Cloak of Deceit: An Alex Moore Novel (9 page)

I’d been positive he was flirting with me during our workout — not just to distract me, but really flirting. As in, he couldn’t help himself. The timing was awful, and I’d been beating myself over the head with the reminder of my decision
not
to get involved with him. Of course I would imprint on the first person to take me under their wing in this new world. I would be dead twice over if not for him. He seemed nice. It didn’t help the situation that he was totally yummy. Ever since he’d streaked past me after his shower in nothing but a towel, all wet and flushed, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about spreading him out and licking the moisture from every dip and hollow of his inconveniently-gorgeous body.

But judging from my past history — and reaffirmed by my most recent dating disaster — as soon as I found myself that attracted to a man, I should beat feet the other direction. Only, I didn’t have that option. Julian’s house was too small to ignore his appeal entirely. A few states would have been better. Maybe an ocean. I couldn’t tell if it was my Undead instincts driving it, or just the direness of my situation, but my libido was riding me hard.

A thought occurred to me, and I held my breath. Did Undead
have
sex?

“Whoa.” I sat up. My manual was in the kitchen. But then I remembered Cody. Of course they did. They had to. Cody would never give up sex. But maybe Julian had taken a vow of celibacy or something. I snorted. “That would suck.”

“What would suck?” Julian said from the doorway.

I jumped like a cat stirred from a nap by a vacuum, then glared at him, trying to recover some grace. “Holy hell! Would you stop doing that?”

“You should be more aware of your surroundings.” A small smile quirked his lips. “What were you thinking about?”

Was I that obvious? Probably. Julian didn’t appear to miss much.

“Oh, I…uh.” I laughed and tucked my hair behind my ear. “I was just wondering if the Undead have sex.”

He kept his face carefully blank. “We do.”

“That’s good.” I shifted to a less sprawled position on the bed.

Julian’s brow furrowed, and I wondered if I was making him uncomfortable. Could it be he was a prude? I tried it out on him, and it didn’t fit any more than the monk bit — not on a man who exuded such leashed danger. It had to be something else.

“I guess we don’t have to worry about birth control or diseases though, huh?”

He blinked at me, his face going slack with surprise.

“I mean,” I quickly recovered, “can I get pregnant?”

He shook his head, watching me so closely I felt like I was under a microscope. I fidgeted, smoothing out the covers beside me.

“That’s good.” Was it good? I’d never really thought about children farther than someday. But that choice had been taken from me too. “I mean…one less thing to worry about.”

Smooth, Alex, real smooth.

Julian raised his eyebrows and then burst out laughing, a low rumble that made my cheeks burn.

I scowled at him, and he finally got a hold of himself, sitting down on the bed beside me. “A representative of the Cloak will be here in an hour to determine your immediate future based on how you answer his questions.”

“And?”

“And you’re lying on my bed contemplating sex and birth control.” He grinned. It was a good look on him.

“I was just wondering.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

Julian pushed my arms down. “Don’t pout. I’m not making fun of you.”

Could have fooled me.

He took my hand and pressed it between his warm palms and leaned closer, brushing the sides of our bodies together. “We do have sex.”

My temperature spiked, and just the pressure of him so close made my baggy, borrowed clothes feel constricting.

“Very good sex.” His teasing smile turned the corner and slammed into wicked territory.

Red Alert!

I was sure he was teasing me then, but when I met his eyes, there wasn’t a sliver of humor in them. The heat there, however, sent a shock wave of awareness through my body, making every hair stand on end.

“After we get everything cleared with the Cloak, I could show you,” he said in a low whisper.

That answered that question
.
Julian
was
interested in me too. He just didn’t want to crush on a chick who might be forbidden. Or due for execution. I couldn’t blame him for that. But he must have thought things looked promising, or he wouldn’t have put himself on the line now. He thought there was something for us beyond the warden/prisoner bit. I couldn’t deny I hoped so too. My body hummed with the knowledge that I could have him if I wanted. It made everything else I faced seem almost worth it, more thrilling and enticing, rather than just plain scary. And I couldn’t help it — the thrilling part turned me on.

God, I am so mixed up.

I pulled on a sultry smile and leaned a little closer. He opened his mouth a fraction, and we were sharing the same warm, moist breath.

“In your dreams, Jules,” I breathed against his lips.

“How did you know?” he said, then kissed me.

It was everything a first kiss should be — sweet, tender, unrushed. His mouth slipped over mine as if they were meant to fit together. It wasn’t full of the ferocious passion I’d always sought, but carried a promise of so much more. His kiss was a smoldering fire, still hot, still dangerous. He held my face in his calloused hands, but he was so gentle, as if I were something precious. He drank from my lips, savoring every drop. I forgot where I was. I had never been kissed like that. Ever. He hadn’t even used his tongue, and I was ready to melt into a puddle.

“Wow.” I gripped his wrists to keep him from pulling away. “Please tell me you can duplicate that.”

My nerve endings thrummed like a crystal bell resonating from the blow of that kiss. It was way, way, way too good. And that was very bad.

So much for keeping your head.

“I think I could do even better.” Julian didn’t seem immune either. He blinked slowly, as if still replaying it in his head or considering kissing me again. I wanted him to.

His fingers slipped away with a final caress of my cheek. The purplish tinge surrounded around him again, though I knew better than to mention it this time. Parts of my body were tightening and heating up with desire, much more intense than usual. Julian definitely hit my “go” buttons in a way they’d never been pushed before.

He cleared his throat. “But we have to deal with Derek first.”

“Right.” I stood up. Distance. I needed space to re-boot my brain. I could feel Julian’s gaze lingering on me as I crossed the room. I finally understood what the prickling feeling in the back of my skull was. I felt it whenever a particular type of Julian’s attention focused on me. He was right — being an Undead, or a psychic, or both did have perks. Foreplay had been skyrocketed into a whole other dimension.

You’re not getting involved, remember?

Who was I kidding? I wanted to get on with the sentencing so I could spend more time with my Undead Knight and find out how high that fire could really blaze.

Derek arrived at twelve a.m. sharp. I lingered in the kitchen while Julian talked to him first. Anxiety fizzled in the pit of my stomach. Julian seemed unconcerned about our visitor, but that didn’t give me much comfort. Julian appeared unfazed by anything short of the apocalypse. I flipped through his copy of
The Code
and tried to ignore the murmur of their voices. It reminded me of times when my mother would meet with work colleagues and I was supposed to make myself invisible. Only, I doubt they had been talking about whether to let me live, or what to do with me. That was a lot harder to ignore.

My host came to collect me a half hour later, his expression stern but otherwise unreadable. He didn’t touch me familiarly or show any hint of feeling. My senses went buzzing into overdrive when we entered the living room. Tension webbed the room with dizzying slashes of color I didn’t know how to interpret.

Derek stood as I came in, not out of manners, but out of caution. His aura was a thick smoky grey with stripes of white and crimson. The color scheme made me instinctively uneasy. I took an instant disliking to him. From the look on his face, it was mutual. So much for playing off his sympathies.

Bummer.

“Miss Moore.” He held out one of his meaty arms, directing me to sit as I approached. His voice was oddly nasal for a man so large. He filled nearly half of Julian’s small living room, an imposing white-haired bulk, with dead, grey eyes that made my steps falter. His scent was worse: an oiliness covered up by too much cheap aftershave.

I took a deep breath and held it as I sat down across from him. I tried to close the part of my mind picking up a vibe of ill intent from Derek as he towered over me like an albino gorilla. Alarm bells were going off in the back of my head, but I kept my composure.

“Derek Mueller, Knight of the Cloak, rank four.” He shoved a leather wallet in my face. I leaned forward and noted his official-looking ID, which listed his name, rank, base, and a transformation date of April 2, 1932. I glanced from the badge to him, hiding my surprise behind a mask of bland politeness usually reserved for fund-raisers and family reunions. He didn’t seem a day over thirty. I made a note to ask to see Julian’s ID later, and leaned back, crossing my legs. Derek’s aura was slowly fading out of my vision. I let out a thankful sigh. The in-put overload was very distracting. Hopefully once things were cleared with the Cloak, I could look into a way to figure out how to control the other half of my heightened awareness.

“Julian has told me what he knows about your situation, but I’d like to clear up a few things.” Derek sat in the chair across from me, which whined under his bulk. His clipped words held trace of something European, and even without super-senses, it was easy to pick up on the undercurrent of aggression.

I fixed an obliging smile on my face, waiting for him to go on. Just get this over with, then I could focus on getting my life put back together. Or at least starting a new one.

I checked the corner of my vision and found Julian leaning in the doorway to the kitchen, outside of the conversation but still present. The affirmation of Julian’s interest had made the possibility of a future seem more real. Would he stick around as I found my own way? After his duties were over? I hoped so. I wanted to see if the potential I felt was something more than desperation and Stockholm syndrome.

Derek flipped through his official-looking pocket-sized notebook. “You were turned by your boyfriend at a public bar Thursday night. Is that correct?”

“My ex-boyfriend.”

Derek paused, fixing me with his steely glare.

I rocked my foot back and forth. I’d seen enough cop shows to know not to elaborate — just answer the questions.

His lip curled as he looked back at his notes. “And you made your transformation last night, in your dormitory?”

I sighed. This was going to take a while. “That’s right.”

“Did you have any contact with Cody before then?”

I frowned at him. “Yes, he called me, before I…died.”

“What did he say?”

“That he was in trouble and leaving town.” I shifted in my seat and studied a small tear in the leather armrest. Did Julian really have to hear about my loser ex-boyfriend dumping me?

“Do you know where he is now?”

I looked up too quickly to disguise my surprise, then gave Julian a questioning glance.

“Miss Moore?” Derek’s voice pitched lower, though he still sounded like he had cotton stuffed up his sinuses.

I shook my head. “No. I thought…Julian told me he probably went to the Cloak with his Sponsor.”

Stupid, Cody—really stupid. I sure can pick ‘em.

“We’ll get back to that. Let’s talk about your transformation.” Derek sounded pleased with himself, and I really didn’t like that. “You caused the building to catch fire?”

“Uh…no.” I sat up straighter. “I took the vial Julian gave me and passed out, but I had a nightmare. I woke up in an earthquake. At least, it felt like an earthquake. The earthquake set off the fire alarm and the sprinklers. I didn’t know there was a fire.”

I chewed on my lower lip. The more I talked, the less convinced Derek seemed. But I was telling the truth, damn it! I looked over at Julian, who gave me the barest of headshakes and then stared at Derek, his face utterly blank.

“Julian reported that when he approached you after the fire, you threw him across an alley.” Derek’s cool gaze was calculating, with a flare of something else—anticipation?—that made my skin crawl.

“I didn’t
throw
him. I felt him coming and I just…” I waved my hands in the air.

Derek leaned away, reaching behind his back for something. I sighed and glued my hands to my sides. He didn’t seem reassured.

“I just put my hands out to block him, and he…flew away.”

Though if I knew how to do it, I might be tempted to send you for a spin.

“Did you inherit the telekinesis from your mother, or your father, or both?” he asked conversationally, writing something down.

“I don’t know,” I bit off in reply. “My father, I assume. My mother is totally normal as far as I know.”

“Have you used your powers since?”

I looked down at my lap, wondering if reading auras counted. Either way, Derek seemed hell-bent on not believing me, even if I told the truth. Something in my gut told me I couldn’t trust him either way. “No.”

“Have you been contacted by any members of the Grigori? Even telepathically?”

I shook my head and squirmed as he scribbled away. They could do that? After a long pause, I looked up to find Derek staring at me with the creepy dead eyes. I gulped, but didn’t cower as he probably expected me to.

“Miss Moore, I’d like you to come with me now.” He flipped his notebook closed and tucked it away.

“What?” I caught Julian moving in my peripheral vision, but Derek demanded all of my attention. He gripped my upper arm and yanked me to my feet. “But I didn’t do anything!”