Lore vs. The Summoning (2 page)

"We'll pay you to look into this matter for us," he said loftily.

"Look into it?" I drawled. "That's it? Just
look
?"

Aiden's bare shoulders lifted in a gallic shrug. "Should you deem the activities worthy of taking action we wouldn't be opposed."

"But I'm not required to?"

"Oh, I believe you'll want to, Miss Denham."

I hated that voice. It was the smooth as butter, seductively low tone he wielded like a weapon to get what he wanted. In the beginning it had worked on me. I was building immunity. Thank the gods.

Focus on the facts
, the helpful little voice in my head whispered. I attempted to do just that. "A demon, you said?"

Aiden inclined his head in a sort of formal bow. "Yes."

He was being incredibly vague and I was beginning to lose my patience. Hitching my right hip out, I settled my weight onto it impatiently. "And why do you think this?"

"I'll outline our reasons when you have agreed to our request."

My shoulders lifted with a disgusted laugh. He was so sure that I'd help. I wanted to refuse based solely on that. But that was petty and I was above that sort of behavior. Most of the time.

More importantly if someone were trying to bring something into the world that the
vampires
were afraid of, then I needed to do everything in my power to stop it. There wasn't much on my evil scale higher than the undead.

Aiden coaxed with another toss of his hair and a soft question. "Perhaps you'd like to know how much we are prepared to pay?"

"I'm not really in this for the money," I replied with my snarkiest of tones.
 

But it was the truth. Aside from the building I'd inherited when I'd killed one of the biggest baddest motherfuckers in the city a few years ago and the silly leather cat suit currently wrapped around my skin, I didn't pull much in the way of salary from my nocturnal activities.

Aiden leaned toward me just enough that I'd noticed it but not enough to cry foul. His voice dipped lower, "If money isn't suitable incentive then what can I do to entice you?"

I about swooned at the definite innuendo spoken in that golden voice. Aiden was seriously hot no matter what glamour he chose to show me. The hair and face seemed to be ever changing. I wasn't sure blonde was the way to go and I'd never have suggested the curls (though they were actually quite becoming). Tonight he'd gone with a gently rounded chin as opposed to the square-jawed visages he'd sported the last few times I'd seen him.
 

I was beginning to think these changes to his glamour were in an effort to find the look I most approved of. The problem with that was I didn't need to approve of his look. There was something about him that transcended his appearance and even his unchanging eyes. Be it his voice, his mannerisms or his personality, Aiden could have appeared to me as Quasimodo and I'd probably still swoon.

Maybe I'd taken too long to reply or perhaps he'd simply been waiting for the opportunity to go off topic, but Aiden's silver eyes raked up the length of me with an appreciative smirk. "That seems a bit risqué for you, Miss Denham."

My teeth clenched behind my lips. I relaxed them enough to speak. "I'm not Miss Denham at the moment so kindly stop calling me that."

"And the hair." The smirk quickly drew into grin territory.

My hand went up to touch the sixties go-go dancer partial bouffant hair style I'd gone with tonight for my long sable locks. "Hardly recognized me, did ya?"

"I always recognize you," he replied in that sensual, buttery voice.

I couldn't decide if I should be weak-kneed or fighting the cold shivers. With Aiden it was a toss up. Did he want to kiss me or bite off my lips?

Not to be rude, I allowed my gaze to sweep up the length of him once more to return the favor. "That seems a bit...tight for you, Mr. Bruce."

"Aiden," he corrected me patiently. "It's quite comfortable. The fabric is designed to look snug but," and his hand went to the nonexistent waistband of his low-riding pants to gently lift it outward.

My eyes automatically shot away to keep from catching a peek at his dangly bits.

"Is actually roomy," he finished with an amused voice. "You make it far too easy."

I looked back at his face in an effort to figure out what the hell he was talking about. There had been no change from the mischievous smile he'd given me just before he'd flashed me. I got the feeling that he was just waiting for me to question him.

So I gave in, dully asking, "What?"

Without missing a beat the vampire replied, "You behave like a maid. I can always get a flush out of you."

"Lovely," I muttered.
Focus
, the little voice in my head snapped. "So about this desert shale thing. I'll look..."

Aiden chuckled at my expense.

"...into it. You guys can pay me if you want. But I make no promises on stopping this thing. I'm only one girl."

He had the smug smile etched into the bottom half of his face that told me he already knew I'd do everything I could. I realized that no matter how square, rounded or puckered his chin was, or how soft, lush or wide his lips were, Aiden managed to have the same expressions. That was when I knew it was time to go.

"Miss Denham," he called after me when I'd swiveled around to flee.

I turned just enough to see him.

In a sober voice he said, "I'd suggest postponing your vengeance trip until after you've heard what I have to say. Our goals may be more aligned than you realize."

Vengeance trip. Damn, I was slipping. I'd been about to run home just to be away from him. I'd nearly forgotten all about my wish to splatter the primordial ooze of a certain someone...I'd yet to actually identify. Maybe Aiden's freaky knowledge of my activities would come in handy.

I took a deep breath, turned fully and hoped I could keep my raging libido down long enough to listen to what he had to say.

CHAPTER TWO

"You should not have entered into any agreement with a vampire."

The new voice in the room forced my eyes away from the pages of the latest escapist novel I'd grabbed off the shelves of my second favorite Barnes and Noble. There was a tall, broad shouldered, dangerously handsome man standing in the hallway outside my bedroom. From where I sat I could see the slate of his eyes fixed on me beneath the fringe of his thick lashes. Carefully styled short kohl black hair glistened midnight blue as if there were a light source above him. There were none.
 

He lifted his arms to cross them over the impressive chest covered by a tailored black silk suit. The costly fabric was complimented by an iridescent light blue tie. The outfit made him look like a high-class Mafioso assassin. I might have been frightened if I hadn't seen this very sight nearly every week for nine years.

My eyes did a double take on the tie. Blue. Blue meant he was pissed off. Crap, I'd been hoping for a mauve or green day.

I returned my attention to the book. "I'm just going to be stopping this demon summoning thing anyway, Kastio."

"I am aware of this. As such there was no need to enter into an agreement," he insisted in his midrange of tones. He had exactly three: deep, deeper and deepest.

"It was a verbal agreement," I pointed out. "No money was exchanged and I didn't sign on any dotted line."

"Nevertheless, an agreement you have made."

I waved a dismissive hand in his general direction. "Look, I know you have some issue with Aiden but it wasn't like we sucked face or anything."

His voice lowered into his deepest range, "You were thinking it."

My head popped up to glare at him. "Damn it, Kastio! I hate, hate, haaaaate that!"

The bastard could read my mind anytime he wasn't with me. It sucked. Seriously.

He would say it was a requirement of being my guide. He'd add that I was blessed that my biological father, the Greek god Apollo, cared for me enough to assign a divine creature to help me. From where I sat, Kastio was almost as much of a curse as my supernatural power was.

He'd been a piss poor mentor. He stalked me, eavesdropped on everything -- and I mean everything -- meddled, mocked, and pestered. Once in a while he'd impart useful information but on the whole he was no better than a walking fortune cookie.

"I must once again warn you," he said grimly, "if you so much as think of taking up with the vampire. He will be killed."

"I remember," I snapped impatiently. I slapped the book into my lap grumpily. The space above my nose crinkled as I felt my expression sour. "So did you just drop by to force your usual morose self on me or do you have actual useful information?"

"Force myself on you?" He repeated with a lift of his glossy kohl eyebrows. "Perhaps you misunderstand the meaning of that phrase."

My face warmed a bright red hue. "I didn't mean it like that. I meant..."

"Did I come by to pester you with my moody square-jawed face that is incapable of forming a smile?" He parroted back a few of my own thoughts to me.

"Uh, yeah," I replied in a slow, uneasy voice. I was uncomfortable with that on too many levels.

"No," Kastio said flatly. "I came to suggest you look into this matter more in depth before embarking on it. The vampire is holding something back. There is more than a demon summoning at work here."

Aiden hadn't told me much. There were brown paper packages in the same exact size and shape (square, one by one foot boxes) being delivered to the Dungeon through the regular postal mail. They'd intercepted one. It had a rock in it, the rare desert shale.

Apparently summoning rituals for powerful entities had to be completed by someone with magical ability. The more power available to the individual, the greater the entity summoned. Hence why the vampires believed it was a key figure in the Covens. That was really all they had. It was pathetic at best.

"Hints would be nice," I said. "I'm on a deadline here."

Kastio's figure didn't move but I got the feeling he'd be shaking his head if he did that sort of thing. "You know that I cannot..."

I made a dismissive gesture, "I know, 'screw with Fate'."

My guide looked mildly affronted with a slight lift of his broad chest. "I would not have worded it quite so crassly."

"No, you'd have used ten words to do what I said in three."

Kastio's moody square-jawed face got moodier. He lowered his head into a kind of bow that meant I had exactly two-seconds before he'd disappear. "Hera keep you safe," my guide spoke his standard parting greeting. All that remained after was a Kastio-shaped cloud of mist. It hovered for a half a heartbeat before the tiny particles expanded out into the air around me.

Now that he was gone I knew he could dip into my brain. So I did the only thing I could think of: I picked the book back up and delved into a steamy sex scene between the protagonist and her hot adventurer rescuer. Maybe my guide would be disgusted enough that he'd go pester someone else and ignore me for a while. Only then would I actually be able to sleep.
 

There was a man at the bar wearing a brown and green flannel shirt. His messy walnut hair had sun-kissed highlights that could have been natural but I suspected they were salon bought. From across the room I could only tell that his eyes were dark, probably brown, and that they were currently fixed on the gorgeous brunette sidled up to the stool next to him.

Lovely. I'd called a meeting with this guy and he was chatting up some other chick. That would serve me right for going through proper channels for once. But I could be magnanimous. I'd give him a few minutes to close the deal with her before I rained on his parade.
 

I was in a surprisingly mellow mood given the crappy night of sleep I'd had and the fact that I'd gone a full day without much headway on this demon summoning thing. (It was a "thing" because I didn't want to call it an "investigation". That seemed like admitting what I did in the Underground was a job.) The only information I'd gathered was that the mailman who had been delivering the packages to the Dungeon was one of us, a member of the Underground factions. He was a werewolf. And the guy at the bar was his Alpha.
 

Ordinarily I wouldn't have bothered with permission but I fully intended on being brutal with the state's employee. That kind of information was going to get back to the Alpha. This meeting was a bit of C.Y.A. so that the big guy didn't go savage on me during the next full moon cycle.

I rested against the front wall halfway between the entrance and the live music, a spot that would allow me to observe the Alpha. Like Aiden Bruce, this guy wasn't actually big but he projected a large image. The men in the bar steered clear of that side of the polished cherry surface while the women were curiously drawn to it. I watched him toss back a shot of whisky, set the glass down and charm the model-thin woman with a mischievous grin of his wolfish teeth.

Wolfish. I had a silent chuckle. Sometimes I thought I needed to get out more.

Waif, the Alpha's model companion, leaned in to speak into his ear. Her breast was touching his left forearm. I was certain he noticed it. Guys like him had radar for where the nipple was at all times.

"What can I get you?"

My attention snapped to the waitress in front of me. She stepped out of the way of someone heading to the bathroom and into my line of sight. She was cute but blocking my view. I supposed I was rather obvious target, standing there without a drink in my hand.

"Strongbow," I answered her and handed over a wrinkled ten-dollar bill before she could take off.
 

With my line of sight clear again I noted that the Alpha was discreetly looking down Waif's shirt while she related some tidbit of information to him with wildly gesturing arms. And then before she'd finished, he spotted someone he liked behind her. For the three minutes it took the waitress to bring me my hard cider I watched the Alpha split his attention between the two women. Maybe he didn't need time to seal the deal with the brunette after all.

I handed the waitress a few ones for her trouble, deliberately set the drink down where someone would pick it up and then slowly made my way through the collection of people gathered to watch the softly crooning Indie band. A seat at the other end of the horseshoe shaped bar conveniently opened up as I approached. The Alpha's eyes swiveled across the bar to me as soon as I'd sat my jean-covered rear end down. I made eye contact and held it for a second longer than was polite. By then the man with the booze was waiting on my order.