by May Dawson
“I don’t mind any of you,” she said.
“Any of us?” I knew she meant Cade and Nix and me, but I raised my eyebrows. “You don’t mind us? There are so many things wrong with that sentence.”
“What? Faint praise?”
“I require lots of praise,” I teased. “You know Hunter egos.”
She pretended to groan. “Don’t tell me you’re as bad as those other two.”
“Maybe I’m just as bad as you.”
She seemed to think that over before she admitted, “Maybe.”
“So where’s my praise?” I leaned in toward her, bracing my arms on either side of her at the sink. “I’ve told you how pretty you are.”
“Have you?”
“I think the way I looked at you trying on those dresses—“
“That seemed like lust,” she cut me off.
“It’s not just lust.”
“So it is partially lust.” She looked up at me, a mischievous smile twisting her lips.
“I’ve seen the way you look at me when we’re training. Don’t tell me I’m the only one.” The curve of her cheekbones when she smiled made me want to make her smile more. She was so beautiful.
“You do need your praise, don’t you?”
“You’re the one who requires I tell you how pretty you are.”
“Oh, I’ve required it? So far you’re doing a piss-poor job of following orders. Just as Cade would expect.”
I fixed her with a stern expression. “We’re trying to have a moment here. Please stop bringing up my brother.”
“Are we? A moment? And what exactly is involved in a moment?”
I’d intended to kiss the bridge of her strong nose, the curve of her cheekbone, the mischievous quirk at the corner of her lips, the pronounced Cupid’s bow, and tell her how perfect I found each one.
But when she looked at me like that, I couldn’t resist anymore. I leaned in to her.
Her head tilted back, her chin rising as she raised her lips to mine.
Our lips clashed together in a wild, passionate kiss, even though our bodies weren’t touching. When her lips seared to mine, my heart raced faster than it ever did in a fight.
Still, I drew back. “You know damn well what’s involved in a moment.”
“Do I?” she asked, her brows arching over those vivid green eyes. “Maybe we could try it again.”
The two of us traded kisses. Her thighs tightened around my waist, drawing me even closer toward her. I could lose myself in the sweetness of her mouth.
She ran her hands up my chest, and my muscles tightened at the contact. Things between the two of us kept heating up. Her hands wandered my body, and I finally moved one hand from the hard edge of the counter and touched her thigh instead. Her muscle shivered under my touch, and she looked up at me with a wanton look in her eyes, her lips parted.
When she looked at me like that, it was hard to remember we had a mission.
It wasn’t as if Truby would be any more or less wicked if we waited another hour.
My body stirred at her hands sliding across my waist, then underneath my shirt. I’d half-dressed for the evening already.
“What I was going to say,” I added, “before you decided to bring up my brother, who is always a killjoy, apparently… is that I really love this little quirk at the corner of your mouth. It might be my favorite thing about your smile.”
I kissed the corner of her lip, and the quirk deepened.
“I don’t know about you Hunters,” she said. “Maybe you have strange tastes.”
“Most likely,” I said, because there were a wide variety of kinky things I’d love to explore one day with the right girl. But I frowned. “What does that mean now, though?”
“I’ve never been the pretty girl.” Her lips pursed ruefully. Then she went on in a hurry. “I’ve never minded, though. I like who I am. I’m just not the kind of girl who wears beautiful dresses and makeup and who men pay attention to—”
“You could be,” I cut in. “You’re wearing a beautiful dress and makeup tonight, and you look irresistible. And when you’ve been fighting, in your everyday classes, in a ponytail and leather pants—you also look irresistible to me.”
Jesus, if other men paid attention to her, my brother might lose his mind. I’d never seen Cade have a jealous streak before. I’d never seen him care enough to be jealous.
I went on, “You’re perfect the way you are. You’re badass and tough, yes, and feisty and sweet and funny. And beautiful.”
I said the last two words firmly, daring her to defy me.
Her cheeks tinged faintly pink, but she didn’t argue with me. “Thank you.”
I shook my head. I didn’t want her to thank me. I wanted her to believe me.
But I didn’t know what else to say, so I just kissed her again.
I kissed her with all the passion I felt, and her breath hitched as she shifted even closer to me. I wrapped my hands around her hips, my fingertips resting on the muscular curve of her ass to make sure she didn’t fall off the edge of the counter. When she ran her hands over my biceps to rest on my shoulders, my eyes drifted shut, lost in the feel of her body against mine.
Her hand slid down my pecs, down my abs, down to the waistband of my jeans. My cock was already hard, but suddenly it was painfully hard with the promise.
With other Hunter girls, I’d never hesitated. Hunter kids joked that we fought, flirted and fucked without making a big deal of it like civilians. Our lives tended toward the short and bloody, and there was no time to waste.
But this was different. Deidra was barely part of this world. I didn’t want to hurt her.
And I didn’t want to get hurt myself, either. I wouldn’t be able to move on from Deidra like I had after meaningless, pleasant sex with other Hunter girls. It wasn’t going to be the same at all.
I pulled away reluctantly, my heart hammering in my chest. “We should get to the Dark Apple.”
She gazed up at me, her teeth catching her lower lip in a way that made me want to bite that lip myself.
“Right,” she murmured. “Mission first.”
Let her think that. It wasn’t the mission I was trying to put first.
It was her.
I offered her my hand, and she rested her fingers on my palm, an unusually dainty move. She flashed me a smile as she slid off the countertop.
I already regretted stopping things, but I’d done the right thing. Right?
Chapter Twenty-One
Deidra
Inside the Dark Apple, music seemed to pulse from the walls, heady and breathless. Tristan and I paused on the catwalk above the dance floor; there were rows of booths overlooking the dance floor, with thick plush satin seats. Most of them were occupied by people who drank and leaned close together to talk.
Then I glimpsed a woman’s leg up on a table, her white skin shining under the lights as it glided back and forth with her movement, and as I stared, the man on top of her materialized out of the shadows. The two of them rocked back and forth. Her head lifted from beneath the table, her lips parted in pleasure, before her long-nailed fingers crept over the back of his head and drew him down with her.
I glanced away, suddenly embarrassed. I hadn’t meant to stare.
Tristan held out his hand, and together, the two of us headed down the stairs. The dance club had been enchanted to allow only witches—and their friends/victims—to enter. And we hadn’t been able to bring weapons in; we’d been checked—politely—at the entryway, before blank-eyed servants took our coats.
Tris had warned me that would happen before we left. “But why would I need a weapon when I have you?”
“I think you might be giving me too much credit,” I’d shot back.
He’d arched his eyebrow at me skeptically, then kissed me instead of arguing with me.
Tristan’s faith in me was touching, but I still much preferred carrying a blade.
“We’ve been in here less than a minute and
already it seems like this place is full of debauchery,” I muttered to Tristan.
“It’s not all bad,” he agreed.
The two of us reached the dance floor, where young people seemed to undulate in a wave of bodies, dancing freely to the music.
Tristan drew me against him. He moved with practiced grace, as beautiful on the dance floor as he was in a fight. When his hips undulated against mine, no matter how awkward I felt, my nipples pebbled and my thighs tightened. The throb of lust was so intense that I would’ve thought it was magic…except I always felt this way when I was close to Tristan.
He leaned in close to me. Over the noise of the music, no one could hear him; I barely could. “You couldn’t look more as if you’d rather have a sword in your hand.”
“I wish I did,” I hissed back. My lips brushed the corner of his ear, and the contact made me bite my lip.
I found myself glaring at Tristan, but I wasn’t mad at him in the slightest. I was mad at me. I was so awkward with him and this situation.
“Loosen up,” he told me, gripping my hips and rolling them toward him. Each of his fingers pressed individually into the curve of my ass. “You’ve got to learn to find fun where you can. Otherwise, this life is going to wear you down.”
“Is that your fortune cookie wisdom for the day?”
“It’s my life philosophy.” He had his usual teasing tone, but there was something sad in his eyes.
Tristan hid all his hurting parts under easy smiles and glib words, the way I hid mine under wisecracks and fight.
I wanted to know every part of him, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to offer the same.
Instead, I did my best to lose myself in the magic as I moved with his body. My hands slipped up his chest as he cupped my hips. I breathed in the clean scent of his aftershave, and his own pleasant warm musk underneath.
Then my hips were against his, his thigh between mine, and the two of us were dancing close, and it didn’t feel strange anymore. I found myself smiling, enjoying the tension of his body against mine, the way it stroked fierce desire in me that neither of us could act on. From the way his hands tightened around my hips, he felt it too.
Then he leaned in close to me. “It’s a young crowd here for the most part—witches and victims both—but it seems like the older folks are up on the catwalk.”
I nodded, subtly turning my gaze up to look at the catwalk. Tristan leaned down, pressing his lips to my throat. His lips caressing mine gave me an excuse to have my chin lifted, my eyes roaming the catwalk, but his touch was driving me wild. I bit my lip, trying not to be distracted by how good his kisses felt.
I scanned the catwalk, looking for older faces.
Then a man stepped up to the catwalk. His soft brown hair was gelled back from his deep widow’s peaks. He leaned against the railing, and he looked straight to me. His green eyes seemed to glow when they met mine, even at this distance.
Truby.
“He’s here,” I whispered to Tristan. There was no point in pretending I didn’t see him. “Shit, Tris. It’s him.”
“We want it to be him,” he reminded me. “You’ve got this, Deidra.”
When he squeezed my hips encouragingly, his fingers sank deeper into my ass in a way that made me want to grind against him. No matter how anxious I was the second I saw the witch, I was still all turned-on from being so close to Tristan.
I looked up, and my father cocked a finger at me, beckoning me to come to him. As soon as he’d done that, though, he stepped back from the railing. He melted into the shadows.
Tristan offered me his arm. Together, the two of us swept up the stairs.
“He might not even really be here,” I reminded us both. “It might be another trick.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. But we’ll still be one step closer.”
Yeah, we’d be one step closer—if I said all the right things. If I didn’t blow it.
If I did blow it, what was the chance of two unarmed Hunters making it out of the covens’ hot spot alive?
When we reached the top of the catwalk, there was no one waiting for us. The conversations—and the other things—happening at the tables went on, without anyone paying any attention to us.
Suddenly, I felt someone move behind us.
No one at the tables around us batted an eyelash as bags were thrown over our heads. I lashed out with my fists, and felt my fist connect with someone, who grunted in pain. I could hear my own breathing rough in my ears as dark fabric filled my vision.
“We’re not here to hurt you,” said the man behind me, his grip tight on my throat. “We’re taking you to see your father. Relax.”
Easy for him to say.
As we were dragged out, the music and conversation around us never faltered.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Tristan
One of the men threw a bag over my head, and the world went black. They dragged us out of the club.
I slammed into the floor of a van, my head slamming hard into the plastic mat. Where was Deidra? Despite the pain radiating through my head, I stilled, trying to listen for her.
“I want to go with you,” she said, her voice muffled through the bag. “Get off me!”
Her body slammed into mine. Someone slammed the door shut.
My hands weren’t bound anymore; they must have used magic. I ripped the bag off my head and scrambled up, only to see Deidra doing the same across from me. Her hair was disheveled, and she was breathing hard. Her bright green eyes met mine, glittering in the dim light of the windowless van.
I reached to try the door, but the handles didn’t move. There was no way out. We were alone back here.
My own heart was pounding. It took everything I had to swallow the fear that tightened the base of my throat.
“Well, this is everything my mother ever warned me about,” I said glibly. “Don’t follow strange men with candy into a van. Definitely don’t let them take you to a second location.”
She stared back at me, her chest still rising and falling in quick breaths.
Then she said, “Where’s my goddamn candy?”
I grinned, no matter how bad the situation. Relief spiked through me at the sight of her relaxing a little, losing some of her fear when we joked.
All I wanted was to protect her. If I couldn’t do that, at least I could keep cracking jokes and help her stay calm.
Funny that it had the same effect on me.
“You got what you wanted,” I said.
“Yeah.” She looked around, dark eyebrows rising over those beautiful green eyes. “This is exactly what I imagined.”
“You’ve got me,” I reminded her. “And I’ve got you. We’ll be fine.”
She snorted.
The van lurched into motion, and her body swayed into mine. I caught her bicep to steady her. Her muscles were lean but hard, and I loved the feel of her body. She was made for this world, whether she knew it or not. She could hold her own.
“Tell me something,” she murmured. Her jade eyes seemed to glow in the darkness here, eerie and beautiful at once. “Distract me from thinking too much about this stupid thing we’re doing.”
A smile twisted across my lips. “Play two truths and a lie with me. Again.”
Her eyes crinkled at the corners, and I knew she was thinking of the same time that I was, while we were stripping floors at the academy as part of our punishment. She’d claimed that she 1) didn’t like Cade, 2) didn’t like the rules at the academy, and 3) thought Cade was a jerk. While facts number two and three were indisputable, I knew she had complicated feelings for Cade. I’d called her out on the lie, and we’d ended up kissing.
“Okay,” she said. “You first.”
“I named my first dog Dick, which—even though I was four—Cade will never let me live down,” I said. “I took ballet for a year when I was a kid. And I killed a vamp on my sixth birthday.”
There was a quick flicker of sympathy in her eyes that I hadn’t expected.
“Please tell me that you took ballet.”
“No,” I said. “That definitely didn’t happen.”
“This is such a twisted world,” she muttered.
Something about that sparked uncertainty. I didn’t want her to see our world as all darkness. I loved being a Hunter, and I wanted her by my side.
“I never minded growing up in it,” I said. “It sucks I lost my parents, but it was honestly just bad luck. My dad was killed trying to clear a vamp nest, but my mom—my mom left the life after that. Being a civilian is dangerous too.”
God, I’d meant to make her feel better, and here I was spilling my guts. This wasn’t a feel good story.
“What happened to her?”
“Drunk driver,” I said. “I feel about as warmly inclined toward drunk drivers as I do demons.”
Deidra didn’t say anything, but her hand brushed my fingers, then took my hand in hers.
“We were heading home from a haunting,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure why I was still talking. “It was late. Three in the morning, maybe. We’d taken two cars and Cade was driving, and I rode with him because she was worried he’d fall asleep at the wheel. Before we left, she told me to keep talking and he groaned and asked why she hated him.”
The memory made me smile. My mom had picked on both Cade and me, in a loving, teasing way. The three of us played practical jokes on each other too. Sometimes I felt like I hadn’t heard Cade really laugh since she died.
“Anyway, we were driving behind her. We all stopped at a red light, and when it turned green she pulled into the intersection, and a pick-up truck just drove through without stopping and hit her car doing seventy, eighty.”
Those things were facts. But for some reason I went on, telling Deidra something that I thought might just be imagination. “I swear I saw her face. The pickup truck spun her car around, but it hit her side, it crushed the car into her—she must have died near instantly. There was almost nothing left of her. So it’s probably just my imagination. But I could swear I saw her face one last time…”