Page 54 of Stalk the Dark
Merry frowned. “His breath smelled like berry blossom?”
We all looked across at her in confusion. “Huh?”
“The bottom hole…” She tilted her head, matching our confusion. “It smells like berry blossom…”
“Of course half-blood fae asses smell like flowers,” Padma drawled.
“What?” Merry followed us back into the offices. “What do you mean? What do human bottom holes smell like?”
“Shit,” Edwin said. “They smell like shit.”
“Popcorn?” Merry asked.
Oh boy…
Merry broughtin another box and set it on her desk across from me. Now that the issue of how human bottoms differed in scent to fae bottoms had been resolved, we worked in companionable silence, sifting through files and adding the details to the computerized database that Edwin had hooked up yesterday.
Edwin brought in coffee from a place down the road, some tasteless weak crap that left a residue of yuck on my tongue, and the next hour and a half passed quickly and uneventfully. I managed to add three files to our new system, none related to the teapot, before it was time to leave.
We piled into reception, tugging on jackets when the bell above the main doors tinkled and several sets of boots clomped across the checked floor.
Padma tensed beside me, and Edwin stepped forward, hand on the hilt of his blade. No one had come through the main doors since we’d taken over. Even Gunther had used the basement access.
Atlas and two other men entered reception a moment later, but a closer inspection told me the other two men weren’t human. The taller of the three drew my attention, not because of his height, or because of how his impeccably tailored suit fit his athletic frame, or the way the black turtleneck was the perfect pairing for it, and not because of the silver ribbon that ran through his ebony hair, but because of the aura he gave off…one I’d felt only once before with Ezekiel—raw power. This guy was a predator caged in designer wear. His rich sable eyes took us all in. Assessing. Calculating.
Atlas cleared his throat. “Miss Lighthart, meet Kaster Black.”
The suited dude inclined his head. Of course, it was him. The head fangster.
It made sense to be on good terms with the head of one of the largest Sangualex departments, so I composed my face into an expression of polite inquiry. “What can we do for you, Mr. Black?”
He looked me over like a butcher would look over aprime cut of meat deciding on which way best to carve it. I suppressed a shudder, waiting for him to answer.
Atlas answered for him. “We have a situation, and we need your assistance.”
“Oh?”
“One of our officers has been taken hostage by a ghoul in Lakeview Cemetery. We need you to retrieve him.”
A fetch a bone job? Is this what they thought we were for? Of course they did. But fuck that. “We don’t work for you. Go fetch your own operative.”
Kaster slow-blinked, seemingly unfazed by my words and tone, but Atlas winced, and when he next spoke, his tone was clipped with urgency.
“Mr. Black wouldn’t be here if this wasn’t of the upmost importance.”
I didn’t like this. The way Atlas was being used as a mouthpiece. “If Mr. Black wants our help, how about he asks us himself?”
I crossed the room toward the trio. Atlas and the other guy made to step forward to block me, but Kaster raised a hand, and they stopped.
I stood in front of Kaster, looking up at his imposing features. “Well?”
His gaze flicked to Atlas, who nodded, and Kaster reached out and touched his temple. Atlas’s irises went white, and when he spoke, the voice that emerged was not his.
“Hello, Miss Lighthart. My name is Kaster Black.” The voice was smooth like bourbon on the rocks and equally as heady. “As I’m sure you’re aware, I’m head of operations at Sangualex Sector 9. One of my officers has been taken hostage by a ghoul, and I require your assistance in his retrieval.”
Okay, this was freaky as fuck, but like hell would I bat an eyelid. “Why can’t your other officers go get him?”
“An uncommonly known fact, and one which I would prefer stay that way, is that a ghoul bite can prove fatal to most vampires.”
