by LJ Swallow
Cillian rubs a hand across his mouth as he watches for Donovan's reaction, who asks, "Ewan? Do you mean Pestilence?"
I nod. "The hacker extraordinaire. We know people in groups hidden online trade in rare items. They keep these items away from people like me. Ewan and Vee could look through those."
"No." Dex says firmly. "I'm not getting involved with the Horsemen."
I twist in my chair to look at him. I'm pissed off with his ignoring me and now he's shooting me down? "Why?"
"It's not just Dex who's resistant. The Horsemen don't understand what we are doing here." Donovan leans back in his chair.
"Okay. They might be overseas, anyway. There are big issues in the States right now." I cross my arms, and my chest stabs with panic as my sleeve rides up to reveal the mark. I pull the sleeve down.
"The Horsemen are in England currently," says Morgan.
My mouth falls open. "Are you spying on them too?"
"They spy on us," he retorts. "We're on their list of dodgy supes who need watching."
"As we're Dwellers," puts in Cillian.
I huff. "Yeah, but Xander owes Dex."
A glare as sharp as my best dagger hits me from Dex, and Donovan leans forward, elbows on his desk. "Really? Why's that Dex?"
Nobody talks and I chew inside my mouth in case I say something else wrong.
"Dex?" asks Donovan.
"Nothing important." He huffs. "If Syv thinks Ewan can help, we can ask him."
"I'm sure he will help," I say encouragingly. "I'll call them and arrange a meeting, at a convenient time."
But what I really mean is I'll tell the Four Horsemen I'm coming, and that they'd better help me.
Vee will agree, even if Xander decides to enter non-negotiable arsehole mode.
10
Time spent around three curious, sexy—and, in Dex's case, unpredictable—men would normally be enough to occupy me. But right now, my scrambled head can’t cope.
I'm allowed to walk this wing of the house alone, despite not being a signed-up member of their society. My nosy self peeks into rooms as I head to the library. Most are dormitory style bedrooms like mine. Is this just a base for other Dwellers who work for the organisation? Or a sanctuary for those who need help? Either way, I swear I’m kept separate from others.
I play a game as I continue to the library. I hop from tile to tile and land each time in the symbol's central icon: the eye. On my first night, I took some photos, but the next morning discovered someone had wiped them from my phone's memory.
The worst part about this situation?
Someone was in my bedroom and I never noticed.
Creepy.
The other part of last night jumps into my mind too. Spot lay outside my door. Dex. Did he return and stay there all night? Why? Morgan and Cillian's reactions to my suggestion Spot sleeps in my room makes more sense now. I've considered Dex’s prowess, but a surprise appearance naked in my room wouldn’t have been the best reveal.
I walk into the library and halt, pushed away from my thoughts too. Dex. At a table. Alone.
My footsteps echo in the tall circular room with the domed glass ceiling. The shelves stretch so high I can't imagine how anybody reaches books at the top. Do the librarians here levitate? My fanciful thought dies as I notice a tall ladder in one corner.
Dex looks up, hand on the book in front of him, to hold it open. This time his brown eyes remain fixed on mine. I moisten my lips as I look back, pulse quickening.
How do I feel? Stupid? Relieved? I mean, everybody thought I was insane for caring about a demonic dog. But I recognised good in the huge, dangerous, hulking creature with poisonous saliva.
Okay, maybe I do understand why they labelled me mad.
I told Morgan I trusted Dex the most, when Dex was the one telling me the biggest lie.
"Libraries stink," I blurt.
Dex gives me a puzzled look. "By stink do you mean you hate them, or that they smell?"
I sniff loudly. "Smell. Everything is musty and old in places like this, and the dust from the books chokes me. Not in the same way someone choked me the last time I visited a library, but still unpleasant."
"Someone choked you, why? Did you annoy the librarian by talking too loudly?"
"Ha ha. No. I needed a book from the library and it wasn't available to borrow." I pull out a chair to sit opposite Dex and wince at how the scrape on the floor echoes. "The librarian didn’t like me touching the book."
"You mean you were stealing it?"
I blow air into my cheeks. "Stealing is such a strong term, Dex. Look at things this way: most people I take the items from don't legitimately own them. Often, I repossess them for the rightful owners."
"Very eloquently put, Syv. You may be taking from a different thief, but you're still stealing. You're paid to do it."
"And?"
"Don't you care whether these items are dangerous in the wrong hands?"
"Honestly, most items aren’t worth much apart from to the real owners. Inheritance issues, vampires stealing from each other, that kind of thing. My friend the Collector deserves to take back items stolen from his fae realm." I fix Dex with a hard look. "I never hurt people or put others in danger when I do this. Not unless my life is threatened. What’s wrong with using my skills to make a living? I don’t have any other qualifications."
"And then there're mysterious clients who ask you to collect mysterious packages?"
"Sometimes, I make mistakes." I suck on my teeth. "So, Spot, mind telling me what your deal is?"
Dex's amusement drops quicker than I bet his jeans did earlier. "No deal."
"You lied to me."
"No, I just didn't tell you who I was." He fights a smile. "Besides, when I'm a hound I can't tell you much, can I?"
"That's not the point. I've come across weird shit in my life. A lot. Telling me you're a demon shifter wouldn't be the weirdest."
"I wasn't sure how you'd react, or if you'd change your mind about helping us."
"Why would who you are change my mind? A 'thank you' would be nice by the way."
"For what?"
I balk. "The Horsemen wanted to kill you! I stepped in and helped. Why did you run away the next morning?"
"You just said why: Xander and Ewan plotting my death."
We lapse into silence and share one of those awkward moments when each person tries to figure out what the other is thinking. Dex's face is often obscured by his hair, shining brown eyes beneath watching the world carefully. Now I'm closer, I notice a scar running from his ear and down along his neck, and I swear I saw white lines like old scars on his back earlier. I'm unsure how gentleness co-exists with his bulk, but it radiates from him when he looks at me.
"This has annoyed me all day." Dex licks his large thumb, and I watch his mouth, heart stuttering as he reaches out to my cheek. As he wipes, the movement is firm, dragging the skin to one side. Smacking a guy in the mouth is my usual response to uninvited touching, but I'm immobile beneath his.
Dex withdraws his thumb and looks at a brown smudge. "Dirt from earlier."
"Oh well, at least that mark can be rubbed off," I say in a light tone.
"Drop the bravado." He wipes his thumb on his jeans, then reaches out to curl a hand around mine. The size completely surrounds mine as we hold hands on the library desk.
Is this deliberate? I'm cross with Dex and need answers, but instead, he's trying to win me over.
Seriously, I shouldn't be attracted to a man who is also a dog. Hound. Shifters were never my thing—I can't get my head around why people find them appealing lovers. They’re animals in their spare time. Ugh.
Dragging my hand away to escape the situation, I shove my chair back and gesture around me. "Which shelf did you get your book from? I'll look for another."
"Four across, fifth shelf high." He points, then shifts his focus back to the book on the table.
Two other people huddle together in the library corner—a man and a woman p
oring over a desk covered in books. They look up as I pass, but barely register me. How many people live and work here? I've hardly seen any.
I reach the shelf Dex indicated and my neck cricks as I look for a gap between two books. I'm still an arm’s length from the shelf, even tiptoeing.
Where's the nearest ladder?
"I knew you couldn't reach." Dex's smooth tones come from behind me—too close, as his presence shivers across my scalp and down my spine to my toes. When Dex reaches past me towards the shelf, his scent washes over me.
Not dog-like.
At all.
A mix of subtle soap and stronger tones—a sharp herbal and woody smell that triggers the desire to press my nose into his neck and inhale. As he takes hold of the book, his hips brush mine and the shiver becomes a sharp sensation, tightening my stomach and flooding my body with warmth.
I'm not one for falling into a guy's arms, but I'd welcome the chance to explore Dex.
He looks down at me, book in hand, and his pupils dilate as he explores my face. "You're pink. I didn't realise the library was hot."
My dry mouth waters as I look at his lips. Oh hell, this is not good. I'm not a saint and indulge my needs when I have a chance worth taking, but I'm rarely attracted to a guy so suddenly and overwhelmingly. Especially not one I was pissed off with minutes ago.
"Is it a demon thing?" I ask.
"Is what a demon thing?"
My eyes widen. Shit, I said that out loud. "Uh. The book." Not the fact you make me want to drag you into a quiet area, behind some shelves, and take a closer look at what I saw before.
"No. Enochian, like Donovan recommended. I've flicked halfway through one book and nothing. Perhaps the others will have more clues."
"Perhaps."
"Are you okay? You're looking at me weird."
"I'm still struggling with the dog/man/demon thing."
He rubs a large palm across his face. "I understand. Sorry."
"Why didn't you let me know the first time we met? I took you to the barn at the Horsemen's house. We were alone."
"You mean the time you rambled about your life to a dog?"
I swallow. Crap. He remembers my verbal diarrhoea about life, the universe and everything. "Uh. Yeah. People talk to their pets about their worries, don't they?"
Dex shifts closer and puts an arm on the shelf above my head where I stand sideways facing him. He lowers his voice. "I’m not your pet, Syv."
"You'd be upset if I called you Spot?" My joke comes out hoarsely, heart banging in my chest at how close he is. There's a scar on his lip too, a barely visible transparent line along the top, one I fight reaching out to touch.
He drags fingers through my hair, untangling where I still haven't brushed out from earlier. Man, he needs to stop touching me. "I watched you. After everything you told me in the barn, I followed you."
"Creeper." His face darkens. "I'm joking!"
"That afternoon in the barn, you told me how scared you were that the god was looking for you. You sounded desperate, and I sensed the fear in you."
"I remember. I sat on the floor and you put your muzzle on my leg."
He chuckles. "And you stroked my head." Dex runs a hand across my hair to demonstrate, the touch soothing. I close my eyes and he moves until his cheek touches my head, warm breath against my scalp. "At that moment, I vowed to myself that I'd always keep you safe. I owed you my life. Now, I will protect yours."
"That isn't necessary." Again, the stupid croaky voice.
He pulls away and cups my face. "I once served someone who forced me to do everything they requested. I vowed this would never happen again, but I feel a great debt to you."
"Wow. Um. Okay." I swallow, enjoying his rough hand against my burning cheek but not enjoying his strange speech.
"You intrigue me, Syv. Animals sense emotions and pheromones. Yours are causing me a problem right now."
My breath catches and I dart a look behind him at the people sitting nearby. Still engrossed, they pay no attention to the sexually charged encounter happening a few feet away.
"Don't you dare tell me you won't be able to control yourself," I mutter. "I've met shifters before and I don't stand for any of that alpha shit."
Dex runs his tongue slowly across his bottom lip. "I'll bear that in mind for the future. I can keep control. But can you?"
I straighten, ready to retort. Hell, when the future he's hinting at arrives, I don't know if I will. As he drops his hands and steps back, I drag in a breath.
What did the warlock say I should spend time doing? "Do you like watching Netflix?"
When his response is a face filled with confusion, I take the book from him and head to the desk, snickering to myself.
11
There are two sides to the fae living amongst the humans. Those who respect the fae court authority, who blend in, and those who don’t like their lives ruled. The fae have lived here hundreds of years, their society established within the human one. Humans unaware their neighbours and work colleagues are a different race. The fae skills at manipulation and confusion, coupled with their magic, help keep their world a secret if questions are asked.
You find plenty in law enforcement—and they make the best lawyers. If I ever need representation, I know who I’ll ask.
Over time, this blending led to fae-human hybrids and a newer fae generation who don’t accept royal rule. The arrogant, self-serving race are going through political turmoil right now, which makes things more complicated. This spilled over recently in the UK, when fae queen Portia refused to cooperate with the Horsemen and her court split into two factions. Portia hangs onto her authority by her fingernails. Logan’s and her other rivals have unclear motives and could be allying with the Order.
Beneath the infighting, an underclass exists. These fae would rather hide from the world and exclude themselves from everybody but their own race. They’ve no interest in humans or politics and are no threat. This element have one main place they hang out.
La Fee Verte.
Once over, I visited this hidden club to escape the politics happening in my life. Demons and the Order could never decide whether to accept or reject me. My poor magic skills make me useless to their cause—not that I'm interested in any cause. The only cause I ever helped with was the end of the world. But I was dragged into that by association, not choice. Now I live here.
I'm still debating whether to move into the guys' secret base. I mean, the place beats living upstairs in a dingy fae club. They're also putting time into helping me when they could leave me to find the answer alone.
I'm valued, and that's new.
Sure, Col treats me as important, but he's hardly sociable. The Horsemen are friendly occasionally too, but when they need my help.
One day, I'll discover people in my life who want me for more than skills I offer them. This involves allowing them close enough, and I'm too worried about peoples' motives. Hell, most I come across either get their hands around my throat or threaten me with weapons and magic. Gives a girl trust issues.
I never expected to find sanctuary in an attic room above the club but between jobs I spend the majority of time in the bar area anyway. At La Fee Verte, I have friends who I can relax with after a few drinks. If I've had a really stressful assignment, sometimes I'd take a fae magic hit. The biggest dealer, Mac, disappeared a few months ago. Dead? Who knows. I have his room, so hopefully he won't be back in a hurry.
I stand at the bar and watch the door through the gloom, ready for the Four Horsemen's arrival. Mid-morning equals less customers, although I did spend time trying to escape my fae friend Rory's latest complaints about some human chick who rejected him. I expect the girl became sick of his spending more time preening in the bathroom than her. Either that or she wasn't a girl to be manipulated by fae traits. Fae should stick to their own kind—I know that from personal experience.
The club’s lower floor resembles a normal human bar with tables and chairs crowded to
gether. But there’s no pool table. No music. Rarely any chatter. Instead, fae sit within the dark-painted breezeblock walls, where pipes run across the ceiling, and lose themselves in the shadows.
This area sees magic traded and blind eyes turned.
Cillian and Morgan wait at a table for me to return with the drinks. Dex refused to come, a decision made easier by the fact only two Horsemen are prepared to join us. They don't like being outnumbered, so I'm not surprised when Vee walks through the door with Xander and Ewan.
As always, they bring with them an engulfing presence. Not only because these tall, attractive men stand out amongst the fae, but because rumours about their new powers spread and scared people. Xander’s light brown hair is arranged in the usual spiked fringe, the constantly held suspicious look on his perfect face. He’s a solid guy, but his build doesn’t match Ewan’s. Ewan was once the tallest, bulkiest guy I’d met—aside from thick-headed demons. Until Dex, who’s half a foot taller and broader.
Vee is flanked between Ewan and Xander, but the tall girl doesn’t need their protection. She may look delicate, but this person holds more power than everybody in this bar added together. Including power over the two men with her and the other absent Horsemen.
The voices in the quiet bar drop several decibels as the three pause in the entrance. Xander stands, arms crossed, as he surveys the room. Vee spots and waves at me, before striding over. I shuffle away in case she hugs me.
"Syv. I heard what's happening. I promise we'll do everything we can to help." Her reassuring smile and words perk up my day. If Vee asked her boys to help, they will.
As suspected, she reaches out to me and I flinch. "Yeah. Cheers. Drink?"
She shakes her head. "Not after last time we spent drinking. I need a clear head."
"Aw, c'mon, you're my only female drinking companion."
"Sorry, Syv, I'm not about to bow to peer pressure from a demon." She cocks a brow. Vee's joking, but the demon remark still stings. The bad guys. The troublemakers. The ones who sunk straight back into their old ways once the homicidal god disappeared.
