Brush of Darkness by Allison Pang Page A

eyes. For all that the OtherFolk acted so high-and-mighty around us, they certainly lapped it up when one of us shone.
    Melanie was one of the brightest.
    A sudden handwave caught my attention as Charlie gestured me over to her table. I held up my drink in assent and grabbed my purse. “I’ll see you around, Brandon.” His ears flicked toward me curiously as he wiped off the glass-topped bar.
    “You’ll help me out then?”
    “It’s the fourth one this month, dude. Maybe you should try something different.”
    “Just this last time, I promise.” He blinked winsomely at me. “I really think she’s the one.”
    I laughed despite myself. “Spare me the puppy-dog eyes, wolf-boy. I’ll see what I can do.”
    “It’s nice to see you here again, Abby,” he said, his grin playful now. “You should stop by more often.”
    “Probably.” I rewarded him with a genuine smile. Brandon was a nice sort. A little hairy for my taste, but given some of the OtherFolk quirks I’d seen, I probably could have lived with it.
    I slipped through the swarm of dancers, narrowly avoiding an elbow to the jaw from a satyr dancing a rather obscene version of the Electric Slide. “Watch it,” I shouted above the hum of the music, but he simply gave me a once-over and turned away. Ouch. Rejected by a smelly goat-man. Somehow I thought I’d live, though an inopportune glance at his groin told me
someone
had certainly been eating his Wheaties.
    “Hey there, Sparky.” Robert’s voice drawled out the
r
s,so it came across as “Spahhky.” I liked the way it sounded, despite the usual hostility that lingered beneath. There was a dangerous lilt to it tonight, and I struggled not to wipe my suddenly damp hands on my pants.
    “Robert.” I smiled, taking another sip of my drink to mask my apprehension. As far as angels go, I suppose he was fairly typical—blond, blue eyed, broad shouldered, and well muscled. He tended to dress casually, and tonight was no exception. He cut a nice figure in his button-flys and Sean John shirt. And wings. Huge-ass, glossy white wings that stretched nearly all the way to the ground. At the moment they were neatly arched and partially folded. If they were mine I would have been worried someone might step on them, but Robert gave off an aura of “don’t touch” that apparently translated between realms. Of course, the fact that he had full authority from Moira to smite anything he damn well pleased probably had a lot to do with it.
    “Charlie tells me there’s an . . .” He paused, the words crisp and specific. “An issue.”
    I swallowed another mouthful of Mudslide, squirming beneath the sharpness of his gaze. “I don’t know if it’s really an
issue
. Moira just didn’t tell me when she was coming back.” I struggled to keep my smile. “Honestly, I just thought it was something she did.”
    “Ah well, sure. And she does disappear from time to time, usually to take care of things in Faery, but she’s always been good about letting me know beforehand. This is worrisome.” He chugged his beer and fixed his jewel-bright eyes on me again. “You say you haven’t heard from her at all?”
    I pulled the piece of parchment from my purse and slid it over to him. “Just this note. But she didn’t mention anything about telling you or if she was in trouble. I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”
    “Hold
back
the fort?” He snorted. “The Fae never getanything right.” His sizable bulk pressed across the table and his voice dropped low. “I don’t like it. This whole thing just stinks, especially given what happened with her last TouchStone.”
    Charlie nudged him with her elbow. “Bobby,” she hissed. “You don’t need to get into that.”
    A cold shiver ran down my spine at her words. I wasn’t completely ignorant of the situation, but I’d never gotten a straight answer from anyone on it. “Get into what? What happened with her last TouchStone?”
    Charlie raked a steely gaze over the