Paranormal Nights

by CJ Ellisson

  Will you behave? Hissing through his teeth, Baron clamped a hand down around the cuff and trapped his brother’s ink-like muzzle before it could emerge from under the cotton. You’re going to blow our damn cover if you’re not careful.

  Duke retreated, grumbling under his ‘breath’ again, but was still. He hadn’t returned to Baron’s back though and had instead remained curled around his arm. Baron didn’t trust him for a second. The instant he relaxed, Duke would do just what the fuck he wanted. He always did.

  Behave, or I clear all your shit out the spare bedroom, Baron threatened as he reached out and rapped his knuckles on the door. It was partly open anyway, so it was more a courtesy thing.

  You wouldn’t dare. Duke huffed, manifesting claws from the ink-form long enough to stick them into Baron’s arm. Besides, you can’t get in there.

  With explosives, Baron added.

  Bastard, his brother grumbled in reply. Baron grinned, he’d won this round.

  “Come in.”

  The masculine voice had to belong to Laurence Croft himself, as he was the only male in the room when Baron walked in. Honor sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. From the stiff set of her shoulders and the fact she didn’t look his way, deliberately by the look of it, he’d put his money on the fact she’d just been told something she didn’t want to hear.

  “Ahh, Smith, thank you for joining us.”

  Croft stood and rounded the desk, surprising Baron by offering his hand to shake. Most big-wigs like this wouldn’t have bothered, asserting their superiority through rudeness, but Croft’s shake and smile seemed genuine. More than that, the relief seeping from his pores was obvious to any guy with a nose on his face.

  “No problem, sir.” Baron ignored the movement over his arm as Duke slid around. Sneaky fuck was using the gap under his cuff to peek out from.

  “Right, well. Let’s get down to it.” Croft turned to his daughter, and for a split second Baron caught the look of discomfort in the guy’s eyes as he took in the rigid set of Honor’s shoulders. For a moment Laurence deflated, and Baron felt for him. That he loved and cared about his daughter was obvious. Trouble was, often kids, even adult ones, didn’t see it that way. Then the older man took a breath, straightened his back, and smiled.

  “Honor, this is Mr. Smith. He will be in charge of your safety for the next co...little while.”

  “Dad, I told you, I don’t need a bodyguard.”

  Baron hid his smile as Honor turned. The look that passed between father and daughter melted Baron’s somewhat craggy heart. The love and affection between them was obvious, even though they were patently out of sorts with each other at the moment. Laurence reached out to take her hands, pulling her to her feet.

  “Please, angel. It would make me feel a lot better knowing that you had someone as capable as Smith here looking after you. I worry about you; this will make me sleep easier when I’m away in London.”

  Baron was pleased to see she didn’t pout, or argue, but instead inclined her head in a graceful movement. “There’s no need to worry, but okay.”

  Laurence beamed and dragged his daughter into a swift hug. At the same moment, the phone on the desk behind chirped once.

  “Damn it, that’s my afternoon meeting. I’ll leave you in Mr. Smith’s capable hands. Don’t forget to ring me.”

  Honor smiled. “Of course not, now go. I’ll see you when you get back.”

  Chapter Three

  As soon as the door closed behind her father’s retreating back, Honor rounded on the brooding bad-boy who’d been assigned to look after her. In just one sentence from her father, he’d been reduced from potential one night stand to someone she wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot barge pole. Look after indeed, what century did her father, and this guy, think they were in?

  “Okay, forget everything he said,” she ordered, channelling her inner bitch. It didn’t take much when she was being treated like the helpless ‘little woman.’ “Despite what my father thinks, I don’t need a man to make sure I can get from home to the office and back.”

  Smith stood there, looking down at her with an unreadable expression and a light in his eyes she couldn’t work out. It had better not be amusement, or she’d show him what damage a stiletto heel could do to Italian leather. Expensive shoes for a bodyguard, but it was none of her business what he spent his money on. Given his appearance, her money was on shoes and tats.

  She took a deep breath to start again, and was waylaid by his cologne. Musk and something woody. Smelled nice, and expensive. Not one she’d smelled before. Must be very expensive, even exclusive. The men her father pushed at her at the functions he insisted she attend were like a catalog of the latest and greatest in everything from clothes to new fragrances. Just once she’d like to find one that smelled like a man. It would be a new experience. Maybe she could even work up to one that had some kind of manual skill rather than lurking behind a desk most of his working day.

  “As far as I’m concerned, this is just a huge waste of time and money.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “But, if it makes him happy, then I’ll play along. But I make the rules, understand me?”

  She waited for what appeared to be a vague nod. Okay, he could have just been lifting his chin to look down his nose at her, but she didn’t care. She needed to get this speech out in the open, lay the ground rules now, before they went any further. Besides, the broody and silent act was beginning to piss her off. Did he think that was cute or something?

  “Which means you get to follow me like a puppy dog, get the doors and wait for me outside meetings, the gym, and the salon.” She smiled, little more than a quirk of her lips. Amusement she didn’t feel. “I’m afraid you’re going to have a rather boring couple of weeks, Mr. Smith. If I were you, I’d buy a couple of good books. You’re going to need them.”

  Silence, then a slow nod. Honor let out a breath of...no, not relief. She hadn’t been waiting for the nod. No, not at all. She was just still worked up from the warehouse earlier. Yeah, that’s what it was.

  “Okay, good. Now we have that sorted, I have work to do this afternoon. There’s a spare desk next to Lucy’s you can use.”

  The man monolith frowned, his answer a deep rumble. “Lucy?”

  “My PA. Nice girl, you’ll like her. Real chatty.” Honor grinned in real amusement this time. Mr. Talkative here and Lucy would get on like a house on fire. Not. If she was lucky, he’d run screaming from the building after half an hour of Lucy’s constant chatter. Either that or he’d fling himself from the toilet windows on the thirtieth floor.

  “Well, times a-wasting.” She grabbed her files and tablet PC from her father’s desk. “If you’ll follow me, Mr. Smith?”

  *

  He was in hell. Seriously in hell.

  Three hours later Baron would have welcomed the apocalypse or perhaps a zombie invasion. Between Duke’s incessant whining in his mind, and Lucy’s constant chatter assaulting his ears, he was ready to go stir crazy. Or postal with the stapler on the desk in front of him. It was pink, and the smiley face on the top was mocking him, he was sure of it.

  What’s happening? Does that bloody girl never stop talking? Duke groused, trying to turn around in the small of Baron’s back as Lucy chattered away opposite. So far they’d been through the latest on the soaps, last weekend’s movie releases, and something about some family called Kardosians.

  I don’t think she even stops to draw breath. Baron grimaced as Duke dug his claws in for purchase. Get your damn nails out of my butt.

  It shouldn’t be so big then, should it? Seriously Bro, would it kill you to do a few squats.

  Baron grumbled under his breath and nodded at a comment of Lucy’s. No idea what she’d said but right at this moment he didn’t care. If one or both didn’t shut the fuck up soon, it was him and the stapler all the way.

  Yeah, since we do the same workouts, then that means you could do with some as well, fatso.

  Before he could add to h
is reply, the door to Honor’s office swung open and the woman herself emerged. Despite the dressing down she’d tried to give him in her father’s office, every instinct he had, human and non-human, was locked onto her the moment she came into view. His dragon rose, the dark heat filling his blood as scales brushed against the inside of his skin. Sensing the presence of Baron’s beast just the other side of the thin surface he sat on, Duke stilled where he was.

  Bro, get it together. This close to the full moon, you shift, I shift, and this room ain’t big enough for the both of us, he warned. No room’s big enough for both of us in dragon form.

  Baron nodded, closed his eyes for a second and drew a deep breath. In through his nose, and deep down into his lungs. Big mistake. The air carried Honor’s scent, infiltrating his body as the oxygen crossed over into his blood. He shivered and the scales under his skin rustled, the sound like dry leaves dancing over the sidewalk in autumn, as though his dragon was determined to make its presence known.

  Both women looked up from their conversation, confusion across their faces.

  “What was that?” Honor asked, straightening up. As she did, she readjusted her purse strap on her shoulder, pulling the fabric across her bust taut. Baron bit back a groan as lust rolled through his body like a high speed locomotive.

  “What was what?” He got it together enough to give her a blank look, and turned to glance behind him. “Nothing here but us unwanted bodyguards.”

  Damn, he hadn’t meant to say that. Forcing the wince down, he matched Honor look for look, ignoring Lucy snickering at her side. Damn woman couldn’t keep her mouth shut. He pitied the man who took her on. Fool would need some ear-defenders, seriously.

  “Hmmm, yeah. Funny guy.” Honor wrinkled her nose and turned back to Lucy. “Right, I’m done. Ten minutes, Missy, then I want you out of here. Home. Or else.”

  “Yessir...errr, ma’am!” Lucy crossed her eyes and threw a lopsided salute that made Honor laugh. It wasn’t the light, musical tinkle so often rhapsodized over in books, but a low, dirty little chuckle that hit him right in certain regions. Lord, she had a voice made for phone sex, especially with that laugh.

  “I mean it. If I check the logs tomorrow and you stayed late, I’ll.... No frappe latte for a week!”

  “Noooooo! That’s cruel and unusual punishment!” Lucy wailed, flopping on the desk and holding her hands to her chest like she’d been mortally wounded. Baron schooled the quirk of his lip, amusement rolling through him at her antics and dialing down the lust raging through his body until it was a background roar.

  “Hmm. Well, there it is. No stayey-latey and all the frappes you want.” Triumphant in victory, Honor turned on her heel and headed for the door.

  The smile faded from Lucy’s expression as she caught Baron’s gaze, a knowing look in her eyes. He tilted his head in curiosity as he levered himself out of the chair to follow Honor. Then Lucy’s gaze dropped to his crotch and he paused. How the fuck...? Lucy winked, the slight flash in the back of her eyes telling him she wasn’t entirely human. Walked, talked, and smelled like one, but no human had eyes that flashed green like that, or a sense of smell that could pick up a dragon’s arousal.

  Grateful for the diversion, he launched himself across the room, his human form morphing partly into shadow. Duke yelped, almost dislodged from his position on Barons back, and dug his claws into the rapidly disintegrating skin. But before he could be thrown, Baron had surged across the floor and reformed on Lucy’s side of the desk, looming over the girl.

  Shiiit, could’ve warned me. I nearly fell off, dipshit.

  Baron ignored him, focusing on Lucy.

  “What the fuck are you?” he demanded, his voice rough with his dragon. “You ain’t human, that’s for sure.”

  “What? And you are?” Lucy squeaked, her unusual eyes widening at his sudden movement.

  “Never claimed to be.” He extended his claws, the natural defenses punching out the end of his human fingers, and tapped them along the desk. “I’m fairly sure you’ve a good idea what I am, which means you know what I can do. Now talk, or else.”

  Baron had never considered himself the type to threaten women, whatever the species—except maybe Medusas or Keres demons, who both seemed to be born with anger management issues—but faced with a threat to Honor, all his defensive instincts rushed to the fore. Lucy’s gaze riveted to his claws. She paled, skin going white as he watched. He felt a slight twinge of shame when she started to shake but not enough to back off. Not until he had the answers he needed.

  “I-I’m a f-f-fate,” she stammered, trying to back up in her chair. His hand on the seat-back put a stop to that.

  A fate? Just his fucking luck. The last thing he needed was those bitches interfering in a case. “What are you doing here?”

  She was so fixated on his claws Baron was forced to lift them. Folding them out of sight, he asked again. “What. Are. You. Doing. Here?”

  Her gaze shot back up to his face at the growled demand.

  “Problems in the destiny lines,” she squeaked. “Events unfolding in the wrong way. Head office tracked it back to possibly something to do with Honor and dispatched me to check it out. They have other leads, this is just an outside bet.”

  Baron blinked in surprise, matched by the sudden silence from his brother. The fates had a head office? Shit, that was unreal. He’d thought they were just busy-bodies from the same three blood-lines who just liked to stick their noses into other people’s business.

  He nodded. “Okay, you’ll do. Just...you get anything, I want to know about it.”

  She opened her mouth, her expression stubborn, so he extended a claw and dragged it over the desk, scoring the polished wooden surface. The sound made her jump, and nod her head. “Yes, yes. Of course.”

  “Good. And one other thing. She’s not to know what I am. Understand?”

  Curiosity filtered through the fear but before either of them could say anything else, Honor’s voice filtered through from the corridor.

  “Mr. Smith, the point of being a bodyguard is actually being close to the body that you’re supposed to be guarding.”

  Body. Close. Fuck. Duke suppressed a grimace. She was trying to kill him, he was sure of it. He headed out of the door, a last hard look telling Lucy he was going to be watching her.

  *

  Honor waited in the corridor, and tried not to tap her foot in annoyance. Well, annoyance wasn’t the right word. More of a strange, restless energy that filled her whenever she was around him. The door swung open to reveal the tall, broad-shouldered frame she’d spent the last couple of hours trying to get out of her head so she could do something vaguely work-like.

  It hadn’t worked. Not one little bit. All her brain had wanted to focus on was what the obviously muscled frame would look like out of the slick suit, and how far up, and hopefully down, that ink she’d spotted at his wrist went.

  “You summoned?” He asked, one eyebrow raised a fraction. She pressed her lips together at the slight hint of laughter in his eyes, as though he’d just been told a joke he was keeping to himself. How was it possible to be so attracted to a guy, yet pissed off by him at the same time?

  “Look,” she said, her tone a little abrupt. “We got off to a bad start, which was probably my fault. Since we’re stuck with each other for the duration, how about we make the best of it?”

  Holding her hand out, she waited as he studied it. Oh, for heaven’s sake, it was a hand, not a coiled snake ready to stroke...strike. Fuck, where did stroke come from? Hanging off the coat-tails of that thought, her mind presented her with several possibilities, all carnal in nature. Heat hit her cheeks like a solar flare and she started to drop her arm, ready to stammer something to get out of the awkward moment.

  Before she could, her hand was enveloped in his, slender digits dwarfed by his more powerful ones. She looked up in surprise, a gasp on her lips at the spark that arced through her when his skin brushed against hers.

  “Th
at’d be real nice, Miss Croft. Ah’d like that a lot.”

  She wasn’t prepared for his smile, nothing could prepare her for it, but it was the slight hint of a drawl that hit her in the ovaries. Shit, God really was trying to test her. Honor released after a quick shake and stepped back, casting a surreptitious glance in one of the floor to ceiling mirror panels by the elevator.

  “Well, good.” She managed a smile, relief flooding her at her reflection. At least she hadn’t managed to drool or something else embarrassing. “Truce then.”

  He inclined his head, stepping to the side as the elevator pinged its arrival. She was so taken up by watching him out of the corner of her eye—admiring the way his jacket pulled over the heavily muscled arms—that she completely missed the fact the lift was occupied.

  “Honor, so good to see you.”

  The nasal voice was familiar. Honor’s heart plummeted at the same moment her back stiffened and she turned to nod at the speaker. Lambert Sellers, her father’s ‘right hand man,’ although how the little weasel had managed to land that position she had no clue.

  “Lambert.” She inclined her head and stepped to the side to wait for the man to vacate the elevator. Since he’d joined the company when she was in her teens, she’d always been careful never to get caught alone with him. Something about the look in his eye warned her it would be a bad idea. Over the years she’d developed many techniques for avoiding him, but by far the most successful of those was hiring Lucy. The girl seemed to have ESP where Lambert’s movements were concerned. Apart from today. Today Lambert wasn’t supposed to be in the office.

  “"I’m glad I caught you.” Lambert seemed in no hurry to move, settling into his ‘relaxed pose’ with his feet shoulder-width apart and his hands clasped in front of him. It reminded her of a soldier, which was no doubt the impression he wanted to give. She’d worked out long ago he did nothing by chance.

  “Oh?” Despite herself, Honor took a step closer to Smith, almost as though she could draw strength from his tall, broad-shouldered form.