Midnight Soul

by Kristen Ashley

  How could he assist me, indeed?

  How could he assist me?

  How?

  Blast!

  “The donation needs to be anonymous,” Josette piped in.

  Excellent!

  I fought the urge to give her an embrace.

  “This, too, can be done without legal counsel,” Dax Lahn stated.

  Bloody hell.

  “Do we have attorney-client confidentiality?” Josette asked, sounding authoritative.

  I looked to her and saw her staring right in Dax Lahn’s eyes.

  Ah, my Josette. Such the clever girl.

  And a brave one.

  “You aren’t a client,” Dax Lahn pointed out.

  “Yes, of course we’re not,” I snapped, jumping on Josette’s track. “Because we have not yet had our meeting.”

  “I must admit I’m getting impatient,” he shared, appearing just that and it was unfortunately quite frightening, even for me and I’d been caught in a variety of delicate situations I’d had to talk my way out of. “And I have things to do. So now you’ve got one minute to explain to me why you’re in my office. If that explanation doesn’t satisfy me, I’ll be phoning the police.”

  I glared at him.

  He held my glare.

  Then he said, “Fifty seconds.”

  Gods.

  There was nothing for it.

  I raised my hands to the buttons of my blouse and started to undo them.

  “Frannie,” Josette hissed.

  Dax Lahn lifted a hand, his face now carved in stone.

  “Do not make another move,” he ground out.

  I turned my back to him, lifted my blouse and dipped it over my shoulder, feeling it fall down my shoulder blade and partially down my back.

  I raised my other hand and swept my hair to the side.

  The air in the room went still as I heard Lahn’s shocked, “Jesus Christ.”

  I pulled my blouse back up my shoulder instantly, redid the four buttons I’d undone and turned smartly to him.

  “I am from somewhere else,” I proclaimed. “This somewhere else is far away. In order to leave that place, I had to do terrible things. The man who did this to me…” I drew in breath through my nose and straightened my shoulders. “I have a good deal of money. It’s not strictly legal money, but it’s mine. I earned it. I have quite enough to care for me and Josette, who looks after me in a variety of ways and has done for some time, and I have more. Much more. I wish for it to do good. However, I need to use great caution when I use that money so certain people cannot locate me and certain governmental departments don’t…”

  I trailed off, drew in another breath and shook my head in disgust, looking to Josette.

  “Come,” I demanded. “It’s clear we’ve made an error in our selection of worthy organizations.”

  Both Josette and I began to stomp past him, for my part demonstrating openly the height of the insult I felt had been delivered, when I saw his arm come out and heard his, “Ms. Drakkar…Franka, wait.”

  I halted and turned my head to the side and up (and this up was up, Noc was tall, Dax Lahn was a veritable giant).

  “My apologies,” he murmured. “Something must have been missed.”

  “I fear it was, however—”

  He gestured to the rather smart leather chairs in front of his desk. “If you’ll take a seat.”

  I lifted my chin further for a different reason. “I’d rather not.”

  “Perhaps we can start again,” he suggested.

  I turned fully to him, feeling Josette close to my back.

  “I fear this would not be wise on my part. We do not have this client confidentiality as we’re not clients of yours, but I do hope with the part you play with First Mother House you’ll understand there are women with certain needs and I am one of them so you’ll do me the respect of behaving accordingly.”

  “Of course, you have my word, but—”

  I interrupted him, my thoughts on Noc’s future employment and what he might do in it.

  Therefore, I said, “We shall not start again for it’s without doubt you’ll be setting someone on investigating the veracity of my statements and when you do, you’ll find that I exist. Josette exists. And yet, if your investigator probes deeply enough, you will find we do not. I think you understand my meaning with this. Thus you’re likely to feel that the reliability of my statements isn’t exactly reliable. However, one does what one has to do and Josette and I did just that. I shall not share who I was in a previous life or where I lived it. And I’ll not invite further verbal misuse, or other, at your hands should we speak again and you doubt my story.”

  He moved closer to us, not that close, but it was closer.

  When he did, I felt Josette nearly tuck herself in my back.

  Dax Lahn didn’t miss her movements, undoubtedly read them both correctly and incorrectly, but he’d already stopped, getting close so he could drop his voice very low.

  “You are not the first in your position, Franka, to feel the need to falsify her identity.”

  “I’m sure that’s true,” I retorted. “And I’m equally certain this is a dire state of affairs for I’m also certain that I’m far from the last. Thus me wishing to give a substantial donation to someone who’s doing something about it.”

  “If there’s someone, outside Josette, who can corroborate what you say, just one person, then—”

  Bloody hell, was I going to do what I needed to do?

  Love was on the line.

  I had no choice.

  “Noctorno Hawthorne,” I declared.

  His head twitched at hearing Noc’s name, which gave credence to Noc saying it was most unusual here.

  Then again, it was unusual in my world too. It was simply that a prince had it, and whenever it came to royals, that was that.

  “He’s a police officer from Seattle who…well, there was…” I affected an uncomfortable swallow and softened my voice when I went on, “He was lovely with me. And he and I, we…” I looked demurely away and then back to see what I saw many a time from the my-world Lahn when he regarded his Circe (though with obvious differences as this Lahn was regarding me).

  A tender warmth of features that I felt settle around my heart.

  If I had not known I was doing the right thing (and I already knew that), I would have known in that moment.

  “He’s here, with me, and Jo,” I carried on quietly. “He is not living under…he’s himself. And if you were to look into him, contact him, he would verify all I’ve said to you today.”

  “Can you give me a contact number so I can phone you when I’ve had that verification?” he asked gently and finished respectfully, “I hope you understand the need for it.”

  I opened my mouth to answer but Josette stepped around me. “You can deal with me on that.”

  He nodded to her, took us both in and then we pivoted to watch as he sauntered to his desk.

  My, but he was most watchable.

  More so in person.

  He pulled a pen from his inside jacket pocket, put it to a pad on his desk and lifted his gaze to Josette. “Your number?”

  She rattled it off in a way that made me wonder if I should memorize my own.

  I didn’t think long of that.

  Instead, I thought fast.

  First step done, it was time for the next one.

  I just didn’t expect the first one to happen as it did so I had no idea what should come next.

  “Thank you,” he said when Josette was done and straightened from his desk. “I know it’s an inconvenience that we weren’t able to see to our business today, and it would be my pleasure to take you both, and Mr. Hawthorne if he’s available, out to lunch as my way of apologizing when we meet again to discuss your situation and how best to bestow your gift on First Mother House.”

  I had, for once, not thought fast enough.

  Fortunately, he’d given me the perfect plan.

  I did my best not
to allow my mouth to curve in a triumphant smile and declared, “Dinner.”

  His brows pulled together. “Sorry?”

  “Dinner,” I repeated. “Drinks, for us first, to go over business that should only be between us. And if you’d please invite the director of First Mother House to dine with us after drinks, I’d like to meet her. I’ll make another donation, not anonymous, but generous, to explain her presence while we dine. The anonymous one can be made when all the arrangements have been seen to.”

  “Actually, that’s a great idea,” he stated.

  I knew it was, seeing as Circe wanted us all to meet for dinner and we would be doing just that.

  With Dax Lahn in attendance.

  He carried on, “Patricia is an amazing woman and she’ll be best at explaining just how much good your gift will do for the women, men and children who find themselves in need of First Mother House.”

  Then he imparted upon us a genuine smile.

  Josette beside me made a noise like a stifled moan.

  I pressed my lips together.

  “I’ll look forward to that,” he said, lifting an arm. “And now, I’ll walk you to the lobby.”

  Josette touched the back of my hand and whispered, “I need to call a taxi.”

  “I’ll do that as we walk,” Lahn offered. “We have a service. The least I can do is get you home after wasting your time in coming here.”

  Not to mention, his “service” could offer him the information of the locale of where we’d been deposited.

  I had no idea what reputation Valentine had in New Orleans. My sister-witch was exceptionally cunning so I had no doubt she made certain it was excellent.

  I was still going to lead them to Noc’s house.

  He might be angry.

  But then again, he could have helped. I’d asked. He’d refused. He’d told me to get creative.

  And one could say the last ten minutes were most creative.

  I smiled slowly at Dax Lahn and accepted.

  “That’d be lovely.”

  * * * * *

  “Yeah, unh-hunh, yeah.”

  Noc was pacing his kitchen, head bent, hand wrapped around the back of his neck.

  Josette and I were perched atop the stools at his island, watching him.

  I caught myself biting the side of my lip and ceased doing that as Noc made a turn, dropped his hand, lifted his eyes to me, and at the look in them I felt a not-altogether-pleasant curl in my belly.

  “Right,” he said into his phone. “Tomorrow’s good. We’ll meet there. No problems. Yeah. Later.”

  He finished speaking and took his phone from his ear, his eyes still locked on me.

  “Just to put your mind at rest, sugarlips, I just made a meet with one of Dax Lahn’s investigators to corroborate your story.”

  “I, well, erm…” I began.

  I looked to Josette.

  She felt my gaze and returned it with wide eyes.

  I looked back to Noc.

  “Thank you, darling. That will be most appreciated,” I finished.

  “And so you know,” he continued like I didn’t say anything, “Lahn contracts with the firm I’ll be working for to do his investigative work. So essentially I’ll be having a meeting with my boss tomorrow to let him know my woman is filthy rich but on the run from an abusive relationship and living under a false identity.”

  It took much to remain impassive in the face of this dire information but I did so, saying, “Is that going to be troublesome, my dearest?”

  “No, since I’ve given them permission to investigate me in order to clear myself for the job. This means, now that you’re in my life, they’ll likely investigate you, so now I have a plausible excuse why the woman in my life has falsified identification documents, somethin’ guys the caliber of these are gonna find out in about two seconds.”

  Well!

  That was a windfall!

  “How lovely. Two birds,” I murmured.

  “Two birds, my ass.” Noc did not murmur. “Really fuckin’ good luck.”

  That worked too.

  Noc turned his attention to Josette.

  “I gotta worry about this one’s shenanigans,” he gestured to me. “With this shit today, now I gotta worry about you jumpin’ on her bandwagon?”

  “I’m sorry, Noc, I don’t know what jumping on a band—” Josette began.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake,” Noc interrupted her to say to the ceiling, visibly at the end of his patience.

  I decided to move us past this part as it seemed all had settled quite well with that and now it was time to move on to the next part.

  “As soon as this is sorted, we’re having dinner with Lahn, or Dax, as he’s known here. You will, of course, need to invite Circe to this dinner,” I shared.

  Noc dropped his eyes to me. “Did you hear me when I said this was your gig?”

  “I heard you when you said you’d do anything for me,” I replied quietly.

  Yes, that wasn’t fighting fair.

  But love was on the line.

  That was the one time anyone had to agree it was all right not to fight fair.

  “I just…need to text Glover,” Josette murmured and slid off her stool, moving out of Noc’s kitchen.

  I watched her go, and when she was in the living room, I again looked to Noc.

  “I’m not asking you to break any laws, be my wheel man. I’m asking you to affirm I am who I am and I have the money I’ve offered his charity. And I’m asking you to ask Circe to dinner. That’s it.”

  “And I’m gonna affirm you are who you are and I’m doin’ that part because I got no choice but also because you got half a billion dollars, you can give a million to a domestic violence shelter. Circe, I’ll give you her number. I’ll show at this dinner. But I’m not gonna be the one who leads her to the Savage.”

  “Noc—”

  He took a quick step to stand opposite me at the island.

  “Do anything for you,” he whispered. “Anything you ask. Call Circe. Set her up for an ambush. Right now what I’m askin’ you to do is not ask me to do that. I am who I am to her. That means something to me. She trusts me. That means even more. So please, babe, I’m askin’ you. Don’t ask me to do that.”

  I nodded immediately. “I’ll phone her and you don’t have to be at dinner.”

  “I’ll be there if only to keep your ass out of whatever hot water you might get it in and to be there for Circe if she freaks way the fuck out you’re throwin’ her right to the wolves.”

  Dax was frightening but I’d seen his tender streak.

  He was no wolf.

  I did not share my insight into Dax Lahn’s character.

  I said, “I think that’s wise.”

  Noc drew in breath through his nose.

  I sat still and said nothing as he did that.

  When he released it, he declared, “I cannot believe you waltzed into his office and told him off for missing a non-existent meeting with you.”

  We had told him the story.

  All save the part we were intending unauthorized access to Dax Lahn’s computer.

  We did not (as far as I knew) break any laws.

  Noc didn’t need to know we’d intended to.

  “You told me to get creative.”

  “Well, Frannie, you succeeded in that.”

  I held his gaze and asked softly, “Are you angry at me, my love?”

  “Fuck no,” he replied instantly. “Why would you think that?”

  “You seem,” I flipped out a hand, “irked.”

  His lips twitched. “Irked isn’t angry, gorgeous. Irked is irked.”

  “So you’re irked not angry.”

  “Yeah, the woman I love confronts the most vicious attorney in the city, she succeeds in her objectives and comes away unscathed, I’m not freaked because she’s good. I’m not angry because she’s good. I’m irked because she’s a lunatic.”

  My spine snapped straight. “I’m not a lunatic.” />
  He shook his head and returned, “This is an argument I don’t think we should have when I’m hungry and need food…or maybe ever.”

  I decided we shouldn’t have it, maybe ever, because I was also hungry.

  But further, I was pleased Noc was not going to get more than irked about what Josette and I had done, making me feel like I’d gotten away with something that day, twice. Therefore I felt it best to quietly enjoy my success and move on.

  “Thoughts on dinner?” Noc prompted.

  “Pizza!” Josette cried from the living room.

  Noc grinned in that direction and then he transferred that to me.

  “Good for you?” he asked.

  He didn’t have to ask.

  It was pizza.

  I still answered. “Most definitely.”

  He jerked his chin up to me, expression no longer irked, just sweet.

  No.

  Just Noc.

  “Get on your phone, Frannie. You can’t slice a tomato, but you can learn how to order a pizza.”

  I instantly exited my stool to get my purse to find my phone, for it would be no hardship to learn how to order a pizza.

  None at all.

  Chapter Twenty

  I’m In

  Franka

  “I’m thinking about beauty school,” Jo declared in Noc’s bathroom where I was leaned forward across his basin and putting on my lip gloss while she twitched and flipped strands of my hair that hung around my face, tucking pins more securely in the large chignon that rested at the side of my neck.

  I shifted my eyes to hers in the mirror.

  “Sorry?”

  “Beauty school. I wish to go to one. After Noc teaches me how to drive, that is.”

  I straightened, slid the wand into the gloss and turned fully to her.

  She dropped her hands.

  “Sorry?” I repeated.

  “You know, for something to do,” she stated confusingly. “I’ve always enjoyed doing your hair, best part of what I do. You have lovely hair.” She grinned. “But it’s even more fun here with curling irons and straighteners and smoothing elixirs and—”

  “Jo,” I cut her off.

  “What?” she asked.