Kiss at Your Own Risk

by Stephanie Rowe

  Trinity rolled her eyes. “Are you kidding? The last thing I need is a guy getting more defenseless around me.”

  Reina raised her brows. “What about you being handcuffed?”

  “Me?” Something pulsed deep in her belly at the thought of being restrained during sex. So she could enjoy herself and not worry at all that she could hurt the guy? She glanced at Blaine, and his eyes were nearly black, and his jeans were getting a little tight. “I never thought of being handcuffed,” she managed. “But I can see the benefits.” Amen to that, sistah!

  One of his eyebrows went up, and his eyes got even darker.

  “Hello?” Cherise waved her hand, and Trinity jerked her gaze off Blaine.

  Good heavens! What was her problem? “Sorry, Cherise.” She could still feel Blaine’s gaze on her, and she fought not to look at him. But her shirt was suddenly itchy, and her bra felt too tight over her breasts.

  “We’re talking about me right now, thank you very much.” Cherise glared at Reina. “I can’t believe you want me to chain Damian like he’s some husky.”

  “I don’t date werewolves, so I’ve never been in your situation,” Reina said. “But if I did, and he started playing the pooch card as an excuse, I’d throw it back in his face and treat him like the dog he wants to be.”

  “It’s a little late for that!” Cherise held up Mister Fancy. “I just got an offer to sell him for almost a million dollars. I was in the middle of negotiating it and then Damian ate him. Ate him!”

  “Cherise.” Trinity took her hand and squeezed gently. “You need to start really thinking about whether he’s right for you. I mean, eating your research isn’t a great thing to do, regardless of what form he was in when he did it.”

  Tears filled Cherise’s eyes. “I know, but he’s so cute when he gives me those puppy dog eyes and wags his really nice butt—”

  “Cherise.” Elise finally spoke up. As always, she was letting her minions handle their own clients, and Trinity appreciated that. “Dating the wrong man is just trouble. We can’t all be like Trinity and kill them off when they hurt us—”

  Trinity stiffened. “I didn’t mean to kill Barry—”

  Elise waved her off. “You’re a wonderful example of taking control. We all admire you.”

  Trinity’s gut tightened. Barry was as far from taking control as could be. He was the moment when she’d lost complete and total control.

  Elise turned to Cherise. “If Trinity can be strong enough to kill the man she loved, surely you can find the strength to take out the doggie door. Then at least he’ll have to shift back to human form to get inside.”

  Trinity shook her head. “I told you, I didn’t kill Barry on purpose—”

  Elise shot her a sharp glare. “Try and be helpful.”

  Trinity snapped her mouth shut. Yeah, Elise reminded her far too often that her greatest value at the Jamboree was to be that shining example of standing up for herself. Elise knew the truth about the curse, but she blew it off. She believed her job was to empower the women who came to them for help dealing with the vampires, werewolves, incubi, and other beastly men who were ruining their lives, and using Trinity as an example of getting out of a bad relationship was what she was going to do. If Trinity didn’t like it, she could get over her holier-than-thou attitude and get on board with being a liar for the greater good.

  For Trinity, the rush out of helping others was worth the guilt over lying about her past, and Elise knew that all too well.

  Cherise sighed. “But I love Damian—”

  “You’re a city girl who waxes her entire body except for her eyebrows because you don’t like hair. Not a fit for a man who sheds and has to go on twenty-mile hunts at night.” Trinity set her hand on Cherise’s arm. “Damian’s trying to be the man he knows you want him to be, but he can’t do it. He’s a werewolf, not a Lhasa Apso. He needs his freedom, and if you don’t let him go, he’s going to keep eating your furniture, and maybe you.”

  Cherise leaned forward, and her eyes sparkled. “But I like that part,” she whispered. “The fact that he might snap and bite me someday. I kinda like the danger.”

  “Well, that’s easy.” Reina said. “There’s a lot of men who are inches away from killing you, who would fit in with fine china and an indoor lifestyle. Men who don’t shed.”

  Cherise gave them a skeptical look. “Like who? A bad boy biker? That’s so cliché.”

  Trinity couldn’t help but slide another look toward Blaine. He was leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest, as he studied an angel tapestry. With his dark hair, his bulk, that motorcycle, and his fire thing… he was bad boy all the way.

  Yeah, she could see the appeal of guys who were a little bit dangerous…

  “How about demons?” Reina suggested. “They aren’t hairy.”

  Cherise rolled her eyes. “They smell like sulfur when they get turned on. Gross.”

  “Black witches?”

  Blaine shifted so suddenly in the doorway that all three women turned and looked at him. He scowled. “Black witches leave something to be desired,” he muttered.

  “I agree.” Cherise shook her head. “There’s just something effeminate about a male witch. I need a man.”

  “How about a dead guy?” Elise suggested.

  Cherise wrinkled her nose. “I get that a dead man can’t cause trouble, but necrophilia isn’t my thing.”

  “I meant vampires,” Elise said. “I was at a black tie fundraiser the other day for saving the Woldsmith Cemetery, and I met at least seven vampires. All of them were completely hairless and wearing designer suits. No tails, and they were wearing only silk. No wool at all.”

  Cherise frowned. “I’m kind of blood-averse.”

  “Maybe you just haven’t encountered blood in the right situation,” Elise said. “There’s something pretty sexy about a couple of puncture wounds on your inner thigh. You know, how he’s got to lick them to seal the wound and all… and then his tongue starts to wander…”

  Cherise’s eyes widened. “Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”

  Trinity thought of being on the bike with Blaine. Of the way her thighs had wrapped around his hips… the feel of his body between her legs… the deep vibration of the engine… the way his hand clamped down on her thigh, anchoring her around him. She glanced over at him and saw he was studying her. His eyes were dark, his expression hooded. But a slow spiral of smoke was rising from his chest. Oh, wow.

  “Maybe it’s time to branch out,” Reina said. “Vampires might rip your throat out, but they’re way too classy to eat your fish or tear up your pillows.”

  “That does sound good.” Cherise nodded and sat up. “Okay, I think it might be worth a try.” She took a deep breath and gave them a trembly smile. “I can do this, right? Walk away from the werewolves?”

  “I know you can.” Trinity smiled, trying not to look toward Blaine, but she could feel his stare boring down at her. “You’ll find the right guy. Just be patient.”

  “And hide the fish,” Reina added.

  “I will.” Cherise held up her arms and hugged Trinity. “Thank you so much for coming,” she whispered. “I didn’t know what to do.”

  Trinity smiled. This was why she worked here. Because there was no feeling as good as helping women find their way to true love. She could live vicariously through them, and it felt good to help others. Yes, it made her uncomfortable to be lauded for her past, but at the same time, if it could help one woman, then that was one moment in which she could stop hating what she was and what she’d done. “Of course I’ll always come. You know I will.”

  Cherise set her handbag in Trinity’s lap. “You keep this. I was going to do what you did, but now I think I can manage without it.”

  Trinity took the bag and peeked inside. A gun was in there. She went cold. “Cherise—”

  “I knew you would understand,” Cherise said. “No one else here knows what it’s like to want to kill the man you love, but I knew you�
�d get it.” She hugged her. “Thank you for everything.” She smiled. “I know I can—” She froze suddenly, looking past Trinity’s shoulder. “By all that’s hairy and fanged, who is that?”

  “The fire guy?” Trinity stiffened, not liking the way Cherise was looking in Blaine’s direction, as if she wanted to start dancing naked with him. “He’s with me,” she blurted out, then winced when she saw Reina raise her brows. Oops. That had sounded a wee bit possessive, hadn’t it? “I mean—”

  “No, not him.” Cherise pointed. “Him.”

  Reina looked past Trinity, and her eyes widened. “Oh, cactus balls. He’s back.”

  “He, who?” Trinity caught the sudden scent of rotten bananas, and she whirled around in time to see Augustus charge through the doorway. Something pink flashed in his hand, and then a six-pointed star was hurtling right at her face.

  She had no time to duck.

  He was going to dust her.

  Chapter 11

  Blaine had no idea who the stinky rot was who’d just busted through the front door of the chick palace, and he’d never seen a flying girlie star, but it took him less than a split second to figure out that his ticket to Christian’s freedom was about to get some serious harming done to her. “Down now!”

  He threw an orange fireball at the star, and it ignited the thing, and then it kept on trucking, right for Trinity. No time to try another color. He launched himself through the air, and he landed between the torpedo and Trinity just in time for the cotton candy wannabe to plow right into his chest.

  The pain was instant and blinding, and it dropped him to his knees before he had a chance to recover.

  “Blaine!” Trinity scrambled to her feet and raced toward him.

  “Don’t touch him!” Reina intercepted Trinity as she lunged for him. “That stuff might be contagious, and you can’t do any good if you get dusted.”

  Blaine looked down and saw that his chest had turned pink. He’d never thought of pink as an instrument of pain. The witch would love this trick—

  Agony ripped through his gut, and he hunched over. Screw that. He wasn’t being taken down by some chick-colored weapon. Even the witch had the respect to use manly colored weapons.

  “Let me go!” Trinity was screaming now, fighting to get to him, and didn’t that just make him go all soft and woolly inside.

  Then he saw the slump-backed assailant reach into his pocket, and a flash of pink peeked out of the edge. He was going for take two? No chance, fruity boy.

  “Get behind me,” he ordered.

  Trinity turned to see what he was looking at, yelped when she saw the second star, then ducked behind Blaine. Again with the trusting him to take care of her problems. He could so get into that.

  Blaine immediately set himself on fire and sent the flames sweeping through his body, exactly as he’d done to cleanse the schnoodemgon poison gas. He gritted his teeth against the pain, and felt his body continuing to weaken. Apparently, the cleansing fire wasn’t going to be quite as successful in this situation. Note to self: pink = bad news for men.

  He fought harder, drilled heat into the flames until they were white-hot, and finally the pain in his chest switched from icy cold numbness to the searing burn that indicated all his internal organs had caught fire. He felt his muscles return to life. Back in business, baby!

  The invader whipped out the star, and Blaine leapt to his feet. He shot a white fireball, and then a green one, but nothing worked as he charged across the room. The bastard was still on his feet when Blaine tackled him into the wall. The plaster crumbled around them as Blaine fought the wiry scrap for control of his little pointed weapon.

  Took longer than he liked, and his wrist got nicked, but he finally had the guy face down on the floor in a headlock. He sat on the dude and pinned his wrists under Blaine’s knees, the star sitting harmlessly on the floor next to the guy’s face. “Say uncle.”

  Trinity peeked out from behind the table. “You got him?”

  “Sure did.” Blaine felt pressure building under him, and realized the guy was amassing energy of some sort. He had no clue what was going to happen when the guy erupted, and he wasn’t about to risk Trinity, and it wasn’t like he had time to figure out what color fire would work on him, if any. “Go get on my bike,” he ordered. “We’re leaving.”

  “No. Not yet!” Trinity ran over and knelt beside Blaine’s captive.

  Did the woman have no sense? Yeah, he had the guy secured right now, but something was brewing and it wasn’t going to be primroses and pansies. Granted, he was so getting off on her complete faith in his ability to manage the bad guy, but he wasn’t sure exactly what he was dealing with yet. “Get back.”

  Trinity ignored Blaine and looked right at his captive. “Why did you come after me, Augustus?”

  The dude twisted his lumpy head. “I have yet to determine how you succeeded in convincing the Triumvirate to divest me of your father in return for that monster’s heart—”

  Trinity shook her head. “No, no. I didn’t talk them into anything. They brought it up to me!”

  “But,” Augustus continued, “I have never given up my prey and I’m not going to start. The only way to break the contract is for you to die, so that’s got to happen.”

  Trinity paled. “Oh, wow, that’s really not what I was hoping to hear.”

  Blaine ground his knee into the man’s kidney, but the assassin just smiled, a thin, creepy grin. “You won’t make it to Sunday, Trinity Harpswell. I never lose.”

  “Well, if that’s not just melodrama—” Blaine felt his body begin to tingle where it was pressed against his captive’s. Fantastic. Black magic. Building fast. What the hell was this guy? “All right, buddy. Time to cap your ass—”

  “No!” Trinity grabbed Blaine’s arm as he was about to fire up some sparks. “Don’t kill him.”

  Blaine stared at her. “Are you kidding? He’s angling to kill you, and he’s got some sort of powerful shit going on. I don’t want to wait around for a tea party when he finishes whatever game he’s preparing right now.”

  “No! I can’t just kill people.” She jumped to her feet. “We’ll take care of the monster before Augustus finds me. Then it’s over.”

  Blaine’s palms began to throb where he was pinning the bastard down, and he knew without looking that thousands of microscopic pinholes were bleeding out his palms. That’s how his reaction to black magic always started. “We don’t want to mess with him—”

  “Then let’s go!” Trinity started backing toward the door. “Come on, Blaine. We don’t have much time.”

  As if there was any chance he was leaving this guy alive. Blaine ignored her and sent a testing spark into his captive’s body. The dude shuddered, and then the magic intensified. Son of a bitch. The scumbag had just tapped into the black magic roots of Blaine’s fire and fed on it.

  That was bad news. Even Angelica hadn’t been able to feed on it. What was this dude? He didn’t know, but he knew one thing: Any attempt to use fire on him would only make him stronger. Which meant that he wasn’t going to be toasting this guy into oblivion anytime soon without doing some serious research on how to deal with him.

  He needed to regroup with his team to find out what they were fighting here, and he needed to do it fast.

  He looked at Trinity, who had paused on the threshold. “Go get on my bike. Now.”

  “But what about Augustus? He’s going to come after us. Can you tie him up or something?”

  “Tie him up?” Blaine echoed. “That’s not going to hold him…” Or… maybe he could do something just as good though. If Augustus could feed off Blaine’s black magic, maybe Blaine could return the favor. Deprive Augustus of his black magic by sucking it into his own body, the way he’d absorbed the fire when Trinity had gone sparkly. No guarantees that it would make Blaine stronger, like it had with Augustus, but it wasn’t like he wanted to dine on the guy. He just wanted to weaken him long enough for them to take off.

  Y
eah, he was liking that. Absorbing some black magic into his body couldn’t be worse than some of the fun he’d had with Angelica, right? “Bottoms up,” he muttered, and then he placed his hands on the sumbitch’s head and opened himself up to the poison he’d been fighting his whole life.

  ***

  Trinity gasped as Blaine’s skin turned ashen, and then his eyes rolled back in his head. He was gripping Augustus’s head, and the air around them filled with a murky, green smoke. Augustus was struggling beneath him, but Blaine was holding him still with brute strength. “Blaine?”

  He shook his head once, and the muscles in his arms flexed. Augustus’s body convulsed, and then he let out a loud moan, and then went limp.

  Blaine released Augustus’ head with a grunt, and then fell forward on his hands. His skin was gray, and his hair was smoking. “Blaine?”

  “I’m good.” He lurched to his feet. “Let’s go.”

  “Augustus isn’t dead. He’ll be up again soon.” Reina ran up. “That’s such bad news if he’s after you for his own personal vendetta.”

  “I know.” Trinity caught Blaine’s arm as he stumbled. “Help me get Blaine outside.”

  Reina grabbed the warrior’s other arm and they began to help him toward the front door. He tripped again, and they had to fight to keep him on his feet. “Damn, girl, he’s heavier than your dad. What’s up with you picking up some well-muscled warrior as an appendage?”

  “I’m fine,” Blaine muttered. But his eyes were closed and his muscles were trembling.

  “I’ll help.” Elise ran over and slung Blain’s arm over her shoulder. She was so tall that she was able to support him. “What’s going on, Trinity? What can I do for you?”

  “Nothing. I just need to—”

  “Hello?” Cherise’s cheerful voice filled the room.

  Trinity looked over her shoulder as Cherise sat down beside Augustus and tapped his shoulder. “Excuse me, sir. Are you okay?”

  “For heaven’s sake, Cherise,” Trinity said. “Even a werewolf is better than Augustus.”

  “Did you see what he did to your guy? Very impressive.” Cherise patted his cheek. “I’m just going to make sure he wakes up okay.”