My writer’s block was finally gone. It was two a.m. on Monday morning, and I had to go to work in seven hours. I typed the final scene of Captain Slade’s Bounty, clicked save and leaned back, my chair squeaking in protest.
I’d done it. Finished. A slow grin spread across my face as my imagination went into overdrive. I could see it…me landing the perfect agent and making loads of cash. I shut the computer down and walked my empty coffee mug back to the kitchen all the while trying to force myself to yawn, knowing I should get to bed. I just wasn’t tired. Too much caffeine pounded through my veins.
There was an energy in me that would only be appeased by exercise. I threw on stretch pants and a sports bra, then fished my sneakers out from underneath my bed. A good jog would wear me out. Then I could sleep. Jogging in the near middle of the night might not sound too bright, but who was going to mess with a fairy?
I locked the door behind me and started down the steps of my apartment. The air had a certain chill to it, something cold at the moment, but as soon as my blood started pumping, I’d welcome the coolness.
I picked up my feet and started jogging, enjoying the fact that I seemed to be the only person awake at this hour. There’s a certain intimacy to the night when you don’t have to share it with anyone. The sound of my feet pounding against the pavement was my own type of meditation; the chirp of crickets overlaid with the shuffling of various night creatures music to my ears.
I started up the base of a large hill, looking forward to cresting the top. The steep incline was making itself known in the burn of my calves. I hadn’t gone for a run in over a week. Usually, it didn’t sting like this.
“You can do it,” I whispered to myself. Hey, even the magical sometimes need a few words of encouragement.
Gritting my teeth, I closed my eyes and pushed my legs into the ground. The asphalt leveled off and my muscles relaxed. I opened my eyes with a grin. My gaze focused and my smile faded.
A man stood directly in front of me-maybe ten feet away.
I gasped and stopped in my tracks. Every nerve in my body was alert and standing at attention. My body was poised, ready to rebuff an attack. It was a built-in response in law enforcement. You never know when some asshole’s going to try to make your day.
The man was dressed in black. His hooded sweatshirt hung low over his face, making him look like the Grim Reaper, only without the scythe. He dropped the hood, and in the moonlight, I recognized the stranger from Fabian’s store.
I sucked in a breath. He was just as beautiful as I’d first thought. His black hair had the same reflective quality as raven’s wings and glowed under the moonbeams. The moonlight heightened the angular planes of his face, throwing shadows beneath his cheeks and the square lines of his jaw.
Even if he was beautiful, that didn’t mean he wasn’t here to kill me. And, as far as I was concerned, he was here to kill me.
“What do you want?” I said, taking a step back, my feet shoulder width apart and my body tuned to lunge into action should this stranger make a wrong move. Then I remembered I’d left my Op 6 with the dragon blood bullets on the floor next to my bed. How convenient. Well, I could nail him with a lightning bolt or maybe make the ground open up and swallow him.
He made the mistake of coming toward me.
I shook my palm until a mound of fairy dust emerged. I blew the particles at him and imagined him frozen. He stopped mid-gait, like he was stuck in freeze frame; the ice surrounding him twinkled like diamonds. I dropped my shoulders, moving my right arm in a circle, trying to get the blood back into my shoulder. I’d held myself so straight, awaiting his attack, I felt a bit frozen, myself.
Either way, I’d just taken down the man who’d probably killed Fabian.
No help from anyone. No problem. Dulcie O’Neil: Regulator extraordinaire. Just what I needed for my review.
I neared him carefully, trying to figure out what the hell he’d wanted from me. No sooner did the thought leave my head, then the ice shattered around him and dropped in an ineffectual mound. I jumped back as a bolt of fear shot through me. As if he’d never even been frozen, he strode toward me again, and he didn't appear to be in a forgiving mood.
I backed up and throwing another handful of fairy dust, imagined a circle of fire surrounding him. He walked right through it. Just walked through the flames like they weren’t even there. Not good. Really not good.
“Stop screwing around,” he said in a deep, harsh voice. “I just want to talk.”
“Then stop walking.”
He didn’t take my advice, so with another thrust of fairy dust, I pictured a lightning bolt. Once I had it sizzling in my hand, I unloaded it on him. He took the bolt right in the chest and fell with the weight of it, landing on his back. It looked like it had not only taken him down, but knocked him completely out. He had to be dead. No one could survive that much energy. Well, maybe a vampire could, but somehow I didn’t think this guy was a vamp.
I kicked his foot, and it shifted slightly but it was an involuntary motion. He was out cold. Which meant I was safe. I squatted down on my calves and reached for his neck, intending to check for a pulse. As soon as I touched him, I felt myself fly through the air and land flat on my back, the air completely pushed out of my lungs.
Then the stranger was atop me, holding my arms down with a superhuman strength. Maybe he was a vampire.
Stars exploded behind my eyes like a fireworks show. I closed my eyes and forced myself to see through the stars. If I passed out, I was as good as dead-it was an open invitation for this jerk to rape or kill me or something worse. I opened my eyes again and could clearly focus on his face as it loomed above me. He wore no expression- just stoic placidity. “Behave yourself and I’ll let you up.” I just nodded, the wheezing in my chest admitting its own kind of defeat. “What do you want?” “To talk. I tried to reach you in your dreams but you ignored me.” “Who are you?” I managed to choke out. “Can we go somewhere more private? I don’t want the neighbors to wake up.”
I narrowed my eyes. It was just as it had been in Fabian’s store. There was absolutely no hint of anything- not the smell of a werewolf, nor the pounding in my blood that usually hinted at a vampire. Zip, zilch, nada, nothing.
“There’s a park up the street. Should be empty and there aren’t any houses nearby,” I managed. “That means you’ll have to get off me.”
He stood, but watched me as if ready to pounce. “Lead the way.”
I got to my feet, rubbing the pain out of my hands. I met his eyes and immediately started forward, keeping a sizable gap between us. “How’d you get into my dream?” He smiled, and his teeth reflected the moonlight. But, I was more concerned with the fact that I couldn’t detect any fangs. “I have that capability. The power of persuasion. I persuaded you to let me in.” Eerie. “What are you?” He stopped walking. I stopped walking. “How about introductions first? I’m Knight and you’re Dulcie. Nice to meet you.”
He extended his hand, but I didn’t take it-I had no clue what he wanted. Best to keep my defenses up. He dropped his hand, and we started walking again.
“How do you know my name?”
“I’m from the A.N.C. relations office in the Netherworld.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slate tablet about the width of my palm. He handed it to me. I noted his image that appeared on the tablet-the stone turning into what looked like a screen. It was a three- dimensional photo-three dimensional to make it difficult to forge. I searched for the indentation on the back that would prove it was an original. I’d met a handful of people from the A.N.C. relations office and knew what their badges looked like. I found the indentation on the back and slipped my thumb into the slit.
“Dulcie O’Neil, Regulator, Splendor,” a computerized voice read out from the screen. So far, so good.
“I wish to know if you have a…Knight among the relations office employees,” I said, eyeing the subject all the while.
The tablet was quiet as it searched its profiles. “Knightley Vander, Association of Netherworld Creatures, Relations Officer, third precinct.” So, he wasn’t lying. I handed the slate tablet back. “Believe me now?” he asked. It was impossible for someone to fake a Netherworld badge to this extent. It had to be real. “Yeah, okay. What are you?” We reached the park, and Knight took a seat on one of the swings. He looked ridiculous but, okay, sexy. Ahem, really sexy. “You haven’t come across my species before. There aren’t any of us on Earth.” That explained why I couldn’t tell what kind of creature he was. “So, you’re from the Netherworld?” “Yes, I’m a Loki. We were born
