by Michele Hauf
“But if the wound wasn’t sealed correctly, she could transform.”
“She’ll get a vamp saliva antidote. Works like a charm.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“It was developed by The Order of the Stake. New technology.”
“Cool. You are a valuable asset to our world, you know that?”
“What? Doing spin to cover the idiocy of stupid vampires?” Tor shrugged. “Anyone can do it.”
“But has anyone been doing it as long as you have? Does anyone have all the knowledge you have of the paranormal species that live in the mortal realm? Very few humans are in the know and aware that having such knowledge must be kept hush-hush. You’re special, Tor. I can’t believe you want to walk away from this.”
“I’m not special. I might even be the unfortunate one who had this knowledge dumped on me. Doesn’t matter. My mind is made up.”
“I think you should reconsider. What happens when you’re not around to reassure an obvious victim of a vampire bite that she was instead exposed to a dangerous virus?”
Tor chuckled again. “I bloody love that spin.” The sun was setting and he was hungry. “You want to stop for something to eat?”
“I’d like that. Can we call it a date?”
“I, uh...” He stepped on the brake at a stop sign.
A date was something he couldn’t manage while on the job. Should he have kissed her back at her place? Obviously it had given her ideas about what could conspire between the two of them. And much as he’d considered it...
“Can we just call it getting something to eat?”
“Oh sure.” Disappointment was evident in her voice. “I’m up for whatever.”
Tor drove on, but he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Mel seemed let down. She wasn’t bubbly anymore. He didn’t want her to take things the wrong way. And what was wrong with making her feel good and being nice to her? Kissing her didn’t mean he had to have sex with her. He’d been in the moment. Had reacted and...
Yet he wondered now what that might be like. Kissing her again. Taking it further. Just...letting whatever they wanted to happen happen.
She was beautiful. If weird. And smart. If kooky. And she needed his protection. If only for a few more days.
And then what?
If he stepped into the normal, he’d have to leave the world of the paranormal behind. And with that, Melissande Jones.
Chapter 12
At her suggestion to check out one of the more touristy places to eat in the 5th, they now walked side by side as they both nursed ice cream in cups. He had chosen vanilla. No surprise there. And she had picked her favorite, cherry and chocolate. Before that, they’d eaten a meal of roast chicken and carrots at a little outdoor restaurant.
Now they strolled past the famous Shakespeare and Company bookstore that she had worked in for all of three weeks. They stocked some esoteric books on the occult and magic, of which she would occasionally find a gem. Of course, while working, she’d tended to get lost in the books and ignore the customers. A person always thinks a bookstore would be a great place to work, but really, it’s the biggest candy shop in the world. And who wants to be interrupted by customers?
The evening was still young, though the streetlights had flickered to life, competing with the alluring shades of twilight and the flash of passing headlights. As they walked toward the river, the scents of roasted meats and vegetables gave way to a bitter perfume of tarmac and motor oil.
Tor stopped and leaned his elbows on the concrete balustrade. Below, the river was calm until an oncoming bateau mouche filled with tourists disturbed the water. He set his empty ice-cream cup on the balustrade and turned around, facing away from the river, rolled up his shirtsleeves and then propped his elbows behind him.
“I don’t get you and your family,” he said, his gaze strolling down her miniskirt and to the go-go boots. “I know there are some things that you don’t want to talk about. I’m cool with that. I have my own secrets.”
“Secrets are your thing.”
“That they are. I proudly wear the title of Secret Keeper. But help me explain how someone like you can exist in a family that practices dark magic. You’re the weird one?”
Mel shrugged. “That I am.” Half her ice cream remained, and she scooped for a big chunk of cherry.
“But your dad is all dark and demonic, and you did mention something about your sister practicing dark magic. And yet from what I’ve gleaned about you, you sway more toward the light and...”
“Unicorns and glitter?”
He chuckled. “Unicorns are vicious.”
“How do you know that? Have you ever—have you seriously seen a unicorn?”
His dimples popped into his cheeks as he bowed his head, but then looked up at her with a telling smirk. “Maybe.”
“No way! I would kill to see a unicorn. I mean, well, not kill an animal. Maybe a cabbage. Anyway, what was it like? Where in this realm did you see a unicorn?”
“I can’t say. It’s a trust thing.”
“Secrets.”
“Exactly. And it may or may not have been...free.”
“Oh no.” She caught a palm against her thundering heartbeats. “Was it captive? Please tell me it wasn’t in chains.”
“Can’t say. My clients’ secrets are my own.”
“Now I’m going to worry about that poor unicorn.”
“No one should ever worry about a unicorn. They’re tough. And they possess some incredible magic. It’s ineffable. But back to the light witch, who makes masterpieces out of fruit, collects an odd menagerie of pets and likes all things that sparkle.” He pointed to her eyes.
Mel’s glittery eye shadow had given her away. She turned and leaned against the balustrade next to him. Cars passed by slowly, their drivers taking in the sights. A double-decker bus with passengers on the top open level snapping pics parked across the street to let on new travelers. “Believe it or not, I’m actually the black sheep of the family. Isn’t that crazy? Of course, I don’t mind being the weird one.”
“You are weird.”
“Why, thank you. You’ve a touch of the weird about you yourself. What about you? Do you have family? How did you ever develop this relationship with our world of the weird and strange?”
“I...don’t have a family.”
“Tor, that’s so sad. But everyone has a family. Parents, at the very least. Did something terrible happen to them?”
He exhaled, winced, then said, “My mom died after giving birth to me. She was only seventeen. I wasn’t put up for adoption and ended up in a home for boys just south of London. Grew up there.”
“That means the people in the home were your family.”
“Not really. I never developed a close relationship with any of the boys. And the nuns and staff were—well, you’ve heard rumors, I’m sure. They were a tough bunch. Though Miss Thunder had her moments.”
“Miss Thunder?”
“She was the Science and Physical Education instructor. She was also the barracks chief and general hard-ass. But...every Sunday afternoon when the nuns were praying and singing and doing all that religious stuff, Miss Thunder would sit outside her window, listening to old Rat Pack tunes spinning on an ancient record player inside her room. Smoking a joint.”
“And how do you know that?”
Tor smirked. “She taught me how to inhale properly.”
“Wow. And that’s how you developed your love for the old songs?”
“Most definitely. I’d sit there for a couple hours with Thunder. She wouldn’t say much except that I was an odd boy. Very odd. Then she’d hand me the doobie and I’d take a toke and laugh. The nuns never found out. I always marveled at that. But then, they tended to walk a wide circle around me.”
“Because you were odd?” Me
l asked.
“Because I would point out the presence of...” Tor exhaled and shook his head. His thumb stroked the quartz hanging from a belt loop. He dismissed something she wanted to hear, Mel felt sure. “Anyway, I left when I was fourteen. Moved to Paris when I was twenty. Been doing fine ever since.”
“Have you always been interested in the paranormal?”
“I wouldn’t call it an interest, initially. More like it was always around me, so I simply didn’t know anything else. And... I don’t want to talk about this. It’s too...”
“Sorry. Secrets. We’ll change the subject.” Not what she wanted to do, but she respected his need for privacy about his personal life. “Did my dad give you the don’t-touch-my-daughter speech?”
Tor turned a half grin on her. “Basically.”
“Are you going to do as he asks?” She fluttered her lashes at him.
“Should I?”
She shook her head. “He’s all bluster. Trust me.”
“I’m not so sure of that. My throat still aches. You know your dad could take me out without even touching me.”
“He could. But he won’t. He would never do something that would upset his daughter.”
“What if his daughter had an issue with the guy?”
“Well then,” Mel said dramatically. Then she shook her head. “I would never ask such a thing of my dad.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t. That’s not you. You’re not a dark witch.”
“Just like you’re not a normal man. If you insist on seeking a job in the normal world, you’re trying to be something you’re not, Tor.”
“Just like you, eh? Miss Light Witch going for the dark?”
He had her there. And, like him clamming up about personal issues, she didn’t want to talk about it. Or she did, but she didn’t know how. Wasn’t sure he was ready to hear it all. She didn’t want to scare him off, having already dodged the necromancy concern he’d brought up earlier.
“I’m just trying to do my best,” she offered.
“I can relate. I’ve never been one to follow the rules or listen to what’s best for me. I live in the moment. And right now, the moment calls to me.” He held out his hand and she clasped it. “I think there’s something you should see. Come on.”
Curiosity giving her a giddy shiver, Mel walked alongside Tor. They strolled on, hand in hand.
“You got the heart?” he asked.
She patted the bag she’d slung over her shoulder. Good thing the heart wasn’t heavy. But it wasn’t light either. The guy could offer to carry it for her. Then again, she wanted to keep it close, and she wasn’t sure she trusted he could handle the magical energy attached to the thing.
“Know what’s ahead?” he asked, as he took her empty ice-cream cup and spoon and tossed them into a bin as they passed.
Mel didn’t—but then she heard the music. “Really? Is that the karaoke party?”
Tor spread out his palms before him in invitation, and a dimple popped into his cheek. “All work and no play...”
“Your name’s not Jack, and for that I’m glad.” She picked up her pace toward the stairway that descended to a wide cobblestoned patio that edged the river below. “This is so awesome!”
The riverfront was alive with people dancing to the sounds of a remarkable trio singing to a famous pop song. The party stretched along the cobblestones. Mel bounced on her heels.
“I just remembered this place,” Tor said. “And you did say you like karaoke.”
“I love it! Can we dance, too? This song is so catchy.”
“My lady.” Tor offered his hand and then led her into the fray. The twosome immediately picked up the beat and joined in the crowd as they sang the chorus to cheers and encouragement from the singers with the microphone.
Mel didn’t know any official dance steps, but she didn’t need to. Just to follow the music and let her body react is what her father had taught her when they’d go to the rooftop and blast some music in the summertime. Her sister had never been interested. And it was one of the rare times Mel had actually garnered her father’s undivided attention.
Tor spun her in a circle as her laughter spilled out. He had some moves. His hips and shoulders were loose, which was surprising for his muscular build. He was sinuous and graceful, with a touch of funky. What a treat to see him let loose like this!
Pumping her fists up and down, Mel guessed she was doing an approximation of the “mashed potato.” Hey, she was in the zone.
When Tor suddenly pulled her close to him, their eyes fixed on one another’s. Mel sighed. If he kissed her, that would make the night perfect. It didn’t matter that they were surrounded by so many others. She just wanted...
The song ended with a raucous cheer from the crowd. Someone tapped Tor on the shoulder. “Your turn, monsieur?”
“You’re on, Sultan of Swoon,” Mel said.
“I guess I am.” He kissed her quickly on the cheek, then took the microphone and stepped over to the karaoke machine to select a song. The time period plunged back to the mid-twentieth century, and a saxophone led Tor into a croon. The crowd took on the vibe, and a few swayed in pairs as Mel stepped to the edge of the dancers to watch her protector work his human magic.
She snapped her fingers and nodded to the beat as Tor performed a soft-shoe step and twirled and crooned to her.
Sinatra had nothing over Tor’s cool dimpled smile and ease of the moment. He was in his element. Confident and sure.
And Mel wondered if a woman could fall in love faster than taking a trip down the sidewalk. How silly was that? She wasn’t in love with the man. He’d only kissed her once. Twice, if she counted the cheek kiss just now. And she did. But she certainly had tripped into something weird and spectacular, and utterly enchanting.
At the end of the song, Tor leaped into the crowd and tagged another, who went on to select a slow tune that demanded couples pair up. Tor bowed to Mel and again offered his hand. She took it and he pulled her to him.
“You have an amazing voice,” she said.
“Thank you. It makes me happy to sing.”
“Memories of Miss Thunder?”
“You bet.”
“It makes me happy to watch you sing.”
“An intimate glimpse into the weirdness of me. I’m glad we came here. In the middle of this crazy, anxiety-ridden week, I needed this.”
He hugged her closer and turned her to sway on the cobblestones amongst the others. Tor moved with a sensual ease that enticed her to match him, to follow him, to fall into him. And she did, plunging into his scent and his hard chest and his direct way of guiding her deeper into that experience.
Was she a fool to tease the possibilities? They were so close, she never wanted to part from him. The singer’s words grew fainter as their connection pulsed in her ears and throat and heart. He had her; she had him. Together they alchemized an intriguing match. Mel didn’t want to lose a moment of this remarkable experience, dancing with a human who was protecting her from the denizens who would seek the heart in her bag...
The bag.
She’d set it down by a stone step when he’d taken her hand and led her into the dance. The next turn around, Mel searched the steps and—yes, there it sat. Her red tapestry bag with a dead witch’s heart inside, sealed within a plastic container and warded and cloaked to the nines. With the cloaking spell at work, no one should sense what was inside. She hoped. Her dark magic was anything but exacting or lasting. Please, let it improve, and quickly.
When the next song began, in yet another slow and sensual beat, Tor leaned in. “Another?”
“Yes, please.”
If they closed the place down dancing, Mel could not be happier. And experiencing Tor’s entire demeanor change from ultrastiff and always on, to the relaxed, smiling charmer who held her as if only the
y two existed was a dream.
This was natural magic at its most intoxicating. Gladly, she surrendered to the spell.
When the dancers clapped at the end of the song and the new singer launched into a rap beat, Tor tugged Mel toward the steps and they sat. He tilted his head onto her shoulder. “I like dancing with you. We seem to pick up each other’s intentions easily.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” And snuggling next to him was not something she would trade even for a whacked-out heart that could save her mother. He was just so...much. Manly and handsome, and charming. Sighing, she wrapped a hand about his arm and nestled closer.
“I forget about the real world while singing,” he said. “It’s been a while since I’ve had such a good time.”
That she could be the one to give him this experience set her heart to a pace even faster than it was already beating. Turning to face him, she asked, “You said you live for the moments. What does this moment beg of you?”
“Focus,” he answered. A pulse of his jaw muscle made her wonder if he’d slipped back into protector mode. But his smile discouraged that worry. “On you.”
Dimples rising in what she was beginning to note was an indication of his playful side, he leaned toward her and she met his kiss. Clutching her shoulder, Tor deepened the kiss and pulled her close. He invaded her with a delicious intent. The world slipped away. The only time passing was marked by the flutter of her heartbeats. He mastered her with his gentle hold and his seeking mouth.
Don’t let this end, she thought. And then it did as he bowed his forehead to hers and they gasped in one another’s joy.
“Will you sing another song?” she asked.
“If they’ll let me.”
Mel turned to grab her bag and—it wasn’t there. She dipped to peer around the side of the stairway, but there stood a garbage bin and no sign of the red tapestry bag. Had they sat on a different stairway? She glanced across the crowd of dancers and toward where the singer bounced to his funky rap. Another stone stairway was close to the bridge, but they hadn’t come down that one.
She gasped. “It’s gone.”
