Trickster’s Hunt

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Trickster’s Hunt Page 6

by Kel Carpenter


  “Are you staying in the hotel, too?” I regretted asking immediately. Desperate much?

  “I’m nearby,” he said, but when I looked up, there was the hint of a smile and he slowed to a stop before the lifts. “It really has been a pleasure to meet you, Maia.”

  He leaned in to kiss my cheek, but I wasn’t prepared. About to return the compliment, I turned my head toward his and the kiss landed on my slightly open mouth. And I froze.

  I don’t know if he mistook it all as an invitation, but before I had any idea what was happening, his mouth, hot and sweet and soft, pressed against mine. I couldn’t tell which tickling sensation was most likely to allow the groan held in my throat to escape: the short beard, or his tongue tracing my bottom lip, asking me to part them.

  Somehow, I couldn’t decline. My whole body came alive, every part of me wanting to be closer, wanting more of him, to taste him, touch him.

  Desire took over and I felt my hands skim over his muscled shoulders. I knew what they looked like, but the feel of them beneath my palms was so satisfying. I could have gotten lost in him, climbed up him and rode him right there in the hotel lobby, had the lift doors not sprung open and a robotic female voice announced, “Ground Floor.”

  We both paused. I had two choices: pull him in with me, or back away. I wanted him, but there it was again, the voice of fucking insanity telling me he could have someone at home.

  I pulled away, stepping backward into the lift. It was my voice that said, “It’s been lovely. Thanks.” And it was him who stood smirking as the lift doors closed.

  Breathless, confused, and aching for him, I punched the button for my floor and frowned at my distorted reflection in the door.

  So close! Why the fuck had I walked away from that? Dan had fucked me over, well and truly. Fucking wanker. As the lift jerked into motion, I cursed my ex to hell and back.

  9

  Silas

  I could hear him pacing. It was unlike him. Whoever she was, she was not good for us. The effect she had with just one meeting was unsettling.

  Rhett had sought out human company more frequently than Amos and me. His needs were greater, I suppose, but never had any of them been anything more than a passing fancy.

  This girl, and she was just a girl in comparison to the women I would usually choose, was something entirely different.

  I’d known the moment I lay my hands on her that she was not your average human. I could feel the difference in the softness of her skin. In the soft curl of her golden hair. In the way her muscles moved when she clenched her thighs together. I knew she felt it, too. The short, quiet breaths she took as my hands ran over her.

  Shit. I was hard just thinking about it.

  When I’d seen the mark on her hip it was confirmed. My hand brushed the darkened skin and I felt the stab of pain between my shoulder blades. I’d warned them not to touch it when they’d each sought her out. Three men behaving strangely around the mark would make her self-conscious, and for some reason, I cared how it would make her feel.

  I’d kept that to myself, telling them of the pain I’d experienced and warned them to protect themselves. Not that they needed it. Of the three of us, it could be argued I was the reckless one.

  We’d each claimed our own section of our home, but only usually split up to sleep. We never brought women back. It wasn’t worth the risk. To expose ourselves would be…I didn’t know what it would be; we had never dared.

  Since we’d awoken there, we had little information as to who we were, why we were imprisoned there, or for how long. We had discovered our abilities accidentally.

  The pacing had stopped, and I ventured out to the area in the centre of our home to check on him. He was standing by a bookcase, book open in one hand, which was his norm, but it was obvious he’d picked it up to use as a shield.

  “I do not want to talk about it.”

  “I know.”

  The living space was a mish mash of furnishings and articles from the various time periods we’d existed through. While we rarely ventured out. When we did, we brought back memories of the world outside and replicated various items.

  I took an interest in weaponry, Rhett in languages, and Amos in almost everything else. The result was something that resembled a strange combination of library, museum, and curiosity shop. But it was home.

  “Yet you hound me.”

  I gave him a hard look. “Well, that’s a lie.”

  He glared at me from across the room before sinking into a large armchair. “That is absurd. What is she, Silas?”

  I didn’t have an answer. She was perfection. She was the sun and the stars and the pull of the moon. She was…

  “Dangerous.”

  He looked at me, a flicker of accusation in his eyes. “Yet you allowed Amos to go to her a second time?”

  I shrugged my shoulders and flopped down onto a large cushion on the floor. “How would I stop him?”

  Rhett knew the answer was that I couldn’t. We had fallen into a strange rank of sorts over our time together. They did look to me for leadership when important decisions were to be made, but it was not for me to tell Amos not to return to the hotel. He felt compelled to see her again. I wouldn’t inflict the discomfort of refraining on him. The mark between my shoulders had ached since I’d touched the little birthmark on her hip.

  At least she’d said it was a birthmark, but the burning need to see her, the ache in my groin, said it was something else.

  “You could have denied his request. You should have. If she knows of us, it could be a lure. Someone hunting us for our abilities.”

  I shook my head. “If that were the case, she wouldn’t have left herself vulnerable to attack.” She had been so vulnerable. Entirely exposed and at my mercy. One touch in the right place and she would have been entirely mine.

  His eyes narrowed. “She has affected you.”

  I adjusted myself and grinned. He didn’t see the humour in it.

  “She is not like other humans, Silas. There was a reason I did not touch her.”

  “I didn’t have a choice but to touch her, Rhett, given my disguise as her masseuse. What did you make of her? What has roused your suspicion? Did she lie to you? Was she dishonest in any way?” I tried to keep the annoyance from my voice.

  This wasn’t his fault. Whatever she was, she was a threat until we discovered otherwise. Her effect on us was proof of that.

  Glancing up to the ceiling, Rhett frowned. “Amos has been gone for over an hour.”

  It had been closer to two. I was counting the seconds myself.

  “He may not find her.”

  I knew he’d find her. He may have more self-control than Rhett and I combined, but if he wanted to find someone, he would. Especially her. I would have traced her in under ten minutes.

  “What is it, exactly, that you don’t like about her? She seems perfectly harmless.”

  “She was unkind to the cat.”

  I snorted and reached out to the fruit bowl at my side to pluck up a grape. “Many people dislike cats. Why do you revere them?” I popped the fruit into my mouth and looked at him. He was still holding the book, maintaining the façade of reading the damn thing.

  “I do not revere him, but the little creature has been of assistance to us. Her treatment of him—”

  “So, you judge her whole character on the dislike of one animal?”

  “Anyone incapable of compassion for an animal is not to be trusted.”

  I shook my head and ate another grape as Amos returned, heading straight to where Rhett was sitting. I didn’t ask, since he looked like he was bursting to tell.

  “You are still alive, then?” Rhett hid his relief with sarcasm, as usual.

  Amos barked out a laugh and ruffled his hair. “What did you imagine she would do? Stab me with a cocktail stick?”

  I sat up, tilting my head indicating he continue.

  “We drank. We talked. I walked her to the elevator. I kissed her goodbye.”
>
  Rhett looked as though he was choking.

  Rage built in my chest, but I swallowed it. “How?”

  “Shall I draw you a picture? Give you a physical demonstration?”

  I closed my eyes, the image of her filling my mind, and sighed. “Is there any pain?”

  Rhett sat forward intently, at last discarding the book, and looked at me. “You still feel the pain?”

  I rolled my shoulders uncomfortably. “A mild burning sensation, nothing more. What was more intriguing was her reluctance to walk away.”

  “You mean…” He looked at me with disgust.

  “She wouldn’t have taken much persuading.”

  She could barely walk, I sniggered to myself.

  “Where do we go from here?” Rhett was pissed. I couldn’t work out if he was jealous or concerned, so naturally he changed the subject.

  “I’d like to get to know her.” I didn’t need to elaborate. Amos knew.

  Rhett was pretending he hadn’t understood. “What did you discover about her?”

  Amos grinned. “She is nineteen, eats copious quantities of food, is there entirely alone until Sunday, and is ripe for the—”

  “Is she dangerous?” Rhett cut in.

  “Why don’t you go speak to her, get to know her, and find out?” Amos snapped. He hated to be interrupted.

  “No,” I interjected and they both looked at me confused. “I’ll go next. I want to find out more about her. The talking cat wouldn’t be hounding us, insisting we find her, if she wasn’t important. Where is the little pipsqueak, anyway?”

  Rhett looked mutinous, rising from his seat, but kept his opinion of my plan to himself. “He is outside, keeping watch as always.”

  Despite my feeling towards the cat, I was grateful to him for that. We’d been in the same place for almost two decades, and never had he allowed anyone to touch our home. Not even his human.

  “Anxiety, Rhett? For someone who likes women so much, you’re putting a lot of work into avoiding this one.” I couldn’t help myself. Cheap shot? Absolutely. But I was focused on the fact that Amos had done the one thing I wished I’d had the opportunity to and the jealousy was affecting my mood.

  “She may be dangerous. His concern is warranted…for now,” Amos said, flicking his eyes to Rhett.

  Rhett rolled his eyes and stalked to his room. “Please do not show her where I am when she begins dismembering you.”

  Amos stretched, placing his hands behind his head. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “He suspects she seeks our power. How she could possibly know what we are when we aren’t entirely sure ourselves is beyond me, but—”

  Arching a brow, Amos looked at me. “He told you this?”

  “Of course he did. But I suspected before he said so.” I was rarely wrong. He would be the first to admit it. “I believe she is linked, somehow, to the answer to our questions. As is the telepathic cat.”

  Amos cocked a brow. “Which he’s not concerned by in the slightest.”

  “Why would he be concerned by a telepathic cat?”

  His laugh was relaxed and happy. Whatever she had done to him, it only appeared to be positive. “I think we can be certain of what we are. Rhett’s research has been extensive, and we’ve proven time and again that the power is in each of us. The only question that remains is why. Perhaps the cat can tell us?”

  I wouldn’t trust the cat to give a straight answer. Horrible little beast only told us what it wanted us to know, and even then he seemed peeved at the inconvenience.

  “It can’t hurt to ask. Has she caused you any pain?”

  He shook his head. “Not pain, no. And you? Do you really continue to feel it?”

  The burn was still there. I couldn’t ignore it.

  “Some. It’s that small birthmark on her hip. It’s a very strange shape. I’m hoping to see a difference when I see her again. For better or worse, it’ll confirm its link to her.”

  “If there is an improvement?” The glint in his eyes flared jealousy simmering in my chest.

  “She stays with me.” It sounded more threatening than I meant it.

  If he felt the same, he showed no sign. I was relieved. The last thing I wanted was animosity between us, not after all this time.

  It had been the three of us since we awoke in that accursed container, and our journey together had been long and confusing. To jeopardise our dynamic, especially when we seemed so close to uncovering the answers we so desperately sought, would be foolish. Particularly over a girl.

  “I look forward to that. Her reaction to you bringing her here should be interesting to say the least.” He was smirking.

  “Is she feisty?”

  He shrugged. “I think she has some fire in her belly. It just needs drawing out.”

  “I think I can manage that.” I got up from my cushion and cracked my neck.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To talk to the cat.” I didn’t want to. Grateful or not, I didn’t like the arrogant shit one bit.

  He gave a single nod of his head and rested back his head, closing his eyes. “If Rhett comes out of his sulk, should I tell him where you’ve gone?”

  I gave him a look that suggested I didn’t care and left him.

  The cat had answers. It was time for him to share some of the information he’d been keeping to himself.

  10

  Don’t ask me why I was walking the streets at ten in the morning after the previous day’s events. It should have been enough to put me off leaving the safety of very large buildings forever, but something compelled me to leave the hotel after breakfast.

  I watched the roads warily as I walked down the busy streets, not jumpy, but painfully aware of the danger posed by the passing traffic. I didn’t even know where I was heading until I found myself sat in Trafalgar Square.

  It was heaving. People bloody everywhere: in groups, couples, the solitary weirdo seated beneath a massive bronze lion stuffing her face with a cinnamon sugared waffle. Well, there was when I reached it and planted my arse.

  I’d found a little waffle cart on my way there, purely by accident, which was fortunate. I was just thinking that I could use a snack as I turned a corner out of Piccadilly Circus, and there it was. Waffles of all descriptions: chocolate dipped, spiced, with ice cream, with sauces. I went with cinnamon sugar and ordered three. By the time I’d reached the colossal feline and parked my bum, I was down to one.

  And someone wanted to share.

  I hate pigeons. Fucking vermin.

  And London is swarming with them. They gradually ceased to serve a purpose after the second world war, and now? Well, no need to send a bird when you can send a text, is there? Stupid things were more likely to be wiped out flying too low near the motorway anyway. Your message isn’t going anywhere when it’s been hit at sixty miles per hour and disintegrated in a puff of feathers.

  So, whether released or escaped or what, I don’t know, but they gathered here in their hundreds, strutting around the pedestrian areas like they owned the place, waiting for dropped morsels, wobbling away from unruly kids who loved to chase them.

  I watched one particularly quick kid drop a bag of crisps on the floor and try to grab a bird as it stuck its greedy fat head in the way to scoff one. If his hands had been bigger, he’d have caught the thing. I was a bit disappointed when it flapped away.

  Movement on the step beside me drew my attention and I smiled up at the stranger.

  “Oh! Hi…Rhett, was it?”

  He didn’t look mightily pleased to see me and I wondered why he’d come over to me in the first place if he just wanted to scowl. He could have done that from a hundred yards away and I wouldn’t have been any the wiser.

  “Hello, Miss. May I?”

  Despite his unfriendly facial expression, he voice was pleasant. His accent really was very appealing. He was dressed in stone linen trousers and a white linen shirt that was open one button too many, exposing his caramel, muscled che
st.

  Before it was too obvious I was staring, I nodded my head and he sat, looking around at the people gathered as a round of applause disturbed the swarming winged rats.

  I pulled my gaze away from him, out to the centre of the square, to see a couple mid-marriage proposal. The guy was on bended knee, the girl was standing with her hands over her mouth in what everyone seemed to think was shock and glee. A tiny dark corner of me hoped it was abject horror and waited for her to scamper off through the crowds like Cinderella from the ball. But she didn’t.

  I looked back to my companion. “Day off?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “From the hotel?”

  He looked utterly confused. “I do not work at a hotel.”

  “You were waiting the tables at my hotel only two nights ago? You handed me my phone when it fell out of my bag…”

  His frown deepened. “You assumed I was a waiter?”

  Oh, bloody hell.

  I felt my cheeks heat as I realised what I’d said. I was such a dickhead! I started to ramble, trying to dig my way out of the hole, but I think I just made it worse.

  “Well, you were wearing a plain white shirt and were in the restaurant, and I didn’t see you sat at a table, and you didn’t correct me the other night…and then you were feeding that cat, so I thought…”

  He raised his brows at my rambling admission, forehead wrinkling only slightly. “Where did your assumption come from?”

  “I-I just said…”

  I couldn’t tell for certain, but he seemed to be enjoying himself. His eyes poured over me, before locking with mine. “Would it have been my skin colour that contributed to that belief?”

  “N-no…” Lie.

  He leaned forward and murmured in my ear, “Liar.”

  Everything below my waist clenched. Somehow, he was making an accusation sound sexy. “I just assumed…”

  “Do you know what assumption is?”

  He hadn’t moved away. I could feel his breath on my ear. I could smell his aftershave. I felt a now familiar ache creep into my lower abdomen and I had to force myself not to kiss his perfectly formed lips.

 

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