by C. I. Black
More fire licked around Morgan’s eyes, and she blinked it back. She was tough enough to get the job done. That was all she needed.
A lack of movement by the front door drew her attention. The man she’d seen the last time she was here, handsome, wiry, and skinnier than Lachlin, sat in a front booth. The same hint of dark power radiated from him, the promise of mischievous danger. Gage had said he was a loki and unpredictable. Here was hoping he wouldn’t get involved this time, either.
“Who’s the guy in the front?” Kate asked.
“I don’t know.”
“He’s looking at you like he knows you.”
“Everyone here is. They don’t know me, but they know what I am.”
“But not because you have snake hair.”
“God, I hope not.”
They followed the ogre woman to the back of the pub. Rentz sat at the same booth as before, paperwork still spread across its surface, leaving space only for his glass of whiskey. His solid black eyes held her, sizing her up, weighing her value in blatant appraisal. “Ms. Jacobs.”
“That’s Deputy Marshal, Mr. Rentz.”
“So formal.” He leaned back, drawing Morgan’s attention to the thick-corded muscle around his neck and shoulders that, along with his eyes, were the only indication he was Kin.
“I’m here on business,” Morgan said.
“You were here on business last time, as well. When will you ever make it a personal call?” He flashed a smile with too many teeth. Were they pointed? “Or should I ask when Alexander will let you off your leash?”
“Do you see him?” Morgan asked. Where the hell was he?
Someone moved at the edge of Morgan’s vision, and Kate shifted. She’d noticed it, too.
“Just because your keeper isn’t here doesn’t mean he’s released his hold on you. I figured you’d be smart enough to realize that.” Rentz swirled the ice in his glass. “How disappointing.”
“And I never took you to have so little tact.” Of course she was aware she was on Gage’s leash. Everything he’d done had been to contain her. She’d moved in with him, studied from his books, and worked with him. Even contact with her friends had been restricted. Although that had been in part her doing because her powers still made her dangerous to be around.
Fire billowed across her cheeks, a reminder of that.
She blinked her powers back and focused her gaze to the back of the booth beside Rentz’s head. “I have no doubt we have lots of things to discuss.”
“We do.” Rentz chuckled. “Lots of things.”
“But right now, I need to ask you about Randal and Stroud Boyson.”
“Boyson.” Rentz rolled the name out as if testing a new word. “Doesn’t sound familiar.”
The bakenekos stopped pretending to play darts, and the boar ogre bartender straightened. Kate tensed, her hand easing to her hip, but she didn’t draw her sidearm. More fire licked at Morgan’s eyes.
“The Boysons are tall men, father and son.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Really?” Morgan tipped her sunglasses down and peered over them. The fire bled across her cheeks and along her jaw. “I thought you were more connected than that.”
Rentz leaned forward, his beady gaze meeting hers. “I’m as connected as I need to be. And I take it you haven’t gotten to dwarves yet in Alexander’s encyclopedia.”
Did everyone know about the encyclopedia set? She’d skimmed dwarves because they didn’t seem to be an immediate threat. Really, if she’d been reading like Gage thought she was, she wouldn’t have skimmed at all. But instead, she’d been poring over the case file and evidence in the cold case evidence box they’d taken from the police station, trying to figure out how it was connected to her mother.
“We’re already stone, snake charmer. Your gaze doesn’t intimidate me.”
“I’m not trying to intimidate.” She was going to have to read up on dwarves fast, power read the whole damned encyclopedia set, or better yet, get Rika to make a Kin app for her phone. “I’m being honest. Sunglasses get in the way of that.”
“If we’re being honest, then you should know you don’t get something for nothing.”
Right, yes. Everything was business with this man. He was a loan shark and ran backroom bets. He was also still holding information about her, waiting for the right buyer to come along. “You could consider sharing information with me as an act of goodwill.”
Rentz barked a deep laugh. “I don’t share, and I certainly don’t have goodwill. This is business. It’s always business.”
“So what is information worth?” Kate asked.
Rentz shifted his black gaze to her, and she shuddered. “Certain information can be quite valuable.”
“And this information? What’s the price for it?” Morgan asked.
Rentz sipped his whiskey. The ice clinked against the side of the glass. “It’s worth a future favor.”
“Of course it is.” The only way this could get more like making a deal with the devil was if Rentz was actually a devil. Morgan had read that story. She knew it never ended well. If the monsters of myth and fairy tale were real, maybe the stories were true, too. “Well, thank you, Mr. Rentz. If we require your information, we’ll be in touch.”
Rentz jerked forward, his shoulders and chest expanding, bulking out into massive, thick-corded muscle. “You’re supposed to negotiate.”
“Is that the rule?” Morgan forced herself to stand her ground.
“Yes,” Rentz said, his voice dark.
“I’ve never been good at following rules.”
“That will get you into trouble. You want to be making friends. The right friends.”
The bakenekos and boar ogres inched closer. Tension snapped through the room. Fire beat across Morgan’s face. Kate’s bullets might stop the bakenekos but wouldn’t affect the ogres. That left Morgan’s gaze. But she still didn’t have control of it. If she released her powers it was a death sentence, and not just for the assailants but for possible bystanders as well.
“Mr. Rentz, I’m pretty sure you don’t have friends. You have business associates. Just because I’m not prepared to do business right now doesn’t mean I won’t in the future.” She leaned close, pressing her palms to the papers on the table. Fire poured through her, scorching down her neck and filling her chest. “Forcing my hand will not make me amicable to future negotiations.”
Rentz met her stare. “So there will be future negotiations?”
“I’ve learned that anything is possible.”
Rentz’s lips curled back in a fiendish smile. His teeth were pointed. “Anything is possible, Marshal. Absolutely anything.”
Morgan straightened. One of the bakenekos flinched. The others sneered, but all held their ground. “Mr. Rentz.”
Rentz jerked his chin, and the ogres and bakenekos backed off. “Marshal.”
She and Kate strode back to the front door. The room was silent. All eyes had turned to drinks or windows or the floor, as if Morgan wouldn’t notice them if they didn’t make eye contact or any noise.
No, that wasn’t true. Not everyone trembled with fear. The man by the front window, the loki, grinned at her. He raised his glass in salute and winked.
Kate yanked open the wood and glass door, and they rushed out onto the street. Morgan had no idea how the hell she’d managed to get through that meeting unscathed.
Gage cleared his throat. He stood by his Mustang, his arms crossed and his expression hard. Now the catch was getting through the conversation with Gage unscathed.
CHAPTER 4
Gage parked his Mustang in his house’s multi-car garage and marched to the door leading inside. He’d been silent the entire ride to his mansion in Old Town, but dark power snapped and crackled around him.
Oh yeah, he was pissed off.
For a moment, Morgan contemplated going to her room by the back door and avoiding the impending argument, but Gage would likely find her, and they’d st
ill have the fight. Which only made her think of Gage and her and all that emotion trapped in her bedroom, leading invariably to how amazing hot angry sex with him would be.
And as soon as this manhunt was done, she was getting Kate to set her up on a date. At this rate, anyone would do, so long as it wasn’t Gage.
The house door opened as Gage reached for the knob. Lachlin stood in the doorway. His glamour was down, and his black waist-length hair hung loose, tucked behind pointed ears. His too-large eyes narrowed, and his gaze jumped to her still sitting in the car.
She probably shouldn’t date him, either.
“What’s got you so riled up?” he asked.
“Stop reading my emotions,” Gage growled.
“Stop radiating them, then.”
“You’re not supposed to be actively reading any emotions. It’s rude.” Gage shifted, indicating he wanted to pass and head into the house.
Lachlin didn’t move. “Trust me, if I could block your emotions right now, I would.”
“For the love of—” Gage shoved Lachlin.
Lachlin stumbled back, and Gage stormed into the house.
“Situation room. Now,” Gage barked.
Lachlin leaned back into the doorway, his glamour returning. His hair was now shoulder-length and his ears and eyes normal. “What the hell did you do?”
Morgan got out of the car. “What I’m trained to do.”
“That was not a ‘you’re trained to do that’ reaction.”
“Gage needs to expand his definitions.” She stepped through the doorway into the dimly lit, narrow hall. Lachlin hadn’t turned the light on, instead relying on the ambient light from the doorways of the rooms on either side.
“Is that what you really need?” Lachlin asked.
He was so close and so beautiful. The urge to touch him, wrap herself around him, beg for his affection slid through her. But that was just his charm, one of his Fae powers. It wasn’t real.
She didn’t have the patience for games at the moment. “Back off on the charm.”
A wicked smile pulled at his lips and lit his blue eyes with a sensual intensity. “I’m not using my charm.”
Attraction shivered through her.
“Oh, wow.” He drew closer. His lips brushed her cheek, and his breath caressed the sensitive skin by her ear and down her neck. The attraction turned hot and liquid in a heartbeat. “I make you feel that?”
Oh yeah, he—
“You can feel that?” The desire vanished, and hot embarrassment scalded her cheeks. God, had he known what she’d been feeling when she’d fought with his brother’s super-sexually charged charm last week?
“The other emotion was better. Let’s go back to that.” He slid a finger along her jaw.
“I’m not your plaything.”
He cocked an eyebrow. Now he looked every bit the sexy bad-boy. “But apparently you want to be.”
“It’s been a while. Looks like I’ve lowered my standards.” She pushed past him, but he grabbed her arm and yanked her off balance. With a twist, he pinned her against the wall.
His sleek muscled body pressed against her. Her skin seared at his touch even with clothes between them. Words, thoughts, everything vanished from her mind. Her heart pounded. So did his. His lips were so close, a mere breath from hers.
“Kitten, there’s nothing that’s ‘low standard’ about me.”
Her mind kicked in. This had to be his Fae charm. Or a residual effect of his brother’s. Or something. He wasn’t even her type.
Something flashed across his eyes: sadness, regret, pain? But that was ridiculous. He was playing a game.
She shoved him, and he stumbled back to the wall on the narrow hall’s other side. Whatever his emotion was, it deepened. The more she looked at it, the more it seemed like she’d hurt his feelings somehow.
He flashed his cocky smile, and whatever she’d seen disappeared. “We should go to the bedroom and get back to work.”
Bedroom…
Her mind stuttered and kicked back in again. No. He’d said situation room. Where they worked on cases. Where Gage was. “Work. Yes.” Jeez.
“After you.” He motioned down the hall.
Work. Focus. She’d beaten his brother’s charm, she could beat Lachlin’s… or whatever this was.
She strode to the situation room, trying to keep her outward appearance calm and normal, even if she still writhed inside. Not that it helped with Lachlin. He could sense what she felt!
God, it was so embarrassing. Thoughts she’d once believed private had been available for Lachlin’s entertainment, probably since the moment she’d moved in with him.
Gage stared at her as she entered, his expression hard, his arms crossed. He stood at the front, on the far side of the large table with the touch screen computer embedded in it. Behind him, the big screen monitor was dark, giving him an anti-halo, dark like the promise from the power curling around him. Beside him, Rika sat in her usual spot, her concentration focused on the table. Clayton sat opposite her, his attention also on the table.
This was not good.
“What part of ‘keep her out of trouble’ didn’t you understand?” Gage growled. His power snapped at her skin.
“Unless you officially take the manhunt from her, she’s going to follow whatever leads come up.” She matched his crossed arms.
“You should have redirected her.”
“She’d see right through that, and then we’d have more questions than answers. Kate is damned good at her job, and even if the glamour messes with her mind, she’ll stay on the hunt. The best I could do was stall her and hope you got to Rentz before we did.” It wasn’t as if she and Kate had wanted to storm headlong into the Whale and Ale, it was just that she couldn’t tell Gage that because then he’d know the glamour hadn’t made Kate forget about Kin.
“You should have stalled longer.”
“I tried, but Rentz invited us in.”
Rika twitched, but didn’t glance up. Clayton did look up and now sat with silence wrapped around him, watching them.
Lachlin snorted. Gage’s gaze jumped to him. He leaned against the doorframe, at ease, a hint of a smile pulled at his lips, as if he knew the punchline to a joke she couldn’t figure out. Perhaps he was amused by the mess of emotions racing through her. Probably. Now that she knew, other people’s discomfort seemed like something he’d enjoy.
“Fine.” Gage ran his hands through his short-cut hair and blew out a long breath. “Fine.”
“Rentz invited her inside. I’d hardly say that’s fine,” Lachlin said.
“I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.” She fought the urge to stand and pace. There wasn’t a comfortable place to go; either direction took her closer to Gage or Lachlin. “And can we not talk about me as if I’m not in the room?”
“You let Rentz invite you in. I’d say that means you can’t take care of yourself,” Lachlin said. “Please tell me you at least managed to avoid getting into a deal with him.”
A hint of fire licked at Morgan’s eyes, and the urge to move grew stronger. She forced it all back. “Information on Randal Boyson isn’t worth my soul. I’m not stupid. I have heard that story before.”
“Well, at least we have that,” Lachlin said, sarcasm dripping from his words.
The fire inched across her cheeks. She couldn’t believe how hateful Lachlin was being.
“All right, enough.” Gage’s power billowed, snapping across her skin. Lachlin winced. Guess it snapped across his, too. “Let’s focus on the job. Morgan, what did you learn?”
“Not much of anything. Randal’s mother says she hasn’t seen him and couldn’t name any friends he’s been in contact with since his incarceration.”
“Do you believe her?” Lachlin asked.
“She seems genuinely distressed at everything that’s happened. When Kate asked about Randal’s father, we were directed to the Whale and Ale, and I didn’t buy Rentz’s information.”
�
�Well, the boys talked with Stroud,” Rika said.
Gage gripped the back of the chair in front of him, but didn’t sit. “He says he hasn’t been in contact with Randal either.”
“And I don’t believe him.” Lachlin sank into the chair beside Morgan, his boneless sex-oozing grace returning.
“Do you think Stroud was involved in Randal’s escape?” Morgan asked, determined to ignore Lachlin. If there was indeed a full Kin connection to this, she needed to keep Kate as far away from it as possible. They just had to figure out a way to make it look like Kate was still doing her job, so she didn’t get into trouble with Ed—that and ignore the compulsion to actually do her job, which was easier said than done.
“The other issue is that Stroud is connected to the Devil Riders,” Rika said.
“Wonderful. Now we’ve got drug and gun running to deal with.” Morgan tapped her leg. Maybe that would ease the urge to pace.
“Not just drug and gun running. The Devil Riders are a Kin biker gang. They have ties to the House of Death,” Lachlin said.
“Suspected ties.” Gage jerked his chin at Rika, and she tapped on the table. Pictures and profiles of the Devil Riders filled the big screen. “We have no proof the House of Death is connected with the Devil Riders.”
“Save that the youngest son of the House of Death runs the gang,” Clayton said, breaking the stillness around him for a second. It settled back around him, gentle, unimposing, even given his massive build.
“The House of Death?” So far she hadn’t run across anything about Kin politics in the encyclopedias, just a who’s who of monsters. She knew Lachlin’s family ruled the House of Fairy, and it was one of the Thirteen Houses, but she wasn’t sure what it all really meant.
“Most Kin align themselves with one of the Thirteen Houses. Think of it like a political system. You find a house with values that match yours, and you align yourself to that,” Rika said.