Masked Possession. Alana Delacroix

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СКАЧАТЬ the idea before deciding it would probably send Julien into apoplexy. She slid the killer heels back on her tender feet, grabbed her notepad and pen, and headed for the boardroom.

      The shoji screens that surrounded the room had been soundproofed, so the hallway was dead silent except for the clicks of her heels. As Caro was about to pull open the screen, her colleague Robert walked by, papers in hand. “Aren’t you the lucky ducky today?”

      “What?”

      “Love the shoes. Perfect choice.” He winked and strolled on.

      Most warlocks had the sartorial sense of a horse, but Robert had exquisite taste—he was in charge of all their style accounts—so a compliment from him was high praise. It gave Caro a little extra lift to her spine as she prepared to walk into the room as confidently as she could, despite her unease. It was too bad the thought of meeting any masquerada caused her to get this stupid anxiety. You’re going to have to beat that if you want to stay working here, she admonished herself. You can’t go around running away from mommy issues your whole life. Be a professional. You don’t trust masquerada? Doesn’t matter. You don’t have to trust them. You’re not in a relationship. You’re here to do the work.

      On that note, she slid open the screen.

      * * * *

      Eric wasn’t listening to Julien what’s-his-face blather on about his theory of risk and issue management and the value of his brand equity, whatever that meant. The man was a smug bore. He telegraphed this thought through raised eyebrows to Stephan, who simply shrugged, the boardroom lights glinting off his bald head.

      “The issue at hand is more than…” The screen slid slowly open to reveal a small woman holding a notepad. Julien paused and flushed red. “That is, we need to look at a multi-faceted, multi-phasic approach. Caro, nice of you to join us. Finally.”

      Eric stopped listening as his attention focused completely on the woman—Caro—who now strolled into the room, wearing shoes so sexy he nearly forgot to breathe. Her chestnut-brown hair was pulled back in a low bun, accentuating high cheekbones and warm brown eyes. A black skirt pulled tight against her ass when she bent to pick up a dropped pen, showing off soft curves. Eric’s mouth went dry, and his palms sweaty.

      Caro. The unique name suited her. What was she? JDPR dealt solely with arcana and had only them on staff. Masquerada? Unfortunately not—he would have been able to sense her as one of his people. Not a vampire. There wasn’t a hint of fang. A succubus? She certainly had the appeal for one.

      Caro glanced around the table and he could have sworn that she steeled herself before looking closely at him. Intriguing. This was new, and definitely not how people reacted to him. Eric was used to a deliberate examination, regardless of who was doing the looking. Masquerada were rabid about testing new acquaintances to establish comparative status. Even in the human world, his technology company was big enough that he had to constantly deal with people who wanted something from him—jobs, money, deals. Caro’s obvious discomfort, even distaste, was unusual.

      Not to mention that he was in his Alexander masque. Women loved Alexander.

      Julien rushed through the introductions and Stephan jumped on the break to deftly pull the conversation away from Julien’s jargon-speak. “This is all interesting, but I’m not sure investing in a long-term reputation management plan is for us right now,” he said. “We need something more immediate.”

      “How immediate?” Julien asked.

      “Within days.”

      There was a brief pause but Julien was too much of a professional to let any emotion show on his face. “Then let me clarify. You are concerned about Mr. Kelton’s convergence—”

      “Possibility of convergence,” Stephan corrected.

      “Possibility of convergence,” Julien continued. “And you need the other masques dealt with within the week, in a way that their disappearances will not raise suspicion.”

      “We want to take proactive steps,” Stephan said pleasantly. “After all, Mr. Kelton is in no real danger. But the masque he’s currently projecting, for instance, is quite well-known in his community and can’t simply disappear.”

      Caro had her notebook open, a reporter’s pad, Eric noticed, with her pen ready. Her gaze focused on Julien and Eric felt a brief rush of irrational annoyance that she wasn’t looking at him.

      A familiar tug in his hands caught his attention. Glancing down through the spotless smoked-glass tabletop, he saw they were now long and thin, with a perfect manicure. Alberta’s hands. Impossible. How could that be?

      It wasn’t convergence. It was distraction. Yes, he was preoccupied and lost track of himself. A quick flex of his will and Eric brought his hands back to normal, breathing a sigh of relief.

      When he raised his eyes, Caro looked at him with concern in her chocolate-brown gaze. “Are you feeling well, Mr. Kelton?” she asked. “Would you like some water?”

      Her rich voice wrapped around him like velvet. “No water, thanks,” he said brusquely. She frowned slightly and stiffened in her chair. Nice, Kelton. Now she thinks you’re rude as well as crazy. He observed her closely but Caro acted no differently than before. Her question had been sheer politeness, not a challenge from someone who had noticed his slip.

      Still, he needed to be sure. Masquerada weren’t psychic, but they could manage a sort of mental nudge to get another’s attention. She didn’t even look at him. No masquerada would let that psychic poke go unacknowledged. What was she, then?

      “Let me catch Caro up,” Julien said. “Since she was late.”

      He turned to Caro with a pompous expression. Eric hid his amusement when Caro sank slightly down into her seat before pasting an attentive look on her face. Although she jotted notes as Julien spoke, Eric had a sneaking suspicion that they had little to do with the words coming out of the bore’s mouth.

      Julien was well-informed for an outsider, Eric noticed with surprise. Caro’s expression altered slowly from faked to real interest as Julien spoke, looking to Eric occasionally as though to check his reaction. Every time their eyes caught, Eric felt a pull right through his gut. At the end of the lecture, she nodded.

      “Eric Kelton,” she said. “The name is familiar. Technology? Are you much different in your real appearance?”

      “You can judge.” He took three breaths and shifted to his usual self. Her eyes widened and she gasped sharply. He wanted to be gratified by her reaction but had a feeling it was caused by seeing the transition—odd, as masquing was common enough that most arcana wouldn’t consider it shocking. She was breathing heavily and her fingers were white on her pen.

      Although his male pride wanted to claim it as a response to the appearance of his real self, his intuition said it was something deeper and nothing to do with him at all. Damn.

      Then she spoke, her voice steady. “The masques are converging, which means, as I understand from Julien’s comprehensive explanation, that they are beginning to meld with each other.”

      “That’s right.”

      “What about with you? I mean Eric, the core you. Are those masques connecting with your Eric self more than they should?”

      Eric СКАЧАТЬ