Jane Kindred - Kindling The Darkness

Lucy swore softly. “A fireman? He’s a goddamn fireman . Firefighter. Whatever.” But “man” was the part her stupid hormones were focusing on, for sure. He’d been suited up in a heavy bunker jacket and loaded down with gear. It wasn’t like he’d been shirtless and posing for a “Hot Firemen of Jerome VFD” calendar, for God’s sake. But she’d already seen him shirtless. “Dammit.” She didn’t need this. She should just stop by Polly’s Grotto in Sedona tonight, pick up some dumb, harmless satyr with an overactive libido and get her itch scratched.

Except that itch increasingly wanted to be scratched by Oliver Connery. Who was probably a fire-starting were-beast.

She’d phrased it that way in her head to remind herself of the dangerous territory she was heading into and shut off her train of thought, but her libido immediately responded with another spike of temperature. You know you want a fire-starting were-beast.

“I do not want a fire-starting were-beast!” Saying it aloud didn’t help. She was never going to be able to concentrate on these eyewitness interviews if she didn’t do something about this nonsense. It was only three o’clock—a little early for drinking, but Polly’s had the distinction of being a sort of free-floating alternate dimension. There were always a few patrons inside from other time zones. Lucy could take care of business and be back in Jerome by full dark to hunt.

She stopped by the villa to change into something that would be easy to get out of and back into—a knee-length shift in black stretch velvet—and took her hair out of the braid before heading to the Grotto. Any hope of slipping in under Polly’s radar was dashed almost as soon as Lucy arrived.

“That time of the month, is it, darling?”

Lucy gritted her teeth as she turned from the bar where she was waiting for her drink. Polly was sporting lavender locks this evening—and a silk sheath dress in the same color that was so transparent it ought to have been illegal.

“I’d say the same to you, except I’m pretty damn sure you’re on the prowl all the time.”

Polly blinked matching lavender eyes, an amused smile tugging at her lips. “So you’re admitting you’re on the prowl, then. That’s refreshing. Until your accidental transformation when Lucien ascended—or rather de scended to the throne, to be precise—I had the impression you were a bit of a cold fish.”

Lucy snorted. “I thought you were the one who was a fish.”

Polly looked offended. “I am not a fish . Sirens are not fish .”

Lucy’s drink had arrived. She put her money on the bar and picked up the highball. “Honestly, Polly, I don’t care if you have a mermaid’s tail and scales or slippery shark bits. I didn’t come here to socialize with you. I’m on a job tonight, and I have about thirty minutes to—” She felt her skin flush as she realized what she’d been about to say.

Polly laughed. “I have just the boy for you. It is boys you like?” She grabbed Lucy’s hand before Lucy could move it out of reach and dragged her through the misty club to a set of booths in a dark corner.

“Finn, meet Lucy.”

From one of the shadowy booths, a figure peered out—and instantly seemed to create his own bioluminescence. Lucy swallowed. Finn was about as far from human as a creature could get while still maintaining a human appearance—but what an appearance. The glow seemed to be coming from inside his pale green skin. He looked like a ghostly Channing Tatum.

Finn rose and smiled. “Pleased to meet you, Lucy. Won’t you sit down?”

Lucy turned toward Polly and murmured, “What am I dealing with here?”

“Finn is a kind of deep-sea undine,” Polly said without attempting to be discreet. “An electric mer-eel, if you will. He has a unique talent.” She pushed Lucy into the booth. “Why don’t you two kids get to know each other?”

Lucy glared at Polly’s back as the siren turned and flitted away, trying to retain her dignity as she sipped her drink. “Sorry. I don’t know what Polly was thinking—” Lucy’s words cut off on a gasp as Finn took her hand while he slid back into the booth. His touch was like a light surge of current that traveled up her arm and over her skin in a tingly ripple. It was as if he’d instantly licked her all over then traced it with a violet wand.

“Is that all right?” Finn’s voice was sensual and soothing. “You’re unusually receptive. I normally have to ask first before a pulse is received.”

“A...pulse?”

“My energy seeks to fulfill desire. Every time I breathe, it sends out a pulse.”

Another one went through her. “Oh, shit.” Lucy set her drink roughly on the table, sloshing gin and tonic over the rim. “Oh. Wow.”

“And the pulse is translated by the receiver into whatever he or she is in need of.”

He smiled and exhaled, and Lucy nearly had an orgasm.

But Finn’s smile faltered. “Ah, I’m sorry.” He looked a little sad as he let go of her hand. “Your need is more specific.”

“What...my...specific?” She tried to regain her composure and resist the urge to snatch for his hand like a kid in a candy store grabbing for a sweet.

“Your desire is for an individual.” Finn sat back. “If you want my advice, I wouldn’t seek to fulfill it elsewhere, and I wouldn’t try to resist it. It’s not good for your health—physical or emotional—to bottle that up. If he reciprocates that desire, there’s no time like the present.” He smiled, and the smile seemed to set Finn’s skin glowing in a slightly warmer hue.

Lucy downed her drink and cleared her throat. “And if he doesn’t reciprocate it?”

Finn’s gaze flitted over her with a little shake of his head. “I’d find that hard to believe.”

After thanking Finn, Lucy made her escape. Polly winked at her from the bar as Lucy slipped out the door.

She collapsed into the seat of her car once she’d reached it. What if he doesn’t reciprocate it? What the hell was she thinking? She was not going to throw herself at Oliver Connery just because her wyvern hormones had fixated on him. They weren’t the boss of her. And they’d subside on their own in a few days if she could just keep her shit together.

Her phone, which she’d tucked into the waistband of her underwear, buzzed, and Lucy nearly jumped out of her skin. Jesus . Who needed a...whatever Finn was...when you had a vibrating phone? On second thought, Finn had been decidedly more satisfying. Just not...satisfying enough.

It buzzed again, and Lucy hitched up her skirt and yanked out the phone and answered. “Lucy Smok.”

“Are...you okay?”

Oliver’s deep voice rumbling against her ear made her wet. “Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“You just sound a little funny. Sorry. I wanted to let you know that we’ve had another sighting.”

Lucy sat up straight. “During daylight?”

“Sort of. It was in one of the mine shafts.”

“Did it attack?”

“No, some tourists caught sight of it and got the hell out of there. They’re here at my shop now. Do you want to come interview them?”

“I’m in Sedona, but I can be there in forty-five minutes.”

It would take too much time to head back to the villa for a change of clothing, but she kept a “go bag” under the seat, a habit from her days of globe-trotting for Smok Consulting.

Lucy stripped off the dress where she sat, ignoring the looks from a couple who’d pulled into the space next to her, and wriggled into the garments she’d pulled from the bag: a pair of soft faded jeans and a comfortable shirt from her alma matter that she liked to travel in. After trading her heels for a pair of white slip-on sneakers, she was on her way. Dusk was just settling over Mingus Mountain as she made her way up.