Not that I was about to complain about the lack. I shuffled quickly but lightly through the guard's mind, picking up not only the code for the elevator, but general information like shift times and the fact that most of the security pool either visited the whores or played snooker in the bunkhouse when not on duty. There was also some interesting impressions about the guy who was the head of security—he was a tall, balding man with pock-marked skin. According to this guard, he was also an all-talk, no-skills fuckwit who liked taking the credit for other people's work. Which just might mean he was ripe for a little werewolf action—and mind-reading. As head of security, he'd surely know a whole lot more than this guard—and probably have access to the spare set of lift keys. If there was a spare set. This guard couldn't confirm that there was.
The elevator came to a stop. I withdrew from the guard's mind, re-shielding quickly as the doors swished open. Directly opposite was what I presumed was another elevator, this one not only secured by a key and keypad, but thumbprint scanner as well. The hallway to either side was long and silent, with the only source of light coming from the elevator itself and two solitary light strips down either end. Shadows haunted the space in between, lending to the feeling of isolation.
"Mr. Moss waits tor you down that end," the guard said, pointing to the left. He had his hand on the elevator door to prevent it from closing, which obviously meant he wasn't coming with me.
"What's down that end?" I pointed to the right.
"Mr. Merle."
"They don't share quarters, then?"
The guard snorted. "They don't share much at all."
I raised an eyebrow. "Even women?"
"Especially women." He motioned down the hall again. "You'd better move. He doesn't like to be kept waiting."
Tough was my instinctive response, but not one that was wise given my mission was to seduce first, raid mind second. So I nodded to the guard and headed off into the shadows. My footsteps echoed across the silence, a sharp tattoo of noise that rebounded eerily down the long hall. I'm sure the whole setup was meant to be scary—to induce that whole walking-into-the-shadowy-unknown fear.
And it might have worked had it not been for the fact that I'd faced far worse in the last four months. Shadows and the unknown were easy by comparison.
The small light above the metal door flicked to green as I approached, and the door slid open. The room beyond was surprisingly welcoming. A solitary light lit one corner or the large room, giving the golden walls an even richer hue but leaving the rest of the room to the shadows. The furnishings were a mix of oak wood and claret colored cushioning, and thick woolen rugs were scattered across the carpeted floor. A room that was comfortable and inviting was not something that I would have associated with Moss, but then, what did I know about the man other than the fact he was a psychopath with a hot and heavy aura?
Moss wasn't in the room, but something was. His scent was obscure, oddly hinting at earth and air. I stopped just behind one of the thickly padded sofas and let my gaze roam until I pinned his vague shape in the shadows. Another spirit lizard. Like the other versions I'd seen, this one also had suckered ringers and toes, so there was definitely gecko in their DNA mix somewhere. How "spirit" entered the equation was anyone's guess, but I figured it might have something to do with the fact that even in a room lit by the glow of a lamp, he was almost invisible.
Not that he was cloaking himself as a vampire might. He didn't need to. He was as naked as a newborn, and his skin was as black as the night. In the dusky light, he was little more than a black outline, a figure who had a basic shape but no distinct features. He didn't even have any noticeable type of genitalia—male or female—so why I kept thinking of it as a "he" I'm not sure. Maybe it was the shape of his face—there was something a little more masculine than feminine about it.
"So," I said brazenly, "what the hell are you? The welcome wagon?"
His thin lips curved into a smile. His eyes were blue—all blue. No white, no black pupil, just a dark, almost midnight blue. Pretty, but eerie. "Most first time visitors feel fear when they first see me. Second timers even more so."
I took the time to look him up and down again. "And what is there to fear?"
"Looks can be deceiving."
"Obviously." I let my gaze slide around the room. "Nice place—yours?"
He shook his head. "I am here to prepare you."
I raised an eyebrow. "For what?"
"Sex, of course."
My gaze jumped down his body. "With what?"
"With this." As he spoke, genitalia appeared, dropping down from inside of his body, finding shape and size between his legs. It was like watching a blow-up doll inflate and find form, only weirder.
"Interesting way to deal with the problem of getting kicked in the balls," I noted dryly.
He smiled. As he did so, spines appeared along his cock, flicking upright to reveal pointy ends.
"That," I added bluntly, "isn't coming anywhere near me."
"Yes, it is."
"You try, you die."
"You are here to do as you are told."
"No, I'm here to have sex with Moss. If he hasn't got the equipment to do the deed himself, then that's tough. I'm not fucking a cactus just so he can get his rocks off."
The black creature raised an eyebrow, and I would have sworn there was amusement in his eyes. Then all expression froze as his gaze moved beyond mine, and something inside me quailed.
"Interesting," a voice said from the behind. "You do not fear the creature and the damage it could do."
A cold sensation ran down my spine. For several heartbeats, I couldn't move, could barely even breathe.
I didn't know the voice, but I didn't really need to. Not when his evil seemed to permeate the room, sucking away all the good air, leaving only foul.
The black creature mightn't have induced fear, but the man who stood behind me certainly did.
Because that man was Deshon Starr.
Chapter Eight
I forced my feet to move, to turn around. Close up, Starr appeared even more inoffensive than he had from a distance, A weedy, nerdy type who looked as if he'd be more comfortable behind a desk and a computer rather than being the main power behind one of Melbourne's biggest crime cartels.
It was only when you met his gaze that you began to see the truth. There was no life in his eyes, no humanity. Just an endless arctic expanse of bloodshot blue.
Goose bumps skated across my skin, yet deep inside, recognition twitched. Something about those eyes reminded me of someone. Just who, I couldn't quite remember. Not yet.
And yet, there was no one in my life who caused the reaction Starr had—and surely they would have, no matter what form they were wearing. I mean, the outer layer might change, but the soul inside remained the same. And it was the evil that was this man's soul I could feel.
So why was this happening now, and not when I was with whoever he was in my life?
Did the reason have something to do with what Dia had mentioned earlier—that my so-called puberty was twisting and increasing my talents?
Like I needed that when I already had a drug running around in my system causing havoc.
Starr wasn't alone, and I thankfully averted my gaze. Anything was better than staring at evil incarnate for too long. The second man was Starr's other lieutenant, and Merle was every bit as impressive as he had been from a distance. I looked him up and down then raised an eyebrow. "Now, you I'd be willing to play with. Providing, of course, you have something resembling a regular dick."