by J. N. Colon
I snorted picturing his angry face.
Lights zoomed over the dancing bodies below and turned the mist crawling over the floor varying shades of the rainbow. Shimmering lily stamps gleamed on hands, separating the humans who bore plain black ink from the nightworlders. I concentrated and glimpsed past the glamours, spotting the gossamer wings of several pixies in the mix. A couple of elves intermingled with the other fae, their pointed ears decorated by glittering silver and gold jewelry.
Every fae in the club fed off the soaring levels of emotions permeating from the humans. Happiness, love, desire, lust—the fae soaked it up like a drug. Even as a witch, the energy tempted me to let loose.
If I didn’t have to worry about Aiden’s safety, I’d give in and enjoy the party like Caleb suggested.
I studied the VIP section again, a grimace tugging at my lips as the prince grabbed one of the girls and laid her back on the sofa. He kneeled on the ground to take a body shot off her stomach, licking a trail to the top of her skirt.
My gag reflexes went into overdrive. What was so appealing about that tall, waifish, giggling idiot anyway? She probably couldn’t even spell her own name.
“Aw, you poor thing.” The blonde fae who had been with Caleb the first night I escaped into Shade appeared, her mouth formed into a dramatic pout. Iridescent wings fluttered behind her.
“Excuse me?” Wariness slithered over my skin, sinking into my stiffening muscles. This pixie didn’t have a sincere bone in her body. The scathing sneer she gave me the other night couldn’t be erased by that fake sympathetic expression.
Zeta ticked her head toward Caleb and Co. “How long have you been watching him play with those girls?”
I scoffed. “I’m not watching him. I’m just standing here.”
“It’s so obvious, sweetie. You don’t need to lie.” She rested her hand on the balcony, watching the fae prince take another shot off the girl.
Zeta didn’t seem the least bit annoyed by the scene, unlike the night the prince had intruded in my personal bubble. Zeta had clung to him like a crazy, jealous girlfriend.
“Caleb Blackwood is sex on a stick and even better in the sack than you can imagine.” She bit the tip of her tongue as if running through several delicious memories of that very thing. “It’s totally understandable that you’ve become enamored with him.”
“I’m not,” I hissed and set my drink on the nearby table. “I’d rather poke my eyes out than hop into bed with the Unseelie prince.”
Her sugary laughter graded on my ears. “I really hope that’s the case. For your sake.” Zeta leaned toward me. “Because Caleb would never stoop as low as it would take to get it on with your kind. Trust me.”
I choked back a lump rising in my throat. Her words had actually stung because I knew they were true. When Caleb threw out those flirty lines or wicked smirks, he only wanted to get a rise out of me.
“Let me give you some friendly advice,” Zeta said, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts. “Find a nice human guy to scratch that itch Caleb put in you.”
Faint violet sparks trickled over my hand. This fae really picked the wrong night to mess with me. Using my death raker powers had shortened my fuse significantly, and I’d have loved nothing more than to zap pixie Barbie right off this balcony.
“Thanks for the friendly advice, Zeta. Can I return the favor?” Without waiting on her response, I leaned forward, crowding her space in a threatening manner. “You should really learn to gauge a witch’s power before you provoke one.”
My hand reached forward. Just a little jolt wouldn’t hurt her. Much.
A relentless stare burned the side of my face, and I shifted, meeting Caleb’s scorching gaze from below. He arched a questioning brow in my direction.
Damn it.
I yanked my hand back and stormed away from a confused Zeta. She had no idea why I was working with Caleb or how dangerous I could be. Only the king and his son had Arx talismans, but I didn’t need to unleash the death raker to damage Zeta beyond repair.
When I finally made it to the elevator hidden among the tree trunks, my muscles trembled. I punched the call button so hard it could have shattered.
How could I let that stupid blonde fae get to me? I wanted nothing to do with the Unseelie prince. Nothing.
Caleb was damn hot; I’d give him that. Sex appeal dripped off the guy like morning dew off flowers, but his cocky, arrogant mouth ruined the package. And he was a complete asshole.
I stepped inside the elevator and stabbed my finger into the fifth-floor button where King Lachlan had given me a room. Caleb could sleep with as many girls as he wanted. I couldn’t care less.
My reflection caught in the silver doors, and instead of their usual gray color, a faint violet glow encompassed my eyes. I ground my teeth, forcing my magic back down before I short-circuited the elevator.
The moment the doors slid open, I stormed into the softly lit halls, crashing into a royal sentry.
“Watch where you’re going, witch!” Miles growled.
I flipped him off and marched down the hall, my boots muted on the long carpet runner. “Go kiss the king’s ass some more.”
The elevator doors closed, cutting off the rest of his insults. My fingers curled into tight fists. Tonight had already been shitty enough. Why did I have to get all worked up over a guy I couldn’t even stand?
“Ugh!” With the flick of my hand, my door whipped open and I stormed in, slamming it shut.
The stainless steel and glass pendant lights hanging from the tray ceiling flicked on, casting a soft glow across the posh furniture. The perfect whiteness against dark floors and pristine, elegant décor made me feel right at home—in my mother’s house.
A chill slithered down my back. Had the king known tossing me into this perfectionist’s paradise would be torture?
I rolled my shoulders as I stared at the plush bed across the room, getting a strong urge to hurl the overabundance of fluffy pillows around. Maybe I should spill some red wine all over the ivory rug beneath the coffee table.
A knock pounded on the door, shattering my fantasy.
I stormed over and yanked it open, finding none other than a smirking Caleb. “Go away.”
His foot stuck into the gap before I could slam the door, and he barreled inside. “Zeta said I had an admirer at the balcony.”
I scoffed even as warmth blossomed in my face. Watching his tongue slide over that girl’s belly as he took a body shot off of her had my mind traveling to dangerous places. “Your friend was mistaken, Tinkerbell.”
Wind stirred as he slammed the door shut. The snap of the lock sent my pulse quaking.
“You’re in the wrong room.” Violet bolts of magic crackled along my fingertips.
Caleb stalked forward, invading my personal bubble with his intoxicating bergamot and citrus spice. “Oh, I’m definitely in the right room, Rose Thorn.”
Blistering heat slithered across my flesh as he continued his pursuit until my back crashed into the wall. Every drop of moisture evaporated from my mouth.
Shit. Now that he had me trapped, what did the prince intend to do?
Chapter 12
“Go away, Caleb.” I meant the words to be forceful and sharp. Instead, they softly floated between my ragged breaths. “I’m not in the mood to deal with you anymore tonight.”
The fae prince’s body pressed against mine, his masculine energy stealing every drop of oxygen from the room. “Then what are you in the mood for?”
“Not this.” The tingles radiating through my lower half would beg to differ.
His chuckle poured out like melting butter. “This is exactly what you want.” Caleb gripped my wrists, lifted them above my head, and pinned them to the wall.
“What the hell are you—”
He pressed his finger over my lips, sugar and honey lingering on his skin. “You really need to let loose and have some fun, Rose Thorn.”
Movement caught my attention, and I glanced
up as vines slithered out of the ceiling. Did plants grow in every crevice of this building? The waxy strands slinked around my arms and bound them to the wall.
I struggled in the shackles as my heart danced to a frantic staccato. “Caleb, whatever game you’re playing, stop.”
“But my kind of games are fun.” His lips ran along my jaw, and my breath hitched. “I know you don’t really want me to stop.”
“Yeah, I do.” My head screamed at me to shove him away, but instead, I shifted forward to rub against him.
Caleb’s dark laugh vibrated my neck as the smooth metal of his lip piercing moved across my skin. “If you wanted me to stop, it would take nothing for you to break out of those vines and push me off.”
The douchebag had a point.
He drew back, his gaze searching my face. “How did you get this scar?” His finger ran over the zigzagged white mark slicing my left eyebrow. “I’ve been wondering.”
Ellexia didn’t appreciate me releasing one of her prisoners. “None of your business,” I snapped, unwilling to relive that day. He didn’t get to know those secrets.
He made a humming sound, and then his touch moved to the freckle below my lip. “This beauty mark is almost as distracting.” A storm brewed in his eyes as he stared between the two imperfections. “You are a mystery of beauty and pain, Rose Thorn.”
I choked back the sigh dangling on the tip of my tongue. Why was he doing this? He was taking this teasing thing a little too far.
A frustrated huff slipped out. “What do you want, Caleb?”
“That’s a loaded question.” His hand slipped beneath my shirt, his fingers burning a trail over my torso. “I want lots of things.”
That mouthwatering scent of his wrapped me in a blanket of temptation. I could scarcely breathe, but the spicy cloud barreled into my senses like a tidal wave crashing into the shore. Nothing could stop it.
Caleb shifted forward, his lips pressing into my neck, hot breath teasing my already raw nerve endings. I clenched my teeth to keep the groan from breaking free. For shit’s sake, this guy was going to have me undone in seconds. Heat already twisted low in my core, and my insides began to quake.
“What do you want, Rose Thorn?” His gruff voice sent goose bumps over my heated body. Before I could even form a coherent thought that didn’t involve how he felt against me, Caleb’s hand traveled higher up my ribs until his palm met my bra. The pad of his thumb brushed across my breast, and I couldn’t stop the sharp intake of air from hitting the nonexistent space between us.
“I want…” Was I really letting this jerk unravel me when I hated him?
Hate was such a strong word, though. And I hadn’t been touched by a guy since returning to Chicago. I’d been so busy working and keeping an eye out for Maleor Suprema coven members.
But him?
Caleb shifted until his mouth hovered over mine. I could practically taste him. “What do you want?”
My head moved the tiniest bit forward, and our lips brushed. A jolt of electricity crackled.
Something wicked stirred beneath his rumbling laugh. “Like I said at Jake’s earlier, I could have anyone I wanted. Even you.” Caleb’s words—or the humor in them—shattered the heated moment like a bucket of water dumped over a fire.
Blood pounded in my ears as the room spun. “What?”
“I’m just not sure I’m ready to hop into bed with a witch.” He planted a kiss on the scar slashing my eyebrow. “But keep trying. For you, I might crack.” His signature smirk appeared.
That son of a bitch.
I ripped my hands from the vines as Caleb darted out of my room, laughter following in his wake.
Waves of hot and cold embarrassment drowned my system. He was playing with me, just like I’d thought. The bastard wanted to see how far I’d let him take his little game.
A scream tore from my mouth, and I sent the glass coffee table flying across the room, shattering it against the wall.
As the anger wore off, I slid to the floor, my chest heaving. That jackass had gotten me all turned on and then threw it back in my face.
I ground every tooth in my mouth so hard they threatened to crack. When this little partnership ended, I was going to make him suffer. I didn’t give a shit that he was the prince of the Unseelie Court.
Until then, I had to keep a calm, level head around him.
A humorless laugh slipped out. I needed to get out of Shade and away from Caleb before I did something regrettable.
Fried food, cooking oil, and warmth swam over me when I wrenched the door to Sam’s Diner—my latest job failure—open, the bell jingling to alert my presence. The clatter of silverware scraping plates and the hum of conversations swirled around booths nestled against windows and rickety square tables cluttering the center.
And just my luck, Francis leaned his chubby arms on the Formica countertop with a smarmy smile as if he owned the place.
My mouth twisted toward the scuffed black and white checkered floor. I wouldn’t want those hairy extremities anywhere near my food.
His fat finger pointed in my direction while he scowled, turning him into a cartoon version of a snarling pit bull. “You had way too many chances, Thea. I am not in the business of giving jobs back.”
I climbed onto a red vinyl stool, flicking my hair over my shoulder to avoid a lone French fry that had fallen off a customer’s plate. “Sorry, Francis, but I didn’t come here to grovel for my job. I’m here for my last paycheck.”
A pair of beat cops a couple seats down snorted. They were regulars and had witnessed my inability to remember even a single order correctly.
Francis waddled in my direction, his muddy eyes narrowed. “I’ll get your last check—minus the comps I had to dole out the other night from all your screw-ups.”
My molars ground as a faint crackle zipped over my hands before I could rein in the power. If my former boss had any idea of what I was capable of, he’d think twice before insulting me. “Just get it,” I muttered instead of tearing him a new one.
I crossed my arms, crinkling Caleb’s leather jacket I had yet to return. The fact that I was forced to wear it because mine had been left at the shifter bar was bad enough, but his scent clung to the smooth black material. I couldn’t escape the jerk even when he was miles away back at Shade doing goddess knows what in the club tonight.
A couple of days had passed, and I still couldn’t get those images of him pressing me against the wall out of my mind. I cracked my neck and squeezed my lids shut. The feel of his body and his lips still taunted me.
How could I have fallen for his bullshit? I knew the prince despised witches, so why would I ever take his flirting seriously?
Caleb had seemed thrown by this weirdness between us—like when our powers brushed together before sneaking into the summit—but those instances were few and fleeting.
“Thea, sweetheart!” One of the veteran waitresses at Sam’s marched behind the counter, setting down a stack of empty plates. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” A smile deepened the crinkles around her heavily lined lips and stretched the crow’s feet framing her blue eyes.
“Hi, Sheila. I’m only here to get my last paycheck.”
The aroma of cigarettes wafted off her, and the outline of a rectangular pack pressed against the pocket of her gingham apron. Francis didn’t like the staff taking too many breaks, but Sheila had been employed at Sam’s for twenty-some-odd years. He’d lose half the customers if he fired her.
Her weathered fingers picked up a lock of my purple hair. “I like this. It suits you.”
Probably because I was born with it. “Thanks, Sheila.”
“Let me get you a snack, sugar.” She gently patted my cheek and walked away before I could protest.
I shifted the silver napkin holder until my vibrant hair appeared in the dull, greasy surface. A sigh drifted out. There was no point in dying it black now. I was fully immersed in the supernatural world again.
“Here
you go. One of your favorites.” Sheila placed a steaming plate of fries and a frothy vanilla milkshake on the counter. “It’s on the house.” She gave a conspiratorial wink.
My stomach growled. “You’re the best.” I grabbed a hot fry and dipped it into the milkshake before cramming it into my mouth. The salty-sweet flavors had a party on my tongue.
I’d barely eaten anything since moving into Shade. Food stocked the kitchen in my fancy studio apartment, but I had no idea how to prepare raw chicken or steak. Where the hell were the microwave dinners?
I needed this paycheck for a trip to the grocery store no matter how scant Francis made it after the comps.
Sheila plucked the pencil from her frizzy blonde bun stippled with gray. “I gotta get back to my tables, sweetie. You sit here as long as you like. Don’t worry about Francis. I’ll take care of him.”
“Thanks,” I said, and then she ambled toward a table, a bright smile crinkling her face. Sheila was a little tired and worn, but her eyes never dulled.
My throat tightened. How different would my life be if I had someone like Sheila for a mom instead of the obsessive-compulsive, perfectionist freak Lilian Rosalee? Would my dad have stayed around?
Probably not.
The bell jingled again as two guys entered the diner, the blaring of car horns echoing before the door closed behind them. My scalp prickled, and I quickly angled away, pretending I hadn’t noticed the vampires strolling to a booth in the corner.
“Here.” Francis slapped a meager paycheck on the counter, rattling my plate. “Good luck, Thea.” A savage grin appeared. “And good riddance. I feel sorry for your next employer.”
I flipped him off. “Go to hell, Francis.”
He sneered and pivoted, disappearing into the kitchen to fry some more meat.
Someone was going to smack the mess out of him one day. Sadly, it wouldn’t be me because I never intended to see that creep again.
I peeked over my shoulder at the vampires, two attractive males in their early twenties. Their immortal lives hadn’t been that long. They still had that freshly turned look and a blush warming their cheeks.