3

MERIEL stretched her legs out the open car door, unfolding her body to stand beside the shiny curves of steel. Part of the reason people stared was the car, and she totally got that. Normally, Meriel drove an Audi. Low slung, sporty and temperamental. Sort of like she was on a good day. Heh.

Still, maybe a little bit of Nell’s sexy-momma mojo would rub off on her.

The valet tried to look sullen and bored as he approached with an outstretched hand. A valet at an industrial nightclub? What was the world coming to?

Sullen and on the verge of tears seemed to be similar looks for this boy. No way was he more than a hair this side of nineteen. His skinny jeans only emphasised just how thin his legs were. It must have been a serious workout for him to move in those big boots he had on. Couldn’t have been more than a hundred pounds soaking wet. Probably why his guyliner was running. Or maybe that was on purpose. Whatever, she didn’t really care. Emo boys were not her cup of tea anyway. As long as he didn’t scratch the car, he was free to weep and write bad poetry all day long.

She dropped her keys into his palm and raised one eyebrow. Might as well put on a show all the way and throw a little Edwina in there. “Do be careful, won’t you?” She added a touch of magick to be sure he was.

He nodded, Adam’s apple sliding up and down as her magick tickled his skin and permeated his brain. She briefly toyed with also telling him to eat a sandwich, but let that go.

“Tell me”—she paused, looking at his name tag—”Spider. Very goth, by the way, Spider.” She tried very hard not to snicker. “Is Mr. Bright in this evening?”

“Should be.” Spider tried to look tough, but she could use him to pick spinach from her teeth with one hand so the effect was lost on her.

She nodded, taking her tag and sauntering past the line and through the doors. The bouncer took one look, a smile settled over his features and he stepped back, letting her pass.

Once inside, the scent caught her attention. Mmmm. Humanity. Sex, lust, greed, anger. Beautiful. The hard-edged beat vibrated off her skin as she prowled through the crowd. In every flash, flash, flash of the strobe lights bodies moved, arms up in the air.

Magick drifted through the large room, drawing her to its source. It wasn’t hard to find the go-between, the place normals wouldn’t see but Others would be drawn to, and through, into their own private club.

Heart of Darkness—not a bad name for a club, really. One of her favourite books too. Too bad Gage wasn’t here. The women would have been falling over themselves to get to him. Her mother would also have a cow when she heard Meriel had disobeyed her orders and had come out unescorted, but for goodness’ sake, it wasn’t that dangerous to talk to a thief in public. And hello, she wasn’t fifteen. It had been a long time since Meriel had looked to a mother to do any taking care of her. And last, it amused her to visualise her mother having a cow.

Despite her amusement and admittedly, no small amount of admiration for how much talent it took to set this place up, Heart of Darkness had the potential to be dangerous for them all. Dominic Bright took risks he had no right to. Not on Owen ground and certainly not with Owen font magick.

Though the Weres had been out for a decade and the vampires discussed it endlessly, witches were far less enamoured of the idea.

They’d been there and done that and many of them hadn’t survived. In fact every time humans focused on them it involved hanging or drowning or being burned alive so they were obsessive about keeping what they did quiet. Pagans and Wiccans already got enough hatred; if humans knew there were witches like Meriel, well, she didn’t like thinking about it overlong.

This place was a risk of exposure on top of the fact that one simply didn’t just steal from Clan Owen and not face consequences. Clan witches loved rules. Rule breaking was frowned upon because risks were dangerous.

Mr. Bright needed to be taught that it was the height of offence to a clan to come in this way. Some of them would have sent enforcers in and he’d never have been heard from again. Lucky for him, Meriel thought that a big show of aggression would be an overreaction. At least until she learned more.

And then, if he needed to be disappeared, Nell would make it happen. The weak got preyed upon and Clan Owen wasn’t weak.

Already she knew he had some sense. The closer she got to the go-between door, the more the repulsion spell increased in intensity. The entrance looked like a back door and the presence of two large bouncers looking like bartenders would stop interlopers.

The nature of the club would tend to have their kind blend in, although she didn’t know a single vampire who actually looked like the ones she saw in movies. Still, she’d have to talk to Bright about it.

Ignoring the stares and touches from men and women alike as she passed through the crowd, she moved with single-minded purpose towards the warded entrance.

The bouncers didn’t bother removing their sunglasses. They wouldn’t need to. Even with shades on, they’d see the magick crackle over her skin with their othersight. With the patented bodyguard nod, they stepped aside and let her pass.

The sound dampened and the energy changed as magick of all sorts sparked against hers. The wards recognised her and she passed through the human part of the club and into the domain where her people walked. She recognised the flavour of the magick as Owen font magick. This was their power being used to hide that doorway. Oh, that naughty man. Against her better judgement and a lifetime of training, instead of apprehension, a glimmer of excitement slid through her. A challenge.

BY contrast to the press of humans out front, this part of Heart of Darkness wasn’t such a crush. The pulsing lights and dark ambiance outside had been abandoned. Within this world created just for them, it was more like a restaurant/ pub than a dance club, though there was a dance floor too. She imagined later tonight and on the weekends it would probably be busier and noisier. Magick of all sorts danced through the air. Were, vampire, witch—even a bit of Fae. Bright might be breaking the law by stealing magick, but she couldn’t deny the place had appeal.

Moving through the crowd, Meriel realised the dark interior and the light effects would hamper her ability to sight Dominic Bright easily. Still, the club was filled with pretty, shiny men and women from all sorts of backgrounds so a bit of people watching would add to the fun. This was far more interesting than take-out and a movie.

She may as well head to the bar and grab a drink as she looked around. Meriel didn’t need a picture to know who Dominic Bright was. She’d recognise his magickal signature if he was there. She just needed to be patient and look around.

“Hello there, witch.”

Meriel looked up into the face of a very handsome Were. His looks matched the low bass of the voice, masculine, hard. Not a run-of-the-mill shifter, this one smelled of Lycia. Royalty even. Lycian pack royalty on this side of the Veil was an unusual sight. They liked to keep to their own realm instead of having to deal with humanity and all her complications.

“Hello there, Lycian.”

He laughed, showing straight, white teeth, as he leaned against the bar behind him and held out a hand. She reined in the urge to goggle at how big the aforementioned hand was. “Simon Leviathan. Can I buy you a drink?”

Oh sure, she knew she was there to find Dominic Bright, but no one said she couldn’t enjoy the attentions of a very handsome Were while she looked.

The warmth of his power rolled through her as she took his outstretched hand. He held on just a bit longer than simple courtesy dictated, letting the warmth of his energy roll over her playfully. The possibilities with this man could bear some thinking on. She let him have the smile she’d been holding back. “Pleasure to meet you, Simon Leviathan. I’d love a drink, thank you. I’m Meriel Owen.”

Meriel leaned around him and told the bartender she wanted a Jack and Coke. When she straightened, Simon’s hand found its way to her waist. Lycians were very to the point.

Recognition lit his eyes. “Ah, an Owen. What brings you here this evening, Meriel?”

His scent, rich and spicy, tickled her senses and tightened things low in her belly. Alpha males were a double-edged option. Who didn’t like a man who was self-assured? But she didn’t think she had the time to manage one.

“Just looking around.” Tool came on and she let the sound roll over her as she opened her magick, letting it float up and out over the crowd, seeking. Dominic Bright would be a very powerful witch to work those spells on the door. Merely the stolen energy from the font wouldn’t be enough. The magick that had to be melded together and woven into that sort of protection and deception was complicated. Only a very talented and powerful witch could manage it. It wasn’t just the amount used or borrowed, it was the ability to use it and build it into other things. In any case, the odds of that meant there would be very few with that kind of power in the room. Namely Meriel and Dominic.

“Holy shit, what is that?” He leaned in, taking a deep breath. “I like your magick, witch.” Simon leaned down to murmur in her ear. “Then again, you’re not any old witch are you, Red?”

“I’m not any old anything at all, Simon. Just like you’re not any old werewolf. You’re Lycian and your daddy is alpha of a pack back home. You’re marked.”

She paid attention to all that supercharged alpha male energy while keeping her seeking spell anchored. It wasn’t hard when she was surrounded by so much raw energy. All that sex in the air, all the Others in the room and the magick they bled off as they went about their evening fed her way more than enough. So much she was a bit giddy with it.

“Don’t run into too many people who’d know that.”

“I like to know things. I’m a curious woman.” Another thing she thought Owen should be doing better was reaching out to all groups of Others. Those Others who originated from the other side of the Veil—the Fae and Lycians—were far more powerful than those paranormals from Earth. They could move back and forth into other dimensions and their magick was unique.

Just how much Meriel didn’t know because they were just as secretive as witches and there wasn’t a lot of information sharing. She wanted that to change and if it came all wrapped up in this attractive a package, well, that was icing.

“I like a curious woman. Now, other than a drink, I think there might be a few other things I’d be happy to give you.” The smile he gave her promised all sorts of tingly things.

Before Meriel could respond, there was a definite tug at the end of her spell. She turned and saw the smudge in the energy of the magick. It’d snagged over at a booth on the far side of the room. There he was.

Sadly, she turned back to face Simon. “I’m sorry to have to do this, but the person I’ve been looking for is here, just when I’d begun to hope he wasn’t. I need to go deal with a problem.”

His face changed a bit as he looked in the direction her attention had been. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll be here for another hour or so if you wrap up your problem. I come most nights. Or, I’m at the W if you find yourself in need of some company.”

She smiled, taking a long look from the top of his dark-hued hair to the tips of his expensive boots. Long and lean, broad in the right places. He sure was pretty to look at.

“Thanks for the drink. Maybe I’ll be seeing you around.” She touched a fingertip to her lips and took one last look.

He pushed a hand through his hair. Such a bad boy there. She winked and turned, swaying towards the tug on her spell.

The crowd moved aside as she walked, her magick brushing against them, tendrils of their energy drawing back into her, strengthening her as she took a taste of all that paranormal strength in the room. Heady stuff.