by Sharon Kay
“Um.” She flipped up the plastic cover for the keypad, hand hovering, thoughts melting like chocolate in a double boiler. Her mind drew a total blank. What was her code again?
Rhys leaned an arm on the brick next to her and tilted his head. Heat rolled off his frame and she met his twinkling brown eyes. “Need help?”
“Um, I…” feel like an idiot. In the glow of the light above the door, all his features came together to form a magazine-worthy picture of hotness. How was it possible for a guy to seem laid-back and alert at the same time? He stood a fraction of an inch away. Sudden images swept into her brain of when his arms had been around her tonight. When he’d held on to her as they fell. When he’d grabbed her when she tried to run. The smolder in her chest crept up, heating her cheeks.
The bulb flickered on and off three times and Rhys shot a glare at it before looking back at her. “Does it do that a lot?”
She bit her lip. “Remember what I said in the car about technology hating me and files not saving?”
“Yeah?” Curiosity coated that one little word.
“Sometimes electricity gets weird around me too. I-I have no idea why. It’s kind of embarrassing. Annoying, really. Though no one ever thinks stuff is my fault, so I guess it doesn’t matter.” Darn it, she was babbling again.
“I’m sure you’re not the only one,” he murmured.
She blinked. That wasn’t what she expected him to say, and what did that even mean? Most people were surprised at her electrical quirk, or at least thought she was weird.
“You should go in,” he said, his voice a rumble that danced across her skin.
“I should,” she repeated. “My code is…” By some miracle, the four digits popped back into her mind and she typed them before she forgot for a second time. “Thanks again.” She gave a small wave and ducked in.
She leaned on the heavy wooden door for a moment. Oh my god, how embarrassing. First getting so flustered by him that she forgot her own door code, then her stupid electrical issues.
But wow. Being in proximity to him had short-circuited her brain. Either that, or she’d blame the crazy sequence of events she’d just been through.
Her eyes dropped to the tacky maroon and gold carpet in the hall. Truth was, she’d felt different all her life. No one else she knew had so many problems with computers and electronics. If it weren’t for the predictable constant of good old-fashioned ovens and the way ingredients behaved like they were supposed to when she combined them, she would be utterly lost. Her friends and family lovingly teased her about her technical challenges but, seriously, it had gotten old years ago.
She drew a breath, taking in the familiar scents of her building. Each unit was as olfactorily distinct to her as if it had a neon sign. Mrs. Yu’s apartment always smelled like garlic stir fry. On the second floor, Mr. Alonso sneaked cigarettes even though this was a non-smoking building. Her ultra-mellow next door neighbor, Jack, held regular beer and weed parties. The carpet’s musty smell never changed, even after being shampooed.
All of it combined into a familiar mix that announced home, even though the neighborhood made her mom disagree. Enza trudged up the stairs, noting every chip in the painted walls, and each worn doorway as if seeing it in a new light. Rhys’s words lingered in her ears.
There are creatures in our city that aren’t human.
And apparently, tonight, she had run right past some of them. Would she meet more? Were some of them good?
Did any of them create unintentional interference with electricity?
Okay, maybe that was a stretch.
Honestly, she was intrigued. And if Rhys could tell her more, then she wanted to hear it. Too bad she had no way to contact him.
She reached her door and unlocked it, then stepped in and quickly flipped her three locks. Midnight. Too late to call Meena or her mom. What would she say to them anyway? If she launched into the stuff Rhys had said, they would think she was crazy.
And there was no way Enza could explain how Rhys had put her at ease and gained her trust. No, she’d tell them she’d been chased by muggers, lost her phone, then got away. Those facts were true, even if they weren’t the complete story.
She could never account for the portal or being in The Arboretum.
Or even stranger, that she wanted to believe a man who seemed fully convinced that werewolves, vampires, and elves existed.
CHAPTER 5
RHYS DROVE AWAY FROM ENZA’S place, the sugar scent of her skin and hair clinging to the leather of the Cadillac like a signal he couldn’t ignore. Didn’t want to ignore, with questions flickering in his mind. She was a puzzle he wanted to put together, even if she didn’t have all the pieces yet. Energy surged through his veins, fueling him to help her with that.
But did she want help? Or was she thanking her stars she was out of his car and safe in her apartment?
Brenin had moved to the front seat and now played some game on his phone. Something about candy.
Rhys cast him a sidelong glance. “Really, dude? You, and like, all the middle school kids in the country play that.”
“It sucks you in. You should try it.” Brenin’s thumbs flew over the screen.
“No, thank you,” Rhys muttered.
Brenin pocketed his phone. “So while you and your hottie were chatting up he—”
“She’s not my hottie.” Though damn. She’d bitten her lip when the stupid bulb had flickered, and now her mouth was front and center in his mind.
Brenin snorted. “Yeah. Okay. So while you two were getting to know each other better, I scanned her.”
“And?”
“And got the same shit you did. Flashing from Deserati to human. I’ve seen that a lot. And every time, the creature was a halfling. Half human, half whatever the screen said.”
“I’ve seen it too. Not what I expected tonight though.” Rhys’s hands tightened on the wheel. Though anything he may have expected had disappeared when Enza first pinned those frightened brown eyes on him. “I don’t think she has any clue.”
“Then why was she running for the portal?”
“Says she didn’t know what it was, thought it was a mirage. Just air.”
Brenin paused a beat. “You believe her?”
“Yeah. I do.” Indignation flared, sharp and out of nowhere. “You didn’t hang out with her back at The Arboretum. She was scared, almost cried, and passed out. A Deserati female would have told me to fuck off or started a fight.”
“She coulda been faking.”
“She doesn’t have horns. I checked when she was unconscious.”
Brenin smirked. “You check for a tail too?”
“No, asshole.” Rhys glared at the street ahead, where gleaming high rises sprung up from the concrete.
Brenin chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, sorry I asked. I wouldn’t either. Got enough nymphs offering up the goods. Don’t need to take when it’s coming right to us.”
Watchers had groupies—a fact of life that went with the job of being a protector. And nymphs were happy to fuck almost anything. But suddenly the thought of other women seemed totally unappealing.
“I wondered if she was faking the whole thing at first,” Rhys said. “But she doesn’t have the physique of a fighter.” And with every word and action, she had systematically eliminated each brick in the foundation of that theory.
He guided the car into the underground garage of their house. It was a big dark brownstone, three stories high, and set back from the street. An iron fence kept people away from the windows. They owned the house next door too, though all that paperwork was buried in layer upon layer of trusts and lawyers and holding companies. And both buildings were magically protected to high security levels. Unlike Enza’s, where anyone could walk up to the front door and slip in when someone entered or left. “She needs wards on that crappy building of hers,” Rhys muttered.
In his peripheral vision, he saw Brenin turn to him. “Not sure why, unless you think she’s hiding something.
”
Damn it, he didn’t think she was hiding anything. But he couldn’t shake the tantalizing mystery of her, and the potential of how much she didn’t know. “Basic wards are easy to set up and can’t hurt. I’ll talk to Rilan.”
Rilan was also a Lash demon, but not a fighter. He was an Elder, a member of their race who was older and more learned in magic than the warriors. None of them knew exactly how old he was. Rhys’s guess was in the thousands, though Rilan didn’t look older than forty.
Rhys parked the car and he and Brenin headed into the basement of their home. One level below this, a tunnel—that the city didn’t know about—connected the two buildings. Not only did they need space, but they also needed room for training, and for guests visiting from Torth.
Their previous home had included a firing range. But the place’s location had been compromised several months back. Arawn, their leader, wanted them to stay in the city, so they moved to the heart of it. Little did their rich, trust-fund-spending neighbors realize that demons lived on their block.
They came up the stairs and emerged in the rehabbed great room. Wooden floors shone and leather couches and chairs filled the room. On the wall hung a seventy-two-inch flat screen that saw a lot of use from their Xbox. But tonight, all was quiet. “Jude and Tor aren’t back. Rilan’s upstairs,” Rhys said as he inhaled, detecting the occupants of the home.
Brenin vaulted over the back of a couch to land squarely on the cushions. He pulled out his phone. “I was about to level up in my game.”
Rhys rolled his eyes and walked to the adjacent den, which housed his three computers and various tech equipment. “Lame, dude. I’m gonna research our new friend.”
“Your new hottie,” Brenin muttered, barely perceptible.
Rhys ignored it and sat in his rolling chair. Enza was hot. That was a fact. Did she have a boyfriend? He frowned. Doesn’t matter. His fingers flew over the keys as he scoured the web for information about Miss Vincenza De Luca.
It didn’t take long. Data was Rhys’s friend, flowing to him as he cracked codes and slipped past firewalls. If he ever needed an assist, he had super-hacker friends he could call at human agencies as well as among supernatural allies. But tonight, nothing about Enza was buried too deeply.
She’d resided in the city all her life. Even attended culinary school at local Kendall College. Her mom, Concetta De Luca, owned a home a block south of Taylor Street in Little Italy. And her grandparents, Vicente and Maria De Luca, lived a few blocks south of that. Bought their place in 1962.
De Luca…all with that same last name. Who was her dad?
Rhys dug into Concetta next but found no record of marriage or engagement. She worked as a nurse at Rush Hospital.
Brenin leaned on the doorframe. “I can hear your teeth grinding from over there. Don’t tell me you can’t track down something?”
“Not finding anything about her dad.”
Brenin walked over to peer at the screen. “That her mama? Looks just like her.”
“Yeah. Same last name, never married.”
“You think Mom’s human and Dad’s a Deserati who knocked her up.”
Rhys nodded. “Been known to happen.”
“Mama might not even know her baby-daddy is a demon.”
Rhys frowned. A dude shouldn’t take off and abandon his child. Then again, maybe he’d been an asshole and Concetta hadn’t wanted him around. There was a lot he didn’t know, and that bugged him for reasons he couldn’t pinpoint.
“So.” Brenin flipped his phone from one hand to another. “She’s a halfling. Seems like she has a nice family, a job. A place to live. Leave it be.”
“Yeah, but what if the dark elves try to track her? They saw her jump into their portal. And you know it looked like she did it on purpose.”
“Dark elves are dipshits.”
“True. But, they can be mean and scare the shit out of humans.” Rhys leaned back in his chair, pushing it close to a tipping point.
“So we get Rilan to build wards. We can ward her shop too. What did she call it?”
“Java Genie.” Rhys leaned forward and began a new search that yielded a slew of information on the store. “Opened two years ago in Lincoln Park. Huh. This must be her partner.” Rhys pulled up a photo of a dark-skinned woman named Meena Krishnanti.
“How’d two women in their twenties get the cash to start up a coffee shop in Lincoln Park?”
“Not sure yet. I’ll dig into the business documents next.”
Brenin let out a yawn. “Sounds fascinating. I’m going upstairs.”
Rhys kept researching, finding that Meena’s parents had fronted the money to open the shop and were majority owners. But the shop’s slick website full of drinks and sweets wasn’t what held his attention.
Returning to Enza, he couldn’t resist checking her social media profiles. No mention of a boyfriend or relationship. No photos of her with guys, except in groups. For some irrational reason, that pleased him.
She had posted dozens of pictures with her mom, grandparents, and friends. At least half of them involved her in a kitchen decorating fancy-ass baked goods that all appeared food-magazine ready.
He stopped at an image of her and Meena with huge smiles, holding mugs emblazoned with Java Genie’s logo. Delight shone from her face, a picture-perfect cook-turned-entrepreneur.
But there was more to her. The knowledge pulsed through his veins, and he wouldn’t rest until he figured out how much she really knew, and helped her fill in any missing blanks.
CHAPTER 6
AS THE SUN SET ON the following day, Rhys sprawled on a leather chair in the great room. Brenin and Jude played a heated combat game on the Xbox. Tor, the fourth warrior in the Chicago group, stalked in, fists flexing.
“Last night was too quiet,” he growled. “There’s gotta be someone we can take down in this city.”
“Dude, you missed all the action,” Brenin said. “Shoulda been with us. You would’ve met Rhys’s hot halfling.”
“And she cooks?” Jude leaned forward, a grin on his face even as he blasted animated aliens to bits. “Invite her over.”
“She bakes,” Rhys corrected.
“Eh, food is food, right?” Jude patted his stomach.
Rilan shuffled into the room. As the group’s Elder, the warriors deferred to him in questions of magic, and they always discussed each night’s findings with him. He rarely went into the field, so there, the males drew on their training from Arawn to make the best of whatever situation they were in.
Tor, Jude, and Rilan had already been briefed on yesterday’s Enza-and-elves debacle. Tonight, all four Watchers would again patrol sections of the city, but first, Rilan would ward Enza’s building.
Brenin paused the game. Rilan settled in a wingback chair and ran a hand through his permanently disheveled hair. “I don’t have anything new to report. Does anyone else?”
The fighters shook their heads. Sometimes Arawn ordered them to focus on a certain species or situation, but if not, things would be business as usual. Keeping other supernaturals on the down low, making sure predatory creatures weren’t abusing less powerful ones. And Rhys had a side plan of his own.
“You setting up the ward first?” he asked Rilan.
The Elder nodded. “Sooner rather than later.”
Rhys stood and cracked his neck, first to one side, then the other. “I’ll go with you, and after we’re done I’ll patrol the South Side.”
“That’s fine,” Rilan said. “The rest of you can pick your areas.”
“West,” Tor said.
“I did west last night. I’ll take north.” Brenin rolled his shoulders.
“I’ll stick with tech boy.” Jude smirked at Rhys. “In case he ’ports away again.”
The warriors headed out on foot. In seconds, Brenin and Tor disappeared, leaping to the rooftops and starting their searches. Watchers could run preternaturally fast, so cars only hindered them unless they were going far or had less str
ong creatures in tow.
“You sure you don’t want us to drive you?” Rhys asked Rilan.
“No,” the Elder said. “It’s good to get out and soak up the vibe of the city.”
By vibe he meant the magical kind. Rilan could pick up on traces of magic left behind, or portals that had closed. He also knew more witches than anyone could count. Every time he went out, at least one gravitated toward him. They all wanted to introduce themselves, some wanted to talk shop, and a few flirted shamelessly.
Rhys, Jude, and Rilan covered the distance to Wicker Park quickly, observing nothing unusual, and stopped across the street from Enza’s building. Jude folded his arms. “Could be worse.”
“Kinda describes this whole neighborhood.” Rhys frowned. He wanted Enza in a safer area, and it bugged him that this was where she chose to live.
“This won’t take long,” Rilan said. “Come.”
They crossed the street. Rilan worked quickly, pulling a small glass bottle of colorless liquid from his pocket. He dabbed a drop on each side of the main door and spoke in Demonish. Rhys and Jude stood watchfully, eyes out for any non-humans. To passersby, the three of them probably looked like they were waiting to be let in.
Methodically, they moved to a side door and then a back service door, repeating the process. One lone bulb lit the small area behind the building, and a dumpster hulked off to one side. Alone back there, Rilan raised his arms and began a new spell. Magic crackled like static electricity for a minute, then the nighttime humidity settled back down, draping Rhys in saturated air.
“All done,” Rilan said brightly. “Anyone who doesn’t live here and hasn’t been invited will experience a strong sense of foreboding at the thought of entering. If they ignore it, the dread will intensify until they’re convinced that they must leave immediately.”
Rhys nodded. It was the most basic type, but with so many humans living there, they didn’t want to get too extreme, especially since they had no reason to think Enza was in any kind of danger. Yet.
