Threshold of Pleasure (Mills & Boon Nocturne Cravings) (6 page)

Eden leaned against the cubicle side and stared hard at the wall. She was missing something. But as she stared, something happened. Her visions wavered in and out as if looking through a wave of extreme heat. The solid bricks didn’t appear so solid anymore—they looked languid, viscous like a thick white fluid. It had to be a trick of the fluorescent light in the bathroom, but she dared to hope otherwise.

Tentatively, she reached out with her hand and pressed her fingers to the wall right were she could see it shimmer. Her fingers didn’t hit anything solid, but something gushy and malleable. She kept pushing and her fingers went through the material and disappeared from view.

Panicked, she pulled her hand back and looked down at it. It was still solid; her fingers were still there. But they glimmered with what looked like something shiny and wet. She rubbed it between her fingers—it was like liquid silk.

Taking a deep breath, Eden stepped forward and pushed both hands to the wall—they sunk into the impossibly mysterious substance. She followed it through, unsure if she was delirious or if this was truly real.

As she walked through the gelatinous wall, her body tingled. It was as if a thousand pins had pricked her flesh, from the top of her head to the bottoms of her feet. There wasn’t exactly pain, but it wasn’t a pleasant feeling either.

The sensation lasted only a few seconds, and then she was through the barrier. Blinking, Eden looked around. She was no longer in a cubicle in the men’s washroom but in a back alley someplace else. She whipped around and stared at the brick wall behind her, the wall she’d just come through. It looked solid, formidable even. She placed her hands against the brick and pushed. Nothing happened. It was as unyielding as it appeared.

She glanced down at her hands and her body and noticed the same type of glimmer from before. It clung to her skin and her clothing. She ran a finger over the back of her hand—it came away damp with a glittery substance that reminded her of gelatin.

Eden turned back around to face the alley she was in. It didn’t appear to be the same one she’d come down to get into the club. She didn’t recognize it offhand, but then again, most alleys looked the same.

Filled with trepidation, she walked down the lane. Every now and then, she stopped and listened. There were sounds in the vicinity. Most were ordinary city noises—cars whizzing by, ladies in high heels clicking down the sidewalk, the bark of a dog—but there were also other sounds. Ones she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Odd noises like the clacking of something heavy, and shuffling as if someone was dragging something big behind them as they walked.

Before she even stepped out onto the main street, Eden knew she wasn’t in the city she lived in any longer.

Chapter Seven

It was the smell that alerted Eden to the danger long before she saw it lumbering down the street toward her.

A combination of musk and mothballs, the smell reminded her of wet, dirty dog. Which, by the size and shape of the creature walking toward her, might not have been such a bad description.

Eyes wide, heart pounding, Eden watched pressed up against the brick wall as a dog, upright on two feet, with a very scruffy muzzle but bright green eyes, strode on by her as if on his way to an important meeting, or date by the swagger in his back end. He glanced briefly at her as he passed and gave her a derisive sniff, then continued on as if nothing was amiss.

Eden stayed pressed against the wall for another ten minutes, trying to get her bearings. She was also struggling for breath because she swore she saw a half man-half snake slither down the center line of the road. It almost got sideswiped by a horse and buggy going the opposite way. Thankfully, the horse yelled “move it” at the last minute and the snake creature slithered off to the right.

Eden wasn’t quite sure she could handle a man-snake/horse/buggy mashup right now. She was barely hanging on to her sanity as her gaze darted everywhere at once, trying to take everything in. The street looked like any other average downtown city street at night. There was concrete beneath her feet and buildings made out of brick and cement and glass in all four directions. She read neon restaurant signs for the best Chinese food in town and pawn shop displays in windows. It could’ve easily been any street downtown.

But it clearly wasn’t.

Because Eden would’ve known if there were—what she could only guess were—Satyrs living in her city. Two of them walked past her; one of them winked.

“Hey, baby, looking for a good time?”

Scared, she just shook her head and kept her lips pressed together and her gaze glued to the sidewalk.

They moved on, chuckling at her obvious nervousness and ignorance.

Finally, after another few minutes of agonizing confusion and fear, someone took pity on Eden. That someone was a four-foot-high mottled green goblin named Durt.

“Are you lost, lady?”

“You could say that.”

“What I want to know is if you’re saying it.”

She nodded eagerly. “Yes, I’m definitely lost.”

“Come from the other side, have you?”

She nodded again.

“Well, for the right price, I could be your Threshold tour guide.” He smiled, revealing two gapped rows of razor-sharp yellow teeth.

“Threshold?”

“Yup.” He lifted his stubby arms out to the sides. “Welcome to Threshold. Where anything goes.”

“Okay?” she drew the word out, looking around trying to decide her next step. “What is this place exactly? How does it exist?”

“I don’t know, lady. Do I look like a scientist or a theologist?”

“Theologist? Are you saying this is...like hell or something?”

He snickered. “This ain’t hell. It’s better than that. It’s the world between the worlds. The place where anything and everything can exist and does.”

As if to prove his point, two female werewolves walked by, both dressed like Lolita Goths, resplendent in short plaid skirts, black knee-high socks, four-inch wedge Mary Janes and tank tops. They each sported pigtails, accented with big pink bows.

Eden looked back at Durt. “How much do you charge?”

“For you, ten even.”

“Ten dollars an hour?”

He shook his bald head. “No, not dollars. Your paper is useless here.”

“Then ten what?” Eden really had a bad sense that she shouldn’t have asked and she didn’t really want to know.

“Rats.”

“Excuse me?”

“Rats. I love them. They taste so darn good. And I can’t get them here. Well, not the eating kind anyway.”

“What kinds are here?”

“The talking kind. And they don’t ever shut up.”

“Well, I don’t seem to have any rats on me at the moment.”

He snickered again. “I know that. I’m not an idiot. I want you to get them for me when you go back. We’ll make a deal. I’ll show you around, help you navigate, and when you go back you have to get me ten dead rats and send them through to me.”

She shrugged. She figured she didn’t have much of a choice. “It’s a deal.”

Durt gobbed on the palm of his right hand and held it out to her. “To seal the deal.”

She spat on her palm and then shook his hand. It was disgusting but she tried to keep her face still—she didn’t want to insult the little creature. He seemed to sincerely want to help her, and she didn’t have any other contact in this world.

“Okay, so what’s your pleasure? Food, booze, drugs, sex, whatever it is, you can find it here.” He leaned closer to her and said behind his clawed hand, “And just so you know, I don’t judge. We all got our vices. Whatever depraved thing you want, I can direct you to it.”

“I need information.”

“Ah, now I see. You’re looking for someone.”

She nodded. “He’s big, dumb, looks like he’s been built from stone and stinks to high heaven of sulfur.”

Durt snorted. “You just described half the population. But I know of a place where you can ask questions freely without fear of being shot, stabbed, eviscerated, bitten or blown to bits.” He stared down the sidewalk. “Come on. It’s not far.”

Eden followed the little green goblin down the street, careful to avoid bumping into a man-lizard with glowing red eyes and talons walking the opposite way. Its elliptical pupils narrowed at her as she passed. Shivers rushed down her spine and she pulled her leather jacket in tighter around her body.

She had a feeling that being in this place was going to give her permanent chills.

They walked, Durt in the lead, about five blocks until they came to a desolate, dilapidated-looking building on the corner of two wide streets. Eden glanced around and noticed that it was smack in the middle of a crossroads of sorts. A screaming pink neon sign hanging over the door read
The Chained Heart.
Durt pushed open the banged-up pink door, and Eden followed him through.

Eden didn’t know what she had expected at The Chained Heart, but it definitely wasn’t what she saw. It was a tavern, an old-school medieval-type place. There were wooden tables and chairs and a long bar, all standing on a gray stone floor and leaning somewhat from excessive use. Various types of people sat at the tables drinking what she thought to be beer by the frothy tops in large pewter steins.

She would’ve thought she’d walked onto a movie set for a historical film if it wasn’t for the vampires, werewolves, Satyrs, centaurs, lizard people, one haggard-looking Cyclops and others that she couldn’t even begin to name taking up the wooden chairs and drinking the ale. It was like watching a cheesy B movie except with stellar special effects.

Durt crossed the room toward the bar. Eden followed him. Several patrons greeted the little goblin, most with pleasant “hellos” and handshakes, but there were a few steely-eyed gazes thrown his way.

When they reached the bar, Durt slammed his hand down on the counter. “What can I get you?”

Everyone seemed to be drinking the same thing, so she decided that was probably her best bet. The easiest way to blend in. “A pint.”

He nodded at the ogre-looking bartender. “Two pints, Larry.”

Larry shuffled over to the taps and pulled two frothy-looking pints. He set them down on the counter in front of Durt. He didn’t look at Eden. “Seven.”

Durt dug into his pants pocket and came away with a leather pouch. He opened it and upended seven gold pieces onto the counter. Larry took them in his beefy, hairy hand and ambled away again.

Durt handed Eden the beer. She nodded to him as she took a tentative sip. Surprisingly, it was really good. She drank some more, then set it down on the counter.

“So, where can I get that information I’m looking for?”

He eyed the other patrons over the rim of his mug. “I’ll feel them out for you. Some of them can be really surly.”

Which was punctuated by the Cyclops punching a lizard-man in the snout. Lizard-man went down, falling under his table, and the rest of the patrons went back to their drinks and conversation.

But Eden wasn’t concentrating on that. No, she was looking at the huge smoking demon walking out from where the washrooms were located. He had a cigarette in his mouth and a mug of beer in his hand. And he still wore the same clothes as before.

She marched toward him, ignoring Durt’s grunt of alarm. “Hey. I want to talk to you.”

The smoking demon glanced at her, then took up a stool at the bar, promptly giving her his expansive back. He took a healthy gulp of his drink.

Eden slid in next to him at the bar. “I said I want to talk to you.”

“I heard you,” he grunted, then blew smoke into her face. It had the stench of sulfur through it. “And I suggest you get lost, or you’re going to get hurt. I already warned you once. I don’t give second warnings.”

Durt pushed himself between Eden and the demon. “Just a mistake, Bif. Nothing to get angry about.” He nudged Eden away.

But she wasn’t going. She had questions for
Bif.
“I want to know where Lilith Grae is. I know you know, asshole.”

An uncomfortable hush settled over the bar. It was so quiet it was palpable—Eden could feel the silence on her skin. She swallowed audibly and glanced around. It was obvious she had said the wrong thing.

Durt gaped at her and was about to say something when his gaze landed on something, or someone, behind her. He immediately dropped his gaze and bowed his head.

Eden swung around. And there he was. The dark-haired man from her dreams.

“I have a private room. We can talk freely in there.” He didn’t wait for her response, but crossed the tavern floor as if he was floating. She looked around and everyone was staring at her; some were gasping. She straightened her shoulders and followed the man to the far side of the room where there was an open door.

She stepped through, and it shut of its own accord behind her. The man was standing by an intimate round table set for two. He gestured to one of the chairs. “Please sit.”

She did.

He picked up a decanter filled with what looked like red wine. “Would you like wine?”

She nodded, still unable to find her voice.

He poured her a half glass in the jewel-encrusted goblet in front of her. He then filled his own cup. After setting the decanter down, he sat and picked up his glass. He lifted it toward her.

She picked hers up and tapped glasses with him. He drank, watching her over the rim. She brought the glass to her mouth and tilted it back carefully. The second the wine hit her tongue there was an explosion of zesty flavor in her mouth. And something else. There was an explosion of images in her mind.

She, naked on the table, spread out like a buffet, and he between her thighs, feasting on her.

Gasping she shut her eyes against the carnal picture of desire.

“Are you all right?” he asked, a small, knowing smile on his face.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Although the sudden pulse of heat in her sex told her otherwise.

“Do you like the wine? It’s over four hundred years old.”

Eden clutched her glass. “It’s quite good.”

He nodded, his smile broadening. It made her thighs tense.

After another careful mouthful she set the cup down and regarded the man seated across from her. “Who are you?”