Huntress Moon (Bones and Bounties Book 2)

by Bilinda Sheehan

  The ghost of a smile crossed Byron’s face before he disappeared down the stairs, but I heard his voice drifting back up after him. “Frumusețe niciodată vârstele dragă doamnă.”

  “Don’t flatter me, boy,” Noree said, but despite her gruff voice I could tell that she was indeed flattered, which only served to further intrigue me. What was it about Byron that made her want to help him? Hell, what was it about him that made her want to help me? Even when she had worked for Mannan, I had never seen her so…flirtatious. The mere thought of Noree being flirtatious almost caused me to burst out laughing, but I quickly crushed it down inside where it could do no harm.

  “What did he say?” I asked, but Noree sneered at me.

  “Heed my words, girl. Come back as soon as you are able.” She pushed me out the door and onto the top step before I could further question her. The door slammed shut after me.

  I jogged down the narrow stairs and emerged onto the street. The last time I’d been here, I’d been bringing Samira to the Noree for protection. “Shit, Samira,” I said, glancing down at my watch. Hours had passed since I’d left her at the office.

  I searched my pockets for my cell phone, panic sparking in my chest when I came up empty. What if she’d been calling me? What if the bald, creepy witch hunters had come back?

  “What’s wrong?” Byron asked.

  “I can’t find my cell phone,” I said, checking the back pocket of my jeans.

  “Noree dug it out of your pocket when I brought you to her. It was in bits…it must have happened when my guy got the drop on you.”

  “For starters,” I said hotly, “your guy didn’t get the drop on me. I was pushed. And two, I really need to get back to the office.”

  “You can borrow mine if you need to make a call.” Byron pulled out his own phone and held it out to me.

  I shook my head. “No good, I can’t remember her number.” Getting Samira her own cell phone had been one of the first things we had done after stopping the hybrid. Well, that and getting her some clothes of her own so she didn’t have to wear mine, which were far too big.

  “Really?” Byron asked. “You’re Death’s harbinger and you can’t remember a simple phone number?”

  I shook my head. “Nope, magic doesn’t make me any more likely to remember things like numbers or names. Faces I can do, but that’s about it.” I closed my eyes and called upon the connection between me and my motorcycle.

  “What’s wrong?” Byron asked, breaking my concentration.

  “Nothing, I—” I cut off; it wasn’t really something I could explain. “I’m sorting transportation,” I said finally.

  “I’ll give you a ride,” he said, and I stared at him in surprise.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

  “You’re not afraid of motorcycles, are you?” he asked. “You were totally out of it before, so you didn’t seem to mind.”

  “A motorcycle?” I felt relieved. I hadn’t wanted to imagine how we’d gotten to Noree’s house.

  “Yeah,” he said, giving me a sideways look, “how did you think we…” It was his turn to trail off, and he met my gaze with a grin. “You didn’t think I carried you here, did you?”

  “No,” I said, but the image of him streaking through the city with me on his back as he went full-on wolf lingered inside my head. “Don’t be ridiculous,” I snapped, but he continued to grin at me. “I really need to get back to the office, so if you’re going to continue to look at me with that shit-eating grin on your face, I’ll catch my own ride.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

  He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Sorry, it’s just that for a second you looked like you were thinking…” He turned away from me with a chuckle. Without another word, he started down the street toward the alley that ran alongside Noree’s restaurant. I followed, and when I reached the mouth of the alley I couldn’t help the small sigh of satisfaction that escaped me.

  “A Kawasaki Ninja ZX-14R,” I said, my voice getting just a little breathy as I stared at the sleek body of the bike.

  “You know your bikes,” Byron said, and for the first time since I’d met him he sounded pleasantly surprised.

  “Enough to get by on.” I eyed the black and green paint job that made the bike look as though its sides had been scored by the claws of something large and angry.

  Byron threw his leg over the seat and indicated for me to climb on. There wasn’t a whole lot of room—the bike wasn’t built for two people, and I had to wonder just how he had transported me to Noree’s with so little room to manoeuvre. At the end of the day, it was a bike built more for speed and sport than tooling around the city.

  The bike roared to life beneath me, and I wrapped my arms around Byron’s waist. The lack of space meant I was crushed against him, and when I rested my cheek against his solid, muscular back I could hear his heartbeat. The steady rhythm passed through me, and I began to relax as the bike leaped forward and out of the alley.

  Chapter Seven

  The lights were still on in the office when Byron let the motorbike glide down the street. My stomach slowly settled as I caught sight of Samira through the window. Byron drew the bike to a halt and killed the engine, the abrupt silence filling my ears as though I’d suddenly been submerged underwater.

  “We’re here,” he said, shattering the peace, and I quickly untangled my arms from around his waist.

  The moment I was free of him, I slipped from the bike and stood awkwardly on the sidewalk. He dismounted and shot me a wide grin that made him look young and almost innocent. Of course, the scar that ran down his cheek reminded me that he was far from innocent—he was an alpha wolf who’d only hours ago threatened to rip out my throat. So why did I feel a tug of something long buried when I stared up into his eyes?

  “Nice to finally find a woman after my own heart,” he said, his smile open and carefree.

  I could almost imagine what it might be like to let his excitement wash over me and carry me away on the current, taking me wherever he wanted.

  But it didn’t work like that.

  I wasn’t some naive young fae who could be taken in by a wolf. I wouldn’t lose my head around him.

  “Did I say something wrong?” he asked, his expression darkening. Clearly, my thoughts had been mirrored on my face.

  “No, it’s not you—” I started to say, but Byron shook his head with a rueful smile.

  “Don’t finish that sentence. I don’t think you’re one for clichés. That would just ruin your perfect streak.”

  Shrugging, I turned from him and glanced back at the office. “You coming in for coffee?” I asked. There were still far too many questions I needed answered, and I wasn’t going to get them while standing here under the flickering street lights.

  “So I’m not a persona non grata yet?” He climbed off the bike and glanced around the street.

  “Push it around the side,” I said. “I’m the only one who uses the alley.” I purposely left out the part about the alley being a portal to the Between. No one else could use it because it was spelled to deliberately turn people away unless I wanted them to find it.

  “What, no magical charm to ward it?” He raised an eyebrow in surprise.

  “Do I look like a leprechaun?”

  Byron let his gaze rake over me, spreading heat through my body everywhere his eyes lingered. “Well, you’ve certainly got charms.”

  The snort escaped me before I could stop it. “Really? That’s what you’re going with? ‘I’ve got charms?’” I rolled my eyes so hard they practically tumbled out of my head. “Tell me, has that line ever worked on anyone with a brain?”

  “I don’t usually have to use the one-liners,” he said with an arrogant smirk that made me want to punch him.

  “What, they usually just trip over themselves falling into bed with you?”

  “They don’t trip into my bed, I carry them,” he said, his voice low and husky.

  I suddenly felt foolish. I�
�d walked straight into that one, and his tone sent a frisson of desire racing through me, warming me from the inside.

  “Well, I’d rather not be blessed with that honour, thanks.” I shrugged in an attempt to appear nonchalant but could tell from the darkening of Byron’s eyes that I was failing at it. “I’ll see you inside.” I turned on my heel and beat a hasty retreat back to the safety of the office. Here, I was queen, cool and in charge, and Byron definitely wasn’t going to get under my skin in my own turf. Even if he did have lips that begged to be kissed.

  “Get a grip, Darcey,” I growled under my breath as I pushed open the office door and stepped into bedlam.

  “Duck!” Samira screamed, but I’d already seen the projectile heading toward my face. Throwing my body forward, I rolled into a crouch as the obsidian dagger shattered against the reinforced wooden doorway.

  My own blades already in my hands, I grabbed the nearest assailant as he tried to smash my head with a hammer. Blocking his blow with my arm, I pushed up and back, using my body’s momentum to send him sprawling into one of the nearby bookcases.

  Something hard struck me between the shoulder blades, and I cried out as the iron bit into my skin. But I kept moving, twisting my body so the blade merely sliced at my back instead of getting buried between my shoulder blades.

  The assailant I had thrown into the bookcases hissed at me, and I found myself staring into the muddy brown eyes of a pixie, his hair a dark forest green that most people would mistake for dark brown. But pixies’ ears were the feature that really made them stand out—the pointed tips had inspired humans to believe that all faeries had them. Of course, the pixies could fold down the tips of their ears whenever they wanted, pinning them into place so as to go unnoticed.

  They were nasty creatures, fully fae yet not one of the fae that ruled Faerie. They were usually hired as assassins, light on their feet, small enough to blend in as children in the human realm, and dirty fighters who desired to win no matter the cost.

  He hissed again and then flung himself toward me with an obsidian hammer that resembled a sledge hammer. My angle was all wrong as I brought my blade up in a short upper-cut that only glanced off his armoured body. The hammer came down toward me as I tried to move out of the way. But I wasn’t fast enough—nobody was fast enough against the pixies.

  He was there one minute and on the floor the next, pinned to the ground by the huge silver and white wolf that had streaked over me. The wolf opened its huge jaws and, with one loud crunch, bit down on the pixie’s face and neck, completely severing his head from his small body.

  The other wounded assailant screamed in agony, and I turned to find her pinned against the wall like a grotesque insect by her own obsidian blades as she struggled to free herself. Mazik stood next to her, his eyes demon-dark as he licked blood from his fingers.

  “Samira!” I shouted hoarsely. When I started to move, the iron in the wound on my back burned enough to make me want to vomit.

  “I’m here, I’m fine,” she said, appearing from behind my desk with the kitten, who looked like she had been through the wars. Her orange fur was splattered with blood, and her intelligent green eyes stared at me smugly.

  “Fuzzikins saved me,” Samira said, staring down at the cat in surprise. “Almost got killed in the process.”

  Shaking my head, I sucked in a deep breath through my nose in an attempt to stop the room from spinning. I had been poisoned for the second time that night, and this time there would be no quick trip to the Noree for a cure. If I was lucky, the cut on my back would turn out to be nothing more than a scratch and I would eventually sweat the iron out of my system.

  “I thought we agreed we weren’t calling the cat Fuzzikins,” I said, pushing painfully up onto my feet.

  “You agreed, I didn’t,” she said, but her eyes held concern as she studied me the way a mother might fret over her child. “You’re hurt.” She placed the cat on the desk and moved toward me.

  “No, I’m fine,” I said, raising my hand to halt her movements.

  I heard a groan behind me, followed by a wave of scalding hot magic that washed over me, sending my breath out of my body in a loud whoosh as I gritted my teeth against the pain. I turned to find Byron crouched over the shredded remains of the pixie he had decapitated. His tan skin was streaked with pixie blood, and one side of his face was smeared in crimson as though he had rolled it in the blood.

  His eyes met mine. They were still amber, his wolf lurking barely beneath the surface.

  “You’re hurt badly, I can smell it from here,” he said, pushing up onto his feet. I realized then that he was naked. Utterly and completely, every impressive inch of his body exposed…And while I liked the view, it dawned on me that he was standing in front of the office’s wide picture window, visible to everyone who passed on the street.

  Crossing to the window, I grabbed the beaded strings of the venetian blind, sending it cascading down across the clear glass with a loud zip.

  “We’ve got more important business to attend to,” I said, returning my attention to the still-struggling pixie pinned to the wall and deliberately ignoring the naked alpha in the middle of the room.

  He growled low beneath his breath, which did nothing to quell my rapid heartbeat. “Do you have a towel I can borrow?” he asked.

  “I’ll get it!” Samira said, her voice high and breathy. I turned my head and caught sight of her face, her cheeks so vibrantly red she could have lit up the room all by herself. Her attraction to Byron didn’t surprise me in the least—wolves had that effect on those around them. Hell, a normal ranking pack member could make even a monk want to sin, but alphas could make anyone fall in love with them. I was going to have to have a word with Byron and ask him to tone down the sexy around Samira. Could he do that? It wasn’t like it was a switch he could flip on and off at will. At least I was pretty sure it wasn’t.

  I waited for Samira to return with the oversized towel I kept in the bathroom. Byron nodded his thanks with a thin-lipped smile before wrapping it around his waist.

  “Who sent you?” I asked, addressing the pixie who had ceased her struggles and was now merely hanging from the wall, her eyes closed as though trying to feign a faint.

  She didn’t answer, but the telltale twist at the corners of her lips told me she’d heard the question.

  “Don’t make me ask again, pixie scum, or I’ll let the wolf tear you apart like he did your partner,” I said, deliberately goading her. The moment the words left my mouth, she let out a frustrated scream and resumed her fight against her own blades.

  Mazik grabbed the hilt of the blade nearest him and twisted it so the sound of the blade crunching against her bone filled the air. She screamed again, and when Mazik leaned in and lapped at the blood oozing from the wound her eyes widened in fear.

  “What are you?” she asked, her voice quivering.

  “This and that,” he said, the words sounding clipped with his London accent. He rolled his eyes up to meet hers as his tongue flickered against the edges of the wound like a snake.

  “Demon,” she said, this time with genuine fear.

  “Bullseye,” he said, probing harder with his tongue as she moaned in terror.

  I watched their little exchange play out, allowing Mazik to employ his tactics. I’d never seen him work before, and while it wasn’t strictly to my taste, I knew the power of fear. There had been a time when others had feared me, and it had given me a thrill like nothing else on earth.

  “You’re welcome to the other body,” I said, using Mazik’s tactics.

  “And this one?” he asked, eyeing me. The darkness in him was all-consuming, and nothing of the man I knew remained in his gaze.

  “If she can’t give me what I want, then you can have her too,” I said. The fae couldn’t lie, and yet the words tripped off my tongue. The moment they left my mouth, I paused. Had it been a lie? Deep down, I knew it wasn’t. But I also knew I wouldn’t let Mazik take a live victim, and yet I had
told him he could. Was whatever Mannan had done to me actually affecting me?

  “I can’t tell you who sent me,” she said in a panic. When I glanced at her, I saw that her muddy brown eyes were filled with terror.

  “I guess she’s all yours, Mazik,” I said.

  “No…” She howled the word, a truly pitiful sound. “He will eat me while my heart still beats.”

  Shrugging, I started to turn away. Byron’s face was an unreadable mask, but something in his gaze made me feel as though he was judging me.

  “You tried to kill me,” I said, “and this is the price paid by those who attempt such things.” Even though I spoke to the pixie, I kept my gaze locked on Byron. Part of me, whether intentional or not, was definitely warning him to take his misplaced judgment elsewhere.

  “I cannot tell you who it was because I did not meet them,” she said, the words coming in a rush. “We were hired through channels the fae sometimes take when they wish to keep their identities a secret. I swear, it’s the truth. You know I cannot lie!”

  “How many of you are there?” I asked, keeping my tone deliberately dispassionate.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Make sure no one sees you taking her,” I said to Mazik.

  “Six that I know of, and we were sent to stop you at all costs,” she said.

  “Stop me from doing what?” I turned to face her. The raw fear in her eyes told me we had broken her.

  “They didn’t say, just that we were to stop you at all costs…” She paused and closed her eyes in pain before opening them once more and meeting my gaze head-on. “This was the first order, but there is a second on your head. It did not come through the usual channels. The one we call Fargin said we could collect twice on the bounty if we brought you down before the second wave had their shot.”

  “Who is Fargin?” I asked, but she shook her head. Black foam frothed from her lips.

  “I said too much,” she whispered as her small body twisted in agony. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and blood ran from her eyes instead of tears.