Prey (Supernaturals of Las Vegas Book 2)

by Carina Cook

  He made it back to The Grateful Head in record time, but the cop cars were gone from the parking lot. It made sense to look anyway; perhaps Citrine had evaded them somehow and was hiding somewhere inside. The front door was locked, and when he peered through the glass, he saw no signs of her. Of course, it would have been tough to spot her in all that mess. Only a single shelving unit still stood, and based on the way it listed to one side, it might give up the fight at any moment.

  She didn’t answer to his knock, so that was a wash too. It took him a moment to look up the closest police station. He found it tough to believe that she would have been overpowered by those yahoos, even with their numbers advantage. But he couldn’t think of where else to look. Panic churned in his belly, and his wolf felt like it was pacing beneath his skin. It would destroy anyone who hurt her. Maybe he hadn’t entirely made up his mind about his feelings, but his wolf sure had.

  It looked like Citrine might have been taken to one of two stations. The shop sat right in the middle, and although he could have taken a look at the jurisdiction map to figure it out, he didn’t have the patience. It would be quicker to drive by them both. The first was a wash—he knew the officer at the front desk and so he didn’t even need to give the story he’d concocted about a case in progress. Philips confirmed that no one matching Citrine’s description was in the holding cells and even offered to let him look. Derek refused the offer with as much politeness as he could manage.

  As he pulled into the second station, Citrine came strolling out from behind the building with a smile on her face and the beginnings of a nice shiner already surfacing around her eye. He threw the car into park next to her and leaped out, unsure of what he meant to do. The urge to yell at her for scaring the crap out of him was strong, but he settled for wrapping her up into a tight hug and whispering in her ear.

  “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Citrine managed to tuck the wand back into her boot moments before Derek crushed her in a hug. She almost laughed at him. His borderline panic didn’t make much sense when he knew she carried a wand that could get her out of anything. Even jail, which seemed to be the human version of the dungeons only with slightly fewer rats. Maybe the prisoners had eaten them. She didn’t know and didn’t stay long enough to find out.

  But saying something would mean he’d pull back. Let her go. And she was enjoying the spicy smell of him, and the hard press of his muscles against her face, and the warmth of his body pressed against her. So she didn’t say a word.

  Sadly, it couldn’t last forever. He let her go and ushered her to the SUV. Helped boost her into the seat with his warm, rough hands. Shut the door gently behind her and walked around to the other side.

  When he got into the car, he was blushing.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “I was all worried about you. It’s ridiculous. I’ve seen what you can do. And now all of the questions that I want to ask are just as stupid. I don’t know what to say.”

  He ran a hand over his sandy hair, not looking at her.

  “What?” she teased. “You mean to tell me you’ve never met a three-quarter faerie, one quarter human who was imprisoned by her evil stepfather—who also happened to be a king—and forced to fight daily in the arena for her life? Aren’t those common around here?”

  It took him a moment to respond, and when he did, it took her completely by surprise.

  “Are you trying to get me to tell you how special you are?” he blurted. Then, after a moment of silence, he added, “I can’t believe I just said that.”

  She burst out laughing. It felt so good to be with someone comfortable enough to tease her, someone who couldn’t offend her—not now that she’d gotten to know him—because she knew without a doubt that he wasn’t serious. That he really did think she was special. It was the kind of camaraderie she’d managed with a few of the other gladiators, but as soon as Ilimitaine had gotten wind of any of her friendships or romantic dalliances, he’d always made sure to give that person the most dangerous of opponents. After the third death, she’d learned not to allow people to get too close.

  She didn’t need to do that anymore, and it felt great.

  After a moment of shocked glances out of the corner of his eye, Derek relaxed. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I should probably watch my mouth.”

  “Are you kidding? I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time. Oh, and I expect you to write an epic poem about all the reasons I’m special and recite it to me.”

  “I…cannot tell if you’re kidding. Is that a fae thing? Epic poetry?”

  “Yeah.” She sighed. “So don’t do it. But it was funny, wasn’t it?”

  “Hilarious.”

  They sat in comfortable silence for a moment or two, and then Citrine said, “Where are we going?”

  He pulled to a stop at a red light and glanced at her. “I was hoping you’d help me clean out the shop. Hex’s cousin Darius is going to send over some guys to help rebuild the shelves, but they won’t be able to do that with the mess on the floor. And I don’t want the manager to make a fuss.”

  “Oh, sure,” she said. “I made the mess; I should help clean it up.”

  And a mess it was. When they entered through the still-open back door, Citrine surveyed the damage with a mix of satisfaction and remorse. She’d certainly put up a good showing, and she felt certain that if she’d really wanted to, she could have taken them all down. Even when they’d piled on top of her, punching at her head, it hadn’t really hurt. Not too badly, although she had to admit that her eye was a little tender. One of the police officers had worn a ring.

  Derek seemed to feel the same way. He looked over the shop, shaking his head slowly.

  “Damn,” he said. “Remind me not to piss you off.”

  “I doubt you could if you tried.”

  They smiled at each other for a moment before Derek broke the tension—and the eye contact. He cleared his throat.

  “Okay. I’ve got some garbage bags in the back of the SUV. Why don’t you start sorting things out? Anything broken goes in one pile. Anything intact goes into another. We’ll sort and count it all when we put it back on the shelves. I’m going to call the manager and let him know that we’ll have it all fixed in no time.”

  “Sure.” Citrine leaned over and picked up a box, squinting at it. “Does this thing look like a penis on purpose? It’s a…hat. Why would anyone want a penis hat?”

  “It must be a human thing,” said Derek, flustered. “But I don’t wear penis hats, so I don’t get it either.”

  “Oh.” She inspected it closer. “At least it’s not damaged. Some lucky human will still get to wear a dick on their head.”

  He burst into laughter and left the room to get the garbage bags dialing his phone. They fell into the work easily. Citrine kept asking questions about the strange things she found on the floor. They seemed to fall into one of three categories: products related to sexual organs, products related to drugs, and products meant to be jokes. At one point, she uncovered a book that fit into all three categories. She read some of the jokes out loud to Derek, who turned red all the way to the tips of his ears. It was adorable.

  “You seem very…uncomfortable,” she teased. But this time, he didn’t tease back, and she began to worry that she’d gone too far. “I’m sorry,” she added hastily. “I’m just kidding. I thought…never mind what I thought.”

  “What?” he asked. “Tell me.”

  “I keep forgetting that humans view sex very differently than fae do. We treat it as something fun. But there seems to be a certain amount of shame about it here that I don’t understand. Or expectations. Like it means something, but I don’t understand what.”

  As she spoke, Derek’s face closed off more and more, until he reminded Citrine of a rock, with all of his feelings and emotions locked up inside.

  “So what happened in the alley, you’ve done that kind of thing many times before?” he aske
d.

  When she shook her head, it seemed to surprise him.

  “Not really. Ilimitaine tended to lash out at people I liked. It was safer not to spend time with anyone. Naked or clothed.”

  “Oh.” He was silent for a moment, sweeping the floor free of debris. “Because it did mean something to me. I don’t really know what it meant, but it meant something.”

  “Me too. I’m glad I happened to fight a troll in your favorite alley to vault over fences in.”

  “That’s one hell of a story to tell the grandkids,” said Derek, laughing.

  Citrine smiled to herself but didn’t comment. The thought of grandkids—of growing old together—appealed to her in a way that took her by surprise. Maybe she was getting ahead of herself? She didn’t have a whole lot of experience with relationships beyond the occasional give and take of pleasure. But he was the one who had brought it up, so maybe it was okay to think about this time. She didn’t know but felt too awkward to ask.

  “You know…” said Derek, eyeing her cautiously, the broom still in his hands. He looked nervous all of a sudden, leaning on the flimsy cleaning instrument like it might help support his weight. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, exposing his muscular arms and the patterns on them. “We could try it again. I mean, not the same thing as before. No alleys. But maybe I could take you on a date.”

  “A date?”

  “Don’t the fae go on dates? You go out for a meal, or a walk, or a movie. The idea is to spend time with someone you like. See if there’s a spark between you. It’s how we find potential mates.”

  Citrine shook her head. “No, we don’t have that. It’s a human thing.”

  “Oh,” said Derek, looking uncertain.

  “I’m a quarter human, you know,” she said, walking over to him and taking the broom from his hands. “It seems like I ought to do more human things, doesn’t it? If I’m going to stay here, I mean.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Her fingers traced the intricate patterns on his skin. He seemed to like the sensation. His eyes closed, and he shivered as her nail traced lightly over his skin.

  “I have to ask you a question, though,” she said.

  His eyes opened, and he looked down at her intensely. “What?” he asked, his voice rough.

  “Do all humans have these markings?” she asked. “Do they grow on your skin?”

  The tension ran out of him with his gentle laugh. “No, they’re tattoos. Markings under the skin made with ink. Do you like them?”

  She pretended to think, tapping her finger on her chin and looking up at him coyly.

  “I don’t really remember,” she said. “I’d need to see all of them.”

  “You can if you want.” His hazel eyes blazed as he looked down at her. Was it her imagination, or were they looking more yellow with every moment? She could feel his animal desire, and something inside her wanted to stoke those fires and see exactly how wild she could make him. “I’ll let you look.”

  She glanced toward the window and the parking lot beyond. Before, it hadn’t seemed to matter when or where she took her pleasure, but now, with Derek, it seemed to matter quite a lot. He deserved more than the mess inside a broken store full of penis hats. She wanted to find a place and a time where she could explore him, and he could explore her. Where she could take her time with him.

  Reluctantly, she backed away a single step. He let her go, although his face tightened with regret.

  “I’m going to make you keep that promise,” she said, and his expression lightened again. “But not here. Not now.”

  He seemed to remember where they were, looking around like he’d momentarily forgotten.

  “You deserve better than this. Of course.”

  “Funny,” she said lightly. “I was just thinking the same about you.”

  “So it’s a date, then?”

  She nodded. “Or a reward, even. For taking out Ben. Because I sure as hell am not going to sit here and wait for him to make his next move. He could hurt Hex, or Jenny, or…someone else. I’m going to stop him.”

  “No, you’re not,” he said, holding up a finger. But before she could protest, he clarified. “We. We’re going to stop him.”

  “I stand corrected,” she said, handing him the broom. “Now all we need is a plan.”

  A truck pulled up outside the building, letting out the biggest man she’d ever seen in her life. If she’d been facing him down in the arena, even she would have been nervous. But Derek just looked out the window and nodded, stepping away from her.

  “That’s Darius, here to build the shelves. Let’s finish up the shop and figure out a plan,” he suggested.

  “Sounds good. And maybe we can eat something? I’m starving.”

  His eyes raked her for a long, hot moment.

  “Me too,” he said.

  CHAPTER 12

  Derek looked over the shop one last time and nodded in satisfaction. If he hadn’t seen it firsthand, he wouldn’t have believed that the place had been ransacked that morning. It looked better than it had before, based on what he remembered about the shop, and they’d finished the job in record time. Working with other supernaturals was just so much easier than working with humans. It wasn’t a prejudice thing. But practically speaking, he could get a lot more done if he didn’t have to worry about hiding things like his strength or his sense of smell. Darius had built the shelves and lifted them into place with one hand; a feat that would have taken four normal humans to accomplish.

  Derek offered his hand to the werescorpion, who met his eyes and shook it with the kind of careful grip that you developed when you had the strength to lift shelves with one hand.

  “Thanks again, Darius. I owe you one,” he said.

  “We’ll consider this one an even trade. Thanks for looking out for my cousin. She called me first, but I didn’t hear the phone. Too loud on that construction site,” replied Darius.

  “Fair enough. But you know you can count on me if ever you need anything.”

  Darius nodded. “That I do. Nice to meet you, Citrine.”

  “You too,” she said. “And I’m really sorry to have brought this down on your family. Ben wouldn’t have bothered Hex if it wasn’t for me.”

  Darius waved away the apology like it was so much hot air. “You didn’t make the decision to enslave those men to your will. He did. So I have no beef with you.”

  Citrine’s face brightened visibly. It still touched Derek to see how she reacted every time someone was kind to her. It also made him very, very angry. The king and his people—Ben included—deserved to pay for what they’d done to her. They might not; he knew enough about the world to realize that at its core it wasn’t a fair place. But he could wish for it.

  “Thanks for saying that,” said Citrine. “I hope we’ll meet again sometime.”

  Darius smiled at her and nodded. “Maybe we’ll have dinner once you’re done kicking that fae’s ass. I’ve been trying to talk Hex into enrolling in community college and actually doing something with her life. You all could help me talk her into it.”

  “I have no idea what a community college is, but you can count on me,” said Citrine, deadpan.

  Darius chuckled. “Fair enough. Got to get back to work. I’ll check on the shifterkin on my way there, and you all get in touch with me once it’s safe for them to go back home.”

  Derek nodded. “Will do.”

  Darius let himself out, and Derek placed a quick call to the manager to let him know that the store was back in working order. The manager—whose name was Phil—arrived so quickly that Derek wondered if he’d been waiting somewhere close by for the call. But Phil didn’t ask any uncomfortable questions about how they’d managed to fix the place up so quickly. He just seemed happy that it had happened. He shook Derek’s hand no less than five times and asked for his card.

  “So I can refer you some business, man,” he said, catching the wary expression on Derek’s face. “I feel like I owe you one af
ter all you did today. I was real worried I was going to have to shut the place down for good.”

  “I’m not sure how many of your customers need private investigation services,” said Derek, handing over the card, “but if you see an opportunity to give us a referral, I’d appreciate it.”

  “And if you need any smoke supplies, or anything else, you get a 25% discount, okay? I’ll make sure my people know,” added Phil magnanimously.

  “Thanks,” said Derek, grinning. “You going to open back up today?”

  Phil considered. “Maybe. If I can get somebody in to work the register. I’ll have to make some calls. Reopen at five, if I can. Evenings are always busier anyway.”

  “We’ll leave you to it, then,” said Derek.

  Phil nodded. “Oh, and thanks, little lady,” he said to Citrine. “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t come in and kung fued the crap out of those guys.”

  Citrine looked a little confused by the terminology, but she smiled at him anyway.

  “No problem,” she said.

  The sharp growl of her stomach cut through the shop, and she looked down at it in surprise. Derek snickered.

  “I guess that’s our cue to go get a late lunch,” he said. “We’ll see you around, Phil.”

  “Yeah, man.”

  Phil turned his attention toward the list of damaged items that Derek had compiled and barely seemed to notice as they exited the store. Derek held the door for Citrine, but they remained silent and thoughtful on their way out. After Derek punched the button to start the car, he turned to her.

  “I like Darius,” she proclaimed. “Although I kind of wonder if he could grab me by the head and pick me up with one hand. You know, like…” She put her hand to the top of her head as if she was palming a basketball.