A Tale of Two Goblins: A Paranormal Romance/ Urban Fantasy

  “You exist merely to plague me.” His voice was rough, like diamonds cutting glass.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I demanded. I didn’t have the time nor the energy for this crap. I had to get in and get out—find out where Quillan was and move on. The night might have been young but Sam’s battle wasn’t.

  “You…your outfit,” he started, giving me the once over again. “You try my will power not to take you right where you stand.”

  I glanced down at myself, taking in the black leather riding pants and boots I’d magicked for myself. I was wearing a tight black turtleneck underneath the black leather jacket. My outfit was utilitarian—meant to protect from road rash, should I take a fall off the bike. Granted my pants were snug but Bram’s reaction was a bit much.

  “Keep your distance, Bram,” I muttered and seated myself in one of his chairs. My hair had caught in the neck of my jacket so I pulled it free and allowed it to cascade around me in a flow of gold. Hmm, I was having a good hair night—maybe that was why Bram’s panties were all in a bunch.

  Bram leaned over me, resting his hands on either chair arm, still staring at me as if I were a walking, talking vat of blood.

  “The beauty of you, Dulcie Sweet, is that you have no notion, no knowledge of what you do to me. If you were any other woman, I would have had you by now…repeatedly.”

  “Humble much?” I asked with a frown. I wanted to take my jacket off because it was hot in Bram’s club, but after that little display, I doubted if it would be a wise decision.

  He laughed and as if to continue his completely bizarre actions, dropped to one knee before me, wedging himself between my legs. I immediately sat up straight, on complete alert, and reached into my waistband, fingering the Op 6…just in case. I watched Bram grasp my wrist and I was suddenly aware of how much larger he was than I was. My small wrist was nearly swallowed by his hand. He pushed the leather sleeve up, bringing my wrist to his face.

  “If you bite me, I’ll kill you,” I whispered and I meant it. I’d never been bitten by a vampire and I’d sworn I never would be. Playing dinner entree was not my idea of a good time.

  “I want to bite you, Sweet.” His voice was low and his fangs tickled the sensitive skin of my wrist as he ran them back and forth.

  As if death was of no consequence to him, he closed his eyes and inhaled just above the area where my veins were closest to the surface. I closed my fingers over the Op 6, wondering if I’d need to pull it free. I really didn’t want to shoot Bram…

  He opened his eyes and focused them on me. “One day, my Sweet, you will beg me to bite you. And I will bite you and swallow your blood as I push into you and listen to you cry out in pleasure.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Okay, Barbara Cartland, can we stop the sex talk and, instead, talk about why I’m here please?”

  He dropped my wrist but didn’t move out from between my thighs and I’m not sure why, but I allowed him to stay there. Maybe because I knew I was asking for information I shouldn’t have been.

  “Please enlighten me,” he said although his tone was anything but interested.

  I sighed, long and hard. It brought his attention to my face and when he realized I was less than thrilled with what was about to come out of my mouth, he was rapt, his attention mine.

  “I need to know where I can find Quillan,” I said in a small voice.

  Bram narrowed his eyes and stared at me for a long time. I stared back. He leaned into me until we were nose to nose.

  “Are you asking this as a Regulator?”

  I was asking for my own personal reasons, because I had to get my hands on some Gargoyle’s Mandrake. But, Bram didn’t need to know that. I swallowed. “No.”

  He licked his top lip and smiled. I swallowed harder. “It would not look good for me to be offering location tips about those involved in street potions to a Regulator.”

  I leaned closer to him and turned my head as I whispered in his ear. “I’m no longer a Regulator and I would never do anything to damage our…relationship. You can trust me, Bram.”

  His hands found my upper thighs and he squeezed them suggestively. “Can I trust you, Sweet?”

  “You once said my word was good,” I started and grabbed his hands before he got any other ideas.

  He pulled away and stood up, a deep chuckle echoing through him. When he faced me again, his eyes were wild. “It does bother me, Dulcie.”

  “What does?”

  “The fact that I covet you so. You pose a challenge, yes, but on the flip side, this constant hungering for you takes its toll. Sometimes I do wonder if it would be better if you did not exist.”

  “Are you threatening me?” I demanded, wondering if Bram was going to join my throng of enemies. I sincerely hoped he wouldn’t. Granted, I liked the fact that he was a bridge to the less than noble members of Splendor but beyond that, I actually did like Bram. He was….amusing.

  He laughed again. “Me? No.” He shook his head. “I would never harm you but your death by another’s hand, hmm….I do not know what I should think of it. Perhaps it would be a bit of a relief.”

  I stood up and frowned, figuring this errand had been a waste of time. It appeared Bram wasn’t in a forthcoming mood. I had to wonder if I’d interrupted his dinner. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  He walked to his desk and sat down, as if needing to put a buffer between us. I started for the door and just as I grasped the doorknob, his voice stopped me.

  “Why do you seek Quillan?”

  I didn’t turn around right away. “I need to ask him a question,” I said finally.

  He nodded and rocked back and forth. “I imagine it was quite a blow to learn your partner was deceiving you all these years?”

  I didn’t release the doorknob but turned to regard him, ignoring the pain that coursed through me at the mention of Quillan’s deceit. “Yes, it was.”

  “Some people thought perhaps you were in on the operation all along.” He didn’t stop rocking.

  I dropped my hold on the doorknob and faced him fully. “And what do you think, Bram? Do you think I was in on it?”

  He shrugged. “I do not care.”

  “Then why bring it up?”

  He stopped rocking and stood up, taking a few steps closer to me. “You were going to leave and I wanted to prohibit you.”

  I shook my head. “Bram, I really don’t have time to play games with you. People’s lives depend on you giving me the information I need.”

  “I thought you said this was not involving the ANC?”

  I gulped. “It’s not.”

  He materialized directly in front of me, so close I could feel the cold steel of his belt buckle against my stomach. I couldn’t help my gasp. I took a step back until the door pre-empted me from further escape. My heartbeat was pounding. “I hate it when you do that,” I whispered.

  He grabbed my jacket and slid it off my shoulders.

  “What are you doing?” I insisted, growing more and more unnerved.

  He smiled down at me and it was the smile of a shark. “There is too much heat radiating off you, Sweet. You must be suffocating under all that leather.”

  I had been. Between the anxiety pounding through me and the temperature in Bram’s office, the heat had been squelching. He pulled the jacket off me and carefully laid it on the chair. I glanced down at myself and realized the material of my turtleneck was slightly see-through. I could see the outline of my black bra. I glanced up at Bram and found his gaze fastened on my breasts.

  “I’m up here,” I snorted.

  He didn’t look up from my breasts. “I do appreciate a woman with an ample bust line.”

  “Are you going to help me or aren’t you?”

  “Help can come in many forms, Sweet,” he said, finally returning his eyes to mine.

  “Tell me where I can find Quillan.”

  “Why must you speak with Quillan, Sweet?”

  “It’s persona
l.”

  Bram regarded me curiously. “Tell me, Dulcie, has Quillan ever sampled your body? Does he know what your face looks like when in complete bliss?”

  I pushed away from him. I’d been hanging on his every word, hoping he was going to help me, hoping this little act would be short lived. Apparently I’d been stupid. “Holy Hades, Bram, what the hell is wrong with you? Do you need to feed or what?”

  “Answer the question,” he ordered. “Does Quillan know what it means to taste you?”

  I counted to three in my head. No, I didn’t have time to play cat and mouse games but it was easier to attract flies with honey than vinegar and in this case, it was easier to get Bram to give me the information I wanted if I played his sex games.

  “No, he doesn’t.”

  Bram grinned, his fangs cresting his lower lip. “But you were attracted to him, no?”

  I gulped down an acid response. “Yes.”

  “And have you imagined what it would feel like to take him into your body?”

  I forced myself to hold his gaze, and not to look away. “Yes.”

  He chuckled without mirth. “I do enjoy playing with you, Dulcie. Your one flaw is your inability to tell anything other than the truth.”

  “Those are your words, not mine.”

  “Tell me, have you imagined what my lips would feel like against your skin? Have you imagined making love to me, Dulcie?”

  It was my turn to laugh. “Game’s up, Bram. You’ve exhausted your interrogation for the night. Now it’s my turn.”

  He sighed and backed away from me, returning to his desk. “I have heard your Quillan has been spending time with a…rough crowd. I would not advise you to seek him out alone.”

  “So, what, you’d be willing to go with me?”

  He was quiet for a moment before nodding. “I would.”

  “Thanks but you’d spoil my cover.”

  “It is too dangerous for you to go alone,” Bram said, his former playfulness now absent from his voice.

  “Weren’t you just saying you wanted me dead?”

  He shook his head. “You always turn my words against me, Sweet.”

  “Where can I find Quillan, Bram?” I demanded.

  “Sanctity. The Devil’s Harlot.”

  “What the hell is that?”

  Bram smiled and revealed the fact that his canines were still in full effect. “A strip club, Sweet.”

  I shook my head. “Figures.”

  “You will be taking your life into your hands,” Bram continued. “There are wards reinforcing the building. You will not be able to use magic to change your appearance and I daresay most there would recognize you as an ANC Regulator.”

  I nodded; I’d figured such would be the case. I picked up my long blond locks and sighed as I thought of dying them. “Guess I’ll have to change my appearance the old fashioned way then.”

  “I would still escort you. Perhaps my being there would attract attention away from you.”

  “If anything, you’d attract more attention. I can do this alone.” I paused for a second or two as I thought of riding the Suzuki clad only in some slutty getup. “But, I could use a lift.”

  Bram threw his head back and laughed heartily. “Of course you could, Sweet, of course.”

  “Is that a yes?” I asked, feeling exhaustion in the very depths of my soul.

  “Yes, I will gladly drive you.” He eyed me for a few seconds, a smile still gracing his handsome face. “When we arrive, do not enter through the front door. If you walk around to the back of the establishment, you will see a small door off to the side. Knock twice and when the bouncer opens it, tell him you are there as a gift for Quillan. Tell him I sent you.”

  I eyed him for a second or two while I tried to make sense of the statement. “So, I’m going as a whore then?”

  Bram smiled and his eyes twinkled. “When you play with the big boys, you must play big boy games, Dulcie Sweet.”

  “Wonderful,” I grumbled. “Anything else?”

  “It is the only way you will make it into the club. And do be careful not to blow your cover; I do not want this to come back and bite me in the ass.”

  “I’ll do my best.” I turned the doorknob and opened the door before glancing back at him. “Can you pick me up in about two hours?”

  He steepled his fingers and regarded me with amusement. “I will be there with bells on.”

  Then I walked out and closed the door behind me.

  Eight

  After leaving Bram’s, I visited the local drug store and purchased several boxes of hair dye and the wildest makeup I could get my hands on. It had been painful but I dyed my naturally honey golden hair licorice black. I dyed it three times before the color actually took and didn’t look purple. I also cut off four inches and curled it into tight sausage curls until I looked like a dark-haired version of Sideshow Bob.

  As to my makeup…sigh. I definitely looked like a skank with my bright red lips, caked on liquid foundation and lively pink blush. I loaded my eyes with glitter, black eyeliner, silver eye shadow and more glitter. Then, just for the hell of it, I gave myself a mole above my lip with my brown eyeliner pencil. I glanced at the mirror and didn’t know what to think. I was definitely not me but was it enough to throw everyone else off? My springy hair pretty much obscured my face so hopefully that would be enough.

  I raided my closet until I located the shortest skirt I owned but it wasn’t short enough so I attacked it with scissors until it just kissed my upper thighs. Remembering Angela’s getup from No Regrets, I decided to stick with a black bra. Unfortunately, there was no room for my Op 6 but knowing the scumbags I’d soon be interacting with, they’d search me anyway. And finding a weapon would definitely blow my cover.

  A knock on the door heralded Bram’s arrival and Blue’s barking eclipsed the otherwise quiet evening.

  “Shhh, Blue, be quiet!” I yelled as I pushed my feet into my knee-high black boots and gave myself another once over before I headed for the door. I grabbed the dog’s collar and pulled open the door, excited to see Bram’s reaction to the new me.

  He didn’t say anything but stared at me for a few seconds. And during those few seconds, Blue growled and barked at him as if daring Bram to enter his house.

  “Well?” I demanded, wondering if his silence was good or bad.

  Bram brought his hand to his mouth and tapped his fingers against his plump lips while he continued to ponder me as if I defied earthly laws. “You are you but you are not you,” he said finally.

  “Astute,” I retorted, suddenly realizing I was quoting Knight. Speaking of the devil, I had to make this little errand quick because I was due at the hospital in a few hours to play victim-sitter to Jenny and Sam.

  “I do not know what to make of your appearance, Sweet.” Bram reached out and grasped a tendril of my hair, rubbing it between his fingers and Blue lunged for him, nearly yanking my arms out of their sockets. I finally settled the dog down and brought my attention back to Bram who regarded the dog dismissively before returning his attention to me. “I do miss your golden locks.”

  “Who cares about my hair, Bram?” I started. “Is my getup good enough?” I suddenly felt like a sheep with a cheap lion costume who was about to enter the lion’s den. “Would you know I was me?”

  Bram stepped inside and I closed the door behind him, struggling to drag Blue to the backyard, where I forced him to stay. When I returned, Bram grabbed my arm, and rotated me like a ballerina. “Perhaps I am the wrong person to ask since I have every line of your face, every angle of your body permanently etched in my memory.”

  I shook my head. Bram was getting good but I wasn’t that impressed. I’d bet if I closed my eyes and asked him what color they were, he wouldn’t have a clue. “What are you, a poet now?” I asked facetiously.

  “I do not know that your disguise is strong enough, Dulcie,” he said warily, apparently ignoring my slight. “And if it is not, I will be sending you to your deat
h.”

  “Which would be a relief to you,” I finished for him with a smile and pushed him toward the front door. He cleared his throat, apparently not appreciating being pushed around and stepped onto the concrete path outside. I pulled the door closed behind me and started for his black Porsche Carrera.

  “I should never have mentioned those words to you, Sweet. I do take them back,” he said and opened the passenger door for me. I seated myself, noticing my skirt was doing a very poor job of covering my thighs fully so I parked my hands in my lap.

  “You can’t take them back,” I said and watched him walk to the drivers’ side. Bram was a big guy and the Porsche seemed entirely too small for him.

  He slipped into his seat, closed the door and turned the car on; the Carrera literally purred. I’d never been in a Porsche before and was lapping it up. I didn’t consider myself a car person (other than my love for the Wrangler) but I couldn’t help but respect the beautiful machine I was sitting in.

  “Nice wheels,” I said appreciatively, glancing around the plush, black leather interior and shiny dashboard.

  “Thank you, Sweet.”

  It took us thirty minutes to reach Sanctity and Bram was surprisingly and uncharacteristically quiet the entire way. When we pulled into a shabby looking parking lot, complete with weeds sprouting up through the broken concrete, he guided the Carrera into a spot as far as was possible from the decrepit building standing in the middle of the lot. He turned the car off and faced me.

  “Do you recall what I told you?” he asked.

  I nodded, feeling like a little girl on her first day of school. Course, in my case, this was stripper school. “Yeah, go to the back entrance and tell Bubba the Bouncer that I’m a gift for Quill from you.” Bram laughed at “Bubba the Bouncer.”

  “Anything else?” I finished.

  He eyed me as if still trying to decide whether I could pull off my stunt and dupe a room full of thugs who would probably kill me if they knew who I truly was.

  “I will give you thirty minutes. If you are not out before then, I will come in for you.”