Things That Go Hump In The Night (18 page)

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Authors: Amanda Jones,Bliss Devlin,Steffanie Holmes,Lily Marie,Artemis Wolffe,Christy Rivers,Terra Wolf,Lily Thorn,Lucy Auburn,Mercy May

BOOK: Things That Go Hump In The Night
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Pain and fear, huh? Well that explains a lot
.

"And what happens when someone breaks the rules?" asked Nicole.

She tried to ignore the pain triggered by Gabriel's use of the term,
Children of Lilith.
The pain told her that this was something Erik hadn't wanted her to know.

Which meant she absolutely
had
to learn as much as she could about it. Knowledge was power.

She was finally getting some answers to questions she'd had since escaping from her captivity six years ago. Even if she triggered Erik's whammy and spent the rest of the evening punished by an intense migraine and praying for death...it would be
so
worth it.

"Then Korinna and I get sent to investigate," Mark said, putting his jacket back on. "That's our other job—we're cops, more or less. We enforce the rules so that no one gets hurt, and the Children of Lilith don't come under the scrutiny of mortal justice systems."

And where were you when Erik was doing whatever he wanted to me?

Nicole knew her sudden burst of anger was irrational, the product of a long, emotionally draining day.

But damn, her life would have been so different now if Mark Aquila had been there to intervene six years ago! And if she'd been able to go through Werewolf Boot Camp then.

"Look," Gabriel said. "The Children of Lilith are not intrinsically evil. We're not demons. We're just...different. Like the shape-shifters. And like any group of mortals, most of us are fairly nice and try to do the right thing, some are assholes, and a very small percentage are evil. It sounds like you may have encountered one of the evil ones, Nicole, and for that, I'm very sorry."

She shook her head. "Not your fault, Gabriel. You seem like one of the good guys to me."

"My red bracelet means that I'm a
philtatos
, a Beloved Companion of a Child of Lilith," Mark said. "I'm not anyone's slave, and I don't have to follow anyone's orders. It just lets me share my..." he paused, as if trying to think of the correct term, "my heart and my soul and my emotions with my wife Korinna."

That would have sounded very romantic—if Nicole hadn't been wearing one of the bracelets herself. Hearing that
Erik
was connected to her like that was just...
creepy
.

"And Korinna is a—" Nicole stopped herself as she felt the pain poised to strike her. "Like Gabriel?"

Mark nodded. "She's also the one who trained me after I'd been changed. She saved my life and taught me how to make sure that my wolf served me instead controlling me."

He looked Nicole in the eye, his gray gaze intense, commanding. "Nicole, did someone bind you with a bracelet like mine?"

"Yes, but—" she began, and a lightning bolt of white-hot agony shot through her skull.

Nicole clutched her head and breathed in ragged gasps, trying not to moan—or scream. It felt like her skull might explode if she didn't stay absolutely silent.

"Nicole, what's wrong?" Mark barked.

"Someone put a
geas
on her," she heard Gabriel say. She felt a strong arm around her, supporting her. "I can see it in her aura now—black lines radiating up from her arm." He paused. "Hold her for me, will you?"

"A
geas?
Well, then, no wonder she couldn't tell us anything useful before," Mark commented as he embraced Nicole, supporting and immobilizing her at the same time. "Can you do something about it?"

Nicole felt the left sleeve of her hoodie being rolled up, and she thrashed in a futile attempt to escape Mark's iron grip.

"No!" she panted. "Don't! I'm not allowed to—" Then a fresh tsunami of pain crashed into her, and she couldn't speak at all.

"She's wearing a
philtatos
-charm, and the
geas
is definitely linked to it," she heard Gabriel say, his voice faint against the roaring in her ears.

"Can you remove it?" Mark asked urgently. "I don't like this. I've seen spells like this before—the
geas
could kill her, if the caster was nasty enough."

"Damn it, I'm not good with spells," Gabriel said, his voice strained. "I don’t want to make it worse by just removing the bracelet."

"Call your mother. Or Amor Aphrodisios. Or even Korinna, if neither Ianthe or Amor are available. But pull out your phone and do it fucking
now!
" ordered Mark.

There was long pause while Gabriel dialed a long string of numbers.

Nicole, still cradled in Mark's arms, heard Gabriel say, "
Mi̱téra
," followed by a rapid spate of a language Nicole couldn't identify.

Gabriel finished speaking, and Nicole's werewolf-sharp ears caught the sound of a woman's voice coming from his phone, replying in the same language.

Then Mark said something, his voice rumbling through Nicole's body, and the woman laughed.

Gabriel spoke again: a question.

The woman said something that sounded an awful lot like "Good luck," and cut the connection.

The pain was getting worse. Nicole's heart was pounding in a jittery, erratic beat that felt like a massive caffeine overdose. She felt agonizing pressure building in her ears and behind her eyeballs.

What if her skull really
did
explode this time?

She felt Gabriel touch her face gently. "Nicole, may we remove your bracelet?"

She struggled to speak around the choking agony of Erik's spell. "I've been trying...to get rid...of this fucking thing...for years," she whispered.

"Okay," Gabriel said, his voice low and soothing. "Everything will be okay. I'll get this off you in just a moment."

She felt his hand circle her left wrist, then magic flowed over her skin like cool water.

Gabriel said something in a guttural language, different from the one he'd been speaking earlier, and there was a sudden flare of heat and the stink of burning cotton.

And the pain—
all
the pain—just stopped. Vanished completely, leaving Nicole feeling drained and hollow.

"Hey, you all right?" Mark asked.

She opened her eyes and looked at her left wrist. The red string bracelet was gone. Only a smear of soot and a sprinkling of ashes remained. She felt...
lighter
.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I tried everything to get it off. I couldn't cut it, or tear it, or untie it..."

Gabriel, who was kneeling before her, didn't let go of her hand.

Now that she knew what he was, she saw how Gabriel's illusion cloaked his true appearance, swirling around him like a veil, only partly concealing the fascinating blue skin beneath.

"Using a
philtatos
-charm like this is an abomination," he told her. "It's supposed to bind two lovers together, not serve as an anchor for a
geas
or be perverted into a magical GPS tracking device for a stalker."

"So
that's
how Erik was always able to find me?" Nicole asked dully. "Awesome."

"It's over now," Gabriel said.

He released her hand. Then he hesitantly opened his arms to her, inviting her.

She felt Mark release her as she sagged to her knees and fell into Gabriel's embrace.

He might be only half-human, and blue, but it just felt so
right
when he touched her. Even though she now knew what he was.

The guy I'm dating is a sex vampire. Holy crap.

But somehow, the thought didn't repulse her. Especially when he brushed soft, cool kisses against her temple, her cheek, and her ear, sending pleasant shivers down her spine and into her belly.

She felt
safe
in Gabriel's arms. Safe and cherished. 

Mark cleared his throat. "I think you two got a lot of stuff to say to each other, so I'll head out. Nicole, I want your ass at tomorrow's lesson. I only got a couple of weeks before Korinna comes home, and I'm not gonna leave a half-trained shape-shifter to roam around this city."

"Okay," she said, her voice muffled because her face was pressed against Gabriel's neck. She found his scent comforting.

"Gabriel, you get someone over here tomorrow to install sensors on all the windows. Have 'em add a bunch of motion detectors while they're at it. Tell 'em
not
to post a sign—all that does is tell the bad guys what to expect so that they can disarm the system faster."

"I'll have to ask my landlady about installing an alarm system," objected Nicole.

Mark snorted. "Ask forgiveness, not permission. If she gives you any shit about it, tell Gabriel to buy the place for you. He can afford it—think of it as a hiring bonus."

Nicole's jaw dropped. Mark winked at her and turned to go.

"Tomorrow, right after work," he growled. "Don't be late this time. And if you really wanna apologize for blowing me off tonight, bring me an order of that tandoori chicken we had for lunch the other day."

As he left, Nicole could feel Gabriel laughing silently.

She stayed in his arms for a long time, ignoring the hard floorboards of the porch under her knees.

"It's cold out here," she said eventually. "Why didn't the two of you wait for me inside the house? You run a security company—I know you could get in with barely any effort."

That realization should have worried her, but it didn't. 

Gabriel stiffened against her. "I would never just enter your home—unless you were in danger." He sighed. "You're not still afraid of me, are you? I swear I would never hurt you or do anything you didn't want me to do."

"I know," she said with complete sincerity. "What happened earlier—that didn't have anything to do you with you. Or," she added when he began to protest, "at least, not much. I know you're a good guy, Gabriel. I just needed some time to calm down and remember that."

"In that case," he said, his lips brushing the outside curve of her ear with every word, "may I come in?"

Nicole got to her feet, a little stiffly, and nodded. "Have you had dinner? I have a bunch of leftovers I could nuke, and I probably have some wine stashed somewhere."

Gabriel grinned and she caught a shimmer of blue ripple across his face. "That would be great."

He took her hand, and together, they went into her house.

 

Chapter 13 – A Year and a Day

The kitchen of Nicole's Victorian house hadn't been renovated since the late 1970s, and it had cheap, ugly fake-oak cabinets and even uglier counters made of white tiles separated by thick bands of dark brown grout.

Its only good feature was that it was large enough for two people to work in without constantly bumping into each other.

Nicole dug in the fridge for the takeout containers, a mixture of Chinese and Indian leftovers, with a bit of Thai red curry thrown in for variety. She let Gabriel pop them into the microwave to heat while she rummaged in her cabinets and drawers for clean plates, glasses, and cutlery.

She even found a bottle of decent white wine chilling in the fridge, a Livermore Valley Sauvignon Blanc that she thought would pair well with Asian food.

Neither of them spoke much as they worked.

Nicole was exhausted and hungry from her emotional rollercoaster of a day, and she figured that Gabriel was probably feeling much the same.

But he did find excuses to touch her while they maneuvered around each other in the kitchen—a light kiss on the nape of her neck, exposed by the ponytail she wore, an affectionate brush of his fingertips across her arms or shoulders, even a quick hug as he came up behind her when she was on tiptoe, reaching for the plates stacked in a cabinet.

She found she liked it. It was gently flirtatious without making her feel crowded. And it was damned flattering that this gorgeous man simply couldn't help himself, but just
had
to touch her.

"Just the bread to go now," Gabriel told her as the microwave beeped and he opened the door.

"Hey, Gabriel?" she asked.

"Yes?" He turned to hand her the platter, crowded with the heated takeout containers.

"I'm glad you're here," Nicole said, feeling shy.

She went up on tiptoe and gave him a quick kiss on his mouth, his lips cool against hers, before grabbing the platter from him.

As she headed out into her dining room, she saw him smiling.

* * *

Nicole had the bottle of wine open and was pouring when Gabriel joined her with the final item—a warmed stack of mini-naan from a local Indian grocery, that Nicole kept in the freezer and popped in the toaster whenever she wanted some of the chewy flatbread.

Then they sat down and dug in.

Nicole ate ravenously and felt her sense of equilibrium returning after the first helping of naan and leftover curried lamb.

Gabriel sipped at his wine and tore off pieces of the bread, which he used to scoop up his own portion of curry. His dark eyes were warm as he watched her eat.

"Mark hasn't been too hard on you?" he asked.

Nicole shook her head and swallowed before replying.

"He's a real drill sergeant, but I've learned a lot over the past three days. I never thought that being a werewolf—I mean, shape-shifter—could be so cool!" She took a mouthful of wine. "Now Rafe, on the other hand...does he
ever
sleep? He's in meetings all day, but he's still churning out pages of the version 3.0 architectural design spec, and I don't know where he finds the time. I'm a little worried that he's going to expect me to keep up with his insane work schedule."

"The Children of Lilith don't usually need as much sleep as ordinary humans," Gabriel said, "but Rafe is a real night owl, even for us. I worry about him sometimes."

Gabriel lifted his glass and swirled the pale golden wine, watching it catch the light from the antique brass-and-glass dining room lamp, before he continued speaking.

"I'm glad that you trusted me enough to tell me about being a shape-shifter, and I'm really glad that you know what I am, but I'm sure you've got questions."

Nicole spooned up some delicious
dal
, a spiced lentil soup, and considered.

"Okay, there's one thing I'm dying to know," she said finally and saw Gabriel brace himself. She grinned. "Was Mark ever
really
a CIA assassin?"

"Mark? A...
what?
" asked Gabriel, after a startled pause. He put down his wine glass and eyed her incredulously. "Where did you hear
that?
"

"Well, that's the story going around the office. Everyone's scared shitless of him, and when Betty heard that he'd be doing my background check, she acted like Mark was going to be judge, jury, and executioner. She heard the CIA story from...uh, someone else."

Gabriel laughed. "I don't know if he's heard that one yet. CIA assassin?" He shook his head, looking incredulous. "That makes him sound like an action movie character."

"When they film his biopic, they'll have to cast Jason Statham to play him," Nicole responded, deadpan.

Gabriel laughed, and she decided she could fall in love with him just for understanding her sense of humor.

"As far as I know, Mark has never worked for the CIA," Gabriel said, leaning back in his chair. "But he
is
a genuine bad-ass. Before he became a werewolf, he was a soldier, a Roman legionary. He once told me that he'd worked his way up the ranks until he was promoted to centurion, which meant he commanded a cohort of nearly five hundred soldiers. Being a centurion means he was one of the toughest bastards in an army composed of really tough bastards."

"Hah!" exclaimed Nicole. "I knew it—he really
was
a drill sergeant!"

"Among other things." Gabriel grinned at her. "When I was growing up, Mark was the cool but scary uncle who'd visit every so often. He told the
best
stories. When we three boys hit adolescence, Mother and Father asked Mark to come for an extended visit so that he could train the three of us—Michael, Rafe, and me—in basic sword-fighting and hand-to-hand combat." Gabriel paused. "We were incredibly excited that we'd be taught how to fight with swords—it was an old-fashioned art even back then, but so
cool
. Mark...wore us out. Completely. Every day for
weeks
. My mother was quite pleased that none of us, not even Rafe, had the energy to get into any mischief, for once."

Nicole ate more of the
dal
as she considered her next question. She'd asked about Mark mainly to lighten the mood a little, but Gabriel's answer tantalized her.

"Gabriel, just how old
are
you?"

He sounded almost apologetic as he replied, "I’m still pretty young for a Child of Lilith. So in case you're wondering, I was never a Roman legionary or medieval knight or anything interesting like that. I was born in 1880, so I grew up with electric lights, telephones, cameras, and phonographs, but long before television or the Internet."

"And Rafe? Is he really your younger brother?"

Gabriel nodded. "Born in 1893. I have a number of older siblings and half-siblings, but they were all already grown up and had been on their own for a very long a time by the time Michael, Rafe, and I came along. They come to visit from time to time, so I've met most of them, but we don't have a lot in common. They're more like distant cousins than brothers or sisters, I guess. Some of them are full-blooded Children of Lilith, and others are half-human, like me."

"So you're immortal?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Pretty much. We—the Children of Lilith—just stop aging when we hit adulthood."

"But Mark Aquila is human? Not a Child of Lilith?"

He nodded.

"And he's, like, two thousand years old?" She fiddled with a piece of naan. "Is that because he's a were—uh, shape-shifter?"

Am I going to live forever, too?
She didn't say that part out loud, but Gabriel shook his head and answered her as if she had.

"Some mortals, if they're chosen as a Beloved Companion—that's what
philtatos
and
philtata
mean—eventually become immortal through prolonged intimate contact with a Child of Lilith."

He paused and reached across the table to entwine his fingers with hers.

"That's why we're careful to wear condoms when we're with someone new. A long time ago, we were forbidden to have any direct skin-to-skin contact with mortal lovers. Some of the older Children of Lilith still remember having to wear gloves and masks and only use toys with their
philtatoi
. Thank all the gods that those days are over!"

"So Mark...and Stephen Jadikira—they're both
philtatoses
, too?" Nicole asked.

"
Philtatoi
," Gabriel corrected. He nodded soberly. "My father is human, and considerably older than Mark. And from some of the things he's told me, it hasn't been easy for him. He's probably the only person left in the world who can read the hieroglyphs that the archaeologists call Linear A and who still knows how to speak the ancient Cretan language. The palace where he grew up is an archaeological park now, and the only things that modern people know about his culture are the stories told by his people's enemies, the Mycenaean invaders who conquered Crete."

"I can't imagine what that must be like...and now he's working in high tech." Nicole paused. "That's quite a career change."

"I know," agreed Gabriel. "But for someone who's seen it all and done it all, this era provides a treasure trove of new knowledge, new experiences." He refilled her wine glass, then his own. "Both Mark and my father have managed to survive, but a lot of immortals just give up eventually. You know, eternal youth sounds like a great deal, and it is...until the people around you begin aging and dying, and eventually, you're left to muddle along in a world of short-lived strangers."

"And you don't have a—what did you call it?
Philtatos
?"

She found herself holding her breath after asking him. She didn't like to think about him with another woman.

And she
really
hoped he wasn't the kind of guy who would wine and dine and make out with her while he was in a committed relationship with someone else.

Gabriel shook his head. "I haven't met anyone I wanted to have that kind of long-term relationship with...until now."

Gabriel's hand tightened around hers.

Despite the feeling of pure joy that shot through her, Nicole jerked her hand away in an involuntarily reflex.

"I'm sorry," she said almost immediately. "I didn't mean—"

He reached up to press his finger against her lips. "It's all right, Nicole. Don't apologize. After seeing the
geas
that bastard put on you, I can only imagine what you've been through."

"But I want to move forward," she said firmly.

"Nicole, I know it's a lot to ask, but I'd really like to know what happened to you," Gabriel said. "As Mark mentioned, he's the equivalent of a cop for the Children of Lilith. If we can find and stop the rogue Child of Lilith who's been stalking you, then maybe we can prevent what happened to you from happening to someone else."

She looked at him, thoughts and memories and words jostling for space on her tongue. "That spell you broke...it restricted what I was allowed to say. I've never been allowed to tell anyone what happened to me," she said. "It's not—" She swallowed. "Not pretty."

His face was filled with compassion as he replied. "I didn't think it was."

She indicated the empty takeout containers on the table, "Let's get this mess cleaned up first—"
while I nerve myself up to remember the bad stuff
"—and then maybe we can move to my living room to talk."

They quickly cleared the table, rinsing out the takeout containers for the recycling bin and loading the dishwasher.

Now that she had eaten and soothed her jittery nerves with a glass of wine, Nicole felt tired but also weirdly energized. She felt as if she'd been relieved of a weight that she hadn't even known she was carrying.

Over the past six years, she had become used to the feeling of being watched, of the paranoid sense of knowing that someone was lurking just out of sight. She had felt like constantly looking over her shoulder.

And now that sense of constant scrutiny was gone. It had vanished the moment Gabriel had destroyed the red string bracelet.

She remembered what Gabriel had told her about the
philtatos
bond. No wonder she had been unable to put Erik behind her—even after she'd escaped, he still had maintained a connection to her.

It's like he put spyware in my head
, she thought and felt her stomach clench in rage and disgust.

When everything had been put away, Gabriel picked up the wine glasses and the half-full bottle of wine from the dining room table and followed Nicole into the living room.

The high-ceilinged Victorian room had a beautiful hardwood floor, an original molded plaster ceiling...and hideous flower-patterned wallpaper in eye-watering shades of green, red, and orange.

Nicole saw Gabriel come to a dead halt in the doorway. Her living room had that effect on some people.

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