Immortals After Dark 05 - Dark Needs at Nights Edge

“And you’ll only be a human—with nary a ghostly power. Are you sure you’ll be able to handle it?”
    “I thrive on excitement.”
    “Adrenaline junkie,” Mari said. “Got it. So this’ll be a Cinderella redux. I feel all fairy godmotheresque.” She peered at Néomi. “You’re sure you want to do this?”
    Néomi said, “My ball awaits.”
    “While I get ready, take a gander at the Liver Spanking live.” Mari pressed her fingertips to the glass, studiously avoiding any direct eye contact with the mirror until after a scene had appeared. Raucous beings were dancing around a bonfire at least five stories high.
    Beautiful chaos. Néomi yearned to be amidst it, even as she wondered if she could indeed handle being thrown into that pandemonium, a mortal among immortals.
    “Check out my hubby.” Mari altered the scene and pointed to a very huge and handsome male—who was scowling fiercely at his surroundings and then into his drink. “Damn, that werewolf melts my butter,” Mari sighed. “He’s so miserable,” she added delightedly.
    Néomi frowned. “That’s Bowen MacRieve—your husband?” When Mari nodded, Néomi said, “He was supposed to come after Conrad in two weeks if he wasn’t better. Could you get your husband to not, well, hurt Conrad?”
    “I’ll talk to him. But I didn’t think you would care, seeing as the vampire called you pathetic.”
    “I do care, don’t I?” Néomi sighed. She supposed she always would.
    Because she might possibly have fallen a little bit—really a tiny bit—in love with Conrad.
    “Why don’t you go with the intent to forget all about him?” Mari asked. “After all, it’s possible he could find his Bride tonight—and she might not be you. There’ll be plenty of males there to distract you. Get Nïx to show you Cade and Rydstrom—buddies of mine and some of the hawtest demon brothers you’ll ever see.” She took her tiny cell phone from one of her many pants pockets. “Gotta make a quick call.”
    When Mari walked to the other side of the room, Nïx pointed out two horned males who were uncommonly attractive. “There’s Cade, all flawless golden good looks and moral ambivalence. A perfect foil to mighty King Rydstrom with his scars and proud honor.”
    “Look at those eyes,” Néomi breathed. Though one brother was lighter haired and one darker, they both had blazing green eyes.
    “Oh, yes. They have eyes, too, don’t they? Everybody says that’s what has females begging to do the hula hoop under them. Either that or their accents—a cross between Aussie and Sith Ifrican. But I think it’s the horns.”
    Shell-colored and pleasingly turned, their horns started just above their ears, curving back along their heads. Their shape and direction reminded Néomi of the laurel wreath crowns men wore in antiquity, though Rydstrom’s horns were as battle-scarred as the rest of him.
    “Yes,” Nïx continued, “those sleek... rock-hard... lickable horns.”
    Had Nïx just growled? “It sounds like you want one of them. Or, uh, both.”
    “Oh, no, no. I’m Mike Rowe’s beloved.”
    “Is this Mike down there?”
    “No, Mikey’s playing hard to get at present.” Her eyes going vacant, she murmured, “But it will do you no good... you naughty little scamp.”
    Just then Néomi overheard Mari say, “Hey, Elianna... . Ha-ha, no, I don’t need bail! I was wondering about that shell spell for ghosts. Is it corpus carnate or carnate corpus?”
    Merde! The witch was having to get instructions?
    Mari paused, then said, “I am too up for this... . Uh-huh, uh-huh... and that’s why I won’t get entranced, now, isn’t it?”
    Néomi was about to express concerns when Nïx said, “I put that vampire in your house. And I still don’t know why.” She leaned in, appearing genuinely puzzled. “Especially since you’re going to die.”
    Néomi swallowed. “How do you know Conrad?”
    “I know his brothers.” Her voice took on a dreamy tone. “And I suppose I have an affinity for Conrad. I have squatters in my mind, too.”
    “So, I’m back!” Mari said. “Have you seen anything on Néomi? What course should she take?”
    Seeming to come back to the present, Nïx told Néomi, “I see very little on you. I’m called ever-knowing, not all-knowing. But I know—for a fact—that the day anyone discovers what you’re about to do will be your last.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “No one besides the three of us can know the conditions