“Night Emily,” Susan called from the information counter.
“Night Sus,” I waved walking out the door.
I closed my eyes enjoying the cool night breeze that greeted me. With a contented sigh I walked out watching people pass in a hurry. It was getting close to Christmas and downtown was a bustle of shoppers.
I merged into the pedestrian traffic making my way east toward the bus stop. After about a block off of Main Street I saw less and less people. It was about that time that I first noticed him.
He was a good thirty paces behind be but as I weaved the familiar streets he never waivered. I glanced back judgingly. He was tall and broad shouldered wearing a well tailored black suit.
He had platinum blond hair kept short and slicked back. His eyes caught mine and I was startled by the bright almost neon green color. His lips curled into a predatory style and I walked faster.
I saw the bus stop ahead and smiled in relief that the driver was early. I climbed on and the old man smiled warmly.
“’Ello miss,” he greeted.
“Hello Ernie,” I grinned depositing the money. My eyes moved down the buses windows and I saw the man draw near.
“Everything all right miss?” Ernie asked judging me with soft gray eyes hidden behind fuzzy eyebrows.
“Uh yeah fine,” I assured walking back to a seat. My eyes passed over the few passengers. An elder woman in the front clutched her shopping bag to her chest as if I’d steal it. I walked past her and noticed a Goth looking guy lounging with his guitar case.
He had jet black hair spiked in all directions and a long flat strip down his left eye. He glanced up and I stiffened beneath his bright blue gaze. I heard Ernie greet someone and looked back at the suit. His eyes hit mine sharply and I walked faster toward the back of the bus.
I felt him following me and as I passed the musician he stood up tossing his guitar case along his back on its sling. “Hello duckett,” he greeted warmly putting himself between me and the stranger.
“Hey,” I breathed in relief.
“Glad you made it babe I was beginning to worry, you want to sit in the back?” he queried glancing back slightly at the guy.
“You don’t mind?” I asked and he gave me a grin following me to the very back seat.
I sat near the window and the musician slid off his guitar case setting it down blocking us in. I watched the suit sit down half way back and let out a ragged breath.
“Name’s Justin by the way, Justin Stone,” he introduced holding out a black nail polished hand. I shook it firmly.
“Emily. Emily James,” I murmured.
“So who’s the suit? An ex-bo?” he queried.
“No,” I whispered. “He just kind of followed me from work. It freaked me out but it could be nothing.”
“Better safe then sorry,” he observed and I nodded. “So where’s your stop?” he asked after we made a few and the suit didn’t leave.
“Saint Alexander,” I admitted and he gave a low whistle.
“Long track,” he groaned. “Listen I’ll make a deal with you. If the suit doesn’t get off within the next five drops why don’t you come with me to the Den. You can watch my set and then I’ll see you safely home.”
“That’s very kind of you Justin but I don’t want to impose on you,” I breathed glancing back at the blond. His eyes hit mine knowingly and my stomach dropped as it looked like he mouthed Alexander.
Justin reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear capturing my attention. “It’s no imposition darlin’,” he promised, “Although you’ll need a change of clothes.” He tugged on the sleeve of my white business coat.
“Not emo enough for the Den?” I queried and he smirked. “I do appreciate this,” I sighed. “He really tweaks me out.”
“Go with your gut love, too many women get hurt or worse with the ‘I’m sure it’s nothing,’ crap,” Justin retorted and I nodded.
“Yeah ok,” I agreed. “Let’s see if I can get Goth enough,” I said unbuttoning the white jacket and sliding off my satchel with the coat.
“Damn girl,” he groaned taking me in. I glanced down at the sleeveless low v-neck silk under shirt with ruffles.
“What it’s black,” I assured and his lips twitched in a half smirk.
“Still a little too chic,” he replied looking at the knee length black skirt. I lifted my hips and gave the waist band a few rolls. “Stockings?” he gasped and I blushed darkly jerking the skirt down one. He dropped his hand to my knee brushing his thumb along the stocking. “Silk stockings?” he corrected.
“Justin,” I warned.
“Sorry Emily,” he chuckled removing his hand. His gaze moved down me again. “Better but . . .”
I reached back and took the clip out of my hair letting it fall around my shoulders in waves. I tucked the jacket and the clip into the satchel.
Justin reached up and pulled the waves forward around my face judgingly. “You got any makeup in that bag of tricks?”
“A little,” I muttered and he grinned wickedly.
“Lipstick?” he teased sitting back. I watched him gaze at the man darkly. I reached in and pulled out the lipstick handing it to him. “Very nice,” he cooed. “Eyes closed Emily. You got a nickname duckett?”
“Sus calls me Em,” I breathed and he chuckled.
My eyes closed lightly and I felt the brush of his little finger at the corner of my mouth as he steadied his hand applying the crimson lipstick Sus had given me, for the just in case man.
His finger moved up and he brushed the color over my eye lids. “One last thing,” he called and I blinked my eyes open. He unlatched one of his spike bracelets and placed it on my wrist locking it on tightly.
“So will I pass?”
“I don’t think they’ll spot you for a lily but your high end babe and will probably have to deal with a little unwanted attention. Beyond that you should be golden,” he stated.
“I think I could handle that better than the other,” I admitted glancing back at the blond.
“Next stop the Den,” he said tossing his arm around my shoulder strumming down my bare arm absently. “Stay on my right duckett. I don’t want boy-o even having a chance to touch you.”
“Thanks for doing this Justin,” I murmured, “never quite met a stranger like you.”
“Strange as they come,” he grinned. “Got to admit I never met a dame in a suit who wouldn’t clutch her purse walking past me.”
“Fair enough,” I nodded watching the man darkly as we neared the next stop. “How long is your set?”
“Shouldn’t be to long,” he promised, “depends on the crowd.”
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