by Nina Bangs
Scowling at Daria one last time, he handed over his keys and ambled away. Everyone gave a collective sigh of relief.
“He’s a were of some kind.” Kal shifted his gaze to Daria. “I think I’ll wander over to the parlor too. See what’s happening there. Will you be okay?”
“Sure.” Maybe. Daria was beginning to see why Ganymede wanted someone mean and ugly. If the inn’s nonhuman guests were like Mel—who probably shifted into a bull elephant—then he’d need someone with an intimidation factor of ten. The ugly part? Ugly added to her perceived menace. Perceptions were important.
Sparkle beckoned for Daria to follow her. “You’re about the same size as me. Let’s see if we can find something else for you to wear.” She held up her hand before Daria could object. “And no, you don’t have a choice. Each summer Mede and I run the Woo Woo Inn while the owners go on vacation. Mede may’ve hired you, but he doesn’t always think in terms of guest satisfaction.”
Daria was feeling a little surly. “He specified ugly. Well, ugly is a package deal. It’s not just about my face. Get rid of my dress and boots, and part of what makes me me is gone.”
She caught Sparkle’s muttered “Thank God.”
Reluctantly, Daria followed Sparkle to her room. She couldn’t afford to defy the cosmic troublemaker just yet. Daria made sure she shielded her thoughts before allowing herself a few indulgent fantasies. All the fantasies involved Daria carrying a kicking and screaming Sparkle Stardust off to Tartarus. She glanced down at Sparkle’s stilettos. Hades didn’t stock designer shoes in the underworld. The thought made her smile.
Once inside Sparkle’s room, Daria forgot about everything. She turned in a slow circle. “This is…”Words failed her.
“Sex is my thing, sister. I’m the best at what I do in the cosmic troublemaker world.”
“And that would be?” Daria exhaled deeply, trying to relax before the sexual overload made her head explode. Paintings that were way beyond explicit hung from the walls. Candlelight reflected off red silk and velvet everything. The scents of sex and desire filled the air. And if she were anything other than a mean and ugly harpy, the soft music would’ve made her want to perform exotic and kinky acts on the first male she met.
“I bring sexual chaos to the world.” Sparkle flung open her closet and scanned the contents. “First I find two people who’re completely wrong for each other.” She glanced over her shoulder and offered Daria a sly smile. “Then I manipulate them. By the time I’m finished, they’re so into lust I have to stamp ‘Superheated Combustible’ on their bare butts.”
Daria made a rude noise. “You can only do that if you’re dealing with weak humans.”
Sparkle’s smile widened, revealing straight white teeth. Daria wondered if she’d been a shark in a previous incarnation.
“I’m sure you’d be a lot stronger than any human. Why don’t we place a small wager on exactly how strong you are, hmm?” Sparkle pulled a few things off their hangers before bending down to choose a pair of shoes.
Daria had opened her mouth to say no and then closed it. Kal was always reminding her to think before she acted. It wouldn’t hurt to listen. “What kind of wager?” Was she suspicious? You bet.
“At the end of each night, we’ll get together. If you survive the night without a lustful act, you can make me do one thing.” Sparkle thought about that. “Let’s amend that. You can make me do something that doesn’t involve seduction. I’m the string-puller, not the puppet. Besides, Mede’s my guy.” She dumped the clothes over a chair and put the shoes on the floor. “If you give in to temptation, I get to improve you in some small way.” Her voice sounded only mildly interested as she once again studied her nails.
Daria knew she should say no, but she’d never made a bet with anyone in her entire existence. And this was way too easy to pass up. Besides, it would give her a chance to practice random acts of cruelty. Mom always said she’d never make a true harpy until her heart was as small and hard as a prune pit.
“You have a deal.” Daria walked over to get a better look at the clothes Sparkle had chosen. “So what are my duties?”
Sparkle stepped between her and the clothes. “Oh, this and that. Basically just make sure the inn is running smoothly and the guests are happy.” She pushed Daria toward the bathroom. “Go in and take off your clothes. Hand them out to me and I’ll give you your new outfit.”
Daria wasn’t dumb. She pretty much figured Sparkle didn’t want her to see the clothes because she knew Daria would hate them. It didn’t matter. She’d play the game. And when she came out of the bathroom, she’d grab her own clothes, run up to her room, and change again. Then she’d try to avoid Sparkle for the rest of the night.
Once inside the bathroom, she stripped, handed her clothes out to Sparkle, and then slipped into the black silk pants and purple top before putting on the gold sandals. Ugh. Mom’s screams would be heard all the way from Tartarus if she could see her only daughter in this outfit.
And she just might, because Daria knew there was a judge planted among the inn’s guests, someone who’d be grading her during these two weeks, or as long as it took her to capture her prey. It wouldn’t be another harpy. Too obvious. She just hoped that he, she, or it didn’t have a camera phone.
Daria tried to tug the purple top higher. No luck. Most harpies were flat-chested. She wasn’t. Some nights you just couldn’t catch a break. “Why purple?” Not that it mattered.
“It matches part of your hair.” Sparkle sounded distracted. “Look, I have to go. The cook’s having trouble with tonight’s menu, and I have to find someone to take care of Mel’s bags. When Ganymede comes back inside, he’ll tell you what to do. Oh, and don’t forget to take Mel’s keys to him in the parlor. They’ll be on the registration desk.”
Well, well, her luck had turned. Daria grinned. Maybe she’d just change back into her own clothes right here. Opening the bathroom door, she peeked out. No Sparkle. She peered around the room. No clothes. What the… She stalked to the closet and yanked the door open. She shoved Sparkle’s clothes aside. Sexy, sexy, and downright sleazy.
Daria slammed the closet door shut and stormed from the room. She headed for the stairs. “Bitch, bitch, bitch,” was her mantra all the way to her door. Her explosive harpy temper whipped around her until the air crackled with its energy. She wanted to change into harpy form and hunt down the sneaky, clothes-stealing viper.
She barely controlled the urge to kick down the door to her own room. Her hand shook as she unlocked it and went inside. Calm down. No way would she pass the test if she blew everything her first night on the job. And as much as she wanted to snare Sparkle Stardust for Hades, she admitted the cosmic troublemaker would be hard to take down with Ganymede and Trouble in her corner. She’d have to find someone powerful—because powerful got her more points—but also someone who was alone.
She took a deep steadying breath. Okay, she was over it. She’d change out of the purple abomination and go down to start work.
Daria was trying to decide which of her equally yummy doomsday fashion statements she’d change into as she pulled open her closet door.
The closet was empty. She growled low in her throat.
“Someone’s feeling the need to bleed.”
Chapter Two
Declan Mackenzie sat alone. That’s the way he liked it. He studied the inn’s guests gathered around the blazing fireplace. From the comfort of a recliner tucked into a shadowy corner of the Woo Woo Inn’s parlor, he watched them watch each other.
The nonhumans checked each other out, deciding who wasn’t a player and who could kick ass. The humans glanced around the room, wondering if any of their fellow guests were vampires or werewolves. Declan could tell them there were lots of worse things that stalked the night.
Sure, it was warmer closer to the fire, but he was okay with the chill of the room’s darkened corner. It matched the cold inside him. Call it boredom or just the uncaring that came after too many y
ears of the same routines, but Declan just didn’t give a damn about much anymore.
He closed his eyes as he slid his fingers over the recliner’s smooth leather. Hope wasn’t completely gone, though. His senses could still bring him pleasure, could still warm the frozen places in what passed for his soul.
Opening his eyes, he yawned. A human reflex. He wasn’t human. Hadn’t been for about nine hundred years. But it demonstrated so well how he felt that he couldn’t resist. He’d visited the Woo Woo Inn for about twenty minutes last year. This visit wasn’t half as entertaining. Not yet, at least. It promised to improve once he found his prey.
Movement at the door to the parlor caught his attention. A big bear of a guy had walked in. He paused to glance around the room, and then he headed for Declan’s corner.
Damn. Declan automatically raised his mental shields. No one, human or nonhuman, could get past them to read his thoughts or ID what he was. He didn’t smile as the man dropped onto the chair across from him. A were-something. Declan didn’t care what kind.
The man grunted at him, the universal guy greeting.
Declan nodded, but didn’t offer to start a conversation.
“Just got here. They’re taking my stuff up to my room. You been here before?” He didn’t sound too interested in Declan’s answer.
Good. Declan wasn’t here to make friends. His job was pretty straightforward. Hunt. Kill. Go home. He shrugged. “Last year. I didn’t stay too long.”
“Great setup they have. Turned this big old Victorian mansion into a place where people who like to talk about paranormal stuff can get together. Does a huge business.”
“Yeah. Great concept.” Declan didn’t elaborate.
“I’m Mel.” Grinning, he leaned forward and stuck out a massive paw of a hand.
Declan exhaled wearily. Not that he needed to exhale, but if he wanted to be accepted as human, he’d better remember all those little human habits. Like breathing. Evidently Mel didn’t get the message, because he continued to grin at him.
Declan hesitated. His name wouldn’t mean a thing to anyone but the one he hunted. And if that person was in the room, he or she probably already knew his identity. The only thing his target might not know was the extent of his power.
“Declan.” He grasped the other man’s hand. At the same time, he did a quick walk-through of Mel’s mind. Nothing there to hint that he was the one Declan hunted. But Declan did find something that made him smile for the first time.
Mel settled deeper into his chair and the conversation. “Some of the people who come here really think they’re vampires or werewolves.” He shook his head sadly. “You’re not one of them, are you?” He sounded relaxed, but his gaze had sharpened.
Checking me out to make sure I’m only a harmless human, Mel? Declan’s smile widened. “Nope. No fur or fangs.” He was batting five hundred on the truth-o-meter. Not bad. “I’m into UFOs. Heard there were some great group discussions going on about sightings around here. New Jersey’s a long way from L.A., but I go wherever the action is.” He didn’t give a flip about UFOs. On the other hand, he’d be real interested in finding a UFK—unidentified freaking killer.
Mel nodded, but he looked like he’d lost interest. Declan didn’t pose a threat, so Mel could move on. “Be careful out in the woods. Could be some crazies running around. Wouldn’t want you going home with holes in your neck from a vampire wannabe.” His laugh was as big as the rest of him.
Declan acknowledged the joke with a grim smile. If he didn’t feed soon, a few of the inn’s guests might be going home with their own unique souvenirs of their stay at the Woo Woo Inn. “I’ll be careful. You won’t find me out in the woods at night.” He’d be there, but Mel had zero chance of seeing him. “I’m just dipping my toe in the paranormal pool.”
“Uh-huh. You make sure you don’t get that toe chewed off, you hear?” With that cheery warning, Mel started to rise. But something caught his attention, and he paused.
Following Mel’s gaze, Declan watched the woman who’d entered the parlor scan the crowd. When she spotted Mel, she frowned. Then she headed toward them.
Interesting. After nine centuries, it took a lot to make that word pop into his mind when he saw a woman. “Sex” was his pop-up ad of choice. But anything that interested him staved off the coldness for a while.
From the neck down she was all warm curves. Those gold sandals made her legs go on forever. Her head? Definitely belonged to another woman. All the color in her face must’ve faded into her hair, because the hair was a multicolored mess. And the black circles she’d drawn around her eyes made her look Night-of-the-Living-Deadish. Now, why would a woman who dressed like that…?
The push of magic as she neared him surprised Declan. He narrowed his attention to a tunnel of focused concentration, stripping away the magic to find the essence of what lay beneath. Most of the beings in this room, human or otherwise, would see nothing more than a pale woman with really bad hair. But thanks to nine hundred years of experience and the power he’d inherited from good old Dad, Declan knew.
He leaned back and smiled. The smile wouldn’t reach his eyes. Whatta you know, a harpy. Harpies dealt in death. But there was something off about this one. An exploratory probe of her thoughts bounced off strong protective shields. Smart woman. You never knew who wanted to play in your mind.
Okay, so she wasn’t as horrific looking as a harpy should be. Made sense, though, to tone it down if she expected to mingle with humans. Sending guests screaming into the night would earn her a quick boot out the door.
But she shouldn’t be able to clean herself up that well. And the magic he felt wasn’t her own. Strange.
Could she be the one? Harpies were dedicated collectors for Hades. He’d keep her on his radar.
She stopped in front of Mel and shoved some keys at him. “Your car and room keys. Enjoy your visit, sir.” Her expression said, “Want a free ride to a vacation spot in Tartarus?”
“Hmmph.” Mel took the keys and started to walk away. Then he paused to look back at her. “Good thing you got yourself a different dress. Don’t go sewing any rabbit fur onto this one. Oh, and do they still have that brown dog here?”
She nodded and Declan would just bet she had her teeth clenched.
Mel’s face split into a happy grin. “Terrific.” And then he left.
The woman watched him go. She took a deep calming breath before turning to study Declan. “Can I get you anything?”
He shook his head. “What’s with the rabbit fur?” Declan smiled at her, the special smile he saved for women he wanted for a night. It got lots of use. He accepted the power of that particular smile. It was just another tool.
The tool didn’t work this time. She didn’t smile back as she studied him a little too intently. Don’t get your hopes up, sweetheart. You won’t be carting me off to Tartarus.
Would he make a good candidate for a trip to Tartarus? Daria wasn’t sure. He felt human. A human would be okay. But there were nonhumans in that group by the fire. One of those would be a lot more impressive. Besides, she didn’t want to snatch just anyone. She was looking for someone evil, someone worthy of Hades’s attention. It didn’t matter how physically powerful her victim was; once she was in harpy mode it was all over. But if she wanted a challenge, she’d choose someone with powers beyond the mere physical.
“Mel didn’t like the fur trim on my dress. It was rabbit fur.” She shrugged. “I thought it was fake. What do I know?”
He nodded, and then flashed that smile again. Wow, powerful stuff. He was heat lightning and hot summer nights. Why that comparison? Why not compare him to the heat of Tartarus? No, her description was right. This man was of earth—primal, raw, exciting.
She felt the pull of sexual attraction, that heavy feeling low in her belly and the urge to clench her thighs around his hard male body. Surprising. Disturbing. She couldn’t afford any distractions while she was here.
“I’m Declan Mackenzie. And yo
u are?” He raised one dark brow.
She almost forgot to answer, lost in the dark fall of his hair, the brilliant blue of his eyes, the hard planes of his face, and a body his black T-shirt and jeans did nothing to disguise. Her gaze slid over the leather duster he’d dropped on the floor beside his chair. Unusual coat for this setting. “Uh, Daria Abaar.”
“Intriguing. Daria is Greek. What would Abaar be?” His expression promised that everything about her interested him.
Abaar would be the first name she’d come to in the phone book. “This and that. I have a mixed ancestry.” Kal and she were the products of Mom’s one-night stand with Apollo, so yes, mixed would be about right. If Mom had lusted after an uglier god, or Apollo had been less drunk that night, then her brother and she wouldn’t need magic to fit in. “Have you met any of the other guests?”
“Other than Mel? No. But I will.” There was some thing in the narrowing of his eyes and the thinning of his sensual mouth that hinted at savagery. Human or not, she was looking at a predator.
“Well, if you need anything let me know.” Time to put some distance between Declan’s sensual pull and her unsettling awareness. She’d make sure none of the other guests needed anything while she scoped them out for a one-way, all-expenses-paid flight to the underworld. Kal was with the group by the fireplace. He’d give her his assessment when they got back to her room.
Daria almost didn’t hear the frenzied barking in the distance. There was something desperate in the sound. The only dog she’d seen here was Trouble. He must’ve found his bunnies. Strange. He didn’t sound happy about it. She was prepared to ignore the dog, when the barking turned to terrified yelping. Hmm. She looked around. Declan and she were the only ones close enough to the window to hear the noise. But he was human, so no enhanced hearing.
She drifted toward the hallway, undecided about what to do. Ganymede was with the dog, wasn’t he? On cue, the cat padded past her headed for the kitchen.
Daria intercepted him. “I think I hear Trouble barking out in the woods. He sounds a little upset.”
