Paranormally Yours: A Boxed Set

by Alisha Basso

  “Not exactly, but close,” he said, noncommittally. “Humans created language, writing, metallurgy, law, agriculture, and singing, dancing, painting and sculpture. Even alchemy, Dr. Whisk.”

  “I hadn’t thought about it that way.”

  “Their rituals and ceremonies, their spells and incantations, their prayers and sacrifices were expressions of their oneness with the source of all life, the Great Mother of all living things,” I said, toying with my salad.

  “Young lady. I think you and I need to have an extended conversation about this, but it’s time we got going. Back to work, eh, Agent Sunstrike?”

  Talon looked at me like I was his job.

  No one spoke on the way back to the FDA. I was trying to fend off Talon’s energy, not sure if it was deliberate or just natural. I hated knowing I couldn’t trust myself and, if I was being honest with myself, was sad I couldn’t lower my barriers with him.

  When we pulled up to the curb, he got out, then leaned back in. “While you’re here, you should get a tour of the place.”

  “We should go,” Nock said, tugging on me, but I couldn’t seem to make my lips move. I opened the car door and got out, following Talon like a puppy. I couldn’t see any harm in having a tour. I wasn’t sure when I might need to know the layout of the FDA. He took us through the whole facility, and we ended up back in Nock’s uncle’s lab. If I’d had my wits about me, I would have been wary, but Talon’s voice was so soothing, and he was so beautiful to look at, I simply couldn’t think straight.

  “Lily, we have to go,” Nock said urgently.

  “Before you do, if you don’t mind…” Talon said in a voice which brooked no argument, even while it sounded like he was asking permission, “…I’d like a private word with Ms. Starbuck.”

  Nock’s uncle grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and yanked him out of the lab. As the door closed behind us, I got a glimpse of the alarm on Nock’s face, but there was nothing either of them could do. We were in the FDA, and here, whatever a fae said was law. I also guessed Nock’s uncle wanted me to distract Talon so he could get the dust out of the lab and hide it. The look he gave me said as much.

  I should have taken the time to stir a defense against Talon, but I hadn’t. Now I was in the FDA, trapped in the basement with him. I was quite aware the dungeon was probably right below us. My palms started to sweat.

  He smelled so much like spring and dirt, loamy and sweet and thick, and the scent went right to the primitive part of my brain and flicked a switch. My breath caught, then came fast. I hesitated, then breathed deeply to pull his scent in deep, coating my fear of him with the sweet promise of ecstasy. It was intoxicating to a witch like me.

  “Mmhmm, you smell good.”

  He crowded me back against the door, the metal hard against my back. He never physically touched me. But, oh Break take it, I wanted him to.

  It took everything I possessed not to curl my arm around his neck and pull him close. He braced his big, strong hands on either side of my head and cocked his hip. His knowing smile turned him back into a bad boy in an expensive suit.

  “There’s something you want to tell me, isn’t there, Lily? I can call you Lily? Ms. Starbuck seems so formal.”

  I hushed out a breath at the sound of my first name on his lips. It sounded as lovely as the flower whose name I had adopted. “Sure you can.”

  The promise in his voice was powerful and needy. There was something in him that called to something in me. I knew he felt it, too. Was I somehow compelling him?

  His breath huffed out, as if he was fighting against something. I tried to find my reason, but all the blood seemed to have left my brain and gathered in other places, making it very hard to think clearly. Part of me knew that I couldn’t trust him. He had gone beyond trying to enrap me. He was enrapture.

  “I know you have secrets.” He inhaled and exhaled on a soft breath. “I want to know them. I want to know…everything. Why don’t you whisper them in my ear?”

  I started to open my mouth, to tell him at least part of the truth, part of how I had come to be so caught up in this crazy, jumbled mess Olivia had made of my life. But my eyes snagged on his mouth, his firm, fine lips, and my voice died in my throat. I couldn’t breathe, let alone talk. All I could do was stare.

  I dimly recalled that there was something important I should have been saying or doing, but for the life of me I couldn’t remember what it was. I was thinking things, but not words. Words had deserted me, leaving only images: sight touch, smell…and, finally, finally taste.

  My mouth was on his, my fingers in all that glorious, soft red hair, shocks of electricity sparking my nerve endings. He tasted like vanilla-laced cinnamon, but under that was something green, herbal, a light, clean taste like drinking spring water straight from the heart of the earth. Under all that was the taste of his skin, sweet and smooth.

  “Weren’t you supposed to be telling me something, Lily?” he murmured, his chest heaving and his eyes dazed.

  “I think so,” I said.

  “I want to hear it,” he managed, his voice strained, and I smiled as I started to weaken.

  My body demanded I say yes, I wanted to say yes. Why, I thought, hunger driving through me as I found his hard shoulders, why didn’t I just tell him about the dust? Such a small thing…And he was so deliciously beautiful, stirring my soul.

  “Everything…” he breathed, his exhalation filling me, making me whole.

  In a breathless wave, instinct rose, crushing my will. No! I panicked even as my body caved. I would sentence us all to death! He was trying to break my will. With a frightened jolt, I realized my lips had been parting to tell him…everything.

  Reality flashed through me, and on a surge of fear, I kneed him in the groin.

  He let go, falling to kneel before me, his hand cupping his crotch.

  I started at the sight of Nock standing behind Talon with the container of dust in his hands and silent laughter in his eyes. With a grin he disappeared.

  I gasped at what I had done. I’d assaulted a FDA agent, and he was well within his rights to bring me up on charges.

  He looked up at me, losing that hunched-over look. “If nothing else, this is going to be a very interesting assignment. I could press charges.”

  I stiffened. “Go ahead, dust hound, but an accusation of enrapping would look really bad on your record. Am I right?”

  He chuckled. “You don’t make it easy for me, Lily,” he said, standing painfully and placing one hand against the door. “This has officially become a very interesting assignment.”

  “And don’t think I don’t know that, Agent Sunstrike.

  Chapter Six

  Talon kept his distance after our dustup at the FDA. I hoped I had bruised him, at least a little. He would undoubtedly try to enrap me again, and soon. And unfortunately I wasn’t sure how much of it was him and how much of it was simply my attraction to him.

  It didn’t matter. Attraction or not, I needed to keep my wits about me when he was around. The FDA didn’t fool around. It was imperative that no one discover I was in possession of royal fairy dust. Where it might have come from was beyond me.

  This was Olivia’s doing. She had gotten me into this, but I was determined to keep the business that was now mine functioning.

  Thinking about Olivia made me realize that a week and a half had passed without a word from Warden Somerset. I was able to put off my creditors for now, but I had to let my employees go, still owing them money that was earned and well-deserved. I vowed I would pay them as soon as I could.

  Some were understandably angry, but I explained what had happened, and that if I could have paid them out of my own empty pockets, I would have. That appeased them, probably because they could see it was absolutely true.

  Luckily I had two more catering jobs already lined up that brought in a much-needed infusion of cash, but not enough to save me. The jackbread was an instant success, and I decided to send some of that money to Au
nt Tilly with the promise that I would visit as soon as I could.

  Aware of my circumstances, she sent it back with Nock, who sheepishly told me that she’d taken a strip off his hide for even thinking of bringing her the money, and insisted that I keep it. Nock all but begged me to keep it, so I took pity on him.

  I had already lost the shop. The landlord for the commercial property had already started legal action. He was a very kind human, offered me condolences, but explained that the shop was prime real estate. It took a day for me and Nock to sort through everything and salvage what we could. I kept my emotions tightly bound, as my anger and resentment towards Olivia warred with fond memories of how hard we’d worked to build Kitchen Witches. I still didn’t understand why this had happened, why Olivia had betrayed me, and reopened the empty place that had been filled for a while by our friendship and partnership.

  I was so busy, and so exhausted from handling the mess Olivia had left behind, I barely noticed three more days passed without any word from Warden Somerset. By the ninth day with no word or return calls, I decided to visit his St. Paul office.

  St. Paul was where most of the supernaturals lived, and the OS Headquarters was located in the western section, in what had previously been the Minnesota History Center.

  When all hell broke loose with the sundering, there had been widespread panic. The military had tried to stem the influx of supernaturals, but the sheer numbers were overwhelming. There had been a lot of casualties, but there would have been more if not for the fae. They had come into the Earth plane en mass, with a shining, breathtaking army which quelled the strife among the paranormals. The immortal fae saved the realm.

  Order restored, the fae then facilitated the organization of all the races and their leaders, leaders who came forward, each bringing their unique powers, and when they reached an accord the OS was born. Although we still lived in a democratic society for the most part, UOH was our government body. Even though traditional government was gone, each faction ruled its populace with an overarching council. The humans still elected a president. He had a voice, but did not have sovereign power.

  The southern section of St. Paul, originally home to many affluent residents, had been totally converted into what the locals called Haven’s End. It was a rough place of bars and nightclubs catering to supernaturals of all varieties, including The Realized. Whatever you wanted could be bought and sold down there. Many humans were attracted to paranormals and often put themselves willingly in their thrall, but there were strict rules about interacting with humans. It was also where illegal dust was traded.

  After pausing in front of the OS Headquarters to take a deep breath, I curled my fingers around the brass doorknob and pulled. Just as I stepped inside, I collided with someone who muttered a quick “sorry,” and moved on without stopping.

  The lobby of the former Minnesota Museum of History always impressed me. It was four stories high, and you could see up into a second floor balcony framed with overlapping planks forming a star motif. The great hall above the lobby had been carved up into offices, but it was still grand, and still seemed to resonate with the sound of couples reciting their marriage vows.

  I looked towards the expansive front desk, the light wood gleaming in the overhead lights, and saw a woman giving information to the first person in the short line at the desk while I was gawking at the beautiful lobby architecture.

  The OS was structured in a para-military hierarchy with a prime warden, down to first wardens who managed the fighting and investigative force, through the second wardens, who handled individual units within the whole.

  Several Field Unit wardens moved around the lobby. Unlike other branches of the OS, like Warden Somerset’s Investigative Unit, the Field Units were comprised of three wardens organized into a tight-knit fighting force.

  The forerunners were dressed in an eclectic mix of garments. I’d seen everything from short military-style jackets and dark jeans, to leather pants, from sexy black boots to high tops. Bold and outgoing, forerunners were not only colorful in their choice of clothing, but normally they were boisterous, quick on their feet and sociable. They were all about distraction. Their magic was potent, but not often harmful. They would be the first into the battle, disarming or diverting the foe, readying them for the second group member—the enforcer.

  The enforcers, a specialized force, stood out both by their attitude and their armament. Usually they had swords strapped across their backs or toted wicked-looking weapons in holsters and tucked into belts. They all wore sleek, tight body armor resembling black leather.

  The third member of every group was their OS shaman healer, easy to spot since they also wore leather. They wore dark tunics, the hem thick with embroidery, as well as a dark tight fitting leather pants. Some wore boots, while others were barefoot. Many of the shamans were accompanied by their etheric power animal, which radiated the mystical blue color of the astral plane from which they got their power. On closer inspection, I could see the nearest shaman’s embroidery was a replica of her ethereal power animal. They might be healers, but they wielded elemental power and were physically trained just as thoroughly as the enforcers.

  For a moment, I recalled Olivia’s murderer and the elaborate embroidery on the eerie mage’s cowl. Fleetingly, I wondered if it was important, if, like with shamans, those colorful swirls of thread had a meaning. I didn’t know much about mages. I‘d really had no need to learn, since I was a caterer, and spent my days shopping, concocting recipes, and cooking.

  Correction. I had been a caterer. I once had a thriving and successful business I had worked damn hard to build. Now I was just a cook for hire.

  I approached the reception desk, settling into my place in line. My mind tilted and swirled with all I had to do today, and I huffed out a small puff of exasperation. This was Olivia’s fault. If she hadn’t gotten herself murdered, everything would still be fine. I shook myself. What an unkind and nasty thought! I was immediately contrite.

  I shifted onto my other foot and hefted my bag to a better perch on my shoulder. I felt mild irritation at the slowness of the line. When I reached the woman and she smiled at me, I couldn’t seem to muster the good will to smile back.

  “May I help you?”

  She was human, and seemed quite at ease with the many races mingling in the lobby. Any human who wished to become a warden had to be a borderline supernatural being, one who straddled the fence between human and paranormal entities. Their abilities varied, depending on the source of their power, whether it was inherited, a human genetic fluke, or the gift of a small number of supernatural genes from one or more paranormal relatives.

  Some humans simply used the sheer will of their minds to guide their bodies to paranormal power. They could have differing degrees of super strength, super speed, enhanced senses, psychic powers, and various mystical martial arts powers. Once some gained access to the supernatural world, they found ways to enhance their power or ascended to higher levels. Some might become witches, shamans or mages, learned classes of magic wielders. Those choosing not to pursue the magical arts might become lower-level demon slayers, blood wolf hunters, or some other form of soldier in a paranormal profession fighting the forces of evil. Sadly, others chose to become a force of evil.

  “I’m looking for Warden Somerset.” That niggling bit of irritation flared when she held up one finger and answered the phone. I gripped my bag tighter to keep from snapping at her. Wow, I must be under a lot of pressure and stress if a receptionist doing her job made me mad.

  After several moments, she hung up. “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No. I’ve left messages, but he hasn’t called me back.” My voice was clipped and a bit cold, to the point that I was shocked at my tone and tried to stifle the anger leaking out. I shouldn’t be taking it out on a woman I didn’t even know.

  She frowned. “That is odd. All of our wardens are very responsive, and Warden Somerset especially so.” She consulted her computer a
nd then looked at me. “He is at his desk in the Investigative Unit.”

  She handed me a visitor’s badge and pointed me toward the left, where people were filing through a bottleneck. Two OS witches stood by a device monitoring it. Another line! My irritation flared again, and I had to pause a moment to control it before I lost my temper.

  “Go through that checkpoint and take the elevator to the third floor. He’s located in Room 317, an open area straight across from the elevator.

  I nodded my thanks and slipped the visitor’s badge over my head.

  The OS was protected by powerful wards. The law enforcers here didn’t like surprises, and no magic was permitted within the walls. Except for gnomes. Their magic was part of the earth and it was difficult to keep them from coming and going as they pleased.

  I took my place in line and waited for my turn behind a warden who had what looked like a short Roman sword which, rather than being strapped across his back, hung at his side in an elaborate and beautifully detailed scabbard. He had muscular arms, and big hands which would easily wield the tapered steel blade. The ornate handle and tang were polished ebony and the blade was well cared for. In some battles, this type of weapon was the only thing standing between the warden and a horrible end.

  When my turn came, I huffed another annoyed breath. I stepped forward and was surprised when one of the witches reached out to stop me. My instant urge was to grab her hand and twist it until I heard the bones break. Shocked at my thoughts, I stood very still with my hands at my sides. I needed to decompress as quickly as possible. I hadn’t arrived in this state, so something must have set me off. I didn’t seem to be able to shake this insidious, creeping rage. I turned to look at the witch while she studied the machine and frowned. Then she glanced at me again and waved me forward.

  Maybe some residue of magic from the Torrent still lingered. Either way, the dampers in the building should prevent me from using anything, including the Torrent. But this was the OS If I wasn’t safe here…well, I wasn’t safe anywhere.