The Better Part of Darkness

flimsy.”

A few Elysians padded past us, barefoot and naked, or dressed in white gowns and sarongs. Hank edged closer to a grouping of potted plants, his voice tight. “It’s either that or nothing at all. Your choice.”

I lifted an eyebrow, standing toe-to-toe with all six foot four inches of him. “Forget it. I’m not changing.”

My pulse raced. I was way too hard up to be in a place like this with naked bodies and perfect males everywhere I turned. If Will, damn him, hadn’t pushed me away, I wouldn’t be having such a hormonal time. “And another thing, where the hell am I supposed to put my weapons?”

An annoyed huff escaped Hank’s lips, and he pulled me into the shadows of a palm tree. “Look, no one’s gonna talk to you if you’re dressed like that. You’ll stick out like a sore finger.”

“Thumb.”

“What?”

“Thumb. You’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”

He rolled his eyes, clearly at the end of his rope. “Whatever. Just go in and change. Nothing’s going to go wrong in here.”

I gave him my “yeah, right” look. I mean, this was Hank and Charlie, known to get into trouble in the weirdest places. But he did have a point. I would look completely out of place. We had nothing to go on but a pack of matches, and we’d have to blend in and strike up conversations where we could.

“Fine,” I ground out, leaving Hank where he stood and heading to the female locker room.

A nymph attendant stood inside next to a long countertop complete with just about anything one would need to “spruce up.” Just like ghouls were cousins of goblins, and imps were cousins of the fae, nymphs were close cousins of sirens. But their skin was naturally tanner than sirens’, their hair usually darker. They were the only race able to shape-shift without the aid of a spell or charm, and they had an intimate, sometimes fanatical, relationship with nature.

The attendant wore her black hair in a bun with ringlets around her face and a gold headband atop her head. A gown of linen draped over her shoulders, similar to the gowns depicted on statues of ancient Greek goddesses. All of the attendants I’d glimpsed so far wore the same headband, hairstyle, and gown.

I gave her a tight smile and headed for a stall. Once the curtain was jerked shut, I shook out the gown, immediately struck by another surge of denial. In the water, the soft white linen would be see-through. The straps were gathered at the top, there was a high waist, and then the soft material fell to mid-thigh. I guessed you were supposed to go commando underneath, but hell if I’d go there.

I left on my bra and panties (thank God they were white), pulled the gown over my head, and then carried all my clothes, firearms tucked under my jacket, to the attendant to ask for a locker and a key.

There was no key. Instead, she wrote down my name, assigned me a locker number, and would unlock it when I returned. Apparently, there was no place to put a key. Figured.

On my way out, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and nearly tripped. I backed up to get a better look. Hank had been right. I sure as hell fit in now. The only difference between me and the attendants was the quality of the gown and my hair, which hung long and loose down my back.

Who knew I could pull off Greek goddess so well?

CHAPTER 5

Hank waited outside the locker room in an above-the-knee white sarong, his arms folded across his bare chest and his toe tapping on the mosaic tile.

Holy Mary, Mother of God. An appreciative breath whistled through my lips.

All two hundred pounds of him glowed with tanned skin pulled taut over fantastic shoulders, cut abs, and gorgeous legs and feet. Yeah, I’d been right for once. Seeing Hank half-naked had been worth the trip.

I was grinning like an idiot and couldn’t hide it. One of Hank’s perfectly arched eyebrows lifted slowly and knowingly at my blatant perusal. Then his lips twitched, and his eyes sparkled as he flipped the tables and ogled my outfit. That made me find my voice. “Is that a loincloth?”

The burgeoning grin on his lips froze. “It’s not a loincloth.”

“It looks exactly like a loincloth.”

His expression turned sour as I cocked my head and gave him a smart look. Satisfied I’d gotten the last word, I strode off toward the main bath.

“You left your underwear on?” His exasperated voice came from behind me.

I stopped, stuck my hip out, and looked over my shoulder, trying to see my rear. “What? You can see them?”

“God, get me through this,” he muttered on a long exhale, grabbing my arm and steering me forward. I was pretty good at leaving him speechless. He didn’t say another word about my undies.

The wide corridor opened into the enormous main bath. Swimming pool, really. Columns held up a mural ceiling and ringed the rectangular room. In places, steam trickled like smoke from the surface of the pool. Beautiful beings swam in the water, lounged on the bath steps, or gathered around low tables, lying on their sides atop pillows and eating finger foods.

“So this is how you guys do it in Elysia.”

Hank shrugged. “For the most part. C’mon, let’s mingle.”

“And get close to Veritas.”

A tall nude male, a very fine tall nude male with an exquisite form and dark skin so wet and gleaming it looked almost black in the soft candlelight, padded by and gave me a quick once-over and then a smile. A light, fluttery sensation bloomed in my belly. I returned his greeting halfheartedly, waiting until he passed to let out a whoosh of air. Dear God. Everything inside of me screamed to turn around and go home. This could not end well.

Suddenly, I noticed every bit of seduction in the room. The nymphs giving massages. The couple in the pool running their hands all over each other’s wet bodies. The blatant nakedness. The open stares of admiration and interest. How could this not turn into one gigantic orgy?

It was too hot in the baths. Too damn hot to even catch my breath and slow my heart rate. A low laugh issued beside me. “Shut up, Hank.”

“Only humans seem to equate nakedness with sex. Like there can be no other outcome,” Hank said. Was I that transparent? “Or is it that you’re such a prude that all this skin is what has you red-faced and panting?” He jumped away before I could swat him.

Maybe I had become a prude. Lack of sex could do that to a girl. Which didn’t explain how one minute, I’m sucking face and begging for it with my ex-husband, and the next I’m so damned flustered and embarrassed at seeing naked bodies at The Bath House. Perhaps I was teetering between eternal prude-dom and desperate sex seeker.

Yeah, and you’re the Queen of Denial, Charlie. There was no doubt in my mind if I wanted to find a partner tonight, I could. But I wouldn’t. Despite its reputation of being addictive, the idea of sex with an off-worlder freaked me out a little. Okay, a lot. And this place was full of them. I was probably the only human here.

Like all Elysians of status, Hank strolled toward the pool as though he owned it while I stood in perfect idiot stance watching him. Splitting up was the best and fastest way to find information, but part of me wished he’d stuck to my side like glue.

Chin up, I encouraged myself, taking a deep breath and stepping into a room designed to be an overdose for the senses.

Deep red brocade curtains hung between columns and were held back with gold rope ties. They framed the massive space and separated the lounging areas from the main pool along with the help of strategically placed ferns. Tall urn-style fountains at each corner sent cascades of water into the pool. The rhythmic cadence mixed beautifully with piped-in music, which sounded suspiciously like Enya. Trays of candles and herbs floated on the surface of the water. I couldn’t detect the scent of chlorine at all.

The heavy air made my skin dewy and my movements slow. Hank was already waist deep in the water