Stolen by the Fae

by Laxmi Hariharan

  “That should be my dialogue.” I chuckle, and the sound comes out more like a sob.

  He tosses his head. My gaze is drawn to the pointed tips of his ears. So Fae. He’s so different from me.

  His thoughts seem to run along the same lines. “This cannot be.”

  His vowels deepen, altering his accent. The rational part of my brain vibrates a warning. “You are not from this city, are you?”

  He places his finger on my lips. “It’s why, this…” He jerks his chin at me. “Whatever this is between us…it’s over.”

  “It never started.”

  “You got that right.” Furrows mark his perfect forehead.

  Frustration rolls of him in waves, and for a second, I glimpse something tortured in his eyes. The band around my chest tightens. I reach up to touch his cheek.

  He swerves, and my hand falls to my side.

  Then, those blue eyes of his grow cold until they resemble chips of ice. I’d been mistaken. A shiver of dread runs down my spine. I’ve underestimated him.

  The Fae female who is taking over as the Leader of Moscow had renounced her ties to her own clan. She’d broken off diplomatic relationships with the Fae state of Singapore, because of their callous ways. “If you are not from here, then you—”

  “—should leave.” His voice is hard, uncompromising.

  There’s a warning in his tone that stops me from stating the obvious. That he is an enemy of the state. And I’d let him finger-fuck me, no less.

  My guts churn.

  It’s not fair that I’ve fallen for this man so fast only to find out he’s the very threat I am guarding against.

  I need to raise the alarm, get more of my team here…but my arms and legs feel too heavy to move. And that’s an excuse. I can’t give up this man. I don’t know him…and yet I sense a connection between us. One I don’t want to explore further. One I cannot allow to deepen any more. “Get out.” I lift my chin.

  “Not without giving you something to remember me by.”

  6

  Dante

  I’m the one who wanted to walk away, and yet the very fact that she’s agreed to it, that she, too, realizes the futility of forging a relationship between us, twists my insides.

  What gives her the right to turn away from me?

  That privilege belongs solely to me.

  A gentleman would soften the blow, perhaps just leave without another glance, which would be merciful. Or else explain to her why it is that we can’t be together despite the fact that we clearly have a connection. Better still, claim her and simply take her out of here.

  I stiffen at that last thought. I can do that, can simply make her leave with me. And then what? Give up the reason I’ve come to this city?

  Return to the remainder of the Fae clan and explain to them exactly why I had walked away from my mission? Let down all of them, and the possible future we’d drawn up for the upcoming generations? All for what? For a woman, I met, less than half an hour ago. The very fact that I’ve been contemplating it sends a frisson of fear down my spine.

  Whoever Starlight is, clearly her nearness is influencing me. She isn’t someone I want to be with. And I am protesting too much. Sweat streaks the inside of my palms. My arms and legs tingle. I need to get away from her. Now.

  I raise my head and meet her gaze. Eyes of shattered silver with green streaks in them. The turmoil in them seems to mirror the conflict in my own self.

  “Just one last taste. Just one, then I’ll leave.”

  It’s only when I hear my voice, I realize I’ve spoken.

  Her shoulders quiver. “No.” Her gaze drops to my lips. Her palms come up to push against my shirt.

  The heat of her touch sinks into my blood. Every part of me tenses with anticipation. My cock grows so thick it feels like I have a metal rod stuck between my legs. “Fuck,” I swear.

  Then I close the space between us and cover her mouth with mine. I mean to punish. To ravage. To take. To mark her and leave. Instead, I soften my lips.

  I pleasure her.

  Lick my tongue over her mouth. Press little nibbles on her lower lip, then continue the kisses over her cheek, up to where her eyelids flutter down.

  I kiss each closed eyelid in turn. Her eyelashes trail against my lips. Just a light touch… Just enough to send a streak of yearning twisting over my skin.

  I groan in my throat. I know I need to just turn and walk away before it’s too late. Before I forget about my past, my future, everything but her. And I admit that for a second, I am tempted. I really am. I pick up the sound of footsteps approaching the door and know my time has run out.

  Trailing my fingers over her hips to cup my fingers over the luscious curve of her butt, I flutter kisses over her temple, to the shell of her ear. Then lick the delicate whorls.

  She shivers.

  The sugary scent of her arousal bleeds into the air.

  My groin tightens

  One side of my lips draws up.

  Of course I want to torture her, but the person getting the short shrift of this bargain is me. Every part of me aches to simply take her, get her out of here, away from the pandemonium I know is going envelop this city, away from those outside at the bar, from the person who is approaching the door right now.

  “Remember me,” I whisper against her ear. Then I drop into myself. The air around me grows light. The hackles on my neck rise. The energy fills my cells and overflows, shattering me into tiny particles that dissolve into the air. Even as my body teleports out, the essence of me lingers with her. I project my phantom self, there, still holding her, dragging my tongue back to her lips, kissing her. Supporting her weight. Lingering there until the door opens. Then I yank back.

  That holograph of myself fades, too, and I am pulled into the vortex.

  7

  Gia

  One minute he is holding me—the touch of him bleeds into my skin, his voice trails over my ear, his scent curls around me—then his presence fades. He doesn’t disappear, though, not completely.

  His touch dwells as a protective presence that shields me from reality, allowing me to come slowly back to earth.

  I open my eyes to find I am alone.

  Well, except for the woman who’s just entered.

  “Jessica?”

  She pauses just inside the entrance to the space. Her gaze sweeps the area, then she sniffs the air. “Smells like sex in here.”

  My cheeks flush. Damned shifter senses. Of course, she'd have scented the lingering traces of my climax. I shuffle my weight from foot to foot.

  Her shoulders stiffen. "Something you wanna tell me, girlfriend?"

  Jess is not only my teammate but one of my closest friends. It's so tempting to blurt out what happened. I open my mouth, and the words stick in my throat. What am I going to say? That I let a stranger fingerfuck me, and he gave me the most incredible orgasm of my life, and now I am spoiled for anyone else? Yikes. That sounds about right.

  Fact is, the chemistry between me and the Fae male had been explosive. I'd been drawn to him in a way that it had overpowered all rational thought. The sheer magnetism of his presence had reeled me in, and I had willingly submitted to him. Damn, but I want more, so much more of him. My toes curl in my sneakers.

  A-n-d, nope, I can't share that, not until I make sense of it myself. I widen my gaze. “I have no idea what you mean,”

  "Was someone here with you?" She props a hip against the doorjamb. “I thought I heard voices.”

  “I think you’ve been working too hard." I look her in the eye. "The Bureau of Shifters has been known to inspire much loyalty in its recruits, but you are the most dedicated of them all.”

  She taps her toe on the floor. “I admit I’ve been overdoing it, but this isn’t some normal assignment: guarding the Leader of Moscow who is taking over from her father, a man who was the most notorious Fae of all time.” She rubs her palm on her bare thigh. As always while off duty, her shorts barely reach the tops of her legs.


  “Yeah. One heck of a prime assignment.” Bitterness bleeds into my voice. Even an hour earlier I’d have meant every word. Now…it all feels pointless. Everything feels empty; there is a hollow in my chest growing bigger, deeper with every second.

  I turn around to the basin and open up the faucet.

  She takes a step inside. “You seem flushed, Gia." Her voice softens, "Everything okay?”

  I chuckle, then, bending over the tap, scoop up the water and splash it over my cheeks. “Why wouldn’t it be?” I peer at her through the drops of water dripping from my eyelashes.

  She raises her shoulders, then lowers them, “No, nothing. Just wondered.” Walking over to the next basin, she pats her own sleek mop of hair.

  “What are you doing here anyway?” I grab some of the tissues from the container and wipe my face with them. My pulse still thuds in remembrance of the Fae male’s touch.

  My skin feels sensitive.

  Every part of my body seems to be on edge. Yet it’s as if it was all a dream. Had he actually been here? Had he actually made me come? Blood rushes to my cheeks. Damn. Bad idea. I shouldn’t be thinking of him now, not with someone else around. Apparently, just the thought of him is enough to turn me on.

  “I came looking for you.” She grabs a tube of color from her tiny purse and smears it over her lips.

  “The swearing-in ceremony.” I smooth down my curls. No matter what I do, my hair will never behave itself. “We’re running late for the briefing.” I stalk to the dragon shifter who steps aside. Brushing past her, I walk back into the bar, and she follows me.

  The noise envelops me. People drinking, talking, the jukebox striking up a song. Everything seems normal, sane.

  Only I have changed.

  In the short time I've been gone, I seem to have become someone I don’t recognize. Someone who’d allowed a stranger to kiss her, ram his finger into her and… There’s a touch on my shoulder.

  I swing around with my fists raised in front of me.

  “Easy…easy.” Jessica stares down at me from her superior height. “You’re definitely flushed now.”

  “It’s too hot in here.” I drop my arms then make for the exit. Stomping out, I take in lungfuls of the cool evening air.

  “The ceremony starts in three hours.” Jess walks to the car parked by the side.

  Swerving around, I yank open the passenger door then drop inside.

  “You sure you weren’t in there with a man, G?” She wiggles her eyebrows at me.

  “Very sure.” I fold my arms over my chest. “No man, just a…” The need to confide my mixed-up feelings is overwhelming. But what do I tell her? That I’d allowed myself to be finger-fucked by a stranger?

  A man I am never going to meet again, whose name I don’t know. Whom I must forget. Except it’s going to be difficult. The taste of his lips is still imprinted on mine. I can still smell that dark-chocolate scent of him on my skin.

  “A…?” Jess tips her chin down.

  “We’re going to be late.” I strap myself in.

  “Hmm.” Her lips firm. “I’ll worm it out of you yet.” She sets the vehicle in motion.

  The breath I’d been holding rushes out.

  We drive in silence for the next ten minutes until we reach the Royal Palace set just off Red Square.

  Parts of it have yet to be rebuilt after the fire that the dragons set off when they defeated Igor, the last Leader of Moscow. They killed the Dark Fae Lord, and his daughter took over.

  “You think Amara is happy at having the opportunity to set right the mistakes of her father?” I glance at Jess.

  “Not like she has a choice.” She turns the steering wheel to veer off the main highway and into the driveway. “She is the logical successor. And the only one who can put right the atrocities Igor committed on his people. She has a chance to redeem the reputation of the Faes in the city.” She halts the vehicle in the area designated for special forces, who’ve been called in to take care of the security arrangements for the day.

  “All the clan leaders from the biggest republics will be present today.” She parks the car. “Even the mer-shifters are making an appearance for the first time.”

  “It’s a plum assignment, to guard Amara during this critical time.” I unfasten my seat belt and make to open the door.

  “Exactly why you need to focus and not screw it up.”

  I stiffen.

  A sliver of apprehension courses over my skin.

  There’s no way that she could have guessed about the encounter with the Fae, could she?

  But Jess is one of the sharpest intelligence agents I know; it’s why the Bureau sent her with me. She’s talented, with deadly fighting skills and sharp instincts. In short, she is not a fool.

  “You want to tell me what you’re getting at?” I grip the door handle with fingers that have gone numb.

  “Just that you have the distinction of being the first human recruit—”

  “The only one so far,” I sniff.

  "True that." She jerks her chin at me,” You also graduated top of your class at the Bureau. Talk about being an overachiever."

  "And you didn't come here to reel off my accomplishments." I shove open the door, jump down, and head toward my quarters to get changed.

  Jess follows close behind. Her long legs eat up the distance between us. “I am just reminding you that you were chosen as Amara’s personal bodyguard for this specific occasion because you appear unthreatening.”

  “If someone comes for Amara, they are bound to underestimate me.” I turn to meet her gaze over my shoulder. “You would do well not to misjudge me either.”

  Her face breaks into a smile that lights up her features. “I never doubted your commitment, G.”

  The tension bleeds out of my muscles. I hold up my fist.

  Jess bypasses it and throws her arms around me. “I know you’re going to make the Bureau proud and open the way for more humans to enroll.”

  I bare my teeth. “Anyone planning to hurt Amara is in for a nasty surprise.”

  8

  Dante

  “You’re late.” Tristan ambles away from the low wall on the edge of Red Square.

  “Correction, you got here early.” I set my jaw. I am precisely on time.

  “Don’t fuck with me.” My partner on the mission leans forward on the balls of his feet. “You’re sweating, like a woman on a first date.”

  And that’s the problem when your pal knows you too well, when you trained with him, faced enemies with him, when you’ve saved each other’s asses more times than you’ve sucked pussy. You. Can’t. Hide.

  I bunch my shoulders. “Just ran into a little…diversion.” That’s what I want that little scene back at the bar to be, anyway. If I pretend hard enough, I may even be able to convince myself. Not.

  He narrows his gaze. “Get your bloated head back in the game, Kill.”

  Kill, short for Killer, very original. But hey, can’t help it if my rep precedes me if even conflict-hardened Fae stick to that nickname, right? “Don’t go getting your panties in a wad, Chef.” Fucker used to be a Michelin-starred cook, though that’s not the only reason he got saddled with that moniker.

  He scratches his chin. “You know the commander would love to see you fail this mission.”

  “You’d be right.” I crack my knuckles. "I don't plan on giving him the satisfaction. I am going to see this assignment through at any cost."

  “Don’t go doing something reckless now." Tristan frowns, "Much as I hate your guts, you know me, and the rest of the Fae Corps have your back.”

  “All that love.” I thump my chest. “I was positive that the eight of us stuck together because we are the only ones in all the Fae race who can teleport.”

  “Sadly, so can the commander. He also has the ear of the Fae Elders. Not one to be fucked around with. Catch my drift?” Tristan shakes back that glossy blond hair. His pretty-boy looks mean he never can blend in with a crowd, and neit
her can I, but for the opposite reason.

  I look too mean, too much of who I actually am: a cold-hearted fuck who loves to deliver that final killing blow and take people out. Most mortals tend to give me a wide berth, which works well for me; less riffraff to contend with.

  Only, I do value my own life too much to be distracted.

  I don’t intend to die, not anytime soon.

  Not until I’ve had a chance to break a human female who smells like sunshine and tastes like…like she's ripe for my touch.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to still my thoughts. Sure enough, the vision of her eyes fills my mind.

  For fuck’s sake. Her features seem burned into my brain.

  I must be losing my ability to keep my emotions under control. I never let my emotions get in the way. I am an asshole to everyone, no favorites there. And there were no feelings involved with what had transpired between me and Starlight…were there?

  “You okay, Kill?” He frowns.

  “Get off my ass, will ya?” I rub the back of my neck.

  “Not fooling me.” Tristan clicks his tongue.

  “Now what, you can read my mind?” I set my jaw.

  “Don’t need to. Your pulse is elevated. Sweat glistens on your upper lip. You seem like—” His forehead crinkles. “No, but that can’t be it, can it?”

  “Spit it out. I am only on the verge of infiltrating enemy territory, exactly the right time for a heart to heart.” I curl my lips in my version of a smile. Most men would have given me a wide berth.

  This fucker ignores it. He saunters over, then sniffs the air over my shoulder, “From the whiff of frustration that clings to you, I’d hazard a guess that there’s a woman involved, except, well…you…” He snickers. “We all know you like females for only one thing, and it’s not for affairs of the heart.”

  “Ha…fucking…ha.” I draw myself up to my full height. “And here I thought the worst part of having you along on a job was your ugly mug; I was so wrong.” I flick fake tears from my cheek. “It’s your lame sense of humor; it’s so bad that you should use it to cringe people to death. It’d be more effective than zapping them with telekinetic energy.”