The Barrier Between (Collector Series # 2)

by Stacey Marie Brown

  I smiled and plopped on the barstool. “No. Not really.”

  “What I thought.” His eyes grazed over me again. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  He motioned to the bartender. I recognized him as the man who ran out of the bar the day we arrived, the owner, Tulio. He reacted instantly to Ryker’s summons.

  “Beer?” Ryker asked.

  I nodded.

  Ryker held up two fingers and motioned to his bottle.

  I looked forward, not wanting to face him. “I’m a liability. They hear the rumors, but until they see me they probably doubt the truth of them.” I picked at a napkin on the bar. “If more people learn you don’t have your powers, they will come for the stone. In droves. If for one moment they see me and think I’m Amara and hesitate, it’s worth it.”

  Ryker grabbed my arm, turning my chair to him. He reached out, twirling my hair between his fingers. “You did this to protect me?”

  “Yeah.”

  Ryker’s mouth opened and closed, his fingers trailed through my hair, his gaze growing so intense I stopped breathing.

  Tulio set the beers down, the glass bottles clanking. Ryker and I jerked back, turning our attention to the objects in front of us. He reached for his beer and I did the same.

  “Salud.” Ryker tipped his beer bottle to me.

  I lifted my beer. “Salud.”

  The clink of our bottles was sharp, echoing, but the noise of the bar kept it contained to our little bubble. We watched each other as we each took a swig. My eyes darted away from his gaze as I placed the bottle back on the napkin. My hands shook as my fingers played with the edge of the white paper. Relax, Zoey. We are only having a drink.

  Pushing back my shoulders, I sat straighter in my seat, holding up my beer. “Here’s to us making it through... again.” I shook my head, remembering all the crap we’d survived and escaped the past month. “And to us finding someone to help transfer your powers back.” I felt no need to keep my voice down. The noise level of the bar was so high I practically had to yell, the celebration energy tingling at my skin.

  Ryker tapped the neck of his bottle onto mine. I downed the rest of my beer. One of his eyebrows hitched up.

  “Come on, Wanderer. Keep up.” I motioned to the bartender. “I see. Look like a Viking but drink like a pussy.”

  He snorted and downed the rest of his beer.

  The dark-haired, older bartender made his way back to us. There were at least a hundred people in the small bar, but he came the moment I signaled.

  “Are you glamouring him?” I asked Ryker. He only smiled in return.

  “Dos cervezas más.” I held up two fingers to Tulio.

  “Y dos tiros de whisky,” Ryker told the barkeep and turned back to face me, a slight smirk on his face. “Don’t challenge me, human.”

  “Can you really even call me human anymore?”

  “You’re still human. You’re not one of us yet.”

  “Thank God.”

  His foot hooked the rung at the bottom of my barstool and tugged at it. My arms went flying when I felt my chair go backward. The instant of fear sent adrenaline into my veins. A gush of wind slammed into me. I blinked... and I was standing at the opening of the restroom.

  Oh hell.

  The place was so crowded no one observed my sudden appearance near the bathrooms—this time. I was going to need to get more of a handle on my emotions. The jumping was starting to happen a little too often. Soon someone would notice.

  I pushed through the crowd and made my way back to Ryker. He sat there sipping his whiskey, looking impervious. My eyes went to his shoulders, searching for the hidden fury, but he was relaxed.

  “Now look who’s behind.” He tipped the rest of the brown liquid down his throat. I slipped back onto my stool. “You obviously didn’t go far.”

  “The bathroom.”

  He chuckled. “Takes you where you need to go.”

  “You are being awfully calm about this.” I took a sip of my drink. The smoky aroma reminding me of the night we spent in the house together in northern Seattle. The night I sewed him up, and we slept in the same bed. My shift from hate to tolerance had been slow, but from tolerant to... whatever I was feeling now, was fast.

  “I’m not.” His white eyes turned to mine; the cold seriousness ran deep in his black pupils. “And we still haven’t talked about what you did in front of Arlo. But tonight I don’t want to discuss any of it. Right now we relax and have fun.” He raised his hand to Tulio, nodding toward our drinks. Tulio automatically reached for the bourbon bottle.

  The burden slipped off my shoulders as I tipped my head back and finished the liquor. He was right. We needed one night. One night not worrying about anything—to be free and act like we were any other couple on vacation.

  Couple? I didn’t mean couple as in together, I meant couple as in two people being in the same place... Oh, shut up, Zoey.

  I swallowed the last of my beer, almost choking on it. Ryker’s eyebrow was up again. “Whoooo.” I patted my chest, chuckling nervously. Dammit! I giggled again.

  Ryker grabbed my chair and turned me to him. “Relax, Zoey.” His gaze caught mine, holding it. The alcohol running through my system took the edge off my tension. I nodded, brushing my purple hair over my shoulder.

  Ryker pushed the freshly poured drink to me. My fingers wrapped around the glass. The heat of the day had not waned, and the mass of people packed in the bar intensified the humidity in the small space. Sweat trickled down my spine, soaking into my tank. I shoved my hands down, pushing my short cotton pleated skirt between my legs. I felt sticky everywhere. And a lot of it had nothing to do with the temperature in the packed bar.

  “How’d you leave without Sprig?” Ryker set his feet on my chair’s foot rung and leaned one elbow on the bar.

  I brought the cup to my lips. “I left him with a baby bottle full of honey, mango chips, his stuffed animal, and South America’s version of reality TV, which is like porn to him. He’ll be fine.”

  “More than fine. He’ll want us to leave more often.”

  I laughed. “You’re right. But he better not be doing anything with Pam on the bed we haven’t yet.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

  Oh. My. God.

  “I don’t mean together... I meant separate. Not that we could really do anything more than share a bed.” My face burned with embarrassment. Laughing, I swiveled my chair to face the bar, and I propped my elbows on it. “That would be awkward.”

  Ryker’s mouth twitched with humor. His gaze stayed on me, watching me flounder. I slammed down the harsh liquor, my throat and chest burned in protest. “When was the last time you had sex?” Ryker leaned back in his chair.

  I choked, coughing into my hand. “Excuse me?”

  “You brought it up.”

  “I’m not telling you.” My head was getting fuzzy, along with my inhibitions. His eyes stayed on me, causing a smile to curl my lips. “Fine. It’s been a while,” I acknowledged. “But not really my fault. Been kind of busy running from people trying to kill me. Plus, I’ve been stuck with you.” I grinned and took another drink.

  “You could have taken the boy we met in the garage who was making eyes at you into a back seat of a Prius. I wasn’t stopping you.”

  “Who?”

  Ryker smirked, turning more toward me. “You know who I am talking about. In the garage. The human kid who was totally into you.”

  “You mean Mr. Kettenburg’s son? Andrew?” My nose scrunched up. “Are you serious?”

  It was still strange to think of my old teacher and know he had been a plant by DMG the whole time I had been his student—a spy, recruiting me to be their seer soldier.

  Ryker shrugged. “He got a stiffy the moment he saw you. You could have been Junior’s first.”

  “Ugh, he was seventeen. I prefer my men a lot older.” A blush came over my face. Ryker never revealed his actual age, but I knew he was at least a couple centurie
s old, if not more. “Andrew was not my type at all, but thank you for lowering my standards for me.”

  “It’s the end of the world, and you decide to be picky?”

  “Oh, shut up.” I smacked at his chest. My arm bounded back like it had hit cement. “Ow.” I shook out my hand. “Seriously, you need to put a warning label on that thing.”

  “I need to put one on you.”

  “Why? Because you think I’m having sex with a seventeen-year-old in the back of a Prius?”

  “A missed opportunity.”

  “Somehow I will go on.” My chair rotated to face him, and I placed my feet between his legs on his foot rung. His heels were hooked on the bar on either side of mine. “What about you?”

  The side of his mouth curved up. He emptied his drink and tapped the counter with the glass. From across the bar, ignoring all the hands waving to get his attention, Tulio moved to us.

  “Stop doing that.”

  “I’m not doing anything.”

  “Oh, right. Like you’re not glamouring him?”

  “I’m not.”

  Tulio poured more alcohol and pulled out two more beers, adding them to a tab by the register, before he went back to the other waiting patrons.

  I lifted my eyebrow.

  “He’s doing it out of fear. Not from glamour.”

  “What?”

  “He remembers us. We showed up in his bar out of thin air. Roman Catholics have always held the Devil is real, not a mythical personification.” Ryker pointed between us. “Guess what we are to him?”

  “The Devil?” I responded. “I can see you, but me?”

  Ryker tilted his head forward, almost touching mine. “You probably even more than me. An alluring purple-haired woman with magic. Plus, you are with me willingly.”

  “Yeah. I am pretty scary.” I leaned in, a smile spread across my face. Did he just say I was alluring?

  “Tell me about it.”

  His lips were so close, I could feel the coolness from the beer he drank radiating off them. A voice far back in my brain told me to stop staring at his mouth. Get off my chair and go home. To be smart, or I would regret it.

  I was never good at listening. Especially to wise advice.

  Feedback from a mic pierced the room, hammering into my eardrums. My head wrenched to see where it was coming from. A man stood on the tiny stage with a band behind him. He spoke in Spanish, addressing the audience before breaking into song. The place went crazy with people screaming and dancing along with the music, the energy level heightening in the dark seedy pub.

  My head felt light, all my problems washing away as beer went down my throat. I caught Ryker’s eyes on me, examining. My stomach twisted in my belly. Nervous jitters fluttered around my insides.

  Danger. Danger.

  Still, I could not stop my words or the smile on my face. “You’re dodging the question.”

  “What question?” A smirk lifted the side of his mouth.

  Hell. Why was my heart crashing into my chest with his every glance?

  Ryker and I had been through a lot together, and somewhere along the way I began to see him as a man. Not fae or a monster, but my partner. When I thought he was dead, I’d felt genuine sorrow. Ryker and Sprig were never supposed to get under my skin, but they had. They changed everything. Now I could no longer see them as merely fae. They were even changing my feelings about fae in general.

  “Sex. Last time?” Bringing up sex with him was extremely dangerous territory, but my inhibitions were down and my mouth forgot it had a filter.

  “Like you said, I’ve been stuck with you the last month. Kind of limited my options.”

  The white bar napkin shredded between my fingers. “I was passed out for a week when we were with Elthia. Don’t tell me you didn’t take advantage? She clearly wanted to.”

  A frown tugged his mouth. “Elthia and I are in the past. Plus, I had... have someone.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he turned away, taking another gulp of beer. He faced the mirror behind the bottles of liquor. His body a wall.

  “Right. Amara.” I stared at my hands and drew my legs off his chair.

  We stayed silent for a moment.

  “Where did you meet her?”

  He didn’t answer. Silence stretched out. The world continued around us, the singing and dancing, but I barely noticed them.

  “We met in a bar, actually. In Romania.” He finally spoke, keeping his head forward. “It was instantaneous.”

  A fist punched through my heart. An automatic reaction. I couldn’t stop the consuming hurt and jealousy I felt. I swirled the brown liquid and slammed back the rest in my cup. “You’ll get her back,” I responded. “We’ll find a way.”

  He nodded absently. Both our bodies faced forward, looking away from each other. Horrible tension filled the space between us, growing so thick it hurt. My lids fell, squeezing together.

  “Zoey?” His voice was low and questioning.

  I crooked my neck, blocking my face from him. “Can you just go back to calling me human? It’s better. Uncomplicated.”

  He huffed out a long sigh. “Look at me.”

  I shook my head. I knew if I faced him he would see what I was feeling. What I still wanted to deny. He grabbed my legs and swung me around to face him. I became overly aware of where his hands touched my bare skin. His fingers trailed over my knees before sliding off.

  “Look up.” Again I jiggled my head no. “Zoey. Look. At. Me.”

  Slowly, I lifted my neck, my hair tickling my arms as it dragged up, along with my gaze. Our eyes locked. His demeanor had changed. His eyes blazed bright white; his tattoo on his neck flickered. This only happened with extreme emotions, like anger or lust, but it had been happening less and less since he began to lose his powers.

  Air caught in my throat. His expression flamed the desire circling around in my stomach. He searched my face for an answer I wasn’t sure of the question, but my countenance must have answered it. Because suddenly his hands gripped the sides of my face, drawing me to him, touching my forehead to his. His breath tickled my lips.

  “When did you sneak in?” he whispered so low I barely heard him. “Get this far under my skin?”

  It was like a bomb exploded in the room, creating a shield around us. My heart jackhammered against my ribs, my breath shallow. Our skin tingled every place it touched. The need for him consumed every nerve and made it hard to move or think.

  His skin glistened under the low light of the bar. A drip of perspiration trickled down his neck, my eyes watched it slide down the curve of his neck into the hollow space at the base of his throat. My hand went to where it pooled. His breath tightened the moment my fingers made contact with his skin. He swallowed but did not move. My brain no longer felt a part of my body. My fingers worked on their own as they trailed up his neck, slipping over his scruffy chin and stopping at his lips. He squeezed his eyes shut as the tip of my finger softly traced his lips.

  A rumble came from his chest. I lifted my eyes to look up into his. Need etched deep in his pupils, mirroring my own. His hand slipped farther into my hair, tilting my head. The heat between our mouths increased as we moved in closer. I shut my eyes, anticipating the feel of his lips, when an image of Amara calling out for Ryker slammed into my head. Pain in her eyes as she reached for him.

  What were we doing? He had a girlfriend. He was in love with someone else. Fear and guilt washed over me. Air whizzed through my hair and across my skin, making me lightheaded.

  Dammit. Not again.

  TEN

  I opened my eyes. I was back in the ladies’ room. A girl was drying her hands and squeaked, doing a double take when she saw me standing next to her. She tossed the paper away, keeping a wary gaze on me before rushing out of the room. I leaned my hands on either side of the sink, taking in a gulp of air.

  “What the fuck are you thinking, Zoey?” I addressed the image in the mirror. Nothing good can come of us crossing the line. It would only lead to more
heartbreak for me. Something I couldn’t handle anymore. He had Amara. It was better if we simply stayed “business partners” until this mess was over. He would return to her and go back to his life free of humans the moment he could. Having his powers within me was like having him on a leash. Once I let him off, he would be gone. Discarded. No. I would not do it to myself again.

  Something tickled my upper lip, and I turned to the image in the mirror. A trickle of blood dripped from my nose. Reality. It always came and bit you in the ass.

  I wiped away the blood and let the cool water from the faucet wash over my hands and through my fingers, splashing a little on my chest and face. The red-stained water trailed down the drain. With a tissue I patted my face dry and shut down my mind to what it meant.

  I felt him behind me before I even looked up, his presence hovered heavy in the air. My lashes lifted, and I saw his reflection in the glass. He watched me with no expression on his face. Somehow I knew he’d been there long enough to see my nosebleed.

  A toilet flushed, and a blonde woman in her early thirties came out of the stall. Her gaze darted between the two of us. Her eyes widened, and she scurried for the door, mumbling something in English. She squeezed past Ryker without touching him and glanced once more over her shoulder before dashing out. There was no door on the main bathroom, only an opening. The music and voices seemed distant. All I saw and felt was him.

  He continued to stare at me, and his eyes held emotion. Want. Need. I couldn’t move, my eyes fastened on his reflection.

  You just had another reminder you could die tomorrow, Zoey. Regret what you didn’t do... not what you did.

  All my fears followed the discolored water down the drain. I wanted him. I longed for him to touch me so much it ached. I could pretend my jumping was because of Amara, but it was a lie. It was fear. I had fought my feelings since the night he saved me from the freezing water in Seattle. I think we both did, but we could no longer ignore it. The elephant in the room was stomping its feet and demanding we take notice.

  I watched his eyes move up my figure. My skin tingled every place they went. Then his eyes landed back on mine. Desire charged his expression. The dam we’d tried to build between us splintered. We moved at the same time.