Dead After Dark (34 page)

“You said a witch called to you.” Batuk stared off into the distance, calculating.

“Not exactly,” Ekkbar murmured.

“That proves
we
did not incur this problem. You told me the last time you dreamed of the outside world the Beladors now inhabit all continents. Vyan will find a clever way to provoke one into battle and draw out their leader. If he is successful, we will finally breathe air into our lungs again, breed children, prosper and live as a powerful civilization again.” Batuk lowered his glare to his manservant. “And if Vyan fails, I will tell Ravana how you tricked my soldier since he burdened me with you. The demon god would no doubt show his displeasure for the mistake of allowing you to live.”

Batuk leaned back, feeling a sense of calm he hadn’t enjoyed in centuries.

Once they were freed from this curse, Batuk owed his fealty to no one but his people. He would unleash terror on the new world like it had never seen before.

Trey parked his 1974 Bronco at the curb in front of Sasha’s house. His plan had holes—like relying on her cooperation—but it was the best he could come up with this quick. He climbed out and bounded up the porch steps to knock on her door.

The faint sound of approaching footsteps inside reached his ears just before the door yawned open. Sasha wore a faded T-shirt that looked suspiciously like one he used to own and a scowl. Her eyes were puffy with exhaustion and her hair tousled as if she hadn’t slept well.

But damn what a vision for first thing in the morning.

“I wake you up?” he asked, forcing himself back on task.

“No, I just haven’t showered. Why are you here?” she grumbled then ran her fingers through her hair.

“I want to hire you.”

“Hire me for what?” she snapped.

“To find someone.”

“I’m booked.” She tried to close the door, but Trey blocked it with his hand. “Can’t we talk for a minute?”

“Like I said, I’m booked, which means I’m too busy for a new case.” Her gaze broke from his, flitting around as if she
searched for a thought. “Got a ton of paperwork to do today.”

He doubted that was the reason. She probably needed to sleep during the day since her client had likely informed her that Ekkbar preferred to move at nighttime. Trey wanted her client’s name first . . . and head next.

“Come on, Sasha. I need some help.”

“No.” She smiled in an evil way that let him know she enjoyed the chance to use that word. He deserved the rejection, but guilt wouldn’t deter him from his plan. Trey stepped forward, his foot now also blocking the door’s path. When he leaned his head down, she bent her neck backward to face him. She smelled the way he always thought of her—soft and flowery with a touch of wildness that kept him on his toes.

“I just want to talk for a minute,” he pressed, hoping he hadn’t completely destroyed everything between them.

“Should have tried in the last nine years.”

Trey stifled a flinch, wishing on one of his trips home he could have repaired the damage his leaving had caused. What would he have said? “Sorry, Sasha, but I’ve committed my life to fighting unnatural beings.” Better to suffer in silence than to expose her to his world. Besides, he’d cut off his arm before he broke her heart a second time and he was leaving again.

“I’m asking as a friend for a few minutes,” Trey implored. He’d camp out on her porch if she still refused him after hearing his full proposal. He needed her help to keep her safe.

“Fine,” she huffed then took a step forward, forcing him to retreat. She closed the door and shuffled over to the swing that held too many visions of times past.

But he couldn’t be choosy right now.

Trey sat down on the worn oak slats. Like memory cells springing to life, his body reacted with Sasha so close, shifting his heartbeat into high gear. What he wouldn’t give to hold her in his arms and taste her lips just once more.

“So what can I possibly do that your secret hoo-doo agency can’t?” she wanted to know.

He’d anticipated that question. “I need to find an informant for a personal objective. Can’t involve my agency.”

“Why not use a better established PI firm? I’m just getting started in this business.” She toed the wood porch floor, giving the swing a little shove. The gentle movement fanned loose hairs across her face.

He fought the urge to reach over and brush them back. Instead, he answered, “I trust
you
.”

She stopped moving the swing. Her eyes narrowed.

Trey didn’t need telepathic powers to figure out she sure as hell didn’t trust him after he’d broken up with her.

Sasha shot up from the swing. “Trust is such an overrated commodity,” she said with the snippiness of a woman wronged. “Good luck finding your person.” She stormed to the door.

“Suit yourself, but I’ll pay well to find Ekkbar.”

Sasha paused, her hand on the doorknob. “
Who?
”

“A Hindu guy goes by the name Ekkbar. Supposed to be in Atlanta this week. Been told he has information I need.”

She swung around. “What information? Who told you?”

“Can’t tell you all of that,” he dodged, hoping to stoke the interest simmering in her whiskey-gold eyes.

“You and your secrets,” she muttered then glanced away, inhaling a deep breath. When she cut her eyes back at him, she was clearly in a dilemma. “How are we supposed to find him if you aren’t going to share information?”

We?
He had her. “I’ll share everything I can. He’s rumored to be around Piedmont Park this evening.”

“Really?” She clamped her lips shut as if realizing her enthusiasm was a mistake. “Why not go find him without me?”

“It will be easier to blend in and snoop around if we team up. A couple isn’t as quick to make as a single tail.”

She tapped a sexy royal purple fingernail against the door, thinking, then drew a deep breath. “Okay, but only for a week. If we don’t find him after that, I’m free from the contract.”

“Fair enough. I’ll pick you up at five.” Trey expected to locate Ekkbar and send him back beneath Mount Meru by tomorrow. In the meantime, his bogus PI contract would keep Sasha close enough to protect from the magician’s clutches.

The only other problem was keeping her out of Trey’s hands.

Ekkbar peered into a pool of water hidden beneath Mount Meru he’d located the first week he’d lived there. He waved his hand through the air, swirling the
nihar
. When the mist cleared, he chanted in his native Hindu language, words spoken only by past sorcerers.

He had to locate Batuk’s miserable soldier Vyan. The filthy dog had ruined Ekkbar’s plans, destroyed his chance to escape. Now everything hinged on the elite soldier’s success. But how could Vyan possibly defeat a Belador or even the pair of witches with his meager powers? Ekkbar had to devise some way to help the wretched interloper. But first, he had to find him.

Black water began moving, spinning the pool gently. Ekkbar extended his neck forward two feet until he could stare down into the whirling water.

An image formed of buildings and metal chariots Ekkbar had seen before when he gazed into the future. Vyan probably hid in fear. The soldier came into view, huddled inside a dark room, just as Ekkbar expected. Rays of sunlight striking Vyan’s face from the slats he peered through faded away as the sun plunged behind trees, shrouding the land in darkness.

Vyan stood. He wore strange clothes, no longer dressed
in a warrior’s mantle of tanned skins. Batuk had been right about Vyan’s craftiness. The soldier looked similar to others in the twenty-first millennium. Even his shoulder-length hair and two small braids alongside his face were of that era.

Vyan hooked his sword in place.

Ekkbar scowled at the warrior’s stupidity as Vyan covered the sword with a long coat.

“The fool is wasting his time if he thinks a sword will kill a Belador.” Ekkbar extended an arm out from his body to his head, rubbing the slick surface in worry. He was doomed if the warrior’s best plan depended on a blade.

When Vyan reached inside his pocket and withdrew a multicolored stone, Ekkbar gasped, cursing the thieving warrior, then leaned forward to confirm he was correct.

Batuk’s elite soldier held the weapon that could ensure success,
if
Vyan did not destroy the world by carelessly wielding the Ngak stone’s magic.

Trey parked his Bronco along the curb on Tenth Street then circled the truck. The short leather skirt Sasha had on would never allow her to make that step down with modesty.

She opened her door. “How can you be sure Ekkbar is here?”

Trey caught her around the waist and lowered her slowly between him and the truck. His gaze dove to the plunging neckline of her violet and black lace top that showcased a cleavage he’d like to dip his tongue into.

Wonder if she still liked having her nipples . . .

“Trey, did you hear me?”

Barely. Blood roared through his ears from the image his last thought had conjured.

“My resource is pretty dependable,” he answered, closing the door and taking her hand. Both of his intel hits came early this morning from nightstalkers—vagrants who had died during natural disasters such as violent storms or deep
freezes, then lived as tortured souls in the half-world between life and death. Nothing new entered a territory without their notice, but all they could do was inform.

Unfortunately, nightstalkers held no allegiance to either side of life and possessed no moral code. They relayed information in exchange for a handshake with a supernatural being. The longer the handshake, the longer they could remain as a solid body—much desired over a vaporous form since they could down a bottle of wine as a lifelike ghoul.

“You know what this guy looks like?”

Glad for the change of subject, Trey nodded. “Yes. Short guy, about five feet tall, frail-looking, bald with a big hook nose, and . . . odd eyes.”

“What are you going to do when you find him?”

Trey would love to know why
she
wanted to find Ekkbar.

“I just want to ask him a few questions.” Unless the cursed Hindu got near Sasha, at which time Trey would dispense the bastard into a million pieces. “We’ve got to behave naturally and not look like undercover agents,” he pointed out as they reached a stadium on his right where he’d played a few football games. He stepped into Piedmont Park, guiding them to the concrete route that wound throughout the park he and Sasha used to jog along.

His conscious questioned the real motive for bringing Sasha here.

Okay, so he wanted to spend a little time with her tonight. Where was the harm in talking? He’d missed that as much as everything else about her.

“I wish it was summer,” Sasha mused, drawing Trey from his thoughts.

He smiled as they reached the bridge where she always admired thick clusters of yellow flowers during the summer. A middle-aged man in a newsboy cap yanked his beagle’s leash to keep the dog out of a bed of pansies. Trey kept an
eye on their surroundings, though few people were out this close to midnight.

“Haven’t been here in a while,” she murmured after they crossed the bridge and neared the stone and brick overpass decorated with ceramic tiles and halfhearted graffiti attempts. Had he unconsciously routed them to where he stole his first kiss from Sasha?

Maybe.

Probably. But that didn’t give him license to do so again.

So stop thinking about how hot she looks in leather and lace
. He grabbed at a new topic. “How’s your family?”

“Same dysfunctional group you knew, except now I don’t have to deal with them on a daily basis. Rowan lives with me.”

“I’ll have to say hello when I take you home.”

Sasha caught herself before shouting
no
at Trey. She could just imagine Rowan flying at his throat, trying to kill him. “She’s a little under the weather right now.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

Her eyes inadvertently shifted to his mouth. The same mouth that could be hard one minute and soft the next. Trey was making her nuts. How could he be so indifferent to her after she’d pulled out all the stops to dress for him? Couldn’t he pay a little attention and flirt? Her ego could use the boost. He was all business. She would be too if she could stop thinking about how she had only one night with Trey and wanted to enjoy some of it. Was that too much to ask?

One night because of Ekkbar. That slimy worm must have seen her with Trey last night and was playing with her. He was better socialized than she’d expected.

Trey stopped near the crossing beneath the old Park Drive Bridge overpass. The same spot where they’d shared a first kiss. Every intelligent brain cell she had said to turn around and walk away, far away from Trey.

But all the nerves in her body were doing a great job of
convincing her she could weather a kiss without losing her heart again. She was an adult this time, one who should be capable of convincing a man to kiss her—or more—then go on with her life.

She wouldn’t mind a rousing night of “or more,” but the chances of that were probably as good as convincing him to stay after the end of this week. Trey seemed to be reconnoitering the area, not paying her any attention. She could fix that.

Sasha stretched her arms above her head and took a deep, deep breath, turning so her top shimmered in the ambient light. She wiggled her leather-sheathed bottom.

Trey’s eyes whipped to hers. His gaze rippled with heat as it trailed every curve below her neck.

So he
wasn’t
as indifferent as he acted. Good start. When he sliced a suspicious glance back at her face, she offered her innocent expression and grimaced as if the move caused pain.

“Are you okay?” His brows cinched together.

“I’ve got a kink, down low,” she said, then drew another breath and exhaled, twisting to arch her back. “Could you . . . rub it?”

His Adam’s apple floated up and down with a swallow. “Rub
what
?”

Sasha should feel guilty and not encouraged. “My back. I sit at the computer too long every day.” She turned around.