Shift of Time (A Rue Darrow Novel Book 1) (4 page)

Milo shook his head. The man was too darn stubborn. “No, you aren’t, and I said
close
. There’s a difference. Most of us, even having magic of our own, can be overcome. If an enemy is faster, stronger, has a more powerful spell ready and uses it, we’re toast. Not you. Even if you fall into the net of one, you can get out with your will.”

“My will?” I didn’t believe him but again thinking about Orin, I had shaken off the smell almost without meaning to. I hadn’t been certain it was a spell until now. The witch charm though. Even a hundred year old vampire couldn’t break that. “I know of at least one spell that would leave me weak.”

Milo’s eyes widened. “Really? Which one?”

I smirked. “Why would I tell you?”

He tapped a finger to his temple. “Smart! See? You’re perfect. But okay. You’re not ready, and I understand. I don’t want to push. Can I at least enjoy the knowledge that I’ve made a new friend?”

I rolled my eyes when he took my hand again. He would never stop.

“A friend,” I repeated with emphasis. “Sure.”

“Beautiful.”

Ignoring the compliment, I asked, “What is the item that was stolen?”

“I’m sorry. I can’t tell you that.”

“How was I supposed to find it if you don’t tell me what it is? Or is it the privilege I’d get by working for you?”

“No, I wouldn’t have told you then either. Remember, it’s the nose I’m interested in.” His gaze darkened. “Mostly the nose.”

“Feel free to stop flirting anytime, Milo. I’m taken.”

“Ian McClain?”

I said nothing.

“I told you. We make a habit of knowing who we’re living with, and it was reported to me when Ian brought you to New Orleans.”

“Then you already knew he and I are together.”

“I know he left not long after, and he hasn’t been seen since.”

If I had hoped Ian’s name and my assertion that I was involved would put him off, I was wrong. Not that I worried. I could take care of myself. Milo finished his meal and dug out cash to pay. While he searched his wallet for the correct bills, I marveled at the thick stash. The Fae didn’t worry about being mugged on a dark road by a human, supposing nonhumans weren’t muggers. Then again, there might be a few. After all, someone had hired the demons, and that screamed bad guy to me. Not to mention they had already stolen Milo’s cargo.

What could it be that he wanted me to find, and why not just tell me? Did he worry I would tell someone else, someone he couldn’t trust not to go after the treasure? That might be a possibility. As he had said, he wasn’t asking me to trust him, and it became apparent he wasn’t offering any either.

When the bill was paid, Milo stood and reached into his pocket a second time. He brought out a business card and handed it to me. “If you change your mind, please call me.”

I took the card. “I won’t.”

He grimaced and left the restaurant. While I watched him leave, I wondered if I should follow to make sure he made it home safely. Then I recalled I was not a tracker or a bodyguard. I needed to get home, too.

Out on the street, I glanced at the sky. Sunrise was two hours away. Perhaps one more sip for the night, and then I would turn in. Tomorrow, I was back on duty at the Rusty Ankle. Tracking sounded preferable.

O
n a rare occasion
, I walked along the dark street rather than move at my usual high speed. A prickling along my nape made me look over my shoulder, and I started at the two men on the opposite side of the street. Both wore black clothing from head to foot, and I could make out neither of their facial features. I knew without a doubt they were demons, but I figured why bother them if they weren’t trying to attack?

On the chance the demons weren’t following me and it was just my own paranoia, I took a turn down Chartres Street and cut across Jackson Square in front of the Cabildo museum. I considered jumping to the roof and using the highest point to spy over the street below—yeah, I discovered a little while ago I could jump really high—but instead, I continued walking. Just as I suspected, the demons kept up, turning where I did and keeping my pace.

I don’t mind admitting that the old me surfaced. In my head, I knew I could take them. I had the experience of the other day, and Milo had said they were imps, low on the hierarchy of such creatures. Logic said I could dispatch them in seconds, but one, I recalled the pain of my broken thumbs even though I wouldn’t repeat that mistake. Two, I was me, and as such I wasn’t used to violence. My personal experience said I could get hurt or killed even if the odds were low.

All these thoughts swirled in my head, and then it all changed in an instant. The darkness that was a part of me raised her head, and I stopped walking. With my hands curled into fists—thumbs out, thank you very much—I spun to face the men. They too had paused in their pursuit. A blink and I stood before the two men, the air stirring about us. To my great satisfaction, they cowered a bit before pulling themselves together.

Now that I stood closer, I tried to see their features better. I was aware that they were men with two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. Yet, for the life of me, I wouldn’t know if these two were among the same that had appeared a few nights ago and they had returned to our plane, or if they were two new ones. They even smelled exactly the same. Nothing putrid, mind you, but like cloves and fire maybe. Neither demon had a distinguishing scent.

My fear dissipated with my curiosity. “Why are you following me? Do you want to get sent back?”

Look at me, so bold. I’ve got chills!
Not really.

The demon on the left held up his hands as if in surrender. “Please, no. We aren’t going to hurt you.”

I raised my chin. “I know.”

The other demon ground his teeth and bared them, humanlike, not jagged as I had expected. “Forget about the shift of time.”

“The shift of time?” This was new information.

“Don’t play dumb, vampire,” the second demon growled.

The first demon grabbed his arm. “Don’t get her mad. If we fail…”

“If you fail, what?” I asked. “Who are you working for?”

Neither of them answered. I folded my arms before me and rocked on my heels as I had seen Orin do. “We’re trading information, aren’t we, boys? You tell me something, and I will share with you.”

“I don’t remember making that arrangement.” Again the one with the attitude problem. His buddy was making no headway with calming him, but I no longer cared. At that moment, I wanted him to push me. Demons should have no right to show themselves and harass people, least of all me.

“We’re making it now,” I told him. “What’s the shift of time?”

“Ask Milo Beuron. You’re tracking for him, aren’t you?”

“Wrong. So that’s what he’s looking for?”

No answer.

I figured I wouldn’t get more from them. They weren’t likely to explain what the shift of time was, but it was enough for now to know it was the stolen item.

I examined the one demon and then the other. They wore long-sleeved black shirts, black slacks, and black dress shoes. I suspected their socks and underwear were more of the same. “Here’s a tip. The south gets pretty hot even at night in the summer time. Consider lighter colors. Oh, wait, it’s probably scorching where you come from. Why don’t you go back?”

With those words, I sent them both into the next plane and scooted away upwind. A short while later, I arrived at work and spotted Pammie already behind the counter, wiping it down. Her gaze rose to mine for an instant and then skidded away again.

“Good evening, Pammie,” I said.

She didn’t so much as copy Almonester tonight with her usual grunt. Maybe I was wrong, but I had the feeling she didn’t like me. What was not to like? I’d taken quite a few of her customers and didn’t need to cast a spell to get them to open their wallets wider. So sue me.

I approached the bar, feeling a bit high on my hog after dealing justice to the demons, and climbed onto a stool in front of the spot where the female Fae worked. “I think we can be good friends, Pammie. What do you think? You’re Fae, right? You look just like Orin, and I happen to know all Fae don’t look alike. So are you related?”

She froze but didn’t look up. “I don’t have any interest in being your friend.”

“So is that a no on the brother and sister thing?”

She bared perfect white teeth. Seemed a lot of people in this city liked to sneer. “Orin and I look like we do because of spells.”

That took me by surprise. “You’re kidding.” I leaned forward to study her face. She reared back as if I had slapped her. “So Fae
aren’t
beautiful?”

Pammie flounced away and disappeared through the doorway into the storeroom. Orin walked in from the hall. “Stop teasing her, Rue. She’s not used to being around a vampire. Neither am I, but I accept you.”

“It seems like I’m the natural enemy of everybody. If they could, my feelings would be hurt.”

“You’re not an enemy. It’s just that your race is manipulative.”

“My race?” I repeated. “And yours isn’t?”

He grinned. “Touché. You’ll learn what divides us all as time goes on.”

I slid from the stool and stood up. “I don’t know how, because all the nonhumans I’ve met up until now, including my boyfriend, have been unwilling to give me any insight into anyone else. It’s frustrating.”

He began unpacking a box of scotch Pammie brought from the storage room. I abandoned the conversation. A knock on the front door brought me up short, and I strode over to it to let the customer know we weren’t open for business for another hour.

When I opened the door, I found a short, round woman, maybe early fifties, with curls as red as mine but obviously from a bottle. Her hands fluttered when she saw me, and the close-set brown eyes rounded. “Oh, you’re her, aren’t you? I’m so excited. Look at us. We could be twins.”

The woman patted her hair, grinning ear to ear. By now, I knew she was human. Her pulse raced, and she panted as if out of breath.

“What do you mean, I’m her? Ma’am, the bar isn’t open just yet.”

“That’s all right. You can come with me.”

I stilled, not even a strand of hair quivering. Maybe I looked like a viper about to strike, because she quailed and began to stutter.

“T-that sounded funny, didn’t it? I mean, you’re a tracker, and I wanted to hire you to tell me if my husband is c-cheating. I can pay you whatever your fee is.”

Here was another person who assumed I was in the tracking business. How would this human even know? Milo! Had he revealed the fact that I am a vampire? I would have a talk with him. If the Fae feared me, I would ingrain into him until he never forgot. Ian had told me above all else, never let our existence be known.

While I mentally worked myself up to controlling my glamour enough to wipe this woman’s memories without making her a blank slate, she chattered on and on. At some point, she must have realized I had stopped listening or wouldn’t take on the assignment.

“Oh, I forgot to mention, I used to be a donor for a very powerful vampire before someone
more
powerful did him in. Now, I’m a free agent.” The woman tapped her neck. “So, if you ever want to make an arrangement…”

I stepped back, but she caught the door before it shut, still smiling.

“You already knew about vampires?” I asked to be sure I understood her.

She waved a hand. “
Oui,
ever since I was a young woman. To tell the truth, I miss the privileges of being a donor, but meeting and marrying my husband made up for it. Until I started suspecting him of cheating. Please, won’t you help me, Rue?”

She even knew my name. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to come to my house and tell me if it’s true.”

“What am I a spirit medium?” I demanded. “I don’t see auras!”

Anger stirred me to utter this bit of nonsense, and annoyance because I felt I was being railroaded. This woman no doubt loved her husband. I had seen the hurt in her gaze even while she tried to speak matter-of-factly. Nevertheless, I felt stirred to want to help her. Maybe if I helped a human, I could retain something of what it was to
be
human.

I began again. “I’m new to this and not sure what I can do.”

“You’ll do great. Look around my place, find some clues, and then see where he goes while I’m at work for the final proof.”

I tried not to groan. “My shift is starting. If you can wait until later, I can zip by on my break.”

She squealed, making my ears ring. “Oh good. Well, if you can do it before eleven tonight that would be fine. He’s working late at a conference, and before you say it, I already verified. His company is hosting their annual business conference this week, and they often run late entertaining the out of state partners.”

I nodded. “All right. I’ll be by your house before eleven. Give me the address.” She did, and I bid her goodnight. When I turned around to the bar, I expected to be grilled by Orin and Pammie, but they were busy about their preparations for the night’s customers.
Robots,
I thought uncharitably, and joined them.

G
eorgia Villar was a strange duck
. Whatever “sisterhood” she had felt for me earlier must have evaporated by the time I arrived at her house in the Garden District. She had neglected to say her husband was successful in his business, if one were to go by the size of the house with its verandah running round most of the first and second floors, a generous front lawn, and black wrought-iron fencing.

Georgia was still as bouncy of nature as ever when she waved me through the gate from the front door, but in the two hours since I had first seen her, her hair color had changed. In truth, it felt like a relief. Instead of being faced with vibrant red, I was presented with chestnut. However, Georgia made up for the tamer hair color with a dress that enveloped her figure in vibrant colors across the rainbow. I had no idea how to take her.

When I reached the porch, I put a foot up on the stairs and felt an odd resistance. Another step and then another, and a burden weighed on my shoulders. Was the place cursed, for heaven’s sake? I peered around, expecting to spot a hex mark or some such on the outside wall.

Not until I got to the front door to follow Georgia inside did the weight turn into a full on barrier. That’s when it hit me. I stumbled back and rubbed my aching nose, frowning. Georgia continued on, chattering away. I straightened and folded my arms over my chest, waiting.

“Would you like some wine, Rue? My previous sponsor—” She’d been turning to face me as she spoke and finding me still outside, she exclaimed in alarm. “Oh no, what was I thinking? Rue, please come in.”

I stepped forward with caution this time, but the weight had already risen, and I passed the threshold into her house with no problem. The experience took me back to when I had first met Ian. He had called through my front door, asking me to invite him in. Not until I did so had he been able to enter. With this limitation, I began to wonder if vampires were at the top of the paranormal food chain. Then I dismissed the thought lest I get a big head. I had my suspicions it was already starting to swell.

Georgia led me into the tiny sitting room of her home. “Please have a seat. Would you like something to drink? I know vampires like to drink red wine.” She again tapped the side of her neck as she had done earlier. “Or you can have a sip here.”

I cringed. Just what was her aim? I recalled she had mentioned privileges of being the donor to a powerful vampire. Well, she would be in for a rude awakening when she learned that I had neither influence nor power.

“You shouldn’t go around offering your neck to every vampire you meet,” I snapped. “You have no idea how tempting that is, and some wouldn’t bother asking or making arrangements with you in the first place.”

Georgia clasped her hands. I had the feeling my lecture didn’t daunt her spirit for a second. “Thank you for worrying about me. I know you’re right.”

“And I’m not sure of what privileges you think you’ll have, but I don’t own anything I could share. You would do better finding someone else.”

She smiled. “Oh no, sweetheart. It’s not
money
I want.”

I blinked at her and then waved it away. “Never mind that because I’m not looking for a donor. Let’s get down to business. I’ll need to get back to the bar before long.”

She led me to the second floor of her home and opened a door to a bedroom. As soon as I laid eyes on the shades of pink on the bedspread and walls, the bed covered in stuffed animals, and a strong scent of perfume in the air that was identical to whatever Georgia wore, I had trouble believing any man lived here.

I stepped into the room, taking it all in. Even the framed pictures on the wall were of roses and gardens and waterfalls. “Do you two sleep separately?”

Georgia appeared confused. “No, of course not. Why do you say that?”

“No reason.”

She launched into a story about her husband’s background I had no interest in, so I didn’t pay attention to it. What was I supposed to be looking for, a unicorn out of place on the bed? I strode over to the bedside table and found a photo of Georgia and the man I assumed to be her husband. He appeared level-headed, middle aged, medium build, strong jaw. Not bad looking, I decided, but not an Adonis who might step out on Georgia.

“That’s my love,” she said over my shoulder. Her heartbeat pulsed against my eardrums, and I moved away from her.