Something Wicked

Her gaze didn’t go to her long, bone-straight auburn hair, green eyes lined with smoky liner, or plunging neckline that showed off too much cleavage to be considered remotely modest, but instead to the necklace she wore. The pendant was light gray with darker veins running through it. It looked like a two-inch oval piece of polished marble. She absently ran her fingertips over its cool surface.

“Don’t worry.” The previous amused and mocking edge to Darrak’s voice was gone and replaced by a serious tone. “It’s still practically white.”

She tried to smile at her reflection. “You’re a very good liar, you know that?”

“I have been told that once or twice before.”

The amulet showed how damaged her soul was after having recently come into some. . powers. Dark powers. She was now officially a “black witch”—a woman who had black magic at her fingertips to use whenever she wanted.

Using this kind of magic destroyed a soul piece by piece, little by little, eating away at one’s ability to tell good from evil. The best solution — the only solution — was not to use the magic at all. Eden had used it just once and her soul was damaged from it. Just a shade darker, but it would never be completely pure again.

Eden could feel it now, only a short mental reach away — a bottomless ocean of power that itched to be used. It was like doing heroin. She’d heard that you became an immediate junkie the first time you did that drug.

Ditto black magic.

She hadn’t told Darrak about this constant urge she now had to dip into the dark well of power. He was adamant that she never use it again, no matter what — it was too dangerous for her. He felt a great deal of guilt about her current gray-stoned predicament, which was understandable. After all, it was his fault she was now officially a black witch.

Having sex with the demon had—hocus-pocus—accidentally turned her into one.

She chewed her bottom lip and tasted her red lip-gloss as the memory slid through her mind of what had happened between them.

Well. . Darrak did have solid form during the day. And that form was a mighty fine one.

What could she say? It had happened. Once.

But it could never happen again. Ever. Not unless she wanted to put more of her soul at risk. And she didn’t. She was very fond of her soul, even in its current slightly dingy state.

“Do you see him yet?” she asked, taking her mind off other hazardous subjects. She turned away from her reflection to look at the faces in the crowd, slowly scanning the width of the room.

“Not yet. This place is packed. I think every desperate single person in the city is here tonight.”

Eden took a shaky sip of her wine. It tasted bland and, to be honest, a bit boring. Not that she’d ever admit it.

“I don’t believe it,” a voice said to her left. “Eden Riley. Long time no see.”

She turned, and her eyes widened with surprise. “You’re kidding me. Graham. . Graham Davis?”

The attractive dark-haired man grinned at her. “You remember me.”

A matching smile blossomed on her face. “High school was only, oh, a dozen years ago.”

“Seems like two dozen sometimes.”

Darrak sighed internally. “Eden, you need to keep your attention on the room so I can spot my contact. Priorities, remember?”

Obviously the demon didn’t realize how long it had been since she’s seen Graham. It felt like forever. She had no idea why they hadn’t stayed in touch. After high school, Graham had gone backpacking in Europe, she’d gone off to university, and time had simply passed. Too bad, really. Graham had been one of her very best friends.

Graham’s gaze moved down the front of her. “You’re looking fantastic. Just as gorgeous as you were back in grade twelve.”

She grinned. “Right back at you. And that’s a great suit.”

Graham looked down at his gray Armani. “I dress to impress.”

“Eden. .” Darrak said tightly. “I know we’re in a lustful, desperate singles’ club, but that’s no reason to let this guy hit on you.”

Darrak thought Graham was hitting on her? She tried not to smile at the thought. As attractive as Graham Davis was, and as good friends as they’d been back when they were teenagers, she and Graham had never hooked up and never would. It could have had a little something to do with Graham being gay.

But Darrak didn’t know that, which would explain the jealous edge to his words.

The thought that another man’s potential interest would make Darrak jealous, despite their mutually agreed to platonic partnership was. . interesting.

But it only made things more complicated.

“You really shouldn’t be here, Eden,” Graham said.

That got her full attention. “I shouldn’t?”

He shook his head, taking a moment to scan their surroundings. “If you’re looking to meet someone new, there are better places than this to find someone. It’s dangerous here.”

“Doesn’t look all that dangerous to me. Besides, what are you doing here?” She raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t seem like your kind of singles’ club.”

His mouth curled up on one side. “You don’t think I can meet my future bride here?”

She smiled back at him. “Somehow, I doubt it.”

Graham’s grin widened. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s fate, us seeing each other again. Maybe I should leave my old life behind, and you should marry me, and we’ll have lots of gorgeous babies together.”

“I hate this guy,” Darrak said. “Eden, letting this blast from your past drool on you is not productive to our goal tonight. Let’s carry on, shall we?”

“Sounds like a perfect life,” she said to Graham. “Shall we set a date?”

Graham held the smile a moment longer before it faded at the edges. “Seriously though, I think you should take off. This place. . I don’t know what’s going on, but something’s very wrong here.”

She frowned. “Which means what?”

“I’m doing a story on this club for the Toronto Star.”

“You’re a journalist? That’s so great. It’s what you wanted to be back in the day.”

He nodded. “Investigative journalist. And I’ve been investigating this club. There have been six women who’ve gone missing in the area, all of whom were regulars here since Luxuria opened for business last month. I feel like there might be a predator at work, and”—he shook his head—“I just have this strange hunch that it’s directly related to the club itself.”

The thought made a chill run down her spine. “Are the police investigating, too?”

“The disappearances, yes. The club itself, no. The missing women are only loosely connected to this place, and they don’t see the connection as keenly as I do. There’s nothing yet that ties it directly to the club except for a gut feeling on my part. If I find anything to substantiate my hunch, this place would be shut down in a heartbeat.”

“So you’re telling me to be careful.”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.” Graham touched her arm. “Consider it a request from an old friend. Stay safe. Even though it’s a big, lonely city and it’s nice to find someone to be with, I figure it’s way better to be alone and alive than alone and dead.”

A chill went down Eden’s spine. “You think the women are dead?”

“That’s what I’m here to figure out, and I’m not leaving until I do.” He cocked an eyebrow. “And, you know, if I win a journalism award along the way, then it’s all the better. It’s going to be a great story.”

Eden reached into her purse and pulled out a business card. “Here. Take this.”

He did and looked at it. “You’re a private investigator?”

“I. . well, I own half of Triple-A Investigations. It’s just a small office on the outskirts of the city. I assist someone else, mostly, but what I’m saying is if you need some help, I’d be happy to pitch in any way I can.”

Graham smiled and tucked the card into the pocket of his jacket. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind. It was good