He’d showered, changed, and met with Citrine already? Damn, he was either efficient or unsuccessful. My stomach tightened as I walked up to him. A faint waft of smoke drifted behind him, invisible on the breeze. Surely he hadn’t picked up smoking?
"You spoke to the council already?" I didn't mean to sound brash, but I probably did anyway.
"I did," Triton replied with a smile. "They're conducting an investigation on your behalf."
"Yes, I already knew that."
He nodded. "Their ruling still stands, and they want you by the book. However, if you somehow manage to catch The Shadow they’ve agreed to reinstate your title of Chief."
Well, that was… good. At least there was hope. I supposed I should take my small victories when they came.
I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around Triton's neck. "Thank you, Trite. Thank you for talking to them and for sticking up for me. You put your neck on the line, and I really owe you one."
He pulled back and waggled his brows. "You know I won't let you forget that."
I laughed and shook my head, feeling lighter than I had all night. "So, how about that game of darts?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
We took his sleek black car with the dark tinted windows down to The Brickyard Pub. I loved the place, the smoky atmosphere and the cool vibe; Triton hated it. It wasn't nearly as posh as his lifestyle demanded, but it had alcohol and darts, and that was good enough for me.
We walked in and meandered around the ruby carpeted pool tables, careful not to bump anyone's cue stick, and approached the bar.
The tender, a man with a gold tooth and a crooked smile, came over immediately, drying a glass mug with a white cloth. "What can I get ya?"
"Access to the underground," Triton murmured.
The bartender glanced left, then right, before leaning in close. "ID?"
Triton smirked and withdrew his driver's license. All supernaturals were issued special identification cards. To the human eye, they were exactly the same as normal ones, but if you added a gentle pulse of magic and shifted it just slightly, you could see the insignia of the Mage High Council written in shimmering text.
The bartender nodded and allowed us to go through a red side door that led down a dark flight of stairs. Music pumped and pulsed through the air, a sound you could feel through the floorboards and handrail, and voices chattered above the clank of pool balls and the thunk of darts.
The underground was buzzing tonight.
It wasn't just a Brickyard Pub thing, though. Almost every establishment worth their salt had an "underground" level that catered to supernaturals. Anything we could want or need. Need a supernatural lawyer? Ask for the underground at a law firm. Need a supernatural banker? Ask for the underground at your local credit union. Need a supernatural grocery store? You guessed it.
I let out my wings as soon as we reached the bottom steps, dropping the glamour. Trite knew the drill. He scratched his nails down my back and soothed the itch without me even having to ask.
Downstairs, the pool tables were clothed in royal purple and the dartboards glowed against the backdrop of a blacklight. Two of the four boards were unoccupied, so while Triton grabbed us each a set of darts, I moseyed up to the bar, which was manned by an ogre whose hands were the size of hubcaps, and ordered us some drinks—him, a dirty martini, and me, a galaxy cocktail.
I sipped at the blue, violet, and magenta colored liquid as I made my way over to our board. Triton handed me a set of torpedo barreled darts with dark blue flights. They were easiest to throw, so naturally, they were my least favorite. I liked a challenge, so I preferred the narrow cylindrical darts that had a center of gravity closer to the back.
But that's all The Brickyard Pub had in stock. I usually liked to bring my own darts when we played, but there just wasn't time for it tonight. Besides, even if I had to use plastic freaking darts, I was totally ready to kick Triton's ass.
"Around the Clock?" I asked, already eyeing the glowing wood board expectantly.
"Of course," he replied smoothly. "Losers first?"
I jutted out my chin. "Ladies first."
He grinned. "Whichever you prefer, Princess."
He soon regretted that decision when I mopped the floor with his ass twenty-to-twelve.
"Alright, alright." He finished off his drink and plucked our darts from the board. "Another round? For real, this time. No more letting you win."
"Ha!" As if he would ever just let me win anything. "I beat you fair and square, buddy, but if you're really feeling masochistic tonight, then who am I to deny you a good time?"
He raised a brow, quirked his lips, and shook his head. "You come out with the strangest shit sometimes, you know that?"
You have no idea…
He set our darts down on a nearby table and handed me his glass. "I need to use the restroom real quick. Mind refilling our drinks?"
"Yeah, no problem. But you better watch it… breaking the seal and all."
He rolled his eyes and walked away, muttering under his breath. "Yes, yes."
Grinning wide, I practically skipped to the bar. Trite was right—a couple drinks and a few rounds of darts really was helping me to feel better. Well, that and his chat with the council that saved my ass. I really did owe him for all he'd done.
I flopped down on a stool and bent forward, gazing down the shiny bar to where the tender was busy serving a group of siren girls who seemed to be having a bachelorette party. Shit. Hopefully it wouldn't take too long. I retreated to a nearby table, toying with my glass and eavesdropping as I waited.
"Did you hear?" a man's voice said quietly from the bar where I just stood a moment ago. "The Shadow was around these parts earlier."
"The Shadow?" his buddy asked in surprise.
I froze but didn’t let my posture stiffen. My ears went into overdrive, honing in on the two men like no one else in the room existed. Other sounds faded.
"Yeah," the first man replied in a thoughtful tone. "He usually doesn't stick around for long, though. And the MPs can never seem to catch him."
"I wonder what the shifter scum was up to this time?" his friend replied.
The first guy just grunted his agreement. Clearly, he knew something he wasn't saying. Something about my missed target.
"Holy shit." My words came out as a breathless whisper.
Had I just found a potential lead on Drake "the motherfucking Shadow" Guerra?
5
Aubry
There was no way fate was handing me what I needed on a platter. No fucking way.
I eyed the guy who’d spoken. He stood about three feet away, one hand on the wooden bartop, another holding a drink that looked like whiskey on the rocks. Or scotch. Or bourbon. All that shit looked the same. Like soda gone flat and turned into liquid flame.
The guy was a huge mass of muscle, probably one of those meatheads who worked out on Venice Beach, tanning and roiding it up at the same time. His neck was thicker than both my palms stacked side by side. His bicep was probably as big as my face as he moved and it flexed under his tight red t-shirt.
I subtly tried to glance over, to see if I could tell what kind of supe he was by looking at him. I couldn’t. He wasn’t fae though, he was far too bulky for that.
Sometimes I wished I had Aaron’s siren nose. The guy could smell a supe from a mile away. He could also smell pheromones, which was embarrassing once in a while. I’d learned not to have lunchtime sessions with a dom and staff meetings after.
Normally, I loved my summer fae flames. But right now, it was so inconvenient.
The hulking male noticed me looking and grinned.
Damn, he had a good smile.
He raised his glass in a toast. He had bright red hair, and eyes that looked too blue to be natural. Was he wearing colored contacts? The vanity in L.A. never ceased to amaze me. The guy was already hot. Why’d he need to go and fake it up? Was he an actor?
That thought immediately set off my spid
ey senses. If he was an actor, he might have been hired to mess with me.
But who would do that, hmm? Only the Mage Council knew that my target was The Shadow. Had they sent this guy? Was this a test? It was far too convenient that I’d randomly overheard something right after my meeting with them.
Another suspect came to mind as I took a sip of my cocktail to buy myself a moment. I knew my Aunt Meadow from the Autumn Court really wanted her daughter to take over in Los Angeles. As one of the larger territories, it was a prestigious position. Was she screwing with me?
Only one way to tell. Get ‘Big Bird’ to sing.
I set down my drink on the pub table next to me and gave him a wide grin, the grin I used at nightclubs when I was willing to put up with mediocre vanilla sex for a night. He took the bait and left the bar, walking over to me.
That’s right, Bruiser. Gotcha right in the dick, didn’t I?
I followed up the smile with some sultry seduction, licking my lower lip and looking down his entire body, before glancing back up through my lashes. That was a combo punch on the dating scene. My second swing hit the mark. Beach bod’s hand went into his jean pocket and not so subtly adjusted the enormous package there.
My throat grew dry for a second as I thought about how good a dick that big would hurt.
But that thought only crossed my mind because I’d been too busy with work lately to take care of other needs. That and my fucking doms didn’t answer their phones. I shoved my irritated thoughts away and played with my hair, popping a hip to the side and letting my black dress ride up a bit as the stud set his drink down next to mine. He was way more clean cut than I’d normally go for, but he had a magnetism, that was for sure.
"So, what’s your name?" I asked.
"E… Ethan," ‘Tarzan’ lied.
I hoped whoever was paying him hadn’t paid too much. He was a shit actor.
"Ethan, I’m Candace," I lied right back, using my cousin’s name to see if that triggered any recognition.
His fake eyes just traveled down to my breasts. This dress didn’t reveal that much, because I’d come here for darts, not a hookup. But guys were guys. The boob check told me all I needed to know. Either "Ethan" was that dumb or he didn’t know my cousin. Just to be sure, I tried one more time. "Candace Wintern." I used my cousin’s last name.
His eyebrows rose mockingly—but in disbelief of my lie, not recognition of the name. "Oh? That’s a cool last name."
So, he knew I was lying. He somehow knew my name wasn’t Candace Wintern. But he didn’t seem to know exactly who Candace Wintern actually was.
He had to have been sent there to test me.
Adrenaline pumped through me, just like it had earlier during my spar with Trite. This was sparring too. But a different kind.
I liked this kind just as much.
Beef cake swallowed hard and I scooted closer. If he was already nervous and uncomfortable, I wanted to press my advantage and interrogate him until he broke. A little thrill ran through me when I got close to him. The energy between us intensified.
I was pretty certain my aunt and cousin hadn’t sent him. But, just to check one last time, before I accused the Mage Council of something that would infuriate them, I ran my fingers over the back of his hand flirtatiously. His hand was very, very warm. And rough, like he worked outside.
I got distracted for a millisecond as I traced a small scar on his skin. It was jagged and curved. But part of a successful interrogation was to make the other person feel like it was just a conversation. So, I let my moment of distraction guide me.
"How’d you get this?" I asked. The scar looked deep. I was tempted to flip E-Ethan’s hand over to see if it went all the way through. But I didn’t.
He cleared his throat and replied softly, "I’m a machinist. Get a lot of little scars when you work with metal all day. I couldn’t tell you what that particular one is from." His words said one thing but when I glanced up at his handsome face, it said another. His eyes tightened for a second before he gave me a half smile to go with his half truth.
I believed the first part of his statement, but his acting was really atrocious. He knew exactly where that scar had come from. And it hadn’t been from a damn machine.
Part of me pitied him because I could tell that scar was traumatic. But another part of me shook my head. Would the council really send such an amateur? They’d sent actors to test us multiple times the first year out of the police academy. They wanted to ensure that noobs weren’t subject to ‘corruption.’
I’d been tested by supposed humans, a mage who offered to sell me an illegal Compulsion Spell, which was ironic, because then they’d approved Aaron’s hire and he was allowed to sing. But really... their other testers had been decent. The guy in front of me was panty-melting hot. Part of me wondered if he had been a model first. That was always a mistake. A machinist slash actor? I mean, come on.
More importantly, why would the council feed me a fake lead and send me off on a snipe hunt? Did my aunt pay them off? Was she trying to pull strings behind the scenes? I knew she had been jealous when my family had been assigned Los Angeles. My parents were suspect too, there wasn’t a lot of love lost between me and my mage-ass-kissing parents. Dad had proven more than once that his loyalties were with the council first. But Triton was on the Mage Council too. Would he sell me out?
I quickly dismissed that thought. Trite had just helped me keep my job. I shouldn’t go all crazy paranoid on him. It wasn’t fair. Besides, there’d been a time Triton had wanted to get into my pants. If he’d been going to do anything nasty, it would have been back then, when I’d told him I didn’t feel the same way. Now, Trite was like my brother. He was family here when the rest of my real family was either scattered to the wind or too asshole-ish for me to want to spend time in their company.
The council, though… would they go behind his back?
I wondered, taking another sip of my multicolored cocktail and watching a couple shifters who’d let their zebra hair pop out for a night of clubbing. They eyed "E-Ethan" and myself before tossing on their coats and making a quick exit. That made me curious about just who the couple was scared of, the huge dude or me? I was typically pretty recognizable in the magic community because of all the press conferences.
I glanced over at ‘Rocky,’ trying to keep my thoughts off his handsome face as I wondered if he was dangerous. He gave off nothing but giant marshmallow vibes as he ran a finger over his whiskey glass and gave me a shy smile.
Triton returned from the restroom just then. He sucked in his lower lip and evaluated the situation when he spotted ‘Mr. Universe’ looming over me like an oversized, cartoon superhero.
I almost felt bad about that, but Trite and I really had given it the old college try. We’d kissed, the way supes do when they’re looking for their true mate. But it was a big, wet, sloppy no go. He wasn’t my fated mate. I didn’t think Paul Bunyan here was either, but he had an ax handle the size of the Mississippi, so I would make an exception.
I winked to let Trite know everything was okay; his posture eased up slightly. He didn't really like me dating. But, since he was a serial womanizer who hopped from girl to girl, and there was no zing between us, he couldn't really stop me. Luckily, he knew nothing of my secret proclivities. He just thought I was a workaholic with no time for a real relationship. That was what I’d told him to let him down gently. And it was mostly true. But I still made time for naughty play... if and when a dom that I could actually stand was available. I was still bitter about all the send-to-voicemail brush offs. The fuckers.
Trite straightened his shirt, as if he were some self-respecting British billionaire about to meet his daughter's suitor. Idiot, I thought fondly, knowing disaster was coming.
He gave me a big fake smile when he reached us, holding out a hand to ‘Superman.’ "I see you're picking up my best mate. I'll warn you right now, she packs a mean right hook and she will try at some point to scam you at darts. Don’t be fool
ed."
"Hey!" I punched his arm as he and E-Ethan shook hands.
Trite then raised his arms in surrender. "Just the facts."
E-Ethan laughed. He had one of those contagious laughs that could set people off in fits of giggles. Or maybe that was the cocktail I drank. Or the night I’d had. But I ended up laughing until my ribs hurt.
The guys watched me for a second, but when Trite realized I was out of control, he turned to the BFG and said, "Sorry, man. She's not usually this giddy. But when she gets like this you kinda gotta just wait it out."
E-Ethan nodded. Trite started up a conversation with him, chatting about the weather, the Lakers game last weekend, boring guy shit. But all that reinforced my feeling that Triton was innocent. That he didn't know this guy had been planted there. Which begged the question... could my own parents do this to me?
How could I get The Beast to tell me? I watched E-Ethan down his beer as Trite wandered off and started talking up a cute fae in the corner. E-Ethan’s overly bright eyes flickered to me. I saw desire there, with maybe an edge of desperation. Would something bad happen to him if he didn't get me to follow his breadcrumb? Had the Mage Council threatened him?
I knew no one on the council had clean hands.
I might have to suffer through some vanilla sex in order to find out what I want, I reasoned. I peered up at Brick House and decided I might be able to sacrifice myself for one night. I just hoped he was better at sex than he was at acting.
If all else failed, I was pretty sure he could pull my hair hard. And that monster dick…
"So... I was thinking about heading out," I glanced up at Big Sexy D-List Actor suggestively.
He grinned, picking up my non-verbal invite and RSVPing instantly. "I'll grab my coat. One sec." The big guy lumbered off to the coat rack by the stairs.
I turned and waved to Trite. "See you tomorrow," I called out.
Trite held up a finger to let the giggling winter fae with pale, snowflake-shaped wings know he’d be right back. Then he walked over and gave me an odd smile. One that showed far too many teeth. "Don't go home with him," he ground out. "Something's off about him."
Fae Captive (The Mage Shifter War Book 1) Page 5
