Two Lines

  With a grateful smile, Eavan took the two glasses of whiskey when the bartender returned. She upended the triple and left the glass behind. It was a start. The whiskey was a comforting narcotic, numbing her senses enough to help block the cravings a little.

  For the next two hours, they pushed through the crowd, pausing at each of the bars rather than running a tab, so as not to alarm any of the bartenders with how much she was consuming. Not enough for a glaistig, but far more than a real mortal could drink safely. Even still, Eavan was one pulsing nerve after pressing too close to mortals, all but stoned on the pheromones in the club.

  Another hour passed. Daniel was nowhere to be found. She could feel him nearby several times, close enough to set her body on edge, but when she turned he was not near enough to find.

  What game is he playing?

  “Daniel’s not here.” Muriel yelled the words. They’d just made another circuit of the main dance floor.

  He was, but the only way for Eavan to know that was through some creepy affinity that Eavan wasn’t about to admit to Muriel. It was stronger now, a compulsion to seek him. Is this how the zombie girls feel? She was sure she hadn’t ingested any of his drugs, but she felt called to him. It didn’t make sense.

  She slammed the rest of her latest glass of whiskey, and then took Muriel’s out of her hand and downed it, too.

  Muriel led the way to the stairs. “Top bar,” she mouthed.

  Eavan nodded and followed. At the top, Muriel pushed open the heavy door. They went into the lavish room, and the door fell closed with a thud, sealing out most of the noise. It wasn’t silent, but the top floor bar was designed to make conversation possible.

  “Oh shit,” Eavan whispered. Cillian was standing at the bar, looking far from happy.

  Muriel put her back to him. “Give me rules, Evvie. Are you okay?”

  “I am.” Eavan was able to look away from him. “I’ve had a half a fifth already. Everything is sleeping now.”

  Muriel smiled at Cillian as he came up beside her. “How’s the head?”

  “I’m fine.” Cillian scowled, but to his credit he didn’t do anything else.

  Muriel gave him a quick once-over. “I know.”

  His scowl deepened, so Eavan stepped closer and told Muriel.

  “Should I stay?” Muriel asked.

  Eavan shook her head. “I’m good…because of you. Again.”

  With a wicked grin, Muriel brushed a quick kiss over Eavan’s lips. “Be safe, Ev.”

  Once she was gone, Eavan turned to face Cillian. “Are you okay? Really?”

  He closed his eyes like he was trying to control the temper that was playing in the edges of his expression. “About the blueballs? Yes. About your girlfriend knocking me out? I guess. About you running out so I can’t do my fucking job? No, not so much.”

  “I’m sorry,” she told him yet again.

  “For which part?”

  “Everything but the running out,” she admitted with a small smile. In the space between words, she paused. Her skin was crawling: Daniel was near. Perhaps he’d stayed away only because Muriel was in the bar.

  Cillian took Eavan’s elbow and led her to a table toward the back of the room. “Are you on something, Eavan?”

  “Like drugs? Me?” She felt her mouth curving into a smile at the thought.

  If he knew the truth, what would he think?

  The cocktail waitress, thankfully, chose that moment to stop at the table. Cillian waited while Eavan ordered another drink. Through a tinted window they could see the main dance floor. In the middle of the floor, surrounded by guards, Daniel stood. He stared up as if he could see her through the darkened glass.

  Eavan stood and stepped closer to the window.

  In the crowd below, Daniel waited. Cuddled into his arms was a very malleable young woman. Daniel kept her upright. He kissed her forehead and then looked up at Eavan and mouthed, “I’ll let her go if”—he stopped a group of women, gave the girl over to their care, and then looked back up at Eavan—“you come see me soon, Eve.”

  Cillian came to stand beside her; he peered into the crowd below. “Are you looking for someone? A dealer? Brennan again? If your family is trying to protect you because you’re mixed up in something…”

  She walked away from the window. Daniel was gone. It wasn’t a trap, but a negotiation. What do I do now? She couldn’t chase after him; the idea of seeing him in this state was sheer foolishness. She couldn’t take Cillian, either…or leave him behind. Rage started to build inside her. She was a glaistig, not some child to be toyed with and broken. Daniel had no clue who he was taunting.

  Eavan watched the mortals of the dance floor. It looked so normal. That’s the sort of life she’d used to dream of having; it was the life she thought she could have one day. Nyx had seemed to be giving her a little more freedom. Everything seemed to be going well—until Nyx hired Cillian. Until Daniel.

  She’s been watching me the whole time.

  There was no normal, only degrees of beautiful lies.

  Eavan knew the answer, but she asked all the same: “Did my cousin hire you because of Daniel?”

  Cillian didn’t reply or flinch, but his silence was answer enough for her.

  Eavan held down “1” on her mobile and said, “Grandmother.”

  Nyx didn’t bother with greetings at this hour. “Are you injured?”

  “No.” Eavan watched Cillian as she spoke. “How long have you known?”

  “Long enough to see that you were too far gone,” Nyx said. “I don’t like Brennan. Not for you or for anyone. Especially not as your first.”

  “You know what he’s doing?” Eavan asked, still watching Cillian.

  “Of course I do.” Nyx sighed. “That’s not your business though, Evvie. Brennan is trouble. The powder he uses…it’s really not good for our kind. It works on some of us, too.”

  Eavan looked away then. She’d been a fool to think she could hide anything from her matriarch, and in that instant, she had to wonder if she truly could do anything beyond Nyx’s control. “This doesn’t change the other thing. I’m done with Daniel because I’m not able to—”

  “Ask your Cillian what his real job is,” Nyx interrupted.

  Eavan looked up and caught Cillian’s gaze. “What do you do for real?”

  “I’m your bodyguard.”

  On the other end of the phone, Nyx made a rude sound. “Tell him to tell you the rest.”

  “Nyx wants me to know,” she told him. “She said…”

  Cillian held out his hand for the phone. Silently, she released it.

  He held it up to his ear, listened for a moment, and then scowled and hung up. Quietly, he said, “Let’s take a walk.”

  9

  Cillian wasn’t sure what he hated more, the fact that he had to tell Eavan that he was with the C.D.A. or the fact that he seemed to have picked up a second supervisor. He wanted to tell Nyx to piss off, but his superiors would be anything but pleased if he lost his “anonymous” source so soon—plus that whole threat business of Nyx’s echoed in his mind.

  Eavan was silent by his side as they walked down the street toward a tiny park that was reasonably well-lit. He stopped at a small cluster of unoccupied benches. It was late enough that they had a bit of privacy.

  “I’m here investigating him,” Cillian told her. “Your cousin offered me a wealth of information on his activities, among other things, in exchange for protecting you.”

  Eavan laughed, a bitter sound that made him want to comfort her. She sat down beside him. “Threats, sex, or money?”

  He didn’t pretend to be shocked. “Not sex.”

  “With her at least.”

  “With any of them,” Cillian corrected.

  Eavan was silent for a moment. “She hired you in the hopes that I’d sleep with you. It’s an obsession of hers.”

  “Excuse me?” He angled his body so he was facing her. Of all the things he’d been prepared to hear, that wasn?
??t anywhere on the list. “She hired me because she knew you were spending time with Brennan, and he’s bad news.”

  “He is.” Eavan took a breath. “But Nyx could’ve simply broken a few of my bones if all she wanted was to keep me away from Daniel.”

  “She could’ve”—Cillian lowered his voice as a small group of people walked by—“broken your bones. You say that like it’s an everyday event.”

  “Not these days, but…” Eavan shrugged. “Nyx is in charge. I’m guessing you already know on some level how terrible she is, else we wouldn’t be having this conversation. She picked you for reasons that aren’t about guarding me from Daniel. She picked you for me to have sex with.”

  “Does she pick a lot of people for you to sleep with?” He tried to keep his voice even, but the idea that his family had been threatened, his life endangered, his career toyed with, and his peace of mind completely upended over sex was infuriating. It isn’t Eavan’s fault, he reminded himself. She’d been adamant that she did not want him around.

  Eavan blushed. “No, you’re supposed to be the first.”

  “Well that’s something, at—” He stopped mid-sarcasm. “The first first…like…”

  “Yes.” She looked about as comfortable as he felt. “The very first. My virginity is a matter of family irritation.”

  “Your family is concerned over your being a virgin.” He said the words slowly. “So you were dating a drug dealer and your cousin hired me to have sex with you? Is that what earlier was…Never mind.”

  “No, earlier was about my wanting you. It was a mistake. A pleasurable one but a mistake nonetheless…and I wasn’t dating Daniel.” Eavan smiled regretfully. “I know it all seems a bit odd.”

  “You think?”

  They sat there for a moment while Cillian tried to figure out what to say. On the phone, Nyx had been very clear in her orders to be “completely honest” with Eavan and then report to the house to speak with her. Screw it. He was already so far out of his comfort zone that he wasn’t sure he’d be seeing level ground again. “Can I ask you what you are?”

  “What I am?” she repeated.

  “I’ve met your family…and now this. You’re not quite like most humans, right?”

  “I can see where you’d get that. I’m human, mostly,” she hedged. “I’d like to stay that way, too.”

  “Explain?”

  “There are a couple things I can’t do if I am to stay human.” She squirmed, and a blush burned up her cheeks. “My grandmother Nyx would like me to do those things. She’s not particularly pleased with my intention to live and die as a human.”

  “And if you do these things, you become something else? Something Other?”

  She nodded.

  “So Nyx hired me to…” He whistled and shook his head. “And Brennan? He’s what?”

  “Daniel is a human. One that my family doesn’t like.”

  “So…” He paused and shook his head, trying to make sense of the things she was sharing. He thought he was taking it remarkably well, all things considered. “I’m trying to understand. Help me out here?”

  Eavan stood and crossed her arms over her chest. “Nyx wanted my first to be someone I’d remember fondly. She’d prefer I sleep with you than with Daniel, and she, undoubtedly, thinks I’d be in danger if I continued…stalking him. He’s making some zombie powder that he’s using to enslave and sell girls. I was just going to try to scare him, rescue some of the girls, but I got caught up. And Nyx thinks that whatever he’s doing with the zombie powder is dangerous to our kind.”

  Cillian sat speechless, watching the people cross through the park. A preacher or madman perhaps was harassing passersby, calling them “harlots” and misquoting the Christian Bible.

  If only he knew what dangers really lived in his city…

  He wasn’t sure which side of the good-evil fence she belonged on—or which side her family was on—but there were nights when he wasn’t sure where he belonged, either.

  “I’ll tell Nyx that you left. Get out of here, Mr. Owens, before you get trapped.” She turned and walked away. “Get out, and don’t look back.”

  Eavan was midway across the park before Cillian could formulate a reply. He wasn’t sure what to think about the things she’d told him, but he was sure that Nyx—and possibly Eavan—had answers to help him stop Brennan. That’s what he’d been sent here to do. He’d expected to do so by ordinary means: the C.D.A. might track and eradicate Crypto Drugs, but he had no direct and open dealings with the world of the Others. The human world still functioned in ignorance. He was to continue to act as if he, too, was ignorant. Other C.D.A. members had a higher security clearance and were thus able to do otherwise.

  Did they end up involved this way, too? Was it just a random case gone off the rails?

  On a personal level, he wasn’t sure if he was flattered or horrified. He didn’t want to think long on that detail. He’d watched her at the clubs with Brennan; he’d watched her stand up to Nyx. And held her in my arms like something molten and too dangerous to touch. There was something different about her, but getting involved personally with a case was a bad idea.

  He caught up to Eavan and said, “You need a lift?”

  She gave him a strained smile. “It’s a bad idea, Cillian.”

  He shrugged. “I’m not running—from either of my jobs.”

  “It’s a mistake,” she said.

  “It’s my mistake then.”

  The way she held herself aloof made him want to comfort her, but in light of what she’d just revealed, that was the very last thing he could do. Instead, they walked silently to his car and drove to Nyx’s house.

  10

  Nyx was dressed in the closest thing to proper attire that she ever wore. Eavan knew when she walked in that they weren’t staying. She shivered. “Will you let Mr. Owens leave?”

  “Mr. Owens?” Nyx repeated with a knowing smile. “Your Cillian is perfectly free to leave if he’d like to go.”

  Eavan’s distancing tactic was, like most things, utterly transparent to Nyx. How many times had they stood in the kitchen in a standoff? Nothing had changed, not the ridiculously artificial country-shabby decor of the room, not the fear that she felt, and certainly not the fact that Nyx had the upper hand.

  Nyx gestured toward the door they’d just entered. “He can go. No strings as long as he doesn’t tell anyone what he’s learned of our world. I’m not a monster, Evvie.”

  Before Eavan could dispute that claim, Nyx held up hand and said, “Not now.”

  “So…” Cillian’s tone was relaxed, but he stood nearer Eavan with his body slightly at an angle, positioning himself between the two women. He hadn’t left. Instead, he’d chosen sides. For whatever reason, he was still acting as if he was there to protect her.

  Nyx stepped toward him, each pace measured and timed to give him a chance to back away, to acknowledge her as the alpha predator she was.

  Cillian stepped forward, moving away from the kitchen counter to give himself room to maneuver. He grinned. “If you’re going to get hostile over her figuring out that you hired me because of Brennan, now’s the time, Grandma.”

  Nyx paused.

  Eavan winced.

  “You’re either brave or foolish, Mr. Owens.” Nyx reached out beside him and took a pair of bone carved hair sticks from the counter. “My granddaughter is precious to me. I want you to keep her safe. In exchange, I will help you in your job. That hasn’t changed.”

  Eavan was speechless.

  “Done. I’ll do my best, but”—Cillian scowled—“I’m not a stud for hire. Eavan told me about…the other thing.”

  “Of course she did. It’s a bit sooner than I expected, but this was all inevitable, my dears.” Nyx twisted her hair up into a coil atop her head. Tendrils snaked down on either side. Stylists would have to work for the look she achieved in a moment—of course, glaistig hair was a living extension of the body, so that did help.

  Nyx stepped bet
ween them and put one arm around Eavan and the other around Cillian. “If she needs a bedmate she might not kill—which she seems fixated on—you’ll be handy. It’s the most progress I’ve had with her, so I’m content. Now, let’s go see Daniel, so that matter can be put to rest, shall we?”

  Eavan hesitated. “Grandmama? Do you think that’s it’s a good idea for all of us to go?”

  Nyx’s laughter was unrestrained. She patted Eavan on the cheek and walked out the door.

  They stood in Brennan’s living room, after having Nyx charm the doorman, a maid, and two security guards. Cillian wasn’t sure at all of the protocol. B&E wasn’t outside the parameters of his job, but murder usually required either a series of paperwork or immediate threat.

  “Much easier to tread quietly when he covers the floor with this.” Nyx looked gleeful as she walked across the plush carpet. “Poor bastard won’t know what hit him.”

  “He’s unnaturally tempting.” Eavan spoke softly. “There’s something off.”

  “He plays with voodoo, dabbles in zombification, so he’s abuzz with energy, and you’re”—Nyx paused and looked askance at Cillian—“you’re hungry. The privilege of age, Eavan: I’m not starving or unsure.”

  Eavan stood, examining an obsidian sculpture to avoid looking at Nyx or Cillian as she admitted, “I don’t like this.”

  “Noted.” Nyx didn’t bother to hide her amusement. She looked around Brennan’s house like an antiques appraiser. “He has good taste.”

  “I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Cillian repeated for the sixth time. Unfortunately, after the second time, Nyx ignored him as if he hadn’t spoken aloud. Cillian wasn’t exactly sure why she even allowed them to come along. He did, however, know what he was doing there. Months of work would be wasted if Brennan was murdered. Admittedly, it would be satisfying. Having criminals simply arrested sometimes felt anticlimactic, but having them murdered before they revealed the information he needed to proceed on his case was a trouble of a different sort.

  He tried again: “Unless he has records here, this will stall the whole investigation…Nyx!” He turned to Eavan. “Can she hear me?”