Stay the Night (10 page)

“Okay, then you should remember my name, because I introduced myself to you when you reported for your shift.” The black woman watched her squirm for a minute. “It's Alice.”

“Alice. Right.” Jane pouted.

“Boxing lunches is the easiest shift at this shelter, Ms. Moran,” Alice continued. “What are you going to do next weekend when I put you on the dinner shift, and you have to serve hot food to these folks? You going to throw it at them?”

“No. I'll do whatever I have to.” Furious, Jane yanked off her gloves. “Can I go home now?”

“How are you getting there?”

“I'm taking the bus,” Jane said through her teeth. “My mom took away my car for, like, forever.”

Alice nodded as if that sounded sensible to her. “If you'll wait a minute, I'll walk you to the bus stop.”

“It's only a hundred feet from the front door,” Jane snapped. “I think I can make it.”

Outside the sun was setting and the people she'd handed boxes to all afternoon were forming a new line for the dinner shift. Jane ignored them and stalked over to the bus stop. Three old black women and their bulging shopping bags occupied the bench, so Jane couldn't even sit down.

“That's the new girl at the church,” one of them said, pointing to Jane. “I bet she on parole.”

The other old ladies stared at her, and one asked, “What you get arrested for, girl? Smoking crack?”

The three began cackling like happy hens.

Jane turned in a huff and walked away from the bench to stand in the shadows by the church sanctuary. She refused the sandwich that Alice or whatever her name was had offered—as if she'd ever eat anything made for homeless people—and now her stomach growled miserably. She knew she'd binge on cookie-dough ice cream as soon as she got home, and she'd never learned the trick of making herself throw up.

She was never going to get into size threes by summer.

“I hate this.” She wrapped her arms around her sunken waist. “It's so unfair.”

“So it is,” someone whispered behind her.

Jane smelled candy, and her mouth watered as she turned around. It was the cute guy. He must have been waiting out here for her all afternoon.

“Hi.” Seeing him made her feel a little dizzy, but the emptiness in her stomach and chest faded, replaced by something warm and wonderful. “I thought you took off for the night.”

He held out a black glove.

Jane smiled as the warmth spread out, liquid sunshine through her arms, hips, and legs. He'd waited for her. He wouldn't have done that if he thought she was complete trash like the rest of these people. He wanted to be around her. Maybe he even liked her.

She put her hand in his.

He pulled her into the little space behind the wide square column, where everything smelled like candy.

 

Sunset painted the city's skyline with wide ombré bands of gold, orange, and red before giving way to the deep blue fringe of the night. As Robin of Locksley came awake, he felt the last of the day's light fading as silently and completely as the woman beside him slept.

The day is gone, and I am not alone
.

He didn't reach for her at first, somewhat astonished to know he had slept so long, but brought his hands to his face so he could breathe in her scent. She was, as she had been last night, all over him. She hadn't used perfume, as so many human females did, and he was grateful; her body's natural fragrance delighted him. He couldn't put a name to it, but had the tang of eastern spices and a rich sweetness like that of dark molasses.

As he breathed in, Robin remembered how boldly she had pushed him back on the bed and saddled herself over him.

Only you. I keep my other women in the harem on the third floor
.

Rob had never brought a female, human or Kyn, to the penthouse, but Chris was different. Her presence in his city home seemed to fill a void he had never before noticed, and yet someplace inside he had always felt.

Unable to spend another moment without touching her, he rolled onto his side and extended a hand, feeling for the delicious warmth of her mortal body. Which wasn't there, a fact that startled him into opening his eyes. The pillow next to his still bore the impression of her head, but no one lay beneath the rumpled silk sheets.

The devil?
Robin lifted his head to gaze around, but saw no sign of her. “Chris?”

No one answered, but he heard the sound of water running in the sink of the adjoining bathroom, and relaxed. She'd be thirsty, of course, and doubtless hungry as well. He would have food brought, a gourmet dinner, fine wines, strawberries, chocolates. He couldn't share her food, but he could feed her and watch her and kiss the taste of champagne from her lips. He'd tease her into feasting from his own skin. He had a fierce curiosity to discover whether she would be as playful as she was passionate.

Smiling, Robin rolled out of bed, pulled on his trousers, and went to see if he could coax her into the bath with him. Inside the bathroom, however, he found only his seneschal at the sink rinsing two wineglasses.

“Will?” He glanced at the empty shower and tub. “Where is Chris?”

“Do you mean the human female from last night? I cannot say, my lord.” Will turned off the taps and dried his hands. “I assume that she returned to her home after she departed.”

“She left?” Robin distinctly remembered her falling asleep sprawled over his chest. Her slight weight and radiant warmth had been so soothing he had dropped off a few moments after her. “When? How?”

“ 'Twas near dawn; I secured the elevator after she used it. I saw no car, so I presume she went on foot. I sorted through the mail, and it seems you were summoned for jury duty again. We can hide from mankind for near a millennium, but try as I may I cannot seem to purge your name from the county courthouse mailing list.” Will faced Robin and frowned. “What is wrong? Did something happen with the female?”

“Yes. No.” Robin strode back into his bedchamber and inspected the carpet. No lingerie, no shoes, not a single trace of her. She'd taken everything. He moved on to the front rooms, where she had left her outer garments and purse, which had also vanished.

Robin slowly returned to his bedchamber, unsettled and bewildered. “She is gone.”

Will set the glasses aside. “Rob? Why do you look that way? Did she take something?”

Aye, she had taken something. His dignity. Chris had left without waking him, without bidding him farewell, without so much as a by-your-leave. She had walked out as if last night had meant nothing to her.

No mortal had ever done such a thing to Robin.

Perhaps she had been frightened by the many intimacies that they'd shared. Yes, that would make more sense. She had seemed so cautious, so controlled—at least, before she had led him into his bedchamber. There she had become warm and loving and seemingly wholly at ease in his arms.

Robin glanced at the display of longbows he had mounted opposite his bed, interspersed with some of the arrows he had made over the centuries. The weapons represented many memories for him, all he had left of Sherwood, really. To a modern mortal like Chris, they may have seemed more intimidating.

Had she seen them upon waking? Had they caused her to flee?

“How did she appear to you when she left?” he asked his seneschal. “Was she disoriented? Did she seem upset?”

“I watched her through the security monitors only long enough to assure that she left the building,” Will said, “but she seemed well.”

“How well?”

Will made a vague gesture. “She was tidily dressed and moved with purpose. She did not weep or drag her steps. She did not take anything, and she did not look back.” He cocked his head. “Did you not send her down?”

“No.” Robin saw something glitter, and went to the bed. From the sheets he retrieved a short, plain gold chain. He had unfastened it from her ankle, he recalled, just before taking off her stockings. He wound the delicate thing through his fingers. “I never bade her to go.”

“You . . .” Will's pale eyes rounded. “I do not understand, my lord. You never allow humans to stay the night.”

“This one I did. Or should have.” Robin touched the creased silk sheets on his bed. They felt as cold to his touch as his heart. “I slept with her, and she left me.”

“I'm sure it was for the best. Had she remained, and awoken before you—”

“You do not understand me,” Robin said. “I
fell asleep
with her. With her in my arms. I slept with that woman and did not wake, did not dream. I slept as I have not since my human lifetime.” He closed his hand over the ankle chain. “How could she go like that?”

“You must have compelled her to leave before dawn,” Will said. “She would not have departed herself, not while bespelled.”

Robin thought of how she been with him. She had been eager and willing, and had startled him more than once with her boldness, but she had not behaved as if she were spellbound. “I begin to doubt that she was ever under my power.”

“Could she be a Brethren operative?” Will sounded grim now. “We have known them to be resistant to
l'attrait
. 'Tis said they are bred that way.”

Had Chris behaved differently, Robin might have shared his seneschal's suspicions. “Why would one of those zealots seduce me, much less leave me alone and sleeping in my bed, when she could kill me or have me taken?”

Will's expression turned wry. “True.”

Robin saw something wedged beneath the base the lamp beside the bed, and retrieved it. The small square of paper smelled of her, and he unfolded it slowly.

 

 

Dark, tight resentment welled up inside him. “She wrote a note.”

Will began straightening the bed linens. “You would be wise not to contact her again, my lord. A mortal who cannot be compelled is unpredictable, even dangerous.”

“She does not offer me her phone number or contact information,” Robin told him. “She thanks me.”

Will cleared his throat to cover another sound. “That was very, ah, polite of her.”

“Am I
no
one to her, then? Someone she must thank in writing? For what? A mistake she never intends to repeat?” Robin threw the note to the floor. “She used me. A mortal. A mortal used
me
.”

“The stone-hearted bitch.” Will fluffed the pillows. “Shall I track her back to her lair and offer her a sternly worded rebuke, my lord?”

Robin hardly heard him. “She did not purchase anything at the auction last night, but she did register as a bidder. She would have had to show her identification and give them a credit card. You will go to the auctioneer's office and obtain whatever information they have for her. I particularly want her full name and where she resides.” He remembered something she had said at the club. “She told me that she recently transferred here from Chicago. One you have her full name, call Jaus and ask him to run a background check on her.”

“Rob.” His seneschal came to stand before him. “It was ill-mannered of this mortal to leave in such haste, but her actions are hardly worth so much trouble. Forget this.”

“No. I was not finished with her.” He went to his closet and jerked out fresh garments, tearing the sleeve from a shirt in the process. He tossed it aside and took out another.

“You know that women of this time are not like Kyn females,” Will suggested carefully. “They have much freedom and independence, and they do as they wish. They do not respect men as we expect they should, but that is how things are in this society—”

“When have you known me to sleep the day through, from dawn to dusk?” Robin demanded. “With a mortal in my bed?”

“Never,” Will admitted.

“Just so.” He thrust his arms into the sleeves of the second shirt. “She did something to me, this female. I shall learn exactly what it was.”

“She could not drug you or exhaust you,” his seneschal said as he picked up the torn shirt from the floor. “Could it be that she made you happy?”

Robin turned on him. “Do I look happy to you now?”

“Not in least, my lord. Forgive me for suggesting otherwise.” Will's radio buzzed, and he pressed the response button and spoke into it. “What is it, Sylas?”

“An Italian lady has arrived to call on our lord,” the guard said. “She gives her name as Contessa Salvatora Borgiana.”

Robin nodded.

“Escort her to the reception room,” Will replied. “Our lord will meet with her shortly.” He switched off the radio. “Were you expecting the contessa to call?”

“I did not know she was in America.”

The last thing Robin felt like doing was receiving a suzerain's widow, but Kyn customs gave him no choice. The contessa was obliged to pay her respects upon entering his territory, and it was his duty to welcome her—and find out what she was about.

Then he would deal with Chris.

His seneschal looked thoughtful. “She may have been driven out of Italy by the Brethren. So many have, these last months. Shall I prepare rooms for her and her men?”

“Sylas and Bergen can attend to her needs,” Robin said as he buttoned his cuffs. “You have work to do. Go. I want to know everything you can learn about this mortal before dawn.”

Chapter 5

O
n the outskirts of London, Michael Cyprien escorted his
sygkenis
, Alexandra Keller, from their limousine to the couple waiting for them on the front marble steps of the baroque mansion. He knew from her closed expression that she was feeling apprehensive, and kept her hand in his.that