by Cat Marsters
Sundown Investigations 1: East Side Story
Cat Marsters
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Copyright ©2007 Cat Marsters
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ISBN: 978-1-59596-546-2
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Sundown Investigations 1: East Side Story
Cat Marsters
Faeries and vampires hate each other. Everyone knows that. So why does Ruarc of the Unseelie have a vampire in his bed?
Maria knows she’s supposed to hate faeries, but she has no idea why. So far, Ruarc’s saved her life, fed her the most potent blood she’s ever tasted, and given her the best orgasm of her life.
But something’s after Ruarc, something dark and nasty, and it certainly isn’t going to let one fledgeling vampire stop it.
Chapter One
For the second time in as many weeks, the water glass on Ruarc’s desk shattered.
“Chloe,” he yelled.
A whimper was his reply. Ruarc stood up, sighing, and left his office for Chloe’s. When he opened the door, it was to see her sprawled across the desk, totally naked, luscious thighs spread for the man driving his thick cock into her.
“You know,” Ruarc said, leaning in the doorway, “a less tolerant boss might complain about you two having sex on company time.”
“That’s… because…” Chloe panted in reply, “he wouldn’t… be invited… to join in.”
“This is true,” Ruarc said. “However he also wouldn’t, and this is crucial, be unable to keep a water glass on his desk for fear of it breaking whenever his colleagues felt like doing the naughty.”
“Sorry,” Chloe gasped.
Ruarc rolled his eyes. He’d already had the windows in the whole office replaced with some techno substance that wouldn’t shatter so easily. He’d told the workmen it was because they were going to be recording loud music there. Not because they had a siren on staff.
“Do you want to?” Alexius said, in between thrusts.
“Want to…?”
“Join in?”
His cock stirred. “I have work to do.”
Chloe sat up, rubbing her pert breasts against Alexius’s chest and pouting at Ruarc. “For fifteen minutes? You look so tense.” She beckoned him closer. “It’s good for what ails you.”
Ruarc glanced out at the main office. They still didn’t have a secretary, so if anyone came by there’d be no one to greet them… which was pretty unprofessional. But…
“We’ll both lick you,” Chloe said, and Ruarc was unfastening his fly before he’d even thought about it.
Chloe wriggled to her feet, Alexius’s cock popping out of her, and went to her knees by the leather chair facing the desk as Ruarc took a seat there.
“You don’t mind?” Ruarc said, glancing at Alexius as Chloe rubbed her breasts over his thigh.
“I’m Greek,” he said, as if that explained it. Which Ruarc supposed it might: Alexius’s father was an Olympian god, and in his day it had actually been fashionable to take a male lover.
Chloe’s tongue danced over Ruarc’s cock, which leapt to attention. He closed his eyes and eased his legs further apart as Alexius knelt down and joined in the fun. Theoretically, Chloe and Alexius were a committed couple, but they were also highly sexual beings who often relished a third party.
Since Ruarc had been instrumental in the forming of their relationship, he was often invited to be that third party. He rarely refused. Hell, it wasn’t as if he had the time to go out finding his own thrills.
Alexius’s tongue found Ruarc’s balls, and he sighed. Although, maybe he ought to try. They were both excellent lovers, but…
…he so often felt like a third wheel.
Right then Chloe took him fully in her mouth, which she could open unfeasibly wide, and he let out a gasp. Having one mouth on him was stimulating enough, but two was incredible. While Chloe sucked him deep, Alexius ran his tongue in circles around Ruarc’s balls, making him see stars. His hands clutched the arms of the chair. His toes curled. “Sweet merciful --”
Ruarc of the Unseelie! To me, now!
His eyes flew open at the voice inside his head. The coldest, most commanding voice he’d ever heard.
The Queen’s voice.
Chloe’s fingers massaged the base of his cock and it took him a second to formulate his reply.
On my way, my lady.
Chloe looked up at him, her lips still framing his penis. She’d heard the mind-spoken words. A frown creased her perfect brow. Who are you --?
“I have to go.” Ruarc pushed her away from him, nudged Alexius with his knee. They both looked up at him with frowns and wet lips. Hell, he wanted to stay here and get his cock sucked! “The Queen wants me.”
“We want you,” Chloe teased.
Ruarc groaned. “Don’t. I really have to go.” Not for the first time, he wished he had a telekinetic talent. He knew plenty of fae who could dress -- or undress -- themselves with a thought. He had to shove himself back into his clothes, willing his hard-on to go down. It didn’t take much effort. The thought of visiting the Court always put a damper on things.
He straightened his tie, wondering belatedly why he bothered. It wasn’t as if the Queen would care, or even notice.
“Have fun,” Chloe said, already back in Alexius’s arms.
“Doubtful.”
“Good luck,” Alexius offered, more sensibly.
“Thanks.” Ruarc closed his eyes, cleared his mind of the curses against Queen and Court which had been flowing through his head, and concentrated.
Every faery had different skills. Some could teleport. Some were telekinetic. Most could fly. Some, especially Wildfae or those of lesser rank in the courts, had no particular gifts. But every single one could take themselves from the mortal realm to Faery.
When Ruarc opened his eyes, he was standing in a marble hall, vaulted columns arching so high overhead they were partly obscured by clouds. He couldn’t see the walls. The Queen changed the proportions of the hall all the time anyway. The air was dark, cold. The marble gleamed like the blue-tinged skin of a corpse.
Ruarc had always hated the Unseelie Court. Now was no exception.
Mist curled around his ankles. His breath fogged the air until he remembered to stop breathing like a human, and act like a faery.
He strode forward, and as he did his clothing changed from a modern suit and tie to a pair of soft leather breeches, cloud-colored, low-riding. Dark boots, reaching to mid-thigh, replaced his Italian brogues. Straps criss-crossed his chest, securing the gossamer cloak streaming behind him. His hair, trimmed last week to a rough collar-length, lengthened and flowed down his back.
The Queen didn’t approve of modern clothing. She did, however, like her men half-naked. If she
didn’t like what she saw, she simply changed it.
Her throne loomed out of the chilling mist. Thronging it was a crowd of tall, gleaming men and women, dark-skinned and light, but all of a cool hue. Glacial blonde, blue-tinged black. Their clothing was similar to Ruarc’s. Their eyes were cold.
Ruarc tried to forget the terror he’d felt the first time he came to the Court as a child. The disdain of the High Court fae for his low-born parents. The way he’d been thrust forward like a dog doing tricks. The stares of the Court as they realized what he was, what he could do.
They’d stared at him like a creature in a zoo.
Well, he was through with zoos.
The Queen lounged on a throne carved of ice. Her pale skin glowed almost blue in the dim light. Her eyes were the color of ice. She was naked, her thighs spread, one arm curled around the shoulders of a muscular fae licking her breasts.
Ruarc schooled his expression to bland obedience. He didn’t let her see his resentment at being pulled from his own sex games to watch hers.
“My lady,” he swept his cloak into a bow, “I am your servant.”
Her cold eyes met his, chased away the last of the human warmth in his skin. “You are late.”
“Apologies, my lady.” He didn’t offer an excuse. He couldn’t lie to her anyway.
The Unseelie Queen regarded him for a long moment. Her eyes took in every iron scar on his chest, his arms, his cheek. He felt the apprehension of the Court as once again they recognized what he was. The Queen’s telepath. The mind-speaker. The fae caught and trapped for five years, ignored by the Queen until those iron scars had nearly killed him.
Ruarc stood still, waiting, not reacting -- but something tugged at his attention. Some warmth. Fear. Unmasked emotion.
He didn’t turn his head, but he felt the two humans to his right, concealed by the crowd of silent fae.
You will do something for me, the Queen said inside his head.
Yes, my lady.
Her expression never changed. Neither did his. The fae between her thighs continued licking her breasts. The watching fae remained silent.
You will read these humans.
The fae parted, and Ruarc allowed himself to turn. Two humans, a young man and woman, stood clutching each other and shivering. Their eyes were wide, darting around, terrified.
My lady, I cannot read their thoughts. Not unless they mind-speak them to me.
Then make them mind-speak.
I cannot.
It wasn’t a direct lie. Faeries couldn’t lie. But it was the truth as Ruarc saw it. To go into the minds of these humans and force their secrets out would be something similar to rape. Ruarc had never tried to do it. He didn’t want to know if it was possible. But he had promised to himself that he would never attempt it.
A faery couldn’t break his word.
You can read the… how do you put it? The shape of their thoughts.
Yes. That wasn’t intrusive. Like shaking a birthday present to see what was inside, but not actually opening it. That is possible, he allowed.
Then do it.
He didn’t even need to try. They are very frightened, he told her.
The Queen’s expression still did not change, but with a slight pressure of her hand, she pushed the male faery down until he was licking between her thighs. Her nipples stood up, tight and hard, the freezing air crystallizing the moisture there.
Ruarc didn’t react.
I know that they are frightened. Their emotions do not lie. Her eyes flickered in disgust over the human couple, who huddled closer to each other. But their words do.
Of course. Humanity’s sole advantage over the fae. Lies came easily to them.
What does my lady wish to know? Ruarc asked, depressed.
They have something that belongs to me. It is hidden. Find out where it is.
They stole something from you? Ruarc was surprised. The Queen so rarely went into the mortal realm, and these two didn’t have anything about them to suggest they were capable of making their own way to Faery.
They have failed to deliver something which was promised.
Ruarc hesitated, forming his reply carefully. My lady, I must know what it is before I try to find its location.
The Queen arched her back as her lover slipped his fingers inside her slick pussy.
Their child, she said. They promised me their first-born child.
Chapter Two
The building was all but closed down when Maria stepped out of the elevator onto the floor housing Sundown Investigations. The wide corridor ended in huge windows overlooking Central Park, the trees like hulking beasts in the darkness.
For a long second she stared, wondering what it looked like in the daylight. Then she shook herself, scowled at her own foolishness, and approached the clear glass door etched with the company name.
Inside, there was an empty reception area. No one sat behind the large desk, or on the luxurious leather sofas. A couple of exotic plants stood unadmired. A sculpture rose from a nest of foam chippings.
“Hello?” Maria called. The door had been open; their office hours ran late. “Is there anyone here?”
A giggle answered her, and then the deep rumble of a man’s voice. Maria squared her shoulders and waited.
Hell, this place looked expensive. A huge widescreen computer monitor stood on the unmanned desk. The chair facing it was one of those top-of-the-line executive models. Well, what did she expect on the Upper East Side? Cracked windows and cigarette butts on the carpet?
I can’t afford this. Maria found herself backing toward the exit when one of the office doors opened and a slender woman in an expensively cut suit tripped out, laughing.
Her hair was a glossy blonde curtain. Her shoes were designer and vertiginously high. Her nails gleamed with an expensive manicure. Maria curled her own bitten nails into her palms and buffed the scuffed toe of her shoe on the back of her jeans. She was way outclassed here. What the hell had she been thinking, even coming to this part of town?
Then the blonde swung her elegant head around, and Maria felt as if she’d been sucker-punched. “Chloe?”
Chloe’s exquisitely made-up eyes lit up. “Oh my gods, Maria! Alexius, come see! It’s Maria!”
Maria stood frozen. Chloe rushed over and threw her arms around her. “It’s so good to see you! How are you? What are you doing in New York? I didn’t even know you were here!”
Over Chloe’s expensively-clad shoulder, Maria saw a golden blond man lean in the office doorway. He was dressed as expensively as Chloe and gleamed with the same good health.
Maria sniffed. The two of them smelled like sex. Which figured, since the last time she’d seen them both, that’s what they’d been doing.
“Hi,” she said, cautiously.
Alexius smiled warmly. “Hi, Maria. How’ve you been?”
Poor, frightened, and hungry, Maria thought. And angry. Burningly angry.
“Fine,” she said. “I haven’t been in New York all that long. I, er…”
Her accent sounded stronger, too strong. It always did when she was stressed. Seventy years with fangs and inhuman strength, and she still sounded like she’d just crossed the border.
“I…” she began again.
Chloe stepped back and Alexius slung his arm around her. They looked like a magazine cover, expensive and beautiful.
“I…”
I could never afford this.
“I…just came by…” she said slowly, “to say hola.” She gave a wave.
They looked unconvinced.
“I haven’t been in the city long,” she repeated. “I don’t know any other… uh…”
“Paranormals?” Chloe smiled. “There are more than you think. The Seelie prince lives here with his family, during the summer at least. He’s gone south now that the weather’s colder.”
“Fae?” said Maria.
“Yes. Oh, I forgot. You’re a vampire.”
Maria raised her eyebrows.
Maria had no idea. She only knew that the fae she’d met hadn’t been particularly kind to her. “We just don’t,” she said shortly.
“Good job you weren’t here earlier,” Alexius said. “The guy who runs this place is fae.”
“Ruarc,” Chloe put in. “Remember him? From the zoo?”
Disgust churned inside Maria. “Yes,” she said, her lip curling and her fangs extending, “I do.”
Ruarc ran his hands over his face as if he could wash it. Damn, he hated dealing with the Court. The Queen and her games, her bargains, her convoluted promises.
Their first-born child. Since the couple hadn’t planned on having children, they hadn’t baulked at the bargain. But the Queen, of course, did not like to be cheated. The baby had been born a week ago. Five years to the day after the human woman had begged for her husband’s life after the car accident which had nearly killed him.
His life, for the child’s. Ruarc had finally extracted the story from them, not through mind manipulation but by talking. And then he’d sat and thought long and hard about a way to get them out of it. Blocking everyone but the human couple from his thoughts, he’d finally said to them, Did she ever say how long she wanted the child for?
She hadn’t. And since the couple had one card left to play -- that of the baby’s location -- Ruarc had advised them to strike one further bargain. They would give her the location of the baby, if she promised to return it after one human week and never interfere in any of their lives again.
The Queen hadn’t been happy with that. Not happy at all. But since it was the only way to get her hands on the kid, she’d eventually complied.
Ruarc accompanied the Queen’s messenger back to the mortal realm with the humans, to a suburban house in Canada, and watched the couple hand over the child.
One week, he told them. She could have taken him forever.
The woman sobbed broken-heartedly.
He won’t be harmed, Ruarc assured her. This he knew to be true. The fae loved children, doted upon them. Even, as was evidenced tonight, occasionally stole them.
