Page 4 of Twilight Mask

“Next time, let me go further.”

He tilts his head. “You think there will be a next time?”

“If you can figure out who I am, I’ll see you again.”

His big arms cross over his strong chest. “Give me your first name.”

“That’ll make it too easy.”

“Give me something then.”

I hesitate, racking my brain. This is dumb, but—“I’m the artist,” I tell him, which should be safe, since only a minuscule handful of people know that’s my art down there. “It was fun, Jackal.”

I swear, he’s grinning at me, and I hope that he’s frustrated. This was stupid—beyond stupid—and I’m starting to crash back to reality.

“It was very fun, little demon.”

I shove the door open and hurry back downstairs.

I’m trembling as I descend. I shouldn’t have done that. Letting some total stranger hold me while I dangled over a steep drop was absolutely crazy. But the way his fingers brushed my skin, his hands gripped my hips, and his eyes, and, god?—

I have to pause to catch my breath.

Get it together, Laura.

The party’s still going hard. I find my sister, Elena, and let her know that I’m ready to go. She seems disappointed, but she drapes her arm across my shoulders and steers me toward the exit without making a fuss. “I’m proud of you,” she says. “Coming out like this. I know it expands your boundaries, but this is good.” She pushes her cat mask up and grins at me. “Maybe next time, we’ll skip the costumes.”

“Doubt it,” I tell her.

Chapter 2

Marco

The dull light of four computer monitors makes my dark home office glow a muted gray. My eyes hurt from staring at the screens all day, but this job is almost over. I rub my face and glance to the side where the jackal mask is resting on top of a vintage stereo speaker, and I think about the demon girl with the ram horns and that gorgeous black dress.

I don’t know why I told her about the game. I hadn’t thought of it in years, but when I was up on that roof, it all came rushing back. And when she said she wanted to play—I honestly thought she was fucking with me.

Then my hands were on her hips and her life was all mine, and it was the most exhilarating moment of my life to this point. Which is saying something.

It helped that the girl was smoking hot. Her tight dress gave me a full view of her gorgeous body. She was small, but muscular, clearly very athletic, with a ribbed stomach and long, lean, toned legs. Except there was still a softness to her, in her ass and her breasts and her hips, and when her hemline yanked up as she shimmied out over empty air, showing more thigh, giving me a glimpse of her black lacy panties?—

I nearly lost my fucking mind, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her for days.

“Focus, you prick,” I mutter to myself and get back to typing. Lines of code scroll past as I start to execute my programs. I check the time: it’s ten past midnight, and unless I fucked this up already, the security system at the Cowpath Lumber Yard should be completely neutralized in a few seconds.

There’s a knock at my door. I glance over my shoulder as Valentina pokes her head in. “God, it smells like feet in here.” She makes a gross face. Her little nose tips up and her big, brown eyes are clearly laughing at my expense.

“Why are you still here again?”

“Because I’m your assistant and you haven’t dismissed me yet.”

“More like you fell asleep on my couch watching Real Housewives again. I’m not paying you overtime.”

“Okay, whatever, but I really am going home. Need anything else?”

I look at my screens. The program is finished running. I type some quick commands and a bunch of diagnostic information appears in my console. “No, I’m good,” I tell her as I confirm everything went well.

“Goodnight then.” She shuts the door and heads out. I need to have a talk with her about staying over too late, but I never manage to bring it up. I’ve known Valentina Santoro for most of my life and she’s like a sister to me. She’s been through some bad shit in the last few years. I don’t really need an assistant, but she needs a job and some purpose, and I guess I’ve always taken care of her like this.

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