Heart of Darkness (10 page)

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Authors: Lauren Dane

Tags: #Romance, #General, #Paranormal, #Fiction

BOOK: Heart of Darkness
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He didn’t take his eyes from the road, but she could see surprise ghost over his features.
“For what?”
“You came to my door and you made my day better.”
“Oh. Well,” he sort of stammered and it charmed her. Made her wonder how often he received that sort of praise.
“I may as well ask you out for tomorrow as well. I’ve secured some tickets for
Turandot
.”
“You did?” She grinned. “Really?”
He laughed. “I’m glad to know you like the plans.”
“Can you do that? Take a Saturday night off? They do have a matinee.”
“Weekends are obviously busy. And I do need to be there. But I can go after the opera. Or you could come with me. We have a manager for the human part of the club. Simon’s my partner so he’s there as well.”
“So does he sit in that booth surrounded by women in tight dresses and their bits hanging out?”
His grin was wide and it made her want to take his hand, so she did.
“Jealous, my gorgeous witch? Don’t be.”
“Mmm-hmm. We’ll see about that. When I come to visit do I get a harem? To match yours?”
He snorted. “I think not. And they’re not a harem. Not really.”
Not anymore they weren’t.
HE
led her through the entry of the restaurant, his hand at the small of her back. He knew, as he caught sight of the two of them in the mirrors there, that they made a striking couple. People stopped to look, and he didn’t blame them. She was long, but curvy, lush. Moved with a certain kind of self-assured grace and strength. The power she had been gifted with shimmered from her, like pixie dust.
He took a deep breath, breathing it into his lungs, loving her scent all bound up with the flavor of her magick. In marked contrast to many of the dresses the other women wore, she had on a short, seventies-flavored number. Dark blue. No sleeves, but a collar that was ornamental, like a bold necklace. He was fairly sure that dress wouldn’t have worked on too many other women. But Meriel Owen wasn’t too many other women.
In her heels, she was as tall as he, which had proved useful when he’d leaned in for the first kiss of the evening. Ha! First kiss. If ever words did not do justice to what they’d shared in her entry, it was those. He’d had to step back to keep from pushing farther. He knew she wanted him, knew if they’d continued that kiss and grope in her hallway, they’d have ended up in bed.
And, he had to admit, this slow build, while murder on his cock, was damned sexy. Like very sensual foreplay. Because the longer he thought about what she’d said the night before, the more he not only understood her perspective, but he agreed with it.
He found himself at ease with her. So often he felt as though he had to hold back, had to stay sharp because everyone always wanted something from him. And part of that was his own fault, when you run with a bunch of criminals for years, it’s not surprising when one of them screws you over.
But this was a sort of quiet ease. And he liked it.
He held her chair out and she sat, allowing him to push the chair in and circle to sit and face her. She made him want to be a better man. Made him want to take care of her. It was unsettling even as it was a good thing.
He took the menu and looked it over before setting it aside to turn his attention back to her. “I like this place. It’s dark, but not so dark I can’t see your face. That would be a shame, since it’s so nice to look at.”
Her gaze flicked up to snag with his. “Thank you. I’ve eaten here a few times, usually for business lunches and that sort of thing. It’s quite lovely at night. Romantic even.”
He’d thought so too, which is why it had been the first place that had come to his mind to bring her. “Tell me, why did you become a lawyer?”
“You might know that we run a series of design businesses. Turns out I suck at any sort of gardening or landscape and interior design. I hate math. Law was a logical choice. My father suggested it, said I could get paid to be argumentative.”
Her smile brightened a little and he found himself doing the same in response. “I know I’ll be taking over for my mother. It seemed logical to follow a career path where I could be active in the governance of the business. I need to be prepared.”
Conversation paused as their drinks were delivered and the order was taken. A mysterious smile marked her lips when he did the ordering, but she didn’t seem angry or annoyed by it.
He’d done enough research on Clan Owen to have earned a slightly fearful respect for Edwina Owen. Enough that he wondered just what a woman like her had been like as a mother. “What does she do? Your mother, I mean?” he asked once the server had retreated.
She laughed. “Edwina does everything and she does it all exceedingly well.” After a sip of her drink she put it down to bring her attention back to his face. “Where did you grow up?”
“Eastern Oregon. Just outside Bend. Tom, my foster dad, heck, my dad really, he’s a backcountry guide.”
“Do you miss it? That sort of rural living?”
He paused, thinking. “No. It’s clean and certainly far enough away to keep most kids out of too much trouble.” He’d often wondered if that wasn’t exactly why Tom had settled them there. It had worked. For a while anyway. “But I like the energy in cities. I like the movement and the hum and the ability to get breakfast at three in the morning.”
She laughed. “Yes, I have to agree I like that too. Though I do enjoy the forest quite a bit. There’s a lot of energy to draw from here. A lot of people around. But in nature I find it’s often easier to work. There’s less interference.”
She knew a lot more about magick than he did. He might have been annoyed by this any other time, but right then, he found himself wanting her to show him her world. Maybe even to teach him about his own.
“So tell me about the call.”
Casually, she looked around and he caught the movement of her lips and knew she’d done something to give them privacy.
“I’ve been made the liaison with other groups of witches.” The look on her face told him that had been a hard-won job. “So first I got word of some witches who’d gone missing in New Mexico. We’d heard over the last eighteen months or so about some others who’d been attacked. Magically attacked. Today I spoke with the hunter of the Rodas Clan. One of the oldest and most respected clans in the country. Headquartered in Rhode Island,” she explained at his blank look. “They have in their custody some mages who’d been working with some anti-paranormal hate groups to stalk and steal magick from witches.”
He sat up straighter. “Do tell. Why is it they’d come to have these creatures in their hands?”
“What they know is that two witches had been targeted. One of them had been victimized over most of her life. Slowly siphoned from. The other was attacked more suddenly and recently.”
“But why? Why would they do it?”
“Greed? I don’t know for sure, but we have heard of these cases where witches have been targeted and then attacked.”
“For what purpose though? Like feeding junkies and turned witches? What? Tom always taught me that magick with a
k
was our natural energy but what stuck witches used was magic because inherent magick can’t be traded like that.”
“We don’t know yet. Rodas has them and they’re still being questioned. Gage is working with their hunter so they’ll keep us apprised. Oh, and you’re correct about the differences between a witch’s magick and what gets produced when it’s stolen.”
He had no idea they’d take people into custody. Clearly he had a lot to learn about clans.
“It’s just … well, I’m stunned to be honest.” She shook her head.
“Stunned that people would want to steal the riches you have when they have none?” He shrugged. “People are ugly, baby. They’re ugly and selfish and lazy. Lazy enough to steal from someone so they don’t have to do the work themselves.” But if any of them came within a five-mile radius of her, he’d fuck them up.
“Well, look, I was raised to appreciate what I have. What I was born with. Of course it’s stunning and horrible to know people would use pain and death to amp up their power. Power they’re not supposed to have. It offends me deeply. But that’s not the real issue here. My biggest concern is the existence of this cooperation between the mages stalking witches and these sick, hateful humans.”
“So much for not coming out. Clearly we’re not a secret like you all wish we were.”
One of her brows raised and he realized he liked to spar with her. He didn’t trust too many other people enough to have deep political discussions with them. Things were different with Meriel. There was an ease to their banter he only had with those close to him.
“You think we should come out?”
The appetizers arrived so the conversation halted for a few minutes.
“I think it’s impossible to hide much longer. The wolves came out, the cats are out. Vampires aren’t far behind. If we come out, we control it from the start. That’s why the wolves did it that way and I think, considering the whole picture, they’ve been all right. It’s not a matter of should, it will happen. So I’m in favor of being in control of the how and the when. If you let these petty thugs go unchecked, they will do it themselves. And they win.”
“The wolves were forced out. It’s something people toss out as if they did it on purpose. They didn’t. They had the same fears we do. And now they’re exposed.”
“But they had a plan in place. They took it from nearly the start and made it into what they wanted.” He shrugged.
“Every time we come out, or humans focus on us, we end up hunted and killed en masse. There’s an active movement to make Weres register with their local governments so they can be tracked. Some counties and even a few states have passed laws restricting what jobs Weres can hold. Can you imagine what it would be like for us if humans found out that witches were real?”
He waved it away. “They do already. Pagans and Wiccans are out. People have the idea in their heads. We’re halfway there as it is.”
“And look at what happens to some of them! People get fired, lose business, friends and neighbors turn on them. And if this mage thing turns out to be a bigger, more organized threat? Which I think it is. What then?”
“Gonna be an issue one way or another, isn’t it? The way I see it, part of the problem is that you’re still closeted. Makes it easier to isolate and get away with what they’re doing. Because how can you go to the cops if it’s a magickal theft? The truth is they can’t drown us now. We’re too powerful and we’d never allow it. Isn’t that why you all organized into clans to start with? United and powerful.”
She smirked, but it was amused more than annoyed. “When we came west, it was one of our aims. And we are strong, yes. But we can be killed just like anyone else. My ability to protect my people shouldn’t be weakened by the choices I make.”
“Except you have the power to blow the doors off this place with a flick of your fingers.” He’d been making an overstatement, but when she shrugged, he realized she could in fact do that.
“I don’t think it would be so negative. I’m not convinced of that at all. And frankly, I just think it doesn’t matter. At this point you and I both know it’s only a matter of time. There are already humans who know we exist.”
She leaned forward. “Yes! Yes, I do and apparently they’re hunting us down and aiding freaks to kidnap, torture and kill us. No, thank you.”
“You know it’s going to fall to you. You’re next to run the family business.” He didn’t envy that task, even as he admired her for taking it on so dutifully. “It’s there whether you like it or not. That’s all I’m saying.”
“It’s all I think about,” she mumbled before spearing a prawn and offering it up his way.
He leaned forward and took the proffered food, warm inside that she’d offered, at the intimacy of that moment between them. “I’m here if you want to talk. I mean, I’ve not been in training to be the next leader or what have you, but I’m a good listener. And”—he paused to take a drink and then to move back so the main course could be delivered—”I like to hear you talk about it all. Your world.”
Her worried look faded with a smile. “Thank you for that.” She paused as she ate. Emotions chased over her features as he watched. As he tipped into something far deeper than a crush or a like.
Finally her gaze locked with his again. “I’m trying to process it. Figure out all the angles. I need to understand how each variant will affect an outcome. And then I have to understand how to overcome any challenge to my clan on any front.”
He waited, drinking in the sight of her there across from him. “You have doubts in your ability? Because, I’m not really seeing that. I looked you up today. I admit it. You’re an incredibly successful woman. You’re not the type who fails and you’re certainly not the type who quits.”
She closed her eyes for a few long moments. He wanted to soothe her, but he sensed she didn’t need that and hoped he was right.
“No, it’s not that. I don’t doubt my ability to protect them. This clan has deep roots here. Our base is secure.” She hesitated and he wondered what it was she wanted to add but felt conflicted over. “Suffice it to say, I can handle any sort of challenge. Just gets a little overwhelming at times. And while we’re good here, others aren’t. There are places where witches don’t even have an informal coven. They’re pretty much alone, which makes them a target. I … it’s more than about my clan, this is about all of us. Our whole race is at risk. We can’t let that happen.”

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