Eve of Darkness (24 page)

“Figures,” she muttered.

He set her down on the rug and scrubbed her down with a towel.

“You’re good at this baby-sitting stuff,” she said. “Do this often?”

The question was only partly teasing. She did wonder if he’d cared for another woman with such tenderness before.

“Only for tasty Asian babes.” He tossed the towel in the hamper.

She stepped back and eyed him. Long muscular legs, taut abdomen, beautifully delineated biceps, and a thick, weighty bulge in his drawers. She licked her lips. “Where’s that male-enhancement stuff?”

His arms crossed. “Excuse me?”

“Think it’ll work on me?”

Alec smiled. “You don’t have the necessary parts.”

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you ask your parts if they think my parts are necessary or not? They might disagree.”

“You’re barely standing.”

“I can lie down.”

He tossed her over his shoulder. She almost protested, then pushed his boxers down instead and admired his flexing buttocks. He swatted her ass. “Behave.”

“You like me naughty,” she said, tossing his earlier words back at him.

“I like you awake, too.”

Eve sighed. “Technicalities.”

Alec tossed her on the bed and she bounced lightly. Catching the edge of the blankets, he covered her and kissed the tip of her nose. “Good night, angel.”

“Where are you going?” She yawned.

“To bed.”

“I’ve got one of those.”

He tugged up his boxers. “You won’t get any sleep if I join you and you need the rest. We have a conference call with Raguel tomorrow.”

She snorted and curled into her pillow. “I’m taking tomorrow off.”

“No such thing.”

“Watch me.”

As he closed the door, she heard him chuckling.

 
“Smells awesome.”

As he fried bacon, Alec smiled at the sound of Eve’s voice. He glanced back her, finding her dressed in her red kimono robe and wearing a towel on her head. “There’s coffee in the pot.”

“Will I get a buzz off it?”

“Nope.”

“Good thing I like the taste of it, then.”

She padded barefoot to the coffeemaker, poured herself a cup, and moved over to one of the stools on the opposite side of the island. He’d set the newspaper there and she immediately spread it out and began reading.

“After breakfast,” he said, “we need to call Raguel.”

“I told you, I’m taking the day off.”

“Don’t be stubborn.” He set down the fork he was using to flip the bacon. “This is bigger than you and me now, angel.”

“Because we couldn’t smell them?”

“Or see their details. If there’s a new faction somewhere operating completely outside the rest of the system, every firm needs to know.”

Her lips pursed. “You can handle the talk with Gadara without me.”

“Talk to me.”

Eve looked up from the paper. She looked faultless, refreshed, and alert, but the lack of shadows under her eyes didn’t hide the fact that she was weary. “I need a break, Alec. Just for a few hours, at least.”

She let the paper rest on the counter. “I need some time to be normal. For my own sanity. Think about the last two weeks of my life, okay?”

“I understand.”

“Do you?” Her slender fingers drummed atop the newsprint-covered granite. “Then handle Gadara by yourself. There’s nothing I can add to what you’re going to tell him.”

“Fine.” He turned back to the bacon and tried to hide his volatile response to her withdrawal. All morning long, he’d been whistling with contentment. The concern over the tengu and the possible rippling effect their existence would have over every facet of the mark system gave him a feeling of anticipation. Surely a new firm would be needed, and he had the only known hands-on experience with this new threat.

But Eve was unhappy and possibly scared. She had a right to feel both of those emotions. And he was an asshole for thinking only of himself.

“You’re angry,” she said.

“Not with you.”

Silence followed. He continued browning the bacon and set to work on frying eggs. In another pan, he made pancakes. Behind him, he heard the rustle of flipping newspaper pages. It was a quiet domestic scene, but the intimacy he craved was lacking and sorely missed.

“There’s a story in the paper about a series of animal mutilations,” she murmured. “There’s speculation that they’re ritualistic.”

“Then they probably are.”

“I figured. And the fact that the latest animal—a Great Dane—was found in the back of a Gehenna Masonry pickup truck can’t be coincidence, because there’s no so such thing as coincidence, right?”

Alec turned off the gas burners and moved to the island. He read the story over her shoulder. The
Orange County Register
was covering the latest ultimate fight at the Upland Sports Arena. Lower down the page was the mention of a recent spate of dog mutilations and killings in the area. Two animal carcasses had been found in the arena parking lot just a week before—one of them had been found in the back of a Gehenna truck left in the lot overnight due to some construction the company was doing.

“I smell a rat,” he said.

“I smell breakfast,” she retorted, “and I’m hungry.”

He pressed his lips to the crown of her head. “Yes, Your Highness.”

Returning to the stove, Alec finished up the cooking, filled two plates, and brought them back to the island.

Eve looked at her overflowing plate. “You’re going to make me fat.”

He smiled. “Don’t eat what you don’t want.”

“I want all of it.”

“I’ll help you work it off.”

“How generous of you.”

“I’m here to serve.”

And that was the true crux of the matter, he realized as he stabbed at the yolk of one over-medium egg. He couldn’t serve God’s needs, his needs, and Eve’s needs at the same time. Something had to give.

He found himself wishing that she would learn to like the mark, so he could have it all. Then he thought of the night before and remembered the terror he had felt as he watched her being swept over the side of the roof. If he’d been capable of having a heart attack, he would have had one.

“I think I’m going to take Mrs. Basso to the movies today,” Eve pronounced before munching on a piece of crunchy bacon, “while you’re talking to Gadara. The theater is away from water and far from the tengu building. I need a price on my head before anyone else can take a crack at me, right? So it should be nice and uneventful.”

He swallowed hard. The thought of her going out alone scared the shit out of him. “I wish you wouldn’t.”

“I know.” She set her elbows on the counter and rested her chin on her hands. “If you think it’s really unsafe, I won’t leave. I’m not an idiot. But if you’re just worried, please let me go. I would really like to spend a couple of hours watching other people live average lives. I need the fantasy, if only for a little while.”

Alec looked out the window. It was a crystal-clear day. No rain, no mist. If she went straight to the movies and came right back, she should be fine. “Don’t use the john.”

“Okay. Now let’s talk about why I can’t go to the bathroom. That Nix is stalking me. I can’t figure out what his deal is. I swear I didn’t do anything to him. He flicked his snake’s tongue at me and I freaked. I said something offhand by complete mistake and it wounded him. He had to see that I was clueless and no threat to him. Why is he acting like I ran over his dog?”

“I don’t know.” Alec tapped the tines of his fork against his plate. “This is completely outside the norm. I’m going to talk to Raguel about it and see what he says. We can’t sit here waiting for the Nix to strike again. We have to find and vanquish him.”

“Sounds good to me.” Eve pushed back from the island. She pulled the towel off her head and draped it over the back of her stool. “I’m going to run next door and see if Mrs. Basso is up for a movie. She wanted to see the new Hugh Jackman flick, and there’s a matinee in an hour.”

Alec nodded and continued to eat his now tasteless food, his thoughts occupied by the Nix. He listened to the multiple locks disengage, then the door opening. Perhaps talking to Raguel alone was the best way to go. Separating himself from Eve might help to alter the image of them as an indivisible team. Their paths would eventually diverge; they had to for her sake. Then he would need to continue on his present course alone. That would be difficult if it was perceived that he was useful only in regards to his association with her.

Of course, part of him wondered how useful he could possibly be without her.

 
As Eve exited to the hallway, she left her front door open. Her gaze returned to Alec against her will, her stride faltering just past the threshold. The sight of him in her kitchen—completely at ease and half dressed in only T-shirt and boxers—was as bizarre as being attacked by the tengu. The incongruity of his presence in her life after a ten-year absence brought home a possibility she hadn’t considered before—perhaps his return and the marking weren’t the detours in her life. Perhaps the last ten years were.

It was a crazy thought, but how else could she explain why she wasn’t a shell-shocked wreck at this point? Or why this new skin she wore felt so much more comfortable than the one she’d been born with?

And her sexual advances toward Alec . . . she could say that was an expected aftereffect of a near-death experience or blame her super libido. But she’d be lying to herself, and as screwed up as the rest of her life was, she needed her head on straight more than ever.

Eve stopped before Mrs. Basso’s door and knocked. As she waited, she tightened the belt on her robe. She looked up and down the hallway, admiring the sunshine coming in through the window on the other side of her door. She spread her arms out and stretched, briefly wondering if she should have dressed before stepping out of her house. Luckily it was a workday and most of the residents weren’t home.

She rang the doorbell, knowing that a knock was sometimes difficult to hear from the rear bedrooms. Her mark began to tingle, then burn, as it did when she took the Lord’s name in vain. Frowning, she rubbed at it. Why the hell would the damn thing start bothering her now?

“Mrs. Basso?” she called out, just in case her neighbor wasn’t answering in avoidance of solicitors. Sales-people weren’t supposed to come into the building. Anyone caught putting up solicitations was quickly booted out, but often the easiest way to get rid of them was simply to ignore them.

Her mark throbbed something fierce. Aggravated energy pumped hard and fast through her veins, spreading outward from her arm until it inundated her body with restless anticipation. Eve’s nostrils flared, scents intensifying with startling immediacy. Her eyesight sharpened, magnifying minute details such as the scrapes left by keys around the dead-bolt lock.

Before she fully comprehended what she was doing, Eve crashed into Mrs. Basso’s door shoulder first. The door locks shattered through the jamb, spraying splinters through the air and filling the hallway with an echoing boom.

“Mrs. Basso!” Eve searched the living room with a sweeping glance.

The mark continued to pulse, pushing a steady stream of adrenaline through her body. Her super senses were functioning in high gear. The doors and windows were closed, but she heard the crashing of waves against the shore and the screams of seagulls as if they were directly in front of her.

“Eve.”

Alec. She pivoted. Met his gaze. He stood on the threshold, barefoot but sporting hastily donned jeans.

“The mark,” she explained. “It’s freaking me out.”

He entered. “Mrs. Basso?” he called out, his voice strong and steady.

“Maybe she’s at the restaurant?”

The sheer lack of emotion on his face said more than words could.

Mrs. Basso’s floor plan was the mirror image of Eve’s, but the decor made the homes entirely dissimilar. While Eve’s pad had a modern, minimalist style, the Basso residence was traditional Italian elegance. Faux painted walls and heavy leather furniture invited guests to linger in warmth and comfort. Yet Eve was chilled by the silence, broken only by the ticking of the beautiful clock on the living room wall.

She stared at its oversized numbers and wrought-iron scrollwork, marveling at the steadiness of her breathing and the rhythmic beating of her heat. Mentally she was panicking, but physically she could be visiting for espresso and tiramisu for all the stress her body felt. There was a brutal primitiveness to the combination of physical calm, coursing adrenaline, and super sensitivity. It was entirely inelegant . . . and seductive.

“Eve.”

Eve froze at the sound of her name, spoken softer than a whisper but heard louder than a gunshot.

“Mrs. Basso?” She moved down the hall, first tentatively, then faster.

“Eve.”

“Mrs. Basso!”

Bursting into the master bedroom at a run, Eve gasped in relief to find Mrs. Basso standing by the bed. Dressed in white slacks and a pale pink shirt, she looked lovely and ready for the day. Turning with a smile, Mrs. Basso eyed her from head to toe. “Cute pajamas.”