A World Apart (Shades Below, #1)

by Oliva, L. J. K.

  Lena didn't respond right away. MacMillian glanced over at her. She had shifted face-forward again, her arms still crossed. A street light illuminated her stony expression. "Yes. I expect to be home."

  "All right, then."

  She didn't say anything else. He didn't try to make her. They rode in awkward silence until the dark facade of Cross Your Teas came into view.

  He pulled up to the curb, and she turned to him again. "Why do you hate him so much?"

  The genuine distress in her voice almost made him tell her. MacMillian swallowed the impulse and gripped the wheel tighter. "Ask him."

  "I might." She opened the door and climbed out to the sidewalk. "Thanks for the ride." She started to shut the door behind her.

  "Lena."

  She stopped, and bent down. "Yes?"

  Her eyes looked ultra-bright in the deepening darkness. MacMillian suddenly didn't remember what he'd been about to say. He settled for the first thing that came to mind. "Be careful."

  Her face softened with something that looked like pity. She shook her head. "Go to hell, Magnum."

  MacMillian's stomach twisted. He waited until she was safely inside her building, then drove away without a backwards glance.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  She had just finished applying a last swipe of mascara when her door buzzer sounded.

  Lena took a deep breath and put the events of the day out of her mind. There would be plenty of time tomorrow to think about the disappearances, about St. Sophia Orthodox Church, about MacMillian. Tonight was her night off. Her night to have fun.

  Lord knew she'd earned it.

  Lena tugged on her heels and shrugged into the black wool coat she saved for special occasions. She gave her hair one last check in the mirror next to her front door, then picked her way carefully down the stairs to the street entrance.

  Durbin looked up at the sound of the door. He took in her shorter-than-usual dress, her platform heels, her loosely curled hair. His jaw slackened. "Wow."

  Heat crept up her neck. "I hope this isn't too much."

  "What? No! Are you kidding?" He groaned. "And once again, my foot has managed to make its way into my mouth."

  Lena bit back a grin. "Yeah, you should get that checked. You might have a real medical problem."

  Durbin held out his arm. "Fortunately, I know a place that keeps the cure in stock."

  He ushered her to where his car sat parked against the curb. She settled in and waited until he slid into the driver's seat. "And where is this pharmaceutical wonderland?"

  He winked at her and started the engine. "You'll see."

  He wove up the narrow one-way street bordering the park, powered through a left turn before finally looking at her again. "So, what happened after you left the station?"

  A too-vivid image of the Tenderloin flashed to mind. Lena twisted her hands in her lap. "Oh, you know. Nothing really. Just chased down a few dead ends." She forced a laugh. "We're not going to spend all evening discussing work, are we?"

  Durbin's lips curved. "Point taken."

  They passed the Giants' stadium, drove over the little jump of water beyond it. Lena squinted at the converted warehouses lining the street in front of them. "We're going to Potrero Hill?"

  "Dogpatch." Durbin kept his eyes on the road. "Home of the last best dive bar this side of Market."

  He drove a short ways further before turning down a dark little side street. They were soon hiking back up it on foot, Durbin's car safely stashed in what looked like a locals-only parking lot.

  Lena tugged her coat tighter around her. Durbin noticed. "Cold?"

  "A little. How far away is this place?"

  He nodded at an unassuming brick building on the corner. "Just up ahead."

  Like the other buildings on the street, it appeared to have started life as a warehouse. Lena peered up at the badly-lit sign. "The Gin Mill. Cute."

  "You have no idea."

  Lena snorted. They drew closer. Slow, throbbing music saturated the air around the door. The bass notes reached deep and shook something loose in her belly. A delicious quiver rolled through her.

  She looked up to find Durbin already watching her, his eyes darker than usual. He didn't say anything, merely opened the door. A blast wave of sound and heat surged out. Lena paused while her senses adjusted to the assault. Durbin's hand dusted the small of her back, and she allowed him to guide her forward.

  Her senses started tingling the instant they were inside. The atmosphere felt charged, everyone carried along on a riptide of energy. She glanced around at the other patrons. The prevailing style seemed to be hipster with a side of grunge.

  She glared up at Durbin. "I thought you told me to wear a dress."

  A small smile touched the corners of his mouth. He leaned down and spoke into her ear. "I believe I promised you a drink."

  Before long, they each had a beer in hand. Durbin led the way to a deserted nook in the far corner of the room. Lena sat. He sat beside her. Heat pulsed from his body on a frequency that made her skin crackle.

  He leaned in and clinked his glass against hers. "Cheers. This place might not win any mixology awards, but you can't beat the microbrews."

  Lena sipped her beer. Her eyebrows went up. "It's good."

  "You sound surprised." Durbin flashed a lopsided grin before taking a pull from his own glass. "I never joke about my microbrews."

  Lena took another sip and rested her glass on the small table in front of them. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't seem like the type to be into artisanal beer."

  "Meaning I don't wear thick-rimmed glasses, flannel, and skinny jeans?" Durbin shuddered dramatically. "I'll take that as a compliment."

  Lena snickered. "When you put it that way, I guess it is."

  Durbin took another sip, then leaned back. "Okay. Do we know each other well enough now that I can ask?"

  "Ask what?"

  "How you got into ghost-busting?"

  Lena studied him. His expression was teasing, but there was a noticeable shadow behind his eyes. She picked up her glass again. "I thought we weren't going to talk about work."

  "Come on. Humor the guy who just found out the monsters in his closet are real." His gaze intensified. "I'm curious. Can you blame me for that?"

  Lena sighed. "No. I suppose not." She took another drink.

  Durbin followed suit. "So, what happened? How did you first find out about...you know...?"

  Lena peered into his face. "About ghosts?"

  Durbin glanced around, then met her eyes again. "Yeah. About ghosts."

  "I was raised knowing about the spirit world. My parents, well, they're kind of a big deal in our circles."

  "Oh, are they?" Durbin's smile turned teasing. "What does that mean? Are you like royalty, or something? Should I learn to curtsey?"

  Lena rolled her eyes. "Please. My parents founded the first school on psychic and subversive research in the Bay Area. So really, I'm more like a pedigreed nerd." She paused. "Though if you're looking for an excuse to curtsey..."

  He arched an eyebrow. "Who said I need an excuse?"

  Lena laughed.

  Durbin started to speak, but before he could get a word out, his phone rang. It took Lena a second to recognize the ring tone. "Is that the Flying Monkeys song from The Wizard of Oz?"

  Durbin grimaced. "I'm sorry. I have to..."

  She nodded. "It's fine. Go ahead."

  He gave her a grateful, apologetic look and answered just as the song reset. "This isn't a good time."

  Lena sipped her beer and studied the room. Most of the seating was located either around the dark wood bar or on banquettes lining the walls. The vast majority of the other patrons milled around the open center of the floor, drinks in hand, laughing and chatting and flirting.

  "No, I know we both agreed on cello lessons."

  Lena looked back at Durbin. His forehead was creased, his lips turned down. He sighed. "Of course I still want her to go. I just-" He stopped, l
istened. Then he sighed again. "Look, put her on and I'll talk to her."

  He glanced up and caught Lena's eye. I'm sorry, he mouthed. His attention abruptly shifted back to his call.

  "Petra? Honey, what's this about you skipping your cello practice?" He paused, listened. "I know Brittany's sleepover is tonight, but that's no excuse. You need to listen to your mother. Besides, I want to hear what you've learned when I see you this weekend."

  Lena looked away. Durbin paused again. His voice softened. "I love you too, sweetheart. Have fun. I'll see you soon."

  He hung up. Lena returned her gaze from a dimly lit wall sconce back to his face. He blew out a breath. "Sorry about that."

  She shrugged. "You don't have anything to apologize for."

  "Thank you." He fell silent.

  Lena cleared her throat. "So when did you get married?"

  "A year before I graduated the academy. She was just finishing up college." Durbin tapped a finger against the side of his glass. "We lasted five years."

  "I'm sorry." She tried to sound like she meant it. "What happened?"

  He took a sip of his beer. "The usual, I suppose. Lack of communication. Nothing in common anymore." He looked down into his glass. "We were too young to be married. We both knew it. But we were in love." His lips twisted. "Love conquers all, right?"

  His voice sounded raw. A knot formed in her chest. Lena spoke carefully. "It doesn't always work that way."

  Durbin barked out a laugh. "No. No, it doesn't."

  She didn't know what to say to that. She drained the last of her beer at the same time he did. He stood, relief stark on his face. "I'll get us another."

  Lena nodded. "Sounds great."

  By the time he returned with their refills, his good humor was firmly back in place. He set her beer down in front of her and sat. "Now as I recall, we were talking about your family. Besides your folks, is it just you and your brother?"

  "No." Lena hesitated, then picked up her glass. "No, I have a sister, too. Gracie's the baby. She's a student at the Academy of Art University."

  Durbin took a drink. "Nice. She wasn't interested in the family business?"

  Lena snorted. "I don't know what she's interested in, to be honest. We've never really understood each other."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Yeah. Me too." Lena raised her glass to her lips and took a heavy swallow. She set it back down. "Okay, my turn to grill you."

  Durbin set his glass down too, and winced. "Damn, was I that obvious?"

  "Please." Lena rolled her eyes. "You are such a cop."

  "You're the one who agreed to go out with me, sweetheart." He grinned. "Fine. Fair's fair. Shoot."

  Lena settled back against the wall. "Why does MacMillian hate you so much?"

  The levity faded from his face. A slightly haunted expression replaced it. "Does it matter?"

  "It does to me."

  Durbin retrieved his glass and drank. When he set it down again, it was halfway empty. "Did you ask him?"

  "Yes."

  "And what did he say?"

  Lena kept her eyes on his face. "He said I should ask you."

  Durbin blew out a laugh. "Of course he did." He took another drink. "Ask me something else."

  Lena tapped the side of her glass and pursed her lips. Durbin waited. Finally, she leaned forward. "All right, here's one. Why did you keep us from going back to the extraction site?"

  Durbin groaned. "Jesus, you and MacMillian. A couple of dogs with a bone, I swear." He fell silent, held her gaze for a moment without speaking. Then abruptly, he stood. "Come with me."

  Lena blinked, grabbed her purse and slid out from behind the table. Durbin waited until she was steady on her feet, then caught her hand. He headed towards the back of the room, into a narrow hallway she hadn't noticed before.

  He towed her past the bathrooms, past what must have been a storeroom, finally through a heavy door and into a dark alley. Lena caught her breath at the sudden gust of cold air. She pulled her hand out of Durbin's and cupped it around the other in front of her mouth.

  Durbin was suddenly in front of her. The heat from his body chased the chill away. Lena shivered anyway. He reached out and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. His thumb notched under her chin, and he tilted her face up. A delicious thrill shot through her. "What...?"

  "Enough questions." The words vibrated against her lips.

  Then he was kissing her.

  Lena caught her breath on a moan and clasped the back of his head with both hands. Durbin's breath hitched. He shifted closer, walked her backwards until she was pinned against the freezing side of the building.

  Strangely enough, it didn't feel freezing. Or maybe she was just overheating. That had to have been it. Her skin felt like she was on the verge of combustion, like if she wasn't careful, she'd burn right through the wall.

  Durbin's hand left her jaw, skated down her throat like a streak of fire. He ended the kiss abruptly and followed the path he'd marked with his lips. Lena gasped, and the reverberations of his answering chuckle hummed deep inside her. Stubble scratched her skin as he nipped the side of her neck.

  Lena jumped. Heat gathered deep inside her. The next thing she knew, he had her wrists pinned above her head. She hissed out a breath. "You planned that."

  A quick grin flashed over his face. He shifted focus to her ear and caught the delicate lobe between his teeth. Lena groaned. A needy shudder rolled through her. "Mark..."

  It was like he'd been waiting for her to say his name. He returned to drink it off her lips, then sank deeper still. Lena started to bring her hands to his face, only to realize he still had them pinned. She strained against the restraint, finally gave up and parted her lips.

  The second his tongue touched hers, she buckled. His thigh was already firmly between her legs. She landed on it hard, and sensation rocketed through her. Already long past conscious thought, she ground against him.

  He let out a strangled groan, released her hands and grabbed her hips. "Wait." His voice was harsh and need-strained. "Not here."

  Lena nodded blindly, even as her lips sought his again. "Of course not."

  "I have a confession." Durbin grazed her lower lip with his. "This place. Coming here. I had ulterior motives."

  He sank into her mouth again. By the time he gave quarter, Lena was breathless. "You don't say."

  "Smartass." He growled the word against her lips.

  Lena pulled back a fraction. "So, what about this confession?"

  "My apartment. That is..." He groaned as she grazed his jaw with her teeth. "I live upstairs."

  Lena hesitated. "This is..."

  This is going too fast. She stopped. The more she thought about it, the less convincing that statement sounded. They were both adults. Responsible adults, even. How long since she'd made a real, flesh-to-flesh connection with someone? Didn't she deserve that?

  Lena wove her fingers through his hair and guided his lips back to hers. It was less heat and need this time, more a wordless agreement. Durbin seemed to know exactly what it meant. He broke away first, silently twined her fingers with his and led her out of the alley.

  She barely noticed when he unlocked the nondescript door around the corner, barely remembered the walk up the stairs, him unlocking his apartment or turning on the light. She hovered in his front entryway, dimly aware of his actions. He moved like everything he did was already an afterthought. Finally, he turned back to her.

  The naked desire on his face made her chest quake. She took a deep breath and shrugged her coat off her shoulders. It pooled on the ground around her feet, instantly forgotten. Durbin's eyes heated. She stepped into his arms without a word. Her face was already tilted upward when he lowered his lips to hers.

  She didn't realize she'd been tense until his unexpectedly soft touch bypassed her defenses. He kept the kiss light, teasing. Soon, she was gasping into him. He backed her up against the wall next to the door. The heat inside her gathered, focused between her legs.<
br />
  She felt his lips curve a split second before he pulled back. She tried to follow, but his body held her trapped. His fingertips skimmed her thigh, just below the hem of her dress. "You asked why I wanted you to wear this?"

  His touch was maddeningly gentle. She closed her eyes.

  He didn't speak, merely slipped his fingers beneath the fabric and traced them up her leg. Her flesh jumped under his attention. His progress was slow, a deliberate assault on her senses. He skimmed the line of her panties, paused.

  Lena had to swallow before she could speak. Even then, she could only manage a whisper. "What are you waiting for?"

  His lips closed over hers the same instant his hand slid inside the scrap of fabric. Lena arched into him. Her gasp disappeared into his mouth. He explored with one long, strong finger. One heady pass took him over her clit.

  She barely recognized the sound she made. He returned for another pass, lingered and toyed without mercy. Lena wrapped her arms around his neck, more for support than anything else. She was burning, all of her was burning. The only solution was for him to touch her. Everywhere, and all at once.

  She rubbed against his chest, desperate for contact. Durbin took the hint, and his free hand snaked up between them. He palmed one breast, hooked a finger over the dress's low neckline and bared her to him.

  His eyes darkened, and he dipped his head.

  Lena cried out as he rasped her oversensitized flesh. His tongue was like a brand. It took up the same rhythm as his fingers between her legs, laving her nipple again and again.

  She broke against him with a strangled shriek, but instead of release, it was like everything tightened inside her. His hands disappeared. She almost protested until she saw what he was doing. His wallet was out, and he was fishing a foil packet from the billfold. His face was flushed, hard with concentration.

  She started on his fly without a word, her movements neither subtle nor gentle. He grunted as she jerked open his belt buckle, again when she reached inside his pants and closed her fist around him. His cock, already hard, hardened still further in her hand. She brushed her thumb over the tip.

  His groan was downright feral. He surged forward and recaptured her lips, nipped and suckled until her knees shook. She kept her hold on him by sheer force of will. He flexed his hips and slid deeper. She tightened her grip when he slid out again.