Cameron Haley - Mob rules

And yet, somehow, it seemed that this same man had murdered at least two people with calculating premeditation in one of the most brutal ways I could imagine. He'd used a death ritual, channeling juice from the Beyond, to take their magic before he'd taken their lives.

I didn't work for the Peace Corps. I'd seen plenty of murders and done some myself. Some of my coworkers were sociopaths. But even in the outfit, there were limits. You just couldn't work with someone who likes to skin and crucify people, any more than you could keep a rabid dog as a pet. I'd heard about guys who went over that line, and they always got put down just like the dog.

This was real evil. If most of my world was shades of gray, this was all the way in the black. But what bothered me most was that I couldn't see even the slightest hint of it in this man.

Given my mood, the conversation wound down before long. We were both stuffed, but Adan insisted on ordering a Washington with cinnamon apples for takeout.

"We can save dessert for the next date," he said. Despite everything, I caught myself smiling at him and meaning it.

We drove back to his loft and I walked with him up to the door of his building. It was about midnight, and the air was cool. I was wondering if he would try to kiss me. I wasn't sure I didn't want him to kiss me, even with what I suspected.

Adan ended my speculation when he leaned into me and kissed me on the mouth. His lips were soft, and firm and wet against mine. He tasted like garlic and chicken, but that was just the fucking pizza.

I'm weak. I responded before I even realized what I was doing. I pulled him to me and kissed him harder. He put his arms around my waist and pulled me close. I felt his thighs and hips press into me and I heard him sigh.

Then I heard him growl.

He bit down on my lip, grinding it between his teeth, and I tasted blood. I tried to pull away but his arms were locked around me and he was pressing his weight into me, driving me back against the wall of the building.

He drew his head back and laughed, spraying saliva in my face. It was so cold it felt hot on my skin. His eyes were completely black.

"Maybe I'll fuck you when I take your skin," he said. It wasn't Adan's voice. It was as empty and inviting as death.

I reached for some juice and started to spin a spell. I'd re-charged the pinkie ring, but he was too close for the repulsion talisman. The arcane threads of a combat spell started weaving together in my mind.

And just like that, his eyes cleared, his rough hold on me loosened and Adan was back. He hugged me and kissed me on the forehead, breathing in the scent of my hair.

"That was intense, Domino," he said, and laughed softly. "I think I forgot where I was for a minute."

"Uh, yeah," I said, "me, too. I think."

He squeezed me-the nice kind, where I get to keep my skin. "Call me tomorrow?"

"Uh, yeah," I said.

Adan smiled at me and gave me a peck on the cheek. "Bye," he said. Then he unlocked the door and went inside. I watched him go and wiped blood from my mouth with the back of my hand.

Okay, so my boyfriend was possessed. Seven I sat in my car all night watching the front of Adan's loft. I wasn't sure exactly what was going on, and I wasn't sure what I could do about it, but I wanted to know if Adan snuck out in the middle of the night to go skin someone.

In a perfect world, I'd have been able to use magical surveillance, like my eye spell. As I'd discovered at the club, though, Adan was heavily warded. The spell wouldn't even get a fix on him, let alone follow him around. So I had to do my surveillance the old-fashioned way. This really wasn't such a bad thing. I liked stakeouts, and I didn't get to do it often enough. I liked following people. I liked sitting in my car, listening to some tunes, wondering what surprising shit a person would do next. The odds were good that Adan was going to do some pretty surprising shit.

About ten o'clock the next morning, the door of the underground garage slid up and Adan's red Porsche pulled into the street. He slid into traffic heading east, and I followed.

I used the traffic spell, but I put a little spin on it. This was a kind of hybrid of the spellcasting I usually did and the completely spontaneous on-the-fly magic that was second nature to a really accomplished sorcerer like Shanar Rashan. It involved altering the spell subtly to produce a similar but slightly different effect. I went with whatever quotation I'd associated with the spell, but changed some of the words to create the modification. The result never sounded as good as the original quotation, but it got the job done.

"Life is too short for red lights," I said. The modified chaos spell snapped into place around me, insuring that I'd be able to stay one car behind Adan without getting cut off by some asshole or hitting an ill-timed traffic light.

Adan's first stop was a driving range about a mile from his loft. He parked the Porsche in the lot and pulled his clubs out of the trunk. If anything, he looked better than he had the night before, even dressed in a T-shirt and athletic shorts. He was beautiful. He was also possessed, but nobody's perfect.

After watching him go inside, I circled the block and fired up my parking spell. I slid into a space-and-a-half across the street that had been occupied by a black Hummer on my first pass. Then I waited.

And waited. Adan had been busy the last couple days, so I wasn't about to begrudge him a little me-time. Maybe hitting little white balls with a metal stick was the perfect therapy for victims of possession.

I was starting to think I should go in and take a look, that maybe he'd been possessed again, when I saw him come out, dressed in street clothes now, and hop in his car. It didn't look like he'd tried out for the PGA Tour or anything, but he did have a healthy glow about him.

The next stop was the mall, which I might have guessed. Shopping is regarded unfairly as a strictly feminine pursuit, but this was L.A. and young men with a lot of money and nothing better to do weren't afraid of a little retail therapy. Besides, a guy couldn't dress as well as Adan did without putting in some time. I parked my car in the garage a few rows behind Adan's and followed him in.

An hour or so later we were only on store number three, my feet were aching, and I'd decided that stakeouts were fine as long as I could sit on my ass in my Lincoln and didn't have to hike all over town. I was sitting by a fountain eating a giant pretzel and watching the entrance of Burberry when I finally admitted that this wasn't getting me anywhere. It was already after two o'clock, and I had no way of knowing when or even if Adan would be possessed again.

I stood up and tossed the remains of my giant pretzel in the trash. I noticed I'd gotten mustard on the cuff of my jacket. Swearing, I dipped a napkin in the fountain and dabbed until the stain was a duller shade of yellow.

I pulled out my cell phone and walked off a ways, lurking behind the mall directory and keeping an eye on the store. Anton answered on the third ring.

"Hey, Domino, you find the guy that skinned Jamal?"

"No, Anton, not yet. Listen, I need you to meet me at Beverly Center."

"Okay, what for?"

"I'll explain when you get here."

"Okay. There is the huge traffic outside, but I should get there in thirty minutes."

"Just hurry, Anton."

"Okay." A few seconds of silence. "Where are you?"

"Jesus, Anton, I'm at the fucking mall. Right now I'm standing by a fucking fountain, but I have no idea where I'll be in half an hour. Just call me when you get here." I usually tried to keep the ghetto out of my language as best I could, but I didn't have a lot of patience where Anton was concerned.

"Okay, okay, Domino, sorry. I'll hurry, and I'll call you."