
“I’ll make sure the Captain gets these.” She placed the file on her desk. She seemed determined to avoid looking at him now. “Is there anything else?”
I’m sorry, he wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure what to apologize for. “No, thanks.”
* * * *
Kalli tucked her compact into her purse, then tugged on the hem of her mini-dress. Black, stretchy, and riddled with strategically placed cut-outs, the garment fit like a second skin, barely containing her breasts and riding up to the top of her thighs with every step. A bikini would have been more modest. But Brennan needed a porn star, so she was dressed like a porn star, right down to her rhinestone-studded stiletto pumps.
Wonder what he’s going to say when he realizes I’m his “date.” He was expecting a Vice detective. Kalli sighed. More than a year of crushing on Joe, with his soulful blue eyes and his boyish smile, fantasizing that he’d ask her out—she’d never imagined that their first date would be an undercover operation.
It’s the only way he’d ever go out with a freak like me.
Joe’s blue sedan pulled into the lot, slowing more than necessary as it approached the curb. He gaped at her as she got in the car, continued to gape as she fastened her seatbelt and clasped her scarlet-tipped fingers around her purse. Kalli’s skin heated under his astonished gaze. Self-conscious, she licked her lips. He sucked in a breath, shifting as if his seatbelt was suddenly too tight.
“You’re not…you can’t…” He swallowed hard, like he had something stuck in his throat. “Jesus, Kallista.”
“Cherry.” She batted her mascaraed lashes at him. “Do you want me to drive?”
“I want you to put some clothes on.” He stared straight ahead, as if she were naked and he was trying not to look.
“Dressed like this, no one’s going to guess I’m a cop.”
“You’re not a cop. You’re a secretary.”
Her anger surged, but she couldn’t contradict him. That was exactly what she’d been pretending for the last year. “I can approach Brozi. Ask him things you can’t.”
“Absolutely not.” He had a white-knuckle grip on the wheel, and his temples pulsed. “You have no idea what you’re asking me to do.”
“I’m asking you to take me to a party.”
“A party for porn stars. Hosted by a murder suspect.”
“Captain’s orders, Brennan. Are you going to disobey an order?” She almost hoped he would. Then she could go to the party alone, and if something went wrong, she’d only have to worry about herself. Nothing should go wrong. All you’re going to do is talk to a few actors and decide whether the Guard should investigate Brozi.
He started the car. “As soon as you get me into the mansion, you’re going home.”
* * * *
Joe couldn’t believe it. Kallista was sitting in his car, looking like a wet dream version of Wonder Woman, and it was his job to escort her to a party where countless attractive men would try to get into her panties. Captain’s orders, no explanation. What did I do to piss you off, God?
He drove in a daze, pulse hammering so hard his veins ached. All he had to do was slide his eyes to the right, and there she was, her dress showing more smooth, olive skin than it covered. Thankfully, the seatbelt cutting into his lap made his erection less obvious, because he couldn’t muster the will to think about baseball or anything else except how much he wanted her.
Kalli was talking. Joe growled, struggling to focus.
“That’s not what the Captain said,” she argued.
“The Captain isn’t here.” The Captain doesn’t have to watch the woman of his dreams dress like a porn star and flirt with a murderer. “Brozi’s already killed three women. What’s to keep him from killing us if he realizes we’re onto him?”
“Don’t worry, Brennan. I’ll protect you.”
She was going to protect him. He prayed that his dream had been wrong, and that he wasn’t putting Kalli in danger by taking her with him.
The party was worse than Joe expected. Hesitating in the doorway with Kalli beside him, he choked on air thick with the musk of sex and sweat. He peered into the dungeon. Or rather, a ballroom decorated to look like a dungeon, with fake rock walls embedded with torches and naked men and women chained up in raised, illuminated alcoves evenly spaced around the cavernous room. Each shackled “prisoner” was attended by a leather-clad “guard,” who supervised while guests spanked, tickled, whipped, or caressed a particular prisoner. The room’s center was an undulating crush of bodies moving to the throb of frenetic music and strobing colored lights.
Was it possible to die of embarrassment? And is there any chance I could do it right now? It would have been tough enough to bring a Vice detective with him, but to be here with Kalli—he’d never been so mortified. Worse, his traitorous body had responded to the scene by sending even more blood away from his brain. Baseball. Oh God. Think about baseball.
“I don’t see Brozi,” Kalli yelled over the music. She seemed oblivious to the orgiastic display of flesh and his humiliating reaction to it. “Let’s mingle.”
Joe groaned. No way. He put his lips against her ear, so she could hear him. “Let’s walk around the house, see how far we get before anyone stops us.”
She took a deep breath, and the rising swell of her breasts made the air hitch in his lungs.
“I thought you wanted to talk to the actors in a more casual environment,” she said.
“This is not a casual environment.” He’d never felt less casual in his life.
A curvaceous blonde sashayed up, flail in hand. She wore nothing but a leather thong, pirate boots, and a predatory grin. Blondie stood so close to Joe that when she inhaled, one of her nipples pressed into his bicep.
“Want to play?” she asked.
Joe opened his mouth to say, No thanks, but Kalli shocked him by mirroring Blondie’s wicked smile, one predator to another.
“With that toy? What is this, amateur hour?”
Blondie giggled. “So you’ve seen the real dungeon?”
Holy hell, the real dungeon? Was it possible Blondie knew where the videos had been made?
“Stefan promised to show me tonight, but I don’t see him here.” Kalli pouted. “Do you know where he is?”
Blondie toyed with the leather strips dangling from the end of her flail. “Want me to escort you down there?”
“We’d like to, ah, explore it on our own.” Joe winked as he looped his arm around Kalli’s waist and pulled her closer. “Can you tell us how to find it?”
Blondie’s pout was more practiced than Kalli’s, but not nearly as sexy. “I’ll take you to the elevator.”
* * * *
The elevator doors opened with a rattle, revealing a long, low-ceilinged room—cobblestone floors, rough stone tiles on the walls and ceiling. Torches in wrought-iron sconces flamed orange and gold, giving off unsteady light that made shadows leap over the floor. From a row of ho
oks set into the far wall dangled blades, branding irons, and other implements Kalli was thankful she didn’t recognize. A dirty table with chains and manacles at each corner took up the center of the chamber. Stefan Brozi stood next to it.
Joe swore under his breath.
“Kallista Ophiades.” Brozi practically hissed her name. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice a member of the Guard passing over my threshold?”
In her peripheral vision, she saw Joe’s head swivel toward her. “How does he know you?”
“You haven’t told the human who you are, have you?” Brozi smiled. “Or rather, what you are.”
Joe stepped in front of her, plasticuffs in hand. “Stefan Brozi, you’re under arrest—”
Kalli grabbed a fistful of shirt and yanked Joe back so hard he lost his balance and slammed into the back wall of the elevator. He blinked at her like he’d never seen her before. She hoped he hadn’t hit his head. Better a concussion than a taste of Brozi’s venom.
“Call the Captain. Tell him to send help.” Kalli slapped the first floor button. Joe stared at her dazedly as the doors closed. She spun around to face Brozi. In the time it had taken to send Joe to safety, Brozi had assumed his true form. Patches of torchlight gleamed on his scaly green lizard skin, making his eyebrow ridges and bulging cheekbones seem larger, turning his jagged teeth a dirty yellow. Dark talons extended from his fingertips.
“Come with me, Brozi. If you turn yourself in, it’ll be less painful.” For both of us.
The basilisk took a long, serrated dagger from its hook. “But not nearly as much fun. Come and get me, Guard.”
Kalli shed her human form, energy coiling and sparking as the magic reshaped her. Her legs melting into a single column of muscle, her dress ripped and fluttered to the ground as her body stretched the fabric beyond its limits, fangs extended to press into her lips. The hissing of snakes filled her ears, and a tiny flickering tongue tickled the side of her neck.
The elevator doors dinged open behind her. She twisted around, saw Joe, and barely averted her eyes in time.
“Holy shit!” he yelled, at the same time she yelled, “Don’t look!”
She heard a chuffing noise behind her. No. She launched herself at Joe, barely knocking him to the floor before the basilisk’s venom splattered against the wall. Sizzling droplets of fetid goo seared her back. She was immune to the basilisk’s petrifying stare, being a gorgon, but its saliva could make her sick. Joe wouldn’t stand a chance against either.
“Don’t look him in the eye and don’t let him spit on you.”
Joe grunted. She hoped he understood.
By the time she’d risen, Brozi was almost on them. No room to retreat, and if Kalli dodged to one side, she’d leave Joe unprotected. She had no choice but to strike, and hope she was faster.
As the basilisk swung the blade overhead, she lunged for his throat. Brozi spat again, missing her face, but spraying her neck and shoulder with poisonous saliva. Pain razored through her, but she managed to strike Brozi’s wrist with one hand, jarring hard enough that he dropped the knife, while her other hand found the soft spot under his chin. His talons pierced the skin on her wrist as he fought to loosen her grip on his neck.
“Don’t look,” she heard herself screaming at Joe. “Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look.”
The basilisk snapped at her, forcing her to rear back as his teeth sliced through the air before her. Kalli lost her grip on his neck. Brozi threw her against the wall so hard the room trembled. A sick buzzing reverberated through her skull, and dizziness flooded her, weakness she couldn’t afford. The shock of the impact, or the effect of the venom? Her breath came in ragged gasps as she gathered her remaining strength for another attack.
Brozi laughed, a slithery sound. “Do you want to watch me eat the human? Or would you rather die knowing you failed to save him?”
An ear-shattering crack, and Brozi convulsed, pitching backward; another crack, and the basilisk dropped to the floor, twitched, went limp.
Keeping her gaze lowered, Kalli let her head turn until Joe appeared in her peripheral vision—arms outstretched, her open purse at his feet. One hand held her mirrored compact, the other held a gun.
He’d used the mirror to aim the gun. He understood.
Kalli pushed off from the wall, grabbed the remnants of her dress, and began to scrub off the basilisk’s venom. The fiery tingling faded to a tolerable level, and as her breathing calmed, relief was replaced by humiliation.
“You hurt?” Joe asked.
Just my pride. “I’ll survive.”
“You should’ve told me Brozi was a Gorn.” Joe tucked his gun back in the shoulder holster under his jacket.
That was his reaction to what he’d just seen? “This isn’t Star Trek, Manos. Brozi was a Basilisk.”
“Whatever, Medusa.”
“Medusa’s dead.”
“Yeah, I saw the movie.” Joe snapped the compact shut and tossed it to her. She fumbled it, caught it. “Captain knows?”
“Yes.” The word came out as a hoarse whisper. “The Guard is like the police for supernaturals.”
“You looked human. Before.”
“Great-Grandma Euryale did a favor for Aphrodite. The goddess paid her back with the power to blend in.”
He hesitated before he asked, “do you think you could look human again?”
“Sorry.” Kalli took a deep breath and assumed her human form. Joe continued to stare at the floor. What a relief that she didn’t have to look him in the eye, to see what he thought of her in his expression. That hollow feeling in my stomach is relief, she told herself. Not disappointment.
He tossed something else at her, and this time his aim was better. His shirt. She blushed and put it on. “Thanks for the date, Brennan.”
“We should do it again. Without the dungeon and the basilisk.”
He’s joking. But she wanted him to mean it. She struggled to keep her tone light as she asked the question that had haunted her since she’d met him. “Why would you go out with a freak like me?”
“I dreamed about Brozi. That’s how I knew the snuff videos were his.” He sounded happy. “I’m not crazy. The stuff I’ve been dreaming is real.”
“Premonitions?”
Joe put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “I also dreamed about you, Kallista. Give me a chance to make that dream come true.”
He saw my true form, and he’s still here. She peeked up at him. “How did it end? Your dream?”
His hands slid down to her waist, bleeding warmth through the thin fabric of the shirt, and he pulled her into a hug. “Have dinner with me tomorrow and find out.”
When he asked like that, how could she resist?
Serendipity…or Something Like That
by Jane Kent
You’d think the daughter of a siren and a selkie could find a date with no problem, wouldn’t you?
I mean, really, even the child of a human and an Other—be it witch, warlock, shadow dweller, fairy or whatever—generally inherits some power from their Other parent. And mixed Others nearly always inherit powers. For Neptune’s sake, the children of a sorcerer and an enchantress are bestowed with enhanced powers! So, as the daughter of two species of Others who lure and seduce the opposite sex, you’d think I could at least drum up enough magic to attract the attention of some male, human or Other.
But, no, if I’m a measuring stick for half-siren-half-selkies, then apparently a siren and a selkie cancel each other out. They’re not known for their honesty, sirens and selkies, I mean. They’re sneaky, and they usually only enchant and seduce humans. My parents were both masquerading in their human form when they met and…but that’s another story. The short version is I, and my sister, are the result of their trickery.
We’re aberrations, mutants. We don’t even have to live in the sea, only near it. There are no Others like us. Or, if there are, I’ve never met one. We don’t even have a species name. Hah, what would th
ey call us anyway? Sirkies? Selrens? Maybe a whole new—
My stomach rumbled suddenly as the smell of grilling meat wafted over the fence on the warm autumn breeze to tempt me, reminding me that I hadn’t had dinner yet. Evidently, my new neighbor was barbequing.
I needed to get over the self-indulgent pity party soon, get my backside out of the patio lounger and figure out what I was going to have for dinner.
But first…
I sent a small siren song my mother had taught me out into to the universe.
Pointless, I know, but it never hurts to keep trying.
Truly, it’s not like me to sit around feeling sorry for myself like this. Because you have to play the hand you’re given, right? Wallowing in self-pity only makes you miserable. And who wants to hang out with someone who’s miserable? But it was only a week until—
“Meow.”
My new neighbor’s cat sat on the fence blinking his exotic emerald eyes at me. I’d seen him around before, exploring on my side of the fence, and he’s a pretty gorgeous guy; all shiny black fur over sleek muscles, a lot like a miniature panther, in fact.
Typical. Apparently my little siren song had worked. I might not be able to call other Others or humans to me but, unlike my sister, I’m not completely without powers. Male animals love me. Cats, dogs, horses, pigs…well, you name it. If they’re anywhere in the vicinity when I send out a song, they respond. Guess I’m kind of like one of those whistles you can’t hear. Good thing the effects of my songs only last for a minute or two, or else I’d have every pet in the neighborhood showing up in no time.
Maybe my powers work on animals because my father is half seal.
Well, not half seal precisely…he can shed his skin to become human and then put it back on to return to seal form. Like I said, tricky.
The cat gracefully jumped off the fence and padded over to my lounger.
Well, it could be worse. He could be a rat. Or a snake. Don’t think it hasn’t happen. That’s why I rarely, very rarely, send out a song.
“Hello, handsome boy. Too bad you don’t stand on two legs. If you did, you could be my date.”
Just One Bite Volume 3 Page 3