Mystic Realms: A Limited Edition Collection
Page 154
Shit. He possessed self-regeneration, a rare ability among fae, and she’d never heard of it coming with a light show.
But that only meant she’d have to work a little harder to hurt him and get the thief.
His lips curled back, revealing a hint of his elongated canines in a dangerously sexy smile and more electricity snapped through her. From the heated look in his eyes, he knew exactly how he made her feel, and that only made her want to work even harder at hurting him.
No way in hell was she going to end up a fae’s plaything. Not now. Not ever. No matter how hot and bothered he made her.
She took an involuntary sniff anyway, unable to stop herself, craving the seductive scent of his pheromones, yearning to have them wrap around her and caress her senses. Except she already knew he was suppressing them since she hadn’t noticed him hiding in the closet. Either that or the stench in the room was worse than she’d first imagined.
His wicked smile deepened, confirming that this was a game for him, and he grabbed for her arm.
She side-stepped out of reach into the empty bedroom and shifted her grip on her dagger. It might be a game to him, but it was her life. He couldn’t play with her — as much as a part of her really wanted him to — she wasn’t a toy, and she certainly wasn’t so weak as to give in to her desires.
She peeled the prepared relocation sticker off her collar, no longer caring if he showed up in the Warlord’s dungeon. Better to come up with an explanation as to why a member of the Shadow Court had been illegally relocated there than to have him constantly getting in her way.
He quirked an eyebrow, pulling her gaze to his dark eyes and their smoldering intensity. “You don’t think that trick will actually work on me, do you?”
Oh, hell yes. She just needed to get within reach long enough to place the sticker and say the words. Of course, there were other things she could do once he was in reach, but none of them were appropriate for the situation: like ripping his clothes off and seeing if he looked just as sexy as he smelled.
No. Damn it. Come on. She wasn’t supposed to be thinking that. He must have let some of his pheromones loose, and they were messing with her head because she couldn’t possibly be attracted to him. He saw her as a plaything. Focus on that. Desiring him, a member of the Shadow Court, created a situation that only made everything worse. It was his pheromones. Nothing more.
“I have a warrant from the King of the Golden Court,” she forced out, the only thing she could think of saying that wasn’t a sexual invitation.
“I’m sure you do.” His tone was sensual as if she’d proposition him instead. Heat filled his eyes, and he slid his gaze down her body, drawing a shuddered that she couldn’t have hidden if she wanted to.
She clenched her jaw tighter. “Where’s the thief?” Finish the job. Win her freedom. Don’t become a victim to fae charm.
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I thought you were him.”
Ouch. That stung. He couldn’t have possibly thought she looked anything like that scraggly fae or smelled so bad. Of course, he couldn’t smell her or the thief, because he wasn’t human. But still, she looked nothing like the thief.
“Why don’t you do us both a favor and go back under whatever rock you crawled out from.” There, now she sounded more like the bad-ass bounty hunter that she was.
He rolled his eyes at her. “You rehearsed that, didn’t you?”
Maybe. But she wasn’t going to admit it. She lunged at him.
He jerked away, but she managed to get a fistful of his shirt and yank him toward her. He stumbled and collided with her, his hands on her shoulders, forcing her back and pinning her to the bedroom wall.
Just where she wanted him.
On top of her.
No! Jeez.
She slapped the sticker on his cheek, but he captured her hand with his, keeping it there pressed against his flesh. His gaze locked onto hers and something jolted between them. It stole all breath and thought like before, but was stronger, more ferocious, setting every nerve on fire. This wasn’t just her savoring the heat of his body pressed against her. It was him as well. A full fae of a High Court looking at her with smoldering desire that went beyond the game. She couldn’t explain it. This was deeper than some fae compulsion. It was inexplicable, confusing, and… there. Without a doubt, it lay solid and sure between them.
She shivered at the thought. She had to be mistaken. Somehow, her desire was making her see things that weren’t real. For him, it had to be the game, to see if he could capture the heart of the half-human and make her want him.
There wasn’t any other possible explanation, no matter how much her instincts screamed this wasn’t the game. She couldn’t afford to give in. Instinct wasn’t always right, and if she was wrong, if this was that horrible fae-human game, she couldn’t afford to play. She’d lose everything. She’d seen the outcome before and swore she’d never get caught in it.
But she couldn’t sense any misdirection in his desire. It burned through her, searing every cell within her until she thought she’d go up in flames.
He had to be a good actor. That was all.
She inhaled to say the words of power to send him to the Warlord’s dungeon, but he smashed his lips against hers in a hungry kiss, and all words escaped her.
His scent, sudden and powerful, engulfed her until she couldn’t smell anything else but him. It poured into her nose and filled her essence with his glorious, musky spice.
She grabbed the front of his shirt to keep standing and moaned. His tongue slid into her mouth, fueling an inferno that raced down her chest to her womb. She was on fire. All of her. Where he touched her. Where his body pressed against her. She couldn’t catch her breath and didn’t want to. He was hungry, and it was all for her. There was no doubt about that.
His hands tangled in her curls, not giving her the chance to escape — not that she wanted to — and he tilted her head back, fully in control, and deepened the kiss. Her pulse pounded with an overload of sensation, the feel of him, the electric connection between them, and his glorious scent.
He groaned and shifted, the hard swell of his erection inside his jeans brushing her abdomen. Fabric against fabric and yet still sending a shock of sensation racing through her. She hooked a leg around his hip and arched into him. He ground against her and slid one hand from her hair and inside her duster. It skimmed over her T-shirt along the top of her breast and then torturously down her side.
She nipped his bottom lip and tightened her hold around his hip. He jerked his head back, and his pupils dilated with desire and hunger. His breath was fast, like hers, and his gaze filled with a wild intensity that made her shudder, the involuntary movement rubbing her against him and drawing a gasp.
“This—” he growled, his expression tightening as if he was trying to concentrate. “This isn’t—”
Something in his eyes made her pulse stutter, and icy fear swept into her gut. He was going to reject her—
No, he was going to reject the fae compulsion that was making him seduce her. Which was confusing as hell. She was half human, an abomination, not worthy of any kind of respect, and yet he was trying to stop.
But God! Right in this moment she didn’t care if she was under some influence or not, she didn’t want him to stop—
Which wasn’t like her at all. Except neither was being influenced by a fae’s pheromones, either. She might have been turned on in the past, but never beyond the point of remaining in control. There was just something about him, something that called to her that she couldn’t explain.
“I can’t do this,” he said, but his hand inside her coat gripped her hip, his other hand didn’t leave her hair, and he didn’t try to step back.
“Wow, a shadow fae actually trying not to charm the human.” Her grip on his shirt tightened, and she fought the urge to grind against him.
“I’m not trying to charm you.” His gaze dropped to her lips, and the hunger in his eyes returned.
Except he was right. Fighting whatever lay between them was the only smart move. They belonged to different courts, and she belonged to the King of the Golden Court. Until she won her freedom, her life wasn’t hers to share.
“I—” His attention jumped to her lips again and for a second she thought he’d kiss her, then he wrenched away and stormed to the far side of the bedroom. “You’re in my way,” he said, his back to her.
“You’re in mine.”
Something squeaked, and Riley’s mind stuttered. She knew what that sound meant… she’d heard it recently… the door. That was the sound of the apartment door opening.
Chapter Seven
Both Riley and Mr. Sexy froze, and his gaze jumped to hers. Desire burned in his eyes, and she wanted to forget he’d had enough self-control to step away from her, wanted him pressing her against the wall, his hands and lips on her again. But now there was also something veiled and cold in his expression, reminding her that he was still a bounty hunter for the Shadow Court and a high fae at that. Pretending he didn’t want to charm her could all be part of that game. Not to mention they were still at odds with each other. They both needed to apprehend the thief and retrieve the Seal for their king.
Shuffling footsteps sounded in the hall, heading toward them.
She had to move. Now. But she couldn’t wrench her attention away from him, and his gaze held steady on hers.
The footsteps drew closer. Whoever had arrived was coming closer.
Come on. Look away. Do something. Anything.
But her pulse pounded faster, and the blaze in his eyes burned hotter. There was only him and his promised inferno. There was—
Someone yelped.
Riley heaved her attention from Mr. Sexy to the door. The thief scrambled back, his eyes wide, his sour pheromones cutting through the haze in her head.
She lunged at him, but he darted out of reach and ran back out of the bedroom’s doorway.
Shit. She bolted after him with Mr. Sexy close behind her. Except once they got out of the apartment’s narrow hall and there was room to pass her, Mr. Sexy’s longer legs were going to get him to the thief first, and then she’d lose her chance at freedom. A part of her didn’t want to send him to the Warlord’s dungeon, without a doubt the heat in his gaze would be gone the next time he looked at her, but her freedom was more important. It had to be. Certainly more important than protecting the feelings of a fae who most likely was trying to charm her.
She hissed the words of power to activate the spell on the sticker stuck to his cheek but didn’t feel the tingle in the empty part of her soul signifying she’d successfully cast the spell. He must have wiped off enough of her blood so the spell no longer had power.
Double shit.
They reached the empty living room. Mr. Sexy clamped a hand over her arm, jerked her aside, and rushed past her out the door. She ran after him, but he was already approaching the stairs at the end of the hall. Boy, he could move fast, and the thief could move faster and was slipping out of sight into the stairwell.
She put on a burst of speed, trying to catch up as Mr. Sexy bolted down the stairs. At the bottom, Mr. Sexy threw open the side door and ran through into a bright pool of light. She followed and smashed into his back. The idiot had stopped running. The thief was getting away. Of course, maybe that was his plan all along.
She kicked at his knee, intending to knock him over, but he sidestepped her attack and grabbed her wrist, yanking her off balance. She wrenched around and cracked him hard across the face.
He staggered back. Blood trickled from his nose and over his upper lip.
“Bitch,” he said, but his eyes said ‘do it again.’
She shivered with anticipation. “Bastard.”
“Is that the best you can come up with?” A smile pulled at his lips as he wiped the blood away with the back of his hand.
God, he was enjoying this.
And so was she. “Trust me. I’m just getting started.”
He glanced over her shoulder. Did he think she was going to fall for that trick? Of course, the question really was: where was the thief? Behind Mr. Sexy, mostly in shadow with a single splash of illumination from the light over the side door they’d just exited, sat a solid, three-story brick wall with no windows, doors, or even a fire escape. And certainly no thief. But if the thief was behind her, then why wasn’t Mr. Sexy chasing after him?
She risked a glance over her shoulder. Two dumpsters, lidded and locked, butted against the legs of a billboard and blocked the way. No place for the thief to go and no place for the thief to hide.
What the hell happened to him? And she wasn’t going to ask Mr. Sexy. Most fae couldn’t cast a relocation spell, and most couldn’t cast it spontaneously the way Mr. Sexy could. Besides, if the thief could cast the spell, why hadn’t he used it to escape the courtyard only a few hours earlier instead of running to the subway?
“Thanks again for getting in my way.” It was as biting a comment as she could muster, but she had to admit, she was at a loss for words. Particularly with that luscious smell emanating from him and the memory of his lips and hands making her body hot.
“Your way? You got in my way.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re childish enough to argue the matter.”
His eyes hardened, and she could tell he wanted to accuse her of starting it — which she had. But she’d also finished it. Anything he said now would look infinitely more childish than what she’d said.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” She shoved past him, but he grabbed her arm and spun her to face him.
“I have work to do, too, little girl.” His voice was dark, threatening, exciting. It sent chills racing over her with an anticipation she prayed didn’t show on her face.
She craved more of what they’d had in the thief’s apartment, and a part of her didn’t care if it was his fae charm or not.
“It would seem we have a mutual goal,” he said. But he didn’t turn away or change the intensity of his glare.
“So it would seem.” Her pulse roared. She didn’t know if she wanted him to give in and finish his seduction or not.
Of course she did—
No. She didn’t. Dangerous, remember?
But her insides squirmed. The idea of them having a mutual goal and the possibility of a truce and working closely with him made her burn with a need that terrified her.
“The Seal belongs in the Golden Court until the Transition and Binding Ceremony.” She didn’t know why she said it, perhaps hoping he’d agree. She couldn’t very well tell him the success of this assignment meant her freedom from the Golden King’s service. “I can let you have the thief once he reveals the location of the Seal.”
“The Shadow King wants the Seal.”
“And he’ll have it in just under twelve hours.”
“If you can catch the thief.” A hint of a wicked grin darkened his gaze.
“I can catch him.”
“He’s gotten away twice now.” His grip on her wrist tightened, and the heat of his body sent sparks of attraction snapping up her arm and across her chest.
“Because you’ve gotten in my way,” she said, praying her voice didn’t sound as breathy as she felt.
“Maybe.” The grin vanished, his expression darkened, and his gaze slid over the alley. “But there aren’t a lot of fae who can outrun me or disappear like he did.”
“Just because you can’t catch him, doesn’t mean I can’t.” Except she knew that wasn’t the point he was trying to make.
“I’m saying there might be more to this thief than
we know.”
And that’s what she was worried about as well. The thief also knew to mask his pheromones, which meant he was more knowledgeable than most fae.
“I’m not sure if it’s the thief or the thief’s employer we should be worried about,” she said, using we like he had, a part of her savoring the sound of that.
Shit. Savoring anything was a bad idea. Why the hell was she thinking like this? It wasn’t like her at all.
She wrenched her wrist free from his grasp and stepped back determined to put some space between them. Maybe that would help her think straight.
Mr. Sexy frowned but didn’t draw closer. “I agree the thief isn’t working on his own. Also, given how the thief managed to get into the Golden King’s vault, I’m not willing to assume the thief’s employer is Shadow Court.”
“Neither am I.”
His eyes widened for a second then narrowed. “You don’t automatically suspect someone from the Shadow Court?”
“Shadow Court fae, Golden Court fae, the only differences I can see between the two are elongated canines and darker auras.”
“I wouldn’t let the King of the Golden Court know how you feel.”
“He doesn’t care how I feel.” The only fae who did was the queen, and Riley really had no idea why. “He only cares that I can get the job done, and I can’t keep wasting my time fighting with you.” Although, Lord and Lady, she’d love to do more wrestling.
A hint of wicked seduction flashed across his expression and a whiff of pheromones slid over her senses.
God, yes, more fighting with him.
No. Focus. “There’s more to this thief than meets the eye. We agree he most likely isn’t working alone.” And she couldn’t afford to be fighting the thief and Mr. Sexy at the same time.
The heat in his gaze vanished and so did his scent. “You’re right.”
“If we work together, we might be able to get the Seal and apprehend both the thief and his employer.” She couldn’t believe she was suggesting a truce — and without a doubt, Mr. Sexy would double-cross her — but she was running out of time and couldn’t afford to keep losing the thief.