Witchlight

by Sonya Clark

  He shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Uh, can I borrow Nathan for a few minutes? I need to ask him something business-related.”

  Calla said, “Is it something to do with the railroad?”

  Vadim wagged a hand in the air. “Kinda sorta but not anything to do with your part in it.” He glanced over his shoulder at where Nate had just sat down at the table. “And he’s not going to ask any questions because he’s a good friend who doesn’t want to feel compelled to turn in a pal for possible criminal activity.”

  “Even if I did feel it was my civic duty, you think she’d let me?” Nate jerked his chin at Calla, an intimate smile directed at her. “She’d never sleep with me again.”

  Vadim threw up his hand in a stopping motion. “Gods, please, don’t take this any further. I beg you.”

  Calla swooped over to Nate’s lap, planting loud kisses on his cheeks and jaw. “I’d never do that thing with my tongue you like,” she fake-whispered in his ear loud enough to make him wince. “Or that thing with the sparks that makes you get so loud I’m glad I don’t share walls with any neighbors.” She turned to Vadim. “I can’t do that one to him at his place anymore. The guy next door filed a noise complaint.” A giggle slipped out as Nate pushed her off his lap.

  Vadim said to him, “Please make her stop.”

  Nate threw up his hands. “As if I can control her.”

  Taking two deliberate steps to better face Calla, Vadim addressed her. “Please stop. And also go away.”

  She curled her lip and wrinkled her nose. “I need a shower anyway. Make your own coffee, both of you.”

  Nate grabbed her as she passed, pulling her to him for a real kiss this time. Vadim stared at the wallpaper, doing his best to ignore their affection and their whispered I love yous and the hard lump of emptiness that settled in his stomach. At forty-two he’d long ago given up thoughts of having anything like that in his own life. Despite the occasional twinge of regret, it was nice to see it was possible for others, especially people he cared for.

  On second thought, it wasn’t so nice to see. “Go on, would you? I need to have a conversation with the man.” He busied himself with preparing two cups of coffee.

  Calla tore away from Nate and headed for the bathroom door. Nate watched her go with a smile. Upon reaching the doorway she turned and addressed Nate. “The kitchen better be cleaned up by the time I’m out of here. Asshole.”

  Nate laughed but said nothing. She closed the door with a smile.

  Vadim placed one cup in front of Nate and the other before the empty chair as he sat in it. “Sparks?”

  “Don’t ask unless you want to know.” Nate sipped the coffee, grimaced, and reached for the sugar bowl.

  Vadim shook his head. “I need some information about somebody. Just what you know off the top of your head. I don’t need you to go digging.”

  “And you need me to not ask questions.”

  “Right. You okay with that?” Vadim tried not to take advantage of their friendship and Nate’s position as a police detective. Not too often, anyway.

  “You know I am. What’s up?”

  “City council member Elizabeth Marsden. What can you tell me about her?”

  Nate sat back, surprise evident on his face. “I’ve met her a couple of times. She hit on me once.”

  “I know. I remember Calla’s incessant bitching. I did a search on her. Came up with standard stuff like her council votes, interviews, appearances at various events. Do you know much about her background?”

  “I know nothing about her background.” Nate was starting to sound like a suspicious cop.

  “Her father was a veteran but her mother was heir to a defense company that built helicopters. So there’s money there. Quite a lot. The old family home is a mansion in the Sheridan Village subdivision. She owns it now but she lives mostly in a place in the university district.”

  “That’s the area she represents, I do know that. What’s your interest in her?”

  “Her parents died in a traffic accident when she was in college. She’s been on her own ever since. Her mother’s family’s company doesn’t exist anymore but apparently there’s quite a lot of money from it still invested and keeping the councilwoman in great comfort. She doesn’t need money.”

  Nate pushed his coffee cup away. “What are you doing, Vadim?”

  “There are things needed to keep the railroad operating. Physical things. Information. I need a source is all.”

  “Elizabeth Marsden is not going to be a source for you. No way.”

  “I need a way to approach her. This has to be handled just so.”

  “You need to find another source. She’s on the city council. And that’s just where she’s getting her start.”

  Vadim raised an eyebrow. “Aiming for higher office, is she?”

  “That’s what I hear.”

  “What else do you hear?”

  Nate shook his head. “Just find somebody else to bribe, okay? Forget about Elizabeth Marsden.”

  Vadim peered closer at his friend, watching the way the tiny lines around Nate’s eyes deepened, the tension in his neck. “You do know something,” he murmured. “But you don’t want it used against her.”

  Nate rubbed the back of his neck, then held his hand out for a moment before letting it drop to the table. “At city hall she’s got a reputation for being an ice queen. Tough. Ambitious, all that stuff. But she’s not all work, from what I hear.”

  Vadim stared, waiting.

  Nate relented. “She likes the club scene.”

  “I’ve never seen her at Sinsuality.”

  “Normal clubs—she never comes to the zone. No married men, but nobody that might be looking for a commitment, either. And by commitment, I mean breakfast.”

  “I’m liking the sound of this.” It definitely gave him a way to approach her, that’s for sure.

  Nate made a face. “Don’t try blackmailing her with something like that. For one thing, not enough people are going to care to make it even worth trying. For another, ah...”

  “You’re not comfortable getting judgy on somebody’s sex life.”

  “No, I’m not. It doesn’t seem like your style, either.”

  “I’ve already got what I need to blackmail her with. I just need a way to approach her. It’s not likely we’ll be running into each other at city hall or the Sheridan country club.”

  The cop still didn’t look happy. “Whatever you’re doing, I hope it’s worth it. She’s a politician—she’s rich and connected. How do you know she won’t file charges?”

  “She won’t.” Vadim looked away. He was willing to share plenty with Nate and Calla, but some things needed to be kept close to the vest. “Look, it’s really not that big a deal. A little information now and then, a little help with procurement. That’s all I need her for.”

  “Procurement?” Nate crossed his arms. Vadim refused to answer. Shaking his head, Nate said, “Never mind, I probably don’t want to know.”

  “Trust me, you don’t.” He pushed the chair away from the table and stood. “Will you two be at the next esbat?” The full moon rites at Sinsuality were Vadim’s favorite thing about his club.

  “I don’t know. Zinnia wants us to go with her.”

  “Gods damn religious zealots.” Vadim resisted the urge to kick something. “They’re going to cause problems with that old-fashioned shit and their peaceful protest crap.”

  Nate walked him to the door. “Yeah, about that. Tell Tyler to stay out of Rockenbach for a while. There’s talk of the department actually fixing the CCTV cameras there, just to catch whoever’s been doing the magic displays.”

  “Somebody must be really pissed if they’re willing to spend money on the cameras in that part of town. Thanks for the heads up.” Vadim p
aused at the door. “How do people really react to Tyler and his buddies’ little stunts? I know how they play it in the news but he tells me different.” He laughed. “The brat told me I should get out more.”

  “He’s not wrong, about either. The department’s under a lot of pressure to make arrests, but, you know. Not everybody feels that way.” Nate’s sardonic grin told Vadim how the cop felt. Nate said, “When’s the last time you went out into the city and just walked around? No business, no agenda, just go and take a look around. Maybe even talk to people.”

  “I’m too busy for that. Talk to people? You mean, actually talk to actual people? What the hell would I want to do that for?” This time the laughter sounded forced even to himself.

  “Think of it as a challenge.” Nate clapped him on the shoulder.

  Vadim hurried home through the rain. He would tell Tyler about the cameras and also give him a new job to do for nothing: follow Elizabeth Marsden and find her favorite places to party.

  Chapter Three

  It took nearly an hour in the club for Lizzie to pick out her evening’s entertainment. The third time she caught him watching her, staring openly as he leaned against a pillar and sipped his drink, she decided to get down to business. She left her dance partner with a genial smile and threaded her way through the crowd, taking her time, her gaze on him.

  He was older than the usual crowd at this place, older than her too. Maybe early forties, with the slightly receding hairline to show for it. Dark, nondescript clothes covered a lanky build. They’d be close to the same height thanks to her being tall for a woman and her fondness for heels that made her taller still. She might even be an inch or so taller than him with the heels. He didn’t look like the kind of man who would mind. Confidence radiated from him, power written in the lines of his face and the way he met her eyes. She put a challenge in the single look they shared as she passed, daring him to make the first move.

  She was daring herself too. Closer up, he looked even more out of place than she’d first thought. Not just older and far poorer, but rougher. Dangerous. He broke eye contact first, an amused grin creasing his face as he downed the last of his drink. It sent a shiver through her, delicious and dark.

  She dipped into a spot at the bar just as someone vacated. Waiting to place her order, she watched the mirror above the bottles of liquor. He approached from the side, not too gentle as he brushed past people to reach her. She expected him to wedge himself between her and the university student to her left but instead he stood behind her, placing his hands on the bar on either side of her. Penning her in and not being at all subtle about it.

  Another thrill of pleasure shot through her. Their eyes met in the mirror. He brought his right hand up, keeping just enough space between his fingertips and the bare flesh of her arm to set her teeth on edge. She curved her lips and tilted her head to the side as he moved her long red hair off her shoulder. His mouth close enough to her ear that his breath warmed her skin, he said, “Buy us a drink.”

  Lizzie turned her head to face him. They were just inches apart. “Us? You think we’ll be sharing?”

  His eyes were a deep, fathomless brown, almost black. “We’re not going to be here long enough to finish our own drinks.”

  “That’s awfully arrogant of you.”

  “It’s never arrogant to tell the truth.” He dipped his head into the curve of her neck, the tip of his nose lightly brushing her skin as he breathed deep.

  “Since you’re so sure of yourself, tell me what I should order for us.” She pressed herself to the bar, not sure if she was trying to establish her own space or reel him in even closer.

  “Something strong.” His lips tickled her ear. “With a bite to it.” He moved forward, crushing himself against her over the entire length of their bodies.

  He may have looked lanky but he was solid muscle. Being trapped between the cold, hard metal bar and his warm, hard flesh left her with no room to move but she did anyway, angling her backside across his front. She was rewarded with an erection grinding against the cleft of her rear. Sucking in a breath, she gripped the bar’s handrail tighter.

  The bartender approached, taking in their display with nonchalance. “Whiskey,” she said. “Double, neat.”

  In seconds an oversize shot glass clicked on the metal surface of the bar. The stranger picked it up, maintaining eye contact in the mirror as he raised the glass to her lips. “Ladies first.”

  Lizzie sipped carefully. He rubbed against her harder, his left hand circling her wrist with just enough pressure to border pain. The jolt of arousal made her whole body shake, a thin line of whiskey trailing from the side of her mouth. With a smirk, he tossed back the rest of the shot and thunked the glass on the bar. He ran his thumb down her chin, then sucked the liquor from it.

  She couldn’t take her eyes off him in the mirror. Would she even consider him handsome if he didn’t have such a tremendous sense of presence and power? She didn’t know, but she did know this was not her usual weekend entertainment. There’d be no controlling this man, no intimidating him with her beauty or her wealth and position. No giving him orders and him following them with a smile and a shrug. No, this man—he’d be the one giving the orders. Taking control.

  For the first time in her life, giving up control didn’t scare her. Excitement rocketed through her veins, a cold that quickly turned burning hot.

  The stranger leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. “Let’s go, shall we?”

  She managed a nod, a quiet yes coming out more of a moan than a word. Her senses sharpened, giving her a brief scare. That was always a prelude to the magic forcing its way to the surface. She pushed it down. For a moment everything flattened—the thrum of the music, the voices of the crowd, his warm body against hers. Even the flashing lights dimmed. Lizzie shut her eyes, wobbling on the four-inch heels.

  He tightened his hold on her as if sensing what she needed. “What’s the matter, Red? Too much to drink?”

  “No.” She opened her eyes to find him staring at her in the mirror. Red-and-blue light flashed across his face. “I’m sober, just.” She stopped, unable to think of an excuse.

  Multicolored light pulsed at the edges of the room and quickly spread to the dance floor. Flashes of purple and yellow, then red and blue again, then pink and green. The pressure in her head and lungs increased, far faster than usual. She cried out, terrified of what the magic fighting to claw its way out of her would do if she couldn’t keep it under control.

  The stranger stepped away. At first she barely noticed—she was concentrating on covering the imminent explosion of magic under as many layers of ice as she could muster. Once she regained enough control that she felt safe speaking, she started to say something to him but found his attention on the dance floor.

  Everyone’s attention was on the dance floor. Above the throng of partiers, light winked into existence, forming patterns and shapes before dissolving into nothing. Dancers cheered. People put their drinks down to applaud. The buzz of energy prickled along her skin, threatening her hard-won control over her magic.

  That energy was magic. Lizzie felt it in every cell, in every beat of her heart and intake of breath. A longing more powerful than the sensual haze induced by the stranger rattled her composure. Her fingers itched with electricity and she took an involuntary step toward the light show.

  Flowers bloomed and melted. Fish swam just above the heads of the dancers, disappearing into the walls. Fireworks and random patterns burst in every color imaginable, and it was all beautiful. So beautiful. It made her heart hurt to look at it. That longing filling her chest with an ache she remembered from childhood but, oh God, she didn’t want to. Nothing good ever came from wanting what she could never have, could never be. Just once, though, surely it wouldn’t hurt to look.

  She turned to the stranger, smiling. “Amazing, isn’t
it?”

  His features were dark with fury. “Fucking little punk-ass bitches.”

  The anger in his voice hit her like a slap in the face. Without a word, she left, refusing to look back at the man who had disgusted her as quickly as he’d aroused her, or at the beautiful display of magic.

  * * *

  Vadim watched Elizabeth Marsden run away from him as fast as her high heels would carry her. The urge to smack the shit out of somebody, preferably Tyler or one of his witch punk buddies, fought with the need to follow her. He knew where she lived though. Giving her a head start wouldn’t hurt. It would give him time to get his damn fool head screwed back on straight from having nearly lost it.

  His first mistake had been taking Nate’s advice. His second had been traveling off the zone under his own badge, without a glamour. Now she knew what he looked like. Nothing sealed a commitment quite like his own ineptitude. So he ordered another shot, downed it quickly and proceeded to leave the club.

  Cheering and applause echoed louder than the music. He watched the faces as he walked out, amazed. No fear, no disgust, no hatred. The crowd loved the light show. The Normals, that is. He spotted a couple of Magic Born wearing worried looks. And underneath the worry was that thing they needed to avoid most—hope. Vadim shook his head. So people found a little magical entertainment harmless, so what? He’d known that for years, made a living off it with his own nightclub. Plenty of Normals came to Sinsuality to get themselves a little magical thrill in the dance hall and in the floor shows down in the Garden, but they came under the permissive cover of night. In the light of day, the unease would return, and the fear would follow.

  The councilwoman had a car but he would have to hoof it to her apartment. That gave him a ten-minute walk in the cold rain to cool his lust and regain his focus on the job.

  It hadn’t been hard to find her in the crowd. Her height and her beauty set her apart. Watching her dance in that short, skintight black dress had been a treat. Hell, it had been intoxicating. The last thing he’d expected was for her to notice him, to issue such a blatant invitation with her eyes. Playing along had been fun, if a little too real. He wouldn’t have gone through with it though. Business and pleasure were two different things, never to be joined.