1
Sorsha
I hadn’t always wanted to end the world, even after it’d started to seem that a significant portion of the world wanted to end me.
The specific people who’d been after me most recently might still be lurking on the other side of the plywood wall I was now eyeballing from the sidewalk across the street. I couldn’t see much other than the skeleton of steel girders rising up above it.
Construction workers perched in their neon vests at various points across that skeleton. That was new. Before, it’d looked like the construction site that hid my enemies’ secret facility was just a front. Surprise, surprise: apparently all those beams and boards were actually going to construct a building.
“Okay,” I murmured. “I’m going in.”
If you were watching, it’d have looked as if I crossed the road alone. I was counting on my monstrous companions—four of them now, up from a trio to a quartet—slinking after me through the shadows. More properly called “shadowkind,” beings like them had gotten the name both because of the darkness of their natural realm and their ability to sink into and travel through the darkness in ours. Which also conveniently meant they could leap out of that darkness and tackle anyone who tried to tackle me.
We were pretty sure the crew of monster hunters and torture-happy scientists we’d faced off against wouldn’t attack me in broad daylight with multiple witnesses, but I wasn’t tossing all caution to the wind. Three cheers for supernatural bodyguards!
The buzz of a saw carried from deeper within the construction site. As I walked over to the half-open gate where the workers had driven a couple of trucks in, the tang of fresh-cut pine wood in the warm summer air tickled my nose.
I’d kind of hoped that simply strolling in would get me where I wanted to go. A lot of the time, looking like you knew you were allowed to be someplace would convince everyone around you of it too. No such luck today.
A guy with a gray helmet, an orange vest, and a moustache so bushy a squirrel could have borrowed it as a substitute tail stepped into my path and held up his hand. “Where do you think you’re going, Miss?”
For those of you taking notes: you can get good mileage out of a well-placed giggle too. “Oh,” I said with a little laugh. “I’m sorry. Something of mine blew over the fence—I just wanted to grab it.”
A couple of the other workers sauntered over. Mr. Moustache glanced around. “Do you see it here? I didn’t notice anything.”
I tapped my lips, pretending to scan our surroundings. “No, maybe it drifted farther in. Couldn’t I just take a quick look around? It doesn’t look like you’re doing anything at the moment that’d make me fear for my life.” I raised my eyes to the girders above.
One of the younger guys chuckled, but the moustache dude shook his head. “Sorry, Miss, but we could get in a lot of trouble if we let pedestrians wander around. What is it you lost? You can give us your contact information, and we’ll keep an eye out for it.”
It needed to be something that could have easily slipped from my hand and been caught in the wind. The words tumbled out before I’d given them much thought. “It was a napkin. A paper napkin with a phone number on it.”
Did they look skeptical? I folded my arms over my chest and put on my most convincing tone. “It was from a really hot guy, okay? I don’t want him to think I couldn’t be bothered to shoot him a text.”
The guy who’d chuckled now waggled his eyebrows. “We could give you a few phone numbers to make up for the loss.”
Very funny. In reality, I was getting more than enough action these days. Sure, it was from men these dudes wouldn’t believe existed, but that was part of what I liked about my new lovers.
Before I could answer, Mr. Moustache handled the come-on for me. “We haven’t got time for this messing around. After all the delays on continuing construction, they’ll hand us our asses if we don’t get on with it.” He bobbed his head to me. “If you give me your phone number, I promise I’ll only call if one of us turns up your napkin.”
I sighed dramatically. “Oh, well, if it’s drifted off that far maybe it’s just not meant to be. Can’t fight destiny! Thanks for your help, though.” I sauntered out without waiting for their response.
Since it wouldn’t exactly do for the regular mortals to witness my monstrous companions emerging from the shadows as if appearing out of thin air, I couldn’t confer with them until I reached the dim alley a few blocks down the street. A trash bin farther down the narrow space was baking in the summer heat, giving off a lovely bouquet of broiled kitchen scraps. I wrinkled my nose and glanced around to make sure no one human had followed me between the looming concrete walls.
A moment later, four figures solidified around me like smoke condensing into physical form.
“A hot guy’s phone number on a napkin—really?” Ruse teased, his hazel eyes twinkling beneath the fall of his rumpled chocolate-brown hair. “Or have you already gotten bored with the pickings here?” The incubus gave me his typical smirk, which cracked a dimple in his roguishly gorgeous face. I’d “picked” him a couple of times already, and I was happy to report that getting it on with a sex demon was everything you’d expect from the package and more.
Next to Ruse, Snap’s forehead had furrowed, barely putting a dent in the divine beauty that made him look like a youthful sun god. “The napkin was made up,” he protested in his bright voice, and turned his moss-green gaze on me. “It was made up, wasn’t it?”
I patted his slim arm. “A total fabrication. I have no phone numbers whatsoever, nor do I want any.”
The devourer made a pleased humming sound and stepped closer—not to touch me, but as if he simply wanted to soak up my presence. I’d also gotten it on with Snap not that long ago, in a tamer if no less satisfying fashion while he eased into the whole concept of physical desire. What could I say? I’d been busy lately… although with a whole lot more than getting busy, I promise.
Waking up Snap’s carnal awareness had also stirred up a possessive instinct I hadn’t counted on but couldn’t help finding kind of sweet. He might stand a full head taller than me, but he was about as frightening as a gamboling fawn. Of course, at this point I knew more about the feel of his body than why the others called him a devourer, which was still a mystery to me. Whatever his greatest power was, just the idea of it made him shudder in terror, so he hadn’t exactly been eager to chat about it.
As usual, the third member of my original trio was all business. “It didn’t appear as though you got close enough to make out anything of the inner facility, m’lady,” Thorn said somberly. The ruggedly handsome hulk of a man, a smidge taller even than Snap and filled out with muscles galore, had never met a subject he couldn’t approach with grave severity.
He could be plenty intimidating without even trying, although right now his imposing air was impaired by the little dragon squirming from one broad shoulder to the other, displacing Thorn’s long white-blond hair with little snuffles of discontentment. Pickle hadn’t spent much time around anyone other than me since I’d rescued him from a collector ages ago. It’d taken a lot of coaxing—and quite a bit of bacon—to warm the lesser shadowkind creature up to Thorn enough for him to let the warrior carry him into the shadows, out of mortal sight.