Chapter 12
“Who’s that?”Felix asks in the earpiece.
Great question. I peer intently at the location the voice came from but see no one there.
Then a man materializes in front of me.
And what a man. Tall and broad-shouldered, he’s wearing a bespoke suit that hugs his muscled body in all the right places. His face, framed by thick, silky-looking dark hair, is even more impressive. Ocean-blue eyes glint at me from beneath straight black slashes of eyebrows, and his high cheekbones appear to have been carved by a sculptor, along with his chiseled jaw and dimpled chin. Oh, and there’s a hint of stubble on that gorgeous face, as if he hadn’t shaved this morning.
It’s official. He’s hotter than Adonis, the most popular uber singer on Gomorrah. Wait—maybe he is a celeb. Something about his face does look familiar…
As I study each feature, I catch myself wanting to kiss those firm yet plush lips. Which is beyond insane. We’ve just met, and I have huge problems with touching in general, let alone touching that leads to the exchange of bacteria-laden bodily fluids.
Puck. I’m still staring at him. How long is it socially acceptable to stare at someone? Worse yet, my furry wristband has just turned an embarrassing coral pink—the color of sexual arousal.
At least this guy doesn’t know that my looft displays my emotions this way, or what each color means.
Hold on. All this time, he’s been staring at me just as intently. I’ve got to say something. Anything.
What comes out is a lame “Hi.”
A sensual smile touches those kissable lips. “Hi, Bailey.” He extends his hand. “I’m Valerian.”
On autopilot, I clasp his palm, noting with some small corner of my mind just how big and warm it is. He squeezes my hand gently, then releases it, his smile widening at my continued dumbstruck silence.
For four straight seconds, I don’t reach for the sanitizer—a record of some kind.
Then my common sense kicks in, and I get the bottle out and sterilize my hand, finally processing his introduction.
Valerian. That’s the guy who hired me for all those VR-related jobs.
Thisis what he looks like? Until now, we’d been communicating via encrypted email. If I’d known all the facts, our meetings would’ve been in person. Maybe even in some romantic, scenic locations, like the shore of that beautiful lake on—
With effort, I tamp down on the inappropriate fantasy forming in my mind and say in as even of a tone as I can manage, “Nice to meet you in person, Valerian. Are you on this Council?”
“I’m not.” The way he says it, though, makes it sound like he omitted the word yet.
I blink up at him. “Then how did you manage to get into the castle? For that matter, how were you invisible?”
“He was invisible?” Felix asks. “How—”
“Same answer to both.” Valerian’s sensual lips curve again. “As you know, I’m an illusionist. While you talked to Kain, I gave both of you the illusion of being alone in the room. Same when I came to the castle. I made it so nobody could see me. Oh, and I carry a device that turns off any cameras around me.”
My earpiece fills with grumbling. “So that’s why I can’t see anything. Let’s hope the camera comes back on when he leaves.”
Ignoring Felix, I process what Valerian has said. When Hekima did his illusionist thing, he shot those energy arcs at everyone’s heads. Apparently, that’s not the only way that power is used. The reality is much scarier: You may have no idea when an illusionist is working his mojo.
Then something very disappointing occurs to me. Given Valerian’s powers, he might not actually look like a sex god. I bet no one looks like this, and certainly not this Valerian guy.
How sad.
The weird part is that he seems equally fascinated with me, his eyes scanning my face as if he plans to draw me later. “I know this will sound like a pickup line,” he murmurs, stepping closer, “but I can’t shake the feeling that you look familiar. Have we met?”
I catch a pleasant whiff of warm male skin and pine, and my mind fills with images of sunlit forest meadows and long, lazy kisses on a picnic blanket. I swallow to combat the sudden dryness in my throat. “I don’t think so, but you look familiar to me, too. Have you ever visited Tranquility? The rehab facility on Gomorrah?” Or did you make yourself look like a celebrity? is what I don’t ask.
His hypnotic eyes gleam with amusement. “Afraid not. I keep my vices under control.”
I’m suddenly dying to know all about those vices, but I force myself to focus. “Based on the jobs you’ve given me, you’re into VR. Maybe you took some video game design classes here on Earth? Or on Gomorrah?”
“I’m self-taught.” He looks at his watch, then at the door. “We don’t have much time, so I’d like to get to the point.”
“Sure.” I conceal my irrational disappointment. “What point is that?”
All hints of amusement disappear from his face. “The last job I gave you is very important.”
Job, right. That’s why he’s talking to me. “You’re paying a lot for it, so I figured as much,” I say, matching his businesslike tone. “Unfortunately, as you can see, I’m in a bit of a predicament right now.”
He nods, his gaze somber. “If said predicament interferes with your ability to complete my job, I’d be happy to use my powers to lead you out of this castle.”
“Wow,” Felix whispers. “He can actually save you.”
“I can’t leave,” I say to them both. “The Council gave me an opportunity I can’t pass up.”
Valerian cocks his head. “What if I match whatever they offered you?”
“I doubt you can. Besides, they have my DNA, which means they can track me anywhere you take me. I don’t really want to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder for vampires.”
“I see.” He frowns, and even that expression looks good on his chiseled face. “So you’re saying you’re giving up on Bernard?”
“No, I already did the heavy lifting with Bernard. I established a dream link. When night falls, I’ll find time to slip inside his dream and finish what I started.”
The frown is instantly gone, and I decide I like his face much more without it. “Thank you,” he says. “Are you sure you don’t want to escape? I’m going to Gomorrah for a couple of days, so I won’t be reachable if you change your mind.”
“I’m sure. Oh, and there is a way I can reach you, even on another world.” I try to make my next question sound as casual as possible. “How do you feel about taking a nap right now?”
He grins, flashing even white teeth. “Nice try, but I don’t think I’m ready to let you loose inside my subconscious. We’ve only just met.”
I do my best to ignore the butterflies filling my stomach. “Your call. It could’ve been fun to be in a dream together.” Especially for me. I almost lick my lips at the thought.
“Are you coming on to this guy?” Felix hisses.
Crap, I totally forgot we have a third wheel.
Valerian’s grin turns wicked. “We don’t need your powers to have fun,” he says in a voice like heated molasses as the room around us shimmers and becomes a lush bedroom with an enormous bed swathed in silk sheets and scattered with rose petals.
My pulse spikes as the butterflies start a gunfight in my belly. Is this really happening? Am I about to—
“Alas, we can’t today,” Valerian says, and to my huge disappointment, both the bed and his gorgeous self disappear.
“Wait!” I look around the empty room. “Why do you even need me? For the Bernard job, I mean? As you just demonstrated, your powers are very similar to mine.”
His disembodied voice comes from near the doorframe. “I’m under the Mandate. That heavily limits what I can and can’t do with humans. Besides, your way is going to be much better. Dream inspiration is a classic, after all.”
“Uh-huh. Are you sure you don’t just want someone else to take the risk?”
He doesn’t reply. Must’ve already left.
I sigh, feeling strangely deflated. The idea of “having fun” with Valerian was more than a little appealing, and not just because we’d be able to do it via his powers of illusion or my ability to dreamwalk—and therefore without any exchange of bodily fluids. No, it’s him. Something about the guy almost makes me forget the dangers of viruses and bacteria.
Speaking of which—I slather my hands again with sanitizer. What’s wrong with me? I talk to a hot guy for two minutes, and I’m ready to risk syphilis? He might not even look the way he appeared to me.
Must be my lack of a sex life catching up with me. I have a complex relationship with my libido. In other people’s dreams, I’ve experienced thousands of orgasmic encounters, both from their memories and their fantasies. In my own dreams, too, I’ve done whatever I wanted with anyone who took my fancy. Sometimes with many of them at once. In the waking world, however, I’ve never actually been intimate with anyone.
Despite an entire harem of partners in the dream world, I’m a twenty-six-year-old virgin who’s never even kissed a guy.
Hey, that gives me a crazy idea. What if the Brotherhood monks were behind my being snatched by the Enforcers? Maybe whatever deity they worship needs a virgin sacrifice.
Nah. Too convoluted a plan for something like that.
Felix crackles in my ear. “The camera just started working again.”
Before I can so much as reply with a thumbs-up, Kain strides back into the room with a thick folder in his hand. “Let’s go to your quarters so we can review all this.” He waves the folder and turns on his heel.
I have quarters?
I follow, panting to keep up—though for a vampire, he’s practically crawling.
We hustle across half the castle to what at one point must’ve been the dungeon where prisoners were kept before being tortured or worse.
“How dreary,” Felix mutters.
That’s putting it mildly.
Kain leads me down a corridor that even the rats must find too depressing to frequent. The place smells faintly like fermented sewage, and I have to fight my gag reflex. With a determined expression on his face, Kain makes a sharp right and stops next to a large cell with an iron ring welded to the wall—always a nice little touch. He makes a gentlemanly gesture, ushering me inside.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter as I step in.
These are my quarters? Instead of a solid door, there are iron bars, exactly like in a prison cell, and there isn’t even a modern toilet. There’s just a hole in the floor with murky muck a few feet down, which looks suspiciously like the liquid that was slushing in the moat around the castle. Major eww.
The only thing that makes this place feel like anything other than a prison cell is a new bed, table, and chair. And the fact that the door isn’t locked with the rusty padlock that’s hanging on the outside. Instead, it actually has a bolt on the inside.
Hekima appears in the corridor behind Kain and peers through the bars disapprovingly. “Are these the best accommodations we can provide? Bailey is our guest, after all.”
Kain sets the folder on the table. “You may have a point. This is where we were going to put her if she was found guilty, but she wasn’t. I’ll see if we can scrounge up something better.”
“Please do,” Hekima says. “Meanwhile, do you mind if I change the scenery?”
Kain and I shrug.
Hekima shoots his showy arc of energy at our heads, and the cell becomes a fresh-smelling, sunlit meeting room. Only the furniture looks the same.
“Right, then.” Kain opens the folder. “Let’s get to the murders.”