The Mark (Interracial Paranormal Romance) (Toil and Trouble) (12 page)

"Why did I agree to come to the mall with you again?" I said to Sia, massaging my temple.

"Because otherwise you'd be cooped up in your apartment, drowning yourself in Ramen and cheap wine," she answered, tossing her ponytail to the side. "You need some retail therapy."

I grimaced as two kids plowed past, knocking me into Sia. "What I need is a stiff drink. And to draw up my last will and testament."

"Nonsense," she said, dragging me inside of Macy's. "We need to get you a hot dress and some killer heels."

I stopped short. "You didn't say anything about shopping for me. I don't have the money to buy new stuff!"

"Please," she said with a wink. "I can smell the money on you." She stopped at an earring carousel, eyeballing a pair of gold hoops.

"The 5k is to cover expenses until my Trial." Not that I hadn't considered booking a one way trip somewhere off the grid. It would have been a waste though. As soon as I became a legit necromancer I was tagged. Leashed. No matter where I went, the Watchers could find me. It didn't change my innate need for flight. "I need to be careful with my money. No frivolous spending."

"Right," Sia said, holding the earrings next to her lobe . "Let's be honest, 5k won't do you a lot of good in the All."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I said, shaking my head.

"Just being realistic," she said in a sing song voice. She picked up a long gold chain and wrapped it around her neck. She turned to me, giving me a model pout. "Too much?"

I gaped at her in disbelief. "You know, a good friend would be slightly more concerned about my impending doom."

She glanced at me in the mirror, her eyes filled with guilt. "I'm sorry, Jade. I'm happy-go-lucky by nature. My kind celebrates death and despair after all." she shrugged.

I eyed her with slight amusement, her petite arm propped on her tiny waist. Here I was, staring at a future that suddenly didn't look so bright because two of my necromancy clients popped up dead. Instead of doing something proactive, I was in some mall with a fairy, that by nature, delighted in my misery.

Normal 21 year olds stressed about studying and showing up to class hung over. I was stressing about a Trial at the hands of the oldest supernatural beings ever known to otherworld creatures.

"Yeah," I said, swallowing the laughter. "The whole thing. B contacts me two years ago and tells me that I can be a part of something bigger than myself. Helping 'grieving relatives find peace' he said."

Sia gave me a look. "And you believed him?"

"Of course not," I scoffed. "But I was eighteen. My grades were shit, so the college thing wasn't happening. Then my spellwork started going haywire. It was pretty much enlist or hole up somewhere. Like Mom."

I pushed a shoe display to the side and plopped down. "Working for NACA has showed me the worst in human nature-liars, cheats, murderers, greed. But Kenny was the first time that I actually tried to help someone. Then Amy. And now they're dead."

"Because of you," Sia said quietly. She glanced over at me and made an addendum. "Seemingly because of you."

I twirled a strand of hair around my finger, swallowing the knot in my throat. "I just...I don't want to go down when I didn't do anything, you know? I finally grow the balls to follow my heart and it leads to the Watchers doorstep." I massaged my temple, a little voice in the back of my head saying I would have been better off going off the reservation. "It's just not fair."

Her pearly whites gleamed. "You had me at ‘cream’." She headed toward the exit, and then stopped short, remembering the chain around her neck. "What do you think?"

"I like it," I said, glancing around. "I think there's a register-"

"Let's go," she said hopping from foot to foot anxiously, outside the store. "That ice cream isn't going to eat itself."

She'd blinked out of the store-leaving the security button on top of the glass case. I scurried after her, not wanting to be fingered for her kleptomania.

"So I was thinking something chocolatey," she said, looping her arm into mine.

"Chocolate sounds heavenly," I grinned. It was my first genuine smile all day.

Chapter Fifteen

The More the Merrier

Jack's Mustang made an unhealthy sigh as we pulled into the art museum parking lot.

"You're sure about this?" he said, shutting off the engine.

"Sure," I said unconvincingly. I felt hecka more sure about 15 minutes ago while Jack was explaining the plan to me, stark naked, nipping my neck. As I opened my car door and a gust of night air slapped me in the face, I wasn't so sure.

His plan was simple. We'd go speak to his contact from the All. If some supernatural butthole was behind this whole thing, his guy would know it. Easy enough, right?

I adjusted my spaghetti strap in the passenger window, sighing as Jack appeared behind me. He nuzzled my hair, sending a fresh tremor down my spine.

"You look positively delicious," he purred.

It was the gospel truth. I'd bought the slinky black number from Macy's. It clung and dipped in all the right places and the soft material was soft on my dark skin.

I glanced over at Jack in his sleek number. I'd always complained that we never did anything that involved him keeping his clothes on. He didn't disappoint. His crisp white shirt beneath his dinner jacket made his eyes sparkle in the moonlight.

"Not when you spend most of the night talking about how delicious the bartender probably tastes." It was only when I threatened to turn her into a toad that he zipped his lip. Standing there, dressed to the nines for a cocktail party with my undead boyfriend snapped me out of my dreaminess. This was no date. We were here on business.

We continued toward the museum, the only sound the crunch of our shoes on the gravel road. I'd expected a bigger showing for a party...Jack's car was the only one of the few in the lot. "So by party," I began. "Did you really mean you, me and your contact?"

A series of hisses echoed around me as a harried man, mid 30s stopped a few inches from me. I imagined his tattered ensemble was quite dashing a few seconds ago, but now he looked like something that was run through the garbage disposal.

"It probably has something to do with your penchant for sneaking up on people," I quipped. Jack's disapproving glance wiped the smile from my face. "Alright fine." I released the block and like exhaling, the barrier dissipated.

"I should kill you where you stand, necro," Darius growled.

Jack stepped in front of me, his back taut and stiff. "I know we have history, brother, but if you touch my woman, Ill cut your head off myself."

Darius sniffed, attempting to compose himself. "I'll never understand your fascination with mortal women, Jacques."

"Jack," he corrected icily.

Darius's white teeth gleamed as he disregarded Jack's comment, circling me like a vulture stalked its prey. "You do know how to pick them, Jacques. This one’s particularly toastier than your usual fare though." I shivered as he moved in the shadows, stopping inches from my face. "She’s still beautiful though, brother. No doubt. The blacker the berry and all of that." He saddled up to the naked nape of my neck. His breath was hot on my flesh. He took a long, shuddering breath as he inhaled deep. He wheeled around and gave me a look over. "You've tasted her?" Without waiting for a reply, he pressed on. "Is her blood sweet?"

I felt Jack bubble with anger beside me. "Darius-"

I stepped away from them both. The dick measuring contest was a bit much and I wasn't just any human. I could fight my own battles. "Bite me if you dare, fanger. It'll be your last."

Jack bared his fangs, wrapping a protective arm about my shoulders. "Ja-"

Instead of a vampire battle royale, further cementing the un-dateness of the evening, silence moved around the circle like a virus. Jack and Darius exchanged looks as the testosterone and fangs were replaced by wariness.

"No," Darius scoffed, smoothing what was left of his shirt. "The last I heard she was in Spain. Why would she come all the way to North Carolina for a cocktail party?"

Her skin was pale and fair, like porcelain. Long dark hair hung past her waist, gold baubles tied to small, intricate braids. She moved like she was underwater, each step fluid as she swished back and forth toward us. Her face was beautiful and ancestral, like her features were crafted by Michelangelo himself. But there was something about her...I wanted to look away but my eyes wouldn't let me. My body didn't want to miss one movement, not even a twitch.

"What is she?" I murmured.

I found myself foolishly wondering if I pleased her. I finally had control over my faculties and turned to my right...where Jack was down on one knee, head down. Darius was in a similar stance, his black hair flapping.

When I glanced back up, she stood right in front of me, her opal eyes locked on mine. Pulling her shawl tight around her shoulders she gave me a toothy grin. Each one glimmered...and were filed to a razor thin edge.

"She’s an Old One," I said in awe.

"What a smart necromancer you are, child," she said in thickly accented English. "My name is Athanasia and I am quite old—a first of my kind." She reached down beside me and planted a delicate kiss on Jack's bowed head. "And I'm their mother."

“Mother?” I repeated, confused.

Jack turned his face up to the moonlight and the hate and disdain was clear on his handsome face. “She’s our maker, Jade.”

Chapter Sixteen

Dinner Party