by Ebony Olson
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Spectra
Ebony Olson
Copyright © 2017 by Inkitt
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
http://ebonyolson.com/
To Gracie and Kate for listening, reading, and supporting my passion. To my very patient husband who not only endures my staying up all night to write, but encourages me to keep going when I doubt. To the Pxy, without whom I would never have started writing. To all my readers who made publishing Spectra a possibility.
Thank you.
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER ONE
Spectra
I stepped down the stairs effortlessly. The boots I wore were more practical than fashionable. I think that was the appeal of the Goth club. I could wear practical clothing and still fit in as long as it was black. I had pale skin and long black hair, so by adding a black dress, black tights, boots, and a military jacket, I automatically appeared Goth. I added black eye makeup that made my pale blue eyes pop, and I was right to go.
When I reached the basement level of the club, I moved through the crowd and slid into an empty space at the bar.
“Evening, Spectra, the usual?” Tommy, the British bartender and owner of the club, acknowledged my arrival. He didn't smile; I don't think I'd ever seen him smile in the years I'd been frequenting this bar. He was your typical punk Goth, hair that should have been blond dyed shock black, makeup, and piercings to go with it.
Compared to the other club patrons, I was definitely the most conservative. My ears were pierced, I bore a couple of tattoos - nothing big and flashy, and I steered away from the studded cuffs that adorned several necks and wrists throughout the crowd.
I nodded at Tommy and pulled my purse out to pay. Tommy put the still-sealed bottle of water on the bar and waited while I cracked the seal myself and handed him the lid. It was an understanding between the staff that served me that I needed to open my own drinks, and if my drink ever left my sight, even just for a second, it was trash.
I handed Tommy cash to pay, and he shook his head, “I'll put it on your client's tab like usual when you're working.”
I frowned, wondering if I'd missed an email from a client. “I'm not working tonight.”
Tommy raised a heavily pierced brow, and I wondered how much more attractive he'd be without the steel. “Well, the guy asked for you specifically. He's been waiting an hour.”
Tommy's eyes drifted down the bar to an attractive man in a suit. He stood out like a sore thumb for more than just the outfit. He was obviously uncomfortable in his surroundings, but was making the most of it and enjoying what looked to be a scotch. He was watching Tommy and I talk, his eyes casual. Despite the noise in the club, I held no delusion he hadn’t heard my name when I arrived and had been listening to the exchange.
My eyes grew angry as I looked down at my water. I shook my head and handed Tommy the money. “Not my client. I don't work with his kind.”
Tommy nodded understandingly and took the money as he moved to serve someone else. I picked up my water and drank most of it down in one hit, intending to leave straight away. I didn't like a stranger asking for me by name. Usually, if a client recommended my services to someone new, they would arrange the meeting with me via email. Not since the early days had anybody simply turned up at a club I frequented and asked for me.
Tommy approached as I finished the bottle. “Thanks, Tommy, I'm out of here.”
“Spectra, he wants to meet you.” Tommy slid a business card across the bar to me and continued on.
I picked up the card. It was blank except for a phone number. I flipped it over and lifted my brows. In beautiful cursive writing, it said I'll pay whatever price. I flipped the card again and looked at the number, still not looking down the bar to the suit.
I sighed. I looked to Tommy and gave a small nod before turning as if leaving for the door. Cutting through the writhing bodies on the dance floor, I made a sharp turn towards the back corner of the club where the crowd was minimal.
When I got to what Tommy had affectionately nicknamed as my office, I put my back to the wall and waited. The suit emerged from the crowd a few meters away, though he was tall enough that I'd been able to track his naturally dark hair through the crowd. He was pale enough that if he ditched the suit and slipped into some black jeans and a heavy metal shirt, he could have blended right in. He looked to be in his late twenties, early thirties at the most, but that meant nothing when it came to his kind.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet me,” his accent was aged, Welsh. “I'm sorry I wasn't aware there was a standard protocol to engaging your services. I've heard you're the best.”
“You should have also heard I don't work for your kind.”
“I did, but I need someone good, and quick, and you come highly recommended.”
“By who?” I lifted a brow, wondering who was whispering my name in the wrong circles.
His ice blue eyes focused in on me a moment, weighing his response options. “I'll pay whatever price you ask.”
“Your firstborn.” I didn't smile with the sarcasm.
“Died centuries ago.” His face stayed emotionally blank.
“Then I guess you're out of luck.” I held his business card out in front and ripped it in half before dropping it on the floor. “Forget my name, forget we met, and whoever is using my name in your circles needs their neck broken. I don't work for predators.”
I took two steps towards the crowded dance floor. He grabbed my arm firmly but not aggressively. I met his eyes and noticed the strain around the edges. “Miss...” he looked puzzled for a second.
“Michaels,” I answered for him. “Spectra Michaels. And you are?”
“Mr. Bay Ryder. I need a full set of documents in two days.”
I closed my eyes in annoyance. “Damn it!”
I took the two steps back to the wall, grabbing Mr. Ryder by his expensive-looking suit jacket and pulling him hard against the front of me. He was surprised, but his eyes nearly left his head when I started pulling his shirt out of his waistband. He opened his mouth to object, and I gave him my best death stare.
“Shut it. You come here asking for me by name, with no formal introduction, and then proceed to state your business openly, even after I politely turned you down. You're not a cop, so I'd say you're NSIO.” The Nachtwelt Security and Int
elligence Office is the law in the Nachtwelt. It keeps the supernatural hidden from humans. Forging identification documents definitely impinged on human Federal law, but for obvious reasons, was a service the Nachtwelt utilized regularly. However, helping citizens of the Nachtwelt change their identity and disappear entirely may just infringe on Nachtwelt law enough to get me in trouble. I had no intention of being busted by them.
I slid my hands in against his bare abdomen, caressing up with splayed hands to his upper torso, before circling around and searching his back. As I brought my arms back to the front, I started unbuckling his belt. Mr. Ryder grasped my wrists, his eyes fierce on me. While the search of his upper body seemed to bore him, this more invasive search angered him.
“I don't believe this is the place for a strip search, Miss Michaels.”
I smiled. “See that girl over there.” I tilted my head and watched as he turned to look. He found the man with his back to the room, his hips moving back and forth. I saw his pupils dilating when he realized there was a girl kneeling in front of the man, her face hidden by his body. “I don't think she's searching for a wire, so trust me, no one is going to think for a second what we're about.”
I unzipped his fly as his angry eyes met mine. I maintained eye contact as I slipped my hand in smoothing down to the base of his flaccid member, circling around, feeling around his sacs, and down his inner thighs. I was impressed when the most he reacted was a slight pulse against my forearm. I slipped my hands around to check for anything at the back. When I was sure he was clean of any listening device, I withdrew my hands from his pants. He stepped back a small step to right his clothing. I took out the small bottle of hand sanitizer I kept in my bag and cleaned my hands till I could access the bathroom.
“You look disappointed I didn't get hard for you.” Even his voice was tight.
“Relieved actually,” I responded honestly. “Admittedly though, you are the first of your kind who I've let get this close to me. So, I'm not sure if that's just a physiological thing for you, that you prefer men, or that you're so old you need pharmaceutical intervention.”
“If you are satisfied that I'm not setting you up?” He stepped closer, and this time his height made him very imposing as he pressed his hands to the wall on either side of my head and put his mouth to my ear. I only came up to his shoulder, so it forced him to move his lower body away from me. “I require a full set of documents that could pass the most rigorous scrutiny within two days. You will take me on as a client and once you provide what I'm after, I will happily forget your name and where to find you. The only option you have in completing this service, now that we are so intimately acquainted, is how much you are going to charge.”
Wow! I'd really pissed him off doing the wire search. I met his eyes with the same fierceness and pulled my own business card out of my bag. It was a black card with just an email address on it in silver print. On the flip side, I quickly wrote a figure using a silver pen. It was a ridiculous amount to ask for. Nearly four times my usual fee for a rush job. I added the name of a church and tomorrow morning's Mass time.
“I need passport photos and clear copies of your current documentation. If you are going to change any details other than age, I need that listed as well. Mass is at six in the morning. I'm gathering holy ground isn't an issue for you?” Because I'd run across enough of his kind in daylight to know sunlight wasn't. He shook his head, his face back to a mask of emotion-free patience as he took the card. “Good. I expect a quarter of the fee as a deposit, the rest upon delivery of the goods. I'll give you a pickup point tomorrow.”
“Here is my most recent birth certificate.” He pulled out two folded pieces of paper, one that looked old. “I just need the birth year to change, and my parents’ names. The rest I will get to you tomorrow. I will email you the address of a party I am attending on Sunday night. That is where you will deliver it to me.” His voice was matter-of-fact.
I shook my head, taking the folded papers and putting them in my pocket. “I'm not going near any party of yours.”
Mr. Ryder slipped my business card into his pocket, bored already. “The party is not mine; I'm merely a guest. The majority of attendees will be your kind, Miss Michaels; you will be perfectly safe. I will see you at church tomorrow.”
He turned on his heel and walked towards the exit, the crowd of bodies parting easily as if repelled by him as he moved through. I swallowed hard. Never in the past five years was I ever out of control of a situation as I was just then. I avoided predators of any kind. I could have been very rich very fast if I took their business, but I'd kept well away. I didn't like that my name was even mentioned in their circles, and I especially didn't like how easily Mr. Bay Ryder just took away the one thing I worked very hard to keep.
I blew out a breath in frustration and made for the exit. If I was going to deliver a full set of forged documents in two days, I was going to need to start tonight.
Bay
I waited in the dark outside the club for her to leave. There was something about her that made me more curious than I'd been in centuries, starting with the way she looked at me. I didn't have to wait long. She made her way out of the club and immediately crossed the road, dodging traffic. I waited for her to be quite a distance away before I stepped out of the darkness and into her drift. A person’s drift was like a smoky trail of their aura.
Hers was fainter than most other humans, making me even more curious as I casually followed the fading color channel of her aura. Most humans ignored the predators amongst them, but even those who were aware didn't know that they could be hunted by more than scent, and Miss Michaels was obviously very aware of what lurked amongst her own kind.
When I'd started looking for a master forger, her name came with a warning. Apparently, predators who tried to deal with this master forger had a tendency to disappear altogether. There was only a couple, and no one could say for certain they approached the forger or that she was involved in any way. Her name just came automatically with that warning.
With the whispered warning that came with her name, I'd expected something different when I finally found her, and it took quite an effort to track this human to one location. Lots of effort and a lot of bribes to people who wouldn't normally deal with my kind. She was beautiful, not in the model way, but in that old world natural beauty that let you know she put no effort into her appearance, and in fact tried to detract from it. So when the bartender called her name, I'd looked past her and at the woman nearly twice her age. It took a moment to realize the young girl, who barely looked old enough to vote, was my forger.
Her age was the first thing to surprise me. That she recognized me immediately for what I was, floored me. But when she watched me approach her, and touched me, without an ounce of attraction, her fingers sparking electricity under my skin, I was speechless. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been surprised by anyone, but it was all nothing compared to the moment she made my cock twitch. Two hundred years since I grew tired of women for anything except sustenance, and this young human caused me to react.
I followed her drift through the many twists and turns of the city streets. It took me fifteen minutes to notice I'd completed a full loop of the city area the club was based in. I realized she'd taken evasive maneuvers to ensure she wasn't followed. To cover her tracks, Spectra walked past fast food outlets and the backs of clubs where the stench of beer hung in the air to cover her scent. She turned enough close corners that anyone following by sight would quickly lose her.
Her aura led me to the government business area of town before it disappeared into the back door of a building. The aura was quite faint as I approached the building, as if it was already hours old instead of minutes. In fact, the aura was faint enough that had I been a younger predator, I would have lost her trail several blocks ago. I took note of the “Employees Only” sign on the door and the number pad entry before making my way around the block to find the front of the buildin
g.
I stood across the road from the births registry office and felt the strange sensation of smiling for what must have been the first time in decades. I made my way down the side street and located a dark niche to hide myself in, which allowed me to see the back of the building, but also if anyone walked down the main street. An hour later, a well-dressed woman walked out of the building next door with a man. They kissed, and he hopped into his car to drive away while she walked quickly in my direction. As she passed by my hiding spot, I moved quickly to pull her into the darkness, hand covering her mouth before my mouth found the pulse in her neck.
Her neck was heavily perfumed in a horrible floral concoction and the man's scent. Her blood, however, was full of endorphins and feel-good hormones produced from recent sexual satisfaction. I closed my eyes as I took enough to sate my thirst and enjoyed the taste of pleasure. I released her gently and set her aside so she could sleep off her blood loss. When she woke, she would wonder why she had collapsed here, but nothing would remind her of me. The bite on her neck would appear merely as a bruise and would be mistaken as the work of her lover.
Three hours later, I started to think I had missed Miss Michaels leaving while I was distracted by dinner. Then I noticed her faint drift leading away down the street even though I'd never seen her physically leave the building. I checked on the woman who was sleeping off my feed at my feet and stepped out to follow the forger.
The aura became stronger again a few blocks later. Another few turns bought her raven hair and fit body back into view. She stood at a late-night food vendor making a purchase with a few teenagers as she chatted with them. I watched her pay for the food and distribute it to her companions before waving goodbye and continuing on.
I was starting to think Miss Michaels was a night owl when she finally entered a swanky apartment building. This building I knew all too well, and if Miss Michaels were visiting one particular occupant, I would not be happy.
