by Luna Quinn
Decision made, he sent her a text.
Possible break in case. How long before you can be ready?
There was a reply almost instantly.
I’ll meet you at the Night House. 15 mins.
Not wasting time, he tossed his phone on the couch and quickly got dressed. He threw on a black T-shirt and dark green vintage army canvas pants with several straps and buckles for his blades, gun, and ammo. Lastly, he put on his brown leather chest harness, cursing when he discovered his rifle was missing. The image of the last place he’d cleaned it popped into this mind.
Great. It was back at his house.
Pulling on his steel-toed boots, he laced them up and decided he’d make a pit stop at home before heading to Two. No fucking way would he go anywhere without his favorite weapon.
Dressed and packing some serious heat, Razor left his room.
After collecting his motorcycle from the underground parking, he pulled up to the curb in front of the Night House. It took only five minutes of waiting before Sasha was walking up to his bike. He was surprised to see she wasn’t in her usual oversized hoodie. He took a moment to admire her beauty and the fearless vibe she always exuded.
Tonight she wore snug black pants, a tank top, and a brown leather vest thing with straps running down across her ribcage and around her waist. The ones around her waist had small buckles which Razor suddenly yearned to pull apart. He licked his lips. All that was hot, but it certainly wasn’t what had made his dick twitch at the first sight of her. No, it had been the array of blades strapped to the leather cupping her breasts so lovingly.
Fuck him, she was his every wet dream as she strolled over to him. And in that moment, he was certain that the universe had never created someone as lovely, or as fierce, as his Sasha.
“What’s going on?” she asked as she accepted the helmet he handed her. She wore fingerless gloves made of chainmail and some kind of stretchy fabric.
“I just got an anonymous lead. Put that on. We’re going to Two.”
She nodded and climbed on behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Razor paused. There was something different about her, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. There was an air, an energy, about her. Something light and…vibrant, maybe?
Shrugging away his thoughts, he decided she was probably just excited about the lead. He took a moment as he turned on his bike to just absorb the heat of her body. The feeling of her pressed against him, alive and warm, and now slightly electric, chased away the remnants of the nightmare from his mind. Calm washed over him.
Razor suspected that the feeling of having Sasha riding with him could never get old.
“If this lead is right, we’ll most likely be staying for a while,” he said.
A pause. “That bad?”
Yeah, he thought, that bad. But he didn’t say that out loud, because he was hoping the anonymous tip didn’t mean what he thought it did.
“We’ll be meeting Bek and Aleks there. I’ve already sent them the details. But first I have to make a quick stop.”
Fifteen minutes later, Razor stopped, lowering his feet to the ground to keep his bike balanced. He switched off the engine as Sasha shifted behind him, then climbed off. She turned in a circle, looking around the section of One not many people made it to.
“Where are we?” she asked, after she’d taken off her helmet.
He was a little nervous about how she’d react to him bringing her here. Aside from his brothers, Razor had never brought anyone to his home.
Climbing off the bike, Razor answered curtly. “Just follow me.”
Knowing what she’d see—abandoned industrial buildings, broken windows, No-Trespassing signs, and fences—he didn’t bother to explain further. He wasn’t too fond about where he’d had to make his home, but there’d really been no other choice.
With the constant attempts on their lives, Razor and his brothers had chosen well-hidden locations to set up homes. It was mostly why he kept all his bikes at the Night House. Bringing them here meant risking someone following him, or tracking his vehicles.
He’d taken that risk with Sasha just now, but he’d kept a watchful eye (and nose), and he was sure they hadn’t been followed. Sure, this entire chunk of One was under the Confusion Spell the Witch sisters had donated to them. The spell would make anyone who came too close stop two blocks away from his building, scratch their heads wondering what they were doing there, then turn around and go back the way they’d come. Even so, Razor wasn’t one to take any chances, and since magic wasn’t foolproof, he stayed cautious.
“What is this place? Are we still in One?” Sasha asked. The only way to get past the spell was to be escorted in by Razor or his brothers, which was why Sasha wasn’t turning on her heel and walking in the opposite direction right now.
He motioned for her to follow. They climbed over a fence, walking some more after that.
“How far are we going?”
“Not far.”
Another fence and then an alley.
“You’re not going to murder me, are you, Razor? I mean, I know I annoy you, but I’m sure murder is a little excessive, even for you. Don’t you think?”
Razor glanced over his shoulder, looking her over curiously. Was she teasing him again?
He smirked at her, feeling less nervous and more playful. “Quit your whining, we’re almost there.”
“I have a weapon, and I’m not afraid to use it on bad dogs,” she said, her voice a little throatier. Amusement lit up her turquoise eyes.
So fucking beautiful. He forced himself to look forward again.
“I have a weapon, too. It’s in my pants. I’m not afraid to use it, either. Wanna see?” he replied, hoping he wasn’t pushing his luck.
She full-out laughed, a carefree, wonderful sound. Razor wanted to bathe in it, and make her do it again. That he had been the cause made his chest puff out.
“No, thanks,” she said. “I’m allergic to fleas, and those little fuckers are jumpers.”
He threw his best innocent look over his shoulder at her. “Aw, come on, it’s a pretty big weapon. I have a hard time handling it on my own sometimes.”
“Shut up and keep walking.” Her lips were full of mirth as she kicked his boot.
Razor laughed and winked.
She smiled saucily back.
His breath halted for a second when a spark of that sexually charged energy that burned between them flashed in her eyes. Goddess, what the hell was going on here? Was she drunk?
For a moment, he was unsure how to proceed. He had expected confrontational Sasha, maybe even giving-you-the-silent-treatment Sasha, but this playful and brazenly flirting Sasha…never. But, sweet Hellfire, he was fucking loving it. He never wanted it to end.
Space. She needs space, the voice in his brain reminded him.
Deciding it was best not to push her further, he simply smiled and continued walking, his building coming in sight. It was a two-story brick structure with beautiful, old-fashioned arched windows. A lot of the outside was falling apart, but that was only for appearances. Razor had reinforced the entire thing from the bottom up when he’d found it and fallen in love with the Old Earth architecture. He’d used mostly physical materials, but the House of Witches had sold him a spell that helped keep the outside bricks from coming down any more than they already had so it only looked like it was on the verge of crumbling.
Walking up to the front double doors that he had helped make, he slid the key in and unlocked the padlock, nerves from what Sasha would think of his home giving him butterfingers. He almost dropped the keys. Twice.
When he finally got the doors unlocked—which were made from metal forged in Hellfire, making them pretty much indestructible—he pushed them open. He ushered her in, then stepped in after her, shutting the doors behind them.
Sasha suddenly made a squealing noise. “Oh my Goddess, it’s a library.”
He chuckled and pocketed his keys. “Was,” he
corrected as he watched her take in the room with awe-filled eyes. “Unfortunately, not all the books were salvageable.”
Finding the books after he’d claimed the building as his home had been a nice surprise. It was too bad that he hardly had time to come down here and enjoy them.
“I think I’m love,” Sasha murmured and walked slowly through the shelves, touching and reading the spines of the mostly leather-bound books. “There’re so many classics and one-of-a-kinds.”
“Yeah. I’m sure the humans would have a field day if they ever found out about this place,” he said. His heated gaze tracked her, loving her presence in his space.
Razor hated to do this, but they needed to get his rifle and get to Two ASAP.
“Come on, you can look later. What I need is upstairs.”
She gave the books one last, longing look, then walked to where Razor was waiting at the foot of a wide set of stone stairs leading to the second level.
When their eyes met, his stomach did a little flutter. She had the cutest little sad face he’d ever seen. Razor wanted to kiss her and then give her every single book in this place and anything else she wanted.
He made the vow then, as he led her up the stairs, that once this was all over, even if they went their separate ways, he would make sure she had full access to his library.
At the double doors that hadn’t been part of the original structure, Razor smiled back at her. “This way.”
The second floor had also held books at one point, but years of neglect hadn’t been kind to this section. The broken windows had let in the elements, destroying the majority of the contents. He had closed off the area, stripping it and turning it into his living quarters.
Inside, Razor closed the door behind them, and watched as Sasha stepped farther in.
In the middle of the living room, she paused. Then looked over at him strangely. “This is your house?”
He nodded, feeling oddly self-conscious about his home. She watched him for a moment longer and then, like a curious little kitten, went about exploring her new surroundings.
Reluctantly, he left her to it and went in search of his rifle. Not like she would find many interesting things. His house was, simply put, minimalistic. The entire floor was one big open space, and the only enclosed places were the bathroom and a small weapons room. His bedroom was on a slightly elevated section off the living room, and a long wrought iron and cloth panel served as privacy.
Everything was either white, cream, or very light earth tones. The wood was a dark brown, and the only bright colors were in the painting of him and his brothers that hung behind the largest of the couches.
At the door to the weapons room, he entered the code on the touchscreen and walked to one of his gun safes. Unlocking that, too, he grabbed his baby. Razor then locked everything up again and strolled back out.
Sasha was standing by the bookshelf that had a few rows of books and a handful of knickknacks. From his spot, he could see half of her face. There was a small crease between her eyebrows.
“What?” he asked, giving in.
“I don’t know…” She peeked over at him, seeming to search for a word. “It’s not really you.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s just not what I expected,” she explained. “It doesn’t say Razor. You’re always so…alive. You have this presence about you that makes things seem small in comparison. You have a vitality about you, or well, not really when you’re around me. I think because I piss you off more than anything. At least, I used to…right?” She shook her head and ducked back to the shelf to continue her perusing. “Shit, I don’t know what I’m saying.”
Holy Hellfire, had she complimented him and then turned…shy on him? Sasha, shy? Could this day get any weirder?
Feeling more unbalanced than when she was being a brat, Razor really didn’t know how to react. Or how to respond. He was unsure where this talk was going, so when he came up with a response, he tried his best to keep his tone casual. “Um, thanks? So what did you expect?”
“I don’t know, but definitely not this.” She ran her finger over a small figurine of a wolf howling. “It just doesn’t reflect your personality.” Then more quietly, and almost to herself, though he heard her just fine, she added, “It should reflect the effect you have on people…and on me and my life.”
Maybe it was because he wasn’t accustomed to this side of Sasha, but he had the sudden urge to defend himself. Was she trying to say he was ruining her life?
He scowled. “I like my house the way I like my life—uncomplicated, neat, organized…predictable.” He directed the last right at Sasha.
Catching his meaning, she turned and her eyes narrowed. “Oh, really? Well your decor is boring me to death. And, newsflash, not everything in life falls in line with a snarl and a growl.”
“Well, of course not. Some are too stubborn to admit they like being under my control.”
They stared at each other for long seconds, both knowing they were no longer talking about his decorating skills.
Her eyes flared with heat. “Fine, you cocky asshole,” she conceded.
Razor crossed his arms, his lips twisting in a wry smile. “You certainly would know just how cocky I am.” He almost grinned when the way he emphasized the cock didn’t go unnoticed by her.
Tension radiated between them, the room now feeling way too small to contain their clashing personalities. Something was gonna give.
Then something did, and it lit up Sasha’s turquoise eyes, making them look like burning stars. Or devastating meteors about to hit and turn the world to chaos.
She was scary and gorgeous and he wanted her.
His Hellhound instinct went on instant alert. Eyes narrowed, he waited. It was her move.
Licking her bottom lip, calculation in every movement of her body, she began to run a finger over the stuff on the bookshelf, shifting things here and there. It made his hands itch to fix them.
“Some chaos isn’t always bad, you know,” she told him as if reading his thoughts. Before Razor could predict what she would do, she pushed the wolf figurine off the shelf. It crashed to the floor, breaking into hundreds of pieces.
A curse left his lips, and before he could stop himself, Razor was launching himself at her.
They crashed into the bookshelf, more things tumbling off the shelf and landing around them. He took most of the hits as he pinned her down, his body covering her from the falling objects. “What the hell is wrong with you? I invite you into my home and you break my fucking things?”
“Who’s fucking blind now?” Sasha was looking at him incredulously. “For such a smart man, you’re being awfully stupid right now.”
For the umpteenth time in the past hour, Razor hadn’t a clue what she meant. “I see how different you’re being today. What I don’t understand is what the fuck you’re trying to do. One minute you don’t want me, the next you’re giving me signs like you do. I, shit, Sasha…what the fuck?”
“Yes,” she said abruptly.
He bared his fangs, frustration making him snarl low. He yelled, “What? Yes, what? Are you speaking in fucking code?”
“Yes, I want you,” she yelled right back, “I…feel things for you, okay? Is that clear enough for you?”
That made him reel back a little. He blinked. What the hell? Her body, he finally noticed, had softened under his. She wasn’t fighting with him.
Razor studied her face, digesting her words.
She was serious.
Pulling back, he took up a crouch over her, still too wary to put too much distance between them. She sat up, her face tilted up to his.
She swallowed hard before speaking. “I, ah, can’t say that I want to jump into a full-blown relationship just yet, because I really don’t know how to do this…” She was looking directly into his eyes, and he could see the sincerity in them. “But I want to move past my issues, and yours, and see where this—” she gestured at the space between them— “c
ould lead.”
Heartbeats passed, but all he could do was stare at her. She was watching him, too. Eyes so big and bright and hopeful waiting for him to say something.
It was so surreal, it took several more seconds of him staring dumbly at her face for her words to sink in.
When they did, his chest filled with so much fucking joy that he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and pulling her face to his. “I can be patient, Sasha. I’ll wait as long as you need, and I’ll work on my issues. I’ll prove I’m worthy.”
He kissed her, and she kissed him back. If only for a few precious seconds.
She pulled back, smiling. “Let’s not make a big fuss, okay? Taking this slow is for the best. Maybe once we solve this case, we can explore it further.”
Razor’s cheeks hurt, he was grinning so wide. “Oh, I can do slow.”
She laughed and pushed him hard, making him lose his balance. They both laughed when he landed on his ass. “No celebratory sex, I’m afraid. Remember the lead, case, mission to Two? Any of that ringing any bells, Razor?”
He couldn’t care less about sex at that moment. All that mattered to him was that she had agreed to give them a chance. A chance was good enough, for now.
He drove his bike through one of the gateways designated for vehicles only and, seconds later, they were exiting onto a highway in Two.
Razor drove to a parking structure and left his bike there. They walked the rest of the way to where they would be meeting with the twins. Besides Razor filling Sasha in on what the text had said, they spoke very little as they strolled down the streets of Two. They were too alert for casual talk. People nodded at him as they passed a marketplace. Some faces were friendly, some wary, and others downright hostile.
The coordinates Bek had sent Razor put them three blocks from the address the anonymous tip had given.
Bek, in all his tall and blond glory, leaned against a black car. In his military-style leather jacket, gold buttons and all, and dark grey pants, Bek resembled something out of the old romance novels Razor’s library contained. He stood proud and sure, and could definitely pass for some Old Earth bigshot general if his hair had been in a different style than his Mohawk cut and long, complicated plait that ended at his mid-back.