The Mark (Interracial Paranormal Romance) (Toil and Trouble) (11 page)

"Normal," we said in unison.

I softened, sliding closer to him. "I just-"

"Let me finish," he cut in gently. "When I'm with you, sometimes I forget that I am what I am. I'm just a man...who cares deeply for his woman." He glanced away for a moment, not wanting to show his vulnerability. "But your eyes that night, knowing you saw me as some spawn of Hell…it was a lot to swallow."

I reached up and grazed his cheek. "It doesn't have to be so black and white."

"But it is," he pressed. "I’m a monster. I have to do as monsters do to survive. I just don't want-"

I brought my fingers to his lips silencing him. I slid closer to him, pressing my body against his. He responded to me instantly, tilting my chin upwards and taking my lips into his. Our kisses were soft, probing at first that became hungry and ravenous as he attempted to scoop me up and take me to the bedroom.

"No," I protested, planting my feet firmly. "I want you here. Now."

His lips met mine again as he moaned with desire, tearing off his clothes. I let out a hungry cry as he ripped off my tank and cotton skirt. He paused, drinking me in.

"You're so beautiful," he sighed, bringing me down to the floor. “So beautiful.”

I throbbed with wanting as he pulled me close, and we moved together as one. Every thrust pushed me closer...there was nothing but this moment. There was nothing but this.

I slithered from beneath then mounted him, quivering as he entered me again and I rocked back and forth.

I howled with pleasure, all abandon tossed to the wind. I didn't care if this whole building heard my moans. I didn't care if the whole building burned to the ground.

I brought my face to his and took his mouth in mine, teasing him with my tongue. I kept grinding, wave after wave of satisfaction coursing through me. "Yes. YES!"

He let out a growl, his strong hands gripping my hips. His fingers were firm at first then went to uncomfortable to digging into my flesh.

"Ow!" I cried out, covering my hand with his. "Not so hard.” His touch went deeper, until I was sure he would draw blood. “BABE! B-babe?" I stopped moving, scanning his face. His face had gone from primal and filled with lust to primal...and filled with hunger.

He pulled from beneath me, but remained crouched on the floor, sniffing. He moved like a predator, prey in crosshairs, ripe for the picking. His body quivered as his fangs elongated.

I pulled open the door and shrieked as something fell back in my apartment. A woman. With fiery red hair, her porcelain face frozen in terror.

"Amy," I squeaked as a wave of nausea overwhelmed me. Her heart had been cut out of her chest.

Chapter Thirteen

Probation

Today was just not shaping up to be a good day at all. I'd spent most of last night and the wee hours of the morning talking to Detective Warren about Amy’s murder. Jack and I'd had to rain check our makeup sex extravaganza considering the neighbors might take issue if he got on his hands and knees and started lapping up all the fresh blood going to waste. And to top it off, the thermostat in my car read that it was 75 degrees--with the AC on full blast.

My tank dress clung to my sopping wet skin as I pulled into the backlot of NACA. I could waffle out here in my car and see just how many buckets of sweat my body could create, or I could get answers.

I mean, could things get any worse?

First, Kenny. The douche was strong with that one, but he didn't deserve to go out that way. Then there was Amy last night. She had a dash of douche herself, but I knew that she still loved her partner and kid. One night ruined it all. Well, two if you counted getting her heart ripped from her chest.

I had no idea why someone would want to do something so horrible as put a hex on two mortals. Guys like Kenny were a dime a dozen and it would probably be easier to list the people who've never cheated than those who strayed like Amy. The only thing they had in common was me.

That fact wasn't lost on Detective Warren. Apparently my innate charm was lost on him and I went from that quirky, weird girl to a person of interest in a homicide investigation.

I swung open the front door of NACA and stopped, like I'd been hit with a ton of bricks. The woman behind the desk had porcelain skin that glowed as the rays of the sun danced through the blinds. She had her fiery red mane stacked on top of her head and stopped fanning herself when her eyes met mine. "Jade!"

"H-hi Naomi," I said warily, clutching my purse. Out of all the mortals she could take her pick from, she chose one whose body wasn't even cold yet? "I didn't know shifters had a sense of humor."

Her emerald eyes softened. "You mean your charge?" She gestured at the tabloid mag open in front of her. "I'm wearing this skin." She glanced back up at me, cringing a bit. "I'm sorry...this fucking heat is messing with my brain." She flipped the pages, drumming her nails on the desk. "I'll change it up in a jiff."

"She's not here on NACA business," a baritone voice cut in behind her. "She's here as a prospective client." B stomped into the room, sighing loudly. The walls seemed to almost yawn and stretch, like the massive body before me was just what my human eyes could handle.

"A client?" Naomi repeated, crinkling her nose.

"Yeah," I stuttered, fumbling in my purse for my research pad. I held out the page with the Mark on it. "I saw this symbol, branded on Kenny's wallet, then Amy's chest."

"The Mark of the Cursed," Naomi mused. "Someone's been a naughty witch." She flashed me a reassuring smile. "Not you, of course."

I watched in awe as Naomi wheeled her chair around, shooting daggers at B. "Don't you dare charge her a cent. Jade is one of us and needs our help. I don't want your bad karma."

"Your karma can take care of itself," B shrugged. "The bills however-"

"Not a cent!" Naomi repeated.

"Gods, shifter," B said with annoyance. He turned to me, cocking his head to the back office. "Let's discuss this further. In private."

I mouthed a 'thank you' to Naomi and followed him to the back.

I could barely tell that the massive damage from the summoning gone awry even happened. The gaping hole was mended. A fresh coat of paint hid the scorch marks. The room was completely remedied and organized.

"And the necro who made me wait around all day for some mortal handyman won't be practicing magic or much of anything else," B said with a sinister grin, plucking my train of thought from my head.

Usually this is where I'd remind said supernatural to not probe my thoughts, but B just wasn't one you gave orders to. And even though his favorite color was money, he could still say no to my proposition. I didn't want to do or say anything that would tip the scales out of my favor.

"So you want our help," B began, cutting to the chase. "You want us to find out who's behind the murders."

"Y-yes."

"Hmm," he mused, stroking his chin. "And what would you say if I told you that some thought that well, you were the murderer."

"That's a lie," I said, a bit too loudly. I cleared my throat and began again. "Why would I kill them? I had more to gain by keeping them around and maybe getting another summoning out of it. And not to mention, the consequences are..." I made a decapitated sign. "Why would I do something so dumb?”

"That's a question I ask quite frequently when mortals are involved," B quipped.

I wasn't amused.

B let out another weary sigh. "Here's where I'm at, Jade." He flicked his wrist and a chair slid across the room, stopping behind me. "Have a seat."

I obeyed.

"As much as I'd love to take your money, I'd never hear the end of it from Naomi," he said with an eye roll. "Also, the Watchers forbid me from investigating on your behalf."

B looked at me like I just sprouted tentacles. "Frankly, I'm surprised they waited for the second body. You must have some friends in high places. Let me give you a couple of tips. Don't make eye contact. Don’t-"

But I wasn't really listening anymore. I was going to have to stand Trial for Kenny and Amy's murder. In the Great Hall...where the conviction rate was 95 percent.

B shuffled uncomfortably. "Uh, if you're gonna be sick-"

"I didn't hex anyone!" I said, hyperventilating. I wanted to curl in the fetal position. I didn't want to die. I could feel the tears of frustration and fear well in my eyes.

B scowled. "Please don't cry. Then I’ll get sick."

I swapped at my eyes. "I'm not crying. I'm just-" I paused, taking a deep breath to calm myself. "When's the Trial?"

"No date on the books for exposure offenses," B answered. "But I'd bet sooner rather than later."

I pulled at my sticky dress, jumping to my feet. I had to get out of here. I had to investigate myself, summon Kenny's ghost and-

"About that," B said, clearing his throat. "You're banned from performing magic until the case is tried. A precautionary measure."

"It'll work out if you're innocent," he said, pulling out a checkbook. "Probably." He scribbled something on a check then ripped it out and passed it to me.

"5,000 dollars," I read, surprised. "For what?"

B gave me a look of pity. "Mortal naiveté. You're an accused witch, Jade. You can't be in my employ until this matter is resolved."

"But I-"

"Time to go," B said, ushering me toward the door. "I'll see you at the Trial. Good luck." I turned back to him to plead my case a bit more but the room was empty. I was alone.

In a daze, I trudged back to my car. I was Screwed. With a capital S. I jumped when my phone vibrated. It was Sia.

I put it to my ear. "I think I was just suspended. And there's a 95 percent chance I'm going to be executed by the Watchers.”

Chapter Fourteen

Shop Away The Pain

All around me people buzzed with excitement. Mothers shepherded their children past toy stores, arms filled with bags. Men tinkered around in electronics stores. The tantalizing aroma of fast food and Chinese wafting from the food court. But the amalgamation of smells and sounds made me feel queasy. The voices were too loud and the air was too stuffy.