Guild of Secrets (Obsidian Queen Book 1)

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Guild of Secrets (Obsidian Queen Book 1) Page 14

by Shannon Lynn Cook


  All traces of emotion fall from Gray’s face. It’s a little scary, actually.

  “I didn’t arrest Morris,” he says evenly. “We had nothing to do with him.”

  An unladylike word pops into my head, but I keep it to myself. I desperately wanted Rafe to be lying, but it seems Finn’s the one who’s been spinning tales.

  “Madeline.” Gray’s tone is still too careful. “I want you to call Finn and tell him where we are. Right now.”

  But…I don’t want to.

  Something tells me Gray won’t care. A hard knot coils in my stomach as I pull up Finn’s number. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and he won’t answer.

  “Madeline,” Finn says in a rush, answering right after the first ring. “I’m so glad you called. I—”

  “Shut up for a minute,” I say, drawing in a deep breath. “I have to tell you something.”

  He’s quiet, not used to being told what to do, but he finally says, “All right.”

  “Have you heard about the pixie killing bank tellers and impersonating them to steal private information to sell to identity thieves?”

  “It sounds like the start of a bad joke.”

  “Finn,” I growl, losing my patience.

  “No, I haven't,” he says slowly, finally aware something is wrong. “But I don’t get notified about most of the cases the Knights’ Guild handles, only the most severe ones.”

  That’s not severe? Idly, I wonder what they consider a case worth letting him know about.

  “Well, we’re in Tahoe to collect him,” I tell Finn quickly, wanting to get the task behind me. “You said you wanted to know where the team went, so this is me, letting you—”

  “You’re where?”

  That knot coils tighter, and my eyes begin to sting. I so didn’t want him to be a part of this. The man I built up in my mind, the man who was above all reproach, the man I dreamed of kissing when I was seventeen and then dreamed of marrying when I was a little older…isn’t who I thought he was. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say he’s not who I hoped he was.

  “South Lake Tahoe,” I answer, pretending it means nothing to me. “We believe we’ll find him tomorrow.”

  “You were supposed to tell me before you traveled all the way to California!” he exclaims, his voice getting louder with anger.

  He’s so loud, in fact, I have to hold the phone a little ways from my ear.

  “What the hell, Madeline?” he hollers.

  And that’s when Gray grabs the cell right out of my hand and lays into his younger brother.

  I go into the bedroom, not wanting to listen. Charles is asleep on the bed, but he picks up his head when I walk in the door. I toss myself on the covers and pull the cat to me, holding him to my chest like a doll. Then I cover my head with a pillow, trying to block out the sound of Gray’s heated argument with Finn.

  A few minutes later, the call ceases abruptly, and the door opens.

  “Madeline,” Gray says from above me.

  Charles squirms from my arms, but I ignore the knight, choosing to remain under the pillow. It’s nice under here. Simple, quiet, cottony. Unlike beyond the pillow, where life basically sucks.

  I wait several moments, but it’s obvious he’s not going away. “How did I get mixed up in all this?” I ask.

  “It certainly wasn’t my doing.”

  Sighing, I peek out from under the pillow. “What do we do?”

  Gray looks like he wants to punch something, most likely his brother’s face. Well, get in line.

  “You’re going to have dinner with Rafe,” he says. “Let him tell you where the pixie is going to be tomorrow, and then we’ll deal with Finn once we’re back in Denver.”

  “You read my text.”

  He gives me a hard look. “I sure did, Lexie.”

  Embarrassed, I sit up, pulling the pillow with me. Then I smack him across the stomach, taking out my frustration on him. When he doesn’t react, I hit him again.

  “What are you doing?” he deadpans, not even flinching when I pelt him once more.

  “That’s for reading my text.” Smack. “That’s for dragging me here.” Smack. “That’s for basically pimping me out to Rafe for the sake of the guild.”

  When I attempt to hit him one more time, he yanks the pillow from my hands, tosses it aside, and stalks forward. Then he rests his knee on the bed next to my thigh and moves in. “I’m not pimping you out.”

  And…we’re rather close. But I want to be closer.

  “No?” I demand. “It sounds like it.”

  He narrows his eyes. “If he so much as touches you, I’ll—”

  “You’ll what?” Feeling reckless, I add a dose of charisma to my voice and say, “Tell me, Gray. What will you do?”

  “Madeline.” His voice is hard, his eyes harder. It’s a reprimand—a chastisement from the leader of my team, not the man who almost kissed me last night. “This is not the time.”

  I move forward, forcing him to shift back or touch me, and pull my legs under me until I’m standing on my knees atop the bed. Because Gray’s still crouched in front of me, I’m finally tall enough to truly meet him at eye level. “Answer me. What will you do?”

  Then, testing him, I set my hands on his shoulders and slowly, slowly, drag them down his chest. He’s solid muscle, and I can feel him tense at my touch.

  “You’re upset,” he murmurs, his eyes dropping to my lips. “I’m not going to take advantage of that.”

  I let my hands rove lower, until my fingers toy with the hem of his T-shirt. I am upset, that’s true.

  But I want Gray, and I’m done feeling guilty about it. Finn deserves none of my loyalty.

  I pull his shirt up a fraction of an inch. When my fingers meet bare flesh, the knight draws in a sharp breath through his teeth. It sounds like a hiss, and for unknown reasons, it fans the flames in my chest.

  “Are you sure? You don’t want to take advantage even a little bit?” I murmur, and then I meet his eyes. “Because you can. If you want.”

  “Madeline,” he warns again, but this time, his voice is strained with indecision.

  I press my palms flat against the ridges of his abdomen and sigh, irritated. “But you won’t, will you? You’re too much of a Wolf.”

  Gray clenches his teeth and closes his eyes, visibly cringing as my hands make their way over his warm skin. But he doesn’t step away—doesn’t make any sort of move to put space between us.

  Not even when I twist my hand in his shirt and yank it up.

  His eyes burn into mine. “What are you doing?” he whispers, his tone deliciously dark.

  “What does it look like?”

  To my great surprise, with his gaze locked on mine, he shifts back and finishes the job, pulling the shirt off completely.

  And I suddenly realize I’ve made a grave error. I thought I was in charge this whole time, but I’m not. As soon as the shirt falls onto the floor, Gray lets out a low growl and crawls forward, fully onto the bed, forcing me to scoot back.

  “What did you think you’d accomplish by undressing me?” He presses forward, a predator stalking his prey.

  My mouth goes dry, and those butterflies riot in my stomach.

  “Answer me,” he says, a tingle of charisma in his voice. I don’t even think he does it on purpose, but it leaves me breathless.

  “I was hoping you’d finally shut up and kiss me,” I say in an unsteady, sadly needy voice—and it’s not because I can’t resist his magic. It’s because I want this.

  Gray’s eyes wander down, over me, making me feel as if he can see right through my fitted T-shirt and yoga pants. “I could have accomplished that with my shirt on.”

  I bite my lip, fighting a nervous, euphoric giggle. This is happening.

  I’m not, however, able to conceal my wicked grin. “Yes, but imagine how much better you’ll do with it off.”

  He suddenly snorts, lowering his head as he laughs. It’s a chuckle, full of amusement. It warms places I didn�
��t know existed.

  Once he’s finished, he shakes his head and crawls backward, leaving the bed.

  “Where are you going?” I demand.

  He leans down and snatches his shirt off the floor. “We have a pixie to catch, and I have to figure out what to do with my fool brother.”

  “Gray Tate,” I say, putting a full dose of persuasion in my voice. “Don’t you dare walk out that door.”

  He winces as the magic falls over him. His shirt goes still in his hands, and he meets my eyes. The want is evident in his stormy gaze, so why is fighting it?

  “Do you think you can order me around, princess?”

  I close my eyes, feeling the full weight of his charisma. He’s fighting just as dirty as I am.

  He moves closer, and when I open my eyes, I find him kneeling in front of me, still gloriously shirtless.

  “I can try,” I finally answer.

  “Tell me exactly what you want,” he says, his voice a silken whisper. “Let’s see how strong you are.”

  “I want you to kiss me.” This time I'm too flustered to put much magic into it.

  He moves closer, eliminating some of the space between us. “You can do better than that.”

  I swallow, and my stomach clenches. “Kiss me,” I command.

  Again, he shifts a fraction closer, moving so his lips brush my ear. “Again.”

  Adding every drop of power I possess, I snarl, “I swear if you don’t stop toying with me—”

  Gray makes a noise deep, deep in his throat and moves forward, cutting off my words with his mouth.

  His lips are firm, demanding, searing. I’m so overwhelmed by sensation, I go still, unable to respond.

  Gray’s kissing me. Shirtless. On a bed.

  “Breathe,” he whispers against my lips, and then he kisses me again, softer this time, coaxing.

  That one word is all it takes to snap me out of my Gray-induced stupor. I press against him, running my hands up his bare chest, wanting more, more, more.

  He groans. I whimper. Somehow, I end up flat on my back. Gray hovers over me, holding his weight on his elbows so he doesn’t crush me as he trails feather-light kisses along my jaw and then down my throat.

  Unfortunately, this is the position Jonathan finds us in when he barges through the door.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Gray pulls back. I sit up, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights.

  Jonathan raises a dark brow and leans against the door frame. He wags my phone in the air. “Madeline’s date just texted. He expects to meet her in fifteen minutes. Do you think you can let her off the bed long enough for her to do her job?”

  My cheeks flame, and I glance at the lamp on the side table, debating whether I should throw it at the Griffon’s head.

  Gray pulls himself off the bed, looking irritated that we were interrupted…and something else. I’m not sure what, but it worries me. He finds his discarded shirt and pulls it over his head. “Go away, Jonathan.”

  “Sure thing, boss.” But before he goes, the Griffon turns to me, his expression growing mischievous. “Next time you need comfort, Maddie, feel free to seek me out.”

  He ducks out with a wink before I can change my mind and chuck the lamp across the room.

  Slowly, feeling awkward to the nth degree, I slide my legs off the bed and stand, checking my hair in the vanity mirror.

  Gray appears behind me, close but not touching. Our eyes meet in the mirror. He brushes my hair from my neck, and then his hands settle on my hips, his fingers just barely resting on the heated skin above the waistband of my yoga pants. I close my eyes, the memory of his kiss fresh in my mind.

  “We need to work on your control when you’re flustered,” he says, lowering his lips to my neck. “Your magic was all over the place.”

  “Is that what this was?” I murmur, angling my head so he has better access. “A lesson?”

  “What else would it be?”

  I open my eyes, meeting his gaze again.

  He gives me a cryptic look before his hands leave my hips and he brushes my hair back in place. “We’re working together, princess. You dated my brother. It would be unwise for us to—”

  “Get tangled up?” I interrupt, enjoying the way his eyes darken.

  “Exactly.”

  I turn to face him. “So you don’t mind if I find Jonathan next time I’m upset?” Gray flinches, just as I hoped he would, and I press further. “Or Eric or…Rafe?”

  He stiffens. “Be cautious with Rafe, Madeline. You can never fully trust a Fox.”

  I tilt my chin up, hardening my gaze. “I see.”

  A dark smile flickers across his face, and I realize he’s baiting me, just as I baited him. His fingers drift over the small of my back as he steps away, heading toward the door. “The more tempting they are, the more dangerous.”

  As he leaves, I call out, “And what about me? Am I dangerous?”

  He looks back, his eyes sweeping over me. “You’re as dangerous as they come, princess.”

  ***

  I find Rafe waiting at the table in the back of the dark restaurant, just where he said he’d be. He sits with his back to the wall, surveying the room, and watches me as I make my way to him.

  I changed before I left, put on a skirt and heels, tossed my hair in a messy, but sophisticated bun. I think I look pretty good, and Rafe’s careful smirk confirms that I might be right.

  As soon as I reach him, I set my clutch on the table, slide into my chair, and announce, “You’re going to tell me what kind of history you have with Gray.”

  His eyes narrow ever so slightly. “Gray’s lovely new Fox isn’t good at keeping her mouth shut, is she?”

  I give him a tight smile. “I owe you nothing.”

  “You do if you want Trent’s planned location.”

  Leaning forward, I say, “You want him gone as badly as the people of Tahoe want him out of their banks.”

  His mouth tilts in a crooked smile. “What’s your story? Why is a girl like you working for the Knights’ Guild?”

  I feel like I should probably take offense to that, but seriously—why is a girl like me working for the Knights’ Guild?

  “Finn placed me with Gray’s team.”

  “I already know that—I do try to stay in the loop.”

  “Did you know he put me on the team so I could keep him informed about Gray’s location?”

  Rafe leans back in his chair, settling in for a long conversation, and chuckles. “That’s not truly why he put you on the team.”

  I press my lips together, waiting.

  Needing no further prompting, he cocks his head. “You dated Finn, correct?”

  “Briefly.” If you can even it call it that.

  “Do you think he’s stupid enough to put his girlfriend on his older brother’s team knowing you’d be working together as closely as you are?” He leans forward. “Knowing that Gray has fallen into bed with not one, but two of his past female teammates?”

  I stare at him, suddenly feeling a little lightheaded.

  “The first was at the academy, the second…a few years after that,” Rafe continues. “You were a distraction—and an expendable one. Finn wanted Gray too preoccupied with you to figure out what he was up to with Morris. It was just a bonus that his catnip mouse has been wrapped around his finger since she was a starry-eyed teen. You were putty in Lord Finnegan’s hands.”

  The man’s words swirl in my head, making me dizzy.

  “Are you all right?” Rafe asks suddenly, his voice changing. It’s not concerned exactly—more like slightly less disinterested.

  Grasping the glass of ice water in front of me, I nod and take a long gulp.

  “Careful there with that water, Lexie,” he teases darkly. “The night’s still young.”

  “Madeline.” I set the glass down on the table with a clunk and growl, “My name is Madeline. Not Lexie or Maddie or Princess.”

  Rafe raises his eyebrow ever so slightly. “
This is a sore subject for you, isn’t it?”

  “Two?” I demand.

  It takes him a moment to realize what I’m asking, but then he sits back again, any trace of amusement gone. “Two. The second just happened to be my girlfriend.”

  Well, that answers a lot of questions.

  Rafe taps a salt shaker on the table, his expression almost clinical. “You could say Gray has a difficult time separating work and pleasure.”

  I feel…I don’t know. I thought Gray and I had a connection. But apparently, I have a pulse, and that’s the Wolf’s only criteria.

  “You’re lucky number three, aren’t you?” Rafe asks, nodding away our waiter when he comes to the table, silently telling the man to give us a moment.

  The waiter’s gaze lingers over me as he quickly fills my water glass, but then he hurries away, off to help his other tables.

  We’re working together, princess, Gray said not thirty minutes ago. It would be unwise.

  “Where’s Trent going to be in the morning?” I demand, ready to leave.

  I’ll get the information, give it to Jonathan, and then I’m catching a flight home.

  “I don’t know yet. If I did, do you think I’d be sitting here, talking to you, allowing Trent to murder another human? He’s a pixie. Keeping track of him is impossible. All I know is he’ll brag about it in the morning. He can’t help himself.”

  I sit back, my stomach rolling. I didn’t think about that. Right now, Trent’s out there, preying on someone who just wants to go home to his or her family.

  “Haven’t you even tried?” I demand.

  Anger flashes in Rafe’s eyes. “Of course I have. You attempt to follow someone who can change appearances at will. If I were a Griffon, it would be another matter entirely, but I’m a Fox. Can you see magic?”

  The helplessness, the fury, is written across Rafe’s face. For some reason it soothes me, makes me feel better to know that he’s not a callous beast.

  “No,” I admit softly.

  “Neither can I. Griffons are the only people who are able to track pixies.”

  We sit in silence for several moments, processing the conversation. Finally, I look up. “Then what am I doing here?”

 

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