Bitten by Cupid(4)

A skittering sound alerted her to the fact that she wasn’t alone. Knowing it was probably rats, Mirabeau instinctively jerked her skirts higher to prevent one of the little buggers from climbing the delicate cloth, but then just as quickly started to lower it as she realized the action left her stockinged legs bare for them to try to climb if they were brave enough. She caught herself before the gown dropped into the inch-deep sewage she stood in and stomped her feet instead to warn off her companions in the dark tunnel. There was no sudden skittering sound of the creatures fleeing up the tunnel; instead, the small sounds stopped altogether, and she knew the rats had frozen and were now no doubt staring at her, their beady little eyes wary or curious. This suggested they were used to and unafraid of humans down here.

“Great,” Mirabeau muttered to herself, then stiffened and glanced upward as she heard sounds from the metal trapdoor she’d descended through from the church basement. She listened to the thump of someone dropping onto the cover above, and to the shuffling sound that followed before there was a second thump that was heavy enough to suggest twice or even three times the weight behind it. Mirabeau was frowning over that when a low grinding followed—the sound that of the trapdoor being unlocked.

She raised a hand to shield her eyes as a flashlight beam suddenly shot directly down into her face.

“Sorry.” The word was a deep rumble as the flashlight beam was moved away from her.

Mirabeau was just fretting over the fact that she didn’t recognize the speaker’s voice when it sounded again, this time a quiet murmur that resembled distant thunder. She caught the soft words, “You go first. I’ll pull the door closed and lock it behind us.”

Those words obviously weren’t directed at her and Mirabeau shifted her hand to see who was descending into the sewer to join her. She had only expected one person, her backup for this assignment, who was supposed to be bringing the package they were to deliver. She’d assumed her backup would be a male. There were few female enforcers in the northern states and Canada, and her usual partner, Eshe, wasn’t available, so the fact that it was a female presently climbing carefully down the slick metal ladder to join her was definitely a surprise. Mirabeau watched the slim figure in a knee-length dress step off the ladder onto the concrete beside her, then glanced to the second person as he started down the ladder as well. Mirabeau had assumed the third person was merely there to close and lock the trapdoor behind them, but while the man pulled the door closed behind him, he too quickly scrambled down the ladder to join her.

Mirabeau automatically moved back to make more room for the large man. When he stepped onto the concrete and turned to face her, she found herself examining the two newcomers in the light thrown by the flashlight the man carried. He held it pointed down at the ground to prevent blinding her again, which she appreciated, but between her night vision and the flashlight, she could see them both as well as if they were out in sunlight.

The female definitely wasn’t her backup, Mirabeau decided. She was little more than a girl and couldn’t be more than fourteen or fifteen—a child to most people but a baby to someone who had passed more than four hundred and fifty years herself. The child was slender and flat-chested, with long blond hair pulled up on top of her head. The look merely emphasized the youthfulness of her features and her slender neck.

Mirabeau wondered briefly who she was and why she was there. She looked familiar, but Mirabeau couldn’t place where she knew her from. She finally turned her attention to the man. The girl was immediately forgotten. Mirabeau had met a lot of men, both mortal and immortal in her life, but she had met very few who could measure up to this one. He was a good head taller than her own five-foot-ten-inch height. He was also handsome, with dark hair and the sort of rugged features she enjoyed. To add to that, the man was extremely wide, with shoulders a linebacker would envy. That wide chest tapered down to a narrower waist and—from the glimpse she’d gotten as he’d descended the ladder in his dress suit—quite the finest behind she’d seen on a man in a long time. The kind a gal could grasp and dig her nails into to urge him on as he—

“Oh, brother. Not you too.”

Mirabeau blinked at the exasperated words from the teenager and turned to peer at her blankly. Not her too what?

“Not you,” the girl said to her on a sigh, then encompassed both her and the male with a gesture. “Both of you. You’re both standing there thinking about what it would be like to have sex with each other. You’re as bad as my sister and Decker. They’re always lusting after each other…or doing it.” She sighed unhappily, then added, “It’s pathetic…I swear I’m never having sex or finding a life mate if it’s going to turn me into a slavering idiot like the rest of you.”