by L. K. Below
“Lori? Sorry, bud, you’re outta luck tonight.” The voice belonged to Ritchie, the bartender. Lori turned her head slightly as she set her empty cup on the counter. With only three people to act as a buffer between her and them, Ritchie spoke with a dark-haired man well over six feet tall, dressed casually in dark jeans. Unlike most of the posers gathered tonight, he had an understated, authentic look. It set him apart.
She still didn’t want to talk to him.
“She’s in one of her moods. You can’t tell if you don’t know her. See? Watch this guy.”
Lori cursed at her own lack of attention. Ritchie’s words were all the warning she got before the blue-haired punk approached. She would have glared away his advance if she had been paying attention.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
She didn’t twitch a muscle. Maybe if she ignored him, he would go away, like an itch.
“I asked if I could buy you a drink.”
Maybe not. That philosophy rarely worked, anyway.
The crowd nearby hushed. Those who knew her craned their necks, waiting to see what she would do. She was not in the mood to disappoint them. Maybe if she put on a show with this guy, the other would leave her alone. Not that she was afraid of him–she just didn’t have the time to deal with men right now. Other than the Spenta Michos.
Without glancing at the punk, she said with disinterest, “I heard you.” She reached behind her and grabbed her coffee mug, which Scissors had been thoughtful enough to refill.
“I’ll pay for that.” The punk reached into his pocket.
Lori offered him a cutting glare. “I’m not interested, little man.”
Her comment took him aback for a moment. She had tried to hit low, figuring he would be self-conscious about his height. He hesitated, obviously unsure, but unfortunately he was a persistent one. Or maybe this was to her benefit. The better the show she put on, the more likely everyone else would take the hint and leave her alone.
Especially the tall, dark-haired man talking to Ritchie.
“The band’s pretty good. Would–”
Slowly, she set down her cup and turned to look him in the eye. Venom entered her voice as she bit off her words. “I’m. Not. Interested.”
He seemed to think himself quite the catch, because he opened his mouth to make yet another proposition.
She cut him off. “It’s in your best interest to leave.” When he didn’t move, she raised her voice. “Now.”
He left.
Hopefully she had made herself clear to all the other poor saps here tonight. She hated repeating herself. As she sipped her coffee, she returned her attention to Ritchie’s conversation.
“See?” the bartender was telling the taller man. “If you want a night with Lori, it won’t be tonight. Wait and try some other time.”
Wise advice.
“What if I’m interested in more than a night?”
Lori nearly spewed her coffee on a couple walking past. She would need to keep an eye out for this guy. He gave a whole new meaning to persistence, and he hadn’t even approached her yet. She could only hope to scare him off by giving him the cold shoulder once he did.
Luckily, Ritchie came to her rescue. “Then you’re definitely outta luck, my man. I’ve known Lori for four years and she’s never had anything longer than a one night stand. She doesn’t seem to be changing any time soon.”
“I like a challenge.”
Lori resisted the urge to bang her head against the counter. She needed to evacuate. Now. DEFCON One.
She smacked her cup on the counter as Scissors muttered to Ritchie, “Does this guy have a death wish?” Presumably he was already en route to intercept her.
Lori fumbled with her change, starting to sort out what she owed. Changing her mind, she left the cash on the counter and shoved the bus pass into her pocket.
“Leaving so soon?” A deep, masculine voice. She recognized it with an inner groan.
Too late.
She turned slowly, thinking to nip this in the bud. He stood an inch or two taller than she did in her heeled boots, which made him at least six-four. His hair was black, cut short, and he had the most brilliant blue eyes she had ever seen. His easy smile proudly displayed a set of fangs. She narrowed her eyes. A faux-vampire.
Fucking wonderful.
She had nothing against faux-vamps in general–she was friends with quite a few–but as a rule, she didn’t get involved with them. One experience had been more than enough to show her the error in that. Posing as immortals, they tended to develop something of a God-complex. Thus, they were all the more difficult to convince to let her go afterwards. And she hated persistent men.
Firming her expression, hardening her eyes and resisting the urge to clutch her heavy crucifix–not that she considered herself in danger–she said, “I’m not interested.”
His grin widened. “I haven’t asked yet. You only assume I will.” He paused, lounging against the counter. His smile grew predatory. “Or you were listening. In which case, I think you are interested. At least a little.”
Damn!
Lori refrained from scowling. Just. Her voice anything but inviting, she said, “I heard my name. And I assure you, I’m not interested in any way. I don’t get involved with faux-vamps.”
His smile never wavered. “You’re friends with one.”
“Scissors is a good person.”
“And I’m not?”
Instead of answering, she walked away. He stepped between two of the tables, blocking her path with his bulk. He didn’t intimidate her, though she was very aware of the breadth of his chest. She scowled at him. He had long since worn out his welcome.
When she opened her mouth to sting him with yet another comment, he held out his hand. “I’m Terrence Welsh.”
Lori stared at it in disbelief. Couldn’t he take a hint? And she had more than hinted, she had flat out told him she wasn’t interested. Twice.
“I don’t bite,” he joked. He must be possessed of unshakeable charm as well as persistence. “Well, that’s not entirely true.”
She ignored his extended hand and tried once more. “I don’t care who you are or how hard you try. I’m. Not. Interested.”
He sighed lightly. His hand fluttered slowly back down to his side. She lifted her eyes to his. The blue engulfed her, warm and shrewd. “Lori–can I call you Lori? Or would you prefer Miss Skein?”
Lori didn’t think. She reacted. Within five seconds, the tip of her stake pressed to his chest, over his heart. Her hand quivered. No one in Underground knew her surname.
“Let me repeat myself one last time. I’m not interested.” She left the stake digging into his chest a moment longer, despite the fact that people had started to gasp over her weapon. The expression in his eyes never changed. He didn’t speak, but he wasn’t worried, either.
Stumbling back, she eyed the crowd, hoping no one would call the cops. She shouldn’t have lost control like that. The blood rushed by her ears like a river. She should leave, but Terrence still stood in her way.
He watched her with hooded eyes. “You are quite something, my dear.”
She pushed past him. Her pulse thumped in her ears, drowning out the heavy music. As she sucked in a breath, an irresistible, primal smell surged around her.
Terrence.
She dashed out of the club. After several gulps of the cool night air, she felt more like herself. Until the rush of sound from inside indicated someone had followed her out. Without turning, she knew who that someone was.
Terrence.
Her normally manageable temper became unruly. Before she could lay into him, the Barbie Girl ringtone flayed her ears. Yanking out her cellphone, she stared at it in horror, and thumbed the button, shutting off the ridiculous sound.
Having fun, Lori Glory? met her eyes.
She might as well tie a bonnet around her head and skip on down to Hell carrying a picnic basket. Come to think of it, even Hell would be better than her night
so far.
Lori almost chucked her phone into the wall. She raised her arm, but stopped herself at the last minute. Phones were expensive. “Heaven!” she growled, even though the girl wouldn’t be able to hear her. How much jail time would she get for strangling a minor? Even though they had only seen each other for five minutes tonight, Heaven must be to blame for changing her ringtone. She shoved her phone into her pocket, then stomped off down the street. She would get the little twerp back.
Even footsteps behind her signaled that Terrence had decided to follow her. She whirled around, jabbing a finger at his chest. “You! Did you think my stake was a bluff?”
Terrence’s gaze raked her body. She balled her fists, keeping her hands at her sides.
“I’m not interested. Don’t make me repeat myself again.”
His mouth stretched in a lazy smile. “You wouldn’t kill me, Lori. You don’t have it in you.”
“Guess again.”
His fangs flashed as he grinned. Lori tore her eyes away from him and noted with relief that one of the city buses was almost to this stop. She turned back to the faux-vampire and lowered her voice. “Let me make myself clear. I never. Want to see you. Again.”
The bus doors puffed as they opened. Turning on her heel, she charged through them before they closed.
To her relief, Terrence didn’t follow.
Never had she felt more grateful to be alone. She wished for her iPod as she closed her eyes, leaning her head back in her seat.
Eventually, her thoughts sifted out the small annoyances plaguing her–Terrence and Heaven. She needed to find the Spenta Michos–that should be her single thought. If only she knew where to look. His house seemed like a good place to start, but not at this hour. She could always claim to be the Spenta Michos’s niece if caught during the day.
As soon as she reached the University, she trudged wearily back to her room. Thank the Lord, no new freshman lingered in the halls to make her night even worse. She fell onto her bed and dragged her laptop to her for a night of research and worrying. Her eyes were drifting closed by the time the sun rose, but still, she shoved herself to her feet and stumbled down the hall.
If she was going to spend time searching for the Spenta Michos, she would need someone to attend the few classes she did have and take notes for her.
She knocked on Andrew’s door. After a moment, footsteps echoed inside the room.
He yanked open his door. As his expression changed from peeved to surprised, she pushed her way into the room.
He tried in vain to flatten his hair, but gave up and asked instead, “What are you doing here so early?”
“It’s late for me,” she teased. “Be thankful the sun’s up.”
“Barely,” he grumbled. He pulled a t-shirt over his thin frame.
After a minute and several deep breaths, she managed to utter the question she had come here to ask. “I need your help.”
For the second time this morning, surprise flitted across his features. “What can I help you with?”
“I can’t make it to my classes. I’m looking for something important. So I need someone to go to my classes for me and tell me about upcoming papers, that sort of thing. I’m not sure for how long–at least the first few weeks.” She snapped her mouth shut. She had likely said more to him in the past minute than she normally did in a week.
Luckily, he understood that if she had taken the time to ask, it was important. “My brother Calvin’s here this year. Between the two of us we should make all your classes. Which ones do you have?”
Lori found a piece of paper and scribbled down two course codes, her cell number, and her email address. “Text, don’t call,” she instructed as she handed it to him. “Thanks, Andrew.”
“No problem. Any time.”
She slipped back to her room to catch a few hours of sleep.
Bookark:Chapter 2
Chapter 2
At just after six o’clock on Sunday evening, Lori slipped her bobby pin into the keyhole of the Spenta Michos’s front door. She had dressed a little bit less like she normally did–in jeans, running shoes, and a loose t-shirt–in an effort to be inconspicuous. She wore no earrings, nose ring, netted gloves, or makeup. Her hair was in a neat ponytail, out of her face in preparation for the work she had to do.
She made short work of the lock. The door swung open and she slipped inside, shutting and locking it behind her.
The room inside was a mess–unfortunately, not in the way that indicated a struggle. A small table was overturned, but it could have been knocked over in haste. She let out her breath slowly as she looked out over the hordes of books and papers. Luckily, the slowly setting sun provided enough light to see by. She couldn’t afford to turn on the lights.
She picked her way over to a coffee table and began methodically sifting through the papers on top, careful not to disturb them.
A thump sounded in the other room. She tensed. Dropping back into a defensive pose, she eased her silver dagger from the small of her back and shifted to the open doorway. Had the Spenta Michos’s kidnapper–or murderer, even–stayed behind to ensure that nobody learned of what had happened? Strangely, her instincts gave her no warning. Maybe the shock of the Spenta Michos’s disappearance had been too much for them.
Adjusting her weapon, she leaped through the door, angling her blade for the shadow’s chest.
And glanced up five inches into unworried blue eyes.
She lowered her blade, but didn’t put it away. “What are you doing here?” she hissed.
“I followed you,” Terrence said with a shrug.
“That’s stalking, you know.” She glanced to the room behind him, scouting it to ensure he was the only person to have followed her in. She didn’t see anyone else.
“I saw you on the street. When you didn’t go to Underground…” He ran his gaze over her, and then over their surroundings. “I thought you found someplace else to go.”
“If only,” Lori sighed. She narrowed her eyes at him. “How did you get in?”
“I found an open window.”
Lori shoved the knife into her waistband. She glared at him. “Do you not understand what it means when the words ‘never’ and ‘want to see you’ appear in the same sentence?”
His fangs flashed as he grinned at her.
Turning away from him, she moved back into the main room. This time, she chose a different table to sift through. She didn’t have time to deal with him. After all, she had work to do. Still, she felt his eyes on her as he followed.
He kneeled beside her. “What are we looking for?”
“We are not looking for anything,” she spat. Her gaze could have turned him into a glacier. “I am looking for a little book this big.” She moved her fingers three inches apart. “You,” she glared at him, “should not even be here.”
“Neither should you, if you had to pick the lock to get in.”
She edged back. He had been watching her very carefully.
His eyes scanned the table. “How will I know this book when I find it?”
Would he leave if she told him to? Probably not. She supposed it wouldn’t hurt to have another pair of eyes on the lookout. “It’ll probably be the only one with blank pages at the end,” she answered grudgingly. As he reached forward, she warned, “Don’t move anything. Put everything back exactly as it was.”
He nodded.
Moving her search to the desk, she tried to block out all thoughts of Terrence–difficult enough with him in the same room, just waiting to pester her.
“So why are you looking for this book?”
Stay calm. She peered underneath a sheaf of papers. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
“What? No stake today?”
She glanced up into eyes lit with good humor and felt her calm slip away. She scowled. “It didn’t fit under my shirt.” When he seemed inclined to continue the conversation, she told him coldly, “There’s no need to talk.”
/> “Of course there is. I want to get to know you.”
Persistent bastard.
“I think I’ve made it perfectly clear I don’t want to get to know you.” She hunched over the table, dismissing him from her thoughts. Excitement fluttered in her stomach like a thousand hummingbird wings. She lifted a shiny gold book, the kind bought two-for-one at the dollar store. “I found it.” She felt her mouth move, but she didn’t hear the words. Her hearing and other tactile sensations dropped away as a scene filled her vision.
The Spenta Michos’s deep chocolate skin formed a backdrop for a pale hand over his mouth. She blinked; the room replaced the vision. Closing her eyes, she tried to muster it again. She strained to remember every last detail, but the image had fled. She thought it had taken place in this house, at least. Whether the future or the past, she didn’t know. The past, her gut told her.
When she opened her eyes, Terrence crowded her. His mouth opened to ask a question. Before he could, Lori heard light scratching. Someone was picking the lock on the front door. She lurched forward, backing Terrence against the wall and covering his mouth with her hand. His warm breath teased her palm. Stuffing the book into her pocket, she reached around to the small of her back and gripped her dagger.
Her senses hummed, but not indicating danger.
The lock snicked.
Terrence rested a hand loosely on her hip. When she frowned at him, his eyes widened innocently.
The door swung open, shielding them from view. Light footsteps padded into the room. Lori tensed. A little closer.
Closer…
Now.
She leaped out from behind the cover of the door, simultaneously drawing her weapon.
Then she sneered as she put it away. “Heaven.”
The prep smiled sweetly. “Lori. Having fun?”
Lori felt Terrence’s solid presence as he stepped out from behind the door.
Heaven grinned wickedly. “Oh, you are having fun.”
Lori jabbed her finger at the teenager. “Don’t touch my phone again.”