Cambion

by Plum Pascal

  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 from the fires of Hades.”

  A Loki. Weird. I’d always thought Hades was just a fable.

  “So what can you do?” I asked, sounding like a kid comparing video games.

  “I can withstand fire for one thing,” he said and laughed, thinking himself funny. I didn’t.

  “What do you do for the Relations Office?”

  He shifted back and forth in the swing, shuffling his feet. “I’m a detective.”

  I leaned against the trunk of a nearby tree, crossing one foot over the other. I was trying to look relaxed but finding it difficult.

  “What brought you here?”

  Knight stopped swinging. “Someone called a creature from the Netherworld to Splendor, and the same creature killed the warlock.”

  “Fabian?” I gulped. So Knight was involved, but only so far as he was investigating. Damn. The finger was still pointing at me. “I had nothing to do with it.”

  He started swinging again, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I didn’t think you did. I’m here to find out where the creature is and who summoned it.”

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  He shrugged. “You’re a Regulator and this is your territory. I thought I should pay you the courtesy of informing you I was here so we could … work together.”

 
“But you never registered at Headquarters. If you’re so interested in working with us, why not register and why not come to Headquarters to find me? Why talk to Angela about me?”

  He arched a brow, and that same slow smile slid over his lips like a snake. “You did your homework. It’s confidential as to why I didn’t register.”

  I frowned. “Confidential? I’m law enforcement, too, in case you forgot.”

  He nodded. “I didn’t forget. But confidential is confidential. It doesn’t matter who you are.”

  I pushed away from the tree, annoyed. “Quillan gives me my jobs, not you. Talk to him.”

  “This goes over his head. If you want me to report back to the Relations Office that you were less than willing to comply, I can do that.”

  I stopped in my tracks. He was threatening me now? Great, I was stuck. Whatever the Netherworld wanted, it got. Otherwise, I could be deported for failing to do my job. Especially when it appeared that job was now coming from a higher power than Quillan.

  “No, don’t do that,” I said, annoyed. “So going back to this creature, you think someone called it?”

  Knight smirked, knowing he had me. “I know someone called it.”

  His cockiness really irked me. “Do you know what the creature is? I think it’s a werewolf.”

  “No, it’s a Kragengen shifter.”

  “Oh, really?” I said, pretending to know what the hell that was.

  “You don’t have Kragengens here,” he said with a smile, as if he knew what I was thinking. “They only exist in the Netherworld.”

  “Great, how in the hell are we going to find a shape-shifter?” I asked. “Talk about a needle in a haystack.

  “Kragengens are not true shifters. They can only assume one form aside from their animal forms. If we find it in its human form, we’ve got it.”

  I was quiet as I considered it. “What about the fact that there wasn’t any blood?”

  “Kragengens are blood suckers though not vampires. Distantly related,” Knight finished, looking as pleased with himself as an A student.

  I threw my hands on my hips. “Since you have this all figured out, what do you need my help for?”

  He nodded. “Two heads are better than one.”

  “Aren’t macho guys like you supposed to insist they work alone?”

  He shrugged. “Whoever said I’m macho? Truth of it is, I do prefer to work alone. But orders are orders.”

  “You have orders from higher up to work with me?” He nodded. “Why me and not Quillan?”

  “Confidential.”

  I glared at him. This “confidential” stuff was getting old. “So back to you—you said you were a lichen?”

  He laughed again, this time deeper. “A Loki. Lichen is algae.”

  Heat shot to my cheeks. Lichen? Ugh. “Whatever, a Loki. What’s so great about you?”

  “I have the strength of a vampire and I can influence dreams.”

  “That’s it?” I asked, not meaning to sound so rude. “I mean, you can’t do magic?”

  He shook his head. “No magic. I’m immune to it, though.”

  “So I noticed,” I grumbled, remembering the ice and fire episodes. “Okay, smart-guy, any ideas on how we nab this shape-shifting creature?”

  “Based on the fact that it tore Fabian to pieces, it probably enjoys causing pain. So I ask you—where would a supernatural creature who enjoys inflicting pain want to spend its free time, here in Splendor?”

  I felt a chill. “Dagan’s S&M club, Payne.”

  He slid off the swing and nodded. “Bingo.”

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  ALSO BY PLUM PASCAL

  (Writing as H.P. Mallory)

  Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance Series:

  The Sacred Oath Series

  Fantasy Romance Series:

  The Lily Harper Series

  The Dulcie O'Neil Series:

  (Over 1 million downloads of the series!)

  Paranormal Romance Series:

  The Jolie Wilkins Series:

  (New York Times Bestselling Series!)

  The Sinjin Sinclair Series

  The Peyton Clark Series

  Virtual Reality Romance Series:

  The NuLife Series

  About the Author:

  Plum Pascal is a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author (under the pen-name, HP Mallory) who started as a self-published author.

  She lives in Southern California with her son and two cranky cats, where she’s at work on her next book.

  Find Plum Online!

  Website: www.hpmallory.com

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/hpmallory

  Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/hpmallory/