by Lizzy Ford
“She’s pretty amazing,” Zoey murmured.
“Yeah but don’t tell her that.” Vikki laughed. “Speaking of tough love, you thinking of bringing in Declan’s head?”
“Haven’t decided. Depends on how it goes when I see him.”
“So you aren’t running.”
“I need to know what happened with Heidi,” Zoey said quietly. “And why he didn’t try to tell me he’s innocent. I also need to know if he’s going to kill me or cut our funding for kidnapping his father.”
“Great. You get DC. I’ll go to Maryland and tell Gin to head to Virginia.” Vikki checked her watch. “It’s ten. Shall we give the order for a one o’clock attack on the lab?”
“Sounds good.” She gave Vikki a bear hug. “Be careful.”
“You, too. I’m tired of losing you. We gotta fix this once and for all.”
Zoey said nothing, aware her priority was the team. Once Chrissy had the samples, Zoey intended to give the order to fix the Halflings first.
But first, she needed the truth from Declan. Unable to process the idea he’d let her believe he was guilty for so long, she nonetheless feared the heartache of widening the wound that would never heal. With less than three weeks remaining with her mind, she at least knew the pain wasn’t going to last long.
“Ready?” Vikki was watching her.
“More or less.” Zoey said. “Good luck to both of us.”
Chapter Seventeen: Zoey and Declan
At precisely one in the morning, Zoey took off the band for ten seconds and replaced it. She turned on the light to the kitchen, gaze lingering on the stovetop. Declan had made her an omelet there once, and the memory was unusually poignant.
Everything about his apartment touched her in a way that made her want to crawl out of her skin and cry somewhere. She forced herself to walk though it and paused to the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse overlooking the city. His place was spotless, the hum of the air conditioning almost indiscernible, the décor simple and modern.
His dark vanilla scent lingered in the air, a smell that made her body roar to life. It was faint, as if he hadn’t been here in a long time, though it grew stronger when she approached the closed door to his bedroom.
Zoey’s hands were clammy at the idea of stepping inside the peaceful room, the place where she’d become his soul-mate only to lose him to another woman. Her emotions grew rawer the longer she stood so close to the bed symbolizing what they were supposed to be.
Agitated, turned on, sad, she stepped away and went instead to the couch, swinging her legs over the back and sitting with her feet on the cushions. She’d made an attempt to rehearse what she wanted to say to him on the way there, too aware her strength was reacting, not planning.
“Declan, I’m only here to ask one question. That’s it,” she whispered the words with what conviction she could muster. The wall she tried to put around her emotions was crumbling.
This was not a normal mission, and it felt like the hardest thing she’d done in her life.
While she didn’t hear him enter, she sensed him the moment he set foot in his apartment, his presence like a warm breeze on a fall day. Zoey breathed in his scent and caught herself, refocusing.
“You can’t be here,” Declan’s low, husky voice reached her across the room and slid through her.
The words she wanted to say stuck in her throat. Instead she watched him move from the entrance to the doorway between the foyer and living area. His eyes were whiskey colored in the light of the kitchen, his lean, relaxed frame and steady gaze showing no sign of the discomfort she experienced.
She’d always been mesmerized, if not envious, of his presence and the natural command he always held over everything around him. He made leadership, diplomacy and control appear effortless. It was in his expression, his eyes, the way he moved. He wore a well-tailored suit and jacket with complementing tie.
He paused in the doorway, as if waiting for her to speak.
Zoey tapped the band on her wrist to ensure she still wore it. He was strong enough that it couldn’t completely dampen his influence.
“I need something,” she began.
“The money wasn’t enough?” An edge entered his tone.
She eyed him. “You’re the one who offered a blank check. No one made you do what you did.”
He unbuttoned his suit and peeled off the jacket, the man she knew intimately remaining hidden behind the professional, frosty mask of the Chief Enforcer. He tossed the jacket on the back of the designer chair near the couch, followed by his tie.
Zoey’s gaze lingered on the triangle of golden skin visible above the top button of his crisp, white shirt.
“What do you want?” he asked, his voice soft and cold.
“Fuck you, too, Declan.” Any hope she had of wanting Vikki to be right fizzled. Innocent men weren’t dicks. Her agitation melted into anger, and Zoey stepped off the couch, passing him on her way to the door.
I’d rather take off the head of an incubus.
“Why do you need an incubus’s head?” he asked.
“Careful, Declan or I’ll make it yours!”
“You walk into my apartment with weapons and wonder why I’m not happy with you.”
Rule number one. She’d never forgotten, but the reminder of the incubus rules for their soul-mates had the opposite effect. Rather than set her weapons aside the way he always insisted she did, Zoey drew one and whirled, flinging a knife at him.
It grazed his white shirt and buried itself into the wall beside him.
Declan didn’t even flinch, infuriating her more.
“What about rules two through four?” she snapped. “No lying. No cheating. No letting anything come between us? Fuck rule number one, Declan. Don’t like it? Go fuck another succubus.”
“You follow rule one, or we don’t talk.” Declan pried the knife loose from the wall. “I didn’t invite you here, and I doubt you’d seek me out if you had an alternative. So, put your shit down.”
“Or what?” For the billionth time, Zoey had the sensation of beating her head against the wall. It was a familiar, albeit unwanted feeling, one she’d experienced from the minute she realized she was neither a human nor a normal Halfling. “Because this says you can’t do shit to me.” She held up her forearm and tugged down her sleeve to show him the band.
Declan tested the knife. He flipped it over to grip its blade, almost like he knew how to use it.
Bristling, Zoey whirled and reached for the doorknob, her anger bubbling out of control. She had been close to hyperventilating at the thought of confronting him and infuriated by his cold, condescending reception.
Something pinched her arm a split second before the band dropped to her feet with a soft thunk. She jerked, glancing down. The knife stuck out of the band’s gray rubber, its placement too perfect to be an accident. The tip of the blade had gone through the small lock that kept it on her wrist.
“Wait a minute,” she said, kneeling beside it. “I thought you incubuses didn’t know how to use weapons.”
“Just because we don’t use them doesn’t mean we don’t know how,” he replied.
Zoey retrieved her knife but left the band. The blade had severed the lock; it was useless if she couldn’t clasp it around her. A warning bell went off in the back of her mind.
“Rule one, Zoey.”
She rose, somewhat comforted that her back was to the door, even if she knew she’d never have time to leave, if he didn’t want her to. This Declan – the powerful enforcer – had always scared her.
He was watching her, impossible to read, with a glimmer of fire lighting up his whiskey hued eyes.
“Fuck it. Fine.” Zoey removed her weapons and stacked them on the decorative table near the door. She whirled to show she had nothing else on her. “Happy?”
“Come on in.” He turned away and strode into the living area.
“I’m fine here.” She objected, remaining by the door.
“Scared?”
He knew how to egg her on and what to say to provoke her. Worst of all: he knew she needed help if she was there.
“I’m not scared,” she said through clenched teeth. With some reluctance and another look at her weapons, she trailed him and lingered in the doorway to the foyer.
Declan sat on the couch, somehow managing to remain as commanding and in control as he did standing. He interlaced his fingers behind his head and leaned back against the couch, waiting.
“There won’t be an army of Cambions outside your door when I’m done here, will there?” she asked uncomfortably, too aware that it was him making her body tingle and not the idea of killing a herd of Cambions.
“I can handle you just fine.”
Warmth crept up her neck. “I need the head of an incubus.”
“Only the head.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t have any in the freezer. Not sure I can help you.”
It took effort, but Zoey didn’t let the dry, unexpected joke make her smile. Declan’s sense of humor always caught her off guard. It was sharp yet quiet and unpredictable, like him.
“If you need a full incubus, we might be able to negotiate.”
“I think I’d rather take my chances finding an incubus and chopping off his head,” she replied.
“What do you need him for?”
She glanced out the window. “We figured out how and what Olivia is doing to the Halflings. We need pure samples of gland shit from an incubus.”
“Gland shit,” he repeated, a faint smile pulling up one side of his lips. Everything Declan did was done with an innate ability to seduce.
Zoey caught herself staring too long, leaning in to get a whiff of his scent and to test his magic.
“You need a lab to make the neurotoxin.”
The clock on the wall above him read one thirty. “We’ve got one,” Zoey replied.
“Interesting.” The brief humor was gone, replaced by the expression of an enforcer searching for the truth in his investigation. He lowered his hands and stood. “It’s not any of mine. Which means the four of you suddenly appearing at random places across the DC metro area was meant to pull my attention from somewhere.” As he spoke, he drew nearer, stopping within arm’s length without coming closer.
Zoey reached back for a knife only to recall she was disarmed. The combination of his scent, closeness, and her memories were starting to eat away at the resistance she wanted to remain firm. “That’s none of your concern, Declan,” she warned him. She took a step back, aware of what he could do if he touched her. He had the ability to read some of her thoughts from a distance, but direct contact left her entire mind exposed.
“Olivia’s formerly secret lab. Four of you to distract my forces. The rest taking over the lab. It all works out, except that you need a sample.”
She didn’t expect the flicker of his anger, not after all he’d put her through. “Don’t, Declan. I can see it on your face. If you’re even considering warning Olivia –”
“What Zoey?” he challenged, closing the distance between them. “You’ll do what?”
Breathless, she stared up at him, momentarily caught in the magic of the super incubus that was her soul-mate. His chiseled features were hard. Her lower belly began to burn, her blood quickening and pulse like the patter of a hard rain.
“You don’t know what kind of fire you’re playing with,” he said, calming and reining in the magic that held her transfixed.
Zoey blinked and eased back. “I don’t have a choice, Declan. I need the toxin and antitoxin. The toxin stabilizes the Halflings so they don’t self-destruct.” She stopped, realizing she’d told him more than she intended.
“How does it work?” he pressed.
“Olivia used it as a drug, doping up the Halflings. When she was done with them, she stopped giving them the drug and they went crazy like the Cambions and had to be put down, which she did by feeding them to the Cambions who are supplying the toxin to her in the first place.”
Declan listened, eyes on her lips as she spoke. His long lashes had always intrigued her, along with the flecks of green in his hazel eyes.
“Don’t stop,” he said in a sultry whisper that made warmth bloom hot and quick inside her. “You said you wanted the antitoxin as well. Why?”
Zoey ground her teeth to keep from responding. His magic and scent wound through her senses, making her want to melt into him.
“Tell me why,” he said, lifting his eyes to hers.
Because I have three weeks without it. “Fuck!”
“Three weeks,” he repeated aloud. “What’re you talking about?”
“It’s none of your business,” she snapped and moved away from his influence.
“It is,” he said icily and took her arm, stopping her.
If his scent was intoxicating, his touch crippled her. Zoey absorbed as much of his magic as possible to keep it from overtaking her better judgment. She’d never won this game with Declan. His heat sank into her clothing and touched her skin the way his body would, if she didn’t move quickly.
“Maybe I need it to kidnap your father again!” she snapped, rallying her anger.
“Or maybe I need it to cheat on you again.”
Zoey yanked away and face him. Emotions collided and jumbled within her. She was caught between a meltdown and sobbing the way she did when she first learnt of his betrayal.
“Is it true?” she managed. “You were drugged?”
“I was.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” More emotion than she wanted came out in the question.
Declan held her gaze. “Why did you really come, Zoey?” he asked, warmth appearing in his features for the first time since he entered. He neared once more, this time cupping her face with one hand.
No part of her wanted to move, but she wasn’t able to control the emotions inside her. “Don’t!” she snapped, pushing him back.
He lowered his hand with pursuing.
“I want to hate you, Declan. I want to carve your heart out with the dullest weapon I can find so you feel what I do. I want to go back and time and make sure I don’t meet you or … fuck I don’t even know!” Her eyes were blurring with tears. Embarrassed, she swiped at them. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”
“What could I have said that you would’ve listened to?” he returned. “You think I didn’t feel everything you went through? You think I don’t care, that letting you go was easy for me either?”
“How the fuck would I know what you felt? It’s not like you’re capable of expressing anything! Your whole life has been living a lie while you wait the right time for some grand plan meant to change the world. Why would I be any different?”
“I do everything in my power to help you, Zoey. I will continue to do that.”
“I don’t want your money or your help, Declan. I want …” She stopped, not about to admit the deep, intimate thought she’d all but banished from her mind.
“You want what I want,” he finished for her. “To wake up every day beside the person you care about.”
“Even if I did, it’s not possible. We’re enemies. You put out the fucking warrants on all of us.”
“Because you kidnapped my father.”
“And you cheated on me.”
They stared at each other. Zoey had the sudden urge to laugh but didn’t, unable to figure out what was funny about her situation.
“I will get you the samples you need,” Declan said. “For a price.”
“Which is …”
“What it always is.” The words hung in the quiet between them.
Zoey’s breath caught.
“If I’m not mistaken, you still owe me anyway.”
She rolled her eyes. “I thought you didn’t want me here.”
“It’s dangerous for both of us.”
“Ah. You don’t take risks.”
“But I will get paid.” The fire of desire lit in his gaze. “Enemies by day, lo
vers by night?” Declan sidled closer once more, unbuttoning his shirt methodically with long, slender fingers to reveal golden skin molded over the sculpted muscles of his chest and abs.
“That never works out, Declan,” Zoey objected. The hot ache of desire bloomed at her core and raced through her, torching her ability to think straight. Her sensitive skin tingled in anticipation of his touch, and she licked her lips nervously, unable to control her reaction. “What happens if I cross your path during daylight?”
“We’ll deal with it.” He paused close enough for their bodies to meet, his magic and scent wrapping around them, at once intoxicating and exhilarating.
“I got shit to do and bad guys to kill,” she said firmly. “I won’t promise every night.”
“Skip a night and find out what happens.” His husky growl sent a shiver of sheer carnal need through her.
“You’re assuming I forgive you, Declan." Zoey sought some piece of her former fury to prevent her from sliding further down the slippery slope leading directly to his bed.
“You didn’t come here for an apology, my little Zoey,” he replied, aware of what her name spoken in his thick Southern accent did to her resistance. “You came here for me.”
Drowning in his dark vanilla scent and the heat of his body, she wasn’t able to recall what exactly made her think a private meeting with him was a good idea. “Okay, so maybe I really can hate you.”
“Hate me in the morning,” he whispered. Leaning in, Declan’s warm lips brushed hers. The consuming fire of an incubus getting ready to claim his soul-mate tore through her. “I want to show you why you’ll be back tomorrow night.”
“Declan.” She whispered her name in anguish, wanting him with inhuman need yet … afraid. “You destroyed me.”
The moment the words left her mouth, he froze. His sex magic retreated suddenly enough to make the air around her several degrees cooler. Zoey gazed up at him, knowing she was too close to begging him to fuck her for her to resist him, if he wanted sex.
For the first time since they met, Declan backed down. He took a step away and then two, his expression a mix of cool detachment and emotion, as if he was trying hard not to feel.
