The Darkness of Sable

by Faith Bicknell

  She nodded. “Why?”

  His expression transformed from charming to stoic. “They’re not a good bunch to get mixed up with, sweetheart. Take my advice and steer clear. You’ll thank me later.”

  “Thanks, but I have no choice.”

  “Please be careful, dear Rapunzel.” He cast a worried look her way and turned back toward the bar.

  Unease elbowed her guts. She shoved through a group of girls barely legal to drink. Even above the pounding music, their high-pitched laughter pierced Sable’s ears.

  She glimpsed Goldie, who nodded. Gradually, Sable forged through the crowd until she drew close enough that she saw one of the Goth women hold up a long index finger, its nail like a talon and painted black. Although she couldn’t hear what they were saying, she could tell by their expressions the discussion was intense.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Surprise gyrated through Sable. She gaped at Isa. The sentient lady pulled a creamy, sequined shawl tightly around her narrow shoulders. Her ankle-length beige dress glimmered with gold threads and matched her delicate cream-colored flats.

  “Where the hell did you come from?” she asked the elderly woman.

  “You’re not welcome over there,” Isa stated. She smoothed a few errant strands of snowy hair back into her upswept do with a bejeweled, arthritic hand.

  The music transformed into something soft, its lilt reminding Sable of green fields and blue skies.

  “Why not?” Sable asked.

  “Your interference could cost Cheyenne her life—if she’s still alive.”

  “What? Is my daughter dead?” Tears sprang to Sable’s eyes, but she blinked them away. “Isa, what’s going on?”

  “Trust me, Sable. Goldie’s protected from those people, but you’re not. You’re vulnerable, and so is Cheyenne. Stay away and let my granddaughter handle this.”

  The old woman’s dark gaze bored into hers. Something whispered to Sable that she should listen to her, take her advice. In fact, the whisper turned into a scream that echoed in her brain. She shook her head to clear the disturbing sensation.

  “All right. I’ll do it for you this time.”

  “Don’t do it for me. Do it for your daughter.” Isa raised her hand and beckoned to someone. “Now, it’s time that you go back to your hotel.”

  “Oh, but I can’t. I’m here with…” She turned in the direction the old woman had motioned.

  Thomas, his face a mask of anger and determination, descended the last half of the staircase with Hal in tow.

  A cold, stinging slap of reality struck Sable. Guilt stormed into her heart on lightning bolts of regret and shame. But why the hell was Hal with him? Seeing Thomas’s disapproving expression sent a pang through her so intense her knees nearly buckled.

  She gulped as he reached her. “Wh-what are they doing here?”

  “I called Thomas to fetch you.” Isa shrugged. “I don’t know the other man.”

  “Shit.” Sable swayed, and Isa grabbed her forearms.

  The old woman’s gaze locked with hers. “Listen to me, child. First, you need to defeat your demons before you can go into battle for your daughter. If you don’t, there’s no hope of victory for either of you.”

  “What are you talking about?” Sable felt like she was on a roller-coaster car that had broken loose and was careening out of control. The guilt mounted, smothering her with its weight.

  “Also, heed my warning about that fellow you met here,” Isa continued. She gripped Sable’s arms tighter, forcing her to pay attention. “Rick isn’t what he seems. You’ll find yourself lost forever if you keep seeing him.”

  “Wh-what?”

  “Sable! What are you doing in this place?” Hal’s voice cut through the Celtic tune blasting through the stereo system. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “That’s enough,” Thomas snapped, his eyes sparkling with something hard, powerful. “I didn’t want you to come along in the first place, Hal, but you’re here, so don’t make matters worse.”

  “Take her out of here and hurry!” Isa shoved Sable toward Thomas, who wrapped one arm around her waist. “We’ll call if Goldie finds out anything about Cheyenne that’s useful.”

  Thomas nodded and drew Sable toward the stairs.

  Chapter Twenty

  Thunder

  O utside, at the top of the stairwell, Thomas paused and allowed Sable to catch her breath. The salty ocean breeze caressed her, cooling her face, neck, and chest. She sucked in clean air and filled her lungs until they strained. She exhaled slowly. Next to her, the odd symbol on the brick glittered under the streetlights.

  Rumbling reverberated through the night. In the distance, faint flickers of an approaching storm lingered somewhere far out over the gulf.

  “I don’t understand what’s going on,” Hal said. He tapped his ever-present pipe on the rail surrounding the stairwell. Both dead and glowing ashes littered the walk. “This joint wasn’t here today.” He slipped the pipe into his suit jacket. “I’m sure we were here this afternoon, but the nightclub wasn’t. It was a storage warehouse.”

  “Told you,” Sable whispered. Nausea washed over her. She closed her eyes and fought to calm the awful sensation.

  “Take the other limo and go back to your hotel,” Thomas said to Hal. “I’ll take Sable back to her suite.”

  She looked up at Thomas and leaned into him, grateful for his support, for the warmth of his body.

  “Now hold on just a minute!” Hal’s eyes hardened into ice chips. “She’s my wife—”

  “Don’t even go there,” Thomas said so quietly it pebbled the flesh along Sable’s arms. “You always seem to forget the ex that goes in front of that word.”

  “This is about Cheyenne, and I don’t think—”

  “If you hadn’t stopped by to see Sable this evening, you would’ve never known she was here,” Thomas said. “I only let you go in the club with me because you’re a pain in my ass.”

  “Hal,” Sable said. “Shut up and go back to your hotel, please?”

  Her ex-husband stood looking back and forth between the two of them, the anger in his eyes almost leaping out in a shower of cerulean sparks.

  Giggles drifted out of the stairwell, and two women emerged to squeeze past them and stagger down the street on their four-inch stilettos.

  Thomas drew Sable beneath the symbol, looked at Hal, and said, “There’s some major shit happening down there. I think your ex-wife put her life at risk going into such a questionable place in hopes of finding your daughter, so don’t start your shit with her or me. I won’t stand for it.”

  “You son of a bitch!” Hal advanced on him, hands balled at his sides. “Where do you get off telling me what to do?”

  “I care about Sable,” Thomas replied, his tone even. “As far as I’m concerned, that’s all you need to know.”

  “The only reason you’re sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong is because you’re fucking her,” Hal sneered. “You’re afraid of losing a spectacular piece of ass. I’ll give her credit.” He laughed. “She’s certainly a dynamo in the sheets.”

  Thomas moved away from Sable, and she gasped as his fist arced through the air and connected with Hal’s jaw. The thin crack sickened her. Hal stumbled back, his arms windmilling once, twice, then he fell flat on his ass. He grasped his jaw with one hand, the other on the sidewalk to brace him, eyes wide with shock.

  “You bastard! You hit me!”

  “Yeah, and I’ll do it again if you open your mouth one more time.”

  The anger drained from Hal’s face.

  With the same hand that had struck Hal, Thomas offered to help him up. “Now go back to your hotel. If Sable finds out anything about Cheyenne, she’ll call you.”

  Hesitantly, Hal took his hand, and Thomas hauled him back up on his feet. Hal favored Sable with a long, unsettling look. With resignation in his eyes, he sighed and turned, stalking across the street to the waiting limousine.

>   Sable rested her body against the wall and stared up at the sky. Stars winked brightly, each one a pinprick in an expanse of black velvet. Wouldn’t it be funny if there was a child on the other side of the sky shining a flashlight through it? We’re all so small, so insignificant. Who’s to say that there isn’t more to the universe than we think? She closed her eyes and groaned. She’d certainly seen enough the past three days to convince her that life wasn’t what it seemed.

  “Are you okay?” Thomas asked.

  She nodded.

  “I’m sorry I hit Hal.”

  “I’m not,” she replied, her eyes still shut. “He’s been asking for that for years. I’m just glad it was you who did it and not someone who would’ve thrashed him within an inch of his life—not that he doesn’t deserve that, too—but sometimes he has a good side. He just doesn’t show it much.”

  “Trust me, I did feel like thrashing him.”

  Thunder boomed in the distance as if echoing his anger.

  Sable looked at Thomas. Her breath hitched, pulse leaping. He stood in designer jeans, Air Jordans, and a crisp white polo shirt, the contrast between dark skin and white fabric stark under the streetlamp. It didn’t matter if he wore an Armani, jeans, or pajamas, Thomas was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.

  So why am I letting Rick touch me?

  Stings assailed her eyes, but she couldn’t hold back the floodgates any longer. A sob wrenched free of her lips, and the teardrops spilled over in wave after wave of sorrow, fear, and shame.

  Thomas immediately pulled her against his body. “Hush now, baby girl. I’m here for you,” he whispered. “Always.”

  His words both pained her and soothed her pain, but Sable sobbed harder.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” He stroked her hair.

  “I…I’ve done something horrible,” she said.

  “What could you do that’s so horrible?”

  She couldn’t talk for the cries and wails that burst from her mouth like a flock of startled seagulls. He continued to hold her, caressing her hair. Murmured words of comfort did little to calm her. She cried her soul dry, clenching her fingers in the folds of his shirt, face buried in his shirt.

  With Sable’s conscience momentarily assuaged, her sobs subsided. Thomas kept her in his arms, his body swaying hers back and forth to a silent rhythm. Laughter and bits of casual conversation penetrated Sable’s brain as bar hoppers came and left The Threshold.

  Through it all, a tiny ember of realization awakened in Sable. Isa was right about Rick. Something was different about him—and not in a good way. Whenever she was around him, her will flew out the window, and all common sense stampeded after it. And the nightclub wasn’t what it seemed either. Once she stepped across the nightclub’s threshold, her entire mindset shifted. She thought and did things that were the opposite of her true self.

  She pulled away. A large wet spot resided on Thomas’s shirt.

  “I need a tissue.”

  “Sorry,” Thomas’s voice rumbled, soothing her nerves. “I’m all out of Kleenex, but you can use my shirt. It’s already wet.”

  She laughed softly. “Now that’s a true and gallant knight. Not many men would allow a woman to soil a nice polo with snot and smeared makeup.”

  Two thirtysomething women passed them on their way to The Threshold. The brunette paused, rummaged in her handbag, and handed Sable a tissue.

  “Thank you,” Sable said.

  “No problem,” the woman said, casting Thomas a dark look.

  “Oh,” Sable said and shook her head. “It wasn’t him.”

  “I’m glad.” The woman smiled. “He’s too handsome to be a jerk.” She slipped her arm through the blonde’s next to her, and together, they started down the stairwell. “Take care of your lady,” she called over her shoulder.

  Thomas grinned, his attention on Sable as she dried her eyes and blew her nose. “I’m trying,” he said. “Trying really hard.”

  The kernel unfurling in her heart burst into leaves and blooms of revelation. She looked up into Thomas’s lovely eyes and knew her heart shouted the truth. Why hadn’t she seen it before?

  I’m in love with him.

  Her guilt and shame made sense now. She felt she’d been unfaithful to Thomas, and her heart insisted she was right.

  Thomas drew her against his side and signaled the limo driver.

  At the contact of his warm body, a tendril of pleasure threaded Sable’s body.

  “Come on, baby girl. It’s time to go back to the hotel.”

  “Wait.” She gazed at him. “Do you have a couple twenties on you? I’ll give the money back to you at my suite.”

  Without a word, he withdrew a money clip from his front jeans pocket, peeled off two bills, and handed them to her.

  The limo pulled up alongside the curb, and the chauffeur got out.

  “Driver, would you take this twenty inside the nightclub,” she asked, pointing down the stairs, “and give it to the bartender there? Tell him it’s from the Rapunzel lady. Here’s a twenty for the cover fee, too.”

  He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She told him the password to get into the club, and Thomas helped her into the back of the limo.

  Thunder grumbled over Naples. Sable sank deeper into the tub of steaming water laced with honey and lemon soaking salts. She nursed a guilty conscience, but for every ache of her soul, pain also arced through her skull.

  The door squeaked open, startling her. She thrashed upward, the memory of her last bath and the snapping teeth still fresh in her mind. Her heart knocked painfully, pulse banging at a frenzied rate.

  “Whoa, sorry!” Thomas called through the crack in the door. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you decent? Can I come in for a minute?”

  “Sure.” She reclined in the water again, the foam on its surface concealing her body.

  He entered the bathroom and handed her a drink, the ice cubes tinkling merrily. “Are you okay?” he asked as he knelt by the tub.

  “I’m fine. I must’ve dozed off.” She sighed, calming herself, and clutched the tumbler between her wet hands, her hair floating around her in a dark cloud. “I just have so much going around in my mind.”

  “Do you feel like talking yet?”

  His deep voice, reminiscent of the thunder outside, awakened something within Sable. Heat flashed into her lower abdomen. Trying to distract herself, she sipped from her glass. “No,” she whispered around the burn of the bourbon. “I don’t have it all straightened out in my head yet.”

  It wasn’t a lie, but more guilt flowed over her regardless. How did she tell the man she was in love with him when she couldn’t believe it herself? How did she tell him she wanted to stand from the tub and present herself to him, nude, wet, and willing?

  However, how could she love him and yet allow a near stranger to coax her to the edge of an orgasm? Heat rose in her face, and she looked away.

  “How’s the headache?”

  “The same.”

  “Maybe you should go ahead and have some of your hair cut off.”

  Startled, she said, “You always insist my hair’s my trademark.”

  He stood, knees popping. “It is, but a few inches might help relieve the strain on your neck and scalp. The doctor you saw for your headaches said that they might be partly caused by the weight of your hair, right?”

  She nodded.

  “Then consider having a foot or so of it cut and see if it helps. If it doesn’t help at least a little, then you’ll know it’s not your hair causing the pain.”

  It made sense, but it still shocked her that Thomas would suggest such a thing. Even if fans had never seen her in person or a picture of her, everyone had heard about her super thick, super long mahogany hair.

  “Do you want me to get one of your pills?” he asked.

  “No,” she replied, “I’ll sip on this and try to relax. It might be that I’m just uptight. I don’t want to mix anything with the liquor I’ve already had
this evening.”

  “How about a snack?” He fidgeted next to the tub, hands jammed deeply into his pockets, coins jingling as his nervous fingers dashed them about.

  She stared up at him. He wanted so badly to help her, to make her feel better. She offered him a weak smile. “That sounds nice.”

  An enormous smile light up his face. “Good. What do you want?”

  “How about fruit and some finger sandwiches? Maybe a pot of coffee.”

  He reached for the door. “I’ll go change my clothes, order the snack and have it sent to your suite. I’ll be back in a few.” He pulled the door shut behind him.

  Thunder boomed.

  Water dripped.

  The thud of something in a room overhead filtered through the ceiling.

  She tried to absorb everything that had happened over the last three days—the monsters, the rat-humanoid thing, her erotic encounters with Rick, Hal reinserting himself in her life, and her love for Thomas. Everything overwhelmed her, and the pain peaked in her head.

  Maybe I should just keep quiet about my feelings for Thomas. I don’t want to complicate matters. She groaned and leaned her head against the tub. Why did life have to be so complicated and, since arriving in Naples, so weird?

  Although she knew he cared for her, could he love her, too? Had he sensed the sexual tension between her and Rick? Of course! Then when Hal had slept on the couch, Thomas had been irritated, yet he’d seemed pleased when he’d thought she was jealous of Yasmine. She now realized he was right. She’d felt threatened by the woman’s presence.

  Her belly grumbled. Maybe food was what she needed after all. Besides, it provided an excellent excuse to set her thoughts aside for a while.

  She rose, wrung out her hair, and wrapped a towel around it. Quickly, she stepped out of the tub and dried herself. Sable slipped on a clean robe and wandered out into the living room.

  She halted, heart stuttering in shock.

  Cheyenne stood looking back at her.

  Lightning flickered through the balcony doors, and thunder complained overhead.