Afterlight - Elle Jasper [101]
I did pretty well, keeping my distance those few days, and Eli actually allowed it. I’d made it perfectly clear that we needed to focus on this mission and not get caught up in a lust affair. Eli had made quite an effort, too, at the urging of his papa; he’d stayed away, and Phin continued to be my babysitter.
The dreams continued.
I had two more nights at the apartment. I’d agreed to spend the rest of Seth’s quickening at the House of Dupré, mainly to train. If anything, I was a workaholic, and hell yeah, I’d train my ass off if it helped take down the Arcoses. I’d dreamed the two nights before; I’d kept them to myself because of the nature of the dreams. They were highly intense, erotic, at times freakishly kinky, and part of me thought they came over me because of what I went to bed each night thinking of: Eli. The first night, after the warehouse, I found myself back at the Panic Room, in one of the back rooms, completely naked, my limbs spread and roped to the bed—something I’d never been into. I liked control too much, I guess. He was there—always the same beautiful, flawless, freaky guy—and he did nothing more than stare at me. He whispered nasty-bad things in my head, things he wanted to do to me with his tongue, how many different positions he wanted to take me in, and it was like a drug. I wanted to break free and escape the panic rooms, and put as much distance between us as possible; I wanted him inside me first. It was insane. Not once had this dream guy ever physically touched me. Afterward, I felt wicked guilty.
The following night I found myself alone at an amusement park on the waterfront—sort of like Coney Island, I guess. He pursued me through the park, slowly, never relenting. I ducked into the house of mirrors, only to find him there, watching me. When I looked in all the mirrors, I saw us, naked and entwined. I ran to escape, and ran so hard I woke up with chest pain. Weird. Both very weird. I’d never seen this guy in my life, and all I knew of him was that he was one horny little toad who had some major control over my brain.
I climbed out of bed and got ready as usual. I had only one client, and then I’d be heading over to the Duprés’—along with my entourage of Gullah bodyguards. I don’t know why, but I felt safe with them. I know it sounds crazy, but I firmly believed the Duprés were a much different breed of undead than . . . any other undead out there. Besides, Estelle had given me a canister filled with my special brew.
No sooner did I pull on my jeans, black fishnet long sleeve, and white ripped Inksomnia tank than a harsh banging at the back entrance made me jump. When I stepped into the living room, Phin watched me; I shrugged, and jogged downstairs to see who it was. When I opened the door I was surprised—and repulsed—to see someone I’d hoped never to lay eyes on again.
“Well, Ms. Poe,” Detective Claude Murray said. His eyes regarded me a little too closely for comfort. As they always had. “All grown-up, I see.”
I inspected him. “And I see you’re still packed into that suit like a sardine.”
He grinned—looked like he still chewed tobacco—and shook his head. “Grown-up but still a smart-ass, eh? Figures.” He glanced at his watch. “You need to take a little trip down to the station for some questions, little miss tight pants.”
“Why?” Phin said from over my shoulder. I could feel his tension rolling off him in waves. Phin might look