Edge of Darkness by J. T. Geissinger Read Free Book Online Page B

she just shook her head, laughing.
    “Okay, I give. What’s her name?”
    Because there was always a name when Asher donned a costume. At his Halloween bash last year when he’d dressed as a nun from the Order of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, his name had been Helen Bed. Hell-in-bed. Where he came up with these little gems, Ember had no idea.
    He grinned. “Carmen MiRambo.”
    Ember blinked at him. “You’re right. That is genius.” Looking him over again, she said, “Where are you hiding your wallet in that getup?”
    He blinked demurely, but his rogue’s grin grew wider. “You don’t want to know.”
    “No. You’re right. I really don’t.” She smiled and gave him a kiss on one ruddy cheek, then unlocked her apartment door and turned back to him. “Be safe tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    He looked crestfallen. “You’re not coming out? But it’s tradition! And I wanted you to meet Rafael!”
    Interested, Ember leaned her shoulder against the doorjamb. Since Asher’s long-term partner Sebastian had died last year, he’d developed an ironclad rule never to get serious with anyone again. He claimed he needed to make up for being with just one man for so long, and so was going to dedicate himself to sampling every young thing Barcelona offered up, but Ember knew better. It was really his way of staying detached, because no one could ever measure up to Sebastian. And Asher didn’t want anyone to. Bas had been the love of Asher’s life. Deep down, he didn’t think he could bear that kind of loss again.
    There are only so many times a heart can break, Ember, before it’s broken for good.
    He’d said that the first week she met him. And she knew from personal experience it was true.
    “Rafael? Is this your new flavor-of-the-week?”
    Asher playfully batted her on the arm with his plastic gun and did a happy dance in the hallway, which included a twirl that dangerously flared the mini skirt. She quickly averted her eyes—Asher was infamous for going commando.
    “Flavor-of-the-month if I play my cards right, honey. Please come. Please? Pretty please?”
    Each entreaty grew progressively louder…and ultimately proved disastrous. From downstairs came a hollered, “ Septiembre! Es que se? ”
    Ember hissed a curse, Asher gasped an apology, and they both scuttled into her apartment just as the sound of shuffling, slipper-clad footsteps began to travel up the stairs.
    “Dante!” Asher said in a stage whisper as they stood with their ears pressed to the back of the door in her dark apartment.
    “You’ve officially woken the beast,” Ember muttered. “Thanks a million, Carmen.”
    Even in the dark she saw him cringe. “God, that man has hearing like a bat! I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Come out with me tonight and I’ll buy you as many—”
    Her glare stopped him before he could say “drinks as you want.” It was force of habit, all his friends drank like fish, Asher included, but Ember never touched a drop. He amended it to, “ —chopitos as you can eat.”
    She sighed. “You know I hate chopitos , Ash.”
    “Honey, they’re so good. Don’t discriminate based on how they look—”
    “They look like fried alien afterbirth. I am not putting fried alien afterbirth in my mouth.”
    “They’re chewy, and salty, and entirely delicious. Close your eyes if you have to, it works for me.”
    “Ugh. Gross. Forget it. I’d rather eat toe jam.”
    Asher snickered. “There’s a whole underground fetish movement in this city devoted to exactly that, you know.”
    “Double gross! Stop talking before I barf on your shiny combat boots.”
    The two of them were whispering, listening to the slow, shuffling footsteps draw inexorably nearer as Dante climbed the staircase. The apartment building was old, and lacked an elevator, a fact she was now grateful for. The reprieve would be short—though Dante moved slowly, once he decided on a course an act of God couldn’t deter him—but any