Pisces

by Kim Faulks

  My mouth went dry…pulse picked up speed, and those dark eyes flashed in my direction. Even in the dark he found me, and those haunting words filled my head. Do that again and we’ll see why I was cursed in the first place.

  Hard muscles rolled under his crisp white shirt as he worked the buttons from one to another…lower…lower…lower. I swallowed hard as the soft scrape of a chair behind me closed in.

  “Come on sugar,” a woman murmured in one of the cubicles. “Let’s take this party elsewhere.”

  They were leaving…more were climbing to their feet, the soft drone of their voices were muffled under the beat. But they were leaving…I turned back to Mr. Rock here…all except for him.

  Stone’s white shirt parted, revealing the smooth hard curve of his chest, then tight abs. But it was the tattoo that reached from his belly and across his chest that screamed dangerous…powerful.

  Dear God…

  “Holy shit,” sleaze bag murmured.

  And I understood now…I understood why I was here, and it wasn’t for my dancing ability. I was needed in this room when the real dancing went down. White fabric fluttered and skimmed across the floor with a sweep of a hand.

  I had to remember to move…had to remember why I was here in the first place. But seeing him…bare chested, all six-foot-plus of hulking muscle…made me small and pathetic. So I did the only thing I could do—I used the distraction and slowly stepped down off the platform.

  “The man I spoke about…the one who liked to talk, he said the word Slaven.”

  “Huh?” the sleaze bag muttered, unable to take his eyes from Stone. “What about it?”

  Energy coursed with his words. “He said he knew all about Slaven, said that Blaze trusted him, and only him with the details.”

  Mr. Rock wrenched his head toward me, desire glinted like uncut diamonds. “Then he was lying. Blaze wouldn’t tell him where Slaven is. Only his top guards and I know. I gotta get the stuff there, right? He can’t expect me to load up the truck and wait for his men to drive the damn thing. It’s a shit-hole place to get to anyway. Damn roads are too tight, scratched the paintwork off the front of my rig.”

  He yanked his gaze back to Stone. My body trembled, urging me to turn my head, and follow the desire. I clenched my fist and dragged my shirt over my head, leaving me a bra and jeans. “And those roads are terrible…especially over there.”

  “Damn right,” he muttered, the bastard was almost panting.

  I brushed his knee with mine, splaying his legs wide. “I don’t know how you backed the truck all the way up there. I can’t even get my little car down…what’s the name of that road? I always forget.”

  “Lannis…Lannis road.”

  A tremor raced. I could feel Stone moving toward me, feel his gaze on my body like a breath along my spine. I could feel his hunger, and his hunger matched mine. My hound was rising and this time there was no stopping the darkness…no stopping the beast.

  His black leather chair glistened with an orange glow as I leaned closer. “Lannis, yeah…that’s right.” Warped words were filled with need.

  He flinched at the sound as Stone stepped onto the platform behind me, and I whispered. “And how far did you say Slaven was down Lannis road?”

  9

  Bastian

  Streets blurred into streets. I walked, for how long I wasn’t sure. I tried to follow the directions she gave me, but somehow my feet had a life of their own.

  Her blood dried on my clothes.

  I looked down at the mess. It wasn’t as though I was squeamish, and it wasn’t the first innocent’s blood I’d worn. But I could still feel her warmth slip away…still see those flames die in her eyes. Still feel the need to protect, as though she were my responsibility.

  Heat surged, tearing across my chest to settle deep in my bones. I reached for the collar of my shirt and yanked. So hot…so damn hot.

  Desire bloomed. I stilled, sucked in a hard breath, and felt my pulse pick up pace. “What the hell?”

  The throaty growl was just as fucking alien as the heat in my loins. I gripped the waist of my pants and yanked, searching for relief. Goddamn clothing rubbed…and the thunder in my head drowned out my thoughts. I turned my head and searched unfamiliar streets.

  Lights beckoned in the distance. I’d walked for fucking hours in the opposite direction to where I wanted to be. I wanted out of this damn place, and yet…yet the blood on my clothes pulled me back here.

  No. It wasn’t just the damn blood…it was her.

  Her with a snarl and curl of those lips. Her with secrets. Her that didn’t want me…that didn’t want any part of me around. And her with the fire…and the flames that ignited something dangerous inside.

  Nothing here made sense. She didn’t make sense. She was a killer…and not just any killer—she was ruthless and savage. And the secrets she kept betrayed her own kin.

  She was just like us…

  The things we’d done—the thought rocked me—the things we’d done ruined us all. Catalyst…you there?

  He was seething…hiding. Changing. Violet and red burned in our gaze. Heat lashed, like a tongue that licked from my balls to my cock. I stiffened and reached for my damn pants. “What the fuck is going on here?”

  Dark…dangerous…my heart sped as an image filled my mind.

  Her face. Her goddamn face. This was her…this desire. This need. It was her…connected…right? We were connected. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding.”

  There was another…a male…I could smell him—scent him. Hungry…so hungry…the need filled me, and Jesus if I didn’t feel her desire.

  My lip curled…and all of a sudden dangerous didn’t come fucking close to what I was feeling. My steps lengthened. The blood on my shirt no longer mattered. Nothing mattered…only her…only that ravenous need to be sated.

  She was a woman. A fucking stunning woman. She had a damn right to be desired.

  She had a damn right to meet her own needs, whatever that was.

  She had a right to be treated like a woman should.

  To be wanted. To be desired. To be craved for…and naked…naked in my bed. To be in my arms…to be underneath me with her breath in my ear and her goddamn legs wrapped around my waist.

  My heart hammered. Nerves wound tight…I was so fucking wound…I craned my head and tested the muscle—so fucking wound. My fingers clenched as I crossed the street.

  Instinct led me, one step at a time. Blue neon lights buzzed in the distance.

  Cursed… The damn bar beckoned. I could feel her close…real fucking close. I mounted the stairs and yanked the handle.

  Fucking stripper bar? I kept on moving. I didn’t care. She was a fucking magnet as far as I was concerned.

  “Hey, you can’t—” the barman called out and raised a hand.

  I wrenched my gaze toward him and curled my lip. The kid’s gaze dropped to my shirt…he smelled what I was. Whites gleamed as his eyes widened and fear took hold. This wasn’t me…this on edge, this hunter.

  She did this. She turned me into this beast…this fucking animal. I strode past the bar and headed for the door marked Private, and with each step the need wound tighter.

  The boom in my head drowned out the sound of my boots. I twisted the handle and shoved open the door. Darkness descended, and a faint scent…soft, musky, filled with sex and wanting.

  The shadows moved, and a man mountain stepped into my path and rested his hand against my chest. “Can’t come back here.”

  He dropped his gaze to the dried blood. If he cared he didn’t show it. I glanced behind him to the black-out curtains and soft strobing lights. She was in here…

  “Move…”

  The bouncer never moved. “I said you can’t come back here.”

  Violet flames danced across his chest. I lifted my head, even though he towered over me he was no match. “You know what I am?”

  My Dragon pushed to the surface, hunting…hungry. He drew in her scent. He wan
ted her…he wanted her. Heat licked the back of my throat. I could taste the flames. “You’ve got two choices. Step aside…or burn.”

  His hand slipped, fingers curled. “Guardian,” he murmured. “Jesus…”

  I didn’t wait for the ending, couldn’t have cared less about his fucking moment. I pushed past and headed for the hallway, drawn by something far greater than hate and rage.

  I was drawn by her.

  The soft sound of a grunt was followed with a murmur. I knew this was wrong—knew this wasn’t what I wanted. I couldn’t invade her privacy, and make a damn fool of myself. But I couldn’t stop myself from moving. Couldn’t stop the hunger from taking control.

  I slowed at the end of the hallway and shoved the curtain aside. Skin was all I saw…hers…his….they never moved, didn’t register I was there—until she stiffened, straightened, and then slowly turned.

  I glanced at her bra and her jeans, and then the blood. The mess dripped from her neck to her chest and slipped in between the valley of her breasts.

  Fuck it looked good on her.

  It looked so damn good I wanted to see her in nothing else.

  “This isn’t what you think,” she murmured as the male behind her rose from the ground.

  I made out his outline in the dark. The bastard was huge. “Actually, it’s exactly what you think. Do you mind? A little privacy for me and the lady.”

  Fire lashed, punching through my chest. “Yes, I fucking mind.”

  Movement blurred as he pushed past her to stand in front of me, and on any other day I might’ve let his mucho bullshit slide. But it was not that fucking day.

  Amaris grasped his arm. “Um, Stone…”

  “Not now,” he growled.

  And yet it was very fucking much now. He leaned forward, lifted a hand and poked me in the center of my chest. “You come into my club and give me attitude. You need to learn some goddamn manners…Mr.…Mr.…I don’t even know your name.”

  “It’s Bastian.”

  “Bastian,” he sneered. “Now I’m only going to say this once—”

  “Bastian Kane.”

  The words seemed to dry up in his mouth as I took a step. I couldn’t help it, the blood, the hunger…her. The Catalyst swam closer, pushed harder…scales glinted with the soft light.

  “Guardian…” the male muttered.

  I dragged in his scent and felt the walls close in. I knew who he was…

  Hunger…pain…fire…one word rushed to the surface. “Four…”

  He flinched with the name. His top lip curled, but there was no snarl. “Stone.”

  Amaris pushed in, cutting me down with one brutal stare. “When the sword fighting is done gentlemen, we’ve got a body to dispose of.”

  My mind raced. “Sword fighting?”

  “You know.” Stone smirked. “Is yours bigger, or is mine?”

  Violet flames reflected in his eyes as I answered. “Mine is definitely bigger.”

  There was a second where that sneer was a little too cruel and a little too fake, and something menacing lingered under the surface. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

  “Yeah well, both of you can cock-fight on your own damn time, or if you’re not going to help…just get out of my fucking way.”

  And that was how it was with her. That was it entirely. This woman needed no one. She sure as fuck didn’t need me.

  She leaned down, gripped something from the floor and heaved, smacking into the back of the Cursed Hellhound.

  “Please, let me take that.” The brute turned and tried to muscle in.

  But the damn thing was all for show. She knew it. I knew it.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” she snarled.

  Stone jostled around, trying to heave this dead guy from her hands. “Let me…let me take him.”

  She turned her head, flames ignited in her eyes. “Just get out of the damn way, Stone.”

  The poor guy…he really had no idea. A smile crept along my lips, and this violent streak of jealously waned. Men like Stone wanted to be in charge…wanted the illusion of being in charge. They didn’t know how to act around a woman like Amaris, and he sure as hell didn’t want to come face to face with Xael, Gunny, Eva, Joslyn, Odessa, or Abrial.

  They’d send him packing…

  With his head shoved up his ass.

  “What the fuck are you smiling at?”

  I dragged my gaze to the snarling male and saw him differently. He was no threat. He was just another hopeless damn man about to be schooled. Amaris jerked and dragged the body toward the curtains.

  “Can I grab the feet?” I shifted to the side allowing her past the curtain.

  “Sure.”

  I bent down, grabbed the stiff’s ankles and walked.

  “Turn right,” Stone growled beside me. “The car’s waiting.”

  The dull light bounced off her skin. She focused on the task, her face a mixture of determination and apprehension. I could feel her now, feel the black hole of emotions that threatened to consume her.

  An image flared through my mind. A house carved into the face of a mountain. Black, cold…menacing. Footsteps stilled, still momentum drove me forward. The dead guy’s legs buckled, and in an instant the image of the house was gone, snatched away as though it’d never been there at all.

  I lifted my head to find Amaris’s cold stare.

  There were no words, but there didn’t need to be. The savage glint in her eyes said it all…

  Stay out of my head.

  Not my thoughts. Not my image…an ache flared across my chest. Her heartsblood had changed me, physically…emotionally—and now goddamn telepathically.

  I glanced down to the wide, terrified stare of the dead guy. His throat was a damn mess, chunks of flesh hung from his throat. Even from here I could see the pale ligaments ripped and shredded. One glance of Prince Charming’s unmarked shirt said he didn’t get close enough to get himself dirty.

  But she did—didn’t she? Amaris wasn’t afraid to get herself dirty at all. I realized that under that icy surface, Amaris was fragile.

  But she wasn’t fragile like flower.

  She was fragile like a bomb.

  Only one question remained. “Did you get what you wanted?”

  Her hands clenched around the dead guy’s arms. She took a step backwards. “Yes.”

  The hallway filled with the shuffle of steps, and the groan of a door. I wanted to know what that information was…what was worth this guy’s life…and the blood on her hands. I reached for that image—the house on the side of the mountain.

  “Through there, that’s it,” Stone snarled and pushed in behind me.

  The open trunk of a sedan waited—engine throbbed, red lights splashed, lighting up the dried blood on my pants. I took one glance at the alley beside the club and lifted. The body hit the trunk of the car with a thud and then rolled.

  She stared at the blood on my clothes, and then slowly lifted her gaze. “Looks like both of us got what we wanted tonight.”

  The slam of the trunk shattered the moment. Stone gave the car a thud with his fist, and waited for the car to pull away before he turned. “Are you going tonight? You might need some backup.”

  She shook her head, but that hostile gaze lingered on me. “No, thank you. I’ve got it. I’ll wait for Parry and the others. They won’t be too much longer. Probably best we wait for daylight anyway.”

  “And you…Guardian. You’ll be wanting somewhere to crash I take it? Maybe a set of clean clothes, huh?”

  I found the Cursed’s stare and gave a nod. “Yes, thank you.”

  “Good night, gentleman,” Amaris whispered and took a step toward the shadows. “I’d say it was good doing business with you, but then again, I’d be lying.”

  She melted into the night, leaving nothing but the dull thud of her boots behind. My body trembled, energy coursed. I wanted to go after her, and be part of this…whatever this was. I wanted the truth goddamnit. I wanted the fuckin
g truth.

  “She’s gone, Guardian.” Stone sniggered. “Not much sense in getting yourself all tight over one that got away.”

  I turned toward him, wanting to mutter something pithy and cruel. But the guy was just doing what guys do…take down the competition. Only the guy was a few hours too late. The woman was already under my skin…just as she was inside my veins.

  I stepped through the side door and headed down the hall, but then stopped…thinking.

  “Guardian?”

  I found his gaze in the dark…trust. If Amaris trusted him then I had to take the chance. “The house in the mountain. Dark windows, cold.”

  “Yeah, I know it.”

  “I want to know who lives there. And why…”

  …why this image torments her.

  “Drink, shower, and then we talk Guardian.” He pushed past and headed for the man mountain standing at the door. “I’ve got some questions of my own that need answers first.”

  He shoved through the door and headed past the dancers. Heads snapped up at the intrusion. A snarl tore free from a red-faced man who hunkered over his beer. Orange flames flickered in his eyes. But he never said a word as Stone strode toward the bar and held up two fingers…no one wanted to mess with one of the Cursed.

  The barman moved fast, grabbing two clean tumblers. Scotch splashed the bottom of the glass. He grasped one and then turned. “To dark corners.”

  I tipped my head and lifted the glass. The alcohol burned all the way down, melting away this damn night. I reached for the ache in my chest. Standing here with a glass in my hand and the heat in my belly. It could almost be…normal.

  “Bring the bottle, Guardian. Let’s get you cleaned up before you scare off the damn clientele.”

  I grasped the bottle as the Hellhound turned and made for the door at the back of the bar. A set of stairs hugged the wall to a landing and a bank of rooms.

  “You stay here?”

  He slowed long enough to glance over his shoulder. “Sometimes.”

  The bastard gave nothing away as he hit the last stair and headed left. The doors and the hallway sank into shadows. Soft, ankle high lights spilled along the floor, lighting the way.