Carnal (Her Dark Desires #1) (6 page)

She
stared at me as if my hair had just caught fire.

“Er,
never mind,” I said, deciding to drop the subject of our most hated rivals.

Raoul
snickered. “I’m sure after drinking the jungle juice, you’d be seeing all kinds
of doorways. I should know, seeing as I work there.” Raoul bartended part-time
and freelanced as an incubus other times. The amount of money he pulled in was
ridiculous.

“Speaking
of doorways,” Monique said, clapping her hands. “I believe you got a new toy
from one of your clients for us to play with.”

One
of Raoul’s top ten clients owned a sex toy shop catering to every fetish you
could dream up. One of his perks was getting to bring home merchandise. The
owner claimed it would help her weed out the “bad” products, but I secretly
thought she was just looking for an excuse to stay in touch with Raoul. I
thought she had a bit of a crush on him.

We
cleaned up, cranking up the radio and dancing while we worked. Raoul and
Monique’s dancing quickly turned into something much hotter. Before long,
clothing started flying off.

Staring
at them, I thought of Hector and I in that position. A wave of heat flashed
through me as I imagined his hands roving to dangerous places.

Monique
twirled Raoul’s tie around her finger, giving me a coy smile. “I’m sure you’ll
learn lots at Elysian, but are you sure you don’t want to join us? We could
teach you a thing or two.”

I
smiled, crossing my arms. “Um, thanks, but I’m good.”

“Aw!”
Raoul pouted. “Not even on your last night?” They’d been inviting me to join
them for a while now, but I was always too chicken. A part of me was curious to
how a threesome worked, but hell, I couldn’t even get a onesome right.

“I
promise it will be educational,” Monique added in her smokiest tone.

“Make
that fucking transcendent,” Raoul murmured, who’d taken to kissing her neck.

“Um,
thanks, but I’m okay. Really.”

Monique
shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Hey,”
Raoul said as they started to walk toward Monique’s bedroom. “You up for board
games later?”

I
smiled. Board games were a tradition with us. It was one of our favorite past
times, especially if liquor was involved. Raoul had a knack for turning
practically any game, no matter how innocent, into a drinking game. “Sure!”

“Kay,
baby doll. Give us thirty minutes?”

“Okay.
I’ll shower and finish packing.”

That
last part deflated my spirit. It was so hard admitting I’d have to say goodbye
tomorrow.

Raoul
and Monique must have noticed too, because the atmosphere mellowed for a bit.

Not
wanting to be a Debbie Downer, I slapped on a smile and said, “Well, you two
have fun experimenting. I’m gonna get busy.”

With
a little wave, I turned and headed toward my room.

Pausing
in the doorway, I stood there and stared at the room that would no longer be
mine after this evening with an aching heart. Finally forcing myself to get
cracking, I grabbed my hot pink suitcase and hauled it onto my bed, where I began
shoving items into it. It quickly started filling up as I tucked away clothing,
books, shoes, and anything else I thought I’d need. Okay, so maybe half of it
was junk I really wouldn’t need but wanted to take with me because I wanted a
piece of home to carry away. Space be damned, I was taking my pictures with me.
And my autographed Hector calendar. I’d managed to snag it from my cubicle
yesterday, not caring if Elias saw it as petty theft.

I
hovered over my suitcase, running my thumb along the smooth, wooden frames of
my pictures. I stared at them, a feeling of nostalgia mixed with sadness coming
over me. All of them were of Monique, Raoul, and me, usually together but in
different combinations. I didn’t have any other close friends.

One
picture I carried with me wherever I moved. A woman who looked like an older
version of myself lay in a hospital bed, smiling at the camera despite the pain
I knew the cancer treatments were putting her through.

I
smiled back.
Miss you, Mom.

Wiping
away tears, I quickly wrapped the frames in handkerchiefs so they wouldn’t
break, then grabbed my robe and my pajamas before padding away to the bathroom
for a much welcome hot shower.

Sad
to say, I almost didn’t take a bath because I didn’t want to wash away Hector’s
cinnamon cologne smell. But my desire to be clean and smell good won over, and
I jumped in the shower. As the hot water ran over me, I kept replaying in my
head over and over how securely he’d held me in his arms, as if he hadn’t
wanted to let go either.

I
closed my eyes and sighed. Maybe he was just being nice. Maybe I was reading
too much into his actions.

Killing
the water, I climbed out feeling much more relaxed, and toweled off. I pulled
on my robe and walked to my room, patting my hair down as I went. My mind was
still focused on all things Hector, which was why I didn’t notice the electric
tingle of a paranormal presence until I was standing in my doorway.

I
froze. Hadn’t I left the light on?

“Monique?”
I said. “Raoul? You in here?”

No
response.

Something
shifted, and an icy draft made the hairs on my skin rise. “Saaaaaalllllyyyyy,”
something hissed.

My
heart rate shot up. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I made out a
human-shaped shadow.

Gasping,
I flipped on the light about the same time something fell to the ground,
followed by the sound of broken glass. Heart pounding hard, I looked around.

Empty.

I
stood there, panting and trying to get a grip on my terror. The window was up,
my curtains flapping innocently in the breeze. Which would have been fine had I
not been ninety-nine percent certain I’d closed that window.

Anxiously
glancing around and assuring myself the room was empty, I crossed to the other
side and quickly shut and locked the window. Still shaking, I looked around,
trying to take a mental tally of anything stolen. It didn’t look like the
intruder had touched anything. Then what had made that shattering sound?

I
started to step forward when I happened to look down, right before I would have
planted my bare foot over a piece of broken glass. Kneeling, I examined the
mess.

One
of my picture frames lay in shambles, apparently dropped by whoever had been in
my room.

With
trepidation, I picked up the picture and shivered. It was like picking up a
piece of ice, it was so cold.

The
photograph was from the time Monique, Raoul, and I had gone to Six Flags. We
smiled at the camera as another tourist snapped the photo.

I
squinted. Something shimmered along the edges. Brushing my thumb along the
icicle-picture, I gasped, realizing it wasn’t shards of fine glass.

It
was frost.

“What
the-”

I
flipped over the picture, my eyes widening as I read the message scrawled in
what appeared to be blood.

“Mine.”

That
got me to my feet. Feeling cold all over - and not from the chill that lingered
in the air - I ran out of the room, calling for my roommates.

Chapter 5

THERE
ARE SOME THINGS you’re better off never seeing. Like your roommates going at
it, buck naked. But while mentally scarring me for life, that didn’t stop me
from telling them what had happened.

They
immediately ceased their “sexual exploration” and joined me in my room. Then
Raoul did what any loving roommate would do.

He
called the D.P.I.

Not
fifteen minutes later, “suits” were prowling my room, taking apart anything
that might lead to a clue. I wish I could say it looked all cool, like in
C.S.I., but actually, there were about two agents who showed up, both of which
looked bored to death.

The
woman flipped the picture over again, which apparently no longer bore the
handwritten message. “You said the writing was scrawled in blood?” she asked
doubtfully.

“Yes,”
I gritted out. How many times did I have to answer the same questions?

The
woman, Cassandra, apparently didn’t like my attitude. She stood and pursed her
lips, shoving the picture in my face. “Then how do you explain this? The canvas
is clean.”

“I
don’t know,” I said, exasperated. “It evaporated? I thought you were supposed
to be telling me that, seeing as how you’re the cop and all.”

“O-kay!”
Raoul said, stepping between us so we wouldn’t go at each other’s throats. “I
think we’ve both established this isn’t going anywhere fast. Thanks, Officer.”
He went to shake her hand, and she looked relieved to go. She handed him a
card.

“If
anything happens, call me.”

With
that, she rounded up her partner and left.

I
watched them go, my mouth open and blubbering words coming out. “But - they
can’t - they haven’t caught him yet!”

“Maybe
because there’s nothing to be caught,” Monique said quietly.

I
rounded on her, about to argue, when all the fight was sucked out of me by
disappointment. “You don’t believe me.”

Monique’s
face fell. “Gosh, I feel terrible saying this because I’m your friend, but do
you think there’s a chance you imagined the whole thing? You had a lot of
alcohol, plus you’re a lightweight.”

No
one could imagine terror like that, drunk or not. “No,” I said woodenly. “I
couldn’t - wouldn’t – make something up like that.” I never dropped my eyes
from hers.

Raoul
watched me with concern. “Baby doll, you’re pale as a sheet.”

I
hugged myself. “Guess I’m still pretty shaken up.” That was an understatement.
I’d be lucky if I didn’t have to get a prescription to help me sleep.

Monique
gazed at me a moment longer before a determined look came over her face.
“Raoul, Sally, grab your pillows and the air mattress from the closet. We’re
having a slumber party in the living room.”

“Really?”
I asked, hopeful. “You mean it?”

She
smiled. “Umm hmmm. We can even leave the lights on.”

I
hugged her, I was so relieved, then pulled Raoul into the embrace. “You guys
are the best friends a girl could have.”

They
squeezed back. I dedicated this moment to memory, knowing moments like these
were about to become rare.

When
I finally let them go, we split off. “I’m grabbing my bat, too,” Raoul said, “just
in case that motherfucker decides to come back.”

I
grinned, feeling much better.

Add
ten minutes and another bottle of wine later, and we were all snuggled up on
the air mattress, laughing and watching reruns of
Sex and the City
.
Sometime around two a.m., we started passing out. True to their word, Monique
and Raoul had left on all the living room lights. It was the most secure I’d
felt in ages, being surrounded by my friends - other than being held by Hector.

No
demons encroached on my dreams. I slept like the dead. And that’s about what I
felt like when six a.m. rolled around, and I awoke to the obnoxious trill of my
alarm to a hangover.

I
sat up with a groan, sounding and probably looking like a zombie. Dragging
myself out of the comfort of my warm sleeping place, I trudged to the bathroom
then scowled at my appearance. Screw looking cute. I was in survival mode now,
until I got at least three cups of coffee in me.

Raoul
was still asleep, snoring away, but Monique was primed and ready. I kind of
wanted to hate someone whose hair was perfectly styled by six o’ clock in the
morning, but how could I? She was so nice.

Monique
spit out her coffee when I stumbled into the kitchen. “Oh, my God. What are you
- is
that
what you’re wearing to Elysian?”

I
looked down. It was a cute pair of pink sweatpants with the word DIVA stamped
across my ass in glittery silver letters. A matching hoodie completed the
ensemble. “Um, yeah?”

She
set her cup down, seized my wrist, and dragged me into her room. “No, no. You
are not walking out the door looking like you just crawled out of bed.”

“But
I did just crawl out of bed.”

“And
it shows, honey! We have to make you look like the sexy fox you are. Hector
will be there.”

“But
I probably won’t even see him,” I tried interjecting, but she kept talking as
if I hadn’t spoken.

“Now,”
Monique said, cracking her knuckles, “let’s see what I have for you to wear.”

With
orders to go grab my suitcase so she could “properly dress me,” I finally
complied and fetched my suitcase. Being a fashionista, once Monique got going
there was no stopping her.

She
dumped the contents on the floor and began repacking my suitcase with mini-skirts,
pencil skirts, short tops that tied at the waist, and an assortment of pumps
ranging from furry and hot pink to glittery and super-strappy.