“Apparently. They made it to the show tonight but either didn’t bother sticking around or are waiting to give me one hell of a surprise.” Kieran’s voice remained dry as his hands balled into fists by his side.
“Want me to stick around?” Renn asked, even though his arm looped around the sorority girl’s waist.
“Nah, it’s fine. Liz will keep me company, right?” He winked at her.
“That’s what you hired me for. Eternal babysitter.” She heaved a dramatic sigh and flounced her arms by her sides. Renn nodded in their direction before peace-ing out the door to get down to the nasty with his new flavor of the night.
“Are we going to head out?” the girl beside Trevor asked, her voice high and grating.
Trevor gave him a sideway glance. “Ace, eh? That a longstanding nickname?”
Kieran leveled him with a murderous look. “Not if you want your balls to remain attached.”
“Touchy, touchy,” Trevor said with a laugh as he swaggered out of the backstage, his girl in tow. Normal night, Kieran would’ve been with them, walking out with his pick from the audience as he replenished his energy. After the shake-up backstage and seeing his brother’s note though, he wasn’t feeling it. Though in pure honesty, he hadn’t been feeling it ever since Liz came on tour with them. Ever since she strolled into their lives, the idea of other women turned him off, like artificial light when he wanted the sun.
“Want to head on back?” he asked as he pushed himself off the ground.
“If that’s a sly attempt to get me into your bed, try harder, babe.” Liz smirked, hopping to her feet.
“Oh, so there is hope.” He grinned, his fangs brushing against his lower lip as he extended his arm.
She shook her head and looped her own through his. “Get a grip, lover boy.”
“I’m told I have a pretty firm one,” he retorted. Her skin against his felt like velvet seduction at its finest, and even the slight contact sent a pulse of excitement traveling straight down. The woman kept her cool at the toughest of times. She never missed a beat in their banter and rarely lost her logic, unlike Kieran, who’d been rolling on gut impulses and explosive emotion from the tender age of always.
As they stepped out of the backdoor, the crisp night breezes brought the scent of cigarette smoke and the salt-soaked air from the rolling tides along the horizon. A broad expanse of stars fought to glow against the purplish clouds congregating in the sky. They walked across the parking lot together, heading for the RV for once, rather than the nearest watering hole.
“Haven’t heard the nickname in some time,” Kieran muttered while they walked. It had been long ago from the bastards who’d left him behind.
“Part of your oh-so-mysterious past?” Liz teased. She nudged him in the side with her elbow as they walked along the lined concrete. “Care to explain the Latin-ish scrawl?”
“Duty to the family,” Kieran said, running his fingers through his hair. “Which is bullshit, because my folks disowned me, which meant Larsen cut me out too. I don’t know why they’d give a damn about me aligning to our Court after that.”
“Aligning?” Liz asked, leaning against him while they walked.
“Seelie or Unseelie—growth or decay. Once you’re of age, you’re supposed to pledge yourself to the side you were born into and participate in the Courts. My folks were high on the food chain too, so they drilled those expectations home. Except the choice can’t be coerced, and me and the guys remained unaligned. Once you’ve committed, you’re stuck doing the bidding of the Seelie or Unseelie ruler, another chess piece on their table.” He stopped with her in front of the RV. From inside, a woman’s screams of ecstasy echoed throughout the place. Kieran gave her the side eye. “Might be better to stay out here for a little bit.”
“Yeah, don’t feel like shouting over Susie in there,” Liz said before dropping to the concrete in front of the entrance. Kieran slipped down with her, disappointed she’d moved away from him. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around her knees and pulling them tight.
“Cold?” he asked.
“I can manage,” came her pert reply.
Kieran shook his head, slipping off his leather and placing it around her shoulders. “Quit being so stubborn.”
“You’re one to talk, rockstar,” she said. Even still, she tugged his leather around her tight to his satisfaction. “So, let me guess, your family aligned with Team Bad Guy, right?”
“Not in the slightest. I come from a long lineage of Seelie incubi and succubi. And let me tell you, they’re the stuffiest motherfuckers you ever did meet.” He sprawled his legs out in front of him and fanned the fabric of his shirt, which stuck to his chest from sweat.
“So, what, is all this dramatic bullshit a result of your brother being unable to pick up the phone and make a call?” Liz joked, nudging his leg with her boot.
Kieran snorted. “Sadly, that sounds too much like them.” He stared at the sky before them, memories floating in like the lavender clouds crowding the moon. His throat dried, causing him to swallow. He didn’t want to remember the cries of the humans they’d kept in closets to feed from or the balls they’d dragged him to as a kid where he watched the true monsters hide behind masks of politeness. Years might make the memories easier to avoid, but every time he recalled the disappointment in their eyes, the phrase ‘failure of the family’ sliced into him fresh.
Until he’d formed Discord’s Desire, he hadn’t understood what being part of a real family meant. Where people gave a shit about what happened to you, not what you meant to their social currency. The guys had provided the home he’d never known.
She nudged at him with her boot again. “No getting all gloomy on me. The nickname narrows it down, so we’ll hit up your brother and tell him to back the fuck off. Case closed.”
A bitter smile hit his lips. “My brother will deny any accusations. My kind are talented at twisting the truth. Unless we caught him in the act with solid proof, the Courts wouldn’t lift a finger. Not much different from your human law enforcement.” He leaned his head against the side of the RV and stared up.
“Not my human anything,” she murmured, staring at her hands. The sadness in her voice, a brief gasp of vulnerability she didn’t share with any of them snared him at once. “I’m not human, I’m not fae, and my own kind—whoever they may be, haven’t come to claim me.” Even though bitterness edged her tone, he caught the sheer agony beneath those words and understood how it felt to always be on the outside.
“You belong here, with us,” he said, his voice deepening with his conviction. Her hazel eyes softened for a moment as she looked at him, and for a moment he saw the Liz O’Brien residing behind all the snarky comments.
A loud scream from the woman inside resounded from the RV, shattering the moment between them. Liz glanced in the direction and rolled her eyes. Sure, he could’ve used more of an injection than the set they’d played tonight, but with the number of gigs Liz lined up for them, he didn’t need to worry about going hungry any time soon. Besides, he’d rather be here beside her than off with some random broad. When he’d gotten tired of the changing faces was beyond him, but he didn’t want that any more. Not when he lived with a beautiful girl whose mere presence never failed to put a smile on his face.
Leaning closer, Kieran slipped an arm around her shoulder.
She twitched in surprise at the contact. Arching an eyebrow, she met his gaze. “Slick, sweetheart, but that doesn’t mean I’m slipping into the sack with you.”
He heaved a sigh, ready to move his arm away as he gave her a reluctant smile. “Chill, babe. The RV’s pretty occupied right now anyway.” Not like he’d ever turn down a night with her, but after their talk, he simply reveled in the nearness right now.
Liz pursed her lips before grabbing his arm and scooting in tighter to him. “Fine, but only because I’m cold.”
Kieran rolled his eyes. He’d take whatever excuse if it meant he got to sit there with her in his
arms. She leaned in, and he pulled her tighter against him, enjoying how her body curved against his. The scent of her mint bodywash wafted his way, beyond delicious. Despite the way she curled against him, the woman remained a contradictory enigma. One moment, she’d be flirting with him, and he’d catch the spark in her eyes, feel the air shift at her arousal—an incubus could always tell. Yet a second later, she’d pull back and retreat, as if she’d stepped past a boundary line he wasn’t aware of.
Right now, he’d bask in the quiet chance he’d been given.
Even though his mind reeled with memories of his family, with concerns for future shows due to the renewed interest from Larsen, and with the burning question of why, he gave up trying to figure it out. Genuine serenity didn’t visit often, and he wouldn’t waste it. So instead, he lost himself in the soft glow of the silver stars, of her gentle, brisk aroma, and the heat of her body curled against his.
****
Liz had passed out hours ago, but Kieran couldn’t sleep. He sat at the half rectangle they called a kitchen table and scribbled lyrics on a pad of paper. After about ten attempts with most of the words scratched out, he placed the pen down.
“Care to discuss the street art left on the wall backstage, brother?” Trevor asked as he loped into the room. The man hadn’t bothered to put his shirt on, wearing a pair of sweats as he snagged a folding chair and took a seat. The girls had taken leave awhile ago, so only the loud resonant sound of Renn’s snoring remained.
“Narrowed it down to the dear old fam.” Kieran shrugged, drawing a swirling doodle onto his notepad while they talked. “But you know how difficult they’ll be to pin down. We need to find a way to trace it to my brother, not just some nickname.”
“Wouldn’t hold up in the slightest.” Trevor nodded. The banshee would get it—he had his own battered past of dealing with the Seelie court, one that left him avoiding their kind at all cost. “We’ll have to do some sleuthing on our own.”
“Joy. Family reunion’s the last thing I want.” Kieran kicked out at the table leg, jostling the pen on the table. “Last I heard they were on the East Coast, so no chance of us running into my folks at least.”
“With that out of the way, let’s have some real talk now.” Trevor turned to face him, those dark, wise eyes honing his way with laser precision.
Kieran quirked a brow but didn’t say anything, waiting for his friend to continue.
“Though you might think we’ve been a mite unaware, we’ve all noticed. What’s the deal with your current vow of chastity?”
Goddamn. Not like what he did wasn’t clear as day, but he wanted to avoid this conversation. “Haven’t been feeling the whole dine and dash thing lately.” He shrugged, hoping Trev would drop it. Yeah right.
“Sure it doesn’t have anything to do with a certain booking manager who’s been touring with us?” Trevor couldn’t contain his wan smile, the bastard.
Kieran restrained the urge to punch the smug grin right off his friend’s face. “You’ll just call me on it if I try to bullshit.” He shrugged, going the honesty route. When it came to owning who he was and what he felt, Kieran rarely stuttered. “Yeah, she’s stunning, but I don’t think she’ll be catching feelings any time soon.”
“Good,” Trevor replied as he leaned against the wall.
Kieran’s brows knitted together at the bluntness in his friend’s tone. “And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It means the lot of us have a shit track record with women, and she’s been a great addition to our group. No need to muddy the waters by trying to pursue something that won’t last. And she needs us. She’s an anomaly amongst her own kind and in danger around ours. Be level with me, Ky. Do you think a human can keep up with your sex drive?”
Though his friend preached all sorts of logic, Trevor’s words burned into his skin like a brand. Their shit track record was legendary, so why would she waste her time with someone like him, someone who his family couldn’t even be bothered to keep?
“Nice to know you think so highly of me,” Kieran spat back, unable to keep the venom from his voice.
“You know it’s not that, Ky.” Trevor clung to his irritating calm, making Kieran want to clock him in the face so much more. Though Trev meant well, he didn’t need the reminder of all the complications that arose between a human and a fae. He didn’t need the reminder he was sentenced to a lifetime alone, hooking up with a different girl every night to keep from turning into a husk.
“Yeah, yeah, looking out for the both of us.” Kieran hopped up from his seat and snagged his notepad. Good intentions or no, he didn’t want another lecture, so Trevor could keep his opinions to himself tonight. “See you in the morning.” He didn’t bother looking back as he walked toward his bunk at the end of the RV. Trevor would want to continue talking, and with the way his blood boiled right now, he’d be more liable to start a knock-down-drag-out brawl than have a reasonable conversation.
He hoisted himself into the top bunk—Trev would crawl into the bottom one whenever he saw fit. Even though he lay there in the darkness with his hands behind his head, sleep would be a long ways away tonight. His blood burned, his thoughts tangled into knots, and the resurgence of his family left a sour taste on his tongue. To top it all off, he couldn’t get Liz off his mind, even though Trevor had been right—he should.
Yet tonight hadn’t been enough, curled side by side with her. Yearning flowed through his veins like an addiction, and the more he contemplated quitting her, the more he wanted to pursue.
Failure to the family, that’s what he brought to the table. A mid-tier band that satisfied his needs, a list of women he’d slept with longer than he ever wanted to count, and now his presence endangered those he cared about. Liz was a smart woman. She’d never in a million years fall for someone like him.
Chapter Five
The hills of San Francisco loomed in the distance, accented by the fog rolling through. The tall skyscrapers of the city paled in comparison to the mark of the Golden Gate Bridge along the water, the peaks of the bridge casting sloping shadows across the highway. Asphalt zoomed by from the window. Jett drove today, so he maxed the RV speeds and raced as fast as possible down the speedway.
She stood by the coffeemaker, willing it to percolate faster. The liquid nectar plunked into the carafe at the slowest possible pace. Snores filtered from the back bunks, but mid-morning sun streamed through the windows with an agenda.
Another show tonight, and yet with Kieran’s not-so-secret admirer sending cronies their way, the normal anticipation soured, turning to anxiousness. Her skin prickled as she took a seat, continuing to glare at the coffeemaker while it chugged along.
The memories of how she’d spent last night sitting with Kieran and watching the stars coursed through her, a contradiction to every logical thought warning her away from him. Instead of his normal blunt flirtatiousness, he’d been open and vulnerable as they’d talked over his family drama. And holy hell, the heady scent of sweat and spice emanating from him had been enough to send her pheromones into overdrive. The man didn’t need any incubus abilities to rev her engine.
The coffeemaker spat out its last hateful drop as it finished brewing. Liz rolled up from her perch the same moment Kieran entered the room. They both stopped where they stood as a tense silence descended between them. Heat flashed in his amber eyes as he scanned her over, even though she slummed it in polka-dot pajama shorts, a battered tank top, and an off-center ponytail.
“Coffee up for grabs?” he asked, to her surprise. She’d grown so used to his flirty comments that the normalcy jarred her after his scorching look.
“Yeah, help yourself.” She lifted the pot after pouring herself a cup. Steam rolled from the piping liquid. When she’d left for bed last night, he’d been calm and at peace despite the shakeup. Yet now, he brimmed with tension, and based on the circles under his eyes, he hadn’t gotten much shuteye.
“Looks like you need it bad this morning,”
she commented. “Rough night?”
He stared into the chipped porcelain mug of coffee for a moment before responding. “You could say that.”
A yawn pierced the air as Trevor ambled in, lifting his arms over his head in a slow stretch. Kieran shot him a dark look upon approach, one Liz didn’t miss.
“Still grumpy?” Trevor asked, settling into a hunch at the red vinyl couch across from her.
Kieran grabbed his mug in one hand as he saluted with the other. “I’m going up front to get some air.” Within moments, he stomped his way to the front of the RV.
Well, now she needed to know what happened. “Lover’s quarrel?” she asked before blowing the steam off the surface of her coffee.
Trevor ran a hand through his chin-length silver strands and heaved a sigh. “You know how it goes any time you tell Kieran what to do.”
Liz snorted before she stopped herself. Kieran proved as predictable as anything in that regard. The most surefire way to get him to do what you wanted was to suggest the opposite. The boy hated following orders on principle.
“He’s got a lot brewing around right now. Do yourself a favor and keep your distance,” he recommended, passing her a knowing look. Apart from the murmur of conversation in the front of the RV, quiet reigned here. The topic of their fight grew crystal clear.
Liz gave a slow nod in response before forcing a half-smile. “Trust me, I don’t do drama. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” She gripped her mug a little tighter, the heat from the piping hot coffee soaking into her palms.
Even as she said it, her stomach flip-flopped. Not like she didn’t want to get tangled with a certain incubus, but ‘want’ and ‘should’ were two very separate things. She’d wanted someone—anyone—to acknowledge she wasn’t crazy. That the mermaids lurking in the depths of the Mississippi were real. However, she learned to keep her mouth shut if she wanted a home. Foster kids who couldn’t play the game got tossed into the spin cycle of a system, and she sure as hell hadn’t wanted to return to St. Catherine’s.
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