Page 40 of Dusk Macabre

Other notable advantages were easier travel between Realms—including those where vampires were not welcome, such as the First, and greater speed in general. There were likely many more, but I hadn’t wanted to leave the stone out of its pouch for it for too long. Magical items sent signals through the ether, even when cloaked though they were harder to detect under those conditions.

Now that I could no longer carry it on my person, I wasn’t sure what to do with it. It was too much of a risk to continue keeping it in my pocket. The thought of grinding it to powder and ingesting it had occurred to me, but there was no way to know what effects it would have on my body.

Returning to my office, I sat in my chair and checked all the feeds. After I located the Fae’s vehicle outside a private residence in midtown, my mind settled. Brittney was there, even though I still couldn’t pick up her signature. The knowledge was in the depths of my soul, and my pulse returned to reasonable levels.

With some financial incentives, I expedited the delivery of the magical steel I was waiting for. It didn’t take me long to fashion a small safe for the diamond, or to place extensive wards around the box.

Whoever touched it other than me would die instantly, dissolving in a puddle of liquid. The liquid would take care of itself, draining away in the cracks and crevices of the floor. My house was messy enough without adding extra work.

The next thing I needed to do was fashion the cell. My bedroom was the perfect place for multiple reasons. One, it was cozy, and two, it was suggestive.

The finished product was a six-foot square cube, the perfect size to feel confined. Dimensions generous enough to give the illusion of some freedom, just to encounter a barrier. Grinning, I placed a small, cushioned cot inside with a pillow. While she was tied to the bars, she would long for its comfort.

I’d been loath to lose a single strand of the hair I’d plucked from her scalp but sacrificing one had been necessary. By burning the piece and infusing the smoke into the metal, she wouldn’t be able to refuse the call to enter her new cage. It would feel like her. It would feel right.

It was hard to contain my excitement as I laid down on my bed. Soon, Brittney would be here, spending her nights in a prison cell fashioned just for her.

Subject to my mercy—all night long.

My fingers curled in on themselves as I remembered the feeling of her skin, her luscious softness. My nails dug into my palms when I thought of her possible—no, probable, motives for coming near me in the first place.

No matter what, I always win.

* * *

My steps fell lightly over the gleaming hardwood while I listened for movement or conversation. Every lamp, every candlestick, every fixture overhead burned in a bonanza of fire and electricity. It seemed the Fae had a thing for illumination. Or at least, Adrian and Leander did.

Hopefully, my retinas would recover.

Blinking furiously, I moved forward a couple of feet. Wood creaked in the distance, and a door shut somewhere beyond. A breeze whistled through an open window somewhere on my left, and I took a deep breath, tension dissipating from my bones. I hadn’t tripped any magical alarms.

If the Fae were smarter, they would have known the instant I entered their rented home. They hadn’t even noticed the car that dropped me off. As it was, I was still wiping away the sensation of delicate spiderwebs from my face, remnants of the spells and wards they’d hastily cast. Undecided if they were arrogant or merely moronic, I ascended the right-hand side of the wide, dual staircase.

Pretentious, I settled on. The men must be royalty of some sort. That made sense, given the nature of their mission and its delicacy. I couldn’t imagine the theft of their most precious mineral was the sort of thing they took lightly in any sense of the word.

The misplaced confidence and entitlement worked in my favor, and I arrived on the second floor without incident.

Opening every door was a risk I couldn’t take, and instead, I paused outside each one, evaluating the sounds and energy that lay behind each one. By the tenth, I stopped. It was the muttering and the “fucking fairy-asses" I heard that did it.

My chest shook with laughter as I let myself in.

Brittney had her back to me while she ran her fingers along the window frame, clutching, pulling, testing. Her glorious hair spilled over the hood of her sweater, swinging side to side as she moved and riding up over her curved ass. I had to blink away a vision of pounding into her against the windowsill.

Not once did she turn around as I made my way to her, making note of the change of clothing laid out over an armchair, and the gilded tray of fruit and meats set on a low table. Were they attempting to recruit her? The clothing was meticulously crafted, an elegant gown of silk and crystals. The food was extraordinary as well, ripe, firm fruit and well-seasoned proteins.

I wanted to feed the ripe, firm woman with her back turned my own proteins and I grasped myself, forcing the organ into submission.

She struggled some more with the window and then clutched the curtain, tugging it in a little fit while I waited for her to notice me in the reflection.

While I stared, she dropped her arms to her sides and then she raised them again, clutching her cheeks and pressing her face with her fingers. I moved closer, looming over her like a bad dream. It was my shadow that did it.

“What the fuck?” She spun around, throwing her fist. I caught it. “You,” she ground out. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Giving her a small smile, I replied, “We have business to discuss.”

“No, we don’t,” she retorted. “Go fuck yourself.”

I snickered. “So hostile.”