Twilight Crook

by Eva Chase

  He was all the evidence I needed that I had no idea how to make an even semi-romantic relationship work with a fellow human being, let alone a shadowkind. All we’d been doing was hooking up, and somehow I’d failed to handle that well enough to end things on good terms. I wasn’t even sure what exactly Leland had wanted that I hadn’t been delivering, since he’d never outright asked for us to become more—or acted interested in anything about me other than what I could offer between the sheets.

  Men. Maybe I should stick to one-night-stands from here on out. How big a catastrophe could I create when I spent less than twenty-four hours with a guy?

  Huyen had bounded down the wall with impressive springiness, and the other members who’d been partway up descended as well. Ellen beckoned us together into a circle.

  “Why are we meeting here?” one of the other women asked. “Is something wrong with the theater?”

  Both of the Fund’s leaders glanced at me. “Sorsha came to us with a somewhat… unusual situation,” Ellen said. She tapped her fingers against her lips, and I wondered what popcorn flavors she’d been experimenting with to stain the tips that shade of purple: lavender? Eggplant? “For the sake of caution, we decided it was best to discuss it in a setting we’ve never used before. Sorsha, why don’t you explain the rest?”

  I dragged in a breath and laid out the scenario to the other members the same way I’d explained it to Ellen and Huyen, as succinctly as I could. I was just finishing up when one of the gym employees ambled our way.

  “Hey,” she said. “Everything all right over here?”

  It must be getting noticeable that we weren’t using the equipment. “Just doing a little catching up before we climb some more,” Huyen said cheerfully, and shot us all a look that said, Get moving.

  Time for the fun part. I checked my rope and gripped it tightly before wedging my foot against one of the lower holds. Leveraging my weight with my good arm, I hefted myself up. Maybe I’d just hang out right here.

  “We need to look into these people,” I said over my shoulder to the others, who were gathering along the wall around me. “Find out where they’re operating out of, how they’re raising their money, and anything else we can about them. But we’ve got to be careful to make sure they don’t catch on that we’re interested. Whatever we find out, we can pass on to the higher shadowkind and they’ll decide how to handle it.”

  Those higher shadowkind would just happen to be the ones I was currently shacking up with.

  “I don’t know about this,” said a middle-aged guy named Everett as he edged his way from one handhold to another. “It sounds like this organization is very… intense. If they do find out we’ve been meddling with their business, how are they going to crack down on us?”

  “Hey,” Vivi said, bouncing a little against the wall. “We’ve managed not to clue any outsiders in to what we’re actually working on for however long the Fund has existed, haven’t we?”

  I shot her a grateful look. “And we won’t be meddling,” I added. “I don’t want us to stick our necks out that far—I agree that it’s not safe. Better to let the shadowkind”—and me—“handle any actual response. We’ll just be information-gathering.”

  “If this is your pet project, I don’t see why you can’t gather information on your own,” Leland muttered.

  To my frustration, a couple of the others murmured noises of agreement. What the hell had they joined up for if they were going to turn chicken the second the shadowkind really needed us?

  I bit my tongue against asking that out loud. Thankfully, I’d said as much in politer terms to our leaders the other day, and they hadn’t forgotten. Ellen hefted herself a little higher and peered down at the rest of us. “This is the whole reason the Fund was created. We shouldn’t claim we’re out to support the shadowkind however we can if we won’t get involved when they’re in the most danger they’ve ever faced.”

  “We didn’t realize we’d be up against some big, secret army or whatever when we joined,” Everett protested.

  “Yeah,” said the woman who’d asked about the change in location. “Let the shadowkind deal with the info-gathering and everything else if it’s so important to them. Half the time they don’t even help us helping their own kind.”

  That was sadly true, as Omen well knew. “This is different,” I started.

  Leland cut me off with a scowl. “Only because you decided it is. These people have been operating for who knows how long already. If the shadowkind haven’t figured it out yet, that’s on them.”

  Did he really care about the beings from our sister realm that little, or was he taking his animosity toward me out on them? Ugh, why had I ever thought this dude was worth letting anywhere near me, let alone into me?

  Vivi spoke up before I had to. “Look, you just explained why it’s important that we pitch in. It’s clearer than a crystal under a cloudless sky. The shadowkind haven’t been able to figure the problem out on their own. They’re not used to mortal-realm resources and strategies. We are, so obviously we could find out some things they haven’t been able to.”

  “Exactly.” I wished I wasn’t dangling from a rope partway up a wall so I could have given my best friend a hug. Put a dunce cap on me for ever thinking Vivi wasn’t up to facing off against this conspiracy. I’d gotten so caught up in trying to protect her, I’d forgotten how strong and smart she was.

  Another round of murmurs carried along the wall, but this one sounded less decisive. Huyen, up at the top again, cleared her throat as she headed back down.

  “As always, participation in our activities is optional. I think Sorsha and Vivian have made a reasonable case. We’ll proceed with caution, of course, but we can at least put out a few feelers. Especially—how are these people raising their money? Coming at them from that angle could reveal all sorts of things the shadowkind aren’t aware of, since it’ll be all between the organization and other mortals.”

  Leland descended from his perch with a huff, but to my relief, at least a couple of the other members nodded, if hesitantly. Vivi’s brilliant grin bolstered my spirits.

  “I’m going to talk to my contacts tonight,” I said. I wouldn’t mention how much more intimate I’d gotten with most of them beyond talking. “I’ll see if they know anything about the fundraising side that could point us in the right direction. You all could look through public records to check for any big events with a purpose that sounds suspiciously vague.”

  “And we should all know what that looks like from our own efforts.” Huyen chuckled and soared through the air the rest of the way to the ground. “You heard her, people. That’s this week’s assignment. Let’s not let ourselves down.”

  10

  Ruse

  “Well,” I said, peering out of Omen’s car at the farm we’d driven up to, “this place is gloom personified, isn’t it? I have to say I preferred mini-golf.”

  By all appearances, the property was abandoned. The barn door hung open at an odd angle, and only weeds grew in the fields in uneven tufts, their yellowing leaves turned eerie by the moonlight. When I slipped out of the station wagon, the smells of dry dirt and old wood met my nose. A lopsided weathervane creaked as the night breeze briefly spun it.

  Sorsha made a face where she’d gotten out beside me. “I see your gloomy and raise you ten creepies. But I guess the Company of Light needs the cover of darkness to do their dirty work.”

  We’d been directed here by the hacker girl who now saw me as the bestest friend she’d ever had. It’d been a particularly productive session on the computer, uncovering not just this hand-off with a collector who clearly hadn’t gotten the message from the last one but also a fundraising gala happening in a few days. This Company had gotten away with an awful lot, but mostly because they hadn’t faced off against an opponent who could really challenge them. The four of us with Sorsha in the mix were basically a dream team, if I did say so myself.

  The location of our current ambush looked more li
ke a nightmare. Thorn and Omen uprooted a couple of wilting shrubs to conceal the car more thoroughly where our boss had parked it behind a shed. The meetup was supposed to happen on the far side of the barn and not for another hour, but I wasn’t going to argue against their caution. I had no desire to spend another second behind silver-and-iron bars.

  Snap had ventured into one of the fields. He bent to sniff—and taste the impressions around—one of the taller weeds.

  “Nothing has touched this except the wind and the rain,” he said, and glanced toward the brick house in the distance. There might have been a FOR SALE sign outside it once, but it appeared to have fallen off the wooden post it’d hung from. “Isn’t this a place for growing food?”

  I came over, giving him a teasing tap with my elbow. “You’re not going to find anything to eat here, my friend. I’d bet this place hasn’t grown crops in years.”

  The devourer made a vaguely disappointed sound and headed toward the barn. We’d agreed that he would test the area for any sign of past transactions. There were only so many secluded spots in and around the city—the Company had to reuse some of them, especially if they’d been operating since the time when Sorsha’s fairy guardian had been attacked.

  We all stole across the field after Snap, Sorsha rubbing her arms even though there was only a slight chill to the summer night. Her gaze twitched at another creak of the weathervane.

  “Doesn’t it seem a little strange that they’d arrange another hand-off so soon after the last one?” she said. “If they were bringing in new shadowkind every week, they’d have needed a much bigger facility than the one where they were holding Omen.”

  “Many of them might be lesser shadowkind—smaller ones with some unusual or extreme powers,” Thorn said.

  Omen nodded. “Or they could have other facilities. They certainly moved their operations from that construction site quickly enough. It took the woman quite a while to dig up the details of this one, which I wouldn’t expect if they’d wanted us to find it. But that is possible—which is exactly why we’re going to proceed with just as much care as always. Let’s see where we can place our mortal so she won’t create any catastrophes.”

  Sorsha shot him a withering look, but I thought he’d said it with a little less animosity than usual. As much as her trick with the pie had infuriated him in the moment, I suspected he’d gained a little more respect for her at the same time.

  We’d just passed into the thicker darkness of the barn’s shadow when Thorn, who’d taken the lead, barked a warning and lashed out with one of those rock-hard fists of his. I stiffened, expecting the meaty whack of that fist meeting flesh… but instead there was a soft whoomph and a woody cracking.

  We hustled closer and found the lunk standing over his toppled foe: a tatty scarecrow with straw now burst from the split canvas of its head. I couldn’t resist clapping Thorn on the back. The great hero of our time. “Excellent work. Now it won’t hurt anyone else ever again.”

  The warrior glowered at me. Omen nudged at the straw with the toe of his boot. “Better overly fast reflexes than not fast enough. Let’s see what our devourer has turned up.”

  Snap was still edging along the side of the barn. He moved from there to the sagging wooden fence, his normally cheerful face gone solemn with concentration. Finally, he straightened up and came to join us.

  “I caught a trace of a person passing by in a few spots,” he said. “Also, at one time there were younger humans who’d been drinking something with alcohol and were dizzy with it—they were gathering in the barn. I don’t think they had any connection to the Company.”

  “Drunken teens? This would be the perfect place to party.” Sorsha glanced around. “They cleaned up after themselves pretty well.”

  “We haven’t looked in the barn yet,” I pointed out.

  “And it might have been years ago,” Snap added. “I can’t judge the timing all that narrowly. I didn’t pick up anything to do with shadowkind, but if there’ve been other hand-offs here before, the people involved wouldn’t necessarily have touched anything to leave impressions.”

  He drooped a little as if he felt he’d failed us by not discovering more. I’d have cracked a joke to perk him up, but Sorsha was already grasping his arm with the warm little smile she seemed to have invented just for him.

  “You didn’t pick up any sign of a threat,” she said. “That’s good to know.”

  He beamed back at her, his discomfort eased, and while I’d meant it when I’d told her that I was happy to see her take her pleasures wherever she could find them, the sight of them gazing at each other like that started an uncomfortable sensation nibbling at my gut. I wouldn’t call it jealousy—what kind of incubus would I be then?—but it was something. Something I didn’t want to look any more closely at. We had bigger fish to fry here.

  Omen was in full admiral mode. He motioned to each of us in turn. “Thorn, watch the road and alert us if you see any vehicles heading this way. Snap, bring the rest of the equipment from the car. I don’t smell any humans around the barn now, so it should be safe. Ruse, you figure out Sorsha’s best vantage point with her. I’m going to check over the grounds farther afield.”

  My assignment suited me just fine. I offered Sorsha my elbow with a playful dip of my head. “Miss Blaze, if you would accompany me?”

  Her lips twitched with amusement. Even as she rolled her eyes, she accepted my arm. “I think I can figure out my own vantage points, but I won’t say no to having company. Maybe you can turn on that glow of yours so we can see in there.”

  She was joking, but Omen cut his gaze toward us anyway. “No special effects, please. We’re trying to keep a low profile.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “I can manage to resist the urge to shine up the place.” Besides, it would have felt strange shifting into my full shadowkind form anywhere other than in bed. We shadowkind revealed our true selves so seldom in the mortal realm that our more human guises were what came naturally after a while.

  The inside of the barn was dark, though. Once we’d stepped much past the doorway, I could only make out the outlines of the shapes around us—some sort of large metal milk tank here, a row of stalls there. The odor of musty hay wafted around us. Not the most delightful perfume. Sorsha brought her hand to her nose as if stifling a sneeze.

  I spotted a couple of squashed beer cans when I wandered close to one wall, but otherwise our mortal was right—the partying teens hadn’t left much trace of their adventures here. Or else someone had come by since the partying and done a quick cleaning job.

  A hay loft loomed high above our heads in the larger room, but if there’d been a ladder to access it, it was long gone. Sorsha frowned at it. “I think there’s a window up there—that might be a good place for my stake-out. I just need a way up.”

  “We could have Thorn toss you,” I suggested.

  She swatted my arm and headed down the aisle beside the stalls. As I followed her, her pace sped up. “Oh, wait. Maybe that’s—”

  Whatever she was aiming for, she didn’t make it there. One of the stall doors burst open as something large and heavy slammed into it with a metallic groan.

  My supernatural skills might not be in the realm of combat, but I was still plenty quick on my feet. Sexual prowess required a certain nimbleness. The knobby monster of machinery careened toward Sorsha, and I dashed forward. I yanked her out of the way into a nearby stall on the opposite side—almost fast enough.

  The mass of steel clipped her wrist, just shy of smashing her hand into the post beside her, and a bone snapped. We careened into the stall together, hitting the wall next to the door.

  Sorsha gasped, the sound tight with pain. As she bit her lip, her eyes squeezed shut for a moment. Her left hand hung limp from her injured wrist, which was already swelling.

  My pulse lurched. I held her motionless against the wall as another mechanical groan carried along the aisle with a heavy thump. If Omen had been wrong—if there were Com
pany soldiers lurking in here—Thorn would be all the way down at the road by now, and the boss who knew where. I wasn’t equipped for a fight.

  Sorsha blinked, her lips parting with a shaky breath, and I caught her gaze. “We have to stay quiet,” I murmured, and then, because it was the only way I could help her stay that way, I brought my mouth to hers.

  I couldn’t have imposed any of my supernatural intoxication on her to heighten the sensations while she wore that noxious brooch—and I wouldn’t have regardless, having promised her as much—but I was plenty skilled as a lover without that enhancement. And I knew this woman now in ways I doubted even Snap did.

  I swallowed any sounds she might have made and coaxed her tongue to twine with mine, leaning my body close enough to meld against hers, careful of her wrist and her still-bandaged shoulder. Her left arm stayed rigid at her side, but the rest of her melted into my embrace. I hadn’t lost my golden touch yet.

  As she kissed me back, her other hand came up to grip the back of my neck. She was throwing herself headlong into my attempt at distracting her from the pain—and damn if her response wasn’t distracting me too. Why had I started this again?

  No further noise reached my ears from the rest of the barn. Had the apparent assault really just been a precarious piece of farm machinery tipping over and not some kind of trap?

  I didn’t really want to stop this to find out. Sorsha’s body adjusted against mine so pliantly, heat coursing between us. Shadows above and below, I’d never longed for anything more than to throw myself headlong into this burning, even though the tremors of energy that passed from her into me were barely more than a trickle thanks to her brooch.

  No, I wanted to incite the passion in her just for the carnal satisfaction of it. To be inside her again—to feel her eager slickness around me—to know she wanted to be that close to me despite everything else…

  A chill cut through the flames of my desire. That last longing, to be embraced fully by her not just in body but mind and heart as well—I had no business thinking that way. That kind of desire had nearly wrecked me before.