Romancing the Paranormal

by Stephanie Rowe

“Just so you know, Mr. Immortal, I don’t give a rat’s ass what you want or don’t want. I am not here for you. I am not here to help you get back your Tara. I am here for one reason. I am going to kill Banks and his rabid pack.”

  “Are ye now? I can only wonder—why?” he said. “But for now … Dublin.”

  Once again we stepped from one place into another. All the while I had to ask myself why Banks had asked her to put Dublin under a blackout.

  We stepped out, and I realized from the crowds and few scattered torches flaming along the street that we were right back where we were before, in Temple Bar. People had gathered and were speaking in loud and nervous cadence about the blackout.

  It was a mess. It was darkness that came from a magic spell and had a property all its own, a scent of decay and impending doom. It was seriously freaking out the crowds, but worse than that I heard car horns blasting in unison, as though Dublin traffic had also been brought to a standstill.

  “Why?” I asked him. “Why would Banks—”

  “Isn’t it obvious, love?” He cut me off impatiently. “A diversion. Whatever he wanted to do, he needed a diversion.” He raised his eyes heavenward and whispered in Gaelic. His whisper turned into a low-throttled chant.

  Damn, but I could feel the power pulse right off him.

  All at once, the lights were on, and Mr. Cocky gave me a smirk.

  Street lamps once again burned brightly, as did lights from pubs and restaurants.

  People laughed with relief and began calling out remarks and jests to one another as they went about their business of enjoying ‘all the craic’ Temple Bar establishments had to offer. I heard people talking about how efficient the power company had been to restore power so quickly.

  “Can you track them? Can we try and figure out what they were up to and if we interrupted whatever they were doing?” I didn’t know what it was, but our eyes locked, and a shiver went through me.

  “No need, lass. We did interrupt them. Tara and I share a link that cannot be broken. Whatever it was they tried to achieve was cut short, but they will try again if we don’t find and stop them.”

  What I got out of that was he shared a link with this Tara. I felt green shred my better self. What I couldn’t understand was how she could have fallen for Banks when she had this hunk of an immortal.

  He still had my hand in his and said as though he were a general issuing orders, “We can’t do any more this evening, and as I have a great many questions for you, I think we will call it a night.”

  “You think so? Well, I will call it a night when I want to call it a night,” I snapped, still irritated by the ‘link’ he shared with Tara. I told myself I wasn’t being rational; it didn’t help.

  “Is that so, lass?” he answered and pulled me in close, bent his head to mine, and whispered in my ear, “Then make up yer mind to it, for it is what it is.”

  Control freak. “I don’t take orders from you or anyone else.” I tried stepping back from him.

  It was time for me to use a little of my own magic and escape. I am contrary and independent to a fault. I couldn’t shift like the immortal, but I had incredible speed, so I broke loose—

  He had his arm around my waist and pulled me in right up to his exquisitely hard body, and his lips this time were on mine, parting them and whispering, “Don’t ye now. So then, ye don’t take orders from me, or anyone else, eh?” His tongue grazed my bottom lip, and his voice buried itself in my mouth. “Ye will take them from me, but yer right, from no one else. Taking orders from me will keep ye alive.”

  I didn’t want him to let go. I was caught up in the sensation of his tongue over mine as he whispered. I had to get control, so I yanked away and snorted as I put my fists on my hips.

  He threw back his head and laughed.

  I scrunched an angry face at him and said, “You have no idea who I am or what I can do. And my staying alive is on me, not you.”

  “So ye think, which makes ye cocky, not smart,” he said on a low growl.

  “Cocky? Look who is calling the damn kettle black.”

  “Think on it, lass. Och aye, I know ye are something special … something new. I know ye think ye can take Banks on for whatever reasons ye have, and I know ye aren’t ready.”

  “Which tells me you know nothing!”

  “I watched ye question yer fellow vamps without ye knowing. I followed ye to yer hotel without ye knowing,” he snapped at me.

  “You are an immortal … maybe a Fae even, not sure yet, and as such, you can walk about invisible, but now that I have your scent, well, Kian O’Hara, if that is your real name, you won’t be able to do that again.”

  He eyed me speculatively. “Aye then, more cocky than smart. What of Tara … do ye have her scent?” He shook his head. “Would ye know if she chose to follow ye?” He got thoughtful and asked, “I know why I am out to stop Banks … but what is it ye want with him and why?”

  “What I want is my own brand of justice,” I raged, the accumulation of the day peaking and exploding out of its package. “I want to rip out his heart and make him watch as I crush it. I want to tear him into shreds of guts and gore and then turn around and do the same to his vicious pack. Does that answer you?”

  “Och aye, it isn’t justice ye are after, is it, lass? ’Tis revenge.”

  “Do you think I am going to play semantics with you? Revenge is justice,” I snapped.

  All at once he shifted us again, but this time we ended up at a small corner table inside one of the lively pubs.

  “Sit,” he told me.

  I made a face at him, but I sat. He put up his fingers to the waitress and ordered two Guinness, which wasn’t an easy thing to do—the music was live, and it was loud.

  He leaned into me and said in my ear, “We are getting one thing straight, Harlow. Ye are coming home with me tonight. Straight home. I’ll not be letting ye go back to yer hotel. I already wiped all record of ye from their computer. Not very wise using yer own name, ye know.”

  He got me with that. I had thought I was safe enough, as Banks had no idea I was even alive, let alone in Dublin, and I’d used my credit cards. Oh, dumb, dumb—no wonder he thought I was an idiot. Mr. Immortal was right. I had left a trail.

  “Thank you,” I said. “But—”

  “Ye could use some help. I could use some help. Ye’ll be safe with me, and m’home is a comfortable one Banks cannot penetrate.”

  “What about Tara?”

  “She wouldn’t, not even for him.”

  Our drinks arrived, and he clinked his glass with mine and said, “So, lass, what do ye say?”

  I saw that he knew what my answer would be. I knew I would be better off with an immortal as backup. He seemed to want Banks dead as much as I did. I gave him a considering look as I vied for leverage. “I come and go as I like?”

  “That depends,” he said.

  “Then no thanks. I know how to make humans see what I want them to see. The next hotel I check into I’ll use a different name, and my magic will take care of the paperwork,” I told him.

  He eyed me speculatively. “Aye then, ye can come and go at will, but I would like to be kept informed.”

  “Why?”

  “So I can save yer ass when it gets into trouble, and it will.” He grinned. “An ass like yers is meant for trouble.”

  I eyed him, hoping to deliver a clear warning. He laughed and put up his hands. “No offense.”

  “None taken,” I answered.

  “Right, so we are agreed?”

  “For the moment,” I told him.

  Chapter Four

  FOR FIFTEEN MINUTES my immortal had been firing questions at me. My immortal? Where had that come from?

  I put up a hand to stop him. “You ask too many questions.” I could see he was getting frustrated with my noncommittal responses. I grinned at him, and he eyed me suspiciously.

  “You are a tough little customer, Harlow,” he answered with a furrowed brow.

&n
bsp; I ate a French fry lathered in ketchup and dunked another one. “Hmm.”

  He eyed me, or rather my mouth, as I sucked the ketchup off the fry and then downed it. He said softly, “Ye have trust issues.”

  “Do I?” I shrugged. “No issues. Just don’t trust anyone.” I ate another fry.

  “Tell me this then—ye seem to think Banks doesn’t know ye are tracking him. Why is that? If ye hate him, ye must have reason. If ye have reason, why wouldn’t he think ye, being who ye are, would come for him?”

  “Because,” I said, leaning into him, “Banks thinks I’m dead.” I saw surprise flit across his face. “Ah, you weren’t expecting that answer.”

  “Why does he think ye are dead?”

  “Because he killed me,” I answered.

  Again, surprise lit those blazing blues of his. He frowned. “Never say ye are a newbie vamp-hybrid?” He shook his head and waved this off. “I’m not understanding this.”

  “Newbie? Are you kidding?” I pulled a face at him. “You know better, but that is all you need to know for now. Maybe, when I know more about you, I’ll tell you more about me. Maybe,” I answered. “Now, I’d like to shower and sack out, so if we are going to your place, let’s just stop by my hotel and—”

  “Get your things? I already managed that.” He grinned. “Flick of the wrist earlier, and they await you in your suite at my home,” he said and stood up, slapping down a great big wad of money to cover our bill and a hefty tip for our waitress. When he put out his hand for mine, I hesitated, but he moved in fast and had my fingers before I even knew what he was doing.

  There it was, those shivers he always managed to spread through my body. His touch sent an explosion of light into my brain, rendering it useless. I was on fire, and a lusty sensation sped through my blood. What the hell?

  He led me into the crowd before he shifted us. I figured he rightly supposed no one would notice our vanishing act amongst so many milling strangers.

  He had his moves down pat. I told myself to remember that and that he was an ancient immortal; I should never underestimate him.

  We stepped out of the shift into a dimly lit library, and with a flick of his talented wrist a fire burned in the large hearth.

  The room was huge, and one wall was filled with every kind of leather-bound book you could imagine. The shelves were organized in neat rows, and for a moment I was seriously impressed. “Wow, I love books,” I told him idiotically.

  “Do ye? Well, now, as a matter of fact, I do as well,” he answered, stepping away from me and heading for a sideboard table set up as a bar. He poured himself some brandy and turned to hold the bottle up for me. I was filled with questions. Was this his home? How long had he lived here? What was he? I kept quiet for the moment and nodded for the brandy.

  He tipped his snifter, did the cheers thing with his eyebrows, and sipped. I followed suit and asked the question that had been troubling me the most. “Why haven’t you just killed Banks? I mean, he’s a hybrid with nowhere near the magic or the skills I’m guessing you possess. You could have shifted in and taken him down whenever you wanted.”

  “Two things—one, our code of non-interference uppermost. We don’t interfere with humans,” he said and frowned as though he thought he had said too much.

  “He isn’t a human,” I answered, frowning back at him.

  “No, but he is from this realm, so we don’t … besides, killing him wouldn’t solve m’problem. Which brings me to the second reason. I need to make Tara see him first for who and what he is. Right now, he has her protection—her shield. Even if I wanted to murder him—and as of now, I don’t—he wouldn’t easily be had with Tara standing guard.”

  “And she is an immortal—maybe a Fae even … like you?”

  He looked away from me and said, “She is an immortal and, of course, like me.” He turned back to me then and winked. He considered me a moment and said, “So tell me, lass. How do ye know as much as ye do? How did ye know m’name?”

  “To answer that, I would have to tell you more about myself, and I am not ready to do that.” I drank the rest of the brandy and said, “If you point me in the right direction, I’ll head on—”

  He interrupted me and said, “I’ll do one better. I’ll take ye there.”

  He walked over to the library door and held it open for me. I put my empty glass down on a wall table and followed him to the wide staircase that fanned at the bottom and top of the stairs. We went up, and he pointed me down the hall and said, “I put you with me in the east wing. My suite is there … just down the hall. If ye need anything, ye’ll find me there.” He pointed, and I felt a rush of excitement. His eyes said he was going to kiss me. Would he—would he try? Did I want him to?

  The words were out before I could stop them. “And what … Mr. Immortal, could I possibly want you for?”

  He sucked in air, and then I got my answer. I was in his arms, up against his deliciously oh so sculptured body, and his lips were parting mine. Magical electricity charged through me as his mouth touched mine, and when his tongue slipped inside, and stroked mine? Oh, it was like tasting an irresistible vanilla smoothie, one you knew would ruin your diet.

  I couldn’t stop drinking, tasting, taking, giving, and he took as much as he gave. His hands caressed my back as he pressed his erection against my belly. Oh hot damn, I could feel the size of him through his clothes, through my clothes—and then suddenly all I felt was cold air.

  He set me back and said, “Och aye, lass … ye tease like that again, and I’ll nae be able to stop with a kiss.”

  “I … I didn’t know I was teasing,” I lied. Well, maybe it wasn’t a tease. Maybe I had given him an outright invitation, maybe?

  “Didn’t ye now? Well, then, ye are forewarned, for it won’t take much more than that.” He smiled, touched my chin with his finger, and said, “Do ye know yer amber eyes light up green and ye glow from time to time?”

  “Glow? You can see me glow?”

  “Aye, ye do it now and then when ye are angry or … excited,” he said in a low voice, so low I only just heard the words.

  I felt heat rush through my body. I was in trouble. I had to make light of this and said, “Nightie night, Immortal.”

  “Nightie night then, lass, and ye know, for now ye can call me Kian. One day when I know ye better, I’ll tell ye m’own true name,” he answered softly and turned.

  I watched him walk down the hall. He didn’t look back. His own true name?

  I opened my door and rushed inside. For a long minute I stood pressed up against the door, leaning against it for support. What had happened? I had never felt like this before.

  I had a sudden urge to open that damn door and rush him, take him down, strip off his clothes, and …

  Instead, I hurried to the bathroom and started the shower, thinking I needed a cold one. Did I take it cold? Nah. You see, I like it hot.

  * * *

  Showered, I stared at my red hair, brushed and shiny and so much like my mom’s. It wasn’t her face staring back at me, though. I had changed. I didn’t think her capable of the hatred that I felt for Carsen Banks. She was always so forgiving. Not I.

  The shower like the bathroom was enormous and luxurious. Mr. Kian Immortal was obviously not hurting for money.

  Sighing, I gave its length one last brushing and slipped on a long white T-shirt.

  I was ready for bed but wide awake.

  My immortal’s kiss had awakened something savage inside me. I had wanted to grab him, throw him down on the floor—right there in the hall—and climb all over him. I wanted to ride him hard and fast and release the fever inside my aching, needy body. What the hell was wrong with me?

  I stared at the low fire burning in the corner hearth and put my arms around myself as I waited for the heat to permeate and relax my muscles.

  Had I invited his kiss? Oh yeah. I know myself, and I don’t shirk from the truth.

  I looked around at the suite he had given me. It s
ported antiques, and paintings of fox-hunting scenes hung on the walls of stone. The room had a ‘woman’s touch’, and I wondered if his ‘Tara’ had been his decorator. If so, she had good taste, and that made me frown.

  She had no doubt lived here with him, and why that should send rivers of jealousy through me, I didn’t know. How could she have fallen for Banks? Of course, she didn’t know what Banks was … what he had done. Tanya had said that he had a reputation as a charmer. I couldn’t see that. All I could see was him ripping my father’s head off his shoulders and tearing my mother’s heart out of her chest. That same hard determination flooded through me.

  It made me edgy.

  I got up and went to the eight-foot glass French doors. They opened onto a stone balcony overlooking an expanse of manicured and landscaped lawns that, even in the twilight, my vamp eyes saw quite well.

  I turned back to my room and noticed an ante room to the left of the walk-in closet. I went to it and found a treadmill and some weights. I smiled as I told them out loud, “Later.”

  The furniture was beautiful, ivory antiqued with hand-painted flowers. I moved over to an ornate but exquisite armoire and opened it.

  Oh, thank goodness. A flat-screen TV. Yes, oh yes, some TV to lose myself in.

  I angled the screen toward the bed, took up the remote, climbed into my huge bed, and flicked it on to find one of my favorite programs.

  The next thing I knew, I heard knocking from far off. I blinked and saw static on the TV while the knocking, bang, bang, bang, wouldn’t stop.

  What the hell?

  I opened my eyes wide, and because I hadn’t drawn the drapes I saw that the night had turned into day. Not quite sunny but daylight, and I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. It was seven a.m. Only seven.

  Bang, bang, bang at my bedroom door.

  “Go away,” I said, assuming it was Mr. Immortal.

  “Och aye, lass, then is it ye don’t drink coffee?” he said and opened the door, and I blinked to see him standing there, larger than life, pulsating with sexuality and power.

  But more than that, he had coffee and, oh, pastries!