He’s all riled up, his scarred chest moving as he struggles to breathe.
Those scars on his chest … He never did tell me where they came from.
I reach up and brush my fingertips across a small, round scar on the center of his tattooed chest. “Where did these come from?”
He swallows hard. “My father.”
Sadly, I’m not that surprised, with all the horrible stuff I’ve heard about Asher’s father.
Swallowing hard, I move my fingers downward to the next scar. “What about this one?”
He carries my gaze. “What do you think?”
“Your father did it to you,” I say quietly, brushing my thumb along it.
He gives a small nod. “This would probably be the part where I explain what a terrible creature he is, but I think you already know that.”
“I do.” I move my fingers down to the next scar and then the next.
They’re like a map of his painful past, each one marking all the pain he’s suffered. “I didn’t even realize genies could scar until I saw these on you.”
He swallows shakily. “I … We only can when we’re harmed by magic.”
I glance up at him. “He hurt you with magic?”
He nods, his gaze searing into me. “It was a long time ago. I got over it.”
He sure doesn’t seem like it, something I note as he shivers when I touch a scar located on his lower abdomen.
“Does that one hurt?”
He shakes his head from side to side. “No. Not at all. In fact, there’s not a single ounce of pain inside my body right now.”
Then why does he seem in pain?
I trace my fingers back and forth along the bottom of his abs, right above the waistband of his jeans.
“Little thief,” Asher warns, circling his fingers around my wrists.
I look at him confusedly. “You said it didn’t hurt.”
“The scars don’t.” He’s tense, his muscles all raveled up. “The touching, however, is becoming more painful by the second.”
“Oh.” I resist a hurt frown as I start to withdraw my fingers.
He must see the hurt on my face because he holds my hand in place, keeping my palm pressed against his lower abs. “It’s not painful in the way that you’re thinking … I love you fucking touching me. It’s just that …” He wavers while chewing on his pale blue lips. “It’s turning me on a little too much.”
My lips form an O, and my gaze unintentionally lowers to his crotch. Through his pants, I can see how hard he is, and that makes my heart rate increase even more.
I’m not certain why I do what I do next. Maybe because I want to see what one feels like, or maybe it’s because he got all bossy with me earlier when he touched me and I want to take back the upper hand. Whatever the reason, I find myself letting my hands drift to the waistband of his jeans and then underneath them.
I smash my lips together as my fingertips brush against him. “It’s so hard.” I immediately bite down on my tongue.
Oh my gods, did I seriously just say that?
He tries to laugh, but the noise is strangled. “Yeah, it definitely is.”
“Does it still hurt?” I ask, meeting his gaze.
He shakes his head, his eyelids lowering. “No. It feels good—”
“Um …” a voice slices through the moment.
Asher jerks back and spins around, looking over at the doorway where Maxton is now standing.
Maxton’s gaze slides from his brother to me. Or, well, not me, but my chest—my exposed chest since Asher shredded my corset. I quickly cover myself, my skin flushing. I’d probably die of mortification right there if Maxton didn’t look equally as embarrassed, his gaze gliding to the wall, his cheeks tinted pink.
“I’m just gonna … leave,” he mumbles then starts to walk out of the room.
“You don’t have to leave. Just give us a second.” Asher climbs off the bed, scoops up the shirt he was wearing earlier, and then returns to me.
Without uttering a word, he guides my arms away from my chest and tugs what’s left of the corset off me. “Put your hands up.”
Puzzled, I lift my arms above my head.
A half-grin materializes on his face as he slips his shirt over my head and covers me up. Then he leans down and gives me one more kiss before turning toward Maxton, who has his back to us and is staring out into the hallway.
“You can turn around now,” he tells his brother as he walks over to the table and picks up the empty glasses he was drinking out of before we started messing around.
Maxton inhales loudly then twists back toward the room, his gaze briefly flitting to me, his cheeks flush. Then he hurriedly looks away and fixes his attention on his brother.
Great. Now things are gonna be awkward between Maxton and me.
“Where’s Arrow?” Asher asks Maxton as he lazily strolls over to the bar, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
Me? My mind is racing as what happened between Asher and me washes over me. Sometimes, whenever one of them touches me, I feel like a different person—creature—then the old Harlynn who spent most of her life keeping her distance from others. But that version of me didn’t even exist, did it?
“He sent me here to pass along a message,” Maxton replies as he sinks into a chair at the table. “Him and I saw the front desk clerk using a crystal ball that we’re pretty certain is a security crystal ball.”
Okay, so I’m totally aware that my paranormal knowledge is limited, but this …
“Hey, I know what that is,” I declare, scooting to the edge of the bed and lowering my feet to the floor.
Asher smiles amusedly as he uncaps a bottle filled with violet liquid. “Do you now?”
“Yes, I do.” I square my shoulders. “It’s a crystal ball that kind of works like a security camera, so more than likely, it probably shows what’s going on in that event in the basement.”
“While I love your confidence, little thief, I already assumed as much.” Ash fills the cup up to the brim and smiles at me, not in a cocky way or anything like that. It’s the same smile he gives me whenever he thinks I’m being innocently cute or whatever.
“Good for you,” I quip, crossing my arms and flashing him a haughty grin. “But did you know that there’s a really simple way to steal them?”
He’s in the middle of lifting the glass toward his lips when he pauses. “What’s this way exactly?”
My grin broadens as I stand up. Even though I’m tall, his shirt nearly dwarfs me and is a reminder of what Asher and I were doing only minutes ago. But I push those thoughts aside and focus on this moment, because finally, finally, I feel like I’m about to be useful.
“How about I just show you instead?”
He lowers the glass from his lips, hesitation consuming his features. “Is it dangerous?”
I shake my head. “Not any more dangerous than any of the other stealing missions I’ve done.”
He sets his drink down onto the counter. “When you tried to steal my lamp from me, you got injected with death poison.”
Crap, I guess I should’ve used a better example.
“Yeah, but was I ever really in any danger?” I question, playing with the hem of the shirt. What I’m really asking is: were you ever going to let me die, even if I hadn’t made the bargain with him?
To be honest, part of me doesn’t want to hear the answer.
And he doesn’t seem like he’s eager to tell me the answer, either.
“No,” he finally caves.
“So, you would’ve just let me go if I hadn’t made the bargain?”
He massages the back of his neck, seeming twitchy. “Yes.”
And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen, the truth and a realization on my part.
“So, if I hadn’t have agreed to go with you, you would’ve just healed me and let me go with your lamp?” I ask.
“I wouldn’t have let you go with my lamp,” he explains. “I just … We could’ve
gotten it from you, healed you, and let you go.”
I frown, unsure how I feel about his answer. “But you decided to get something out of it instead?”
He gives a stiff half-shrug. “That was part of the reason.”
“What was the other part?”
He rubs his lips together, studying me. “Because I—we—wanted to keep you around.”
“You sound just like East,” I tell him. “But, why would you guys want to keep me back then? You didn’t even know me.”
He merely shrugs. “I had a feeling from the second I laid eyes on you that there was something different about you.”
“Because I wasn’t human probably, but you didn’t know what,” I state.
“No, it wasn’t that.” He picks up his drink again, rounds the bar, and stops in front of me. “It was because you were the creature from my curse, and I think my magic realized that, even if I, myself, couldn’t quite place why I felt a connection to you.”
I angle my head to the side. “You felt a connection to me?”
He nods, reaching out and brushing a strand of hair out of my face. “Did you not feel it, too?”
I want to be able to nod, but the truth is … “Not really. But I wasn’t aware that I had magic either.”
He sucks on his lip ring with a contemplative look on his face. “What did you think of me the first time you met me?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?” I ask warily.
He nods. “Yep. I’m curious.”
“Okay then.” I blow out a breath. “Well, the first thing I thought was that you were gorgeous. Like really, really gorgeous,” I say, and he starts to grin. “But then you opened your mouth and I just thought you were a cocky asshole.”
His smile fades a little. “You know I didn’t mean that top-shelf quality remark, right?”
I shrug. “I know that now.”
“What top-shelf remark?” Maxton wonders, causing Asher and I to jolt. I think we almost forgot he was there—he’s so quiet.
“Oh, you know, when I first met Asher, he thought I was an aftershow woman and told me that I definitely wasn’t top-shelf quality and to go find another band that had lower standards,” I explain, sneaking Asher a joking grin.
Maxton elevates a brow at Asher. “You said that to her?”
“I didn’t mean it,” Asher grimaces then downs like half his drink. “She just caught me off guard. Because I felt like I knew her or something, yet I couldn’t figure out why. And I regretted it the moment I said it.”
“You didn’t seem like it,” I say.
“I don’t seem like a lot of things,” he tells me.
“True,” I agree.
He takes another long sip of his drink. “And why do you think I asked you your age then told you to come back to the vehicle after the fire was taken care of?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. You said it was for entertainment.”
“And it was.” Flicking a glance at his brother, he fixes his gaze on me and steps toward me, lowering his voice. “I wanted to do something pretty similar to what I just did to you a few minutes ago.”
I smash my lips together as my heart hammers in my chest, and his lips twitch upward into an arrogant smile.
“Well, it probably wouldn’t have worked out in your favor then,” I manage to say.
His expression softens. “I know.” He touches a strand of my hair again, this time raveling it around his finger. “I had to earn your trust first.”
“Well, that and I thought I was still cursed.” I pause. “Which I still think I am, unless that’s changed?” I leave the silent question hanging out there.
Asher’s gaze strays to Maxton, and so does mine. Maxton looks from me to Asher and they trade a weird look.
“Oh my gods,” I groan, my head bobbing. “Will someone, please, for the love of gods, tell me how we’re supposed to break this curse, because it’s driving me mad.”
Asher’s lips part. “Not yet. I want everyone to be here when we—”
I place my hand over his mouth. “Nope. I don’t want to hear any more excuses.” I lower my hand from his mouth. “You can either tell me now, or I’m gonna go steal myself a crystal ball.”
“I …” He struggles for words, which is super weird. “I can’t just talk to you without everyone else.”
I fold my arms across my chest and stare him down. “Why not?”
He hesitates. “Because … It’s not just for me to tell you.”
“Okay then.” I back toward the door.
He narrows his eyes at me. “Little thief, you can’t just go stealing crystal balls from succubi. It’s too dangerous.”
“I already told you there’s an easy way,” I remind him. “And it’s not your decision. I may be with you guys, but you do not get to boss me around.”
Smoke briefly shadows his eyes. “You sure about that?”
“Yep.” I reach for the door. “I’m making this decision for myself, because it’s my birthday and I wanna feel like a badass for a moment.”
“It’s your birthday?” Maxton and Asher say simultaneously, their eyes widening.
I nod, unsure why they’re so shocked. “Yeah. Well, from what I know. I probably have another birthday. But this is the day that I always believed I was born, and while I usually don’t really do anything for myself, I want to do this.”
Mostly because I’ve been feeling useless lately. Plus, them not telling me more about the curse is starting to drive me crazy. Clearly, despite everything that’s happened, they’re keeping secrets from me. And instead of chasing those secrets, I’m going to do something much more productive.
I crack my knuckles. “All right, it’s time to show you just how awesome of a thief I am.”
“Little thief …” Asher warns, stepping toward me. “Don’t do anything irrational.”
“This isn’t irrational. I know what I’m doing. And you’ll realize that in a few minutes.” With that, I spin around to leave, only to slam into a solid, metal woven chest.
“Shit. Are you okay?” Arrow asks, steadying me.
So much for being a badass.
Grimacing, I step back. “Yeah, I’m just peachy.”
He looks at me funnily. “What’re you doing?”
“I’m going to steal that crystal ball,” I inform him. Then I square my shoulders and lift my chin, preparing to make a grand exit. Or, well, try for a second time.
“Arrow, don’t let her leave,” Asher says to Arrow.
“No, Arrow, do let me leave,” I tell him, then move to swing around him.
Arrow hesitates, glancing at Asher, then steps in front of me.
My lips part in shock as I grind to a halt. “Hey, best friends are supposed to have each other’s backs.”
“Sorry,” Arrow murmurs, appearing torn. “But maybe we should talk about this first.”
My lips twitch in annoyance. “Nah, I’m just gonna do it.” I try to sidestep around him, but someone snags the back of my shirt and tugs me back. Asher, I’m assuming. “Let me go, genie dude,” I growl out.
But he only tows me backward until my back is aligned with his chest. “I will,” he says. “But before you go storming off out of here, we need to talk about this first and make a rational plan so no one gets hurt. Because if you get busted doing this, it’ll fall back on all of us.”
Shit. He’s right.
“Fine,” I give in. “But please let go of me.”
He releases the back of my shirt, and I take a step away from him.
Arrow offers me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry for stepping in front of you, Har, but I think Asher is right about this.”
“It’s fine,” I tell him. “Not that Asher is totally right, but I do get why you stopped me.”
“Oh, Asher is completely right,” Asher assures then finishes off the last of his drink.
“And apparently likes to refer to himself in third person,” I say, trading an amused look with Arrow.
&
nbsp; Arrow grins, but then confusion floods his features as he scrolls over me. “Why are you wearing Asher’s shirt?”
“Um …” I fiddle with the hem of the shirt, looking at Asher, hoping he’ll chime in.
But all he does is smirk and say, “Yeah, little thief, why are you wearing my shirt?”
Silence trickles by.
“Well, this is fucking fun,” Maxton finally mumbles, folding his arms on top of the table while observing Asher, Arrow, and me. “Is it normal for everything to be so awkward?”
Asher chews on his bottom lip, glancing from me to his brother. “No, she brings it out in us.”
“Hey,” I protest. “I do not.”
They all just sort of stare at me.
“Fine,” I surrender. “Maybe I do. But if you want a break from it, I can just go get on with this stealing thing.” I inch to the side.
Asher gives me a tolerant look. “No one wants a break from it.”
“A break from what?” East strolls into the room, shuts the door, and then his gaze flicks between the four of us. “Why does everyone look so weirded out?” he asks curiously.
No one says anything at first.
“Because Harlynn’s wearing Asher’s shirt,” Maxton finally offers a reply.
East glances at me, then Asher, Arrow, and conclusively back at Maxton. “I can see why that might be making Arrow and Asher a bit weirded out, but that doesn’t explain why you look a little uncomfortable, as well.”
Maxton’s grey eyes fleeting wander to me and across my body before he hastily looks away, his cheeks a bit pink. I cross my arms self-consciously as I remember how he saw what was underneath this shirt.
“Okay, what in the worlds happened while I was gone?” East declares amusedly.
“Nothing happened,” I lie with a shrug.
He steps toward me with a devilish grin on his face. “Liar.” He snags ahold of the hem of the shirt and tugs me toward him. “So, come on; give me all the juicy gossip, or I’m going to feel left out.” He juts out his lip.
I roll my eyes. “Stop pouting. It’s not gonna work.”
“Yeah, but the fact that you said it’s not gonna work means there is juicy gossip to be told.” Wicked delight shimmers in his eyes. “Come on; tell me.”
If we had been behind closed doors, I may have, but I’m not about to give a recap of how Maxton walked in on me Asher messing around while the two of them are around.
Chasing Secrets (Capturing Magic Series Book 4) Page 7
