Crystal Jordan: Night Games

The booze was good, at least. Chloe’s aunt knew how to throw a party. But she’d also invited a veritable who’s who of Magickals. Even a human could feel the buzz of powerful magic in the place. Many of these people were centuries old, and those years to hone their abilities showed, even if most of them looked no older than he did. Late thirties, early forties. He had no idea why magic made them all stop aging when they hit adulthood, but it sent a chill down the spine at times to look into eyes that had seen far too much for far too long. By human standards anyway.

He sighed and nodded to the bartender when the man set a fresh glass of whiskey in front of him. “Thanks.”

“I’d like another champagne, please.”

The woman’s smoky voice made the hairs rise on the back of Jack’s neck, awareness sliding through him. Her perfume was as rich and heady as her voice. He turned to look at her, hoping that the visual was as good. It’d be a damn shame for a woman to sound that sexy if the rest of the package didn’t match.

It did. The woman was slender, but the dress she wore hugged every single one of the curves she had. Her hair was dark and short, tucked behind one ear to show the elfish point. When she met his gaze, the awareness burned into something much hotter. Jesus, she was even more gorgeous than he’d remembered.

“Hi.” He let his smile widen slowly as he met her dark gaze. “Selina Grayson, right?”

“Hello.”

She gave him the kind of glance that said he looked vaguely familiar, and it took her a moment to place where she’d seen him. Though he hadn’t spoken to her before tonight, he’d never forget the first time he’d seen her, months ago. At the hospital after Tess, Chloe, and her godson were attacked by werewolf terrorists. The entire MCU had been called in to clean up the mess and track down the fleeing members of that terrorist cell. Including its leader, Leonard Smith. The wolf had been one of the most wanted criminals on Magickal watch lists. Until Merek had put a bullet through his skull. Jack had been there for that day, had been close enough to Smith at the time to be sprayed by the hot blood.

Her chin dipped in a nod. “You’re one of Cavalli’s men, right?”

“I’m on his team, yeah. I’m Jack Laramie.” He toasted her with his glass. “And you’re Merek’s old partner.” He winced a bit. “Sorry, I mean former partner.”

“Old is probably more accurate.” Her laugh was rich, sensual, and she looked him over with enough interest to make his heart rate bump up a notch. “Call me Selina, Jack.”

He let his smile spread, and his gaze moved over her body with as much thoroughness as she’d used on him. “You don’t look that old to me, but I’m a Normal so I’ve always been bad at judging these things with Magickals.”

She blinked, then blinked again, as if she were trying to get her mind to process that. “Cavalli has a Normal on his Magickal law enforcement team? Is that even legal?”

Most people just thought those questions. They didn’t blatantly ask them, at least not to his face. Those who did were usually dicks about it. His mouth twisted in a smile. “Yes, he’s allowed to do that. He didn’t break any secrecy laws—my stepfather is a Magickal, so I already knew about magic. I just can’t work it.”

“Sorry,” she said, though she didn’t look at all remorseful. “There’s really not a tactful way to ask about that.”

“If there is, no one’s used it on me yet.”

“Ouch.” She gave a little wince of sympathy.

He shrugged. “That’s the way it goes sometimes.” He watched her grip tighten on her champagne flute, and he realized that she wasn’t as relaxed as she appeared at first glance. “Are you enjoying yourself tonight?”

“I’m a cop. Fancy parties aren’t normally my speed.”

He knew exactly what she meant. He moved down the bar, settled next to her, and turned so his back was pressed to the wood. His shoulder brushed against hers, and he could feel that sharp spark of awareness that had hit him when he’d first heard her voice. The female scent of her filled his nose, and from this close, he could see the smoothness of her skin. He wanted to touch it, and his body reacted to that line of thinking.

Shifting so she faced the crowd with him, he tried not to groan as she ended up plastered to his side. He expected her to move away from him, but she didn’t. She just took a sip of her champagne and cast him a glance through her eyelashes. “Are you enjoying yourself tonight?”

“Not until about three minutes ago, but things are starting to look up.” The slow burn in his veins had little to do with the scotch he’d consumed. He’d gone from wishing he could escape to hoping he got to spend a few more hours with the woman beside him. Definite improvement.

“I was just thinking the same thing.” She tapped his glass with hers. “This is a much better distraction than booze.”

He chuckled. “I rank above the bubbly? I’m flattered.”

“You should be.”

“Is it just the high society shindig that makes you want to drink away the evening?” Because he knew he had plenty of other reasons for not wanting to think about people getting married. His own foray into matrimony could only be described as a disaster. A huge, ugly clusterfuck of a disaster. Too-familiar guilt and pain twisted deep inside him, but he shoved the memories aside and took another deep swig of his scotch.

Her shoulders twitched in a shrug, which made her arm slide against his. Even that innocent touch made him clench his teeth. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been so physically attracted to a woman so fast, but he was sure he liked it.

“I’m not a fan of weddings, high society or otherwise. Plus, every person in my entire chain of command is here.” She toyed with the necklace she wore, licked her lips, and glanced up at him.

“I can see how that could be hard on a person.” It was hard on something, all right. His cock stiffened in his slacks as his gaze locked on her mouth. He could picture those full lips moving over very intimate parts of his body. Not a good thought to be having if he didn’t want to embarrass himself in public. Everyone in his chain of command was here, too, including every ranking member of the All-Magickal Council.

A little smile curled up the corners of her lips. He got the feeling her smile wasn’t something people readily got to see. He knew for certain he hadn’t seen it before today. If he had, he would have asked her out a long time ago. Something that powerful deserved to be appreciated.

“You’re staring,” she said, the smile growing wider.

He didn’t stop. “I’m in law enforcement. Observing people is part of what I do.”

“Is that what you tell the girls?” She shifted closer, her dark gaze flashing unmistakable interest. And heat.

“No.” He grinned. “I tell the girls ... that’s a nice necklace.”

Her dark brows winged upward, her palm covering the pendant that rested below her collarbone. “It’s a talisman.”

“Oh, yeah? Where did you get that?”

For a second, wariness shone in her gaze. She was not used to telling anyone her business. How he knew that so certainly, he wasn’t sure.

“My cousin made it for me. Elves have a special gift for bespelled objects. We’re the best at it. The Elven Assembly even regulates the use of these kinds of objects.” She dropped her hand so he could see it more clearly. “This talisman is for protection. My cousin thought I could use it, since I’d just graduated from the police academy.”

The chain was silver and a little thick for women’s jewelry, and the charm was made up of a few colored stones woven into an intricate design with more silver and perhaps copper.