Chapter 18

The next two days passed in a blur of activity. Cleaning and sorting the offices was draining, and we returned to Old Town exhausted each night, eager for supper and bed. The hunters made flying visits, busy with freelance work that took them outside of Dracul territory, but they were always a phone call or Raven away.

According to Merry, Pollux, our mansion Raven, had added them to his carrier list and so would be able to find them easily. I still wasn’t sure how the heck that worked, but whatever. Still, there was no denying that I missed their presence…well, namely Ordell’s easy smile and the way he made me feel. And I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t allowed my mind to conjure images of Hemlock half naked and on his knees, moon-kissed profile on display. Yeah, it was probably a good idea that they were absent a lot.

But the one person I would have liked to have time away from invaded my dreams nightly. Ezekiel was forever hovering in my subconscious thoughts as evidenced by the last two nights, when I’d tumbled into dreams, trapped in the corridors of his spooky-ass castle while he stalked me through the halls in a twisted game of cat and mouse.

He caught me both times, much to my annoyance, then touched me, much to my disgust…Okay, so maybe not disgust. Dream me had liked it. Dream me was a twisted, depraved bitch, and the Order needed to figure out a way to let us be blessed and not have to give up sex because this pent-up frustration was going to get me in trouble.

But two visits to the chapel, sitting beneath the wings with a candle burning bright, had helped me to realize that maybe this wasn’t about sexual frustration. I was threatened by Ezekiel. Not just by the monster that lived beneath his skin, but by this ability to elicit…feelings. My subconscious mind was helping me out by repeatedly putting me in enticing situations to get me to purge those emotions and desensitize me so that I could resist him during waking hours, like when I next saw him, like today.

“Orina?” Merry held up a box. “You want to go through this one?”

Late afternoon sun poked fingers through the blinds covering the front windows and lit up the dust motes dancing in the air just above the checked floor. Clean now that I’d given it a good mopping.

Merry blew her bangs out of her eyes and sniffed the air. “It smells so clean in here now.”

“Right?” Lemon zest, my favorite cleaning scent.

“We’ll need to give the filing room a blitz once we’ve sorted all the files. I saw spiders, and they didn’t scuttle off to hide.” She shuddered. “So bold.”

We’d been going through files steadily for the last three hours, and I was beginning to suspect that the filing room was an endless pit that magically produced more and more boxes.

I took the box with a sigh. “How many more?”

She shrugged. “Too many. But at least all the crap is gone.”

True. The haulage had arrived that morning and worked fast, loading up three vans. The building was now clear and much more spacious than we’d first assumed. I’d hired a cleaner to come in tomorrow to give it a proper once-over.

It would be time for us to head back to Old Town soon because although the Order wasn’t bound by curfew, we were preferred to be home by supper. The Sangualex were most active at night, and there was little need for us. Besides, I wanted to touch base with Ordell and Hemlock before the Exciatio and go over a game plan should Ezekiel try anything funny.

I carried the box into our shared office and began to unpack it. Files, whoop-de-do. But wait…what was that wrapped in a plastic bag? I drew it out, bulky and hard as tin. A teapot? It was covered in grime, the pattern beneath undecipherable. What was it doing in a box of files? Was it related to a case? Wait…was that blood residue on it?

“Orina?” Padma appeared in the doorway. Her forehead was streaked with dirt, and her usually neatly pinned bun had let loose several curly tendrils that framed her face, softening her stern features. “Don’t you need to pick up your dress?”

“Edwin sent a Raven this morning…” I turned the teapot over in my hands, smoothing out the plastic covering to get a better look. “Got one back before we left…” Was that an inscription on the base? “Agatha said she’d drop it off at the chapter house before sundown…” I set the teapot down. “I need a testing kit.”

“What?”

“I think this is blood.” I tapped the teapot. “I want to take samples of it and the grime on it too.”

She wandered over, tucking the errant strands of hair behind her ears, and held out her hand for the teapot.

I gripped it tighter, pulling it toward my chest instinctively, and her eyebrow shot up. “It’s delicate. I got it.”

“O-kay. I can order in some kits. Should be here in a couple of days.”

“Great.” I rummaged among the files. “One of these should relate to the item.”

Padma’s head came up, her nostrils flaring slightly. “Sun’s set.”

I glanced at the clock on the wall, the only indication of time in this room as there were no windows.

“How can you know that?”

She blinked sharply. “I have an insanely accurate body clock.”

Things between us seemed to be smoothing out the past two days. Working together on getting the offices operational was a great bonding experience for our small team, and I was itching to ask her about the other night when I’d overheard her with Edwin in the corridor. Where did she go in the evenings after curfew?

I could ask, but it would be better if she volunteered the information. I’d wait a little longer in the hope that would happen.

“Well, look at this.” The counter bell rang. “A fucking bell.” I’d only heard that voice once before, but I recognized it as Gunther from the Sangualex offices.

I joined Padma in reception where Gunther stood, arms crossed, surveying our handiwork. With the floors cleaned, the windows washed, and a fresh coat of paint on the framework—courtesy of Edwin—the space was beginning to take shape, almost ready to open to the public.

“You think a little lemon polish and paint will bring you clients?” Gunther sneered. “No one will come to you for help when they have the Sangualex.”

Clients? Alarm bells went off in my head. “Why would you call people in need clients? We’re a public service.”

He looked momentarily thrown, like a rabbit with its paw in wolves’ territory. “I meant people.”

“Did you?” Edwin asked, stepping closer, undaunted by the other man’s size. “Did you really?”

“You’re wasting your time,” Gunther said quickly. “We have the manpower and the resources to get any job done.”

“Yeah?” Merry challenged. “Is that why we have a gazillion boxes of unsolved cases in our filing room?”

He snorted. “Those are Order office cases, always have been. Not our problem that you couldn’t resolve them.”

“Bullshit!” Padma said. “These offices are three years old, and the Sangualex have had them ever since they were acquired for the Order. Before that we worked from the HQ offices, the ones you’ve taken over.”

“Yeah, well, they must have been your unsolved cases from back then.”

“Some of them are,” Merry admitted. “About five percent so far. The rest have Sangualex seals on them.”

He sniffed and raised his chin. “Anyone can forge a seal.”

Oh my God, the man was an asshole. “Get out.”

“What?” He seemed genuinely thrown, as if no one had ever told him to get out of anywhere before.

Good, I’d be the first.

I crossed my arms, mimicking his stance. “I said. Get. Out.”

He took a menacing step toward me, and Edwin moved to block him. “You heard her. Get the fuck out before I throw you out.”

Edwin was younger and not a big guy, but in that moment, there was a palpable air of menace to him that I’d never seen before.

Go Edwin!

Gunther’s gaze dropped to him, a kaleidoscope of emotions passing across his features as he considered his next move.

Make the right choice, dude…

He exhaled and dropped his arms, backing toward the exit. “Whatever. You’re not worth it. None of you are. Play law enforcement if you want. I don’t give a fuck.”

He stormed out, slamming the door behind him like an overgrown, petulant child.

“Well…” Merry said.

“What an asshole,” Padma said.

“Yeah, with asshole breath,” Edwin added.

Merry frowned. “His breath smelled like berry blossom?”

We all looked across at her in confusion. “Huh?”

“The bottom hole…” She tilted her head, matching our confusion. “It smells like berry blossom…”

“Of course half-blood fae asses smell like flowers,” Padma drawled.

“What?” Merry followed us back into the offices. “What do you mean? What do human bottom holes smell like?”

“Shit,” Edwin said. “They smell like shit.”

“Popcorn?” Merry asked.

Oh boy…

Merry broughtin another box and set it on her desk across from me. Now that the issue of how human bottoms differed in scent to fae bottoms had been resolved, we worked in companionable silence, sifting through files and adding the details to the computerized database that Edwin had hooked up yesterday.

Edwin brought in coffee from a place down the road, some tasteless weak crap that left a residue of yuck on my tongue, and the next hour and a half passed quickly and uneventfully. I managed to add three files to our new system, none related to the teapot, before it was time to leave.

We piled into reception, tugging on jackets when the bell above the main doors tinkled and several sets of boots clomped across the checked floor.

Padma tensed beside me, and Edwin stepped forward, hand on the hilt of his blade. No one had come through the main doors since we’d taken over. Even Gunther had used the basement access.

Atlas and two other men entered reception a moment later, but a closer inspection told me the other two men weren’t human. The taller of the three drew my attention, not because of his height, or because of how his impeccably tailored suit fit his athletic frame, or the way the black turtleneck was the perfect pairing for it, and not because of the silver ribbon that ran through his ebony hair, but because of the aura he gave off…one I’d felt only once before with Ezekiel—raw power. This guy was a predator caged in designer wear. His rich sable eyes took us all in. Assessing. Calculating.

Atlas cleared his throat. “Miss Lighthart, meet Kaster Black.”

The suited dude inclined his head. Of course, it was him. The head fangster.

It made sense to be on good terms with the head of one of the largest Sangualex departments, so I composed my face into an expression of polite inquiry. “What can we do for you, Mr. Black?”

He looked me over like a butcher would look over a prime cut of meat deciding on which way best to carve it. I suppressed a shudder, waiting for him to answer.

Atlas answered for him. “We have a situation, and we need your assistance.”

“Oh?”

“One of our officers has been taken hostage by a ghoul in Lakeview Cemetery. We need you to retrieve him.”

A fetch a bone job? Is this what they thought we were for? Of course they did. But fuck that. “We don’t work for you. Go fetch your own operative.”

Kaster slow-blinked, seemingly unfazed by my words and tone, but Atlas winced, and when he next spoke, his tone was clipped with urgency.

“Mr. Black wouldn’t be here if this wasn’t of the upmost importance.”

I didn’t like this. The way Atlas was being used as a mouthpiece. “If Mr. Black wants our help, how about he asks us himself?”

I crossed the room toward the trio. Atlas and the other guy made to step forward to block me, but Kaster raised a hand, and they stopped.

I stood in front of Kaster, looking up at his imposing features. “Well?”

His gaze flicked to Atlas, who nodded, and Kaster reached out and touched his temple. Atlas’s irises went white, and when he spoke, the voice that emerged was not his.

“Hello, Miss Lighthart. My name is Kaster Black.” The voice was smooth like bourbon on the rocks and equally as heady. “As I’m sure you’re aware, I’m head of operations at Sangualex Sector 9. One of my officers has been taken hostage by a ghoul, and I require your assistance in his retrieval.”

Okay, this was freaky as fuck, but like hell would I bat an eyelid. “Why can’t your other officers go get him?”

“An uncommonly known fact, and one which I would prefer stay that way, is that a ghoul bite can prove fatal to most vampires.”

“Yeah, ghoul bites can prove fatal to humans too. Blood loss kills. But you already know that.” Damn, it was difficult not to look at Atlas when speaking to Black, considering the voice was coming out of his mouth, but I kept my attention on his boss. “I assume this bite acts as more of a toxin to your kind?”

“You assume correctly,” he said. “Now, will you help me?”

Help…he asked for help. Nicely, in fact.

But helping him meant delaying my return to Old Town, which meant I’d have less time with Ordell and Hemlock to strategize our approach to the Exciatio. Still, getting on Kaster’s good side could take us a long way toward building the Order’s influence back up.

I’d make time as long as the team was on board.

Padma’s mouth was pressed in a thin line, but she gave me a curt nod, and the others followed suit.

Looked like I had a full house. “Okay, Mr. Black, we’ll help you. But we’d like something in return.”

A whisper of a smile ghosted across his lips. “Go on…”

“Access to your electronic case database for cross-reference. You can have access to ours in return.” He dropped a nod. “And we need autonomy to do our job without members of your office dropping in to goad us.”

His eyebrow quirked up at that one. “Anything else?”

Fuck it. “A coffee machine. An expensive one.”

The other vampire with them spoke for the first time. “This is bullshit. We don’t have to negotiate with you. This is our territory, and we?—”

“Quiet, Wayne,” Kaster snapped via Atlas. “We accept your terms, Miss Lighthart, but only if our operative is returned to us unharmed.”

“How long has he been held hostage?”

Kaster fixed his gaze on the seething vamp.

“Two hours,” Wayne bit out.

A lot could have happened in two hours, stuff that wasn’t our responsibility. “He could already be bitten.”

“True…” Kaster conceded. “Wayne will go with you and make sure he isn’t bitten when you get there. After that, it’s your responsibility to make sure he remains…unbitten.”

Wayne made a choked-up sound of indignation, but Kaster silenced him with a glare so frosty that even I felt the chill.

That frost melted somewhat when he returned his attention to me. “You have a deal, Miss Lighthart.”

Hmmm, not totally unreasonable, then. Maybe I could work with Mr. Black after all.

I beamed up at him. “Please, call me Orina.”