“Olivia Michaels,” said a velvet baritone voice. For a few seconds I considered pretending I hadn’t heard him, but the deep, commanding voice was hard to ignore and I’m sure he was aware of that. When he turned around so was his appearance. Dark hair, rugged good looks, and razor-sharp features were far more impressive than his build. Full supple lips wouldn’t commit to the smile he attempted. His eyes were haunting yet alluring with a blue so light that it looked like the sky after a storm had cleared. Eyes you could get lost in, but knew could turn on you in a moment. He held my gaze for longer than I wished or expected. I couldn’t decide which left me more intrigued: him, the deep indigo shifter ring around the pupils of his eyes that held the sly look of the predator that lurked behind them, or his intensity. Everything about him was a reminder why I needed to steer clear of shifters.
“Do you mind telling me what happened earlier?”
Yep, I do mind since I just told someone from your office the same story you want me to tell you. Instead I said, “I think I told everything there is to tell to the SG officer.”
The lips beveled into a frown. “I am aware of that, but I would like to hear the story from you. Based on what was told by the officer and the witnesses, you possess skills that you shouldn’t, especially being a …” He stopped, slowly assessing me. “Witch?” he offered.
“No, I’m not a witch. Just your run-of-the mill human.” I gave him a coy smile. I hoped it was coy—I didn’t do coy and rarely pulled it off. Based on the look he gave me, I hadn’t succeeded then, either.
“Of course, that is what I suspected, which makes this even odder. How did a human woman—one probably not old enough to legally drink—subdue two vampires?”
I forgot. Most shifters have a tendency to be of the “smug asshole” variety. It didn’t take long after being around them to be reminded of it.
“Well, Gareth.” I kept the smile, but said his name through clenched teeth. “I am old enough, and after this meeting I’m pretty sure I am going to have couple of shots.”
“Tell me, how did you subdue two vampires—”
“I didn’t do it alone, Kalen helped.” His gaze briefly moved to Kalen before turning to me with the same whetted curiosity that seemed to be increasing with each second. I could see Kalen’s wide-eyed look at my creative retelling of the incident. I didn’t like lying and wasn’t particularly happy about not taking full credit for taking the vampires down, but Gareth made me nervous. I didn’t want to add fuel to the flames of his curiosity. “Did your officers tell you that they might have been controlled by someone else? Their eyes were a little odd. The lights were on, but definitely no one was home.” I redirected his attention to a topic other than me.
He nodded once. “Yes, that has been confirmed, both of them are no longer available for questioning,” he said.
“Dead?”
He nodded. “Killed themselves before they could be questioned. They were definitely being controlled by someone else, because vampires consider their existence too precious to take their own lives.” He studied me in silence, stepping closer. His nose flared as he breathed in my scent.
I took a step back, increasing the distance between us, which he quickly narrowed as he took a step forward.
Gripping the bag of clothes I had on earlier tighter, I looked over at Kalen, who seemed to be treating our back and forth like a game of tennis. I shot him a look: Get rid of him. But he didn’t seem to get the hint and instead looked expectantly for me to return the ball to Gareth’s side of the court.
“Do you think it too far out of the realm of possibilities to believe it was a necromancer?” I asked, hoping to give him something else to focus on other than me, which was getting a great deal of his attention.
“Why do you ask that?”
“Most people believe they are extinct.”
His smiled. “I don’t usually believe in rumors of extinction, and I’m pretty sure you’re not one to do it, either.” His eyes narrowed as he continued to assess me with a melding of curiosity and intense interest. “Am I correct?”
“I tend to think things are extinct, but if you find a dinosaur be sure to let me know.” I tried to use that as my exit, but he stepped to the side, his tall, broad body blocking me. Cool pale eyes stayed rooted on me.
He chuckled. “I met a nymph last year. Two years ago a pixie decided to take up residence in a friend’s home. A month ago we were called out because two trolls were having a disagreement. A couple nights ago, I encountered a succubus. All of them have been said to be extinct or just folklore. Nothing is out of the realm of possibility to me.”
That made things even worse. I was supposed to be extinct. His brow rose as I inhaled a ragged breath.
I simply nodded. It was time for me to leave. I slowly started to back off, preparing to walk away. “I wish I had more to offer you. They were going after the Necro-spear, I stopped them—that’s all I have. I think you should look for whoever else wanted it. I’m pretty sure that list is quite long, but Kalen can tell you who tried to outbid him.”
The moment he broke contact with me to look in Kalen’s direction, I trotted out the door before he could ask another question. This time when he called my name I ignored it.
CHAPTER 3
Of course when I walked through the door I was met with a view of my roommate’s butt hiked in the air as she assumed the downward dog position. If she could she would spend the day doing yoga and nights in Pilates classes. But as far as roommates go, I’d lucked out with her. Except for an occasional flash of her ass during a yoga position and her awful persistence that a superfood accompany each of our meals, she was as good as they come.
“Levy, you’re all clean,” she said, coming to stand and grabbing a towel off of the arm of the sofa.
“I told you I had an auction to go to.”
“With you, I never know. A simple pickup at an elderly lady’s home might end up with you in a fistfight with a drunk fae.”
I grabbed my bag of clothes and tossed it at her. She looked in it and shook her head.
“I took a shower at the office,” I said as I made my way to the kitchen. My stomach had been rumbling since I got on the bus.
“I made dinner.” She wiped the sweat from her face as she followed me to the kitchen. Oh great, now she’ll see me throw out her low calorie-high energy cow-grazing food. I’m a meat and potatoes type of woman, and when I’m eating a salad I spend most of my time fishing for the bacon or chicken in it. Occasionally a tomato or cucumber would get in the way and I’d eat it. I pulled out leftovers from yesterday: chicken and rice. When she scowled, I went ahead and took out the salad she’d made as well.
“I need to eat, not graze. I had to fight off two vampires today.”
“Really? What happened?”
I went over the details, and gave her the edited version. I didn’t tell her about them possibly being piloted by someone else. Since supernaturals came out of the closet, humans have always been apprehensive, and who could blame them? Magic in any form could be dangerous, and it wasn’t rooted in anything concrete. Why do shapeshifters change? Don’t know, they just do. Why can faes compel you to truth and mages can’t, it’s all magic, right? Wish I had an answer. Why do supernaturals die when their magic is taken from them? Good question, that’s a question that most supernaturals want an answer for, too. It was one of the downsides of being a supernatural being. Magic was as essential to their existence as their heart and oxygen. It was entwined in their essence, and their life ended the moment it was taken. Which was another thing that set Legacy apart from other supernaturals. Our magic couldn’t be stolen. Many had tried and were unsuccessful. Most supernaturals’ lives were rooted in magic; we were something more complex—or maybe simple, but magic existed because of us.
Savannah always had a look that was a combination of intrigue and disgust when I discussed my job. Most of the time she was intrigued. I wished my days just consisted of sorting through boxes of jun
k to find antiques to sell. But it was never that easy, and my conversation with Gareth cemented that. Antiquing was how it started, until one odd find led to a bigger payoff than anything we’d ever made. People could still come in the shop and find an antique watch, an iron skillet, a canteen from the early 1900s, or a coffee press, just for the sake of having it. But if any of them were lost objects that could be used for a spell, were enchanted, or long-lost charmed objects revered by one of the supernatural sects, it was a very nice payday.
“I guess you aren’t going to Crimson with me tonight?” A dour look colored her words as she resisted the frown that was threating to form.
“Of course I am.” I wasn’t letting her near that vamp club by herself. Of all the people I’ve known in the past she was the most rational, and yet when it came to vampires all that went out the door. Their appeal vanquished any of her cogent thoughts, and she was reduced to a wide-eyed vamp fangirl.
The smile she brandished stayed there even as she chomped down on her banana. She didn’t have many weekends off, and when she did, hanging out at the newest vampire spot seemed to be at the top of her list.
We arrived early enough that we didn’t have to wait long before getting into the club. Mesmeric music met us, and Savannah couldn’t wait to start moving to the beat before we’d even gotten inside. Against my strong objection, she wore a white V-neck tank top embellished in bright silver that drew attention to the neck that was on display. Her pants clung to her body and showed off the hours of work she put into exercise and dance each week. A wealth of honey blond hair cascaded over her shoulder in loose waves, and her light gray eyes glinted when the light hit just right. I stayed close as we entered the club, hoping she didn’t stumble in the ridiculously high heels that she wore to camouflage her 5 foot 3 height. If it were possible she would wear heels like that every day. Her height seemed to be a source of insecurity. I didn’t like the feeling of walking on stilts and settled on a pair of heels just a little over an inch.
Once we were in the middle of the club Savannah’s attention flew to the corner where a cadre of vampires were seated. The club didn’t have a VIP section, but if it were to, that would have been it. A similar circle of leather seats in the back of the club gave a panoramic view of the room. The music was loud—I could feel it vibrating against my feet. A sultry, alluring beat filled the club, and Savannah continued to move with it. Although her day job as a personal assistant paid the bills, she was a classically trained dancer. Dancing was what she loved. Sinuous sways of her hips drew the attention of several vampires in the self-titled VIP section. Their stares bounced between the two of us. We were diametrically different. My chestnut hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and the only makeup I wore was mascara. A thick coat of it veiled my hazel eyes. I wasn’t too keen on exposing my neck in a room full of inebriated vampires, but showing up in a turtleneck was out of the question in the middle of July in Chicago. The Midwest wasn’t afflicted by the same warm weather as the west and the south, but in July I couldn’t tell the difference between their weather and ours. Instead I settled on a pair of dark jeans and pink mock turtleneck tank top.
I had taken on the role of Savannah’s guardian so it was hard to enjoy myself even as she led me onto the dance floor with her. I danced fully aware of the dark eyes of the seemingly mystified ginger-headed vampire who couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was equally intrigued. Her body bumped against others as she swayed to the beat, unaware of the crowd that had overtaken the room because her focus was fixed on the ginger vampire sitting in the corner. The unique and tantalizing looks of vampires for most still overshadowed and distracted from the fact they were soulless creatures of the damned who required blood to survive. I was very aware of it at every given moment.
“Stop staring at them. I told you what happens when you stare,” I whispered in her ear.
“No, why don’t you tell me for the hundredth time,” she said with a stilted grin.
“Fine, be vamp kibble. I’m sure you’ll manage between working out a million hours a week and your full-time job,” I teased.
We had to find a median. I was overly cautious when it came to vampires and she was too passive. The very reasons I was disturbed by them were the very ones that intrigued her. They were beautiful monsters.
Savannah was fixated on the group across the room, eyes planted on them, desire an unfettered ball that she didn’t have control of. I pinched her. She whipped around and glared at me. “What’s wrong with you!”
“Stop staring.”
I knew I was being overprotective and was aware that vampires weren’t allowed to compel anymore because it was against the law, but I still believed that there was a little bit of suggestive messaging in their looks. Yet most of them behaved quite well since now their maker was also held responsible for them—unlike the past when a vampire could create as many progeny as they wanted and let them run rogue, becoming society’s problem. Now they needed to be with their maker for at least a year, trained, and supervised during their transition. It kept down the number created because no one wanted to be the held responsible for their misbehaving offspring.
“Will you stop it?” I barked in her ear, but she was too far gone, entranced by what had now replaced their gift to compel—their looks. People were drawn to them, ready to offer themselves willingly. The fact that some were taken over by bloodlust and killed, which I had told Savannah numerous times, wasn’t enough to break the spell that the vampires had over her.
She was enthralled in a manner that reason couldn’t stop, and before I could say anything she was navigating through the crowded club the moment Mr. Ginger waved her over. I was just inches behind her as she made her way across the room. I stood at the end of the table; she squeezed in next to him. When he shifted over to make room for the both us, I reluctantly took a seat on the other side of him.
“Have a seat, love.”
My eyes flew in Savannah’s direction. The accent, a deep Australian brogue. She wasn’t swooning anymore—she was in full-on fangirl mode. I couldn’t believe this was the same woman who tried to feed me an egg-white sandwich with gluten-free bread this morning. The day before she was in my room, label maker in hand, shoving my shoes in boxes and slapping a picture and label on them, because apparently I just wasn’t organized enough. I wouldn’t have an excuse for rushing out in the morning because I was late. “Everything has a place” was her mantra. And she’d organized my sparse clothing accordingly. In my closet there was a section she labeled “someone’s getting their ass kicked,” clothes that were too soiled to wear out in public and had been stitched up so many times they were barely presentable. I usually wore them on our sketchy jobs where someone was probably going to get their ass kicked and I had to make sure it wasn’t us.
“What are you drinking tonight?” he asked, looking at our empty hands.
“Nothing, I’m the DD,” I said.
“Oh nonsense, that’s what Uber and cabs are for. Have a drink with us.”
Ginger was such an alluring presence I had ignored the other vamps sitting with him. Not much older than us, maybe mid- to late twenties. A carefully orchestrated group—a PR machine’s boy band lineup, designed to appeal to whatever your preference might be. Ginger with his wide, supple lips and dimples that peeked out when he exposed fangs. Gentle light brown eyes with that tell-tale silver vampire ring and a lithe build cemented his role as the charmer of the group. Dark and Broody was just that—silent as he sat at the table with his lips in a resting line. Disheveled cocoa-colored hair matched his eyes, which held just a slight tinge of disinterest. The kind that made a less cynical person work a little harder for his attention. He was broader than Ginger, but not by much, t-shirt draped casually over the cords of defined muscles over his chest and abs. It seemed he had time to do a couple of crunches between his stints of brooding. All-American had taken on his role quite well, to the point he could have invented it. The wayward smile that managed to be
welcoming and mischievous. The ash-blond hair, winged cheeks, and eyes a mass of green. I was sure he didn’t have to do much to convince someone they needed to be his meal.
“I’ll have just a Diet Coke,” Savannah said. She was just as mesmerized and bewitched as a teenager at one of the boy band’s concerts.
Ginger grinned. “You have to give me more than that,” he teased.
“Cranberry and vodka,” she said.
He looked in my direction and waited for my answer. “I’ll take her Coke, but make sure mine isn’t diet. Can’t stand the stuff.”
Mr. All-American chuckled as he leaned into the table. “A woman after my own heart. If you’re going to do it, then do it. Right?”
Oh no you don’t, Mr. All-American. You just point that smile somewhere else.
Two drinks later the boy band was taking turns dancing with Savannah and me. I still hadn’t let my guard down. The Coke had me on a caffeine high, but my inhibitions were firmly intact and so was my cynicism—where they needed to be. Making sure I was on high alert. Which was why I couldn’t take my eyes off the three shifters and mage who had just walked in; an odd pairing. Mages weren’t as discerning and often frequented the typical vampire spots, but shifters were a different story. They preferred to stay on their side of town and frequent their clubs, which were slowly becoming overrun by college kids who were drawn to them because their drinks were stronger. With shifters’ metabolisms, it took a lot more to get them drunk, and after a drink and a half in one of their spots you were hammered.
The female shifter had to be cat, her movements graceful and lithe as she took up a position at the bar, surveying the area, nursing her drink. In all blue—tank, jeans, and heels that made her tower over the men next to her—she was dressed like she was ready for a night out, but the stern look on her face was all business. The man next to her was a shifter, too, but a different magic came off the other man. He wasn’t a shifter, but might be half, or maybe even a quarter because he wasn’t registering on my shifter-dar.
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