by Gina LaManna
“Just trying not to see my fries for the second time. Your Residuals are something else.”
“If you’re not arresting me for any of it, then I think we’re done here.”
“What do you know about Lillie and Maybelline?” I asked. “The elves recently found dead. We know they frequented here, so cut any crap about not knowing them.”
“I haven’t lied to you yet, have I, Detective?” Bran gave a pleased smile. “I know them, sure. They came around from time to time.”
“We have an eyewitness placing the three elves at Dust the night before two of them were kidnapped on the street. It was said they left here in a rush—as if trying to get away from someone. Any thoughts on who that might have been?”
“I’m not often down in the club for very long,” Bran said with a lewd smile. “Once I meet my lady for the night, I retire to my private quarters. It’s much less... crowded up here.”
“Yes,” I echoed, glancing around at the full rack of liquor to the side of the hot tub. “Looks peaceful.”
“You should come visit sometime, Detective,” Bran said, sizing me up as he shifted his weight to better see me from the hot tub. “I bet you’d look hot all dressed up.”
Matthew’s fists noticeably clenched. The air cooled twenty degrees.
“Bring your squeeze,” Bran said with a wink toward Matthew. “The two of you would look good together. Good for publicity, too.”
It was a testament to Bran’s powers as a sorcerer that he didn’t back down from Matthew. Because I didn’t want this hotheaded showdown to turn into a scene, I rested my fingers gently on Matthew’s arm.
“As a matter of fact, we might take you up on that offer,” I told Bran. “We’re not done here. In the meantime, if you hear anything, or remember anything about Linsey, Maybelline, Lillie, or Cynthia, Comm us immediately.”
“Sure thing, Detective.” Bran gave a salute, then closed his eyes again and sunk up to his chin. With a wave of his hand, bubbles erupted around him.
As we climbed down the stairs and made our way out onto the street, Matthew’s gaze slid to mine. “What did you think of Bran?”
I considered. “I think he’s a very powerful sorcerer, and he knows it. He’s cocky, confident, and he doesn’t have to work hard for attention. I think he enjoys being the more desirable cousin, and I bet he keeps Damien around for the sole purpose of putting him down and looking like a king next to him.”
“Harsh,” Matthew said. “But I would agree.”
“He has enough power to use a Dead Head, or better yet—to hire someone else to use the Dead Head so the Residuals aren’t on him.”
“Does Bran have enough power to extract a certain elfin magick?”
“I hate to make assumptions, but I would guess the answer is yes. I think we need to keep an eye on him.”
“They could be working as a team,” Matthew mused. “Damien and Bran...or someone else. The club is a cesspool of dirty dealings. That’s a slippery slope to the greedy and morally gray.”
“I agree,” I said. “But for now, we have nothing solid on either of them.”
“Then we’ll have to find something.” Matthew gave me a thin smile. “Enjoy your date, Detective. I’ll meet you back here at midnight.”
“Excuse me?”
“We’re going undercover tonight.”
“We’ll be recognized.”
“Probably,” Matthew agreed. “But we have to start somewhere.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I don’t buy it. I think you’re trying to make sure my date doesn’t last all night long.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that, Detective.” Matthew smiled at me. “By the way, bring your Stunner.”
“To the date or the club?”
“Both.”
“Hey, now,” I said, raising my finger in protest. “I’m allowed to have dates where I leave my weaponry at home.”
“Not in that dress, you don’t,” Matthew said, and his eyes got glazed as if he were picturing every detail of the exquisite fabric. “There’s nothing innocent about that dress, Detective. I’ll see you tonight.”
Chapter 12
Nothing innocent my ass, I grumbled as I slammed the door to my apartment shut.
“Where’s my dress, people?” I asked my furniture. “Marla?”
“Oh, hello, Detective!” Willa popped out from behind Carl. “You’re home early.”
“I am?” I glanced around me, scanning the room. “Did I know you’d be here?”
“Er—not exactly.” Willa rung her hands in front of her body and her cheeks flushed. Her blond hair bounced around her face as she let out a nervous, high-pitched giggle. “I just sort of needed to borrow something. One of my heels broke”—she thumbed over her shoulder to where the offending shoe sat, separated from its spikey heel—“and Jack let me in here to borrow a pair of flip flops.”
“Oh, that’s fine. I’m glad Jack actually used his brain for once,” I said. “Did you find what you needed?”
“Well, that’s not the full story, actually,” Willa said. “You know your dress?”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “The red one?”
Willa nodded. “It’s probably just best if I show you.”
With that, she stepped aside and gestured to my bedroom. I gave her a curious look and crossed through, stopping in the doorway to find my coatrack propped in front of the mirror with my brand-new dress draped over Marla’s spindly limbs in a way that looked oddly flattering.
“Before you say anything,” Marla drawled in her raspy, cigar-smoke voice, “just have a look at me, won’t you doll? It’s been so long since I’ve been allowed to look fabulous. Tell me I look ravishing, dahling, just tell me once.”
I leaned against the door, huffing with my arms crossed. “I hate to admit it, but you do look great. Why does my coatrack look better in a gown than I do?”
“You’re not mad?” Willa asked. “Marla promised me that you let her try your stuff on all the time.”
“My coatrack is a liar,” I said, “but of course I’m not mad. Marla’s conned me into doing worse. Like agreeing to wear the stupid red dress in the first place.”
“Speaking of red dresses and dates, you need to get ready,” Willa said. “Grey will be here in less than an hour, and your hair is a rat’s nest.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“We’re best friends!” Willa chirped. “We tell each other things like that. Now, lose the shirt. Come on, we’re all women here—it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
Grouchy, I stripped down to my underwear and felt like a child as Willa helped shove me into the dress and zip it up. She patted me down in random places that felt quite invasive and hiked up my breasts in a way that had me barely able to see my feet beneath them.
“Can’t breathe,” I said. “Top heavy.”
“Okay, I did the corset back maybe a bit too tight.” Willa graciously let it out, and my feet reappeared. “Though your chest looked ah-mazing. Grey wouldn’t have been able to take his eyes off you.”
“Don’t care about that,” I said. “Now, I need your help with one more thing.”
“Can I do your makeup?” Willa asked. “Pretty please?”
“No. I need you to help me find an inconspicuous spot to place my Stunner.”
“But—”
“I’m taking the Stunner.”
“That’s so uncivilized. And very unromantic. He might be feeling you up one minute, and then whabam! Hard, cold metal next. Really, Detective, I think you should lay off the weaponry.”
“Nobody’s feeling anything up,” I said. “We need to hurry. Where can I put a weapon that won’t be noticed in a pat-down search?”
Willa eyed me up and down. “Well, I can think of one place, but you’re not gonna like it...”
Half an hour later, Willa had me tied back, pinned down, made over, and God knows what else. I had a Stunner wedged uncomfortably close to my erogenous zones, but at least it was loaded and
invisible to the public eye—a true feat, considering the fact my dress skimmed every curve of my body and left no room for error. I was tapping my foot, waiting at the door, when a knock sounded that sent my heart skittering.
Heart thumping, I wondered if my nerves existed because this felt like my first date in ages, or if it was something more. A part of me couldn’t stop thinking about Matthew: where he was, what he was doing, what he was thinking.
As my hand hit the knob, I swallowed hard as a realization hit me. I did want tonight to be a date. With one change. I wanted Matthew to be on the other side of my door.
I glanced at my clock and found Hector’s face reading quarter to seven. Grey was early. Twisting the handle, I yanked the door open and plastered a smile on my face. None of this mattered because tonight was just business.
“My God,” a low voice murmured. “You look gorgeous.”
“Matthew?” I gaped at the tall, stunning figure, then stuck my head into the hallway and craned my neck around. “What are you doing here?”
“Checking on you, Detective.” Matthew’s eyes flicked over me, landing on my face, skimming over my bare shoulders toward the deep V in my dress’s neckline, down to the curve of my waist. By the time he pulled his gaze back to mine, his eyes glowed in a deep, deadly black with flecks of starlight glittering throughout.
“Checking on me?” I was torn in my reaction. “What do you mean checking on me?”
A huge, miraculous wash of relief flooded my body at the sight of Matthew—my vampire. I felt startled at the thought, wondering where it’d come from. I’d never considered whether I was his or he was mine before. That was a vampire thought, a werewolf notion—not something a witch felt. Witches didn’t have fated mates—not like the other supernaturals.
“I was worried about you,” Matthew said. “I suspected you were working a case not reported to the NYPD.”
I threw the door the rest of the way open and stood there, arms crossed over the blood red fabric, my eyes leveled on my vampire. Then I turned, retreated into my apartment, and was vaguely aware of Matthew following me and closing the door quietly behind him.
I stood still, feeling the race of my heart, the conflict in my chest. I could smell his unique, spicy scent and sensed his sturdy presence just inches away. When his fingers skimmed a delicate line down the side of my neck, I shuddered under his touch, shifted closer toward him. My eyes closed as I sunk into the moment, needing for it to stay magical for just one second longer.
I heard the door open and shut again—Willa, I thought. I’d completely forgotten about her at the sight of Matthew. The sound of distinctly human footsteps retreated along the hall, down the creaking stairs to the first floor, leaving us alone.
Matthew leaned forward, his breath hot on my neck. “I can’t stand to see you upset.”
“Then why are we doing this?” I let him spin me around to face him. My head sunk forward, rested on his chest. “I hate it.”
“You said you needed time.”
I stepped closer to him. Grasped his hand, felt the cool, marble touch beneath mine. Our fingers twined through one another’s, and I closed my eyes, savoring the touch as I pressed his palm over my heart. My skin was warm, flushed; his was still, stone.
“What do you want from me?” he asked, his breath skimming over my neck.
I shivered, tilted my lips up, and leaned forward. What I wanted was too much to put into words. Too difficult to voice, too complex to truly understand. I just wanted him, period. And I wanted to know that he wanted—needed—me back.
Matthew inhaled a deep breath, an unnecessary action. A stalling tactic. Another breath hitched as he brought a hand up, rested his palm against my cheek. My face was still perched, waiting for a touch from his, but I saw in that moment the kiss wasn’t coming.
“You didn’t come over here tonight for me, did you?” I murmured, my eyes pooling with tears. “You came over here as a warning to Grey.”
Matthew didn’t deny my accusations. His eyes darkened, hardened. We both knew that’s why he’d come. The vampire’s scent would be on me, in my apartment, all over the red dress purchased with Grey’s gold. It was a move for Grey—not for me.
“I think you should go,” I said. “I’m sorry, but Matthew—I can’t keep doing this.”
We stood nose to nose for a long moment, watching one another, holding in a tense, weighty silence. A part of me longed for Matthew to crash through my expectations, to confess that he’d come here exclusively for me—not as a warning to Grey, but I knew deep down that wasn’t happening. He wasn’t ready to break the rules, and I wasn’t going to budge. And the rules explicitly forbid us from being together.
Without a word, Matthew turned on his heel and left.
He closed the door smoothly. He had too much restraint to slam it, though the very apartment was rocked by his departure. Even my furniture seemed frightened into silence.
“I’m sorry,” someone finally whispered from the bedroom. It was Marla. “So sorry, honey.”
I returned to my room, grabbed the coatrack, and replaced her by the door. “It’s best this way.”
“For what it’s worth,” Marla said, “I think you did a good thing. The man loves you, it’s clear. You love him. You had to let him know, and he’s got to know, too. He’s got to realize that being away from you is killing him, and that no rule will stand in the way of destined love.”
“I just wish—”
My wishes were washed away by a second knock. It was frustrating that a part of me wanted that to be Matthew, returning to kick the door down and demand we figure things out. To sweep my face in his stony palms and drag me to the bedroom with a toe-curling, gut-wrenching kiss. But I knew, even as my fingers closed around the knob, that it wasn’t him.
“Grey,” I said softly. “Thanks for coming.”
Grey studied me, his eyes wise and understanding. “I’m sorry.”
“Please,” I said, feeling the warble in my voice. “It’s not your fault.”
Grey stepped through the door, cautiously raising a hand to my shoulder. He didn’t touch me; he merely waited, the invitation open. It was just what I needed... a friend.
I stepped underneath his arm, rested my head against his chest, and felt my eyes prick with tears. “I’m so sorry.”
Grey’s arms closed gently around me, one of his hands running smoothly over my back. “You have nothing to apologize for.” His voice hitched, a tremor of anger behind his words. “I’m sorry, Detective.”
Chapter 13
Grey had hired a carriage to take us to the casino. As we rode across town, I could feel his frustration with Matthew. I knew he could smell the vampire. I knew he sensed my mood, my despair. It wasn’t Grey’s place to comfort me when Matthew’s absence made me ache, but he did anyway.
“We can always reschedule,” Grey said as the carriage pulled to a stop in front of the casino. He leaned over and rested his chin against the top of my head. He was warm, his chest hard, his touch tender. “It’s probably not a good time to drag you into this mess.”
I pulled back from him and shook my head. “No, it’s good. I want to be here with you.”
“Well then, Detective.” Grey held out an arm. “You really do look beautiful, tears and all. Do you need a moment, or shall we head inside?”
I looped my arm through his. “Thanks for everything. Let’s do this.”
Grey gave me a thin smile. “I’m afraid I haven’t fixed anything. I only wish I could. Believe me, I wish I could.”
I patted his arm and forced a brighter smile. “You’ve done plenty, trust me. Now, I don’t want to sulk all night—let’s go catch some scheming idiots.”
Grey laughed. “I’ll bet you have a Stunner on you.”
“You can bet your bottom dollar I do.”
“Where’s it hidden?” Grey winked. “I’m officially stumped.”
I crooked an eyebrow. “A lady’s got to leave something to the imagination.�
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“I hope you can have a little fun tonight,” Grey said after we climbed from the carriage. He slipped his arm around my waist. “I hope this will keep your mind off things. Let you relax.”
“Not that relaxed,” I said, reaching back and moving his hand a few inches higher. “Nice try.”
Grey gave me an impish smile. “It got a smile out of you, didn’t it? Plus, we’re supposed to be pretending we’re madly in love. Or, at least, lust. And I take my work very seriously.”
I laughed, and I had to admit it felt good. He might be playful in his affections, but I sensed nothing more than a true friendliness. It was hard not to enjoy Grey’s company for what it was—a good time with a handsome, intelligent, funny friend.
“How do you know this person we’re helping?” I asked. “Is he a fellow...”
I meant to say wolf, but that felt derogatory and, more importantly, false. I wasn’t sure exactly what species Grey was. Unlike the werewolves that ruled the borough with the Sixth Pack, Grey was different. Not only could he shift forms whenever he wanted, unlike werewolves who could only transform at a full moon, but he was fully controlled in his second form. He didn’t defer to animal instincts, but was a thinking, feeling person in a wolf’s body.
Grey also had a coat of snowy white and tattoos along his arm that signaled some sort of rank—though lately, I’d grown to suspect that he wasn’t part of the Sixth Pack at all. Yet somehow, he commanded respect from the wolves of the borough, and I couldn’t figure out why. Curious, I thought. Very, very curious.
And now there was someone in trouble—someone he cared enough about to interfere on their behalf, to ask for help from the cops. Very strange indeed.
“Things between us are complicated,” Grey said. “I’m sure you understand.”
I sensed he was closing off the questions for good on the subject. I owed him privacy on the subject after all he’d done for me. He’d saved my life and bolstered my confidence, protected my heart when I’d been at my worst.
“What exactly are we looking for?” I asked in the same light, fluffy tone. “Besides your hand creeping down my back?”