Embrace the Night

by Alexandra Kane

  By now, dusk was retreating into night. The city lights twinkled against the dark backdrop. Pedestrians filled the sidewalks, heading into the various bars and restaurants in the downtown area. She inhaled and blew the breath out. Nothing like the Capital city at night.

  John leaned against her car, his arms folded across his chest just like before. When he saw them approaching, she could swear he was sizing Marcelo up, as if they were involved in some sort of competition. Pushing that thought aside, she made the introductions. “Marcelo, this is John Groves. John, meet Marcelo Spirelli.”

  Marcelo extended his hand, and John hesitated a moment before grabbing it. They shook, and the sorcerer stepped back. “So, John, what is your power, if you don't mind telling me.”

  John bristled, but answered, “I'm a telekinetic. And you, Mr. Spirelli?”

  Marcelo waved his hand. “Please, please, not so formal. We are going to be working together, so call me Marcelo. And to answer your question, I am a sorcerer.” He laughed, brushed a wisp of wavy dark hair from his face. “By night at least. By day I am the proprietor of Spirelli Landscaping.”

  That seemed to please John, she noticed, as the scowl on his face softened. “I see. Well, I teach history at Saint Augustine's. It's nice to meet you, Marcelo”

  He nodded in response. “Likewise.”

  She clapped her hands together. “Well, now that we all know each other, I think we'd better get going.”

  The three tucked themselves into her sedan, and she drove back the way she'd come, toward regional headquarters. When they'd arrived, she turned to John.

  “I think I'm going to enjoy being in the lead on this investigation,” she announced, enjoying the combination wince/frown that came over his face.

  He groaned.

  Then Marcelo asked from the backseat, “Who is that?”

  She turned to her driver side window, only to see a shadowy figure standing next to the car.

  The man lifted his hand toward her door handle.

  And she realized she'd forgotten to lock it.

  CHAPTER 2

  John watched Tatiana nearly jump right out of her seat as the driver side door was pulled open for her. The figure, shrouded in the long, black, cloak like coat with his face hidden from view by a hood probably looked very frightening to her. He recognized the person outside right away, but why miss an opportunity to see 'Ms. In Charge' sweat? Casually, he called out, “Hey, J How's Lalah feeling these days?”

  His good friend Junjie Yu ducked his head down. The hood fell back, and his face became visible in the car's headliner light. “Hey John. She's good. That round belly really looks good on her.” Then he addressed the visibly shaking Tatiana. “Sorry, Lieutenant Yates. I'm assigned to work on this case with you. Just opening the door for you.”

  John stifled his laugh, but Marcelo did not.

  She frowned, composed herself. “Nice to meet you, Agent...”

  “Junjie Yu,” he replied.

  “Junjie,” she echoed. “It's refreshing to see that chivalry is still alive and well.” She cut a disapproving look at him, there in the passenger seat. “At least for some folks.”

  He bristled. What is she trying to say? He often held the door for his students, even helped the young ladies carry their books on occasion. They'd just met, and already she was judging his manners? This woman is entirely too opinionated.

  They exited the car, and Junjie followed them into headquarters.

  He walked behind Tatiana, and noted the change in her outfit. The black leggings encased her shapely thighs and curvy behind in an enticing way. She may be infuriating, but damn she's fine.

  “There's some information laid out for us in the conference room,” Junjie said, leading them in that direction. “Dr. Black told me about it when I was called in.”

  The conference room was as drab looking as any corporation's might be, but with many more bells and whistles. The walls, with their subtle gray and white pinstripe pattern and framed portraits of famous PHOENIX operatives, belied the true nature of the headquarters. His eyes fell on the oil painting of the founder, General J.T. “Phoenix” Pierce, a decorated veteran of the Vietnam War, which covered a safe containing emergency weapons and first aid supplies. And that was just the beginning of the hidden secrets the building held.

  He took a seat on the far side of the round, polished cherry table, because he hated to sit with his back to a door. Marcelo and Junjie apparently shared his sentiment, taking flanking seats around him. The lady lieutenant occupied the seat in the table's middle, nearer to the door.

  On the table's surface, a large map of the North Carolina Museum of History had been laid out.

  She launched into her speech. "The map has been marked with all the key locations we'll need to know to handle this case.” She stood, bumping her chair back with her behind and leaned over the map. John found his eyes raking over her shapely breasts beneath the tunic she wore. Struggling to focus, he dragged his eyes back to the map as she gestured to the markings it displayed. “The map has been color coded for us. Red marks indicate entrance/exit points to the building. Green marks represent high value or extremely rare items on exhibit. Blue marks are items that are already missing, and yellow marks surround highly publicized exhibits that may be potential targets. I'll be sending you all home with a small scale copy for you to memorize.”

  The men around the table all nodded their understanding. Then Junjie asked, “What are our specific roles in this mission, ma'am?”

  She stood, straightening her top. “I was just about to get into that. We've all been assigned to this mission for very specific reasons. Marcelo, since we believe sublimers are involved in the thefts, you've been assigned to create a containment spell or potion of some kind. Otherwise we'll never be able to catch them and hold them.”

  Marcelo looked thoughtful. “As soon as I get home I will begin work on this.”

  Then she turned to Junjie. “Your unique skills as a poly-morph will be used to infiltrate the group once we have positively identified them.”

  Junjie clapped his hands together. “I understand. I will be ready when the time comes.”

  Hmm. What are they using me for?

  Before he could form the question, she turned those hazel eyes on him. “John, we intend to use your power of telekinesis to aid in the capture of the thieves. If you can move them to containment from a remote location, it will mean less danger for the team.”

  He shrugged. “Alright, but I don't really see the purpose of that.”

  She leaned nearer to him. “You will saving us resources, such as manpower and ammunition.”

  He cupped his chin in his palm, rubbing it. Seems pretty important when she puts it that way. When he focused on her again, she wore a sly smile, and he could swear he saw a glimmer of something in her eyes...mischief? Perhaps desire? Before he could analyze it further the gleam was gone. She withdrew, turned her focus away from him.

  He watched her retreating gaze with amusement. There was definitely more to the lady lieutenant than the hard, bossy exterior she presented. He imagined that beneath her demeanor lay a soft, feminine, slightly kinky center, and he relished the idea of sampling it for himself.

  Marcelo's accented voice broke into his thoughts. “What's next on the agenda? Because if there is nothing more for me to do here, I need to begin work on the containment charm.”

  Junjie stood, stretched his arms wide, then clasped his hands in front of him. “You don't have to tell us if it's classified or something, but you never told us what your duty is.”

  She smiled again, and this one was laced with self satisfaction. “It's simple, boys. I'm the muscle of this operation.”

  That drew a chuckle from his throat before he could stop it. What is she, five foot ten? Maybe 160? Unless curves can kill...

  She leveled a withering stare at him. “Is something funny, Agent Groves?”

  He stifled the next chuckle, cleared his throat. “No, ma'am.”<
br />
  She narrowed her eyes. “I heard you laughing.” As she pounded her fist on the table, it rattled violently, and the floor beneath his feet vibrated with the impact. “Let me assure you, John, this is no joke. Tiger shifters like me are known to be among the strongest and the fastest of our kind. Only cheetahs can outrun us, and no big cat out-muscles us.” She gave him her back as she moved toward the conference room door. “So, as they say, you'd better recognize.” Striding out, she shouted back over her shoulder, “Weapons training downstairs in five minutes!”

  After she and her attitude left the room, he found Marcelo and Junjie staring at him.

  Leaning back in his chair, he folded his arms across his chest. “Stop looking at me like that, I didn't mean to laugh.”

  Marcelo shook his head, standing from his own seat. “Perhaps not, but thanks to you we are about to be trapped in a room with an armed, angry tigress.”

  The grinning Junjie slapped him on the back. “Yeah, way to go, smooth operator.”

  He stood, and the three men trudged down to the basement weapons training facility to face their fate.

  ***

  The nerve! If I can get through this training without shooting him it will be a miracle!

  Tatiana did her best to push away her irritation as she all but stomped into the weapons cage to retrieve her weapon of choice, the Excalibur Relayer Y25 crossbow. It was quite a showpiece, with its glossy, hardwood stock and special camouflage limbs. She'd never been a fan of guns, but somehow the idea of felling the enemy with a weapon so skillfully made by a craftsman seemed almost poetic. Holding the weapon out in front of her, she loaded a ten point, twenty inch bolt into the chamber, sighing inwardly as it clicked into place. No fancy factory equipment could make this. No, this killing machine was made by hand, and that's just the way she liked it.

  She was still gripping the weapon when her all male team entered the basement training facility. Spinning around, she aimed the crossbow in their direction. Junjie and Marcelo smoothly eased aside, leaving John's chest right in her cross-hairs.

  His wide eyes met her wintry ones.

  Junjie quipped, “John, I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't tell you this. I think you should get out of the way. Or at least try to get on her good side.”

  Johnny Trench Coat had the nerve to groan aloud. “Are you really that upset about this?”

  Marcelo slipped past her, into the weapons cage, and returned with a .38 special handgun. “I'm going to the shooting range,” he announced, making his way to the very back of the cavernous basement facility. The range was located in a sound proof building, just beyond the main building, fashioned to look like a barn.

  “I'll join you,” Junjie called after him. He carefully stepped around her as she stood like a statue, still aiming the crossbow at John. Returning from the cage with a Magnum in hand, he jogged away in the direction Marcelo had gone without another word.

  Left alone with him, she didn't know what was more annoying: the way he'd laughed at her earlier, or the way he frowned at her at the moment. “If we're going to work together, and you're going to be under my command, you need to learn to respect me.”

  He removed his fedora, bowed in a dramatic fashion, and said, “Yes, ma'am.”

  “Be serious, John.”

  “I am being serious,” he tossed back. “And I think that if you're going to lead an all male team, you've got to be way less sensitive.”

  That's it. Enough of his foolishness.

  Without another word, she pulled the trigger.

  CHAPTER 3

  John focused his full attention on the crossbow bolt whizzing through the air towards him. Time seemed to slow for him. He lifted his right hand, raised his index and middle fingertips. A moment before the object pierced his chest, he directed it downward with a force that surprised him. The bolt clattered to the floor at his feet, echoing against the hard concrete floor.

  He looked into Tatiana's eyes and found her smiling. “Good job, John. It's nice to know you can focus under pressure.”

  His jaw nearly dropped open, but he held it together. Is she really this damn crazy? “You've got to be kidding me.”

  She lowered the weapon, shrugged. “What? As the lead on this mission, I have to know exactly where the skills of my team are on the spectrum.”

  He approached her slowly. The look on her face reminded him so much of Miranda Valdez, one of his crazy ex-girlfriends, it almost scared him. “Are you telling me you're over that little incident upstairs, and you shot at me just to test my abilities?”

  She rolled her eyes, touched the tip of the crossbow to her full lips. “Well, let's just say my annoyance with you made it much easier to discharge my weapon.”

  He shook his head in disbelief. Why is God always dropping the good looking mental cases into my life? “Okay, Lieutenant. What if my skills hadn't been up to par?”

  She waved him off, flashing fingertips shining with pink nail polish. “Oh, please, I read your file. I knew you were more than capable...” her words trailed off, as if she thought she'd said too much.

  He entered her personal space, and she looked up at him. Suddenly her bravado was replaced by the look of a doe in the headlights of a car, a mixture of wonderment and fear. “So, you think I'm capable, do you?”

  She turned her back on him, advancing further into the area surrounded by chain link fencing that served as the weapons cage. “Don't let your head swell. Your body can barely support its weight as it is.”

  He followed her, not fooled in the least by her sassy little mouth. She was retreating, but he wasn't about to let her get away. “You know, I'm capable of many things outside of my telekinesis. Things you can't even imagine.” He leaned down, pushing aside her wild curls. His breath fell on her neck, and she trembled. Easing the crossbow from her hands, he placed it on a nearby shelf. “Let's put this away before you hurt someone.”

  “We are supposed to be doing weapons training,” she mumbled, still facing away from him.

  “I know, but I'm not hanging around if you pick up another weapon.”

  She smacked her lips. “We can't shirk our duties.”

  “I'm not suggesting we should. But there's something we need to address.” He was growing tired of talking to her back.

  “I don't know what you're talking about.”

  She was defiant to the end, a real pistol, and he realized he kind of liked it. He placed his hands on her supple shoulders and gently turned her to face him. Her gaze was on the floor, so he used a hand to lift her chin. The hazel eyes gazing up at him held such vulnerability, it was palpable.

  He couldn't help it. He leaned in.

  “John...” she began.

  He smothered her words with his lips against hers. They were soft, but firm. She held them shut for as long as she could, but as the kiss deepened, he could feel her surrendering to him. Her lithe arms circled his neck, and her mouth opened like a flower blooming to the sun. With a groan, he captured her waist in his embrace and pulled her nearer.

  He teased her with gentle pecks and tiny flicks of his tongue against her parted lips, and she responded with light kisses and probing strokes of her own. She felt like heaven in his arms, her soft curves pressed against his body like a lover. And that's just where he wanted her...

  His mind reeled as reality kicked in, and he ended the kiss, abruptly pulling his lips from hers. This woman was too much for him. Too much mouth, too much attitude, and way too much bossiness. “Tatiana, we need to stop.”

  She placed the back of a graceful tawny hands to her lips, wiped away the moisture there. “I tried to tell you that before you kissed me, Johnny Trench Coat.”

  “Now, don't start with the attitude and the stupid nicknames again.” What was her problem? So he'd had a moment of weakness. In the end he'd done the honorable thing and put an end to it.

  She gave an exasperated sigh and threw up her hands. “You just don't get it, do you? Typical male.” She spun around,
taking wide steps out of the cage. “I've had enough of you for one night.”

  He followed her into the main weapons facility, then stopped short. She looked “mad as fire” as his grandma used to say, and he didn't really want to get too close. After the strength she'd displayed earlier in the conference room, he figured a simple slap from her would shatter his jaw. “I haven't had nearly enough of you, though.”