The Monster Ball: A Paranormal Romance Anthology

by Heather Hildenbrand

  I invited it out to play, allowing it to spill down my nerve endings and take over whatever space in my mind it wanted. It started in my head and then it spread further, flooding my body with bright, intense energy. I kept my hand outstretched, facing the wall, but nothing exploded from my reach. I only did that as a precaution, because testing out a new power could sometimes end up being a little too much like playing with a loaded gun.

  A noise sounded behind me and I whipped myself around as my space was invaded, a couple tumbling in without even sparing me a glance. They were tangled together, their mouths fused, the woman’s hands frantically trying to push the jacket from the man’s shoulders.

  “Whoa,” the guy muttered, suddenly pulling away, his eyes as wide as saucers, his hands on the shoulders of the woman, spinning her around.

  Her mouth dropped open and her eyes ran from my head to my toes. I glanced at myself, and then snorted. I was glowing, my skin lit with a sparkling illumination that would have been impossible to hide even beneath a blanket.

  “Great!” I threw my hands up. “Just what I needed. I’m sure I won’t have any trouble blending in now. Do you two need some romantic candlelight for your lovemaking session? I can stand upright in the corner. Promise I won’t look … and when I do look, I promise I won’t laugh … and when I laugh, I’ll promise it isn’t about you.”

  “Uh ...” the woman floundered, glancing at her partner. His eyes were still wide. “No ... thanks?” she finished.

  “Manners.” I began to move past her, patting her shoulder. “Good girl. As you were.”

  I slipped out of the alcove and tried to inconspicuously pass along the edges of the room. I attempted to turn off the power, but it kept switching back on whenever I turned my attention away from it, like a faulty light bulb. It was no longer a gentle force—it was downright annoying and malicious. Every time I reached for a fancy crystal champagne flute to steal, my skin glowed bright again. When I eventually retired from trying to swipe things that I didn’t even need, I resigned myself to slinking back to the bar to do another search for Torstein.

  I was back to normal by the time I sat down and ordered another drink, and for some reason, I didn’t glow when I reached for the glass, but as I brewed over all the ways that I would incapacitate and drag my big, blond Motherlode out of the castle, the little glowing sparkles started to spread over my skin again.

  “And I thought I was having a weird night,” a deep, husky voice drawled out to my left, slightly accented.

  The voice was slightly accented because my big blond Motherlode had grown up in Northern Europe.

  Play it cool, Isa. A regular reminder for my hot-headed self, though my efforts generally proved futile.

  “How long have you been there?” I asked, sneaking a look at him.

  He was on the stool beside mine, facing out across the dancefloor, both elbows raised to rest against the back of the bar, a short glass of some kind of blue liquid held loosely in his fingers.

  “Since before you arrived, mumbling about short-circuiting and blond motherlodes,” he replied easily. “You seem like a little too much work for my usual tastes, but I’ll admit, you have me intrigued.”

  “Intrigued enough to leave with me right now?” I asked, turning to face him fully, my eyebrows raised.

  He snorted, his own brows arching in response. He dipped forward, one of his large arms dropping from the bar. He leaned in as his eyes slowly categorised my features, his glass tipping to his lips. He set it back onto the bar, his teeth flashing in that sharp smile again.

  “I can’t tell if you’re challenging me or inviting me.”

  Shit. I should have simpered first. It was definitely too late now.

  “It was a challenge?” My reply came out as a question, and he laughed again.

  “Too easy, Sparky. We both know you’re not that easy.”

  He slid off his stool, suddenly stepping into my personal space. His hands were at my knees without warning, brushing my chain-link covering inward. It pooled between my thighs, revealing the full length of my legs. I swallowed, gripping onto my stupid, faulty light bulb power. I held onto it like a lifeline, refusing to let even an inch of it slip away. The Chameleon inside me was trying to suck Torstein’s dark power in, reaching for it like a starving person in the desert. His influence was slipping over me, his power working its own effect over my body even as I tried to stop from absorbing it.

  I could feel the roughness of his palms against the insides of my knees, but I was no longer looking at his hands or my legs. The velvety blue of his eyes had called to me, drawing my focus up and then pulling me forward. His hands applied pressure, my legs parted, and he stepped between them.

  “You want me to leave here with you?” he asked, his tone low, his words a rough scrape against my skin.

  Holy shit he was powerful.

  “No,” I quickly forced out. My skin glowed. “I mean yes.” It glowed brighter. My control was slipping. If he didn’t get the fuck off me, I was going to switch abilities. There was no way I could hold it off any longer.

  “There you go again.” His energy wrapped around me, burning a path through my body and pooling heat into my bloodstream. “Piquing my interest.”

  He backed off me suddenly, and I quickly pulled my legs together—but not quickly enough to evade the dip of his eyes and the flash of his smile.

  “Pity I’m a demon,” he said, turning and making his way through the dancing bodies.

  His energy went with him, and I watched as women gravitated toward him, draping themselves all over him and trailing after him. I wanted to be disgusted, or horrified, or anything other than ... whatever I was feeling. He was a form of demon, an evil sadist who made women disappear. It was his power that was affecting me, not his muscles and his eyes and that growly timbre to his voice. None of those things worked on me. I was more mature and professional than that.

  “I found the blond giant,” the bartender spoke up from behind me. “He was just talking to you. And then he left.”

  I swivelled on my stool to glare at him. “Thanks,” I drawled. “Real helpful.”

  He shrugged. “You were a little busy being seduced. I thought I’d wait until after to tell you.”

  “I wasn’t being seduced,” I growled. “I was having a private battle with my self-control.”

  “That’s ... what I meant.” He walked away, laughing.

  I scowled, turning to face the dancers again. I needed a new plan. Torstein had evaded capture for too long, which meant that he had a brain inside that tattooed head of his. The fact that he had shown himself in such a setting with so many important-looking magical people was enough to hint that he believed himself to be safe. That might have been because of our mysterious host, or it might have been because of measures that he had taken himself. I needed to be careful about how I proceeded. I had several options for getting him into a position where he was vulnerable enough for me to incapacitate him and store him somewhere safe. Most of those options seemed to revolve around me seducing him in some way, and that was entirely coincidental and had nothing to do with his paralysing hotness.

  I could lure him away to a private room somewhere, but I would need to find a weapon first, otherwise there wasn’t much point, because there was no way that I would be able to naturally over-power him. It was time to go ability-shopping. I grinned in preparation, and the glow from my arms distracted me. I frowned, glancing down, a thought occurring to me. The light bulb power had felt so good, so wholesome ...

  I’m going to do something bad, I thought.

  The glow flared to life.

  I’m going to return this woman’s chain-link dress later, I thought.

  The glow subsided.

  I started laughing uncontrollably, drawing more than a few concerned glances. I waved them off, picking up Torstein’s discarded blue drink and tipping it to my lips as I scanned the people in the room, searching for someone dangerous-looking. It was time to s
hed my walking deviance-detector and slip into something a little more … natural.

  I was glowing again by the time I spotted my target and stepped away from the bar, a smile curving my lips.

  Chapter Three

  My next target was hardly a blond giant, with his small, weaselly stature and narrowed dark eyes. His hair was a single, unblemished pool of slicked-back darkness. I felt the absurd urge to toss a pebble onto his head just to see the ripples. He was a warlock, easily distinguishable by the flick of his fingers, magically drawing his glass into his waiting hand as his eyes glowed. It was effortless for him. His magic was so powerful that it was actually easier for him to use than his own physical body. That was the kind of magic I needed for this mission.

  He was standing by the stage, unbothered by the pounding of music that vibrated from the band right behind him. He wasn’t really dancing, instead standing there with his drink, swaying lightly on the spot. There was a guy shouting conversation at him, dancing in a circle around him, uncaring that the warlock wasn’t participating other than to occasionally nod or give a half smile. I pushed through the people, exhaustion already filling me from my earlier efforts to keep my Chameleon in check. There was no way I was going to be able to shield myself from the other dancers, but I didn’t check in with the light bulb power as I approached the warlock to see if it had been replaced or not.

  I reached out to touch him, but the guy dancing around him bumped into my arm, pushing me to the side. The warlock met my eyes, then switched his attention away awkwardly before glancing back to me again. When he saw that I was still looking at him, confusion settled into his face.

  “Oh my god!” I squealed, reaching both of my hands out this time. “Uncle Dicky, is that you?”

  He recoiled a little from my overt enthusiasm, shaking his head quickly. I surged forward, gripping his biceps, shaking him a little.

  “Uncle Dicky, you don’t remember me? It’s Sally-belly, your favourite niece!”

  He opened his mouth, saying something to me in Japanese. The man dancing around him completed another circle and then stopped because I was in his path. They both started questioning me in Japanese, the warlock trying to dislodge himself from my grip. I quickly gripped his hands, because I needed skin-on-skin for this to work.

  “It’s me!” I exclaimed. “Kon ... nichiwa?” My Japanese was worse than elementary.

  “Hai, kon’nichiwa?” he replied, trying to dislodge himself again.

  “Kon’nichiwa,” I repeated with a nod. “Watashi … nona … maeha … Uncle Dicky!”

  “You just told him that your name is Uncle Dicky,” a voice whispered behind me.

  I spun around, releasing the warlock. The new power filled me, heady and dark, attempting to burst out of the too-small receptacle my body provided. My vision blurred over for a moment, and I swayed on my feet, the vision of my Motherlode standing smugly before me hazing over. A strong hand reached out, slipping around my waist, steadying me. I fell against a hard body, my eyes flicking up to the man who had spoken to me.

  “Did you change your mind?” I asked Torstein, my focus narrowing.

  Our skin wasn’t making contact, but I wasn’t sure how long that would last. For the moment, I was going to allow him to hold me against his body, his eyes searching mine.

  “Maybe,” he answered, and there was a glint in his eye that hadn’t been there before. “If you can prove that you really want it.”

  I pulled my head back a little, surprised at the comment. For the first time that night, his expression was serious.

  “You’re just pretty enough to make the perfect kind of bait, don’t you think?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I returned, my tone dry. “I think I’m all kinds of pretty.”

  He smirked, his other hand slipping around my waist, the chain-link covering digging into my bodysuit as his grip grew tight.

  “You called me a demon, Sparky. Now how would you know that?”

  “Because I know you, Torstein.”

  He didn’t look surprised at my use of his name. He had probably made me within moments of my first seeing him. Playing dumb wasn’t going to do me any favours.

  “I knew Sarah,” I added, when it seemed as though he was waiting for me to continue.

  He pulled me to the side, further away from the stage, where I wouldn’t have to raise my voice for him to hear me ... and then he continued pulling me. Suddenly, we were through a doorway and climbing a circular set of stone steps. His hand was low on my spine, directing me—though he allowed me to go ahead of him as we climbed. I took the steps slowly, checking in with my power. This was my chance. I couldn’t fuck it up. I couldn’t let Torstein get the better of me. Either he was taking me up there to kill me or seduce me—I wasn’t sure which. I needed to be ready to defend myself, or at least shield myself in some way. I couldn’t exactly knock him out and drag him home by his braid. It would probably cause the other guests to pause. I needed to convince him to leave with me in a more civilised manner.

  “Start talking,” he ordered, when we were halfway up the staircase.

  “She was my friend,” I told him, picking up my dress so that I wouldn’t trip on it.

  My new magic didn’t seem to be located anywhere specific. It was a replenishable force, desperate to explode from my skin cells. I had no idea how to control it or what I could use it for. By the feel of it, the possibilities seemed endless.

  “She told me all about you, before she disappeared.” I reached the top of the staircase, finding myself in a bare, undecorated tower room. Whatever efforts had been taken to restore the main ballroom had not been extended to the rest of the castle. It was almost like stepping out of a dream and back into reality—except that Torstein was still there, appearing in the door to the tower room, almost needing to turn sideways to fit through it.

  He didn’t reply to my statement, but the expression on his face remained serious as he stalked toward me. I quickly thrust out my palm between us, releasing my hold on the barely-restrained magic. A small, stone wall began to construct itself right there in front of me, halting Torstein’s forward progress. He watched it, his lips quirking up at the sides.

  “Tell me your name,” he ordered, and I felt the full force of his power wash over me, sucking the breath out of my chest and causing my fingers to shake, one of the stones cracking down the middle and falling from the wall I had built.

  “Isa.” The word fell out of me, stolen away into the sudden darkness of his eyes.

  “Come here, Isa.”

  I was walking toward him, but the wall stopped me. I lashed out at the stone with my newly acquired magic, causing the blocks to splinter and crack, half of the wall tumbling into dust. I stepped over the rubble, my hands slipping to his chest. His right hand found my hip, pulling me to the side and then pushing me back against the still-upright half of my wall.

  He released me from the hold of his power then, and I blinked as the heady rush of need ... mostly drained out of me. I tensed up, but didn’t move.

  “Alright,” I ground out. “Point taken. You’re bigger, badder and stronger.”

  “Now that we’ve established that, who the fuck is Sarah?” He took a single step backward, his touch falling away from my hip. I could still feel the burning pressure of his fingers even though he had stepped away. It made me uncomfortable.

  “I already told you. She was my friend,” I lied easily.

  “Yes but what does she have to do with me?”

  “We were out clubbing one night and I saw her dancing with you. She sent me a text that she was leaving with some guy, and I didn’t think anything of it until the next day. She disappeared. That was over a year ago.”

  He assessed me quietly, his head tilting a little to the side. He kicked his foot back, pushed the door closed, and then backed up another two steps to lean against it, crossing his arms.

  “So naturally, you discovered who I was,” he supplied, his expression showing nothing but a cas
ual interest in our conversation. “Asked around about me? Found out my name, my magical race.”

  “Your tastes, your habits, your other conquests,” I finished, letting the sentence trail between us.

  I could feel my chances at seducing him slipping away from me, inch by inch, so I tucked my hand behind my back, trying to manifest a weapon the same way I had manifested the stone wall. Gradually, a leather hilt filled out inside my grip. I tried to keep the smile off my face. If it weren’t for all the disastrous accidents that I could see in my immediate future, I would have been tempted to keep the warlock’s power for as long as possible. It just wasn’t worth burning down my apartment. Again.

  “And so you saw me here tonight and thought ...” he trailed off, that sharp smile returning to his face. His arms uncrossed, his hands held out to me, palms up, inviting an explanation.

  “Yes,” I ground out. “I thought I would seduce you, convince you to come home with me. And then I would make you tell me what you did with Sarah.”

  He looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Alright.” He nodded, turning to pull the door open. “I’ll make a deal with you, Sparky. If you do me five favours, I will let you take me home, without a fight.”

  “Five favours?” I questioned, letting my guard down for a moment, confusion rushing in to take its place.

  “Five small tasks. That’s all I ask. If you complete each one to my satisfaction, I’m yours for the rest of the night. You can do with me what you will, I won’t fight you, unless you try to kill or disfigure me ... I’m afraid I might have to draw a line there. My safe word is getthefuckawayfrommeyoucrazybitch.”

  I laughed, but immediately regretted the action when he grinned in response. Sadist assholes weren’t allowed to be sexy and funny and weirdly accommodating. It went against everything good and natural that I believed in.