“Heard the name but never exchanged digits or anything.” Jett glanced between the two of them with an annoying know-it-all look reaching his face. He drummed his fingers on the surface of the table, the man unable to stay still for the life of him.
“God forbid you meet a woman and not sleep with her.” Liz placed a hand against her forehead in mock agony.
“And deprive my gifts to the world? It’d be cruel.” Jett winked. “How does this Danica have the inside scoop on Ky’s family though?”
Liz’s grin widened. “That’s where this gets good. She searched for us because she’s got her own vendetta against Larsen for how he treated her sister. You wanted an ally? You’ve got one.”
Kieran couldn’t help the burn of pride in his chest at how out of the whole bunch of them, Liz had navigated her way through a Court function and obtained the very information they’d been searching for. Not everyone possessed her focus or savvy. His brother had acted like having a hunter in their midst would bring down a world of trouble, but for Liz? He’d brave it.
“Larsen’s enough of a cad I’d half-buy it.” Jett continued his incessant tap-tapping on the hardwood. “But what’s to say she’s not manipulating us for her own gain? Deceit is instinctual in Court functions.”
She reached forward to tap Jett on the nose. “Come on Nellie Naysayer. Trust me on this one. Larsen came out to proposition me, and he stormed off in a hissy after the tongue-lashing he recieved.”
A tightness in Kieran’s chest unfurled. She sat there clutching the chair and talking about tossing out his brother, the one who’d stolen woman after woman he cared about in the past. How she didn’t hesitate to give Lars the middle finger when he sprung his offer, one that tempted so many before. Of all the women he’d dated, dined, and fucked, he’d never met one more resilient. More remarkable.
And he knew right then and there, even if whatever flared between them immolated, if it all crashed and burned, he’d remember Liz O’Brien for a lifetime.
Chapter Thirteen
Renn and Trevor were hungover as shit in the morning since they’d stayed out until dawn. Liz heard them groaning in the kitchen all the way to the driver’s seat, which she’d settled into. Meanwhile, over at the big kid’s club, she planned their next step against Larsen.
Even still, she couldn’t help the accelerated heartbeat at the mere thought of getting any answers today. She’d gone years begging for even a hint of what she might be, and the first tastes were a tease. She needed to know if others existed out there, others between the human and the fae.
Liz veered into the right-hand lane, squeezing the behemoth of an RV into the slight gap between a Prius and a VW Beetle it shouldn’t have fit into. After the way Kieran kissed her last night, she didn’t sleep a wink, but with Jett up her butt sideways for company hours afterwards, she and Kieran never got the chance to pick up where they left off. She squeezed her thighs together as heat pooled there from the mere memory of how his touch ignited desires that hadn’t sparked in a long time.
And holy hell, the incubus could kiss. She’d never felt so swept away by locking lips with someone, and if they hadn’t been interrupted, their entanglement had been heading in one direction. Despite the way she’d fought the idea for so long, after tasting the smoke and whiskey on his lips, and after the breathless thrill of their crash together rocked her as strong as a tide to shore, she didn’t know how to turn back now. Even if she warred between wanting to fight him and fuck him on a daily basis.
Liz let out a sigh, wishing the tension inside her would uncoil with the breath. It didn’t.
“Are we there yet?” His silken voice came from behind, almost causing her to veer off the road. Instead, she kept her grip tight on the wheel and her eyes focused on treading the asphalt ahead of her. The second she locked gazes with the infuriating incubus, she’d want to jump his bones all over again. God knows she barely restrained herself last night while she’d been laying down Danica’s proposal to Jett and Kieran. She’d wedged the business card on the dashboard, an address right outside of central San Francisco, so Liz made the judgment call to take a little detour while last night remained fresh.
“Cool your jets, rockstar. We just got rolling today,” she said, trying with all her might to ignore how her body heated at his scent, or how his voice made her heart beat in double time.
He wasn’t making it easy as he leaned against her seat, inches away from her, so near his breath tickled her ear. “Hard to cool down when you’re so damn close,” he murmured, the words shooting a thrill straight through her core. Her mind traveled to his hands on her hips, their clothes on the floor, and all the things his talented mouth could be doing.
Bad Liz. Stay. Focused.
“Well, unless you’re planning on boning the information out of Danica, I’d take the aforementioned advice, since we’re almost there.” Liz kept her cool, even though she’d give anything to pull the RV in park, throw caution and responsibility to the breeze, and pick up where they left off last night.
Kieran snorted. “Nice evasion, sweetheart. But you can’t keep dodging around me forever.”
“Don’t know, I’ve been told I’m pretty boss at pirouettes.” Liz maneuvered the gigantic RV onto the turning lane toward a more residential neighborhood. The streets grew broader with some fringes of trees, and the folks milling about the sidewalks lessened the farther out of the city they got. High up where they were, San Francisco Bay twinkled in the distance, a glittering cerulean gem. She made the right-hand turn onto another street, this one leading to a tan office complex, much shorter than the soaring heights in the city proper.
However, the sign on the offices listed spelled out Maslanka Talent Agency, same as the film reel logo on the card, so she pulled into the narrow lane lined with shrubs that led to a parking lot around back. While the parking lot wasn’t a full house to her relief, enough cars crowded it to make navigating a tricky process, one not helped by a certain incubus who refused to clear out.
“Time to go woo ourselves a leannan sidhe,” Jett announced, marching up to the too crowded front of the bus.
“Guys, the plan isn’t sleeping with her,” Liz argued, rolling her eyes. “We’re looking for help trying to figure out how offing Kieran would help Larsen elevate the family name in the slightest.”
“Ugh.” Renn groaned, joining them up front while he pawed at the side of his head. She cast a quick glance to where the three men squished themselves in the front of the RV, a big bucket of testosterone. Making a point to ignore them, she focused on putting this beast into a couple of parking spots without clipping mirrors in the process.
“Clean yourself up, Renn. You’re a mess.” Jett began laying into him, because the two of them couldn’t go five minutes without bickering.
“Whatever. The woman works with musicians all day long—I’m sure she’s not going to faint from a little chaos.” Renn shoved his way to the steps before she’d parked as if he planned on tuck and rolling out the doors. The man’s hair was disheveled, and he reeked of last night’s Jager, but altogether he didn’t look too off with the smudged eyeliner around his eyes and the ripped jeans he wore.
“A little chaos is one thing. You smell like you showered in spunk,” Jett said as he joined Renn on the steps. Unlike the drummer, Jett wore a clean gray button-down, pressed with the edges sharp, a contrast to the glint of his piercings. The two were night and day different.
“Yo, keep your nastiness to yourself, brother.” Kieran jumped into the fray, even though he leaned against the driver’s seat, the heat in his gaze as they locked eyes making it clear he crowded her on purpose. Of course he did.
Liz put the RV into park and turned off the behemoth. “All right, guys, have at it.” She let out a sigh as Renn near tumbled out the door. All three of them exited with the speed of puppies ready for a walk, and by the time she unbuckled her seatbelt and stood, they waited outside.
“Reckon they’re all a bit antsy.” Tr
evor winked at her as he approached from the back. She stretched her arms over her head, listening to the rippling crack of her spine.
“Yeah, well they can wait, because Danica’s my contact, not theirs.” She shot a glare to the guys who had ceased paying attention to her and instead started roughhousing while standing in the middle of the parking lot. Renn lobbed a punch toward Kieran who whirled around, diving in for a headlock. The drummer’s ragged strands waved wildly around as his laughs pealed through the air. Jett crossed his arms over his chest, pinning them both with a judgmental stare. Not bothering to join in the fray, Trevor slipped his hands into his pockets and trekked across the parking lot toward the door.
Liz shook her head and locked up the RV before following Trevor’s cue, letting the other guys figure out they’d been left in the dust. Her nerves jangled with the insistence of a ringing phone for the answers she’d been promised last night. Even if Danica knew a hint more, Liz would take it. The leannan sidhe had been right—she was thirsty for any ounce of knowledge regarding the hunters.
When she stepped into the foyer of the building, goosebumps prickled her arms from the stale air conditioning flooding the place. The anticipation soured her stomach. Places like these always reminded her of Dynamic Foster Care’s office, the stench of cleaning fluids competing with those butterscotch hard candies that filled every crystal candy tray on the desks. After her first few home switches, those candies came to taste like disappointment. She hunched forward with her arms crossed as she followed Trevor down the hall.
An arm slipped around her shoulders, flooding her with warmth. Before she glanced over, she knew Kieran had approached.
“We’re here to befriend Danica, not fight her, right?” he asked with his voice light but those amber eyes burning with seriousness. “Because you look like you’re ready to tear into someone, not make nice.”
Liz shook his arm off her shoulders as she straightened her stance. Even though she liked the feel of his touch more than she wanted to admit, he was right on one front—she needed to present her best foot forward here. She offered him a strained smile. “Offices don’t sit well with me. Too many shitty memories.” He’d shared his own bullshit, so it couldn’t hurt to give him the heads up on hers.
He nodded, keeping pace with her as they crunched along the stiff gray carpeting together. She lifted her chin and sucked in a deep breath, even if the musty air stifled her.
“Don’t worry, doll, she won’t steal your job, even if I do end up sleeping with her.” Jett walked past her, a grin sliding to his face. As always, Jett rerouted conversation with skill and knew how to distract. She shook her head, grateful to both boys. She didn’t often set off a mine in her field of memories, but she’d take a life on the road with questionable finances over a stable nine to five in one of those prisons for more reasons than her uncanny ability to see past glamour.
“You try and find someone else willing to deal with Discord’s Desire’s bullshit. Babysitting, dodging horny motherfuckers, and fighting for my life were never part of the contract I signed.” She grinned as she picked up her pace to a march. The glass doors at the end of the hallway were printed with the Maslanka logo and neared by the second.
Trevor beat her to the doors, but he opened them for her like a gentleman rather than tuck and rolling through like Renn would. Liz walked in, hoping last night hadn’t been some fluke or trick. The moment she stepped in, her fae-senses started tingling.
The scent of jasmine wafted in here through the laden air, and based on the lack of flowers decorating the place, blooms didn’t cause the fragrance. While this office had the clean white lines of the others with a flawless desk in the front and inkspill black carpeting, the babbling of a fountain that spilled down the back wall in a bronzed off section offered a soundtrack unlike the static silence of the hallways. The receptionist’s sharp gaze flicked their way at once, and a too-sweet smile plastered onto the woman’s face as she stood from her seat.
“Are you here on an appointment?” she asked. Her green tinged skin and wild curls hinted nymph heritage, and upon closer observation, small plants blossomed in bowls all across her desk.
“Yeah, Liz O’Brien, here with Discord’s Desire. Danica should be expecting us.” She conveyed confidence she didn’t feel, because with the way the woman eyeballed her, the nymph gunned for a reason to toss the lot of them out. After picking up the phone and mumbling into it, the woman let out a sigh and pointed toward the corridor to the right, leading to a bunch of closed black doors. “Far one on the left. Don’t waste her time.”
“A plus on customer service, sweetheart,” Trevor drawled on their way by, earning him a dirty look.
Liz led the charge toward the door marked with Danica’s name on it. Her hand latched onto the knob, and she turned, pausing for a second before opening the door. She hoped this woman wouldn’t be turning some trick on them. After dealing with a taste of Court life last night, she understood why the boys wanted no part of their poisonous politeness. But Larsen’s agenda pushed them to take the leap. She opened the door, stepping inside.
Danica’s office stretched far longer than the closet it appeared, a spacious suite with a massive mahogany desk in the back and bookshelves that spanned ceiling high. A bar resided along one of the side walls, a myriad of half-filled, multicolored bottles crowding the surface.
“Come on in, Obiwan,” Danica called out, waving them forward. Her friendliness coasted in like the other night.
Liz slipped her hands into her pockets and approached with a smile. “Got tired of the old nickname?”
Danica stood from behind her desk, wearing a tailored gray pantsuit that screamed business, but the bright blue pumps, chunky blue bracelets, as well as the thick-rimmed glasses she wore added a layer of personality. Within seconds, she walked over to the bar, beckoning them to come join her by the obsidian surface.
“Nickname got passé—this one’s better, timeless.” Danica winked as she poured herself a glass of whiskey. “Anyone care for a drink?” she asked, glancing around the room and lifting the handle. Like she needed to ask. Within seconds, all four of the guys crowded around the bar, ready to imbibe, even though Renn and Trevor were nursing wicked hangovers for that reason.
Liz stepped in, ready to pour herself a glass when Kieran’s warnings returned to her—never accept food or drink from a fae, at least, she amended, one she didn’t know and trust. While she’d like to believe in Danica, she’d been around the block enough times to not trust anyone until they’d earned it.
Danica’s sharp eyes scanned over her, and without asking, she placed the extra glass under the bar. Renn and Jett were giving the woman a once over, which meant by the time they left, they’d be making a pass to sleep with her. Trevor seemed consumed in his own thoughts, so he leaned against the wall with a glass of whiskey in hand. Kieran, on the other hand, cut straight to the point like Liz expected.
“So how the hell do you know so much about my family?” Kieran confronted her, his tone edged with accusation.
Danica didn’t blink at the bluntness but instead hopped up to sit on her desk, letting her heels dangle over the sides. “Because your brother hurt my sister. And no one fucks with my family. So I’ve made it my business, and as you can see, I’ve got more connections than most would dream of. Some might scoff at all the business I do with humans, but I find it exhilarating and useful. Better than mucking around at Court in the same circles for a half century.”
“Ignore him, he’s got his panties in a twist.” Liz gave Kieran a flat-lidded look as she strolled over to the desk by Danica’s side. “You want Larsen taken down a peg, and we want to help. However, we’ve got no leads and no direction to even start in, so if you’re such a study on the Blackmores, anything you might’ve heard would help.”
“You’re an absolute darling, you know that?” Danica slapped the surface of her table. “If all the clients I dealt with were peaches and cream like you, my job would be the easi
est thing on the planet.”
“You haven’t struck her bad side yet,” Jett said, joining them where they stood. “Kitten’s got claws.”
Renn stayed by the bar, making some mottled concoction of liquors in his cup that couldn’t taste good. Trevor continued his scan of the room as he observed from a distance.
“I’ve got your lead,” Danica said, pressing her palms on her knees and hunching forward. Her eyes danced with mischief, which seemed to define this woman. “He’s been seen habiting a certain place that isn’t well known apart from folks in this area, and if there’s anywhere to dig up dirt, it’s at the Lotus Garden in Chinatown.”
Jett’s gaze darkened. “That place is ripe with Unseelie.”
“Why do you think I haven’t gone traipsing down there myself?” She pursed her lips, fixing him with a look. “But if I had others to watch my back, we could start figuring out why the hell Kieran’s brother’s been visiting on a regular basis. I can almost guarantee he’s finding his hitmen there. After the Blackmore’s fall from grace, they aren’t rolling in cronies.”
“And how do we know you’re not another hired gun trying to drag us to the most dangerous place possible?” Trevor spoke at last, placing his glass of untouched whiskey on the counter.
Danica shrugged. “You don’t know that. But hell, I think if anyone’s more at risk it’d be me—going into an Unseelie heavy casino with five folks who could turn around and ditch me at the slightest hint of trouble.”
Liz nodded. The woman spoke a whole lot of logic right now, which she latched onto. She met Kieran’s gaze, trying to gauge what he thought of this whole deal. After all, if anyone would be transparent, it’d be him. He gave her a nod in response.
“We’ll go.” Liz stepped up to Danica, extending her hand. “Partners?”
A soft smile spread across Danica’s face, none of the dancing wildness she expected from a fae. This was something real. Genuine. The woman placed her hand in Liz’s and shook.
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