by Anna, Vivi
Eden wasn’t quite sure she could handle a man-snake/horse/buggy mashup right now. She was barely hanging on to her sanity as her gaze darted everywhere at once, trying to take everything in. The street looked like any other average downtown city street at night. There was concrete beneath her feet and buildings made out of brick and cement and glass in all four directions. She read neon restaurant signs for the best Chinese food in town and pawn shop displays in windows. It could’ve easily been any street downtown.
But it clearly wasn’t.
Because Eden would’ve known if there were—what she could only guess were—Satyrs living in her city. Two of them walked past her; one of them winked.
“Hey, baby, looking for a good time?”
Scared, she just shook her head and kept her lips pressed together and her gaze glued to the sidewalk.
They moved on, chuckling at her obvious nervousness and ignorance.
Finally, after another few minutes of agonizing confusion and fear, someone took pity on Eden. That someone was a four-foot-high mottled green goblin named Durt.
“Are you lost, lady?”
“You could say that.”
“What I want to know is if you’re saying it.”
She nodded eagerly. “Yes, I’m definitely lost.”
“Come from the other side, have you?”
She nodded again.
“Well, for the right price, I could be your Threshold tour guide.” He smiled, revealing two gapped rows of razor-sharp yellow teeth.
“Threshold?”
“Yup.” He lifted his stubby arms out to the sides. “Welcome to Threshold. Where anything goes.”
“Okay?” she drew the word out, looking around trying to decide her next step. “What is this place exactly? How does it exist?”
“I don’t know, lady. Do I look like a scientist or a theologist?”
“Theologist? Are you saying this is...like hell or something?”
He snickered. “This ain’t hell. It’s better than that. It’s the world between the worlds. The place where anything and everything can exist and does.”
As if to prove his point, two female werewolves walked by, both dressed like Lolita Goths, resplendent in short plaid skirts, black knee-high socks, four-inch wedge Mary Janes and tank tops. They each sported pigtails, accented with big pink bows.
Eden looked back at Durt. “How much do you charge?”
“For you, ten even.”
“Ten dollars an hour?”
He shook his bald head. “No, not dollars. Your paper is useless here.”
“Then ten what?” Eden really had a bad sense that she shouldn’t have asked and she didn’t really want to know.
“Rats.”
“Excuse me?”
“Rats. I love them. They taste so darn good. And I can’t get them here. Well, not the eating kind anyway.”
“What kinds are here?”
“The talking kind. And they don’t ever shut up.”
“Well, I don’t seem to have any rats on me at the moment.”
He snickered again. “I know that. I’m not an idiot. I want you to get them for me when you go back. We’ll make a deal. I’ll show you around, help you navigate, and when you go back you have to get me ten dead rats and send them through to me.”
She shrugged. She figured she didn’t have much of a choice. “It’s a deal.”
Durt gobbed on the palm of his right hand and held it out to her. “To seal the deal.”
She spat on her palm and then shook his hand. It was disgusting but she tried to keep her face still—she didn’t want to insult the little creature. He seemed to sincerely want to help her, and she didn’t have any other contact in this world.
“Okay, so what’s your pleasure? Food, booze, drugs, sex, whatever it is, you can find it here.” He leaned closer to her and said behind his clawed hand, “And just so you know, I don’t judge. We all got our vices. Whatever depraved thing you want, I can direct you to it.”
“I need information.”
“Ah, now I see. You’re looking for someone.”
She nodded. “He’s big, dumb, looks like he’s been built from stone and stinks to high heaven of sulfur.”
Durt snorted. “You just described half the population. But I know of a place where you can ask questions freely without fear of being shot, stabbed, eviscerated, bitten or blown to bits.” He stared down the sidewalk. “Come on. It’s not far.”
Eden followed the little green goblin down the street, careful to avoid bumping into a man-lizard with glowing red eyes and talons walking the opposite way. Its elliptical pupils narrowed at her as she passed. Shivers rushed down her spine and she pulled her leather jacket in tighter around her body.
She had a feeling that being in this place was going to give her permanent chills.
They walked, Durt in the lead, about five blocks until they came to a desolate, dilapidated-looking building on the corner of two wide streets. Eden glanced around and noticed that it was smack in the middle of a crossroads of sorts. A screaming pink neon sign hanging over the door read The Chained Heart. Durt pushed open the banged-up pink door, and Eden followed him through.
Eden didn’t know what she had expected at The Chained Heart, but it definitely wasn’t what she saw. It was a tavern, an old-school medieval-type place. There were wooden tables and chairs and a long bar, all standing on a gray stone floor and leaning somewhat from excessive use. Various types of people sat at the tables drinking what she thought to be beer by the frothy tops in large pewter steins.
She would’ve thought she’d walked onto a movie set for a historical film if it wasn’t for the vampires, werewolves, Satyrs, centaurs, lizard people, one haggard-looking Cyclops and others that she couldn’t even begin to name taking up the wooden chairs and drinking the ale. It was like watching a cheesy B movie except with stellar special effects.
Durt crossed the room toward the bar. Eden followed him. Several patrons greeted the little goblin, most with pleasant “hellos” and handshakes, but there were a few steely-eyed gazes thrown his way.
When they reached the bar, Durt slammed his hand down on the counter. “What can I get you?”
Everyone seemed to be drinking the same thing, so she decided that was probably her best bet. The easiest way to blend in. “A pint.”
He nodded at the ogre-looking bartender. “Two pints, Larry.”
Larry shuffled over to the taps and pulled two frothy-looking pints. He set them down on the counter in front of Durt. He didn’t look at Eden. “Seven.”
Durt dug into his pants pocket and came away with a leather pouch. He opened it and upended seven gold pieces onto the counter. Larry took them in his beefy, hairy hand and ambled away again.
Durt handed Eden the beer. She nodded to him as she took a tentative sip. Surprisingly, it was really good. She drank some more, then set it down on the counter.
“So, where can I get that information I’m looking for?”
He eyed the other patrons over the rim of his mug. “I’ll feel them out for you. Some of them can be really surly.”
Which was punctuated by the Cyclops punching a lizard-man in the snout. Lizard-man went down, falling under his table, and the rest of the patrons went back to their drinks and conversation.
But Eden wasn’t concentrating on that. No, she was looking at the huge smoking demon walking out from where the washrooms were located. He had a cigarette in his mouth and a mug of beer in his hand. And he still wore the same clothes as before.
She marched toward him, ignoring Durt’s grunt of alarm. “Hey. I want to talk to you.”
The smoking demon glanced at her, then took up a stool at the bar, promptly giving her his expansive back. He took a healthy gulp of his drink.
Eden slid in next to him at the bar. “I said I want to talk to you.”
“I heard you,” he grunted, then blew smoke into her face. It had the stench of sulfur through it. “And I suggest you get lost, or yo
u’re going to get hurt. I already warned you once. I don’t give second warnings.”
Durt pushed himself between Eden and the demon. “Just a mistake, Bif. Nothing to get angry about.” He nudged Eden away.
But she wasn’t going. She had questions for Bif. “I want to know where Lilith Grae is. I know you know, asshole.”
An uncomfortable hush settled over the bar. It was so quiet it was palpable—Eden could feel the silence on her skin. She swallowed audibly and glanced around. It was obvious she had said the wrong thing.
Durt gaped at her and was about to say something when his gaze landed on something, or someone, behind her. He immediately dropped his gaze and bowed his head.
Eden swung around. And there he was. The dark-haired man from her dreams.
“I have a private room. We can talk freely in there.” He didn’t wait for her response, but crossed the tavern floor as if he was floating. She looked around and everyone was staring at her; some were gasping. She straightened her shoulders and followed the man to the far side of the room where there was an open door.
She stepped through, and it shut of its own accord behind her. The man was standing by an intimate round table set for two. He gestured to one of the chairs. “Please sit.”
She did.
He picked up a decanter filled with what looked like red wine. “Would you like wine?”
She nodded, still unable to find her voice.
He poured her a half glass in the jewel-encrusted goblet in front of her. He then filled his own cup. After setting the decanter down, he sat and picked up his glass. He lifted it toward her.
She picked hers up and tapped glasses with him. He drank, watching her over the rim. She brought the glass to her mouth and tilted it back carefully. The second the wine hit her tongue there was an explosion of zesty flavor in her mouth. And something else. There was an explosion of images in her mind.
She, naked on the table, spread out like a buffet, and he between her thighs, feasting on her.
Gasping she shut her eyes against the carnal picture of desire.
“Are you all right?” he asked, a small, knowing smile on his face.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Although the sudden pulse of heat in her sex told her otherwise.
“Do you like the wine? It’s over four hundred years old.”
Eden clutched her glass. “It’s quite good.”
He nodded, his smile broadening. It made her thighs tense.
After another careful mouthful she set the cup down and regarded the man seated across from her. “Who are you?”
“My name is Bael.”
“Okay, that’s your name, but who are you?”
He chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “That’s what I’ve always liked about you, Eden. You’re always so to the point.”
She flinched a little at his use of her name in such a familiar way. “You talk as if we know each other.”
“We may not have met in person, but we certainly do know each other. I’ve been with you,” he tapped his head, “for months.”
“So you’re saying you are a figment of my imagination?”
One perfectly sculpted eyebrow rose at that. “Don’t be obtuse, Eden. You know perfectly well I’m real. And you also know perfectly well where you know me from.”
She sighed, not wanting to accept the truth. “My dreams,” she finally breathed.
He nodded, satisfied, then drank from his cup again. A server took that moment to enter the room with their food. Steam rose from the covered trays and a delectable scent wafted to her nose.
The server set a covered plate in front of her, then with a flourish unveiled it. On the plate was a thick piece of meat—wonderfully bloody, just the way she liked it—vegetables and some kind of rice mixture. It smelled and looked delicious. Her stomach rumbled in agreement.
Bael waved his hand toward the meal. “Eat, and you can tell me why you are here.”
She picked up the fork and knife and cut into her meat. It was like slicing butter. She put it in her mouth and groaned as it literally melted in her mouth. She’d never tasted anything like it.
“Good Lord, that’s an amazing piece of meat.”
Bael smiled. “I’m sure he would thank you for that, but I’m pretty sure the Lord had nothing to do with it.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she continued eating, moaning every so often at the deliciousness of the meal. She couldn’t help it. It was like having sex. But in her mouth.
As she thought that, more sordid images flashed in her mind.
She on her knees in front of him, his engorged cock in her hand. She was licking the length of it and sucking eagerly on the knob.
She shook her head to clear the image. The ache between her legs intensified, and she squirmed a little on her chair to ease the discomfort.
He was watching her when she did this as if he’d known what she’d seen in her mind. As if he’d sent her the thought.
With the steak finished, she picked at the vegetables and watched Bael as he ate. She watched the movement of his mouth and found it mesmerizing and arousing. He had full lips and they looked soft. She couldn’t help but wonder what they would feel like on her skin.
The second that thought crossed her mind, he smiled, and his gaze lifted to meet hers. The look in his eyes slammed her right in the gut and threatened to venture lower. She crossed her legs to try and stop it.
“I’m looking for someone,” she said, trying to get her mind off how devastating he was and back on the reason she’d come to this place.
He lifted that eyebrow again. “Who?”
“A woman named Lilith Grae.”
She watched his face, looking for signs of recognition. There weren’t any, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. He could be an accomplished liar. She’d met many before.
“What makes you think she came to Threshold?”
“Instinct,” she said. “And I followed that big, dumb stonehead out here from a club that I believe she frequented. Plus, he mentioned her, and the fact that I should forget about it.”
“So naturally that made you even more curious.”
“Naturally.”
He smiled at that, then leaned back in his chair. “What does she look like, this woman?”
Eden took out a folded picture of Lilith from her pocket and slid it across the table to him. He didn’t look at it, but said, “Leave it with me, and if I see this girl or hear of her, I’ll get in contact with you.”
“Thank you.”
He inclined his head. “Of course. Do you know where you are staying?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Well, if you are so inclined, I have an empty room in my home. You’d be more than welcome to stay.”
There was a little gleam in his eyes that came with the invitation and it made her belly and thighs tense again. He was potent, this man. More potent than any person she’d met before. It was obvious that he’d had a lot of practice in seduction and in the act itself. It rippled around him like an aura, taunting her, tempting her.
“That’s kind of you. I’ll think about it.”
“I’m sure you will.”
Eden took that as a cue to leave. She stood, her knees weak, and set her napkin on the table. “Thank you for the meal.”
He inclined his head. “It was my pleasure.”
She turned to go, then paused and glanced over her shoulder. “If you see her...”
“I will find you, be certain of that.”
She nodded her thanks, but put a hand on her gut where it churned and rolled unpleasantly. She didn’t like his last statement one bit. It was a veiled threat—she was certain of that. It scared her a little. And aroused her at the same time.
Bael wasn’t a man to be trifled with, that was obvious. He’d been warm and pleasant and seemingly helpful to her, and she had to admit she found him extremely attractive, but she instinctively knew he was bad news. Especially for her. And tha
t just made her desire him all the more.
Durt was at her side the second she stepped out of the other room. “I thought you was a dead woman.”
“Don’t worry. I’m good at taking care of myself.” Eden looked around and noticed that the tavern was empty, save for the barkeep wiping down the counter and putting up the bar stools. Closing time already? She didn’t think she’d been having supper for that long.
Durt tsked at her. “That may be, but Lord Bael is one bad dude. If he wants to talk to you alone, that usually means you is dead.”
Eden gestured to the empty bar. “What’s happening here?”
“Time to go, it is.”
“But I have more questions to ask.”
“Will have to wait until morning.” Durt grabbed her arm and escorted her toward the door.
“Where am I supposed to go until then?” she asked as the little goblin pushed open the wooden door and hustled her out.
“I find you a place. Cheap but safe.”
She stepped out into the chilly night. Durt came out behind her, chatting incessantly about the place where he was going to take her.
“Good place, don’t you worry.”
She hadn’t taken but four steps when an imposing figure stepped out of the shadows in front of her.
“I told you to leave this alone.”
He grabbed her before she could protest. By the time she took in a breath to scream, she was being carried through the streets by a large, hairy white wolf.
Chapter Eight
Eden dropped to the gravel in a back alley. This time, though, she didn’t land on her ass. The second her feet touched ground she was swinging at her kidnapper. But she twisted the wrong way and turned her ankle. Pain seared up her calf but she didn’t let it stop her from attacking.
“You son of a bitch!”
He dodged her foot easily, dancing just out of reach of her leg. She tried again, but the animal was too nimble. He regarded her with those pale eyes as if he wanted to play. She shook her head and turned to limp away.