She eased back onto her side. “You’re fighting me too hard.”
“Even a witch—as lovely as you are—does not have infinite power.”
“True. But we all must give in at some point.”
He nodded. What had she placed in him? He felt different, like the weight lifted from his shoulders for just a moment.
The feeling didn’t seem to go away. He smiled. “I don’t know what to say.”
She blinked. “This is what I do. I ease others with my power.”
He remembered the last time she’d drawn a huge amount of energy and how she reacted. Glad to meet him, yes. But the effects of all that anger from the crowd, all that frustration had to wear her down. He took her hand in his. “Won’t that affect you?”
Sonja shook her head and pursed her lips together. “It’s not usually immediate. It should be, but I’m not picking up the normal amount of trashed energy. I…it’s odd.”
She did this every night and people unknowingly paid for it. They thought they were buying tickets to a show, and they were getting a show all right. The power she wielded nightly must drain her. “You’ll never quit performing, will you?”
She rolled onto her side and met his stare. “Maybe when I’m dead. Otherwise, any man in my life, if there ever comes a point when I can settle down, had better understand music is my passion. I can’t thrive without it. Plus, what good is my power if I can’t use it to help the world ease its suffering?”
His heart sank. He’d never ask her to quit performing, her band was good and she was outstanding. Plus, the secret of her success had a lot to do with her power helping others. But she’d just admitted to not being ready for a relationship. Why that hurt him was beyond him, but he still felt a blow to his chest. “You make a good point. You have a good heart, Sonja.”
“Thank you.” Again, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
Before she picked up his disappointment, Derrick shut the door on that thought, looked at the clock, then back at the ceiling. Max would probably be home soon and they had at least an hour and a half, might as well relax. “Rest, babe. It’s going to be an interesting night.”
She rolled onto her other side and settled in against his body.
He wrapped an arm around her and promised silently that no matter what, he’d keep her safe. Then he heard the gentle sounds of her deep breathing as she fell asleep.
Good. He wondered if it had been the first time in a while that she fell quickly into a slumber.
It didn’t matter. Only protecting her right now did. If there was time later, he’d ask those questions. If she was going to pick up the crap he carried, she’d need to rest, because what she tried to pull from him should cause quite a problem. Again, he pondered the possibility of being a filter for her, how the centering helped when they touched. At least that was immediate. But for now, she needed to rest in probably the safest place in the country. He’d lay with the woman who found a way into his heart, despite the reality of them not being able to be together.
* * *
Sonja stepped through the doors into the club with Derrick on her arm. All black suited him. The fedora pulled down low over his head hid deep purple eyes. He’d shaved and the look emphasized his masculine jawline. The suit fit him perfectly. Heels clicked along a marble floor.
Bodies swayed to the thunderously annoying beat of techno. Sonja thought she’d retch, but Derrick kept his arm around her as he guided her through the club. The monumental amount of humans and shifters that came to these annoying clubs surprised her. Fake music; crappy, repetitive lyrics; and the shallow crowd made her squirm.
Derrick’s hand pressed at the small of her back, heat ran through her. She turned and met his gaze. “The dress looks beautiful on you.”
She scoffed. The dress made her feel more exposed. “I hate it.”
“'At least it’s black.” He offered a smile that held more than kindness.
After shopping all day, she’d been forced to settle on something black, sleek, revealing, and sexy. She had no problem showing off ample cleavage, but she didn’t like the feeling of openness that the material gave her.
Jeans and leather made her feel more protected, and they provided more cover against people’s emotions. With Derrick here, she felt somewhat safer despite her reservations over clothing choice. She kept waiting for the blast of his mental issues from the stunt she’d pulled earlier to hit her with full force, but it hadn’t so far. Their relationship was growing odd; that was for sure. At least the protective spell she placed around his heart would let her keep tabs on him once this was all over and they went their separate directions.
But still, the openness made her think of how vulnerable she was.
Especially with Derrick running his fingers along her naked skin. The move sent shivers up her spine.
With red locks pulled back and piled atop her head, loose curls fell around her face, framing it. Dark purple lipstick contrasted against her pale skin and the eyeliner she wore gave her an exotic look. Long eyelashes fluttered when she blinked.
Derrick licked his lips at the sight. “You do look ravishing.”
Music continued to pound loudly. Funny, for a death metal singer, the base and drumbeats in this club irritated her. She sighed. “What are we supposed to do here? I don’t dance. Not like this, anyway.”
“Blend in.” He bent down low, ran his tongue along her jaw. A shudder raced through her.
She smelled the feral scent of Derrick’s beast hovering near, stalking the club scene. Good thing she wasn’t the only one who hated being here.
Derrick didn’t look out of place, but he’d never be found here either.
The tempo of the music switched up and thumping bass grooves kicked in. Lyrics that made no sense assaulted Sonja’s ears.
A waiter came by with two glasses of champagne.
She snagged one.
The waiter looked a little nonplussed until she grinned at him with that I’ll-kill-you look.
He scurried back to the bar.
She took a sip of the cool champagne. Exquisite, honey-like flavors bubbled over her tongue.
Then a hand captured hers.
She looked over the rim of the glass to see Derrick’s wicked grin. “Come on, let’s go find a table and order a bottle or two of this stuff.”
She nodded and downed the glass. Even with her inability to get a complete grasp of her power, she still could handle quite a bit of alcohol. It was a blessing some nights.
Derrick led her to a table and they took a seat. Strobe lights flashed, a disco ball spun and reflected glittery images from the lights shining around it. Low-level halogen lights lined the walls of the club while red tablecloths tastefully draped over tables too small for elbowroom or even a few drinks.
Another waiter walked by. Derrick raised his arm to snag the man dressed in black. “Bottle of champagne. We’ll take the finest.”
He nodded and headed toward the bar.
Derrick looked back at Sonja and his scalding gaze returned and started to burn into her skin. She couldn’t forget their earlier sessions, both of them were wonderful, fulfilling. But he wore his heart on his sleeve and it disoriented her.
Not because he’d thrown his love out for her, but because someone honestly gave a shit about her. That scared her the most. Her life had been built around magic and contained a great deal of death. She chose her career because it allowed her to stay in the realm of death and make an impact.
But if she had a partner, what then?
She shuddered to think of the threats on his life.
Powerful, Derrick’s puma had resolve. There weren’t that many pumas in Northern California. And she’d be surprised to find any here in Miami.
She scanned the room, looking for other shifters. Several hovered over a table in the far corner of the club. They had what looked like a great view of the place.
Beady eyes, shifty auras, and suits customized to hide handguns. Great.
/> Derrick took her hand and stroked her palm with his thumb. The man in the corner looked familiar.
Sparks ignited between him and Sonja, distracting her.
“You smell anything unusual?”
He leaned into her, took a whiff, and shrugged. “Nothing but your arousal.”
She smirked. “Seriously?”
He shook his head. “There’s too much perfume in the air.”
She motioned with her eyes toward the shifters. “What about them?”
Derrick’s gaze trailed down the line of her body. Heat flooded her cheeks and moisture pooled between her thighs. She hated wearing the thin thong to cover her as it served once again to remind her of her vulnerability. The thin fabric became soaked pretty quickly.
Derrick moved into her while keeping an eye on the shifters she’d pointed out. “I smell gunpowder. If I had to guess, they’re packing, but that’s typical around here.”
“Yeah.” She snorted. “Everyone in Miami is either a gangbanger or from a drug cartel, right?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. First time here. I say we make some friends.”
The bottle of champagne arrived then, as did two glasses, both full. “On the house.” The waiter bowed and left the bottle on ice.
“That seems odd.” Derrick raised his glass, smelled it.
Just as Sonja brought the glass to her lips, Derrick shook his head no. “Don’t.”
He grabbed her arm and slammed the glass to the table.
It shattered.
She scowled and glared at him. “What the fuck, man?”
He eyed the bastard in the corner, then met Sonja’s angry glare. “It’s been drugged.”
Her eyes widened. His monotone voice would have made anyone else afraid. She on the other hand, took shit from other males and gave it right back in spades. “The entire bottle?”
He picked it up and took a sniff. “Nope. It seems clean.” He took a sip directly from the bottle.
And she didn’t think he could be crude. At least someone around here had some spirit. She gazed around at the others and noticed even more fakeness: auras filled with suspicion, lies, deceit, slovenly lust, and worse.
Derrick coughed “It’s clean. But…” He set the bottle down. “I think we should make some new friends.”
“You mean the other shifters at that table?”
He nodded. “Yeah. You ready?”
The expression on his face showed concern. Sonja was glad for it, she didn’t like being here, but this was apparently a necessity. She took the bottle from him and stood. “Let’s go.”
Leading the way to the other shifters, she walked in her heels with the confidence of a woman who knew what she wanted. Derrick’s gaze never left the swish of her ass except when it traveled up the line of her back and burned heat into exposed flesh.
She didn’t mind being ogled by him. In fact, with him so close, it helped her keep her head on straight while the crowd’s emotions swarmed around her.
Derrick kept his hand on the rise of her ass, spreading his fingers apart possessively.
She had trouble keeping her mind focused when he was close and it had nothing to do with what he projected.
When they got within ten feet, two armed goons stood and blocked their path. “Excuse me, but we’re not a party table.”
Derrick tensed behind her. She swore she heard his fangs lengthen. “Too bad we didn’t request your care for our private audience.” She let out a little of her magic and it floated in her voice.
The eyes of both goons glazed over.
“Move.” She spoke the one word in a low growl.
Just like that, the two men moved and gave her a view of the three men and one woman sitting at the table. “We brought drinks. Do we get to sit now?”
The man in the center had a square face with cropped gray hair. Steel-blue eyes narrowed. He pressed thick fingers together and squared his shoulders. “And who are you that you can invade private space?”
“Just some friends, that’s all.” She pulled out a chair and flipped it around with one hand. Slamming the champagne bottle against the table loud enough for the sound to ricochet off the other shifter’s ears, she glared back at the old man in front of her.
Hostility poured off him in waves.
Derrick’s hand on her shoulder helped calm her against the steady flow of hatred coming her way. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about our drinks being drugged, would you?”
His lip twitched.
Derrick bent low. “If you do, I suggest you talk. If not, it could get ugly. I may feel the need to expose you here.”
The Russian held up his hands. “I’m a bit confused. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I am simple businessman.” He spoke with a curt tone and heavy Russian accent.
“Dirty bear.” Derrick’s arm flew past Sonja so fast she almost missed it. “I’m not amused. I happen to know exactly how much your pathetic little empire is worth. And if you’d like me to start telling everyone here who you are so they can take aim at you…” He let the words trail off.
From the corner of her eye, Sonja saw the angry scowl Derrick wore. Emotionally, he’d managed to keep himself in check though she picked up strong protectiveness, rather than abject hatred.
Derrick yanked the man over the table. His eyes widened and fear poured off him in waves. His lips trembled. “You.”
The two men by his side reached into their jackets.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Sonja let more magic, with the strong urge for compliance, slip into the air.
The two relaxed their hands and sat back down. “How?” The man on her right with jet-black hair and a tiny ponytail had Latin features. He seemed stunned while his partner definitely looked confused. He kept glancing in different directions; searching for the reason that he put his gun down.
Sonja made sure to keep that same flow of power in her voice. She reached down into her well, imagined it bottomless, and continued pulling in a steady stream. To guard against the bear shifter’s shock, she put up magical defenses around Derrick and her, though most likely he wouldn’t need them. The aura of vitriolic hatred coming from the bear would wreak havoc with her later. For now, she would deal. “Let’s just say I have a gift for persuasion. Now answer my friend here.”
“You don’t know who you’re messing with.”
“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a goddamn. I understand you’re the reason I nearly died. I don’t like nearly dying. I don’t like the idea of death at all but I’m willing to execute it if it’ll get me my desired goals. So, start talking to my friend.” She balled her fists, punched the man in the gut.
Derrick squeezed his neck just a little harder.
The old man in front of her started choking.
Derrick let him go. “I am much faster than all three of you. Remember that.”
“You’re…” The old man coughed. “I thought you were dead.”
Derrick only nodded. He took a seat beside Sonja and put his hand on her thigh beneath the table. “Retired.” Derrick glared. “Now talk.”
The old man held a hand up for the two flanking him to remain seated. He straightened his dark blue suit coat and rolled his shoulders. “I have a lot of connections around here. I heard there’s a big bounty on your head…and his. Someone slipped me a tip, told me what to do, and gave me a little pass when inspectors seized a shipment of ours. That is all I will say here.”
* * *
Derrick pulled a card from his pocket and tossed it across the table. “Call me when you can tell me more. We’ll be in touch. Mark my words, I will find you and prove what the rumors say about me.” He stood, sliding his hand up Sonja’s thigh, belly, and over a shoulder. “Let’s go, honey.”
Sonja grabbed the bottle, took a swig from it, and stood beside Derrick. She eyed him carefully.
He kept his guard up, but made sure to let only the safe emotions through, the protectiveness, the concern for her w
ell-being, and just enough danger to let the others know he meant business. So far, she hadn’t reacted to any of his mess, not now or earlier. Good.
Lowering his hand to the small of her back, he rested his thumb and index finger across the top of her round ass. A finger trailed lightly over the thin material covering her ass while pressing into her crack.
She faked a giggle and glared at him. Then she took another swig from the champagne bottle.
He sighed and led them away, well aware that she needed to walk in front of him so she could keep the angry emotions off her.
They found another empty table in the back of the club.
The music had switched beats again. Derrick watched her jaw tick, saw her nervously hold the bottle of champagne. She brought it to her mouth, took another huge swig, and set it on the table.
A moment passed and she reached for the bottle again.
“No.” He stopped her. His hand covered hers, dwarfing her.
She looked into his eyes and it all became clear. This wasn’t another death threat, someone put out a mob hit on her. Not like she was new to these things, but the seriousness of it was beginning to finally sink in. “We’ve gotta get out of here.”
She nodded. “Yeah. I need to get clean.”
He hardened at the prospect of helping her rid her body of toxicity even as his mind knew she really needed to be held.
“Come on. Let’s go back to Max’s. He bought me a burner and that’s the number on the card. I’m sure within six hours we’ll get a phone call.”
She nodded and they made their way out of the club.
Chapter Seven
The second they made it through the doors of Max’s large loft, Sonja slipped out of the dress and headed toward the shower.
She left the heels, dress, and panties in a pile on the floor in such a hurry that Derrick wondered how much she had taken in from the crowd. Of course, it could have been the fear of being poisoned. She said she was used to this but he had to wonder just how used to threats on one’s life a person got.
He knew. There were spooks that still haunted his dreams even after he’d reassured himself that they’d been eliminated. Just because shifters were stronger in many arenas than humans didn’t make them immune to mental anguish.
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