Eve of Darkness Page 17


Miyoko paused in the act of scooping up vegetables. She frowned. Alec rested his hip against the counter and smiled.


“I need a shower.” Eve set her empty glass on the counter.


“Don’t leave that there,” her mother scolded.


“It’s my house, Mom.” But she picked up the cup and carried it to the sink.


“Can I help with anything?” Alec asked as Eve left the room.


“Would you mind cutting the onions?” Miyoko asked. “They make me cry.”


As she traversed the length of the hallway, Eve forced herself to shake off the feeling of being invaded. Her mother had obviously been in her house for a while. The washing machine was running and the air smelled like floor cleaner, which made her wonder how long Alec had been out looking for her.


You’re lucky you’re not dead, he’d said when she finished telling him about the Nix.


She couldn’t imagine living a life where a walk on the beach was a death wish waiting to be fulfilled. Even church wasn’t sacred. Nothing was safe. A shiver moved through her.


After a very hot, very long shower, Eve felt slightly better. She pulled on a merlot velour jogging suit and left her hair down to dry naturally. When she exited to the hallway, she ran into Alec as he was stepping out of the guest bedroom. He had changed into a button-down shirt and loose slacks. He looked respectable and edible. She stared.


The corner of his mouth lifted. “I have many sides that you haven’t yet seen, angel.”


“Not my fault.”


“No.” He stepped closer. “It isn’t.”


The scent of his skin intoxicated her. “I’m becoming a nymphomanic.”


“I’m available.”


“For how long?” she challenged. “I keep wondering when I’m going to look around and find you gone.”


“I’ll be with you until we find a way to free you.”


“So you’re temporary.”


“Do you want permanent?” His gaze was hot.


Eve debated that question for a long moment, then offered a weak shrug. She didn’t know what the hell she wanted. A week ago she would have said a successful career, a loving husband, two kids, and a dog. Normal. Comfortable.


“My mom is planning on staying the night,” she said instead.


He nodded, but his intensity didn’t diminish. “I noticed. I offered to find a hotel, but she absolutely refused the guest room. She says the futon in your office is fine.”


Eve sighed. “She doesn’t like sleeping in a big bed without my dad. She doesn’t even pull out the futon, she sleeps on it like a couch.”


“A wife after my own heart.”


“I can’t see you ever getting married.”


“Just because it didn’t work the first time, doesn’t mean it won’t ever work.”


She stilled.


“I told you,” he murmured, watching her with heavylidded eyes. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”


“I never got the chance to learn.”


“You have one now.”


Eve leaned back against the wall. Alec moved in, stepping closer and caging her with one hand beside her head. Memories of their recent night together flooded her mind. The desperate consuming lust. The gnawing hunger. The skill and passion with which he slaked both.


With only centimeters between them, she could feel the heat of his skin and if she listened with her new hearing, she could make out the steadily increasing beat of his heart.


“Your heart is starting to race,” she whispered.


“Because I’m with you. Sex is one of the rare times when we’re capable of experiencing the full force of our physical responses.”


“We’re not having sex.”


“In my head we are.”


Eve’s lower lip quivered. It would be so easy to turn to him for comfort and support, but that was what had landed her in trouble in the first place. And when she managed to shed the mark, he would leave along with it.


That didn’t stop her from wanting him. Badly.


Her stomach growled, breaking the moment.


“I cannot believe I’m hungry already,” she whispered, grateful for the intrusion, however embarrassing. “Those taco plates usually fill me up all day.”


“Your body is going through some pretty drastic changes. It requires fuel to manage it all.”


“Will my system revert when I’m . . . free?”


Alec sighed, his breath flowing across her lips like a feather light kiss. “I don’t know, angel. I’ve never met a former Mark.”


“Really?” She bit her lower lip.


“Really.” He pressed his temple to hers. She could sense his sexual hunger in the underlying tension of his powerful frame.


“I’ll find a way,” she promised, as much to herself as to him.


“I’ll help you.”


The doorbell rang, and they broke apart. She looked away first.


“What about the gargoyle?” she asked, as they moved into the living room.


“We’ll catch up with him tomorrow.” Alec noted her questioning glance and explained, “He can’t go far. Tengu draw their energy from the inhabitants of the building they decorate. They stir feelings of anxiety and unhappiness, and feed off of them. Straying too far is like starving.”


“That’s fascinating.”


“All Infernals have their preferences and vulnerabilities. The Nix have to stay near water, as do kappas. Trolls live near woods. When you start your classes, you’ll learn the vagaries of each branch. Knowledge is power. Exploiting a weakness can save your life.”


Eve reached for the doorknob. “How many branches are there?”


“A few hundred. But each has subdivisions that can number into the thousands.”


“Oh my G—” She caught herself.


“Watch it.”


She growled. “I’m trying.”


Pulling open the door, Eve felt her mood improving when she found Mrs. Basso on her doorstep. Tonight her neighbor wore olive slacks with a matching sweater vest and emerald necklace. A loose white blouse kept the ensemble feminine and casual.


Eve hugged her.


“You look gorgeous,” Mrs. Basso said.


“So do you,” she returned. Then she introduced her to Alec.


Mrs. Basso held a brown paper bag and a bottle of Chianti in her hands. Eve offered to take both from her, but she declined with a curious blush staining her cheeks.


“Evie-san!” her mother called out. “Can you set the table?”


“Yes, Mom.” She looked at Alec. “The remote is on the coffee table, if you two would like to watch TV.”


As she moved to the kitchen, Eve heard the low drone of subdued voices behind her. She strained to hear, curious about Alec and the way he interacted with others. He was right. She didn’t know anything about him beyond the combustible attraction her body felt for his. Maybe she should learn, if only in the hopes of discovering something that would turn her off enough to get over him.


As she opened the cupboard that held her plates and withdrew four, the voices in the living room grew in volume. Not because Alec and Mrs. Basso were moving closer or talking louder, but because Eve’s hearing was sharpening. Every noise seemed suddenly amplified, as if her ears had an adjustable volume knob and someone had cranked it higher.


“I brought this for you, Mr. Cain,” Mrs. Basso said.


Eve heard the paper bag exchange hands.


“Thank you.” The surprise in Alec’s voice made her smile.


“It was one of my late husband’s favorite recipes. I included some of the spices that are sometimes harder to find.”


Leaning around the support post, Eve craned her neck to get a look. They stood in the living room, the recessed lights bathing both of them in a white glow. Alec stood a foot taller than Mrs. Basso, giving the impression of a man speaking to a child. He was looking into the bag, and the perplexed frown on his face intrigued her.


“Add a cup of the Chianti to the sauce just before serving,” Mrs. Basso said, “then enjoy the rest by the glass. You’ll find the meal creates a mellow, luxurious mood.”


“Mellow mood?”


Eve set the plates down quickly, fighting a building surge of humor.


Mrs. Basso cleared her throat. “Evangeline is so like me in some ways.” Her face flamed with color. “We can appear tougher than we are. I think a quiet, romantic evening with good food will please her greatly.”


Alec’s head turned to find Eve and she faced forward swiftly, moving toward the silverware drawer in feigned ignorance of his conversation. She felt Alec’s gaze on her back and bit her lip. Listening to Mrs. Basso give seduction pointers to Alec was priceless.


“Don’t forget the forks,” her mother chastised, pouring the curry from the pot into a serving dish. “Even when you plan on using only spoons, you should still set out forks.”


“Hush, Mom,” Eve said, waving her hand in an impatient gesture.


“Why are you whispering?”


“Uh . . .” Alec coughed.


“I worry about Evangeline.” Mrs. Basso’s voice strengthened. “A young, beautiful woman living alone. It’s never been completely safe, but these days . . . These are rough times.”


“You’re right about that,” Alec agreed grimly.


“She’s such a lovely girl, inside and out. I would like to see her find someone special and this afternoon when you left . . . Well, she looked a bit lost. I think there’s something there.”


“Mrs. Basso—”


“I hope things work out between you, that’s all. I won’t embarrass you anymore. I feel like a meddling old woman as it is.”


Eve caught the edge of the drawer and blinked back tears, deeply touched. It was then that she saw the large, clear glass bowl on the counter filled with water and a single, beautiful white water lily.


Her mother was an amateur horticulturist with an impressive green thumb. She often brought over plants and flowers from her garden. But she’d never brought over anything like this.