Eve of Darkness

He took the hit. It stung, but it was true. “I’ve never mentored before. I’m learning as I go.”



“Great.”



“I’m a quick study.” He glanced toward the lobby. Mrs. Basso was gone.



“You better be.” Sighing, she moved to the trunk of her car and opened it, retrieving her mail from earlier. “Or else we’re a sorry-assed pair.”



Alec grinned. There’d be no hysterics or drama from Eve. Bless her.



“Let’s go. We have a lot of work to do.” She headed toward the elevator with a determined stride. “And I have to think of something to say to my neighbor. How embarrassing is that?”



“Maybe she’ll act like nothing happened.” He followed, studying the way she moved and cataloging the self-defense techniques she might excel at. She had long, lithe legs and a hint of defined biceps. He thought kick-boxing might be good for a start.



“Ugh. I hate when people do that,” she complained. “I’d rather just get it out in the open and clear the air.”



Hard-charging, he thought fondly. That was his angel.



A soft mechanical whirring followed them, the sound of surveillance cameras keeping them doggedly in sight.



“Mom?” Eve called out as she pushed the door open.



“She’s not here,” her mother called back.



Relief filled her. She smiled at Alec, who just shook his head. As he set his helmet and keys on the console by the door, there was a sparkle of amusement in his eyes, but nothing could hide the set of his shoulders. They seemed weighted by the world.



Miyoko appeared from the hallway. Her feet were encased in Hello Kitty house slippers, her hair was in pigtails, and her arms were filled with freshly washed laundry. She looked like a teenager. “Are you hungry?”



Eve’s stomach growled its assent. “Lately, I’m always hungry.”



“Maybe you’re pregnant.”



“Mom!” Her protest was weak, her startled gaze moving to Alec. She’d missed taking her birth control pills for a week while she acclimated to the mark, and they’d burned up the sheets for hours . . .



Alec’s jaw clenched. He gave a curt shake of his head. But how could he be sure?



It wasn’t a question she could ask now.



“Unless you’re a nun or sterile,” her mother said, “it’s possible.”



Eve went to the kitchen. Decades of work as a registered nurse had made Miyoko brutally blunt when it came to discussing health matters. Setting her mail on the counter, Eve grabbed a soda from the fridge and wished a shot of rum would be worth the effort of pouring. Then she thought of babies and the effect of alcohol on them. She returned the soda to the fridge and grabbed a single-serving orange juice instead.



“Don’t leave those letters there,” her mother said, dropping the laundry on the couch before joining Eve in the kitchen.



“It’s my house, Mom,” Eve retorted, twisting the cap open and drinking deeply.



“Who cleans it?”



“Who asked you to? I keep my house clean, and I’m an adult. Don’t act like I can’t survive without you.”



Miyoko’s face turned into a mask. “I know you don’t need me. You never have.”



Alec walked into the kitchen. “How about I make some sandwiches?” he offered.



“I made onigiri,” her mother said tightly.



“Wonderful.” Alec set his hand on the curve of Eve’s waist. His voice was low and even in an attempt to soothe ruffled feathers. “I love onigiri.”



So did Eve, which is probably why her mother had made the little rice “balls” to begin with. Steamed rice flavored with various sprinkled seasonings called furikake were shaped into triangular patties. Eve had grown up on them, and they’d always been a relished treat.



Closing her eyes, Eve exhaled slowly. She hated feeling defensive around her mother. After all these years, she should be able to brush off the occasional pointing out of her shortcomings, but her mother had always been able to trigger volatile responses in her. One moment condescending and critical, the next cheerful and praising. Eve knew their chafing was due partly to culture clash. Her mother had come to the States in her midtwenties and she returned to Japan for annual visits. While she was a naturalized American citizen now, Miyoko was still a Japanese woman at her core.



“I’m sorry, Mom,” Eve said, setting her drink down and leaning heavily into the counter. Not for the first time, she made a small wish for a smoother relationship with her own children when she had them. “I’m having a really bad day. I appreciate everything you do.”



Her mother stood there for the length of several heartbeats, her small frame tense with indignation and hurt. “Does your crabby mood have something to do with your new job?”



“How did you know about that?” Eve was superstitious—she didn’t like to share anything good that wasn’t a sure thing.



“I’m your mother. I know things.”



Eve groaned inwardly.



“Someone stopped by while we were gone?” Alec asked, reaching into the container on the counter and pulling out a rice cake liberally sprinkled with beefsteak furikake. He handed it to Eve, then picked out another wrapped in seasoned nori—seaweed—for himself.



“Yes. Two young men. They left a briefcase and a box for you.”



Straightening, Eve asked, “Where is it?”



“I put it in your office.”



“Did they say anything?”



“They were very nice.” Miyoko managed a smile. “I made some coffee, and they talked a little about Mr. Gadara’s accomplishments. It sounds like a wonderful opportunity for you.”



Eve shivered at the thought of Gadara’s men around her mother, charming and impressing her. Winning her over. Snakes in the grass.



“So it that why you’re grumpy?” her mother repeated. “Changing jobs is one of the most stressful events a person can go through. You need to take more vitamin B.”



“That’s part of it.” All of it. She glanced at Alec, who eyed her orange juice with odd intensity.



“You didn’t tell me you were thinking about quitting.” Miyoko’s tone was peeved.



“I didn’t want to jinx it. Working for Gadara Enterprises is a monster leap, and I wasn’t sure I would make it. Besides, I only had an interview.”



“And it turned into an offer?” Her mother wiped the spotless counter with a dishtowel. “You shouldn’t be so surprised. You’re beautiful and smart. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”



Eve’s irritation fled completely. “Thank you.”



Miyoko shrugged. “It’s the truth. Is he Jewish? Or Middle Eastern?”



“Gadara? He’s African-American. Why?”



“His name. It’s in the Bible.”



“It is?” She glanced at Alec, who was reaching for another onigiri.



“Gadara is the place where Christ turned demons into swine,” he explained before taking a bite.



“Did he pick that himself?”



“Who picks their own name?” Miyoko shook her head. “Aside from celebrities. Anyway, I’m going to finish the laundry and go home.”



“Is Dad coming back today?”



“Tomorrow, but there are things I have to do.”



Eve sighed, feeling terrible for having hurt her mother’s feelings. “I wish you would stay.”



“You have a guest. You don’t need me.”



“I don’t have to need you to want you around, Mom.”



“Not today.” Miyoko rounded the island the opposite way and returned to the living room. She sat on the couch and folded laundry.



Alec rubbed between Eve’s shoulder blades. “You okay?”



“No. My life sucks.”



“I can help you forget about it for a while,” he purred softly.



She pivoted and faced him head on. Her mouth opened, then shut again. The kitchen wasn’t the place to talk about sex and the inevitable ramifications of it. Her hand fisted in his shirt and she tugged him to her office.



“I’m sterile,” he said curtly before she could speak.



She gaped. Alec was the most virile man she’d ever come across. “W-what?”



“I watched you exchange the soda for orange juice. You’re not pregnant.”



Hurt straightened her spine. He said the words with such finality, his dark gaze cold and remote, his lips thinned.



“God forbid, right?” Her mouth curved in a mocking smile. “You wouldn’t want the complication, I’m sure.”



“Don’t tell me what I want,” he snapped. “There is nothing Heaven or Hell can dish out that is as painful as the loss of a child. Still, I might go through it again for you. But there’s no chance, Eve.”



“Why?”



“I almost lost my mind when the last of my children died. I said things to God that I regret. I couldn’t understand why I had to be punished in that way, too. Why I had to live interminably while my children lived mortal lives.”



Her throat clenched in sympathy. “Alec . . .”



“God did forbid it, angel.” His arms crossed. “The mark sterilizes everyone now. Female Marks don’t menstruate and the males shoot blanks.”



Time froze for a moment, then rushed at Eve in a deluge. Years of dreams and hopes washed over her in a flood of tears that escaped in a hot stream down her face. “Will I get it back?”



“I don’t know. Eve—” His entire frame vibrated. If she breathed deep enough, she could smell the turbulence in him. Alec was a man who felt as if every move he made was the wrong one. Another mistake in a lifetime of mistakes. He was passionate, impulsive, and headstrong.



But could she blame him for what was happening to her? He couldn’t have foreseen how the decisions he made for himself would impact others. Bad shit happened to people. Rapes, beatings, muggings, abuse . . . and countless other horrifying things. Miscarriages, accidents, starvation. But being a victim was a choice one made, and Eve refused to be a victim.