He stopped in front of Josephina and pinched a lock of her hair between his blood-splattered fingers. “Did you miss me, little flower?” he asked, warm breath fanning over her face.
“Not even a bit,” she replied truthfully. “If you want the brutal truth of the matter, it was my hope we’d never see each other again.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, a testament of his anger. First point, Servant Josephina. “Give yourself to me, and the king will no longer use you as Synda’s substitute.”
I’d rather die—obviously. “Even if that were true, which it’s not, my answer would be the same—never. Does that work for you?”
His lashes fused together, leaving only tiny slits. “Why don’t you want me? I’m desirable.”
Where to begin? Oh, yeah. “You’re my brother.”
“Only by blood.”
Was that all? “Well, you disgust me. How about that?”
He leaned in. “I would be good to you. Very, very good.”
She stiffened, gritting out, “Stop. I’m not interested.”
“Just give me a chance.”
Josephina turned her head away. Her body ached in the worst way. Her mind was foggy from hunger. She couldn’t deal with him right now.
He took her chin in a firm grip and returned her attention to him. “I could force you. You know that, don’t you?”
If he’d wanted her that way, he would have taken her years ago.
She remembered the first day they’d come into contact outside the throne room. She’d been walking through the royal garden, plucking the prettiest of the flowers for her mother. Back then, her mother had been the king’s favored concubine and Josephina had been free to do as she pleased—when she wasn’t being punished for Synda’s crimes, of course.
Yes, the king had used her that way even then, despite her mother’s protests.
Leopold had just achieved his immortality, never to physically age again, and he had been celebrating in the garden with two female slaves. Josephina had stumbled upon the group, seen them doing things that still made her blush; he’d heard her startled gasp and looked up. She’d backed away, afraid he would tell his mother she was a spy, and the queen would have her whipped. Again.
But Leopold had smiled, commanded Josephina to stay where she was, then righted his clothing and sent the females on their way. He’d gently teased her about her blush, picked up the flowers she’d dropped and gallantly presented them to her, as if she were an Eligible and worthy of his attention.
For the next few years, he’d met with her often, purposely, talking with her, laughing with her, and for the first time in her life, Josephina had felt a kinship with someone other than her mother.
But the day Josephina had achieved her own immortality, though so much more fragile than those of full blood, the focus of Leopold’s attention had changed. He’d gone from brotherly to amorous, charming to persistent, and had even tried to kiss her. At the time, she’d run away from him.
He’d been chasing her ever since.
Things had never been the same between them, and never would.
“You won’t,” she said, confident.
The prisoner across from her snickered over her continued rejection.
Leopold’s cheeks reddened the slightest degree. He released her and stomped over to the offender. Rather than rain his fists in a fury of punishment, he tilted his head to the side and said, “Agony.”
The man screamed in sudden anguish, his entire body shaking. Blood soon leaked from his eyes, his nose, and the corners of his mouth.
“Stop!” Josephina cried. “Stop it, Leopold! Please.”
He did. When the man was dead.
Bile burned her chest, and collected in her throat.
Leopold spun to eye every male in chains. “Anyone else have anything to say?”
Only the rattle of chains could be heard.
The scowling prince locked gazes with Josephina, spit on the ground at her feet. “It’s only a matter of time before Princess Synda commits another crime. You’ll be whipped in her place. Or worse. Let me protect you.”
“Even if you could save me, I’d never consider you the better choice,” she replied raggedly.
“We’ll see about that. I leave to capture the men hunting you. One of the imperial guards will be in charge of your care. I doubt he’ll be as gentle.” With that, he stalked from the dungeon.
A bitter laugh escaped her. Kane had wondered why she wanted to die. Kane had wanted to know what he could do to help her. Well, here was why. And clearly, there was nothing he could do. Just as she’d known.
There was nothing anyone could do.
But I can help him, she thought. She could use the second ability she possessed and warn Kane about the tracker the guards had placed in his equipment. That way, when they found him, he wouldn’t be caught unaware. He could fight. And he could win. Or run.
It was the least she could do, and had nothing to do with the fact that she wanted to see him again. Really.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Texas
The Teaze
ROCK MUSIC POUNDED through the nightclub, shaking the floor, rattling the walls. Strobe lights flashed all the colors of the rainbow and spun, creating a dizzying kaleidoscope that somehow lowered inhibitions. Immortal men and women flailed on the dance floor, walked the aisles in search of fresh prey, or sat at the tables, flirting in between throwing back shots of the beauty maker.
The world might be ugly before you drank a glass of ambrosia-laced whiskey, but it sure was beautiful afterwards. At least for a little while.
Kane wanted to leave, memories of the last time he’d been inside a nightclub playing through his mind, sickening him, but he’d texted Torin for information about Tinker Bell, and for some reason, the warrior had sent him here.
As usual, William was off trolling for women.
Kane pushed a vampire out of the chair he wanted, and claimed a place at the bar. The guy didn’t protest, just took one look at him and rushed away. Kane ordered a shot of the beauty maker. Anything to dull his riotous emotions.
Where was Tinker Bell?
Was she okay? Safe?
She no longer had custody of Disaster—if that’s what had happened, and he suspected it was. There was no other explanation. The demon had come roaring back to Kane a few hours after he’d left the forest. He’d been disappointed for himself, but relieved for her. He didn’t like the thought of such a delicate half immortal going against such evil.
But at least he had an answer to one of his questions now. The Greeks had indeed lied. The demon wasn’t as much a part of him as his lungs and his heart. Kane couldn’t survive a single moment without the organs, but he could survive a few hours without Disaster. Maybe more.
Hate you, Disaster growled.
Assure you, the feeling’s mutual.
One of the legs on his chair snapped, and he nearly hit the floor. He brutally kicked the broken stool out of the way, and decided to stand.
“About time you got here,” a female said.
His gaze snapped to the left, where a tall, lithe blonde stood. She was exquisite, with long hair that tumbled to a perfectly curved waist and snow-white skin covered in makeup to mute its luminous power. Blue eyes held his stare without wavering or fear.
She’s mine, Disaster shouted. All mine.
Kane ground his molars together. Just how many “mines” were they supposed to have?
“Taliyah Skyhawk,” he acknowledged. She was Sabin and Strider’s sister-in-law, as well as a Harpy known for her cold-as-ice demeanor. “You knew I was coming?”
“Torin gave me a heads-up.”
His focus sharpened on her. Well, okay, then. “You got info for me?”
She motioned to the bartender, and waited, silent, for a bottle of vodka to be slid in front of her, as if Kane weren’t suddenly vibrating with impatience. “This belongs to him,” she said, hitching her thumb in his direction.
Knowing Harpies couldn’t
eat or drink anything without stealing or earning it, he threw a few bills on the counter without complaint. “Anytime would be great, Tal.”
She drank straight from the bottle, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and faced him, her expression impassive. “There’s a Phoenix chasing your Fae. Her name’s Petra, and she’s a vicious little troll.”
Not exactly a news flash. “So, how did you know that?”
“You remember when my friend Neeka the Unwanted was given to the Phoenix, even though she’s a Harpy, to save my sister? Well, little Neeka keeps getting stolen from different clans—everyone wants a piece of her, which is so wonderfully ironic, considering her name. She gets bored between travels and spies for me. I knew the stuff about Petra would be important to you because my sisters told me about your encounter with the Fae.”
Sabin and Strider were such pansy blabbermouths.
“Anyway,” Taliyah continued. “The rest of the information is going to cost you.”
He arched a brow, saying, “How much?” Whatever the price, he’d pay it.
“I want the fortress in the Realm of Blood and Shadows.”
A thirty-thousand-square-foot monstrosity for a few words? A fair exchange, in his opinion. He wasn’t sure his friends would agree. “There’s a problem. The place isn’t mine to give.”
Taliyah drained the rest of the bottle with a grace matched by few. “Too bad. It would have been nice doing business with you, Kane. See you.” She walked away from him without another word.
Coldhearted. As always.
Kane leaped into action, dragging her back to the bar—and she let him. She had more at stake than she wanted him to believe, then. “It’s yours,” he said to her. “The fortress is yours. When do you want it?”
Winter-blue eyes sparkled triumphantly. “Three months and two days from now. No sooner, no later.”
“Fine. I’ll kick my friends out myself.”
“Even my sisters?”
“No,” he said, thinking that was what she’d want to hear. “They can—”
“Deal’s off. Sorry.” Once again she walked away, and once again he had to drag her back.
“Fine,” he rushed out. “I’ll kick them out, too.” They’d want to stay with their husbands, anyway.
She nodded, satisfied.
“Why can’t you stay there with everyone else?” he grumbled. She had before.
“You’re not going to tell anyone I’m there. You do, and I’ll hunt you down. Immortal races will be talking about the things I did to your entrails for centuries.”
Harpies, man. They actually had the strength and stomach to back up their threats, and that was a serious downer when the women weren’t on your side. “What do you need the fortress for?”
“None of your business. Now, do you want the information I’ve got or not?”
“I do.”
“Okay, so, apparently, a Sent One—Thane, I think his name is—suddenly appeared in one of the Phoenix camps a few weeks ago. He threw a big fit, and killed lots of the warriors. One of them was the king. The Sent One was eventually subdued, and a new king took the throne. This new king was finally able to claim the woman he’s been craving for centuries—the dead king’s wife.”
“What’s this got to do with anything?”
“I’m getting there. The new king took the widow as his concubine, but only a few days later, this Petra girl killed her. As punishment, she was cast into the Never-ending. And now that Petra’s on the loose, the new king wants her back. Like, bad. The things he’ll do to her when he finds her...it’s going to be legend—wait for it—dary. Oh, and the concubine was Petra’s sister. Meaning, there’s no line this troll won’t cross. If your Fae is on her radar, she’s in trouble.”
He would get to her first.
The glass shattered in his hand, cutting his skin.
Stupid demon.
He dabbed at the wounds with a napkin.
He waited, but Taliyah said nothing more. “That’s all you have for me?”
“As if Neeka is that poor of a spy. I was just waiting for you to digest. So get this. Petra was seen buying a key to Séduire.”
Séduire. The kingdom of the Fae, though many humans lived there, located in a realm between realms. Some immortals could flash there, moving from one space to another with only a thought. Most could not. Kane was among the could-nots, so, for people like him, a special key was needed to open one of the invisible doorways.
“If this Petra is following Tinker Bell’s scent, and she bought a key, Tinker Bell must have returned to Séduire,” Kane said, thinking out loud. Finally, he had a location.
“Tinker Bell?”
Disaster growled.
William scooted into the seat beside him, saving him from having to answer. The warrior was without his usual random woman (or six) and scowling. “What are you doing here, Ice Witch, and how did you find us? We’re on a boys-only vacay.”
Taliyah rolled her eyes. “I just answered those questions for Kane and won’t do it again for the likes of you. And what a way to say hello, Man Whore.”
So. The two hated each other now. Interesting.
William looked at him, and Kane could see the excitement banked in his eyes. “You’re just going to let her talk to me like that? I should pack my bags and leave you.”
“I should be so lucky.” Kane signaled for another whiskey. The glass shattered as he downed the liquid inside it, and he choked on a shard. Coughing blood, he stood. “I’ve got to find a key. Don’t call me if you need me.”
What are you doing? Disaster demanded. Don’t leave the Harpy. She’s mine. I want her.
Taliyah reached out and grabbed his wrist. He...felt no pain, he realized, and no desire, either. Apparently no one’s touch affected him like Tinker Bell’s. “Remember what I told you.”
Yeah. He remembered. No one could know she wanted the fortress.
“What did you tell him?” William demanded. “You might as well confess. I’ll just bug the answer out of him if you don’t.”
Kane rolled his eyes, knowing he’d be dodging William’s annoying prods for weeks, but walked away before the Harpy could respond and never looked back.
* * *
THE MOMENT HE was outside, Kane whipped out his cell phone. Yesterday, he’d taken a snapshot of Danika’s painting and saved the image as wallpaper.
In it, he was on his knees, tears streaming down his face, hands lifted toward the heavens. A blonde female lay in front of him, a hole the size of his fist burned into her chest. Her face was turned away from him, so he had no idea who she was—and wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
The painting was a problem that would have to wait.
He called every black market contact he had, looking to buy a key to Séduire. He would also need a guide, since he had no idea where to find a doorway. But one call after another proved unfruitful. No one was able to help him.
A sense of urgency drove him, and he paced toward the darkened alleys about a mile from the club. There, immortals would be peddling their wares. Drugs. Sex. Anything and everything. Even if he couldn’t find a key, he could find someone who knew someone else with the contacts to help him.
A thick white fog suddenly rolled in, and he paused. Through the density, he could just make out the shape of a...woman? Oh, yes, definitely a woman. She glided toward him, and he could see she was wearing a glowing white dress. Long, dark hair fell over one delicate shoulder, reminding him of...
“Tinker Bell?” he asked, shocked to his core.
Disaster banged against his skull.
Kane raced to her, tried to grab her despite the pain it might cause him, the unwanted desire, and whatever she’d done to him in the forest, but his hands ghosted through her.
Her eyes were as white as the fog and as luminous as the most expensive diamonds. “Would you please stop calling me that?” she said, exasperated. As freaky as she looked, the normalcy of her voice surprised him.
�
�What’s going on? Are you...dead?” Even uttering the question made him want to kill someone.
“I’m not dead. I’m simply projecting my image into your mind.”
Relief was like a gentle rain, dousing the budding rage—and the overwhelming sorrow he didn’t want to explore. “Exactly how many abilities do you possess, woman? And what exactly did you do to me in that forest?”
“There’s no time for that. I’m weakening, and must hurry.”
Weakening? In a snap, the rage returned. “Why?”
“Doesn’t matter. Listen, Lord Kane. I know I’m not your favorite person right now, and you probably don’t trust me, but please believe me when I say you’re in grave danger.”
Him. Not her. Better. “More danger than usual? And don’t call me Lord Kane. I don’t need a title.” Not from her. “I’m just a man.” Your man.
The thought hit him with the force of a tsunami, and he fisted his hands. His body was suddenly rock-hard, ready to prove the claim, to strip her and take her as he’d longed to do in the forest. A temptation he found as exhilarating as it was frightening.
Can’t touch her.
But if he could...
What would she do? How would she react?
How would he?
Would her skin be as soft as it appeared? Would her curves create the perfect cradle for him?
A few feet away, the lid to a trash bin flew open. As the wind picked up, debris propelled toward Kane, most assuredly courtesy of Disaster.
Tinker Bell stomped her foot. “I can’t concentrate when you look at me like that,” she said.
“Like what?”
“Like I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like you want to strangle me or something.”
Or just wanted to get his hands on her. But he got what she was saying, knew his desire was tangled with darkness.
He nodded, ashamed of himself. “I’ll stop.”
She licked her lips, and said, “My people know you’re looking for me, and now they’re hunting you.”
“Your Fae family or your human one?”
“Fae.”
“And that’s who you’re with right now?” he asked, wanting to verify the information Taliyah had given him.
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