Tainted Kiss

by Sharon Kay

  “Yes. And only at this time of year, when the stars and moons align so that they look like eyes crying tears.” Caine rubbed a hand across Alina’s shoulders.

  “Hunter and Raniero, you’re dismissed. Pick an area, grab weapons, and start searching,” Arawn said. “And if the meaning of this riddle strikes you at any point, call in. Ana will email it to all of you.”

  “Got it,” Raniero said.

  Mathias kissed Gin and stood, and the two fighters left the room.

  The room buzzed with low level conversations. “Isn’t anyone who’s dead…you know, resting already?” Gin asked.

  “I feel like I’m dead,” Alina mumbled, and laid her cheek down on the stone table. “Ooh, this feels so cool.”

  “You mean like how on Earth, they say so-and-so has gone to eternal rest?” Ria asked.

  “Yes,” Gin said. “So you’re alive and then you’re not. But do you guys have an in between, where the soul, or whatever, has to wait to see where they go next?”

  Arawn came to stand behind Ria. Though he didn’t touch her, his nearness made her blood heat. “No, Virginia,” he said.

  Ria bit back a smirk to see the flash of irritation in her friend’s eyes. “Nothing like purgatory, like some on Earth believe in.”

  “But Whysper told me that ghosts exist,” Gin went on. “So then, how is that possible?”

  “Whysper,” Arawn muttered at the mention of one of the staff witches. “She would know.”

  “Shall I call her in?” Ana asked.

  “No, we’re almost done.” Arawn’s hands landed on the back of Ria’s chair, jarring it slightly. She resisted the urge to reach back and cover his hand with hers.

  “If I may offer an explanation,” Fife spoke up.

  Gin turned to him. “Yes, please. I love hearing the reasons why science takes second place to myth and magic over here.”

  Ria snorted.

  Fife chuckled. “I think our ghosts are not so different from Earth ghosts. It is said they have unfinished business and that is why they occupy a home, or a tree, whatever.”

  “Are you saying Verdak is a ghost now?” Willow wrinkled her nose.

  Next to Ria, Wolfe cleared his throat. “I’d like to point out that like on Earth, not everyone here believes in ghosts.”

  “Not all demons believe in ghosts? But some do? Do you know how insane that sounds?” Gin asked.

  “About as insane as that riddle.” Caine nodded at the screen.

  “All right.” Arawn’s voice cut through the chatter. “We need to crack this. I want you all to think on it. You’ll get it in an email to keep it fresh in your minds. Let’s meet again tonight. Aleksai, Caine, Brenin.”

  All three warriors sat up straighter.

  “Take your teams and search the big cities. Ask around, persuade contacts to talk, dig up any hint of a lead about our missing men.”

  The Watchers muttered acknowledgment and stood.

  “Dismissed. Everyone.” Arawn gave a chin lift to the door. “And Wolfe. I need a new phone.”

  “Already done.” The tech genius stood and pulled a sleek new mobile device from his pocket. “It was a given, since you never called in last night.”

  “Thank you.” Arawn took the black phone. “And good call on that hair thing you made for Ria. If not for that, we might be hiking in circles around Stroehm right now.”

  The gray-eyed demon inclined his head. “Glad to be of service.”

  As the last of the crew filed out, Arawn leaned a hip on the table next to Ria. She still sat, knowing he had a million things to do but wanting to soak up each second that she could. She looked up into his dark brown gaze as reality and uncertainty tugged at her.

  “So, back to reality,” she said softly.

  He tilted his head. “Think reality may have shifted.”

  She blinked up at him.

  “Last night wasn’t a blip on the radar. Hell, it better not have been,” he growled.

  “No.” She shook her head. “Not at all. I mean, I hope not. I hope it’s the start of…something.”

  His nostrils flared. “You don’t smell like me anymore.”

  “I needed a shower,” she murmured. “Couldn’t stay dirty.”

  A low rumble vibrated from his throat. “I can’t decide if I like you better dirty, in only my shirt and covered with my scent.” He reached down to toy with a long blond curl. “Or fresh from the shower, bright and beautiful.”

  “You think I’m beautiful?” She instantly wanted to smack herself. Duh, he wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it. He didn’t mince words. But he’d also never said that.

  She half expected a teasing comeback. But he only stared at her as if memorizing her face. “I do,” he said softy, releasing her hair. “Very much.”

  Her heart stuttered at the raw sincerity in his voice and she suddenly felt like a goddess. He was a paragon of male desirability and could pick any female to spend time with. Last night he’d melted her with his talented touch and now, with these few honest words.

  She stood, needing to kiss him. “I—”

  “Arawn!” One of the novice fighters burst through the open conference room door, stopping short when he saw them. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t realize…I mean, we found a message, sir.”

  “Come in.” Arawn gestured for the male to approach. “What message?”

  The warrior squared his shoulders and walked over, carrying a small metal tube. “We opened the cylinder to check for explosives or magic traps and didn’t find any. It appears to be…only a message.”

  Arawn took the tube and tipped it sideways. A rolled piece of paper fell out into his hand. “How’d this get here?”

  “Passenger hawk, sir.”

  “Hawk?” Ria couldn’t keep the incredulity out of her voice. “Who still uses those?” Ever since phone technology had been developed, the use of animals to carry messages had nearly disappeared.

  “We’re researching that right now,” the male said. “But our location is public knowledge at the moment.”

  Ria turned to Arawn, who had gone preternaturally still. He held the unrolled paper in his hands, scanning silently. His heart rate was perfectly steady. His breathing was perfectly even.

  Arawn was often calm, but more in a barely-contained-simmering-anger kind of way.

  This calm, right now, was forced. Those unfamiliar with his nuances may not pick up on it, but it was clear to her that Arawn was masking the fact that something was terribly wrong.

  C

  HAPTER 17

  HOLY FUCKING SHIT.

  THEY KNOW.

  How in the fuck do they know?

  Arawn forced his hands to roll the thing up as if it were a weather report. He cleared his throat and turned to the nervous junior warrior. “Thank you. I’ve got it from here.”

  The young male nodded and ducked out of the room.

  Ria leaned in to him, putting her hand on his arm. “What is it? Something’s wrong, isn’t it?

  He studied the delicate shell of her ear, the cascade of blond curls that fell down her shoulder. Anywhere but into those blue eyes that made him want to be a better man for her. But your blood isn’t pure. “I need a minute, Ria.”

  She shook her head. “Can I help you with…whatever this is? Help figure something out?”

  “No.”

  She raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth, and this time he did look her in the eye. It was his don’t-mess-with-me, my-decision-is-final look. He hated to use it on her when he knew she sincerely wanted to help. And hell, she knew something was wrong. The reality of how well she knew him punched him in the gut. Again.

  Wanting to smash something, he shook his head.

  She swallowed. “Okay.” She pushed her chair away from the table and took a step back. “You know where to find me. Ana has my new phone number.” Head high, she walked out the door.

  His fingers curled around the edge of the stone table. The thing would have cracked if
it were wood. Part of him raged to run after her and tuck her close. He could read her eyes and knew she didn’t like being left out of something that was bothering him.

  But he had to let her go.

  Because this was a living nightmare.

  He unrolled the paper again but the words were already committed to memory. Written in crimson. Blood. A lock of black hair fell out. Nevo’s. Demanding words in a scratchy script.

  We know your secret.

  Stop your search or your warrior will be killed in twenty-four hours.

  The sword is ours.

  At the bottom of the paper was a wax seal with the silhouette of a Ghazsul demon and big letter “S”.

  Splinter.

  The group of rogue Ghazsuls was well known but adept at staying hidden. Like freaking modern day terrorists on Earth, they lived in caves in a deeply inhospitable mountainous region in the northern Bloodspire Mountains. They could see threats coming from miles away, and raised enough money through illicit dark magic to fund their needs.

  How did they know about him?

  Arawn got up, stalked to the door, and slammed it.

  He paced. His secret had simmered for centuries.

  Why now?

  But the answer loomed in his mind. Because the sword does exist, and they want it.

  Part of him ached to let Ria in, to let her sweet strength settle his anger. She shone with light and beauty. Her future was full of promise. Maybe she’d want six kids of her own, having grown up in that big boisterous family.

  That wasn’t his path.

  He paced the windowless room, thinking back to his boyhood village. His parents had known. It was his maternal grandmother who had been seduced by magic trickery into sleeping with a Ghazsul during their mutual fertile time. The male had used her and left. The family had kept it quiet, hoping he never knew he’d created a child.

  But what if he did know?

  Arawn’s mother had been born miraculously lacking the telltale Ghazsul traits. She had hair and no horns, and most important, skin that wasn’t red. Then she’d mated a full-blooded Lash and Arawn was born, passing easily for his father’s image.

  No one in his village knew. Arawn was the walking talking picture of a shameful family secret. One quarter Ghazsul. One quarter ugly, tainted, evil.

  He stopped pacing and stood in the middle of his room. He didn’t have much time. Splinter made good on their threats, always. Their sick, twisted minds enjoyed beheading prisoners and recording it. Arawn had no doubt they’d do the same to Nevo.

  He wasn’t about to let a man die for any reason, not least of which would be his cursed lineage. He needed to get Nevo out, or it would be blood on Arawn’s own hands.

  A rescue mission. That would make perfect sense, and he wouldn’t have to divulge his secret. And since he had a general area, he could call in his best tracker and go from there. He pulled out his phone and dialed Mathias.

  “Hello?” The Hunter’s calm voice carried through the phone.

  “I need you and Raniero back here. Now. Change of plans.”

  “You got it. Be back at HQ in five.”

  A small team would be ideal. He, his Hunter, and the former mercenary. Any more would draw attention, and stealth was key. The Bloodspires were riddled with bolt holes and crevices perfect for spies. And because of this goddamn ransom note, they would probably be expecting him. But the threat was because of him, so fuck sending anyone else. He was responsible.

  They would need to load up on weapons, climbing gear—

  A gagging sound carried through the closed door, followed by a murmuring female voice.

  Frowning, he stalked across the room and flung the door open.

  Alina sat on the floor, huddled against the marble wall. Her pale skin had a greenish hue and she held a fist against her closed lips. Gin crouched next to her, rubbing her sister’s back. “Let’s get you out of the hallway, at least—”

  Their heads jerked up as Arawn emerged. “Oh! We, uh… didn’t know you were still in there. Alina’s sick.” Gin said.

  “So I gathered.” Arawn folded his arms. “You should be in bed, Alina.”

  “Ugh…” Alina shook her blond head. “I can’t move. Can I just sit here for a bit? I don’t think I’ll throw up, I just need to not move.”

  “Hell, Solsti.” Arawn walked over to them. “You shouldn’t be sitting on the goddamn floor, feeling like shit. Caine would have you in bed before you could even think about puking.”

  Alina gulped and pressed a hand to her forehead. “Don’t…say…puking.”

  “Listen, I’ll stay here with you as long as you need,” Gin said, and turned to Arawn. “I can call someone, one of the guys—”

  Ah, hell. “No need.” In one fluid motion, Arawn bent and carefully scooped Alina up into his arms.

  Alina squeaked. Gin’s eyes widened.

  “What are you—”

  “Taking this female to her room.” Arawn started down the stark white hall. Didn’t matter that he’d never played nursemaid. “Both your mates would shred my ass if I left her sitting there. Come on, Virginia.” He didn’t look back. The padding of Gin’s quick footsteps told him that she was right behind.

  “Um…thank you,” Gin said, catching up to walk beside him.

  “I’ll take thanks in the form of not getting puked on.” Arawn grunted as he strode to the rotunda and stopped at the elevator. No stairs today. Alina looked like jostling would bring up whatever was in her stomach.

  Alina groaned and made a face. “Don’t say…uhhh.”

  “Sorry.” Arawn glanced down at her. Five feet nothing, she looked so helpless right now. But her mind held an awe-inspiring ability to manipulate the ground. She could tear the earth open or bring down a mountain.

  He blinked. That might not be a bad idea, considering where he was headed…but no. Portals weren’t an option for her right now. This was his fuck up. He’d run missions for years without her help, and this would be no different.

  Ana stood behind her desk and her eyebrows shot up. “Oh my, is she okay? Shall I call Ashina?” she asked.

  “No, it’s just morning sickness.” Gin pressed the elevator button and it opened instantly.

  “More like all-day sickness,” Alina muttered.

  “Almost there, Alina,” Gin said as they entered the car and moved smoothly up.

  Arawn flicked a glance to the Hunter’s dark haired mate. She possessed an affinity for fire, and had used it with unerring precision in the fight against Elegia. An ember of possibility took hold in his mind.

  They stopped on the fourth floor and were at Caine and Alina’s room in seconds. “Bed or bathroom?” Arawn asked.

  “Bed,” Alina moaned. “Ugh, Caine is so worried. I can feel it through the bond.”

  Arawn deposited the petite female on Caine’s huge bed.

  “Thanks again. I’ve got it from here,” Gin said. “That was really nice of you.”

  Arawn shrugged. It was the least he could do. These girls were special, powerful, under his roof, and bonded to his men. He looked out for them as if they were his kin.

  The door swung open, drawing his attention. Mathias stood there with Raniero, both looking very confused.

  “What’s going on?” Mathias asked. “Why are you all in here?”

  “Alina almost barfed in the hallway outside the conference room,” Gin said. “Arawn brought her up here. What are you doing back so soon? Did you find any of them?” She hurried to wrap her arms around Mathias.

  “Boss called us back.” Mathias kissed Gin swiftly.

  “Oh, well, I’ll let you get back to whatever you need to do—”

  “I’d like you to join us.” Arawn gave Gin a pointed stare.

  “Me? Um, okay. But Alina…”

  “Mmph,” Alina mumbled into a pillow.

  “I’ll get Ashina to come up here,” Raniero said. “She’d be more than happy to, and I know she’s not busy right now.”

  “Good
,” Arawn said. “We need to go somewhere where we can talk.”

  “Our room is down the hall.” Mathias toyed with a lock of Gin’s hair.

  “Perfect.” Arawn exited the room. Behind him, he heard Raniero assuring Alina that Ashina was on her way.

  The long hall was lined with rooms, most belonging to unmated Watchers. Caine and Mathias still had rooms in this wing because they hadn’t gotten around to picking new ones. Not that Arawn cared who slept where, but the other areas of HQ had suites that some mated pairs preferred.

  At the far end of the hall, a ding echoed from the rotunda. Next, the scent of orange blossom teased Arawn’s nose as the elevator doors opened.

  Ria.

  She stopped short, eyes widening as she took in their group. “Whoa, what’s going on? Thought you two were out searching.” Her gaze bounced from Mathias to Raniero, then to Arawn. He stopped, and the rest of the group stopped with him.

  So sincere, so damn pretty. It took all his strength not to stalk over and tuck her to his side. She carried two covered coffee cups and a small bag, from which the aroma of cranberry muffins wafted. “Gin? I was gonna drag you up to the balcony.”

  Shit. He had planned to get in, get out, and tell her when they had Nevo back here in the building, but that option had just flown out the window.

  “Um, impromptu meeting in our room.” Gin gave Ria a look, the way women did when there was a shit ton more to say but they weren’t about to verbalize it in present company.

  Ria rolled her lips into her mouth and released them with a pop. “Really? I can’t wait.” She flicked a glance to Arawn as if daring him to tell her otherwise and stepped up to Gin’s door.

  “Everyone in.” Arawn nodded at the door.

  Gin and Mathias entered first and moved to the back wall to make room. Raniero gestured for Ria to go ahead of him, but she shook her head and captured Arawn in her gaze.

  “Is this about that message you got?” she asked.

  It didn’t make sense, but just standing near her settled him. She gave him focus while at the same time stirring crazy protectiveness. “Yeah.” He gave a chin lift toward the room. “Get in.”

  She shot him a perplexed look, but walked in ahead of him.