Plenty of folks lingered on the streets outside, crowding the sidewalk and leaning against the building, and tufts of smoke billowed out from everyone who’d been waiting until after the show. Vestiges of their set trickled out here, where more folks than average were lip-locked and shedding clothing. Kieran caught the flash of neon green from a block away—the bright dress Danica wore.
Otherworld be damned. He sped up, ignoring the looks his way as he tore down the sidewalk like he’d burst into flame. His brother knew he cared about Liz enough to stake claim, which made her top of the target list—apart from himself of course. Folks near jumped out of the way as he hurtled forward, smacking elbows into whoever happened to not duck out in time. His heartbeat pounded in his ears at an insistent throb at the thought of something happening to Liz.
He skidded to a halt at the end of the block where they’d disappeared to the right, sending a spray of gravel up in the process. A long street stretched out, near isolated apart from a couple walking hand in hand and a lanky guy jaywalking across the street. His hands balled into fists, but nothing jumped out to punch. They’d vanished in plain sight.
Several dark crevasses marked the length of the street—the alleys.
He’d wasted enough time. He had to get to her, now.
Pushing off on his soles, he pounded pavement again, scanning the first alley as he all but darted by.
The bark of gunfire echoed in the air. His blood froze, and for a second he forgot how to breathe. Up ahead. The sound filtered from the alley on the other side of the street. He should’ve never fucking let her sit in the crowd to watch the show with Danica tonight. So wrapped up in their fight, he hadn’t jumped in to argue like he always did, and of course, this would be the night they got dragged off by fae.
Barely pausing to check for incoming cars, Kieran darted across the street, gunning it for the alleyway.
The second he stepped into the entryway, the scent of rotting fish guts overwhelmed him, but what socked him in the gut was the tinny stench trailing in the breeze—of blood.
The group of three guys stood in the alley, cornering Liz and Danica who backed up to the wall. Liz pulled her Beretta out with her finger on the trigger. One of the guys crouched, his hand pressed to his knee, and Kieran’s breath rushed out in one big sweep of relief.
Liz glanced up, their eyes meeting as she gave a slight nod, signaling him forward.
He clenched and unclenched his fists as he approached them in the alley. He gritted his teeth as the rage bubbled inside him, begging to spill into violence.
One of the guys whirled in his direction, knife out and flying his way before Kieran said a word. However, human reflexes were nothing compared to his kind, and as the knife sailed toward him, he swerved to the side. The cold metal clattered to the ground.
“Back off, man,” the guy shouted. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“It sure as hell it does,” Kieran said, his voice low. Humans, male or female, were easy to manipulate—he only needed one touch. Except right now, the adrenaline churning through his body placed him more in the mindset of punch first, chat later.
“Someone’s tailing the guys,” Liz called over to him, even though her focus remained on her targets. Danica’s hands balled into fists, but she didn’t carry weapons on her, at least not any visible ones. Even if the leannan sidhe did have some extraordinary fighting abilities, he doubted she’d whip them out until last resort. The woman held her cards close, revealing little. “They said the creature had a lock on you guys. If we didn’t follow, he would turn the joint into a bloodbath.” The cold fury in her voice resonated with him.
It was bad enough his brother made his life hell, but those antics were nothing new. However, the threat to the audience and the threat to Liz ignited him in a heartbeat.
“What’re you going to do without your knife, asshole?” Kieran closed the distance between him and the knife hurler in a few quick strides, and before the man struck, Kieran’s hand clamped around his wrist. “You’re going to stop. Now,” he purred, with the incubus persuasion of his kind.
A second later, the man’s gaze turned dreamy, and he nodded in compliance.
Danica dove forward with her claws out, jumping for the middle guy’s leg. In a less than graceful assault, her full body hurl brought both of them tumbling to the concrete, adding some dark stains to her neon dress. Liz seized the distraction and pulled the trigger again on the guy she’d kneecapped. He let out a loud curse as he sank to the ground, blood streaming from his leg. Kieran made a mental note to hide her Beretta at some point, because damn if the girl hadn’t gotten trigger happy. Besides, she was a mean shot, at that.
“Who sent you,” Kieran said, grilling the guy since the bewitched man wouldn’t be able to lie to him.
“Some businessman,” the blond murmured, his gaze vacant. “Said to take out the girl and if she wasn’t compliant, to take out anyone else in the area.”
“Big paycheck involved?” Kieran asked, putting the pieces together.
“Biggest take I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been in the biz for a while.” The guy rambled, his body calm while in Kieran’s hold, despite the gun being pointed at Danica’s guy. Liz’s prior target dragged himself out of the alley, palms scraping the gravel since he couldn’t walk.
“Who’s following my friends? Discord’s Desire?” Kieran asked, even though the temptation rode him to snap the bastard’s neck and be done with him. They needed any information they could get, so for now smarts would trump.
“Some hulk of a guy, nasty eyes, and weird scaly armor. Wouldn’t want to meet him in an alley.”
Kieran’s grip around his wrist tightened, and his nails bit into the flesh. Had to be something fae to trigger the weird. Human like him wouldn’t see shit beyond the surface though. They didn’t have any more time to dribble down the drain, and this guy wouldn’t cough up any more information if he hadn’t even been given names. Kieran let go of the man’s wrist, but before the guy came to his senses, he whipped a right hook to the jaw. The man staggered back a few paces, wobbling on his feet. His hands flew for his chin right as his eyes rolled back in his head. He dropped like a stone in the pond.
“Let’s go,” Kieran said, his veins thrumming with unspent violence.
He barely heard the footsteps from the outside of the alley.
Another human stepped into view, this one dressed in black from head to toe, leather jacket, slacks, and stompers. Unlike the others who didn’t look clear of mind, this man’s eyes gleamed with pure and unadulterated venom.
“What are you doing to these humans?” the man asked, his voice low with contempt.
“Defending myself,” Kieran said, struck with wariness. The predatorial way this human strode into the place, how he looked at him like he saw past all the glamour—Kieran got the sinking feeling Liz might get to meet one of her kind in the worst way possible.
Liz pointed her pistol in the direction of the new guy. “Who are you?” she asked, the edge of desperation in her voice.
“I’m not interested in you,” he said. “Get out of the way—these two aren’t who you think they are. I’ll handle this.”
Liz didn’t budge. “What, fae? They’re exactly who I think they are, hunter,” she said, her voice firm this time.
The man’s brows furrowed in confusion.
Kieran swallowed, hard. After all this time searching for her kind, this guy was an utter douchebag. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Did you want to talk with him?” he asked.
“Not at the expense of the two of you,” Liz growled.
The last guy left standing snuck out with the distraction, while the other crony struggled to crawl forward. His blood stained the alley in a dark streak. The hunter leaned forward, the platinum knives holstered into his belt glinting in the sparse streetlight. He tugged the blood-soaked man around his shoulder and headed out of the alley.
“You’re going to walk away?” Liz asked, her grip tighte
ning on her pistol. “What happened to your whole fae-slaughtering mission?”
The man glanced back, his dark eyes weary. “Our number one goal is to protect human lives first. Always.” With that, he continued forward, out of the alleyway and out of sight.
Liz lowered her gun, a troubled look on her face.
Kieran squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said, not knowing what else to say in the face of the extreme disappointment she must be struggling with. He’d seen how much she longed for a place in the world, and yet when she encountered one of her own, the guy had been cold, dismissive, and trying to kill him and Danica. Liz’s jaw tensed, and she stared out like she attempted to collect her shattered pride from the floor.
Danica jogged beside them. “Use your X-Ray vision to find us, Supes?”
Kieran restrained his smirk at the woman’s pop culture addiction. “Sorry, just my magic powers of asking the bartender.” Both of them left Liz to brood on instinct, wanting to give her the space to process. She didn’t indulge in public emotional displays, ever.
“Where were the guys when you took off?” Danica asked. “Do you think the hunter’s going to cause problems for them?”
“Packing away equipment. They’ve got to be out back where we loaded up.” Kieran quickened his pace to a jog again. Sweat prickled on his nape at the constant stream of nerves barraging him from the second he stepped offstage. “Next gig better be at a remote island. Tropical weather, gorgeous beaches, and none of my brother’s cronies.”
“Don’t tempt me, rockstar. I’ll start looking up island bars in a heartbeat.” Liz forced a smile despite her shake-up.
“If that’s the case, I’m becoming a roadie,” Danica called out, lagging back. Her heels clacked against the asphalt, keeping her a couple of paces behind as they rushed for the loading area behind Karma Club. The folks leaning against the towering building didn’t pay them a second glance this time when Kieran rushed up. First time might’ve been an odd sight, but San Francisco had seen odder.
His fingers scraped the brick of the building as he whipped around the corner, skidding to a halt in front of the Karma Club’s back alley. Kieran’s chest heaved up and down. He scanned the area at the same time Liz lifted her Beretta to take aim.
Before he could process anything, Jett strode up to them, scratching the back of his head. If the blood splatters on his shirt weren’t evident on first sight, they grew clear the moment the metallic stench invaded his senses.
“I take it you had a distraction of your own?” He winked before flicking a piece of gristle off his open button-down.
“Guess there’s no need to alert you guys of a rogue fae.” Kieran hooked his thumbs into his jean pockets, stepping past Jett to examine the rest of the loading area.
“Sorry, Ky.” Trevor winced as he locked eyes with him. His boot squished into a beyond dead scaled naga, based on the lack of movement and spray of blood coating every surrounding inch. Impaled. By his mic stand.
Kieran marched over to where Trevor did a halfhearted job at freeing his mic stand with pitiful tugs. Giving him an arch look, he grabbed it from his hands and yanked harder. With a squelch that echoed in the quiet of the alley, his mic stand came free. A sigh slipped his throat. After the way the metal bent, he’d need to replace the handle.
“You assholes couldn’t have found anything else to use? I put my hands on this thing.” Kieran gave them the side-eye.
Renn shrugged as he leaned forward to tug the body toward the overflowing trash cans and dumpster by the wall. “You’ve put your hands in more questionable places, so I don’t see the big deal.”
Trevor fought to restrain his grin.
Jett led Danica and Liz over to where they’d stacked up their equipment, which had survived assault by naga unlike his stand. “At least it didn’t put too much of a dent into packing up. Just a minor bloody detour.”
“Hope you didn’t chip a nail,” Liz teased, her eyes glinting.
Kieran’s stomach twisted at the sight. Despite the easy way she teased Jett, Kieran understood how much bravado she wielded, how she swore she was okay even when she died inside a little more each day. As much as he understood her, he’d never had smooth sailing with Liz like she did with Jett. Even if half the time they flirted, the other half turned into a fight. The woman would either spell his salvation or his demise.
Within minutes, they’d gotten the instruments, amps, and myriad of other equipment packed away into the RV, and Jett made a beeline for the back, near peeling his dirty shirt off in the process. They’d rolled the body into the dumpster—the best cover up they were going to achieve right now. Not like the creature would register in human records.
Danica slapped a high-five on Liz’s palm. “See you bright and early, sunshine.” She sashayed out of the RV like a neon whirlwind before anyone else got a word in edgewise.
If Kieran’s adrenaline surged before, it was nothing compared to the moment Liz turned toward him, those hazel eyes serious. Neither needed to say a word, because they both knew a confrontation reared on the horizon.
“Want to take a walk? There might be chopped up naga on the menu at one of the local joints.” Kieran kept it as light as he could manage with the guys around.
“Tempting offer, rockstar. Maybe if we’re quick enough we’ll catch the special.” She leaned down to one of the chairs and snagged her hoodie, tossing it over her one shoulder. “Try and keep up.” The wink she passed back smoldered, causing liquid heat to flush through him.
Winter’s breath, Liz would be the death of him.
Chapter Nineteen
Liz’s throat dried before she exited the RV, and a flush of adrenaline prickled her arms. She’d been hoping to dodge around this, but once she caught the confrontational spark in his eyes, it was game, set, match. As they stepped onto the brisk San Francisco streets, she twirled a strand of hair around her finger. His proximity sent a wave of heat through her, the memories of the time between them all too visceral.
She glanced over while they walked in silence. His amber eyes burned with all the intensity of the emotions Kieran Blackmore never tried to hide. Based on the scorching look he gave her, they’d be sailing straight into feelings territory, and that was something Liz didn’t do. One good lay didn’t make up for a lifetime of goodbyes.
“If I’d known the sexual healing worked both ways, I would’ve hopped into the sack sooner. I feel fabulous,” she said in a deadpan, trying her damndest to stay light and casual.
“Don’t,” Kieran growled. “Don’t continue brushing this off.” He stopped on the sidewalk, arms crossed and seething.
She slowed to a halt and turned on her heel to face him. At once, she wished she hadn’t. Usually, she sank into autopilot with ease—a slip in the sack with ‘wham, bam, thank you, ma’am’ efficiency. Yet Kieran, from the day she’d met him, tested those boundaries, whether it be a nudge or the railcar ramming he’d been practicing of late. All of his constant efforts pushed her to this place where she couldn’t evade or dash the other way. Not unless she left for good.
He clenched his jaw, and hell, his gaze burned. The scent of cigarette smoke and whiskey enveloped her, causing her heart to quicken. His hair was tousled even though some of the gelled strands held in place from the show. The way his leather fit his lithe frame returned her mind to how he’d pinned her against the wall the night before, and she couldn’t help the shudder rolling through her body in response. Yet no matter how much he turned her on, how she longed to indulge in the brief fantasy that she could allow someone in for keeps, she had a lifetime of experience to prove the opposite.
“Sorry,” she said with a shrug. “I’m not a happy ending kind of girl.” And wasn’t that the truth. She jutted her jaw forward, daring him to argue with her defenses, the only thing she clung to against this onslaught. Silken promises weren’t enough to erase the stains in her past, and she’d stopped being gullible by the time she turned seven. That foster home had lasted t
he shortest time and became the first instance of many where she cut and run. To this day, the scent of Listerine made her vomit, because she’d learned then humans could be far, far worse than the monsters lurking outside her window.
“You’re not just a one-night stand either,” he countered. Based on the dangerous glint in his eyes, bitter, self-deprecating humor filed under brushing the issue off. She was ace at that.
“Well yeah, because you have to see my face the next morning.” She pressed her fingers to her lips, blowing him a kiss that attempted playful. Bad plan.
“Fucking hell, Liz. Wanted a taste of an incubus? Don’t worry, sweetheart, that’s all I’m good for anyway.” His temper burst, his voice raw. Old wounds burned in his eyes, ones flooding her with guilt. In avoiding her own issues, she’d unearthed his. She opened her mouth, sharp retort on her tongue, but she stopped. Running a hand through her tangled strands, she took in a deep breath. Despite being overprotective and stubborn, the boy had a heart of gold and proved time and time again, he’d do anything for her. Time for her to nut up.
“Ky, I’m not playing around with you for kicks.” The words weighed heavy on her tongue as she fought to continue. “Yeah, you’ve been on my mind. A lot. Any idiot can see that. But this is the longest I’ve stayed in one place, and we haven’t even reached six months on the road. You’re looking at me with these eyes promising forever, and I’m barely holding onto today.” Her chest squeezed tight, and she tugged on the sleeves of her hoodie, agitation flooding her in the wake of the admission.
And he was the type of bastard to promise the world and fight like hell to deliver. But Liz O’Brien fought her own battles—she always did. Hell, it had been the sole way she survived this long.
Kieran didn’t hesitate to close the distance between them. He wrapped an arm around her waist, clutching her tight to him against the inferno of warmth, and he tilted her chin up. “One day at a time, babe. That’s all I’m asking.”
A shiver ran through her spine, and before she could argue, her body betrayed her. The temptation in front of her proved too damn much. She leaned up, grazing her lips against his. The heat between them traveled to her core, and when they kissed, sparks descended to her toes. He deepened the kiss at once, his mouth claiming hers with a hot possessiveness. Her fingers curled into his shoulders as she melted against his mouth, dipping her tongue in to stroke against his own.
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