The Stroke of Midnight: A Supernatural New Year's Anthology
Page 2
Oddly, he wasn't in a rush to get any further layers off, either. It was strange. In all his years of seducing members of the opposite sex—and okay, a few of his own—he'd seen some extravagant lingerie. Lacy, silky, sexy, provocative, feathered, crotch less, and a few that made the person wearing them look like an actual fox.
None of it held a candle to Leesa in her cotton panties.
Sure, she wasn't what he'd have previously considered his ideal. But that was probably because he'd been an idiot rather than her being lacking in anyway. It was hard to consider any other alternative as he took in her toned body. He might never have thought that more subtle curves were attractive before, but damn if he didn't now. He even found himself reacting to her muscles, which were defined without jumping over the line into 'too much.'
Especially when she climbed onto the desk. Not next to him, or below him, but straddling him. Walking on her knees further and further up the desk, and subsequently him, she didn't stop her tantalizing progress until she was settled just over his still open fly. Just as slowly, she leaned down until she could whisper in his ear.
"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to wander dark dangerous places alone at night? There are wolves out there," she licked the outer shell of his ear, "who will just eat you all up."
And she set about doing just that, biting and sucking at the flesh just below his ear until his eyes rolled back into his head. When she splayed her hands across his chest, the world seemed to go still as it shrunk to just the two of them, there in that dirty office. Until the DJ announced that they'd be doing the countdown the New Year in under a minute. That kind of shattered the illusion for him.
"Fuuuuck," Leesha groaned into his neck before pushing away from him.
"What is it?" He asked as he watched her pull her sweatshirt back on. She didn't bother to zip it back up though, so all it did was frame her body. Drawing the eye to what she still wasn't wearing.
Not that she wasn't attempting to put on more clothing.
Or, at least, that's what he assumed she was doing as she turned back and forth while asking, "Fuck, where are my fucking pants?"
It didn't make any sense though. Had he done something? No, he hadn't. He couldn't possibly have, since he hadn't actually done anything. Unless that was the problem.
Just as the crowd below them began to count down to zero hour, Leesha found her pants. Not that she seemed happy about it. "Ah fuck, I've really thrown off my time table."
Though she did pause as she pulled them on to drop a kiss on his lips and whisper, "Happy New Year, little stray." The sentiment was ruined though when she stood back up finished pulling on her pants and said, "Now get the fuck out of here."
"What?" Skye asked, finally regaining the use of his vocal chords.
She didn't even bother to look up from the task of putting her shoes on when she spoke next. "Leave. Scram. Vamoose. Make yourself scarce. Get the fuck out." When the first shoe was tied, she did finally look at him with a curious expression on her face. "Actually, those are pretty ambiguous. I mean go home." She'd already gone back to shoe tying when she quantified that with, "Alone."
He blinked several times in rapid succession, but it did surprisingly little to change the scene in front of him. Leesha was still tying her shoe. He was still half lying on a desk without a shirt, pants undone. It had him so perplexed that he actually asked her, "Are you serious right now?"
"Do you really think I'd be okay with anyone else touching you?" That hadn't been what he'd meant, and really raised more questions than it answered.
A fact that directly led to his general incoherency. "But you ... But we ... What the hell, Leesha?"
"Karen," she said, as if the name clarified everything.
It didn't. Not for him anyways.
"What?"
"My name," she clarified, standing now that her shoes were tied and heading toward the door. "It's Karen. Karen Young."
It still didn't clarify things, but he was too busy scrambling to reach the door before her for his brain to actually process things like facts. "But they—"
A heavy sigh cut him off. Verbally anyways. He was about to make it to the door before her, and once he had his back planted against it he turned to look at her. The expression on her face was one of resignation. As if she knew what he was about to say, had heard it before, and didn't want to hear it again. "Yeah, it was my father's idea of a joke. He thinks he's so hilarious. Of course my idiot brothers have to agree with him all the time or the world might stop spinning, so he's never realized it."
That was the second time she'd referred to them as her family, though his research had never uncovered any such connection. Wanting to be perfectly clear, he asked her flat out. "Wait, so they really are your family?"
"Uhm, duh," she said, throwing him a look that made it clear exactly what kind of idiot she thought he was. "Why else would I have put up with their shit this long?"
"I don't know. I don't know anything." The fact settled heavy in his stomach, making him feel incredibly uncomfortable. Not because they'd almost had sex. He'd actually had sex with people he knew far less about. So he really had no idea why this should bother him so much.
Unless...
Unless it was because he actually cared about her and wanted to know something about her.
"Fair enough," she said with a casual shrug. As if it meant nothing.
It didn't though. It meant everything. How could she not see it meant everything?
"Listen, as much as I'd love to finish this, I have really do have something to do. And you really should go home."
"You cannot be serious right now." Her only response was a widening of her eyes as she reached for the door handle, casually trying to nudge him out of the way. His own eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in realization. "You are. You're actually serious right now."
"Of course I am. Shit's about to get real." The tone implied that he was an idiot, and while he would admit that he was behaving oddly, he knew he wasn't an idiot.
"I can't go home. You know I can't go home." She had to know. Didn't she? That they had something here.
"Actually, you can."
They did have something, didn't they?
It wasn't like she'd only been using him.
Was it?
Throat suddenly dry, he forced himself to ask. "You didn't fuck me just to get me to stop investigating your family, did you? Fuck. Of course you did. Why else would someone like you fuck someone like me?"
Leesha's face contorted, one eyebrow raising while the other eye squinted and her mouth just sort of hung open. Skye almost expected someone's mother to show up and threaten that it might freeze that way. "Okay, first of all, you know we didn't have sex, right?"
Not the answer he'd been looking for. All of a sudden his legs weren't quite strong enough to support his weight.
So he was sliding down the door into a sitting position when he continued speaking. "Well, yeah, but—" Not that she cared, cutting him off almost instantly.
"And secondly, I know you know how attractive you are. No one looks the way you do without knowing how attractive they are." As if her earlier facial expression hadn't been enough, she began to talk using her hands. Large sweeping gestures that would've probably ensured him a slapped face.
Had he still been standing.
"I don't—"
"Don't even try to tell me that your hair is naturally dirty blonde with honey highlights. Or that it's just happenstance that you manage to throw it up so seemingly effortlessly while avoiding looking feminine. Which has to be hard for you. Because honestly, your features are almost feminine. You're rocking the dark lashes and huge blue eyes. But you still somehow manage to look like a bad boy instead of a femme. I don't know if it's the tattoos you've scattered across your body or your piercings or--"
"Wait, you know about my piercings?"
She stopped at that, running her hands through her hair. "God, you are so stupid. I almost fucked you because you're sex on a st
ick, you fucking moron." Okay, so it wasn't a declaration of love, but he would take it. "Or you were until you turned into a needy little bitch. Seriously, that's not sexy."
He bristled.
"I am not needy."
Hand going to her forehead, she took several steps back. "Oh my god, I do not have time for this. Listen to me, Skye. I've sort of set a trap for my father and brothers so I don't have to work for their dumbasses anymore. If they catch wind of you being there, they'll assume you were in on it. And trust me, you do not want that."
That was enough to have him climbing back to his feet. "If you're in danger—"
"Are you worried about me?" She actually chuckled as she walked back towards him and kissed his cheek. "That's adorable. There's no need to be though, I can handle myself."
His bristling only intensified.
"I'm serious, Karen," he said as he stood more firmly in front of the door.
"I can see that. I don't really like it though." As if to prove her point, her lips formed a thin, flat line.
It didn't make any sense.
"So you didn't like it when I was needy and now you don't like it when I'm being assertive?"
She sighed again and moved towards the office window. The one that looked out over the warehouse allowing whoever had worked in here to see his minions, back when it had still been a place of business instead of just a place where kids went to get wasted and laid.
"You're right. I'm being a contrary bitch. I wouldn't put up with it if I were you." The sounds of the rave reached full volume again, making her have to shout in order to be heard. "In fact, if I were you, I'd just go straight home. Especially since this place is about to get raided."
And with that, she dove out of the window.
He ran to the window after her, making it just in time to see her salute before cutting a path through the gyrating crowd. In practically no time—and certainly far less time than it would take him—she reached the far edge and escaped through a steel door.
Slamming his head against the wall next to the window, he thought about what he should do. If the place was about to get raided, he needed to leave now. After all, it would take him some time to make it through the throng, and being arrested for attending an illegal underground rave while he was on his way out would be embarrassing as fuck.
Sure, the editors he was busy whoring himself out to wouldn't care, but the other photojournalists ...
They would never let him live this down. Ever. It would be, "hey remember that time you got caught with your pants down and didn't even come out with a story?" and "trust a rookie to get arrested." Or some other lame joke about how kids barely old enough to drink only wanted to party and weren't to be taken seriously.
Not that any of them would've had an idea what a rave was in the first place.
And all this was assuming she was telling the truth.
After all, she could've just been fucking with him. For all he knew she was at that very moment brokering some underhanded deal that he should be documenting on film. Or just scoring with some other guy who wasn't trying to take her family down. But assuming she was telling the truth meant that she was in danger. Even though she'd told him she'd be fine.
With a sigh, he found his shirt, did up his pants as quickly as he could.
He was going to need time to make it to that steel door.
---
As soon as the door shut behind him, Skye called himself every unfavorable name he could think of. And since the steel door managed to somehow block out much of the sound, lowering the volume level to "steady and insistent" he was actually able to hear those names too.
What he wasn't able to hear was anything that would've told him what to do now that he'd chased the girl through the door. Realistically, though, it wasn't like it was that complicated. He was in a stairwell, giving him the option of going either up or down. Since only an idiot would go below ground, limiting the number of exits, when they knew the police were on their way …
A loud snapping followed by a yowl of pain coming from below him cut off that train of thought. Especially since he knew he would follow the sound, no matter what that said about him, his intelligence, and his sanity.
It took longer than he'd wanted to tiptoe down the steps being careful not to make any significant amount of noise. So much so that by the time he found himself hovering in the shadows of the doorway, he was sure he'd missed something.
"Don't bother. It's spelled. Powerful too, since only a powerful caster would be willing to go against a pack. Do you have any idea how much this cost me?"
Probably a lot of somethings, since Leesha's—no, Karen's—father and brothers were somehow bound. Even though he could see no ropes, or chains, or even those little twisty ties you get on bags of bread. And Leesha—no, Karen—was talking nonsense.
Still old habits died hard, so even though he didn't understand what was going on, he still reached into a pocket to pull out his camera. Without bothering to mess with the settings, or adjust for darkness, or even to make sure anything was in the frame, he switched it over to the video setting and hit record. That important task taken care of, he crouched down and crawled forward from his hiding place to a stack of boxes that were just the tiniest bit closer to the action.
"Of course you don't. The four of you don't know anything about anything." Karen was prowling back and forth in front of them as they struggled in place, bound by whatever it was that he couldn't see. Had she said it was a spell?
"That's why you've always made me do everything for you. Well the gravy train stops here, my friends. End of the line. Everyone exit the car and ... well I'd tell you to take your possessions, but I'm actually going to be doing that. You probably won't need them in jail, anyway."
Perhaps he should be grateful that they'd been interrupted earlier, since she was evidently crazy. From a family of other people equally crazy judging by the way that they were still jittering in place and letting out nonsensical moans even though they weren't gagged.
Figured he finally felt something for someone and she turns out to be a nutter.
"Well, assuming you go to jail. I wonder if the Magistrate will kill you simply due to the risk of exposure associated with being arrested." She shrugged, and smiled that feral smile again. This time he recognized the blatant lust and felt a shiver go down his spine. "Guess there's only one way to find out. Have fun, father. Brothers." And with another jaunty little salute and a smile filled with almost child-like glee, she skipped off.
Not that she made it far before skidding to a halt. Tilting her head back she took several obvious sniffs. Though Skye had no idea what she was sniffing for. He took a deep breath himself but all he could smell was dank warehouse.
Was there a gas leak?
He looked back toward her for some kind of a clue, and found himself looking right into her eyes. The wall of boxes and darkness doing nothing to hide his presence from her. There was no smile any longer. It had been replaced with a severely ticked off expression, complete with hands on hips and head cocked to the side. Stalking toward him, he thought he heard her mutter, "You've got to be kidding me." Though he could have been mistaken. He'd probably been mistaken since right after that it sounded like she added, "I should've known that your scent wasn't just lingering on my skin."
Maybe his eardrums had been damaged by all the loud music from upstairs earlier.
He didn't have long to think about it, though. As soon as she was able to, she grabbed his arm and practically threw him through the doorway back into the stairwell. "Do you have any idea how stupid that was?" she asked, still looking back through the door into the basement instead of at him. Which was probably a good thing, considering how pissed off she sounded. "They could have seen you. Then what the hell would you have done?"
"I thought you said they were going to jail?" She did turn to face him then, and he wished that she hadn't since the look that was leveled at him was enough to send ice tumbling through his veins.<
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"Like a jail would actually hold them," she bit out before wrapping her hand around his upper arm so tight that his fingers started to go numb. "And besides, what would you have done when you got arrested with them and ended up in the same holding cell? Because you know that's what they do with people who get busted at these kinds of things, right?" The question was punctuated with a hard shake.
That was just about all of the abuse Skye was willing to take. "I'm not an idiot, Karen." The statement was delivered with as much of a sneer as he could muster, but it lost some of its force when he wasn't able to remove his arm from her grasp.
No matter how hard he tried shaking it.
"Are you sure? Because I'm not." He did manage to shake free after that statement, but he had the sneaking suspicion it was only because she allowed it. Probably because she didn't want to be burdened by someone she clearly thought was an idiot when she went back to the doorway to peer back into the basement. "What the fuck are you doing here, anyway?" she hissed.
"I was worried—"
But she waved her free hand in front of her face before he could continue. "Shut up, there's no time."
He wanted to tell her that he wasn't the one who'd insisted on chit chatting here, but he never had the chance. As soon as she'd made her proclamation about time, she'd grabbed him by the arm again and started dragging him up the stairs. He tried to stop her several times. First by shouting, and then by digging in his heels. All that accomplished was him tripping and her catching him just before he smashed face-first into the metal stairs.
Oh, and one really unimpressed look, rolled eyes, and a derisive shake of her head.
She didn't stop pulling until they'd made it up four flights of stairs, gone through another door, and been deposited on the roof. And that was only so she could let him go before walking to the edge of the roof, looking at the gap between the next building over and him several times, as if calculating something.
Tapping the side of her mouth, she walked back to Skye and sized him up.
Twice.
"Can you jump that?" she asked, squinting at him as she did.