Seducing the Dark Prince

by Jane Kindred

“Did you have any trouble getting Oliver Queen home?”

  Theia laughed at the Green Arrow reference—probably a little too enthusiastically. “No, he was pretty subdued. I straightened him out about Leo. He shouldn’t give you guys any more trouble.”

  “Thei...is there anything you want to tell me?”

  “Tell you? What would I want to tell you?”

  “Is he there with you right now?”

  Theia felt her face blaze scarlet. “What? Why would he be here?”

  Rhea sighed into the phone. “You really think I’m dumb, don’t you?”

  “What in the world are you talking about?”

  “I may not be the one getting a master’s degree in molecular biology, missy, but I know when something’s going on with you. We shared a womb. And Rafe’s alarm has been set to record and report entries at the security gate ever since the paparazzi incident. I saw your key code on the security log from this morning when you came to get Lucien’s car.”

  “Oh. Fudge.”

  “You slept with him.”

  “In the sense that we spent the night together in the same bed? Yes. His sister told me I had to wake him up every two hours to check his responses, so I brought him back to Phoebe’s place, and we ended up talking after I woke him up. That’s when I straightened him out about Leo. And Dev. We didn’t quite get to Rafe because the sun came up, but I’m pretty sure he’s not going after any of our family members again.” Theia was talking fast, trying to avoid a lull in the conversation that would let Rhea pin her down on what had happened today. Which was of course a dead giveaway that something had.

  “You talked.”

  “Mostly.”

  “Theia. I can’t believe you’re holding out on me. I could hear it in your voice the minute you answered the phone. You just got back from his place, didn’t you? You’ve been there all day, and he screwed your brains out. The lunatic who tried to kill my boyfriend screwed your fancy little molecular-biologist brains out. And you loved it.”

  “I was not there all day.”

  “Ha!”

  “And there was no screwing.”

  “Theia.”

  “I...there might have been...licking.”

  “Oh my God. Who licked whom? I want details. Juicy, disgusting details. It’s my birthright.”

  “That is not even a thing.”

  “It is so a thing. Leo is out hunting, and you’re hoarding ice cream, Puddleglum and juicy licking details. I’m coming over there.”

  “Don’t you dare. There is not enough ice cream for you. It’s Häagen-Dazs Deep Chocolate Peanut Butter, and it’s all mine.” Theia realized the phone had gone dead. “Goddammit, Rhe.” There was no way her story would hold up under Rhea’s in-person scrutiny.

  Chapter 14

  Luckily, Rhea brought her own ice cream—a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie.

  Theia opened the door in her PJs and looked down at a pair of fluffy slippers that matched her own. “I compliment you on your excellent taste in footwear.”

  Rhea pushed her way in. “They’re yours. I stole them the last time I visited you in Flag.”

  “I thought I’d left them at the Laundromat.”

  “You did. That’s where I stole them.”

  “Dammit, Rhe.” Theia had spent hours online finding a replacement pair.

  While Theia took her ice cream from the freezer and grabbed some spoons, Rhea commandeered the papasan chair.

  “So spill,” said Rhea after Theia tossed her a spoon. “How exactly did you get from wounded commando recovery to licking? And who licked whom?”

  Theia sat at the breakfast bar separating the living room from the kitchen, swiveling on her stool so she could see Rhea without facing her. “He told me what Smok Consulting does—they clean up paranormal situations that get out of hand. It complements the biotech business, where they’re working on developing pharmaceuticals to suppress the effects of certain switched-on genes—”

  “Blah, blah, sciencey words, blah, blah, and?”

  “And Lucien needed an outlet that would let him balance the harm he felt Smok was doing, so he started going after what he considered to be dangerous elements. The serum-tipped arrows are specially designed to destroy unnatural creatures.”

  “And he shot one into my very human boyfriend, got his ass handed to him and you nursed him back to health with erotic licking.”

  “That is not what happened.”

  “Was it like this?” Rhea licked a ribbon of fudge off the back of her spoon.

  “Oh my God. I did not lick him.”

  “Aha. So he licked you. Did you pass out after? No? Didn’t think so. My man can lick your man under the table any day.” Rhea paused. “Which does not sound quite like I meant it to.”

  “He’s not my man.” Theia kept her head over her pint to keep the heat in her cheeks from showing, but Rhea never missed anything.

  “You are such a terrible liar.”

  Considering everything she’d been keeping from Rhea for years, Theia might not be the greatest at verbal dissembling, but she seemed to be doing a bang-up job at sins of omission.

  “So where is he now?”

  “He got called away to a job with Lucy.”

  “Ah, Lucy. The bitchy twin.”

  “Yeah, you two have a lot in common.”

  “Yeah, we’re both the hot one. Kind of gives you fuel for a twin fantasy, though.”

  Theia nearly choked on her ice cream. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Not us, you dork. Ew. I meant him and her. You ever think about...?”

  Theia gaped at her. “She’s female, in case you didn’t notice.”

  “What, you’ve never hung out at Muffy’s Dive Bar? I thought that was what college was for.”

  Apparently Theia wasn’t the only one who was good at keeping secrets. “You are totally blowing my mind right now.”

  Rhea winked, digging into her pint. “That’s what she said.”

  “Speaking of dive bars...” Theia cleared her throat. “Do you know anything about a place called Polly’s Grotto in West Sedona?”

  “Polly’s Grotto?” Rhea sucked on her spoon. “Sounds vaguely familiar, but I don’t think I’ve ever been there. Why?”

  “Not sure.” Theia dug for a vein of peanut butter. “Lucien had to meet a client there earlier today, and it just seemed like an odd place for a meeting. Even for a paranormal cleaner.” She pondered her scoop. “I don’t think the place was even open yet, so whom was he meeting?”

  “I can ask Leo about it. He knows a lot of sketchy characters from his years as an immortal.” Rhea studied her for a moment. “So it sounds like you’re kind of all in with this guy, huh?”

  “I don’t know about...” Theia felt her cheeks warming again. “Yeah. I guess maybe I am.”

  Rhea smiled. “It’s about time. You’ve been weird about dating ever since that reading I gave you. I was beginning to think you were going to die an old maid.” She ducked as Theia flicked peanut butter off her spoon. It landed on Puddleglum, who was hovering at the top of the papasan chair in hopes of sneaking a bite of Rhea’s ice cream. The cat gave Theia an offended look but began studiously grooming the peanut butter glob from his fur.

  “Just promise me you’ll be careful,” Rhea added after a moment. “This quest of his to hunt down ‘dangerous elements’ could be a hard habit to break.” She smiled ruefully. “Take it from a hunting widow. And if he’s still harboring doubts about any ‘unnatural’ members of our family, he could be trouble for all of us. I’d hate for him to end up being that dark prince you worry about.”

  Theia put the lid on her ice cream with a thoughtful nod and gave Rhea a sly look from under her lashes. “Guess you’re not quite as dumb as you look.”

  “Yeah, well, joke’s on
you, genius, ’cause you look exactly like me.”

  Theia got up to put her pint in the freezer. “No, I don’t. Moonpie.”

  * * *

  Lucy eyed Lucien as their escort at University Medical Center led them off the helipad. “You didn’t see the doctor like I told you to.”

  “I was busy.”

  “You know that’s going to hurt like hell when the doc has to break up all that ecto gel. Especially if it completely solidifies and the bone has to be rebroken to set right.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Hope her pussy was worth it.”

  “Shut up, Lu.” Lucien held the door to the stairs for her. “And you bet your ass it was.”

  Their client, a frazzled-looking but distinguished older gentleman, was waiting in the hallway outside the closed-off wing. “Thank you for coming so quickly, Mr. Smok. I’m Roger Fitzhugh, the hospital administrator.” He shook Lucien’s hand, looking past Lucy like she was Lucien’s assistant. “It’s here in the NICU.” He indicated the double doors beside them but seemed reluctant to open them.

  “The NICU?” Lucy frowned. “You’re sure you’re dealing with a poltergeist? They generally attach themselves to adolescents. Sometimes prepubescent children, but I can’t imagine what would prompt such activity around newborns.”

  “I suppose the diagnosis is up to your team. I’m no expert. But...something is in there, and it isn’t happy.”

  “Is the ward clear?”

  “Yes, we moved all the patients down to another level and sealed off the area.”

  “All right. We’ll handle it from here, Mr. Fitzhugh. Thank you.” Lucy opened the door, and Fitzhugh stepped back.

  The air was thick with charged particles as the doors swung shut behind them, making the hairs on Lucien’s arms stand on end.

  “This feels like a haunting, not a poltergeist.”

  Lucy nodded. “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “Are we even equipped to open a gate?”

  Lucy reached into her bag and pulled out her kit. “We should probably draw some blood now and be ready to use it. I’ve got the catalyst.”

  Lucien took off his coat and rolled up his sleeve.

  She watched him with a frown. “Are you sure you’re up to it? I could do this one.”

  “You know Edgar wouldn’t like it.”

  “Since when do you care what Edgar wants?”

  “I care when he gets mad at you and treats you like shit for something I did.”

  “Aw. I had no idea you cared, baby brother.”

  “Shut up and take the blood before it gets any freakier in here.”

  While Lucy took the needle out of its packaging, Lucien swabbed his arm and placed it on the nurse’s station for her to tap a vein and draw. The same kit was useful for attracting revenant bloodsuckers. The only difference in dealing with apparitions was the catalyst, a compound developed by Smok Biotech that reacted with the supposedly infernal component in the Smok blood to create a thinning of the spectral veil that could open a gate to the other side. Useful for sending the already dead and disembodied packing.

  Lucy filled the vial and transferred the needle to the glass tube containing the catalyst, red blood swirling into the clear liquid. “Ready to go.”

  “All right, let’s do this.”

  As they moved down the corridor toward the nursery, the resistance from the malevolent spirit was palpable. Something definitely didn’t want them here. To prove the point, a gurney came flying at them from a side corridor, and they jumped out of the way. It slammed into the wall hard enough to crumple the frame.

  “There.” Lucy pointed toward the window of the nursery as they straightened. A shadow figure stood on the other side, the darkness of its misty form pulsing with rage. She raised her voice and spoke to it. “You don’t belong here. It’s time for you to go.”

  A vibration of sound, almost subsonic, rose from a deep rumble to an ear-piercing shriek, and the glass of the observation window shattered outward.

  Lucien instinctively turned and covered Lucy, flinching as a few shards struck his back.

  Lucy shoved him off. “Dammit, Lucien. I can take care of myself.”

  “I was making sure the vial wasn’t hit.”

  “You were being a misogynist ass.”

  Supplies started hurtling toward them, and Lucien ducked a tray of surgical tools. “We’d better get this done before that thing takes an eye out. You want to approach it? Be my guest.”

  Lucy covered her head with her jacket and darted forward, the vial in her fist. The shadow charged her, and Lucy stiffened with a jolt as it went through her, now swirling between them.

  “Hit the juice.” Lucy whirled toward him. “Now!”

  Armed with the violet wand from Lucy’s bag—designed to generate electric shocks for sex play, though Lucien really didn’t want to know if Lucy ever used it for that purpose—Lucien hit the button as the spirit flung itself in his direction. The spark flared in the darkness, illuminating the human shape within. A teenage girl stood petrified in the violet glow, and for a moment he could see her face, twisted with grief and anger.

  Lucy smashed the vial on the floor in the center of the spirit’s form, and the ghost began to scream. The spattered liquid spread, thinning the veil where Lucien had her trapped, kept in place with repeated jolts from the wand, while the air filled with violet sparks and the smell of ozone.

  The wailing sound, Lucien realized, wasn’t a wordless cry. She was screaming, “No!” and holding out her arms toward him. Lucien felt sick. There was nothing he could do to stop it now. The void swallowed her up, and only a soft weeping lingered as the thickness in the air dissipated. He heard a single word in it, a name: “Emma.”

  Lucy pushed her hair back from her forehead, holding her hand to the top of her head for a moment. “Jesus. That was brutal. Do you think that was her name? Emma?”

  Lucien shut off the wand and dropped it into the bag. “No. I think it was her baby’s.”

  Lucy’s hand dropped to her side. “Damn. That’s why the NICU.”

  “I hate this job.”

  “Yeah.” Lucy straightened her coat and picked up the bag. The dimly lit ward looked ordinary now.

  In the waiting area, Roger Fitzhugh got to his feet as they emerged through the double doors. “Did you find it?”

  Lucy nodded. “All clear.”

  “And...the price?”

  Lucy handled the financial arrangements. Lucien had done it a few times, and it always left a bad taste in his mouth. His sister was only too happy to step in and demonstrate her superior skills—a performance for the benefit of a man who wasn’t even here to appreciate it.

  She considered for a moment, looking tired. “It was a garden-variety haunting, Mr. Fitzhugh. It’s on the house.”

  Lucien studied her as they headed back out to the helipad. The fee for any consulting job was the same. The price was a soul. Lucien had always assumed it meant nothing more than a life—as if a life weren’t everything—but it was the Smok reputation that mattered. Clients believed the souls were collected for hell.

  Lucy noticed him watching her. “What?”

  “That was uncharacteristically nice of you.”

  “I wasn’t being nice. We got our soul. No need for another.”

  “Yeah, well.” Lucien shrugged. “I suspect you may have one yourself. But don’t worry, Lu. Your secret’s safe with me.”

  * * *

  It was just after two in the morning when Lucy dropped him off. In addition to the aches and pains, he was really feeling the drain of the night’s work. It was only a few milliliters of blood, but the opening of a gate always took something out of him. And it was just another reminder that he was running out of time. If the Smok legacy was true, he would become something inhuman before he too
k his place in hell—what form that would take, the legend didn’t say. But Lucien wasn’t taking any chances. He had to finish developing the anti-transformative.

  Lucien peeled out of his suit and lay on top of the covers, too tired to turn down the bed. It still smelled of Theia.

  She was still part demon. That hadn’t changed. But he didn’t give a damn. Lucien laughed at the inadvertent pun. Whatever she was—whatever he was—Theia made him feel there was a reason to get up in the morning. And that, he realized, was something he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

  Chapter 15

  After receiving a call from Leo at the crack of dawn to let her know he was back from the Hunt, Rhea went home from their impromptu pajama party. With a parting shot at Rhea about being penis whipped, Theia went back to bed and had vague dreams about Rhea’s Náströnd, the Shore of Corpses in the Norse underworld where Rhea and Leo’s astral projection in dragon form had rescued Leo’s disembodied soul. Images of rotting corpses, reanimated and climbing from a foul primordial soup, were enough to shake her out of sleep, glad of the daylight. At the periphery of the dream’s fading memory was the wounded blue wyvern diving into the hell lake pursued by the cockatrice.

  Theia stood in the shower, goose bumps on her flesh despite the hot water, trying to wash away the image of those sloughing, scrabbling corpses—revenants for certain, if anything was. Revenants and cockatrices and wyverns, oh my.

  “Wyverns?” Theia opened her eyes as she spoke the word aloud, the brilliant blue letters floating in the air as though the word was significant. Where had that come from? She’d thought of the creature as a dragon when she’d dreamed of it before but not a specific breed. Maybe it was something she’d seen in a video game. Or one of Rhea’s books.

  The doorbell was ringing when she turned off the water. Theia jumped out of the tub and grabbed her robe from the back of the door, throwing it on over wet skin as she ran to answer the bell.

  Lucien stood on the stoop holding his phone. “I got the replacement but I still couldn’t call you because I don’t have your number. So I thought I’d drive across town and tell you that.” He grinned then cocked his head as he took in her appearance with a sideways smile. “Funny...that’s just how I fantasize you.”