Dark Desire: Dark Series 2

by Lauren Dawes

  Slowly, and with very calculated movements, Galen sat up. He stared hard into those eyes, thinking he’d seen a flicker of green in their dark depths.

  Craine took his seat again, steepling his fingers under his chin and staring harmlessly at Galen. “I want you to leave in two days’ time. I want you to gather as much intel as you can. Make sure you’re seen. Make sure they know who you are. Am I making myself clear?”

  “Crystal.”

  “Good.” Craine stood up, holstered his piece and walked around his desk. “I’ll be expecting a call from you by the end of the week with good news.”

  Chapter 19

  Mason squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts … and to keep his brain from fucking imploding. There was a lot noise tonight—both in his ears and inside his head. There must have been about a hundred gods and demigods down on level one of the Eye, laughing and spilling their drinks while chatting to the humans.

  His eyes skimmed over the crowd again. Although he wanted to tune every damn voice out, he had to be vigilant. Korvain had given him the same spiel as before about listening out for Darrion’s name in all the chatter, but so far he hadn’t heard anything more interesting than how some god was going to fuck a woman against the bathroom wall.

  Bryn was back at the bar, sitting at the end like she always did, watching the crowd in the mirrored-glass splashback behind the bar. Mist wasn’t there, but Taer was, pulling bottles from the small under-the-counter fridges and pouring drinks.

  Although she seemed a little frayed around the edges, the girl was holding her own against the demands of the crowd. Forcing his eyes away, Mason watched the trickle of people Mav was letting through. He could usually tell by looking whether they were human or not. Just to make sure, he concentrated on them, confirming his suspicions when their thoughts started broadcasting loud and fucking clear in his head.

  “Hey, am I good to go on my break?” the other bouncer for level one asked.

  “Yeah, take it now.”

  The bouncer moved towards the “Staff Only” door as Mason scanned the immediate area again. A scream at the rear of the bar brought his head around. There was another shout, and a fleshy-sounding hit followed closely after it. He had been around enough testosterone-filled men to know what had just kicked off.

  “Fuck!” he cursed, moving towards the fight. He should have seen it coming. Two men were throwing sloppy, drunken punches at each other, while two women were screeching at them to stop, slinging insults at each other in between breaths.

  With one hand, Mason grabbed one of the men, pulling him off the other one, while still trying to keep his woman away with his free hand.

  The other man, who had recovered from the last strike, was up on his feet again. He approached Mason and the man he was currently holding on to, a look of fierce determination in his eyes.

  “Back the fuck up,” Mason warned in a low voice. He took a moment to look around. Where the fuck was everybody else? Backup should have been streaming in by now.

  The first guy wasn’t listening, though. Mason had two choices: let the other guy go to grab the first one, or allow himself to get punched in the face for this asshole. The guy in his grasp was wriggling, trying to break free so that he could go for round two.

  Fuck.

  Mason looked up in time to see a meaty fist coming in his direction. The bastard had swung wide, catching him just above his eye. The gaudy college class ring the guy was wearing caught Mason on the eyebrow. The sharp sting told him the skin had broken. Blood was now trickling down the side of his face.

  Mason recovered and stood up to see the guy coming at him again. Unable to block this second attack, Mason closed his eyes instinctively, but seconds passed, and nothing had happened. So Mason opened one lid … and then another.

  A guy Mason had never laid eyes on before was standing behind the other man, a thick forearm wrapped around his throat. After a long beat, Mason snapped back into action.

  “You and your buddy are out of here,” he said forcefully into the human’s ear, hauling him towards the door. The guy who had saved his ass followed behind him, and the two women trailed after them, still arguing over who had started what.

  He handed the men off to Mav, who promptly pushed them out the door, the two squabbling women tripping out into the street after them.

  Mason turned back to the guy who had helped him out, offering him his palm. “Thanks, man. I owe you.”

  As they shook, Mason took a peek inside his head, out of instinct, his neck tingling when he saw what the guy was.

  “It’s no problem. You can return the favor by getting me an audience with your boss.”

  Mason eyed the man. “And who the fuck are you?” Suspicion laced his voice.

  The male smiled, but the action didn’t reach his eyes. “Forgive my bad manners. My name’s Galen and I have a business proposition.”

  Chapter 20

  Eir wiped the steam from the mirror, staring at her reflection in the slightly fogged-up glass. She was still bothered by how the doctor had treated Mr. Adamsen the previous day. She was also a little sad. Even though she didn’t know the man, she had felt his pain. She knew what he was suffering, and that she could only really give him temporary relief from the pain.

  Carefully, she toweled off the rest of her body, drying her hair and pulling it back into a loose chignon to keep it out of the way. Once she was dressed, she wandered into the living room, sat down and stared at the blank screen of the TV. It was too quiet, and although quiet was what she wanted, Eir realized she didn’t want to be alone either.

  She sighed. She hadn’t really done much socializing since Kristy had died, focusing all her attention on work instead. She knew this was her way of grieving, but she had to stop it and come back to the real world.

  She changed out of her pajamas and into jeans and a white blouse before walking back down to the elevator at the end of the hall. Pressing the down arrow, she waited for the car to arrive.

  It hummed as it descended, the sound relaxing her, but when she stepped out and headed for the main body of the bar, the door between the bar and the hall she was standing in swung open violently, thumping against the wall.

  A man she had never seen before was being forcibly led into the hallway by …

  “Mason?” she whispered in disbelief.

  She could have sworn her heart stopped beating for a moment. He hadn’t noticed her yet and she took advantage of that by stepping against the wall, trying to make herself as small as she could.

  He was dressed all in black: black pants, black button-down shirt and black boots. He had a headset attached to the inside of one ear and a microphone on the collar of his shirt. His hazel eyes were serious. He looked professional and in control—not at all like the man she’d seen in the park.

  What was he doing there? Did he work at the club? Mason’s head swung around suddenly. When his too-serious eyes landed on her, they widened. Bryn followed behind the two men, closing the noise of the bar out as she shut the door.

  “Mason!” Bryn snarled, her tone interrupting Mason and Eir’s eye lock. “Get your head back in the fucking game … and for fuck’s sake call Korvain,” she said, pushing the man he’d been manhandling further down the hallway and forcing him up against the wall roughly, kicking his feet to separate his legs.

  Touching the tattoo on her neck, Bryn summoned her sword, and its magic hummed through Eir’s body. Her own sword began to throb in response. Where Bryn’s sword was golden, Eir’s was violet in color. She hadn’t used it in nearly a thousand years, yet when another Valkyrie’s sword was drawn, she felt a desire to use hers, too.

  Eir’s attention went back to Mason when he touched the button on his collar and spoke to Korvain, still watching her. Eir could see the questions burning in his eyes, and she was sure he must see the same thing in hers.

  Barely a minute had passed before Korvain pushed through the door. His rage roiled around him,
causing the room to darken, the shadows to thicken.

  “What’s going on? Who the fuck is he?” he ordered when he saw Bryn’s patting down the stranger. Goosebumps broke out on Eir’s skin, and she shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.

  “This is Galen. He says he wants to discuss something with me,” Bryn said, staring hard at the man.

  Galen cleared his throat and tried to push himself off the wall. “Yes, as I was saying before—” He grunted as Bryn slammed him back against the wall again.

  Korvain clicked his teeth together noisily. “I didn’t fucking ask you, did I?” He stared icily at Mason first before addressing Bryn once more. “Let’s go into your office for a bit more privacy.”

  Eir watched them haul the other man into the room, slamming the door shut behind them. When Eir turned around, it was just her and Mason in the empty hallway. He walked towards her, halting a few feet away. His eyes devoured her hungrily, and Eir’s skin flushed. An undeniable electricity surged between them.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “I live here. What are you doing here?”

  He frowned. “You live here, as in you’re one of Bryn’s Valkyries?”

  His words startled her. “What do you know of the Valkyries?”

  Mason stared at her for a beat then ran his hands through his short hair in disbelief, drawing her attention to a cut above his left eye.

  “You’re bleeding,” she uttered softly, lifting her fingers to his forehead. She began inspecting the wound, until Mason sucked in a sharp breath, the sound hissing through his teeth. “I’m sorry, but I need to see how deep it is. You may need stitches,” she said. Eir began probing the wound again, determining what she needed to do.

  He did need stitches, so she had two choices really: take him upstairs and patch him up, or take him into the staff changing rooms and do it there. For her own sanity, she decided to lead him into the changing room.

  “Sit,” she commanded, pointing to the long benches that separated the two sides of the room. While Mason settled in, Eir went to one of the lockers and pulled out the first-aid kit. Although she could have healed him, although she wanted to heal him with her touch, Eir chose to do it the old-fashioned way instead. The less he knew, the better.

  He was straddling the bench, his hazel eyes heavy-lidded as he watched her. Eir could feel the blush traverse her neck and climb her cheeks, but she pushed the feeling of flapping butterflies in her stomach away and sat down next to him.

  His large chest rose and fell as she twisted her body to face him. She took one of the sterile pads from its packaging and soaked it in saline, then pressed it to Mason’s temple. His blood mixed with the saline, turning it pink, leaving faint trails down his cheek before dripping off his chin.

  When the awkward angle Eir was sitting at made it too difficult for her to work properly, she stood up, straddling the bench so her and Mason’s knees were touching, the first-aid kit sitting between them. She pressed a clean swab to his forehead while mopping up the excess water with another.

  “Hold that there for me?” Mason’s fingers grazed hers as she pulled away. Eir busied herself by searching through the kit for a small suture needle and some thread. She could feel Mason’s eyes on her as she worked and the flush crept back into her cheeks again.

  “This might sting a bit. Are you ready?” Her breath was embarrassingly whispery and faint.

  Four neat stitches later and Eir dropped the needle and thread into her lap before finding a small sterile patch to keep the stitches clean and dry.

  “I’ll give you some more of these when you finish tonight,” she said, concentrating on her work. “The stitches should be ready to come out in a few days.”

  “Will I have a scar?” he asked, his lips tilting up mischievously.

  “Were you hoping for one?”

  “Yeah … chicks dig scars,” he added when he saw her questioning look.

  She laughed out loud, making the grin on Mason’s face even wider, making him look younger.

  “There it is,” he said, his gaze hot on her face. “There’s that laugh I like so much.”

  Eir blanched and got to her feet, dumping the used gauze and empty packaging into the trash. With her back still turned to him, she asked him the question she’d wanted to ask him for the past half an hour. “What do you know about Valkyries?”

  He was silent, and when she turned around, he was looking down at the ground. “A lot more than I should,” he replied, then sighed. “Look, I have to get back out there,” he said, indicating the main belly of the club with his head. “Come find me after we close and I’ll explain everything to you. Please?” he added when he saw her hesitate. “You need to give me more of these things anyway.” Mason pointed to the gauze covering his freshly tended wound.

  Eir reluctantly agreed, pushing out of the door and walking towards the elevator. She could feel his eyes on her as she walked away, but was too scared to turn around and look at him. He said he knew a lot more than he should about her world, but how could that be?

  “I’ll explain everything tonight, Eir. I promise,” Mason called out. Eir turned to meet his gaze, feeling that same flip-flopping in her stomach as before. Thankfully the elevator arrived soon after she pressed the button. She stepped inside, staring down at the floor until the doors slid shut.

  Eir let out a shaky breath and slumped against the wall of the elevator car. Waiting for three am to roll around was going to be torturous.

  Chapter 21

  Mason saw Bryn emerge from the hallway that led to her office, and his shoulders immediately relaxed. He had been wound so damn tight thinking about Bryn talking to that guy, but thankfully he knew Korvain wouldn’t leave her alone with the bastard.

  Mason watched the goddess for a moment before he made his way over to the bar, where she was pouring herself a glass of 42 Below. He took a deep breath, steadying himself for what he was about to ask. “What did he want?”

  Bryn took a sip from her drink, holding his gaze while she swallowed down the cool liquor. “He had a business proposal for me.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. He was here on behalf of his boss.” Bryn put her glass down with a dull thump after taking a long, deep drink. “Henry Craine.”

  Mason had heard of Craine, as had most people. He was perhaps the most ruthless mob boss since Capone had run the Chicago-based racketeering circuit in the twenties. For a few moments, he just let that information sink in. “What does he want with us?”

  The Valkyrie’s lip tilted up in a small smile. “He wants a stake in the business.”

  “Why the fuck would he think he could buy into the club? Hell, why would he want to?”

  Bryn looked off into the throng of people and shrugged, taking another sip from her glass. A drop of condensation rolled down the side, slipping off the end and hitting the bar. All around them, the bar kept functioning as if nothing was wrong.

  But something was very wrong.

  Mason could feel it like a gentle buzzing in his ear, gradually getting louder. It was triggering his marine’s instincts, setting off the alarms and telling him to keep his eyes fucking open.

  “What are you going to do?”

  Bryn’s eyes suddenly blazed. “My business is not for sale. I’ve worked too damn hard to keep everyone I love safe to give up a stake of my home.”

  Mason exhaled; he was glad she wasn’t even considering selling. “How did Galen take that answer?”

  She sighed. “He warned that his boss would be disinclined—that was his choice of words—to accept a refusal.” She took another sip of her drink, placing her glass down purposefully. Her eyes were still firmly planted on a spot in the distance. “There was an implied threat, and I guess I can expect another visit from him soon enough, no doubt to up the offer and sweeten the deal.”

  Mason dragged a hand down his face. The buzzing was growing into a persistent hum now. He didn’t like the fact that Craine was snif
fing around. Why the Eye, and why now? The answer hit him like a ton of bricks. Craine was balls-deep in the drug trade. What if he wanted to expand the business into Boston?

  “Fuck,” he muttered to himself. Bryn hardly even cast a look in his direction. Mason couldn’t have Bryn exposed to that. Hell, he couldn’t have Eir exposed to that.

  Eir.

  “Listen, Bryn, I wanted to ask you about something.”

  “What is it?” she asked, her gaze traveling over the crowd surrounding the bar.

  He was suddenly nervous. “It’s about Eir.”

  She looked at him, eyes hard. “What about her?”

  “I, ah, want to know more about her.”

  Her stare said more than her words ever could. He knew she would protect all her Valkyries from danger.

  “She lives here, right?” he pressed, knowing he was pushing his luck with her. After a few tense seconds, Bryn nodded. Mason licked his lips. “What else can you tell me about her?”

  Bryn’s mouth tightened just a little as her eyes betrayed her thoughts. Mason listened in as she tried to decide whether she should tell him any more about Eir.

  “Why do you want to know about Eir?” she asked.

  “She’s the only one of your … sisters … I hadn’t met before tonight,” he replied nonchalantly. “If I’m supposed to look out for you all as Korvain’s asked me to, I need all the information I can get.”

  It was only a half-truth he was telling her, but it sounded convincing.

  “She’s a nurse at Massachusetts General Hospital.”

  “And …” He hesitated, leaning in just a little closer, so their conversation remained between the two of them. He couldn’t believe what he was about to say to her. How would she take the news that he knew all about their world? Would she shun him or welcome him into the fold? He blew out a breath. “She’s one of your Valkyries.”