Kissed by Smoke (26 page)

“Apology? I’ve never even met you.”

“An apology for having to deal with Jordan
last night,” he replied, motioning with his head for me to follow
him to the computer room. I dropped back just a tad and my eyes
widened at the masterpiece that was his luscious bottom. His blue
jeans were like a second skin. I even liked his silly brown cowboy
boots.

“Ah yes, Jordan. I pity anyone who crosses
his path.” I fell into the second rolling chair as he sat and began
dispersing jelly filled doughnuts. He must have been psychic,
because they’re my favorite. Of course, he could literally be
psychic, if the employees of the temple were any indication. The
first drink of coffee warmed my insides, banishing any worries left
over from the night.

“My name’s Brett Hollis,” he said, taking a
bite of his doughnut. “And you’re Vale. What an awesome name. Is
there a story there?”

“Not really, just hippie parents.” I shook
my head, chugging some more coffee. “God, this stuff is good. Is it
actually brewed?”

He laughed, and I liked it, a low rumble
that I felt in my chest. I also liked the comfortable way he
slouched in his chair, one ankle crossed to rest on his knee. His
polo shirt wasn’t tucked into his waistband, earning him many
brownie points in my fashion book. “Yeah, I have my own drip pot.
It’s hard to find good coffee in this country, even I can admit
that. Where are you from?”

“A tiny town in Mississippi called Frog
Lick, about an hour from Jackson.” He burst out laughing, and I
gave him a sheepish look. “No, really, that’s its name. A little
bit of nowhere.”

“From one small unknown town to another, eh?
I’ve lived here all my life. What brought you here?” He had
powdered sugar on his top lip. It was precious.

“A dart,” I answered through a mouthful of
doughnut.

He questioned me with his eyes, chewing.

I smiled, swallowing before I answered. “I
saved money for five years to get out of Frog Lick. Bagging
groceries,” I rolled my eyes. “One day, I threw a dart at a map and
it landed on Quicksilver.”

“Brave,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at
me.

“Or insane, if you’re my mother,” I laughed.
I was silent for a minute, the doughnut sticky between my fingers.
Last night came back in a rush. “What’s up with the curfew? I mean,
I’d never heard of it before Jordan dumped it in my lap. And there
were weird noises…” I trailed off, wondering if he would think I
was crazy.

I’d struck a nerve. An almost imperceptible
stiffness took his back, before he relaxed and took another sip of
coffee, licking his perfect pink lips. “It’s not so much a curfew,
Vale. Did he tell you nothing about it?”

I met his inky eyes, and they were full of
worry. “No, he just told me to stay inside and gave me instructions
for the temple.”

“That guy’s such a wanker.” Brett took a
deep breath, putting his Styrofoam cup back on the desk. He may
have been staring at the surveillance screens, but he wasn’t seeing
them. “Have you ever heard of the Wild Hunt?”

It sounded vaguely familiar from years of
listening to witchy-babble from my parents. “Maybe. Isn’t it a
myth?”

He nodded. “A group of souls led by a lesser
deity that pillages the countryside in the guise of a hunting
party. Hounds from hell, horses with fire in their eyes. Anyone who
sees them gets taken to join the party.” His voice was hollow, full
of old pain. There was another story there that he wasn’t
sharing.

“But, it’s just a legend,” I argued, my eyes
searching his face.

“No, it’s not.” The words fell flat between
us, his dark eyes sparking as they caught mine. He dropped one boot
to the floor, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees. He
stared at the dirty concrete floor, avoiding my gaze. “It’s very
real.”

I scooted my chair back, abandoning my
doughnut to the desk. The fluorescent lights above us made my hands
look sallow, and I prayed it wasn’t doing the same to the rest of
me. “Legends aren’t real. They’re made up by men who are looking to
entertain themselves and control others.”

He continued as if I hadn’t spoken.
“Quicksilver is one of many small towns in the country that have
been targeted by the Hunt. They ride each night between midnight
and three. They take anyone who sees them, any dog who crosses
beneath them, any horse left in the fields. It’s for our own safety
that we remain inside, doors locked, and curtains closed.”

I wanted to laugh, but he looked so serious.
Relaxing back in his chair, he brushed his hands through his hair.
“If you don’t believe me, pick up the newspaper when you get
home.”

“I will,” I said, taking the last bite of my
doughnut and getting to my feet. He threw me a set of keys.

“It’s a piece of crap, but it drives. I’ll
see you in twenty four hours.”

I took his ancient Renault to headquarters
by following his own GPS system, wondering if he’d named it, and
also wondering if I’d ruined any chance of a romance between us. He
was utterly scrumptious. The no-nonsense British voice of male
persuasion took me to a nondescript black glass building with a
postage stamp parking lot lit very well by floodlights.

Right inside the front doors, a mousy
brunette receptionist gave me a welcoming smile. She was a tiny
thing, engulfed by the round wooden desk behind which she perched,
her neck craned to see me over the counter. Only the high, teased
section of hair on top of her head was visible from the door. Her
dress suit was bright red, as was her lipstick. Not a look I could
ever pull off, but she looked very Jackie O. “Can I help you?”

I dangled Brett’s keys. “I’m Vale Avari. Do
I leave the car keys with you?”

“Oh! Vale! It’s so nice to meet you! I’m
Katherine!” She stood, reaching across the counter to shake my
hand. She had a chirpy, bird-like voice. I instinctively liked her.
“Yes, you leave the keys for the next shift with me. Just sign the
log right here, and you’re good to go!”

As she settled back down, I scrawled my name
on the dotted line and dropped the keys in the basket, where mine
were waiting. My Hello Kitty charm smiled benignly up at me. I bet
Jordan loved it. “Thanks.”

“How was your first night?” Katherine
inquired, squeaking back into her chair, the sound loud enough to
make my ears bleed. She smoothed her fitted suit skirt to her
bottom before sitting, a show of feminine decorum that I never
would have practiced in my life.

“It was interesting,” I answered honestly
with a grim smile, hula-hooping my keys around a finger and turning
to leave. “Thanks.” Katherine nodded politely, her vacant smile
making me think there wasn’t a whole lot going on behind her pale
green eyes.

I’ve been known to be wrong.

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