She pushed herself tighter to him. “More.” She pressed her lips back to his, lifted herself up enough that she could reach between them and unbutton his jeans. Her skirt was around her hips, leaving only her underwear between them. She ripped it away; the sound of tearing cloth brought an encouraging sound from Cillian.
They were on the floor. She was straddling him, moments from crossing the line she swore she would not cross.
Better sex than murder.
She pulled away and looked down at him.
I could swallow his final breath as he…
She lowered herself onto him and shuddered. Sex and death, all at once, she could have it all. She licked her lips and leaned forward.
“Eavan!” Suddenly, Muriel was there, pulling her backward. The small vampire was more than a match for Eavan.
Muriel pulled Eavan off Cillian.
Eavan hissed. Muriel slapped her.
Cillian looked dazed. He scrambled to his feet, naked and somehow already aiming a gun at Muriel.
“Get in the car,” Muriel said, or perhaps repeated, if the way she bit off each word was any indication. She stayed like a guard between Cillian and Eavan. “And tell him who I am, Evvie, before he tries to shoot me.”
“Friend,” Eavan forced out. Forming words just then was a trial, but she did it. “Muriel’s a friend. I called her.”
Cillian lowered his gun.
Eavan’s gaze followed the lowering weapon and fell on Cillian’s very beautiful naked, just-out-of-reach body. She tried to step around Muriel. “I’m fine here.”
Muriel sighed. “I’m sorry about this, Mr. Owens, but until she’s thinking clearly, it’s for the best.”
Then she punched him.
8
Eavan had a violent case of the shakes by the time she was a mile away from her apartment. It was a little mortifying to think that Muriel had seen her so out of control with a human, but at least she had been there to stop Eavan.
“I owe you,” she said, not looking at Muriel yet.
“Sweetie,” Muriel drawled, “you always owe me for something or other. You just count yourself lucky that I don’t call in all those chits.”
“Why did you stop me?” Eavan had heard Muriel’s lectures on “giving in” often enough that she was a little surprised.
Muriel glanced over at her, taking her eyes off the road long enough that it gave Eavan a pleasant shiver of danger. When Muriel looked back at the road, she answered, “When you choose to cross those lines, I’m good with it, but it’s not my place to help you cross them…unless you decide in advance…preferably with me along for the ride.” She flashed a fanged grin at Eavan.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever be woman enough for you,” Eavan admitted.
Muriel laughed, not cruelly, but in that way that made clear that she knew secrets that the rest of the world could only guess at. “I’ll be gentle the first time…although I’m not so sure that’s what you’re looking for. You came near to breaking your mortal.”
“I’m mortal, too.” Eavan wasn’t sure of it just then; she felt pretty far from mortal after the way she’d thrown herself at Cillian. The words, the reminder—to herself and to Muriel—were important though. “I’m still mortal.”
“You are, sweetie.” Muriel reached over and squeezed her head. “You haven’t killed anyone, and I don’t know if that was sex enough to count.”
Eavan and Muriel had discussed what constituted “sex” often enough, but there weren’t any clear answers. Things Other were notoriously prone to loopholes, semantics, and arguments of intention. If she considered it true sex, would it be? Or was it the definition of the matriarch? Or was it the interpretation of some long dead ancestor? Eavan had no answers, but she did know that she needed to tread extra carefully the next month. Just in case. One month without murder—usually that wouldn’t sound so impossible.
“Help me stop Daniel?” Eavan stared out the window into the dimly lit parking lot of the Chaos Factory. Somewhere out there, her prey waited.
“It’s a trap.” Muriel pulled in and zipped around the line of cars to go to the valet stand. “You know that, right?”
“I do.” Eavan accepted a hand as she slid out of Muriel’s Vanquish.
Muriel walked around the car and wrapped an arm around Eavan. Then she caught and held the valet’s gaze.
“Don’t joyride,” she warned. Her fangs appeared just long enough to scare the valet. “If any of you so much as stroke the car, you’re dinner.”
The valet shuddered. He wouldn’t remember the words, or seeing the fangs, but he would take good care of Muriel’s car.
“This is a bad idea, Eavan.” Muriel motioned at the club. “Going in there when you’re like this is a really bad idea.”
“I need to get the girl out,” Eavan insisted. “I can handle it.”
Silently, Muriel walked past Eavan.
She didn’t need vampire powers to charm the doorman. She skipped the line and went to stand in front of him. Eavan followed. Muriel wrapped an arm around her again. This time, though, she stroked her fingers over Eavan’s hip.
Eavan gasped. “Muriel…”
As Eavan leaned in to Muriel’s caress, she felt the doorman and innumerable mortals in the waiting line respond to the tease of a show.
Not as much as I am.
“Shhh, sweetie,” Muriel whispered in her ear. “We’ll be able to dance in a sec.” To the doorman, she added in a low whisper, “My girl’s in a bit of a mood. Can we skip the line? She’s not much of an exhibitionist unless the music’s on.”
The doorman grinned and motioned them inside.
They stopped just inside the door. Muriel’s hand slid up and across the small of Eavan’s back. “This is where we are, Ev. You’re not in any shape to be here.”
“Staying here.” Eavan swallowed. She fisted her hands, driving small half moons into her palms. “I’ve been almost as bad before.”
“Not in years.”
“I can do this.” Eavan forced the craving back as hard as she could. “Please, Muriel?”
Muriel shook her head, but she asked, “Tell me the ground rules.”
“Don’t let Daniel take me anywhere. Get the girl out.” Eavan leaned against a wall, feeling the onslaught of music, the thrum of sexual energy, the lure of prey in the club. “No sex with anyone. Knock my ass out if you need to.”
“Anything up to that point or nothing at all?” Muriel forced Eavan to look at her.
“Nothing with anyone but you. If I need…if…” Eavan hated to ask Muriel to be her crutch. “I don’t want to hurt…you’re strong.”
Muriel laughed. “Woe is me.”
“We’re friends.” Eavan would hate herself if Muriel actually attached emotion to sex. They’d pushed a few barriers over the years though, so it wasn’t unheard of. Muriel was the closest to sex Eavan had been.
Until tonight.
“I’m here.” Muriel’s teasing vanished. “Just like old times, right? I get all the fun, and you refuse to enjoy yourself.”
Eavan laughed. “I plead the Fifth…actually…” She took Muriel’s hand and led the way to one of the bars. “Redbreast. Triple shot. Neat.”
The bartender looked at Muriel.
“Crown, rocks, with a splash.” She paused and looked behind her as if the man standing there was with them. “And a vodka tonic, neat.”
“That was mean,” Eavan whispered. “I hate vodka.”
Muriel sighed. “Vodka’s mine, sweets. You can have my whiskey.”
With a grateful smile, Eavan took the two glasses of whiskey when the bartender returned. She upended the triple and left the glass behind. It was a start. The whiskey was a comforting narcotic, numbing her senses enough to help block the cravings a little.
For the next two hours, they pushed through the crowd, pausing at each of the bars rather than running a tab, so as not to alarm any of the bartenders with how much she was consuming. Not enough for a glaistig,
but far more than a real mortal could drink safely. Even still, Eavan was one pulsing nerve after pressing too close to mortals, all but stoned on the pheromones in the club.
Another hour passed. Daniel was nowhere to be found. She could feel him nearby several times, close enough to set her body on edge, but when she turned he was not near enough to find.
What game is he playing?
“Daniel’s not here.” Muriel yelled the words. They’d just made another circuit of the main dance floor.
He was, but the only way for Eavan to know that was through some creepy affinity that Eavan wasn’t about to admit to Muriel. It was stronger now, a compulsion to seek him. Is this how the zombie girls feel? She was sure she hadn’t ingested any of his drugs, but she felt called to him. It didn’t make sense.
She slammed the rest of her latest glass of whiskey, and then took Muriel’s out of her hand and downed it, too.
Muriel led the way to the stairs. “Top bar,” she mouthed.
Eavan nodded and followed. At the top, Muriel pushed open the heavy door. They went into the lavish room, and the door fell closed with a thud, sealing out most of the noise. It wasn’t silent, but the top floor bar was designed to make conversation possible.
“Oh shit,” Eavan whispered. Cillian was standing at the bar, looking far from happy.
Muriel put her back to him. “Give me rules, Evvie. Are you okay?”
“I am.” Eavan was able to look away from him. “I’ve had a half a fifth already. Everything is sleeping now.”
Muriel smiled at Cillian as he came up beside her. “How’s the head?”
“I’m fine.” Cillian scowled, but to his credit he didn’t do anything else.
Muriel gave him a quick once-over. “I know.”
His scowl deepened, so Eavan stepped closer and told Muriel.
“Should I stay?” Muriel asked.
Eavan shook her head. “I’m good…because of you. Again.”
With a wicked grin, Muriel brushed a quick kiss over Eavan’s lips. “Be safe, Ev.”
Once she was gone, Eavan turned to face Cillian. “Are you okay? Really?”
He closed his eyes like he was trying to control the temper that was playing in the edges of his expression. “About the blueballs? Yes. About your girlfriend knocking me out? I guess. About you running out so I can’t do my fucking job? No, not so much.”
“I’m sorry,” she told him yet again.
“For which part?”
“Everything but the running out,” she admitted with a small smile. In the space between words, she paused. Her skin was crawling: Daniel was near. Perhaps he’d stayed away only because Muriel was in the bar.
Cillian took Eavan’s elbow and led her to a table toward the back of the room. “Are you on something, Eavan?”
“Like drugs? Me?” She felt her mouth curving into a smile at the thought.
If he knew the truth, what would he think?
The cocktail waitress, thankfully, chose that moment to stop at the table. Cillian waited while Eavan ordered another drink. Through a tinted window they could see the main dance floor. In the middle of the floor, surrounded by guards, Daniel stood. He stared up as if he could see her through the darkened glass.
Eavan stood and stepped closer to the window.
In the crowd below, Daniel waited. Cuddled into his arms was a very malleable young woman. Daniel kept her upright. He kissed her forehead and then looked up at Eavan and mouthed, “I’ll let her go if”—he stopped a group of women, gave the girl over to their care, and then looked back up at Eavan—“you come see me soon, Eve.”
Cillian came to stand beside her; he peered into the crowd below. “Are you looking for someone? A dealer? Brennan again? If your family is trying to protect you because you’re mixed up in something…”
She walked away from the window. Daniel was gone. It wasn’t a trap, but a negotiation. What do I do now? She couldn’t chase after him; the idea of seeing him in this state was sheer foolishness. She couldn’t take Cillian, either…or leave him behind. Rage started to build inside her. She was a glaistig, not some child to be toyed with and broken. Daniel had no clue who he was taunting.
Eavan watched the mortals of the dance floor. It looked so normal. That’s the sort of life she’d used to dream of having; it was the life she thought she could have one day. Nyx had seemed to be giving her a little more freedom. Everything seemed to be going well—until Nyx hired Cillian. Until Daniel.
She’s been watching me the whole time.
There was no normal, only degrees of beautiful lies.
Eavan knew the answer, but she asked all the same: “Did my cousin hire you because of Daniel?”
Cillian didn’t reply or flinch, but his silence was answer enough for her.
Eavan held down “1” on her mobile and said, “Grandmother.”
Nyx didn’t bother with greetings at this hour. “Are you injured?”
“No.” Eavan watched Cillian as she spoke. “How long have you known?”
“Long enough to see that you were too far gone,” Nyx said. “I don’t like Brennan. Not for you or for anyone. Especially not as your first.”
“You know what he’s doing?” Eavan asked, still watching Cillian.
“Of course I do.” Nyx sighed. “That’s not your business though, Evvie. Brennan is trouble. The powder he uses…it’s really not good for our kind. It works on some of us, too.”
Eavan looked away then. She’d been a fool to think she could hide anything from her matriarch, and in that instant, she had to wonder if she truly could do anything beyond Nyx’s control. “This doesn’t change the other thing. I’m done with Daniel because I’m not able to—”
“Ask your Cillian what his real job is,” Nyx interrupted.
Eavan looked up and caught Cillian’s gaze. “What do you do for real?”
“I’m your bodyguard.”
On the other end of the phone, Nyx made a rude sound. “Tell him to tell you the rest.”
“Nyx wants me to know,” she told him. “She said…”
Cillian held out his hand for the phone. Silently, she released it.
He held it up to his ear, listened for a moment, and then scowled and hung up. Quietly, he said, “Let’s take a walk.”
9
Cillian wasn’t sure what he hated more, the fact that he had to tell Eavan that he was with the C.D.A. or the fact that he seemed to have picked up a second supervisor. He wanted to tell Nyx to piss off, but his superiors would be anything but pleased if he lost his “anonymous” source so soon—plus that whole threat business of Nyx’s echoed in his mind.
Eavan was silent by his side as they walked down the street toward a tiny park that was reasonably well-lit. He stopped at a small cluster of unoccupied benches. It was late enough that they had a bit of privacy.
“I’m here investigating him,” Cillian told her. “Your cousin offered me a wealth of information on his activities, among other things, in exchange for protecting you.”
Eavan laughed, a bitter sound that made him want to comfort her. She sat down beside him. “Threats, sex, or money?”
He didn’t pretend to be shocked. “Not sex.”
“With her at least.”
“With any of them,” Cillian corrected.
Eavan was silent for a moment. “She hired you in the hopes that I’d sleep with you. It’s an obsession of hers.”
“Excuse me?” He angled his body so he was facing her. Of all the things he’d been prepared to hear, that wasn’t anywhere on the list. “She hired me because she knew you were spending time with Brennan, and he’s bad news.”
“He is.” Eavan took a breath. “But Nyx could’ve simply broken a few of my bones if all she wanted was to keep me away from Daniel.”
“She could’ve”—Cillian lowered his voice as a small group of people walked by—“broken your bones. You say that like it’s an everyday event.”
“Not these days, but…” Eav
an shrugged. “Nyx is in charge. I’m guessing you already know on some level how terrible she is, else we wouldn’t be having this conversation. She picked you for reasons that aren’t about guarding me from Daniel. She picked you for me to have sex with.”
“Does she pick a lot of people for you to sleep with?” He tried to keep his voice even, but the idea that his family had been threatened, his life endangered, his career toyed with, and his peace of mind completely upended over sex was infuriating. It isn’t Eavan’s fault, he reminded himself. She’d been adamant that she did not want him around.
Eavan blushed. “No, you’re supposed to be the first.”
“Well that’s something, at—” He stopped mid-sarcasm. “The first first…like…”
“Yes.” She looked about as comfortable as he felt. “The very first. My virginity is a matter of family irritation.”
“Your family is concerned over your being a virgin.” He said the words slowly. “So you were dating a drug dealer and your cousin hired me to have sex with you? Is that what earlier was…Never mind.”
“No, earlier was about my wanting you. It was a mistake. A pleasurable one but a mistake nonetheless…and I wasn’t dating Daniel.” Eavan smiled regretfully. “I know it all seems a bit odd.”
“You think?”
They sat there for a moment while Cillian tried to figure out what to say. On the phone, Nyx had been very clear in her orders to be “completely honest” with Eavan and then report to the house to speak with her. Screw it. He was already so far out of his comfort zone that he wasn’t sure he’d be seeing level ground again. “Can I ask you what you are?”
“What I am?” she repeated.
“I’ve met your family…and now this. You’re not quite like most humans, right?”
“I can see where you’d get that. I’m human, mostly,” she hedged. “I’d like to stay that way, too.”
“Explain?”
“There are a couple things I can’t do if I am to stay human.” She squirmed, and a blush burned up her cheeks. “My grandmother Nyx would like me to do those things. She’s not particularly pleased with my intention to live and die as a human.”