Only Skin Deep: Paranormal MMM Romance, page 3
He wrapped up the final few mugs before signing off from the stream. Daniel shut it down for him as his hands were coated in clay. “Thanks, Daniel.”
Daniel rushed closer and hugged his neck. “No problemo, little bro.”
Colby closed his eyes. There was nothing more magical than a hug from Daniel. It made any day brighter. Luckily, he got multiple hugs a day. "I love you, Daniel."
"Love you, too, Coby." His brother kissed his forehead before backing away.
Rising, Colby cracked his back and neck and grinned at his brother. The life of a potter was hell on the body. He wasn’t even thirty yet, but his body seemed much older than that at times. “Did you reorganize the back shelf for me?”
“I did. All cleaned up, too.”
“What would I do without my big brother looking out for me?”
“I don’t know,” Daniel said. “Can I go play my game?”
“Yeah, sure,” Colby said. “How’s hamburger mac sound for dinner?”
“Stupendous,” Daniel called as he headed for the studio’s door.
“Stupendous? Badassed? Where are these new vocabulary words coming from?”
“Haven.”
“Who?”
“New guy at work,” Daniel stated.
“Ahh.”
“He’s badassed,” Daniel said. “I wanna be like him.”
“I kinda like you the way you are,” Colby said, rinsing his hands off in a tub of water before heading for the sink. Too much clay in the pipes was a bad thing, so he tried to get the bulk of it off before washing them. “You’re cool as hell, Daniel.”
Daniel beamed. “I know.”
“Good. I’m glad you know. Go on inside. I’ll catch up in a minute as soon as I wash up a bit.”
“Okay!”
Daniel departed, leaving him alone to clean up. Colby picked at the bits of clay, his wrists and fingers sore from throwing all day. He noted a tiny black mark on his inner forearm. Scrubbing it didn’t seem to work. A few more swipes did nothing, so he gave up until he got to the sink.
After dinner, he’d have a soak in an Epsom salt bath and begin again in the morning. That day he’d focused on his basic pieces, the mugs and bowls that helped maintain a steady income. The next, he'd concentrate on the more specialty pieces he loved creating. They always sold very well, but often took a lot more time and trouble to create. A mug he would have made in a few days. Some of his art pieces could take weeks.
He moved to the sink and lathered up. As he was washing his hands, the ache in his muscles grew. Month upon month of working clay nearly every day, and it was taking its toll. He needed a break, and soon. Maybe when his last few big commissions were done, and the auction was over, he might take a week off and simply be.
Using the soap, he worked on the little black mark, to no avail. No matter how much he scrubbed, it refused to budge. “What the fuck is this?”
Cancer. It’s skin cancer. Oh my god.
Since his parents’ deaths, Colby had developed a persistent fear of getting ill or something happening to him. If he was gone, who would take care of Daniel? Daniel had enough basic skills to take care of himself, but he needed supervision and attention. He’d end up a ward of the state, and Colby didn’t want that happening.
He glared at the spot, telling himself he’d need to schedule an appointment to have it looked at. After he washed and dried his hands, he grabbed his phone from the tripod to check his online shop for any new sales or orders and noted the live feed had done well. Five new orders and several questions in his inbox. In the morning, he would follow up. Dinner had to be made and after there was to be some ass-whooping time playing video games with Daniel.
He’d likely be the one getting his ass whooped.
He closed the store app, and a text message appeared across the top of his screen. Enchanted Ink? Curious, he hit the button.
Enchanted Ink Tattoo Studio welcomes you. Stop in soon to learn how tattoos can invoke healing and stop chronic pain. Use this code for 50% off your next tattoo: DAColby
Colby frowned. How the hell could a tattoo help with chronic pain? That sounded like bullshit, but the half-off part sounded interesting. He’d often thought of getting a piece memorializing his parents, so it wouldn’t hurt to check the place out in the near future.
Tossing his phone into his pocket, he headed inside to make dinner.
Detective Ash Montgomery was often in the wrong place at the right time. Fate seemed to move him about the chessboard with precarious precision, but it was difficult to see the path at times. When he found himself investigating a recent burglary, he had no idea what would happen next. Had he been told beforehand, he’d have called it a lie.
He scribbled notes into his pad, listening to the drowning tone of the shopkeeper, recounting the theft of several small silver spoons marked ‘Salem’ from a display near the cash register.
“These kids are getting worse and worse lately. Sneaking in and snatching whatever they can get their hands on. Usually, it’s worthless crap.”
Ash scanned the tourist trap—a witch-themed hovel filled with worthless crap—and nodded to himself.
“This time, they actually took something of value.”
Ash glanced at the spinning display, scratching his bearded cheek. “Ever consider putting this behind the counter?”
“I shouldn’t have to move my store around because of these pickpockets. Do your job.”
Ash sighed inwardly. The guy didn’t want to move anything because there was no room to move anything. The place was overrun with tchotchkes and bric-a-brac that would end up just as dusty if purchased—perhaps more. One shift and the house of cards crumbled to the ground; he was sure of it. It left him feeling very much the bull in the china shop. He wasn’t a small guy, by any means. “Leaving valuables out where anyone can steal them isn’t good business. You want to leave them there, so be it, but don’t cry when they come back to do it again. Because they will.”
“Not if you catch them.”
Ash shoved his pencil through the loop in his notepad and tucked them into his pocket. “I don’t expect the department is going to throw many resources this way over twenty bucks in spoons.”
“Two hundred dollars in spoons!”
Ash glanced at the display and noted only four spots were missing. “You can’t claim retail on your insurance forms. Just a reminder.”
The shopkeeper’s face mottled with the color of impotent rage. Before he argued, Ash heard screams coming from outside. He strode to the door and peeked out through the plate glass. People were running in every direction. He shoved his notepad deeper into his pocket and exited into the maelstrom.
He pushed through the tide of people until he found the source of the commotion.
A man was flailing on the ground… and he appeared to be… melting?
Ash rushed over, reaching for his phone to call for an ambulance and a squad car, but paused, unsure. What if this is a preternatural being? I can’t call for backup. While he wasn’t the only shifter on the force, they were outnumbered by humans.
Humans asked too many questions.
He searched his memory. What type of creature… melted? Vampires burned, although holy water caused a melting of sorts. In that scenario, the sun would’ve done him in first—even if it was nearing sundown. There’d be nothing but dust left, so not a vamp. A shapeshifter, perhaps? But if so, what had precipitated that kind of reaction?
He leaned in close. “Hey, hey, hey… what can I do to help?”
The man opened his mouth, but nothing but blood and liquefied viscera poured from his lips.
From the corner of his eye, Ash noticed a glaring red symbol glimmering on the man’s forearm. A forearm that was rapidly disappearing. Phone still in hand, he opened the camera and took a few shots.
“You’re taking pictures? Help him!” one of the few bystanders who hadn’t run away screamed.
What the fuck do you think I can do for him? The only thing he could do. Get as much information as possible and figure out what the hell was happening—so it didn’t happen again. He lifted his gaze. About a dozen humans remained on the scene, some of them taking video themselves.
Wonderful. I’m going viral, for sure. The council will have a field day.
Sirens sounded nearby. Someone else must’ve called. Of course they had. He watched the man gasping for air. “Help is coming.”
“De… de… de…” the man repeated before passing out… and fully melting into a pile of goo. Metallic whirling sounded as a ring spun on the pavement before coming to a stop. The only thing remaining was bloody clothing and shoes.
Ash rose, staring at the pile. Two uniforms arrived on-scene seconds later. They rushed up to meet him. Why did it have to be me here and now? If I hadn’t taken so much time this morning, I could be home right now.
“Secure the perimeter,” he said as soon as they were at his side. “Cordon off the area ten feet around the body.”
“Body?” one asked.
Ash pointed to the mess on the ground. “What’s left of it.”
Their eyes widened before one said, “Yes, sir.”
Ash pulled a pair of latex gloves from his back pocket and dragged them on before carefully searching for clues. He knelt at the side, using a pen tip to push the clothing around some. He found the man’s wallet. David Peterson of Paducah, Kentucky. From the items inside, David was visiting Salem and enjoying the sights. He had a light rail pass, a ticket stub from one of the witch museums, and a photo of himself with a young girl that had to be his daughter from the looks of it.
He scanned the witnesses still lurking. “Did anyone see a child with him? A young girl? Maybe eight?”
All the spectators shook their head. The fact there were single tickets, he theorized the child wasn’t there, but he wouldn’t assume, either.
Another patrol car pulled up, and Ash wandered over. “Call in a potential missing child.” He flipped the photo over. There was no name. “Female Peterson. Age 6 to 10. Blond hair, blue eyes.” He handed the picture and ID to the officer and offered the few other pertinent details as he peeled off the gloves. “I’m not sure if she was with him or not, but best to be safe than sorry. See if we can’t have someone do some digging to find if the child is with a parent or guardian.”
“Yes, sir.”
The ambulance arrived and pulled up into the square. The EMTs jumped out, confusion on their faces. They eyed the pile of clothes and then looked at him, shrugging.
What the fuck do I tell them?
“He’s gone.”
“Runner?”
Ash pointed at the clothing. “Melter.”
Both EMTs stared at him like he’d grown another head.
Ash waved one human who was taking a video over. The guy came running, clearly eager to be in the know. “Did you catch it all?”
“Sure did. Man, that was gnarly.”
“Can you show us the video?”
The man frowned. “But then I have to stop rolling.”
“You poor thing.” He was tempted to yank the phone from the man’s hand, but there were other cameras trained on him and there was no way he was getting in trouble. “Can we please see what happened?”
“You were there, dude.”
Ash sighed. “No one’s going to believe me if I tell them what I witnessed.”
“True that. I barely believe what I saw, and I saw it with my own eyes.” The guy touched the screen of his iPhone before handing it over. “And I will remind you—just in case you view another video you shouldn’t—that weed is legal in the state of Massachusetts.”
Ash rolled his eyes, ignoring the comment, and showed the video to the EMTs. Only there was nothing there. He turned and handed the phone back. “Wrong video.”
The guy frowned and pulled it up. “Dude! What did you do with my video? Fucking cops, man.”
Ash glared, and the guy backed up. The human examined his phone but shook his head. “It’s gone. You deleted my video. Not cool.”
“I deleted nothing.”
Ash went from person to person who he’d witnessed taking video of the scene. Every single one of them were a blank void. A thought hit, and he pulled out his own phone. The images he’d taken of the glowing symbol were all black. He shoved his phone into his pocket and withdrew his notepad, attempting to recreate the symbol from memory.
Fairly sure he’d fucked it up, he sighed and shoved the pad into his pocket. He glanced at the patrolman nearby. “Gather any of the onlookers who witnessed what happened and get witness statements.”
“Witness statements for what?”
Ash turned to point at the liquified man—but he, or what was left of him, was gone. No clothing, no shoes, no goo. It was then that he noticed a heaviness in the air. A sucking sound came to his ears. Dizzy, he reached for a nearby lamppost to remain standing.
What the fuck?
He scanned the area, watching folks walking away in slow motion. The EMTs walked back to the ambulance and got inside, turned off their flashing lights and backed up, as if nothing had happened. Same for the patrolmen… and they appeared to be in a daze.
The situation was being erased in real time.
A popping sound stung Ash’s eardrums, and the heaviness lifted. Ash stood clutching the lamppost for a few moments, paralyzed from shock. What had he just experienced? Shaking his head, he rushed toward his own car and climbed behind the wheel. Before leaving the scene, he searched for a David Peterson from Paducah, Kentucky. No such person existed, at least, not the one he was looking for.
Insanity.
He called dispatch—pausing, unsure what to say. What could he say? They might think he was insane. Instead, he called in to end his shift before driving home at near breakneck speed. When he opened the door to his and Luca’s apartment, he was glad to find his mate home. Luca gave him one look before narrowing his eyes.
“You okay?”
“Very much, no.” Ash collapsed into the nearest chair and shook his head. “I’m not even sure I saw what I saw.”
Luca sat on the coffee table in front of him, elbows on knees. “Wanna talk about it?”
Ash lifted his gaze to Luca. His beautiful Luca. Of course, the witch would hate being described as beautiful, but how else could Ash categorize him? His face was almost too pretty, yet the angular features and strong nose balanced out the thick lashes and soft lips. Lips he craved in that moment. He didn’t want to repeat the events of his evening. Instead, he wanted to get lost in Luca.
He lifted one hand, the stubble on Luca’s cheek scratching the inside of his palm. “I love you. You know that, right?”
Luca frowned. “You’re scaring me.”
“Sorry. I just… I was reminded how quickly the end can come, and I wanted to make sure you understood how much I love you.”
Luca’s frown deepened, yet he offered a bemused smile, the dimple in his left cheek appearing. Ash ran his thumb over the dip. Luca collected the hand and pressed a kiss into the palm. “Come on, Ash. What’s up?”
He sighed before recounting the entire tale, hoping he wasn’t leaving anything out. When it was over, he pulled the image he’d drawn in his notepad out and handed it over. “Might it be a curse? It looked a little like the tattoos you guys do—only it glowed dark, if that makes sense. Really dark, and the glow was like black fire.”
“Can I show this to Atlas?”
“Yeah. Please do.”
“Maybe he can do some digging. Figure out what it is you witnessed.”
Ash shrugged. “Or tell me if I’m crazy.”
Luca smiled. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Ash’s. “You’re not crazy.”
“Yeah, but I know crazy. Between the monstrous shit humans do to one another and the bevy of supernatural creatures roaming this town, I thought I’d seen it all. Today proved me wrong.”
Luca rose and walked behind the chair. He massaged Ash’s shoulders. “A melting human. I’m sure that was troubling.”
“Troubling is an understatement.” Ash sighed, leaning back into the caress of Luca’s magical hands. “Hopefully it was a lone incident, but I have this weird sensation in my gut that it won’t be, and I don’t like it.”
“Your gut is rarely wrong.”
Ash nodded, hoping it was for once.
“I have some news of my own,” Luca murmured, continuing his massage.
“Hopefully better than mine.”
“Most definitely. I may have found our third.”
Ash stiffened. “What?”
Luca leaned forward, showing his mate’s mark. There was a tiny nub where the third swirl should be. “Has yours changed?”
Ash examined Luca’s symbol. He had one identical on his inner arm as well. It had started as a single swirl shape. When he’d met Luca, the swirl had become two. Witches in Luca’s coven mated in threes, so they realized one day they’d find their other swirl.
“Why a nub?”
“Atlas was watching a live stream earlier today, and I heard the guy’s voice and it just… I don’t know, I felt something. After I snuck a peek at the screen, my mark tingled, and the nub appeared.”
“Maybe because it was a live stream, and he wasn’t actually standing in front of you?”
“Could be. When we meet Colby for real, perhaps the nub becomes a swirl.”
Colby. A tremor raced up Ash’s spine. “When are we meeting him?”
“Fate will give us that chance soon enough.”
“Do you know where he lives?”
Luca scowled. “You do not toy with Fate. Remember what happened to Eli and Pierre?”
Ash had heard the story. One had used magic to seek their third—only to witness demons murder the human. He couldn’t imagine living with that knowledge every day. “I only meant—does he live close to us?”
Sure, it was a bit of a fib. He’d been ready to seek the man out.
