Acts of Mercy

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Acts of Mercy Page 13

by Ciara Graves


  Goblins trying to kill me and the fact that I only had four more nights to track down Liam before Damian took his rage out on me.

  That’s it. That’s all I needed to concentrate on.

  A bright white flash of light blinded me, and I shot up on the unfamiliar couch, holding my head and cursing.

  Never before did I have this nightmare so often, but now it was visiting me more and more. And it was pissing me off and ruining what should’ve been a good night’s sleep.

  Rafael’s apartment was dark. No lights on anywhere. At least he wasn’t standing in the kitchen watching me, making sure I didn’t try to use the weapons he’d given back to me reluctantly. They were safely tucked away under the couch.

  After dinner, I’d called Gigi, and once I got her calmed down from freaking out about my having been missing, she agreed to come by the Fed's place tomorrow evening after he got home from the office.

  I’d giggled to myself a bit madly.

  I sounded like I was stuck in some sitcom, waiting for my demon husband to get home from work. Except, instead of making him dinner, we were going to go hunt down a mage. And I was nothing like the stay at home wife type. Not even close. That was laughable. I was hardly ever at my own place.

  And why was I even thinking this anyway?

  I rubbed my face vigorously as I swung my legs over the side of the couch. At least my host was gracious enough to offer me shorts to sleep in, instead of my leather pants. I had a tank on underneath my other shirt at least, so I wasn’t wearing all his clothes.

  That weird fluttering started in my stomach again, and I angrily pushed to my feet.

  “None of this means anything,” I whispered to myself, completely annoyed. “He’s the first male you’ve been alone with in years. That’s all it is, so just stop while you’re ahead.”

  Gigi was right. I needed to get out more. Date someone, anyone, so I would stop daydreaming about the first attractive male I met. Who, I had to remind myself, didn’t even know the truth about me. Or why I was hunting down Liam. I knew when we found the bastard, Rafael would arrest him and take him in.

  The second I stole him away to turn in for the bounty, he’d hate me for it. Neither one of us could trust the other, and yet he was still trying to keep me alive. It couldn’t all be because he needed my help, right? No, the smart thing to do would’ve been for him to leave me after he got what he wanted from Wesley. There’d been no logical reason to bring me back to his place. None, unless he actually maybe found me attractive.

  “Ha. Yeah, right,” I whispered as I walked quietly into the bathroom and shut the door.

  His room was right next door, but I heard nothing when I’d passed his closed door.

  “No one could ever like you, not really.”

  Unless of course, it was Rufus—a goblin! Blech!—or Bowen, who I still couldn’t figure out.

  I pushed aside the blanket covering the mirror and glared at the scar.

  For so many years, I wore the thing like armor. Using it as a reminder of why I had to be strong all the time. Why I was the only one who could keep myself safe. My parents had failed to keep me out of harm’s way, had failed to keep themselves alive. The rest of my family was the same. But I wouldn’t be. There was no one I could ever trust with my life. Not really. No, it all had to fall to me. Anything else was just a fantasy.

  I dried my face after splashing water on it to clear away the rest of the nightmare, then replaced the blanket over the mirror, and exited the bathroom.

  I wasn’t looking where I was going and jumped when I walked right into a very strong and naked chest. Hands grabbed my arms to keep me from falling backward.

  I raised my eyes, and they locked onto a subtly glowing red pair.

  “Sorry,” I murmured.

  Rafael’s hands stayed right where they were, and belatedly I realized mine were flat against his chest. A very warm, smooth chest. I expected him to shove me away with a growl, but there, in the darkness of his apartment, in the middle of the night, he seemed to almost want to keep me right where I was.

  Breathing slowly, my hands smoothed over his chest and up to his shoulders.

  He stiffened for a second then relaxed, letting out a heavy breath through his nose.

  My fingers took in every bit of him as they went.

  My brow furrowed slightly when I felt puckered skin in a few places.

  Scars.

  As my hands trailed down his shoulders to his biceps, his chest rose and fell more rapidly, as did mine.

  Had no one ever touched him like this? Who was I kidding? When was the last time I had anyone hold me in his arms as gently and as protectively as he was now? That was a never.

  I was too used to supes trying to kill me, not keep me close like this, just because.

  Somehow, I found myself even closer to him and the warmth radiating off his body reminded me of the night he sat behind me on the bike. Or at the ball when I kissed him, and he returned the favor.

  The sudden want to have him hug me close like that again was overwhelming, and I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from doing just that.

  His hands were moving now, gliding effortlessly along my arms, then lower. When his large palms rested on my hips, my breath caught, and I pressed my own palms to his back—

  Then stopped.

  I moved my hands again, eyes narrowing then widening as I realized what I was feeling.

  Rafael snarled in my face.

  The next thing I knew, his hand was around my neck as he slammed me back into the wall.

  “Don’t,” he rumbled roughly. His grip didn’t choke me, but the threat was real enough.

  “Don’t what?”

  He blinked furiously then glanced at his hand around my throat and stepped back, shaking his head as he growled louder. “Mercy, I—uh… I’m sorry. That was… I’m sorry,” he muttered, then disappeared back into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

  Part of me said I should be terrified of what just happened. How easily he could’ve snapped my neck, but the regret in his eyes said it wasn’t completely him.

  Those scars on his shoulders, they’d felt normal, but the ones on his back, those were something else entirely.

  Scars caused by magic left a different type of change to the skin. It wasn’t visible, but the scars had a texture to them. A strange sensation that there was leftover magic buried in the skin.

  Every scar on his back was like that, at least all the ones I touched before he freaked out.

  There was definitely more to this demon, and despite my better judgment, I found myself curious to figure out what happened to him.

  And to see if there was a way I could get past that wall and pick up where we left off, knowing full well it would only end badly for both of us.

  Chapter 13

  Rafael

  My alarm went off at six, and I got up, expecting to find Mercy had disappeared during the night. But when I poked my head out of my room, she was passed out on the couch. I half hoped last night had all been a dream, but I knew better. Running a hand through my hair, I quietly stepped into the living room to make sure I hadn’t done anything worse than shove her away from me. Aside from looking cold, she appeared well enough. I tugged the throw blanket off the chair and gently draped it over her, then went about getting ready for the office.

  I planned on going in early, so I could duck out by four and get back to my place in time for this witch friend of hers to come over. A mage and a witch. Never did I imagine having those two races inside my apartment. Ever. Or feeling sympathy for a mage. At least, that’s what I told myself it was.

  I nearly found myself calling into the office, so I could stay home and sort through the strange emotions sifting through me and throwing me off. She’d been so close to me again last night, so very close. The scent of apples lingered in my nose long after I finally forced myself to leave.

  All morning long, after I settled in at my desk, I searched for cases on
missing donors. Majority registered with the city, so they could be tracked in case they were ever wrongly treated or killed by those they worked for. I hadn’t heard of too many missing, but the deeper into the system I dug, the more that turned up.

  Most of them were human, but there were a few supes. Those were more recent. If Mercy hadn’t been at the ball that night, Iris would’ve been amongst them. Finding the files kept me distracted from the other thoughts invading my mind. Also kept me from dealing with Iris who was busy tracking down any leads on tips that had been called in.

  A ton of people claimed they spotted Liam after Nor decided to put out a bulletin on him. I was more than happy to let her deal with the rumors and give me some space. Lying to her the last two days had been hard enough, but no one could know the bounty hunter was staying at my apartment.

  Or about what happened last night.

  My fingers stilled on the keyboard, remembering Mercy’s hands against my chest. They’d been warm and comforting in a way Iris’s touch had never been. I’d wanted her to stay right where she was. Hell, I’d wanted to lift her up, so I could kiss her, and that was the strangest impulse of all.

  Never had I been so lost in a moment with someone I wanted to let the rest of the world fall away. But there, in the middle of the night, I’d nearly done it.

  Until Mercy found the scars on my back, and the second she did, I saw the realization in her eyes. Instinct had reared its ugly head, and the rage nearly came out. I could’ve so easily seriously hurt her, but somehow, I managed to get back in my room and lock the door.

  If she was gone by the time I got home, I wouldn’t blame her. Though fear had not been one of the emotions in her eyes right before I shut her out. Curiosity, yes. And confusion. And something else I couldn’t put my finger on yet.

  “Any luck?” Nor asked.

  I jumped. I hadn’t even seen him approach.

  “Rafael?”

  “Sorry, didn’t sleep well.”

  “You’ve been like this all week.”

  “Happens. And yeah, some luck with the missing person cases.”

  Nor walked around my desk, peering at the screen. “Donors? You think they’re linked to Liam?”

  “One of the sources I tracked down with a connection to Liam mentioned something about donors,” I lied. “Been combing through the files since Monday, finally getting some good hits. Recent ones, too.”

  “You going to follow up on them?”

  “Yes. See what I can find out. Maybe we’ll get something to lead us to where Liam’s been hiding out, where he might’ve taken these donors to.”

  “If it’s him,” Nor added. “But until you get anything else, it’s a start. And Iris?”

  “What about her?”

  “Just want to make sure your partner is working out still. That you’re utilizing her.”

  “Of course, sir,” I replied.

  “Good. Then I look forward to seeing what you two find out from these files.”

  I nodded, not wanting to lie again to Nor’s face and watched him walk off. Iris would not be going with me to check out anything. No, that would be Mercy. If she was at my place when I got home this afternoon.

  The rest of the day went by too damned slow and by the time four rolled around, I grabbed the files I needed, shoved them in my bag, and hurried for the elevator, not giving Iris a chance to even realize I was heading out. She’d figure it out soon enough and probably call me a few times tonight to yell at me for avoiding her again. As I finally made it back to my place, I hesitated outside the door.

  A voice in the back of my mind said Mercy would be gone and I’d never get a chance to figure out what this strange connection I felt to her was all about. If it was all in my head. A one-time thing. Or if there was more to this half-mage with cursed magic. That in itself should’ve been enough for me to back off. Usually was. Took Iris a long time to convince me she wasn’t going to use her magic on me, though a time or two her siren voice came out. Not that it ever worked.

  But Mercy, she was the complete opposite of Iris. Sarcastic, blunt, had a wicked sharp tongue, and had to be the most attractive woman I’d ever met, scar and all. It wasn’t hard to figure out she did not see herself that way when she should. None of that mattered, though, not if I couldn’t keep my rage in check.

  I opened the front door, holding my breath, and let it out the second I saw Mercy on the couch, sitting cross-legged, eating pizza and drinking a beer. She glanced up at the sight of me and gave me a crooked grin.

  “Hey, I ordered in since you have nothing in this apartment.”

  “Haven’t gone to the store yet,” I explained. Going to the store seemed like such a waste of time at the moment, but I’d used up pretty much all I had to make dinner last night.

  “Well, now we have pizza. Bring home anything useful? Been bored out of my mind all day.”

  “Figured you would’ve been calling all your contacts.”

  “Calling them? I don’t have their numbers. I usually just show up, and they either tell me what I want, or I find a way to persuade them.” She picked at the cheese on her current slice, frowning. “Did call the Wailing Siren though. Spoke with Shep and Bowen. Shep is pissed that Wesley’s gone missing and Bowen said Rot is on the hunt for me.” She set the pizza down, her face paling as she added, “So, uh, thanks and all for letting me stay here. Probably kept me alive.”

  Unable to think of what to say in reply, I mumbled something about changing into more comfortable clothes, and I’d be back out in a minute. I had to talk to her about what happened last night. Apologize if nothing else. The fact she was still here meant she wasn’t too upset with me at least. Or scared. Rot might be after her, but she could’ve taken her chances anywhere else. Instead, she decided to remain here with the demon who nearly strangled her because she touched his scars. Scars Iris never saw or knew about. No one saw me without a shirt, ever. And no one was supposed to see those scars on my back.

  As for Mercy, the look on her face said she knew exactly what they were.

  Because they matched the scar on her face. Scars caused by dark magic meant to cause agony. Meant to kill. Yet we both survived to tell the tale.

  Something told me getting her to explain what gave her a scared face would be as hard as my confiding in anyone about a past I simply wanted to forget.

  Back in the living room, I drew out the files I brought from the office and set them on the table. “Mercy, about last night—”

  “No,” she said quickly. “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Apologize or anything. Don’t start opening up to me.”

  “I wasn’t going to,” I growled.

  “Oh, no? Well, that’s how it starts. You apologize, I say I understand, then you or I start talking and then all the shit we try to hide from the world comes out before we can stop it. And we’re not in this relationship to be friends.”

  The way she said it had me doubting every single word, but then she was rambling on again.

  “You’ve been through some shit. So have I. We both hate magic, so let’s just leave it at that. We’re only working together long enough to find Liam. That’s it. Nothing else.”

  She was right, so why did my mind flash to last night, right before my freak out? Why did my hands suddenly want to find her hips again and finish what we started? See what kissing her would be like. She was all fire and passion, and anger.

  I gave myself a little shake and went to grab a beer, giving myself a few minutes to get my head in order.

  “Rafael?”

  “No. You’re right. Never happened,” I said as I returned.

  She frowned slightly at my words, but agreed. “So, these files. They’re all missing donors?”

  “Most were human. A few more recent ones were supes,” I explained, then gave her a more in-depth rundown.

  She smirked when I mentioned something about Iris almost being next, and I knew she was in full agreement with me.
But there was no gloating once she got into the files again.

  “You see something?”

  “Maybe,” she mused, flipping open a few of the human ones. “These five all went to the same college, same year… stayed in the same dorm building, too.”

  “You think someone knew them all, dragged them into this mess?”

  “It’s possible… Here,” she said, pointing to the picture of a brunette with glasses. “She became a donor six months ago and disappeared last month during the full moon.”

  I took the file and checked the address. “Her family doesn’t live too far from here.”

  “Guess we have plans tonight after all.”

  “You want to go there? And do what?” I asked skeptically. “If her parents do agree to talk to us, seeing as we’re supes, you can’t just torture them if they refuse to answer.”

  “I never would think of torturing a human in front of a Fed,” she said lightly. “Scaring them shitless isn’t off the table though.”

  I glowered at her.

  She sighed. “What? We need answers. And who knows, whatever they tell us might help us find their daughter alive. We could bring her back home.”

  “How about you let me do the talking?”

  “Fine, party pooper,” she muttered and drank her beer.

  I was going to start laying out a plan when a knock sounded at the door. Iris. It had to be her. I got up and answered it, but a woman in a bright pink dress was there, wearing a cheerful smile.

  The second I took a breath, the magic coming off her in waves slammed into me, and I snarled.

  “Witch!”

  “Yes. Yes, I am,” she replied, her smile not faltering despite my growling.

  “Gigi?”

  “Mercy!” The witch shoved past me and hugged Mercy, asking her a thousand questions one right after the other about what happened and why she was staying at my place.

  Mercy tried to answer, but her friend kept talking over her, then turned around and shot me a glare so intense, it had me staggering back a step.

  I rumbled, planting my feet as my hands curled into fists, my anger right on the edge.

 

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