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The nickname pops into my head unbidden, settling with a sense of permanence.

Nora’s a siren made to tempt me, to draw me in with the song of her very being. I could be anywhere in any of the seven seas, and she’d be the light that always beckons me back to shore.

She steps into the elevator, and losing her warmth against my palm leaves me immediately unmoored.

Why didn’t I ask her to go out tonight? Or better yet, right now. I’d cancel the rest of my plans for the day to have another five minutes with her.

Nora presses the button to take her down to the lobby, then takes a step back to stand in the middle of the elevator. She crosses her arms over her chest and looks at me thoughtfully.

“Tomorrow night?” she asks.

“Tomorrow night,” I confirm.

“Alright then, kraken. It’s a date.”

The elevator doors close, and the last image I have of Nora is a soft smile and the smallest glint of a challenge in her hazel eyes.

It’s a date, indeed.

7

Nora

I’m going on a date with a kraken.

Standing in front of the closet in my studio apartment, I stare at my limited wardrobe selections. What do you wear on a date with a kraken?

Elias promised we wouldn’t do anything too elaborate, but I'm taking that with a grain of salt. Too curious to resist, I spent an hour searching for him last night online.

The kraken is rich as hell.

There’s not much written about him before congress passed the Paranormal Acts, but tons of magazine and newspaper articles published after paint him as a brilliant businessman.

Morgan-Blair is staffed mainly by paranormals, and if the articles are anything to go by, Elias and Blair worked for years in the shadows of the company to build it into what it is today. Successful, sprawling, and focused on giving each of its employees a stake in ownership. Over a hundred years’ worth of work, though he didn’t get to come forward and take credit for any of it until after the passage of the Acts.

Also according to the articles, he’s over three hundred years old. He’s lived lifetimes, seen times and places I can’t even fathom, and now he wants… me? The idea is enough to make my head spin.

I try not to think about it too hard as I pick out a dark gray, long-sleeved knit dress, a pair of black tights, and a belt. Simple, somewhat casual, but also dressy enough if we end up somewhere fancy.

As I finish getting ready, I keep reminding myself to remain calm. Like Elias said, this is just a date. There’s no pressure. If I decide it’s not for me, if I decidehe’snot for me, that’s it. I can walk away from all of this and never look back.

I have to trust he’s being honest with me about that, otherwise none of this is going to work out.

Taking one last look in the mirror and deciding I’ve cleaned up as well as I’m going to, I take a few more calming deep breaths, grab my jacket, and head out the door.

It’s a forty-five minute bus ride downtown, and although it’s not raining yet, the sky is heavy with clouds as I get off at my stop and walk to the spot Elias texted me to meet him at. We’re pretty close to Pike Place Market, just a couple blocks away from the water, and despite all my nerves, I find I’m getting unexpectedly excited to see him with each passing moment.

It feels… good, to be putting myself back out there. Scary, but good.

All the weird pressures about the mating thing aside, this is my first first date in years, and a small part of me is just proud of myself for doing it at all.

Rounding a street corner, I find Elias waiting just where he said he would be, dressed in a soft-looking, deep green sweater, dark jeans, and a well-tailored coat.

God, he’s handsome.

I’ve thought so since the day I saw him at the Bureau, but having the time to really get a look at him without panicking—well, without panickingmuch—drives that point home all the more clearly.

He looks way more put together tonight than he did the first time I saw him, and much less intimidating than he did all suited up as a CEO at his office, but even clean-shaven and with his hair styled a bit more casual, he still can’t shake the whole pirate vibe. The scar and the wicked gleam in his blue eyes make that impossible.