by Amy Sumida
“Faulin who don't kill?” Kyrian scoffed. “They must be good at cleaning up after themselves.”
“I don't know,” I murmured. “Cyprian told us that the reason he formed the club was to give his people a non-fatal way to feed. With so many humans congregating to luxuriate in lust, the Faulin can take a little from each and not have to bind humans and ultimately kill them.”
Kyrian considered this. “If it's true, it's ingenious.”
“The U.S. Government believes it's true,” Connolly said. “Dirty Nothings, its owner, and its employees have all been investigated several times and never found to be anything but what they appear to be; law-abiding citizens.”
“Investigations or not, I'm surprised that America allows Faulin to operate here,” Kyrian said.
“Frankly, we believe that the Faulin persuaded the founding fathers to tolerate them and then were sort of grandfathered into society,” Connolly said. “When we finally got around to regulating alien activity on Earth, we looked into them, but their apparent innocence combined with the amount of taxes they pay grants them leeway. Not that we'd look the other way if something nefarious occurred, but the risk of having them here has been determined to be worth the benefits.”
“The benefits.” I chuckled. “Sex and money.”
Connolly shrugged. “The point is; I wasn't able to find any clue as to who the man you followed there may be or what he could be doing with the Faulin. We'll just have to continue to monitor the club.”
“Fair enough,” I said.
“And now, we come to my news,” Connolly said with a heavy look. “There have been sightings of strange creatures in the city.”
“Creatures?” Jason asked.
“The word most often used is 'monster,'” Connolly said with a grimace. “And there has been an attack.”
“A monster attack?” Lily frowned. “Is it one of our people? A shapeshifter perhaps?”
“I don't think so.” Connolly set a tablet down on the table and brought up a video. “We have records on all of the Supes in the Market and none of them can change into this.”
Connolly pressed Play, and we all leaned forward to watch a recording of a downtown D.C. sidewalk. Pedestrians walked briskly through the rain; heads down and shoulders hunched. Several carried umbrellas that spotted the gloom with garish colors and designs. It was a normal scene. Until something charged out of an alley and into the street.
All of us gasped as the creature turned about and roared; lifting mottled arms to claw at the sky. Cars came to screeching stops around it; startling it and causing it to shriek at the drivers. One man tried to drive around it, and the thing bashed into the car, shattered the windshield, and dragged the man out. As he beat on the driver, everyone else fled. If it hadn't been for some brave street cops who hurried up and shot the thing—over and over until it died—the driver would have been killed.
“What the fuck was that?” Davorin whispered after the video ended.
“Our lab is currently conducting an autopsy on the creature,” Connolly said. “But we know that it came from the gray area.”
“Oh, my,” I whispered.
“I thought you had a watch posted on the Gray?” Davorin asked. “How did that thing manage to get past them?”
“The policeman on duty confronted the creature after calling it the sighting,” Connolly explained. “The creature attacked him. He was knocked unconscious but survived. It's how we know where the creature came from.”
“Have you gotten anything from the flower?” Kyrian asked.
“Only that it isn't a species known to exist on Earth. Granted, that doesn't mean it isn't an undiscovered species; new plants and animals pop up all the time. But I've never heard of them being found in the middle of a bustling city. Usually, it's somewhere remote like the Australian Outback or the Amazon.” Connolly sighed. “Our scientists are conducting a few more experiments and then I'll bring it back to you.”
“Fine.” Kyrian gave us all a heavy look.
“This has become about more than monitoring the area for a spread of the gray,” Connolly said. “I need all of you out there; watching the streets for any more of these creatures. If possible, take them alive.”
“And how do you expect us to do that?” Lily huffed.
“Agent Lane?” Connolly waved at one of the escorts he'd brought along. Normally, he came alone, but the creature threat must have prompted the backup.
Agent Lane was a blond woman with her hair neatly pulled back in a ponytail. She had on a tailored suit and the usual agent expression; which is really a careful lack of expression. She set a large, steel case on the table; right atop Connolly's papers.
“Thank you,” Connolly murmured as he opened the case. “We have a set like this for each of you; guns and tranquilizers cartridges. The tranquilizer is potent enough to put down a woolly mammoth.”
Connolly waved at the silver gun and liquid-filled cartridges. Then he snapped the case shut and handed it to Malik. As he did, other agents brought forward six more cases and set them down on the floor beside the table.
“I assume that all of you can figure out how to use the guns,” Connolly said.
“I've used those before,” Landry said as he stepped up behind me. “I can show them how to load and shoot if they're unfamiliar with them. It's fairly simple.”
“Good. Thank you, Landry.” Connolly nodded crisply. “I need to get back and see how the autopsy is going. I'll call the rest of you with any updates.”
Connolly stood, gathered his photos and papers, placed them back in his briefcase, nodded to us, and left with his entourage. Perhaps he'd simply needed them to carry the cases.
“Time to go hunting,” Davorin said with a smirk.
Chapter Eighteen
There were only seven of us and we had to cover the entire D.C. area both night and day. We'd have DHS agents for backup; they'd be scouting in roaming vehicles and would alert us to any sightings. But even with their help we still had to split up into two groups—a day and night shift—and then patrol individually. Malik didn't like the idea of my scouting alone, but I pointed out that I was hardly defenseless—having been put on the team for my supe skills—and he had to concede.
We decided that Malik, Leo, and I would take the day shift while Lily, Jason, Davorin, and Kyrian would take night. We wanted more people on night because that's when the attack had occurred. Landry showed us how to load and use our tranquilizer guns—Kyrian and Malik were familiar with weaponry enough to figure it out for themselves—and then we packed up and headed out.
I had my gun and tranquilizer cartridges in my Gucci bucket bag. It went with my black, leather, knee-high boots, snug jeans, and thin, cashmere sweater. Over that, I had on a black wool coat. The rain had stopped but it was still chilly out.
I said goodbye to Leo and Malik at the red, Chinese arch that served as both the entrance to the Supemarket and an anchor for the ward that hid and protected it. Leo got into a cab to head to his assigned area, but Malik and I lingered over a goodbye kiss.
“If you see that Faulin, you run,” Malik murmured as he smoothed my hair back from my face.
“The chances of me running into him are slim.” I rubbed a fingertip over the worried line of Malik's lips. “But if I see him, I'll handle him.”
“No; don't handle him, just run,” Malik growled.
“Mal, I turned his lust back on him once, I can do it again. I'd rather face him and finish it than have to worry about him coming at me again.”
“Faulin have more tricks than a street magician.” Malik shook his head. “Don't test your luck with him. A confrontation with him wouldn't just be dangerous, it would also be unnecessary. Focus on your patrol.”
“All right,” I finally agreed just to get him to back down. “Can I go now?”
Malik sighed deeply. “I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a... what do you call them?”
“Chauvinist pig?” I asked sweetly. “A caveman? A complet
e asshole?”
Malik laughed. “Yes; any of those. I don't mean to be condescending or possessive. I'm still on edge after our experience at Dirty Nothings.”
“I know, darling,” I murmured. “It will be all right. Let's just get through our shift and then we can have a lovely evening together.”
“Deal,” he said with a smile.
Malik waved down a cab for me and helped me into the back seat.
“See you in a few hours,” he said as he shut the door.
I nodded and waved goodbye.
“Damn; that's a big guy,” the cabbie said as he pulled us into traffic. “He your boyfriend?”
“Yes; he is.” Saying it made my chest warm and happy.
I smiled all the way to Cleveland Park. We had divided D.C. into three sections. I took the upper swath that was Northwest of Chinatown (where the Supemarket is), Davorin had taken the lower Southeast, and Malik had the middle. Malik chose the middle because it was where the Gray was; off K Street and down from City Center. He thought that was the section with the greatest risk and immediately volunteered for it. So, he wasn't taking a cab; simply going for a stroll while keeping his government-issued cellphone handy.
The cab dropped me off on Connecticut Avenue, and I clicked my way down the sidewalk past shops, restaurants, and the Uptown; a movie theater that's been there since the thirties. I walked for a bit, shivering despite my coat, and finally decided that patrolling an area didn't have to mean actually walking around it for hours. I could watch the street while sitting comfortably and enjoying a hot beverage; policemen did it all the time. Plus, I was feeling a little peckish. I wandered into an Italian restaurant and asked for a window seat.
It was an off-hour and the place was deserted so the waiter didn't mind giving me a prime spot despite my dining alone. I had a lovely lunch and then lingered over coffee and tiramisu. The entire time, I kept my phone on the table and carefully watched the busy street. So, I had time to prepare for a confrontation before he even walked in the door.
Cyprian Alexander.
Of course. I felt as if my discussion with Malik had conjured him. Like thinking of an old friend and having them suddenly call. It made me feel partially responsible for his appearance and not the least bit surprised by it. This was how my life generally went; the happier I was, the more the world tried to destroy my happiness. But then, that's life in general, isn't it? Sorry; that's my cynical nature rearing its ugly head. I'm trying to be better but cynicism is a hard habit to break.
Cyprian sat down across from me with a smug smile. He was dressed down today or perhaps I should say up. He had on a pair of worn jeans with a thick, fisherman's sweater that looked as if it was imported from Ireland. Over that was a black peacoat with polished brass buttons. The gleaming strands of his hair looked like spun snow over the inky darkness of his coat and the pale column of his throat looked more golden against the cream sweater. His cheeks had a healthy flush from the biting air, and his shamrock eyes were vibrant in the daylight.
The Faulin swept back a swath of platinum hair that was slipping down over his right eye and then leaned his chin on his palm to regard me pensively. “You are a hard woman to find, Amaranthine Madison.”
“I prefer Amara,” I murmured.
The waiter came over and offered Cyprian a menu; giving me a moment to process. He knew my real name; that implied a fair bit of research. Did the challenge of an uninterested woman intrigue him simply because he was bored? The man lived in a sex club; he owned it and looked like a walking orgasm. The pursuit of women had probably stopped being a sport for him years ago. In fact, the man was most likely so jaded that he truly did need all those whips and chains just to arouse himself enough to get off. Then I show up; a woman able to resist his charms—both physical and faulin charms—who is completely happy with her man. If there was one thing I understood, it was jaded cynicism, and I suddenly knew that I was more than a challenge to Cyprian; I was a lifeline thrown to a drowning man. He needed me to feel something again, even if it was merely the thrill of the chase.
Too bad saving him would mean destroying myself. I may be willing to risk my life to save the world, but I was not a martyr. I was not sinking my ship to reel him in. I'd sooner let the Faulin drown.
“Just coffee and whatever this lovely dessert is.” Cyprian waved at my tiramisu as he ordered.
The waiter hurried off.
I had searched Cyprian's aura while he'd been distracted, and I had been having my epiphany. His colors were predominately the poppy of excitement and a gleeful dandelion but there was also an edge of blushing pink; a flirtatious color that had me frowning. His base tones were there too; the mysterious aubergine and determined walnut I'd noted at his club. But this was hardly the aura of a psycho stalker, and I couldn't bring myself to be afraid of him. It might be a huge mistake, but I wasn't going to run as Malik had suggested. I was fairly certain that I knew Cyprian's game now—his goal and motivations—and I also knew I'd win. There was no amount of flirting or practiced seduction that could lure me away from Malik. When a cynic finally falls for a man, she falls hard.
“I won't bother asking how you found me,” I said in a bored tone. And I didn't bother letting him know that I knew his full name as well. I'd hold onto that information for a better time. “That's far too cliché for my taste.”
“Oh, good; I hate clichés.” Cyprian licked his lips and leaned back in his seat. “And let's not waste time going over what we know about each other. I'm sure your Bleiten lover has warned you about us devious Faulin. I could spend hours trying to dissuade you from whatever common misconceptions he's told you. I could tell you how my people and I have fled a harsh regime in search of somewhere we can live peacefully. That what your Bleiten calls manipulations are simply the tools we've learned to use to survive. And you could tell me all about the hardships of your own life. How difficult it was to lose your parents so young and how your special abilities saved your life. How the Triari and Bleiten fought over your blood until they discovered it was useless to them.”
I gaped at him; he'd managed to shock me even after I thought I had him pegged. “Who told you that?”
“Faulin are very good at hiding.” He waved his hand flippantly. “Which also makes us very good at finding hidden things; information, treasure, people... whatever takes our fancy.”
“Okay, you know who I am.” I recovered. “What do you want?”
“The same thing I asked for when we first met. I want to know what you want,” he purred and leaned forward.
Cyprian's eyes gleamed as they searched mine. But he had to sit back when the waiter came with his coffee and dessert. He nodded his thanks to the man and then casually fixed his coffee.
“Why did you come into my club, Amara?” Cyprian glanced up at me. “What were you after? And don't try to tell me that you and your lover were interested in spicing up your sex life. Oh, you definitely enjoyed what I taught you, but that wasn't what you were there for. You were looking for someone, weren't you?”
I went still. Then I forced myself to pick up my coffee and take a sip. The game was on. I'd lost a few points by allowing him to see my surprise, but I wouldn't make the same mistake twice.
“I've been trying to figure it out.” Cyprian sipped his coffee as well. Then he placed it down with a loud clink. “Your little search of the fantasy rooms, the way you toyed with me and drew me in, and then your flirtatious request to look at the security monitors. It didn't take long for me to realize that you weren't after kink; you were after a target. Weren't you, Spectra?”
I clenched my jaw to keep my face from going slack.
“Yes,” he said gleefully, “I know all about FEAR; your team, not the emotion. There's not a lot that makes me afraid anymore. But I do enjoy inspiring fear occasionally. Just the safe sort, a little trepidation to make the heart race and bring a lovely flush to the cheeks. Are you afraid of me, Amara? Is your heart racing?”
Cyprian's leg stre
tched out beneath the table and rubbed against mine. I refused to give him the satisfaction of pulling away. He smiled sensuously and breathed in deeply; his eyes fluttering closed briefly as they'd done in Dirty Nothings. Then Cyprian took a forkful of tiramisu and slowly slipped it into his mouth. He took his time savoring it as he stared at me, and then he licked his lips as if he were enjoying something far more delicious than dessert.
“Since you're so good at discovering secrets, I'm sure you don't need me to tell you who I was looking for,” I said calmly as I finally pulled my leg away from his.
