To Kill A Warlock Page 5

  “I cannot put anything past you, Dulcie.” He chuckled. “She said he could find you at Headquarters. Then he paid for his drink and walked out. End of story.”

  I was quiet as I considered it. If the stranger had been looking for me, why hadn’t he just approached me at Fabian’s? True, I’d left there in a hurry once the little creep had bespelled me. And, maybe the stranger hadn’t known what I looked like. But, as a fairy, my ears give me away. If he knew I was a fairy, then he would’ve known me from Fabian’s store. It wasn’t like there were lots of fairies in Splendor. In fact, there were only two—Zara the hooker and me.

  “When was the stranger here?” I demanded.

  Bram looked up at the ceiling as if it had an answer for him. “Evening before last.”

  Before Fabian’s death. Interesting.

  “Are we done with him yet?” Sam asked, sipping the last of her vodka tonic through the straw until it sounded like the ice cubes were snoring.

  Bram turned toward me expectantly, a smile just stealing his lips.

  “Mmm, I like the sound of that. Use me then throw me away.”

  “Yeah, we’re done.”

  Bram stood up so quickly, I didn’t see him move. “Very well, I will leave you two as I have things to do and people to see. Samantha, drinks are free if you are interested. Dulcie insists on paying for hers.”

  He gave a theatrical bow and walked away. I glanced at Sam, who sat as still as a tombstone. “What prompted me to ever date him?” she muttered.

  I laughed. “Beats the hell out of me.”

  She just shook her head, and we both faced the throng of dancers on the floor. Holy Hades, I was so not in the mood to dance. Fabian loomed in the back of my mind like a monster in a kid’s closet.

  “Do you want to get out of here?” Sam asked.

  I frowned. “Why? I thought you wanted to go out partying tonight?”

  “I’m not really feeling it at the moment. You?”

  “Actually, I was just thinking the same thing.”

  She stood up. “Brilliant minds think alike.”

  She started for the door, and I was right behind her. I stopped at the bar and mouthed “credit card” to Angela. She was quick with the receipt. I signed it and dropped the pen back on the bar.

  “Thanks Angela. By the way, did a tall, dark-haired stranger come looking for me?”

  “Yeah, maybe two nights ago. I told him he could find you at Headquarters.”

  “And he didn’t say anything else?”

  She shook her head. “Nope, that was it.”

  So, Bram hadn’t been full of it.

  “Great, thanks Angela. Have a good night.”

  “Will do, night guys.”

  I followed Sam outside where Nick gave us a quick smile. Sam didn’t even slow down but ran-walked to the car as if she had to pee.

  I unlocked the door with my beeper remote.

  “Do you want to go somewhere else or call it a night?” I asked.

  Sam threw herself into the passenger seat. “I think I just want to go to bed.”

  I started the Wrangler and pulled out of the driveway.

  “Okay, sounds fine to me.” Clearly, something was wrong, and I was pretty sure that something happened to have dark hair and a winning smile, even if he was a jerk.

  “Are you okay, with seeing Bram and all?”

  Nick watched us drive by and waved. I waved back, but I don’t think Sam even noticed him. Poor ogre.

  She sighed. Yeah, she wasn’t okay.

  “I thought I was, but I don’t know. He’s just so cute.”

  “Yeah, he’s cute. It’s a shame the cute ones are always jerks or if not jerks, gay.”

  She nodded. “I mean, I think I’m over him. It just sometimes sucks seeing someone again that you used to have feelings for, you know?”

  I knew only too well. I’d moved to Splendor from Estuary to ensure I wouldn’t have any run-ins with my ex. And so far so good.

  “Well, give it another couple of weeks, and I bet you’ll be totally over him. You just need to find his replacement.”

  “I could say the same to you about Jack,” she said and laughed. “You’d think between you and me and our abilities, we could create the perfect guy.”

  I shook my head, instantly picturing Frankenstein. So not wanting to try that anytime soon. I had enough problems as it was. Still, it was an interesting thought… What was wrong with me? I was so not contemplating creating a man. Ludicrous.

  “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Sam asked with a wide grin.

  No point in lying. “Sort of. But not seriously, of course. It would be cool though. Create some totally hot guy and make him clean our houses and do dishes and laundry.”

  “And watch chick movies with us,” Sam added with a sigh.

  I laughed and pulled up to her house. Sam undid her seatbelt and opened the door. “Thanks, Dulce. I guess I’ll see you Monday.”

  I nodded. “Well, have a good weekend if I don’t talk to you sooner.”

  She hopped down from the Wrangler and pulled her house keys from her purse. I waited for her to unlock the front door. Before disappearing inside, she turned and waved. I pulled into the street and headed for my house, imagining our invented man wearing nothing but an apron and ironing my clothes.

  ###

  Captain Slade stood before me on the sandy beaches of some foreign place that looked like Tahiti. The beaches were white, the sky dissolving into the ocean on the horizon. The Captain’s chest was bare, a ragged pair of pants his only clothing. My gaze traveled up his exquisite body until it rested on his face. But, it wasn’t his face at all, it was Quillan’s.

  “What are you doing dressed as a pirate?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “I’ve been Captain Slade all along.”

  I shook my head and couldn’t grasp how that could be. Captain Slade was a fictional character, and Quillan was my boss. I glanced at him again and Bram smiled back at me.

  “You’re the last person I wanted to see,” I said, horrified as he started toward me.

  Bram threw me a smirk that was so uniquely his, he could patent it.

  “Dulce, Sweet, you know you find me attractive…”

  “Dulcie, I need to speak with you.”

  It was a voice I didn’t recognize. It reverberated through the sky almost like it belonged to the clouds. But clouds don’t talk. I glanced around but couldn’t find the perpetrator.

  “Who is that?” I asked Bram.

  “Who is what?” he said and then shrugged, taking hold of my arms. “Let’s talk about us, Dulcie.”

  I jerked away from him, the sand slipping between my toes and tickling me like thousands of fleas.

  “There is no us,” I said, my eyes still searching the clouds.

  “Dulcie.”

  It was the voice again. Frustration surged through me as I searched the clouds, spinning around and around, but finding nothing. With a sigh, I stopped, feeling slightly dizzy. As soon as my gaze dropped from the sky, I was in Bram’s club. Bram was nowhere to be found. In fact, I was sitting in a booth completely alone—like No Regrets hadn’t opened for the night. So what was I doing here?

  I glanced at the table and found a drink before me. I brought the straw to my mouth and took a couple sips. Hmm, Vodka Cranberry. Not bad. I glanced up and found the stranger who’d been in Fabian’s store sitting across from me.

  “You,” I said.

  He smiled. “Sorry to interrupt your dream.”

  “I’m dreaming?” I repeated, staring into the crystal blue of his eyes.

  “You were.” He paused. “You’ll wake up thinking this was a dream but you need to convince yourself it’s real. We have much to discuss.”

  I put the drink down, and it disappeared into the surface of the table. “You were in Fabian’s store that day. I saw you.”

  He nodded. “I was there looking for you.”

  “But, I was there. Why didn’t you…�
�

  He shook his head. “The situation wasn’t right, Dulcie.”

  “Who are you?”

  He smiled and it was beautiful. “When we meet, I’ll tell you.”

  “How do I find you? I don’t even know what your name is.”

  “I’m waiting for you outside. Just come out.”

  I blinked and found I wasn’t in Bram’s club anymore but was in my bed. My alarm clock glowed eerily, the only beacon of light in the dark room. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, glancing around myself as if to prove I really was where I thought I was. Talk about a weird dream.

  Then I remembered the stranger’s words—You’ll wake thinking this was a dream. But, you need to convince yourself it’s real. We have much to discuss….Just come out.

  Hmm. I rolled onto my side, threw my pillow over my head and went back to sleep.

  FIVE

  My writer’s block was finally gone. It was two a.m. on Monday morning, and I had to go to work in seven hours. I typed the final scene of Captain Slade’s Bounty, clicked save and leaned back, my chair squeaking in protest.

  I’d done it. Finished. A slow grin spread across my face as my imagination went into overdrive. I could see it…me landing the perfect agent and making loads of cash. I shut the computer down and walked my empty coffee mug back to the kitchen all the while trying to force myself to yawn, knowing I should get to bed. I just wasn’t tired. Too much caffeine pounded through my veins.

  There was an energy in me that would only be appeased by exercise. I threw on stretch pants and a sports bra, then fished my sneakers out from underneath my bed. A good jog would wear me out. Then I could sleep. Jogging in the near middle of the night might not sound too bright, but who was going to mess with a fairy?

  I locked the door behind me and started down the steps of my apartment. The air had a certain chill to it, something cold at the moment, but as soon as my blood started pumping, I’d welcome the coolness.

  I picked up my feet and started jogging, enjoying the fact that I seemed to be the only person awake at this hour. There’s a certain intimacy to the night when you don’t have to share it with anyone. The sound of my feet pounding against the pavement was my own type of meditation; the chirp of crickets overlaid with the shuffling of various night creatures music to my ears.

  I started up the base of a large hill, looking forward to cresting the top. The steep incline was making itself known in the burn of my calves. I hadn’t gone for a run in over a week. Usually, it didn’t sting like this.

  “You can do it,” I whispered to myself. Hey, even the magical sometimes need a few words of encouragement.

  Gritting my teeth, I closed my eyes and pushed my legs into the ground. The asphalt leveled off and my muscles relaxed. I opened my eyes with a grin. My gaze focused and my smile faded.

  A man stood directly in front of me—maybe ten feet away.

  I gasped and stopped in my tracks. Every nerve in my body was alert and standing at attention. My body was poised, ready to rebuff an attack. It was a built-in response in law enforcement. You never know when some asshole’s going to try to make your day.

  The man was dressed in black. His hooded sweatshirt hung low over his face, making him look like the Grim Reaper, only without the scythe. He dropped the hood, and in the moonlight, I recognized the stranger from Fabian’s store.

  I sucked in a breath. He was just as beautiful as I’d first thought. His black hair had the same reflective quality as raven’s wings and glowed under the moonbeams. The moonlight heightened the angular planes of his face, throwing shadows beneath his cheeks and the square lines of his jaw.

  Even if he was beautiful, that didn’t mean he wasn’t here to kill me. And, as far as I was concerned, he was here to kill me.

  “What do you want?” I said, taking a step back, my feet shoulder width apart and my body tuned to lunge into action should this stranger make a wrong move. Then I remembered I’d left my Op 6 with the dragon blood bullets on the floor next to my bed. How convenient. Well, I could nail him with a lightning bolt or maybe make the ground open up and swallow him.

  He made the mistake of coming toward me.

  I shook my palm until a mound of fairy dust emerged. I blew the particles at him and imagined him frozen. He stopped mid-gait, like he was stuck in freeze frame; the ice surrounding him twinkled like diamonds. I dropped my shoulders, moving my right arm in a circle, trying to get the blood back into my shoulder. I’d held myself so straight, awaiting his attack, I felt a bit frozen, myself.

  Either way, I’d just taken down the man who’d probably killed Fabian.

  No help from anyone. No problem. Dulcie O’Neil: Regulator extraordinaire. Just what I needed for my review.

  I neared him carefully, trying to figure out what the hell he’d wanted from me. No sooner did the thought leave my head, then the ice shattered around him and dropped in an ineffectual mound. I jumped back as a bolt of fear shot through me. As if he’d never even been frozen, he strode toward me again, and he didn't appear to be in a forgiving mood.

  I backed up and throwing another handful of fairy dust, imagined a circle of fire surrounding him. He walked right through it. Just walked through the flames like they weren’t even there. Not good. Really not good.

  “Stop screwing around,” he said in a deep, harsh voice. “I just want to talk.”

  “Then stop walking.”

  He didn’t take my advice, so with another thrust of fairy dust, I pictured a lightning bolt. Once I had it sizzling in my hand, I unloaded it on him. He took the bolt right in the chest and fell with the weight of it, landing on his back. It looked like it had not only taken him down, but knocked him completely out. He had to be dead. No one could survive that much energy. Well, maybe a vampire could, but somehow I didn’t think this guy was a vamp.

  I kicked his foot, and it shifted slightly but it was an involuntary motion. He was out cold. Which meant I was safe. I squatted down on my calves and reached for his neck, intending to check for a pulse. As soon as I touched him, I felt myself fly through the air and land flat on my back, the air completely pushed out of my lungs.

  Then the stranger was atop me, holding my arms down with a superhuman strength. Maybe he was a vampire.

  Stars exploded behind my eyes like a fireworks show. I closed my eyes and forced myself to see through the stars. If I passed out, I was as good as dead—it was an open invitation for this jerk to rape or kill me or something worse. I opened my eyes again and could clearly focus on his face as it loomed above me. He wore no expression—just stoic placidity.

  “Behave yourself and I’ll let you up.”

  I just nodded, the wheezing in my chest admitting its own kind of defeat. “What do you want?”

  “To talk. I tried to reach you in your dreams but you ignored me.”

  “Who are you?” I managed to choke out.

  “Can we go somewhere more private? I don’t want the neighbors to wake up.”

  I narrowed my eyes. It was just as it had been in Fabian’s store. There was absolutely no hint of anything—not the smell of a werewolf, nor the pounding in my blood that usually hinted at a vampire. Zip, zilch, nada, nothing.

  “There’s a park up the street. Should be empty and there aren’t any houses nearby,” I managed. “That means you’ll have to get off me.”

  He stood, but watched me as if ready to pounce. “Lead the way.”

  I got to my feet, rubbing the pain out of my hands. I met his eyes and immediately started forward, keeping a sizable gap between us.

  “How’d you get into my dream?”

  He smiled, and his teeth reflected the moonlight. But, I was more concerned with the fact that I couldn’t detect any fangs.

  “I have that capability. The power of persuasion. I persuaded you to let me in.”

  Eerie. “What are you?”

  He stopped walking. I stopped walking.

  “How about introductions first? I’m Knight and you’re Dulcie.
Nice to meet you.”

  He extended his hand, but I didn’t take it—I had no clue what he wanted. Best to keep my defenses up. He dropped his hand, and we started walking again.

  “How do you know my name?”

  “I’m from the A.N.C. relations office in the Netherworld.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slate tablet about the width of my palm. He handed it to me. I noted his image that appeared on the tablet—the stone turning into what looked like a screen. It was a three-dimensional photo—three dimensional to make it difficult to forge. I searched for the indentation on the back that would prove it was an original. I’d met a handful of people from the A.N.C. relations office and knew what their badges looked like. I found the indentation on the back and slipped my thumb into the slit.

  “Dulcie O’Neil, Regulator, Splendor,” a computerized voice read out from the screen. So far, so good.

  “I wish to know if you have a…Knight among the relations office employees,” I said, eyeing the subject all the while.

  The tablet was quiet as it searched its profiles. “Knightley Vander, Association of Netherworld Creatures, Relations Officer, third precinct.”

  So, he wasn’t lying. I handed the slate tablet back.

  “Believe me now?” he asked.

  It was impossible for someone to fake a Netherworld badge to this extent. It had to be real. “Yeah, okay. What are you?”

  We reached the park, and Knight took a seat on one of the swings. He looked ridiculous but, okay, sexy. Ahem, really sexy.

  “You haven’t come across my species before. There aren’t any of us on Earth.”

  That explained why I couldn’t tell what kind of creature he was.

  “So, you’re from the Netherworld?”

  “Yes, I’m a Loki. We were born from the fires of Hades.”

  A Loki. Weird. I’d always thought Hades was just a fable.

  “So, what can you do?” I asked, sounding like a kid comparing video games.

  “I can withstand fire for one thing,” he said and laughed, thinking himself funny. I didn’t.

  “What do you do for the Relations office?”

  He shifted back and forth in the swing, shuffling his feet. “I’m a detective.”