Midnight Soul

by Kristen Ashley

  “You’re…” Circe trailed off but began again. “You are…”

  Not taking his one hand from her waist, Dax lifted his other in the (minimal) space between them, an offer for her to take it in greeting.

  “Dax Lahn,” he introduced at the same exact time she breathed, “Mine.”

  I saw his very broad shoulders straighten with surprise at her assertion.

  Then I saw the color drain from her face.

  “Shit, fuck, fuck,” Noc bit out low, the vicinity of his voice telling me he was standing behind my chair.

  “I’m sorry,” Circe said, swaying again.

  This time back.

  Drat!

  “So, so sorry. So…very…sorry,” she chanted, her cheeks now flaming.

  She took a hasty step away out of Dax’s hold, glanced at our table and then turned on her attractive champagne-colored, spike-heeled sandal and dashed gracefully (thank the Goddess Adele, no trips, or worse, falls) out of the restaurant.

  Drat!

  I quickly pushed back my chair, aiming it away from Noc who was still standing behind me. I rose and darted after her.

  “Frannie,” Noc called on a clip.

  “Do you know her?” Dax asked as I passed him.

  I kept darting even as I looked over my shoulder and assured, “Give me but a moment. We’ll be back.”

  I only caught half a glance at Noc, and seeing in that scant second his expression, I had a feeling he might also offer spankings for other reasons.

  I couldn’t think of that.

  I had to get to Circe, calm her down and then get her to our table, smooth things out and do what clearly would be minimal work at finishing making a match.

  I made it through the seating area, the bar, the reception and out the front door.

  I looked right.

  No Circe.

  I looked left and saw her rolling up on her toes with impatience as she shouted after the black-short-pants-white-shirt-wearing fellow who took Noc’s SUV when we’d arrived and drove it away (Noc’s explanation: a “valet”).

  “Please hurry!” I heard her cry after him. “It’s an emergency!”

  Blast!

  “Circe,” I called.

  She whipped my way, looking at me, beyond me fearfully, then at me, all in a blink of an eye.

  And then her beautiful face grew hard.

  I hurried to her (as much as I hurried, it was undignified to do thus so I didn’t do it, shall we say, noticeably) and I was three feet away when she lifted a hand, jabbed a pointed finger at the restaurant and accused, “This is what Valentine was up to and I can see she roped you into it too.”

  I stopped walking and started speaking, “Circe, we—”

  She leaned toward me, jabbing her hand again at the building, and hissed, “I made a fool of myself in there.”

  Ah.

  That was her concern.

  I smiled at her. “You absolutely did not. You couldn’t have made a more effective entrance if we’d practiced it.”

  She leaned back, her face still set. “Yes. However, we didn’t practice it because I had no idea what I was walking into.”

  “I think it’s pretty clear it went better this way,” I shared as if I was a teacher instructing a student.

  “You do?” she asked, but she didn’t wish an answer for she immediately did that herself. “Well I don’t.”

  I didn’t understand.

  “He’s clearly taken with you,” I noted. “And he’s thus and you barely spoke a word.”

  “Has it occurred to you I don’t want him to be taken with me?” she shot back.

  How absurd.

  I’d simply witnessed what had happened in there.

  She felt it.

  “Circe, you may try to convince yourself—”

  I only got half of that out and stopped talking altogether for she was talking over me.

  “No. It hasn’t occurred to you, or Valentine. If it had, you wouldn’t have orchestrated that debacle I was just forced to perpetrate.”

  It was then I felt the tickle of unease in my belly.

  “My dear, that was not a debacle. It was—”

  “Humiliating,” she spat.

  I swung back at the emotion in her tone then took a step forward, lifting a hand her way.

  “Please, let me expla—”

  She didn’t even allow me to finish that.

  “No explanation needed,” she snapped, looked high above my shoulder and a change came over her face that cut straight through to the bone. “Did you know?” she asked, her voice no longer angry, but broken.

  Oh no.

  “Circe,” Noc said gently.

  “You knew,” she whispered, the expression on her face now one of a woman betrayed.

  Bloody hell.

  Keeping my focus on Circe and not looking at Noc, who I felt now at my back, I shook my still-lifted hand, stating swiftly, “He tried to talk me out of it.”

  Her attention sliced to me, she hid the hurt and her face twisted. “Of course he did. He’s not that kind of man. But you’re just that kind of woman, aren’t you?”

  The verbal strike came so unexpected I couldn’t stop myself from reacting physically, doing this like I’d been slapped.

  “Circe.” Her name from Noc’s lips now came as a growl.

  A disappointed one.

  And a warning one.

  She turned her gaze to him. “She is,” she bit off. “And you should know that.” She looked to me. “I know all about you. Baldur used to talk about you. He thought you were magnificent. Any time he mentioned you it seemed he was half in love with you.”

  This was not a compliment.

  Far from it.

  And the idea of King Baldur, the Loathsome-But-Thankfully-Now-Dead finding me magnificent turned my stomach nauseatingly.

  “I see you think what happened in there was not what actually happened in there,” Noc returned, “seeing as Lahn is right now prowling the foyer like a caged animal, looking for any excuse to march out here to check on you.”

  Her pallor rose instantly as her eyes darted toward the doors to the restaurant.

  This was not the right thing to say.

  I stepped closer to her and immediately tried to soothe her fears. “He won’t. Noc will go to him.” I looked up at him. “And now might be a good time to do that, darling,” I suggested.

  “No fuckin’ way,” he denied.

  “I’ll be all right,” I assured him.

  “You always are,” Circe cut in. “Wreaking havoc then blithely going on your way.”

  I looked to her.

  “My intention tonight was—” I began to explain.

  “Your usual,” she intervened. “Malice. Wickedness. Toying with human beings just for sport.”

  Without telling my feet to do so, at the force of her vitriol, I took a step back and ran into Noc.

  His hand fell warm and reassuring on my waist.

  I did not feel reassured.

  “Your car, ma’am,” the valet said.

  Circe turned to him and didn’t hesitate marching to her car where another black-short-pants-white-shirt-wearing young man was holding open her door.

  “Circe, let me drive you home,” Noc called. “You’re upset. I’ll get you home safe and we can talk while I do.” His voice dipped and his fingers on me squeezed as he said, “We’ll call you and Josette a taxi.”

  “Absolutely not,” Circe refused, swinging around the opened door to her car.

  “It’s not smart to drive in your state,” Noc told her.

  “I die in a fiery crash, that’s on her too,” she retorted, jerking her glorious head of hair my way before she folded into her car and slammed the door.

  Noc pulled me out of the way even if we were of a safe distance, not to mention on the pavement, as she raced off in her vehicle starting fast and going faster.

  I stared after her.

  “You wanna tell me what in the fuck is going on?”r />
  Still unrecovered from the altercation with Circe, I did not want to turn at Dax’s angry voice.

  I had no choice but to turn at Dax’s angry voice.

  Noc turned with me.

  And oh yes.

  Dax was angry.

  My.

  “Didn’t take a mind reader to see she was distraught and you let her get in her car and drive away?” Dax asked Noc incredulously and more than a little hostilely.

  “She wasn’t in the mood to let cooler heads prevail,” Noc returned, doing this bitingly. “And now I gotta get my girls, my car and go after her to make sure she gets home okay.”

  “Yeah, you do that, but do it knowing I’ll be wanting an explanation about why I feel like I’ve just been played and worse,” he lifted a long arm and stabbed a strong finger in the direction Circe roared off, “she was.”

  “Fuck, shit, fuck,” Noc swore.

  “You standing there being pissed is not making sure she gets home okay,” Dax informed him impatiently.

  “Go get Josette,” Noc ordered to me.

  Oh no.

  I looked up at him. “I think I’d rather not leave you two alone.”

  “Go get Jo, Frannie.”

  And let the man I love get torn apart by a savage in front of an elegant other-world restaurant (or, he could try, Noc could likely defend himself quite well, still, they both could get hurt in the process)?

  Categorically…

  No.

  I stared up at him and didn’t move.

  He growled, no words, just the noise.

  It was attractive.

  But the look on his face meant this mingled with not a small amount of downright terrifying.

  He turned back to Dax.

  “Circe is a friend of ours. Frannie met you. Liked your manner. Liked the look of you. Liked your involvement with First Mother House. I’ll say no more about that, but I’m thinkin’ you’re a bright guy and you can put two and two together to understand why she orchestrated a fixup between the two of you at the same time you can put it together why Circe reacted violently to that, especially when it’s clear she took one look at you and was into you.”

  “Are you…fucking…shitting me?”

  As this ominous rumble came from Dax, I took a step back, my hands on Noc to try to make him take a step back with me, but he didn’t budge.

  “So now you know what that was all about,” Noc went on. “And we’ll be sorting that out. You can tell me how pissed you are right now after you name your first son after me,” Noc stated audaciously and again looked at me. “Now, baby,” he dipped his face to mine, “go…get…Jo.”

  His tone invited no other response but the one I gave him.

  “I’ll just go get Jo.”

  He straightened.

  I started on my errand trying not to look like I was moving as hurriedly as I was.

  Something made me stop when I’d come alongside Dax (not close alongside him, just alongside him, I had something to say but I was no fool).

  Slowly, he stopped scowling at Noc and turned his scowl to me.

  “She’s the most delicate thing you’ll ever hold in your hands. You’ll win her. She’ll reward you for the effort. But mark my words, if you ever hurt her, I’ll fucking annihilate you.”

  He no longer looked fierce. His chin had jerked back into his neck and he looked stunned.

  He likely wasn’t used to being threatened.

  I did not pause to take in the incongruity of the fact that, even stunned, Dax Lahn was immensely attractive.

  I hurried without appearing to hurry to collect Jo.

  * * * * *

  I dashed up the steps of Valentine’s home in my spiked, red heels.

  “Frannie,” Noc called after me.

  I didn’t say a word or slow my gait.

  I kept charging up the stairs.

  “Goddamn it, Franka,” Noc clipped.

  I made the upper landing and stomped angrily to Valentine’s magic room.

  I had collected Jo at the restaurant. We’d driven to Circe’s. Even if we’d seen the lights on from the outside, we’d gone into her apartment building. There we’d ascertained she was quite all right when Noc knocked on her door and it burst into a sheet of magical, golden flame that caused no harm to the door but blew a wave of heat in our direction that needed no words to share Circe wished us to go away.

  We went away.

  The drive home was silent.

  Noc took my key to Valentine’s house and let us in the front door silently.

  And I’d made my ascent to her magic room quickly, but also silently.

  I flipped the switch and a charming lamp with a jade-green glass shade lit on the table that held her crystal ball.

  I went directly to it and touched my hand to its cool surface.

  Imbued with her magic but being touched by mine, a striking, if obviously confused, drift of teal smoke formed inside it.

  “Franka,” Noc said from the door.

  “Valentine,” I snapped at the ball. “Come. Now.”

  I touched the crystal again feeling the emotion swell in my breast, the rush of power wash over my skin, barely keeping hold on the guilt clawing inside me.

  A waft of cyan smoked the orb.

  My magic was winning.

  If anyone touched my crystal and filled it with their magic, I’d lose my mind.

  I was hoping Valentine felt the same.

  “Valentine,” I hissed. “Come to me. Now.”

  “Frannie, sweetheart,” Noc said from close, his voice now calming.

  I looked to him and was not surprised to see the entire room colored blue.

  “My magic, at this moment, is not under my control therefore it would be safer if you absented yourself,” I told him.

  “Baby, you need to calm down,” he replied.

  “You do indeed,” Valentine declared and both our eyes went to the sound of her voice.

  She’d arrived and the minute I saw her she lifted her hand, waved nonchalantly, and the blue cleared away as did the residual emerald smoke that heralded her arrival.

  “You also need to explain to me why you interrupted me in what I was doing and practically pulled me away,” she demanded irately. “Calling to me on an astral plane is one thing, Franka. Dragging me bodily from my pursuits is another.”

  Now that was a shock. I had no idea I had the power to do that at all, much less do it to a witch who had the awesome power of Valentine.

  I did not make a comment on that.

  “I orchestrated a meeting with Dax and Circe this evening,” I informed her.

  She crossed her arms on her chest. “Yes, I’m aware of that. I felt a disturbance in the force.”

  Noc made an agitated movement at my side but I was focused on her flippancy (and wouldn’t understand just how flippant it was until Noc explained it by making me watch a very fantastical, but quite excellent, film, wisely doing this sometime later).

  “I thought you said you were talented in intrigue,” she remarked.

  “And I thought I had a partner in this particular intrigue,” I returned.

  Her face shadowed. “You’re quite aware I’m not available for this project at this time.”

  “And now I’m quite aware that affecting schemes in this world might end in a woman operating a vehicle while excessively agitated. Doing this rather than rushing from a room to a sleigh or carriage, at worst, but usually to a fainting couch where she can play out her drama, or in this case, understandable emotion at what she perceives as a betrayal, without putting her life in danger behind the wheel of a car.”

  It was then I saw the real Valentine for she looked stricken for a moment before she hid it.

  “Perhaps we should allow some time to pass before we again take up the reins on this endeavor,” she suggested.

  “Absolutely not,” I returned, shaking my head and taking a step toward her. “The die has been cast. You weren’t there. It could be the disturban
ce you felt wasn’t her upset at the betrayal she thought was committed against her but instead the moment she clapped eyes on Dax Lahn. Or it could have been the moment he touched her. Or it could have been the moment she touched him. That was, before she fell apart and rushed dramatically from a crowded restaurant. Oh, and this was after she nearly fell flat on her face the moment she laid eyes on Dax. All of this, incidentally, happening over the approximate expanse of thirty seconds.”

  “It seems you are clever with intrigues,” Valentine murmured admiringly.

  Well!

  It was safe to venture I’d had enough.

  I took another step toward her, the manner in which I did causing Noc to slide an arm around my stomach from his position at my back and waylay me.

  So I stopped.

  “As difficult as the road that lay ahead of us is, that us including Circe, we must carry on before she uses the bleakness of her past to harden her heart to a future of promise,” I proclaimed.

  “I see what you mean.”

  That was the only response Valentine gave.

  “Valentine, I would say I need you but I don’t. Circe does,” I snapped. “I’m aware the time is not right for you but I’m afraid, my sister, you need to see beyond your own sorrow in order to lead our other sister from hers.”

  I watched her mouth tighten and knew this was due to the fact I uttered those words while Noc was in the room. I sensed she was a private woman. The very idea of Noc understanding her current plight would not be welcome.

  I could not worry on that. She would endure.

  Circe, however, had had enough enduring to last a lifetime.

  “Respect, Valentine, what’s going on with you is not my business, but you gotta know Frannie is right,” Noc thankfully entered the conversation. “What happened tonight was fucking brilliant and a complete disaster. You don’t strike while the iron is hot, he’ll lose her. And I can tell you right now it’s taking all that man’s got to convince himself not to call his investigators to find her so he can find her. And when he does that, drag her to his beach house or mountain condo or whatever that guy’s got that’s remote so she can’t run away and then convince her she’s the one not having the barest inkling he’ll be scaring the absolute shit outta her. That is, if he hasn’t already called his investigators.”

  And the real Valentine made another appearance.