Brush of Darkness (17 page)

“Of course not. I was very discreet.”

“Not discreet enough, apparently,” I pointed out.

“Yes. And when it became apparent that it wasn’t going to work out, I let her go.” There was no doubt in my mind that there was a hell of a lot more to this story than he was letting on, but maybe I’d pressed him hard enough. Then again . . .

“So, uh, do you usually Contract your feedings through your TouchStones?”

A wry sort of amusement crossed his face. “Yes. Interested in the job?”

“No. Just curious.” A flush prickled over my cheeks as he raised a brow. “What’s involved?”

“Trade secret.” He winked. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

“Pity.”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “It would be. I bet you’d be good at it, though.” He’d moved closer, his leg brushing mine. “Want to find out?” One hand slid over my wrist, thumb stroking the trembling pulse that hammered through my veins.

I stared at him, frozen. Was he serious? Bluffing? Did it matter? I searched his face, but if I expected a direct answer it wasn’t forthcoming.

The question hovered between us, crushed into the minute space of our breathing. “Oh, what the hell.” And I kissed him.

D
esire filled my belly, electric and alive. Warm . . . so warm, so goddamned hot. Whatever I thought I’d be doing flew out the window the moment his tongue darted into my mouth. No sex? What the fuck had I been thinking? I moaned softly, low in my throat, as his hand came up, stroked my face, gripped my chin. “So . . . different,” I gasped, felt his mouth smile against mine.

“Yes,” he growled, nipping at my lower lip before pulling back. His eyes were ringed with gold now, thrumming with desire. His mouth brushed over my cheek, his hand sliding to the back of my head. “Because
you
have chosen this . . . chosen me. I cannot help but respond.” He suckled on my ear.

“Christ,” I muttered hoarsely. “That sounds like a line from a two-bit porn movie. No wonder you were so cocky before.”

“It’s a gift.” He grinned, lifting me onto the table. My teacup shattered with a crash, but I barely heard it. My skirt was sliding up my legs as his hands cupped my ass. “I will bring you absolute pleasure in return for what you give me.”

“Do tell.” I shuddered, my hips rising to meet him, a flood of heat pulsing between my thighs. “Is this your doing?” My lower half squirmed beneath him. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a warning bell went off. This was too much, too fast, but oh, it felt so good . . .

“Some of it,” Brystion admitted, grinding into me. His mouth covered mine again, and for a moment I didn’t care about anything but the delicious thing he was doing with his fingers as they grazed the inner length of my thigh.

“I thought this sort of thing was only supposed to happen while I was sleeping.”

“Usually. I can wait,” he said softly, pulling back to look at me, the gold light of his eyes dimming. “If you’d prefer that.”

“It’s just a little fast. Not that I’m not horribly turned on,” I added hastily. “But my last . . . relationship with an Otherfolk guy really didn’t go so well.”
If you could even call it that,
I added silently.
More like being a living blood buffet.
“It wasn’t much of a Contract either. But this . . . this . . . God, Ion, I’ve never felt anything like this.”

He nodded, his mouth twisting wryly. “A bit of wooing, perhaps?”

“At least a bit.” I nodded, nipping at his chin. “I don’t mind a one-night stand or two, but if this is even remotely permanent . . .”

He sighed, his eyes fading to black. “I understand, but I can’t wait much longer. We don’t have to have sex, but I
am
going to need to feed. Here or in the Dreaming, it doesn’t matter to me. But if not you, then someone else.”

“Tonight,” I promised, sneaking a glance at my watch. It was nearly 1:00
P.M.
“Give me until tonight. I just need to wrap my head around it, that’s all.”

“Doesn’t look like it’s your head that needs wrapping, Sparky.” Robert’s voice drawled coolly from the doorway.
The angel leaned against the doorjamb, his upper lip curled in thinly veiled disgust.

I jerked my skirt down as Brysion pulled away, ignoring the flush of fire in my cheeks. “Anyone ever tell you it’s polite to knock?”

“Anyone ever tell you you shouldn’t leave the door unlocked?” Robert’s shoulders thrust back with single-minded purpose. He was here on business, and the sharpness of his gaze smacked of an owl discovering his mouse.

The angel was wingless, wearing ordinary street clothes. A hint of feathers crept over the edges of his coat like a crest of silver hummingbirds, and the sword at his side hummed with sheathed menace.

My jaw dropped beneath the heat of his words, hearing the worst of my fears suddenly thrown at me. “And you’re the fucking Queen of England, are you? What gives you the right to just barge in here?” I spared a glance at the incubus, who remained stoically quiet. “I am allowed to have a private life, you know.”

“Well, I had news for you. About Moira, actually. And I thought you might want to know that while you’ve been up here spreading your legs, someone’s ransacked the Pit.”

“What?” My gut went cold.

“Yeah. The front door was wide open and the back door looks like it was kicked in. It’s a damned mess down there. But clearly you were in the middle of something important, so I’ll just let you get back to it, shall I?”

“Is Katy all right?” I barked.

The angel frowned. “Who’s Katy? The place was empty. I figured it was just—”

Whatever he’d been about to say faded from my hearing as I jumped to my feet and dashed out the door, Brystion at my heels. The door to the storage room hung loosely on its hinges. It creaked ominously as I thundered past it,
scattering loose papers and packing peanuts everywhere. One of the inventory boxes appeared to have imploded down the hallway, leaving a distinct trail of pulp and pages scattered in front of Moira’s office. The scent of sulfur hung like a miasma of stale eggs and did nothing to improve the already rank odor of mildew and dust.

“Katy? Katy!” There was no answer, and no sign of the girl anywhere except a lock of her blond hair, as though someone had pulled it out during a struggle. I ducked behind the counter. My iPod lay on the floor, still valiantly chugging along even though the speakers had been ripped out of the wall.

My legs suddenly swayed out beneath me. “She’s gone,” I said, somehow tottering to one of the overstuffed chairs before collapsing, my head spinning with shock.

Brystion poked his head out the front door to look down the street, catching a curious glance from a passerby. “Maybe she got away.”

“Maybe you were supposed to be a decoy to Moira’s TouchStone so your infernal kin could wreck the place.” Robert blew out of his mouth, shaking his head as if to clear it. “That’s brimstone. That means daemons.” He glared at Brystion. “A lot of them.”

“That’s bullshit,” I retorted.

“Is it? Who’s to say he hasn’t been planning this all along?” Robert’s eyes glittered angrily. “I seem to recall a certain Dreameater promising to leave you alone and get out of town.”

“Can’t imagine where you would have heard that,” Brystion interjected smoothly. “I did no such thing. You told me what you wanted, but I never said what I would do.” He took the seat next to mine, lounging with an indolent smirk. “Not my fault if you misinterpreted.”

I glared at them both. “Could we please cut the crap and
concentrate on the matter at hand? You guys can go beat the shit out of each other later.” I ignored the sour looks they shot me. “I don’t have time to stroke your egos right now. We need to find Katy and make sure she’s all right.”

“I still say she escaped,” Brystion mused. “Why would they come after her anyway?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense. They didn’t take anything that I can see.” I got to my feet and paced in front of the door as the two men continued to trade barbs. A quick check with Robert confirmed that he hadn’t seen anything coming through the Door from the CrossRoads, but there were hidden ways and Glamours over half the city, so that didn’t mean anything. I kicked a shredded paperback from my path, frowning as something sharp spun away. I stooped for a closer look, my blood running cold as I picked up my name tag.

Wordlessly, I held it out to Robert. He peered at it. “What is this?”

“They weren’t after Katy,” I said, my voice thick. “They were after me. She was wearing my name tag.”

Brystion stared at me. “You gave her your name tag? Brilliant.”

“How the hell was I supposed to know? Do you see a damn sign out there inviting daemons to fucking kidnap the help? Dammit. We should have been down here!” I paced over to the front of the store, angry at him, angry at myself. And scared shitless.

“It’s not your fault,” the incubus said softly.

“No, it’s not,” I snarled. “You were the one that had to try to get all up my lady softness.”

“Didn’t see you fighting it.” His eyes flared for a moment and then he looked away.

I slammed the front door, locked it, and turned over the
CLOSED
sign. Slumping against the wall, I took stock of the
room. One sitting chair had been shredded, the upholstery vomiting stuffing all over the carpet. Jesus, what was I going to tell Brandon?

“Why would they be after me?” I wondered aloud.

Robert’s upper lip curled, and he moved with inhuman grace toward Brystion. “Damned good question. Let’s see if the Dreameater knows. Better yet, I think I’ll take him with me to the Judgment Hall.”

“What are the charges?” the incubus snapped.

“Conspiring to kidnap the Protectorate, of course,” Robert said with a withering smile. “You clearly violated Moira’s TouchStone in an effort to seduce her to your cause.”

“Bullshit.” I shoved the angel away. Or tried to. It was like trying to use a plastic shovel to chisel a brick wall, and about as effective. “This isn’t solving anything. I thought we were supposed to be trying to figure out where Moira was. And Sonja,” I amended, sparing a quick glance at her brother.

And now Katy,
my inner voice nudged. I winced. “And Katy,” I said softly. “I fail to see how arresting anyone is going to help us out here. Besides, we’ve found out some information about the missing succubi . . . and possibly Moira.”

“Have you?” Robert frowned at me as I explained about Moira’s painting in the gallery and the way Sonja’s painting appeared to be changing. “And you think Topher has something to do with this?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since the other night and he’s not answering his phone. But something isn’t right with those paintings. I don’t suppose Charlie had anything to say about it when hers was done?”

“Not that I remember.” He shook his head, his fingers trailing back down the hilt of his sword thoughtfully. “You may be right about the connection, though I certainly don’t
know how.” He straightened, grim lines etched into his forehead. “I made a few discreet inquiries along the CrossRoads. Moira is not in Faery, as best we can tell. Or anywhere else, for that matter.”

“And you don’t think she might have just left? Gone on vacation?” Brystion drawled from the storage room doorway. “The gods know if I had to look at your ugly mug every day, I’d probably leave too.”

“No, she wouldn’t have left,” the angel snapped. “Not without telling me.”

“But Robert . . . she did,” I pointed out. “She tacked a note on the door and she left.” I glanced over at Brystion, rolling my eyes at him. Nothing like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Or in Robert’s case, a bull with horns that flipped up to shoot 50-caliber bullets. And had flamethrowers in his hooves.

Robert’s nostrils flared out like said bull and for a moment I wondered if he might not just charge past me. He sucked in a deep breath. “There’s a formal inquiry in the works. We’re to meet with the Faery liaison tomorrow to discuss the issue,” he said finally. “It’s an official Hearing, so I’ll need you to present whatever information you have then. Maybe a better pattern will unfold when we’ve got something to look at. In the meantime, I’ll be taking your friend here into custody.”

“You and what army, pindancer?” Brystion’s jaw hardened.

“That one.” Robert gestured toward the storage room where another Celestial suddenly materialized. The beefy angel loomed there, blocking any way of escape. “It will go easier on you if you just turn yourself in, you know.” Robert’s voice was smug, daring Brystion to try something.

“Too convenient.” The incubus bared his teeth at the newcomer, the angel returning in kind as he captured
Brystion’s arms behind him. Brystion wasn’t exactly fighting him, but I could see the redness in his face, and the sharp movement of his wrists as they were bound behind his back. His lips pursed in self-mocking amusement, but there was nothing funny about that shadowed gaze or the way it swept past me in helpless rage.

“But that makes no sense! He’s been
helping
me.” I slammed my hand down on one of the stacks, wincing when the bottom shelf collapsed beneath the blow.

“He knows too much, first of all. I can’t have him running his mouth and letting it slip that Moira is gone.”