of the male who’d spoken and immediately realized why he looked so familiar. Otorius, Representative of the Charbydon Political Party here in Atlanta. What the hell was a Charbydon noble doing in a strictly Elysian place of business? And it wasn’t every day you came across a noble—there were so few of them. The significance didn’t escape me as I feigned an embarrassed smile while rearranging my gown.
“Sorry, fellas,” Hank said, wrapping an arm around my waist and squeezing. “Just, you know, looking for a quiet spot with my lady.”
I stifled a groan. He was enjoying this charade way too much.
I turned my attention to the other one in the room and guessed from the cut of his suit and the confidence in his bearing that he was also a noble. In ancient times, we called them gods. They preferred the term Overlords, but I refused to call them that, arrogant bastards. They had the same enormous ego of the Adonai, making me wonder if the “First Ones” myth was true, if somewhere deep in the off-worlders’ ancient history the Elysian Adonai and the Charbydon nobles came from the same stock. Say that now, to either side, and you’d get your heart served to you on a silver platter.
The unidentified noble was leaning his hip on the desk, hands shoved into the pockets of black slacks, regarding me with open interest.
Calmly, I met his stare. A slight grin played on his mouth. Easy, absolute confidence surrounded him, and there was a sultry charisma that clung to him. Jet-black hair framed a face with hard angles, and eyebrows that reminded me of a crow’s wings in flight. He cocked one of those eyebrows at me, and I tried not to notice that my stomach did a gentle, surprising pull. Immediately, I suspected an allure charm.
“How did you get through the main entrance?” Otorius asked.
I played the submissive woman and let Hank explain the scenario we’d concocted. We were met with some serious suspicion. But Hank just cocked a grin and said, “Guess we got lucky, right, babe?”
“Right.”
Then the chair behind the desk turned around.
My heart stopped.
If Hank’s arm hadn’t been around me, I would’ve fallen.
The being who sat behind it came from my worst nightmare. The one I’d had every night since my death.
It was the dark one in the field who’d picked the flesh from my bones. He was here. And he was real.
Fear clawed at my mind, and my mouth went bone dry. I couldn’t swallow, couldn’t catch my breath. Every hair on my arms and legs stood straight.
My heart started again, hammering way too fast. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, so I blinked hard, trying to clear my vision, knowing I couldn’t be looking at the same male who’d invaded my dreams. But somehow it was. I might not have seen his face clearly in my nightmare, but I knew it was him. Somehow I knew.
His stare was on me from the moment he turned around and his eyes pierced me with horror, with every childhood dread and image of evil, all wrapped up in a face that spoke of calm, efficient brutality. A diabolical face.
I swayed. My fingernails dug into Hank’s arm. From the corner of my eye I saw him glance down questioningly.
“Who are you?” I choked out, trying desperately to hold on to reality and not give in to the weakness in my knees and the roll of my stomach.
His lips split slowly into a smile that didn’t move to his flat black eyes. “Come now, Charlie. You don’t remember?”
That smile cut a swath of terror straight to my soul. I had the distinct sense that I was falling as blackness claimed my vision.
6
“Charlie?” My partner’s voice filtered through the haze, sounding like the distant echo of a bank teller at a drive-through window. But that couldn’t be right, because I felt his warm hand around my upper arm.
Sludge filled my mind.
“Damn it, wake up,” Hank ground out, shaking me a little.
“Does she need a doctor?” another voice asked. Had to be the cute one.
In The Bath
“Sorry, fellas,” Hank said, wrapping an arm around my waist and squeezing. “Just, you know, looking for a quiet spot with my lady.”
I stifled a groan. He was enjoying this charade way too much.
I turned my attention to the other one in the room and guessed from the cut of his suit and the confidence in his bearing that he was also a noble. In ancient times, we called them gods. They preferred the term Overlords, but I refused to call them that, arrogant bastards. They had the same enormous ego of the Adonai, making me wonder if the “First Ones” myth was true, if somewhere deep in the off-worlders’ ancient history the Elysian Adonai and the Charbydon nobles came from the same stock. Say that now, to either side, and you’d get your heart served to you on a silver platter.
The unidentified noble was leaning his hip on the desk, hands shoved into the pockets of black slacks, regarding me with open interest.
Calmly, I met his stare. A slight grin played on his mouth. Easy, absolute confidence surrounded him, and there was a sultry charisma that clung to him. Jet-black hair framed a face with hard angles, and eyebrows that reminded me of a crow’s wings in flight. He cocked one of those eyebrows at me, and I tried not to notice that my stomach did a gentle, surprising pull. Immediately, I suspected an allure charm.
“How did you get through the main entrance?” Otorius asked.
I played the submissive woman and let Hank explain the scenario we’d concocted. We were met with some serious suspicion. But Hank just cocked a grin and said, “Guess we got lucky, right, babe?”
“Right.”
Then the chair behind the desk turned around.
My heart stopped.
If Hank’s arm hadn’t been around me, I would’ve fallen.
The being who sat behind it came from my worst nightmare. The one I’d had every night since my death.
It was the dark one in the field who’d picked the flesh from my bones. He was here. And he was real.
Fear clawed at my mind, and my mouth went bone dry. I couldn’t swallow, couldn’t catch my breath. Every hair on my arms and legs stood straight.
My heart started again, hammering way too fast. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, so I blinked hard, trying to clear my vision, knowing I couldn’t be looking at the same male who’d invaded my dreams. But somehow it was. I might not have seen his face clearly in my nightmare, but I knew it was him. Somehow I knew.
His stare was on me from the moment he turned around and his eyes pierced me with horror, with every childhood dread and image of evil, all wrapped up in a face that spoke of calm, efficient brutality. A diabolical face.
I swayed. My fingernails dug into Hank’s arm. From the corner of my eye I saw him glance down questioningly.
“Who are you?” I choked out, trying desperately to hold on to reality and not give in to the weakness in my knees and the roll of my stomach.
His lips split slowly into a smile that didn’t move to his flat black eyes. “Come now, Charlie. You don’t remember?”
That smile cut a swath of terror straight to my soul. I had the distinct sense that I was falling as blackness claimed my vision.
6
“Charlie?” My partner’s voice filtered through the haze, sounding like the distant echo of a bank teller at a drive-through window. But that couldn’t be right, because I felt his warm hand around my upper arm.
Sludge filled my mind.
“Damn it, wake up,” Hank ground out, shaking me a little.
“Does she need a doctor?” another voice asked. Had to be the cute one.
In The Bath
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