Cora leaves down the hallway and up some stairs I hadn’t noticed on my way in, only to reappear a moment later wrapped in a little gray bathrobe that is really only sexy wrapping paper the way it falls to her mid-thigh, revving the engine on my imagination. Again. “I’ll walk you out.”
She’s completely unselfconscious as she waits for me to put my sweater back on, offering me a bottle of water for the road. Honestly? I kind of feel like slipping her my number for a do-over if she’s available.
“So… what happens if I want to see you again?” We’re at her front door, and cowards die a thousand deaths and all that.
Her shrug is nonchalant, noncommittal, but her eyes are sharp, warily intrigued. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”
“You don’t?” Maybe I misread…
“I mean, Lupines and Corvids run in the same circles. We’re bound to know some of the same people, so yeah. Seeing each other again is definitely a possibility.”
Her straight face has me wishing the floor would swallow me whole, right here, on the spot, so her evil grin a moment later is a bit of surprise.
“I’m sorry. I’m an asshole. I couldn’t help it. You’re being so prim, I just…” She giggles, clearly tickled with her little joke, even though my self-esteem is still staggering from the hit. “Lemme see your phone.”
She holds out her hand expectantly, and now that I’m paying attention, I can see how delicate her hands are, how delicate she is all over. She texts herself and gives it back with her hand on the doorknob. “It was interesting to meet you, Finn.”
The way she gives me another thorough onceover makes it hard to remember I have to leave. Especially when she says my name like that, all low and soft and sexy. “Likewise, Cora.”
I crowd in close as she throws back the locks, plural, as in more than two, which is concerning but not terrible for a woman living alone. Before she opens the door, she hooks a finger in my collar and yanks my mouth down to hers one last time. A hand over her head braced against the wall, I can’t help but run my free hand over those luscious curves hidden in that too-damn-soft, thin bathrobe. So good.
I love the way her breath catches when I touch her baby-soft skin, just above her knee and sweeping up under the robe, because it’s not like I have anywhere to be or anything, and damn, but she’s fine. The way her body rises into mine, arching like a wave to press against me with a moan as I nibble her jawline is what brings me to my senses. I hate having to do the responsible thing, but in a house where that type of action is somewhat limited, I have to do what I can.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper against her lips. They are so perfect and soft and suckable, and why can’t I just be a normal guy for another hour or so?
She hums, and I can still feel the heat of her hand on my neck as she leans against the wall away from me. “Me too.” We stare each other down a little longer before she smirks. “You should probably go because I don’t have the restraint to stop again.”
Her candor startles a laugh out of me, but hell yeah, I love a woman who knows what she wants. “Fair enough. ’Night, Cora.”
“’Night, Finn.”
* * *
CORA
The moment I open the door to the quiet night, I know something’s off. The kind of not-quite-right that has the adrenaline goosebumps spreading over my skin and my toes curling. I don’t know if the air smells wrong or sounds wrong or what, but when the random car engine starts down the block, I’m suddenly in motion.
I grab Finn’s arm, and when he would have yelled, I shove him inside and down to the floor, immediately putting myself and the ballistically reinforced door between him and the hail of bullets incoming. I hear the glass in my guest room and kitchen windows exploding, and I know my flowers are going to be in a shambles, but we’re safe for the moment so long as they don’t try to breach the house. This isn’t something I signed up for, but regicide in my ground floor hallway is frowned upon in this establishment, and I won’t allow it.
The moment the firing stops, I shove my hand in the umbrella stand and come up with my weapon, a compact 1911 .45 caliber kept for just such occasions.
“Stay down, Highness,” is all I tell him as I throw open the door long enough to slip outside. There’s a dark colored pickup truck parked next to Finn’s now bullet-riddled car, and it guns the engine the moment I make an appearance and starts to peel out.
I don’t even have to think about it and open fire, walking and firing as I make my way out to the street. I know from the way the glass explodes I scored at least a couple hits, but I don’t know much beyond that. As it is, I need to go make a phone call. And have a conversation I’d have just as soon gone without.
Finn’s not on the floor when I get back inside, causing another spike of adrenaline as I make my way further into the house, gun in hand. I’m out of ammo, but I can make it work if I need to.
“All clear out front. You okay?” I call out because if that was a distraction, I will kick my own ass.
“Who are you?” His slightly tremulous voice is coming from the floor in front of my rolltop desk where I find him holding one of my sturdy, wrought iron bookends. His blue eyes are wide with fear, and he’s folded his tall frame into a tight ball with his arms around his knees and his head back against the desk.
My skin feels hot as the shift begins to come over me, my fingers becoming claws and the feathers I keep hidden from view making a brief appearance, as his eyes widen. It’s gone before it really kicks in, thankfully, due to rigorous training, but I kept the talons just in case I have to fight hand to hand. One thing Corvids are known for, besides a clear lack of fucks, is our ability to defend our territory. Whoever’s out there picked the wrong one today.
Blowing out a deep breath, I look down at myself, naked under my damn bathrobe, with an empty magazine weighing down my thin pocket, the hottest bachelor in the kingdom on my floor and under my protection for the moment. I’d be amused if this weren’t such a messed-up situation. Going over to the couch, I lift one of the cushions and pull out two fully-loaded magazines for my pistol and slap one in, chambering a round before putting the other in my pocket. “Funny story, Your Highness. My name is Coretta Westgate, and those men were here to kill you on behalf of your brother.”
* * *
BRENDAN
“It’s done?” The silence that met him on the other end of the phone line had him pulling the slim pre-paid phone away from his face to check the connection.
“There were… complications.” In the background was some sort of melee. Screams of pain, numerous voices shouting, car doors slamming. It was impossible to discern the circumstances, but complications were not what he paid for.
“I see.” Taking a deep breath, he pinched his nose and looked out the window as several figures in gray suits poured out of the guard house into a line of idling Range Rovers. “Your contract is terminated. I’ll be in touch to settle up the balance owed to you.”
He closed the phone, hanging up before the other man had a chance to respond. If he crushed the phone and left tiny bits of electronic detritus in his trash, that was no one’s business. Just as well, considering the wrath flowing through him had the air tasting like copper pennies and smelling like ozone as he fought his body’s desire to shift. There would be time for that soon enough.
“I have to go out,” he informed his aunt as she relaxed in front of the fireplace with her late night book and cup of tea. “I won’t be long.”
“Be safe, my dear.” She didn’t even look up from her reading.
Into the darkness he wandered, unnoticed, unhindered, naked as his black fur melted into the night. He had some things to attend to before the guards returned, and it was just as well they were otherwise occupied.
In his head, he could hear her say, “That’s what you get for sending a jackal to do a wolf’s job.” A mistake that would be corrected directly.
Chapter One
FINN
“Funny st
ory, Your Highness. My name is Coretta Westgate, and those men were here to kill you on behalf of your brother.”
Those were certainly words, but damn, if he could figure out what they meant. She may as well have been speaking Greek. “Are you saying my brother—?” He had to stand, and when he did, his knees immediately betrayed him by going all squishy and that was not okay.
“It’s alright. I gotcha.” Cora’s right there, though, this woman, this goddess, this super spy? She held him up with an arm around his waist like it’s whatever, like she’s not mostly naked in her living room and he’d recently gone down on her. “...your retinue?”
Words started making sense again all at once, but not in time to catch her whole question. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Your people, your personal guards, where are they? We need them here. Now.” Suddenly she’s handing out orders like a seasoned field commander. “Are they close?”
As much as he didn’t want to, he admitted to the truth right away. “I… kinda left without them.” He just wanted one night, was that so wrong?
Her dark eyes shimmered with gold for a moment as she squinted up at him, disbelief writ clear across her features, right down to a fairly twitchy left eye. “Okay,” she breathed out deeply, rubbing her fingers against the bridge of her nose. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. I gotta make some calls, so I need you...” She pushed him onto the couch and shoved her half-empty bottle of water into his hands. “Right here. Drink.”
He wasn’t proud of how his hands shook opening the bottle but apparently, she liked what she saw because she turned away to open up the desk and scribbled something on a piece of paper.
“You’re going to call your retinue. Get them here, now, and tell them there was an attempt on your life at your girlfriend’s house but leave off the part about the who.” She pressed the paper into his hands before stalking over to a table in the entry foyer and pulling open a drawer. Cell phone in hand, she turned to head upstairs. “I’ll be right back. Don’t answer the door for anyone.”
Girlfriend? What? Hearing the sureness of her voice, as well as the confidence of her movements, even in as few clothes was jarring. And this was a lot to take in, like a lot, a lot. “Wait—what? Where are you going?”
If she noticed how hyped up he was, she didn’t mention it as she paused on the stairs. “This situation is going to get weirder before it gets better, and that’s gonna require actual clothes. I’ll be right back.” And so maybe he took one last long look at her beautiful, mostly naked form as he dug in his pocket for his phone, it’s between him and the gods, and they were not speaking at the moment.
And so there he sat, alone in her living room that still smelled like sex and gunfire and holy fuckshit. Her words played over and over in his head like some kind of weird, warped loop. Why would Brendan want to kill him? How does she know all this? What’s the play here?
She was upstairs for a moment, and he could hear her talking to someone, maybe yelling, so he sent a text to the Commander of his personal guard, the man who would flay him alive for this little stunt as soon as he got home. Needless to say, texting Vasily Brețcu was probably not the highest on the list of bad things so far this evening, but likely a strong contender for the top three.
“...you know what? Do better, or the next time I get shot at because of you, you will be dead because of me. Your anonymity is luxury I allow. Don't test me.” The way Cora pounded down the stairs only underscored how pissed off she was at whomever she’s talking to. He might feel bad, except that he was the whole reason she got shot at. Apparently.
Goddamn, but she was glorious. Gone was the sexy, soft bathrobe and sweet face, and in their place, a very proper sleeveless gray dress that buttoned down the front and clung in all the right places, holy gods. It stopped at the knees, showing off her gorgeous legs and delicate-looking heels. She was a vision in prim and proper and damn if he didn’t want to mess all that up right now. He knew it wasn’t the time, dammit, but he still wanted to.
Stalking over to the TV cabinet, she reached behind it and pulled out another pistol and chambered a round before rucking up the skirt of her dress to secure it to a holster on her thigh. When she smoothed the skirt down again with no discernable bulge, he had the most inappropriate erection since that time in eighth grade with Meghan Karwoski in math class.
“‘What am I gonna do?’” she asked as she wedged the phone against her jaw and tied up her hair in a very proper bun that showed off her beautiful neck. “I’m gonna unfuck this, because that’s what you pay me for, and when this is over you and I are going to have a conversation. Face to face.” Snarl on her lips, she turned to him and her face… softened, for lack of a better word. She went from razor sharp ice queen to Cora, the girl he met over a game of pool at Calumny. “We’ll speak soon.”
The so-very-proper way she perched on the couch next to him made him smile, despite the situation. “You good?”
“Yeah.” His phone lit up for the eleventh time in three minutes, with Vasi becoming increasingly irate as the messages went on. Yeah, he’s his best friend, but damn, this was excessive. “My Watch Commander’s en route and is likely laying waste to every single traffic law between Westie and here.”
The shifter palace was on an acreage not far from West Roxbury that had been in the family since before the US was a country. Hell, they predated the colonies.
“As he should.” She nodded, not looking at him while she put on a shade of lipstick that had clearly been made from the blood of her enemies. “Not that I minded spending time,” she grinned when she said it, “but all things considered, this was dangerous as hell.”
As much as he knew he didn’t have to justify himself to her, he thought she’d get it. “I just needed… I needed to get away. Get some room to breathe, ya know? Life at the palace, it’s pretty intense most of the time and even though I’m not next in line to the throne, I still have a lot of expectations of me.”
The wail of police sirens cut through the background noise of the night and grew louder as they approached.
“Sometimes it’s hard to be the responsible one.” Her gentle smile was surprisingly comforting. Cora rose to her feet and brushed an imaginary wrinkle out of her skirt the moment car doors start to slam outside. “Girlfriend, right?”
“Yeah.” The fact she seemed to know what she was doing was the only reason he hadn’t pushed back yet. He still had a lot of questions, but he wasn’t dumb enough to think now’s the time.
“Alright then.” The pops in her neck were audible across the room as she tilted her head then rolled her shoulders, waiting for the knocks that came a moment later. “It’s showtime.”
Chapter Two
CORA
In the decades since the shifters revealed themselves to the human populations, numerous treaties had been negotiated between the kingdom and the world outside the protection of the palace. Most shifters opted to live among them, but that made for some interesting legal difficulties.
One of which that was absolutely inviolable, though, was all incidents concerning matters of the crown were the purview of the Royal Guards. No half measures, absolutely no exceptions.
Dealing with the human cops had been a breeze compared to dealing with Commander Vasily Brețcu, head of the Night Watch for the royal house of Lupine. The moment the Strigine rolled up on the scene with his crew of tastefully dressed minions, the cops ceded jurisdiction almost instantly. Their fearful expressions were politely ignored but noted. Vasi, as Finn called him, had a rightfully earned reputation as a dangerous, scary dude. ‘Eyes in the back of his head’ wasn’t a metaphor when you’re an owl.
Head and shoulders taller than her, he would look right at home on one of those firefighter calendars she pretended not to buy. With his silver-streaked dark hair in a bun at the base of his skull and in his flawless black on black suit draped expertly over the body of a minor deity, he looked like he’d just as soon bite everyone in the room as look at them.
The ability to engender that level of wordless terror was the mark of someone damn good at their job.
The intel that came with the job indicated he may be a good ally eventually, but the client was still vetting him. Son of Romanian immigrants, he had been Force Recon with the Marine Corps before coming to work at the palace. He was fastidious, smart, and going to be a damn nuisance to keep ahead of if she planned to remain hidden in plain sight. Fortunately, this was something she’d trained for as well.
With a flick of his wrist to dispatch his cadre of agents throughout my safe house-disguised-as-a-townhouse, he glided right up to Finn, giving me a passing glance that would strip bark from a tree. “Highness, a word.”
That Finn moved to place himself between the two of them spoke well of him, though it was unnecessary. The day she couldn’t take an owl was the day she turned in her wings. Eh, okay, maybe not take him, but she’d certainly take great pleasure in fucking up his pretty face if it came down to it.
When Finn pulled her to his side with his arm around her waist, it was all she could do to suppress the shiver down her spine. It’s not fair how attractive he is, and I still have a job to do. “Go,” she whispered as she turned her face to his chest. Playing the coquette was the easiest course of action right now. Vacuous party-girls got little in the way of second glances. “Talk to him, I’m not going anywhere.”
She could feel the brush of his lips against her head and a quick squeeze before he stepped away to talk with his personal Guard by the French doors to the backyard, and she busied herself tending to her lipstick and makeup while watching his crew root through her abode. She was pretty confident that anything truly incriminating was either out of the house or well-hidden. It wasn’t like they’d brought in ground-penetrating radar to look through the walls. Then maybe she’d start to sweat, but for the moment, she was cool.
A pale-skinned, scarecrow of a man in a dark suit similar to Vasily’s wandered over with a notebook in his hand a look of carefully banked trepidation in his dark eyes. Approaching her was clearly not high on his list of life’s desires, but a necessity of the case.
A Killing Moon Page 3