The second those claws swiped for him, Kieran dove in, slicing down the sides for every spare tendril his knife touched. Right as he ducked in, the claws sank into flesh, sending a searing pain wracking through him. However, once those remaining tendrils dropped with a wet slap to the ground, the creature’s grip faltered, and it trembled where it stood. He didn’t waste any time. Up close and personal, he took advantage and plunged the knife right through the scaled ribcage, slipping straight through to pierce the creature’s insides.
With a howl, it leapt away from him, but rather than heading in Liz’s direction, it took off at a dead run toward the sea. Before Kieran followed it, the finfolk disappeared into the froth and pulse of the tides as they swelled toward the shore.
His hand balled into a fist as he slammed the tip of his knife into the soaked sand. The swirl of the tides came to wrap around his legs, and he ran the blade through the saline water before jamming it into its sheath. Footsteps pounded behind him followed by her soft scent of citrus mingling with the breeze. Liz’s hand rested on his shoulder, a slight motion that tightened when he didn’t jump in surprise.
“Hey.” Her voice broke through the static of the rolling tides. “We should head to the RV.”
Kieran heaved a sigh, knowing she was right. Even though he healed faster than a human, he’d sustained enough wounds to keep him from being tip top until his next show. Sure, if he found a human to sleep with, he could heal up tonight, but he wouldn’t risk the powerful tension between him and Liz over a little pain.
“Unless you need to go trolling for some tail,” Liz said, letting go of his shoulder as she straightened beside him. He swore she read minds. “That’s how your kind heals, right?”
“Doesn’t hurt much.” Kieran shrugged, hiding his wince as the tattered fabric of his shirt brushed against the raw wound. “Let’s head back to the RV anyway—it couldn’t hurt to throw some disinfectant on these burns.” When he glanced over to Liz, her arms were crossed and one brow quirked as if she saw right through his bullshit, but she didn’t push. If the guys were around, they wouldn’t take no for an answer, throwing some girl at him who’s name he’d forget once he heard it.
He grabbed his leather, which he’d tossed to the ground the moment the battle began. By some miracle, the poison hadn’t eaten through the fabric. The worn jacket saw him through countless bar brawls, and he would’ve been pissed if one of his brother’s cronies messed it up. Even though he longed to return to the moment before the finfolk approached from the depths of the sea, the subtle magic that had threaded through the air dissipated, and Liz donned her mask again. The woman avoided vulnerability like a diabetic dodged sugar.
“Are you sure we can’t send your brother a sternly worded letter about keeping his henchmen in check?” Liz joked while they walked toward the boardwalk. The second they neared the weathered planks, streetlights came into view. The dim lights cast a stale yellow hue onto the path they walked along, and the remaining crowds lingered by open doors at bars. Loud vocals with some preening guitar strains blared as they passed by live cover bands, while other places set their radios to top volume.
“Either my brother’s bored, or he’s jealous. The man has two settings when it comes to me, and so my choices narrow to finding a better diversion for him. Nothing is more dangerous than a bored fae.” Kieran ran a hand through his tangled hair, trying not to grit his teeth when his injured shoulder muscles bunched together and delivered raw prickles of pain.
“What about taking the other route?” Liz asked. He glanced her way, waiting for her to continue. “You know,” she said, “shaming him so totally in his social circle he won’t have these cronies to throw your way. Revenge is a package best delivered with a live grenade.”
He snorted, shaking his head. “Otherworld be damned, you’re a vicious little thing.”
“Folks don’t underestimate me twice.” She shrugged, though her lips curled in one seductive grin. They veered away from the bars and the lights, heading along a darker stretch of boardwalk toward the parking lots where they’d stationed the RV. With the night in full fervor, the rest of the band would be back at the bar watching Renn try to simultaneously hook up with the three ladies he’d been chatting up. Not like Kieran minded—he’d take any time alone he got with Liz.
She scampered ahead of him, her stride fast as her Keds slammed against the pavement. The number of cars died down from the full flush inhabiting the parking lot earlier, casting their dingy tan home on wheels in a lonelier light. Her keys jangled from the lanyard she kept tucked into her pocket as she flung open the door to the bus.
Liz glanced at Kieran. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” she said, crooking her finger toward him. The motion went straight south, and he let out a low groan as his erection sprung to attention. Not just her husky voice, but the leonine grace to her every move pushed him to the brink. He’d roped off in the shower more times than he wanted to count, and he wasn’t sure how much more of this torment he could take.
The steps creaked as he sank hard into them. Once he closed the door behind him and bypassed the driver’s seat, he tossed his leather onto one of the seats bolted to the wall. Liz made her way straight to the bathroom, and after a couple of rattling noises came from inside, she emerged holding a roll of gauze and a bottle of antiseptic promising to sting like hell.
“Never knew you were into the sadomasochistic stuff, sweetheart.” Kieran winked at her as he reached out for the gauze in her hands. She pulled it back, away from him, and tilted her head towards the empty seat he’d thrown his leather on.
“Sit,” she directed, in a tone brooking no arguments.
Kieran slumped into the seat, barely aware of the way his injuries stung—his focus remained on her. “I like it when you boss me around.” He smirked, leaning back in the seat while his legs opened wide. His erection strained the fabric of his jeans, but he left enough room to keep it from being too obvious. Life as an incubus taught him real fast the optimal way to manage those sorts of things.
“Yeah, we’ll see how much you like it once we get started.” She kept the same matter of fact tone even though she fought with a smile. After she cut off a piece of gauze and doused it in rubbing alcohol, her eyes skimmed over his shirt. She heaved a weary sigh. “Do I need to ask?”
“Not in the slightest.” Kieran couldn’t keep the heat out of his voice as he slipped off his shirt in one liquid motion. She leaned in with the soaked gauze, close enough to touch, to kiss. Her clean citrus scent wrapped around him, setting his veins on fire.
A second later, excruciating pain followed. He gritted his teeth as she pressed the swab into the first graze, saturating the wound in disinfectant. Those hazel eyes of hers darkened in intensity while she worked on cleaning his wounds with a perfunctory readiness. Not like he’d expected flinching from the steel woman.
“You’re awfully quiet.” Her voice broke through after a few minutes of silence. “Don’t tell me a couple of scratches have you down and out?” she teased him.
“Oh, the pain. The agony.” Kieran delivered in a monotone.
“Good,” she said, not looking up from the imprint along his abs as she dabbed it down. “Serves you right for being stubborn and hurling yourself into danger.”
Kieran’s brows lifted. “Are you kidding me? Who’s the one who wouldn’t run the hell away like she was asked? The creature showed up for me, and you put yourself into harm’s way.” Heat rushed through him right as the pins and needles from the disinfectant sizzled against his raw skin.
“Yeah, but you’re the one who’d be missed, rockstar. I’m some human nobody.” Even though she smirked, her words rang hollow, and his stomach twisted something fierce. Those words repeated too many times in his own head. Bypassing the pain of his wounds, Kieran reached out, closing the distance between them as he placed his fingers under her chin to direct her eyes to him. His blood blazed at the hint of vulnerability she blinked away as her gaze turned to steel.
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“Don’t you ever say that,” he hissed, heat flooding into his words. “You’re one of the most remarkable women I’ve ever met, and you can guarantee your absence would be missed. You belong here, Liz, and I’ll always do anything in my power to make sure that doesn’t change.”
She blinked for a moment as if stunned by the strength of his reaction.
Kieran didn’t regret a moment of it though. The woman might keep a level head to her, and her control over her emotions put his to shame any day, but he’d watched her enough to realize when truth and fears ringed her words. He’d seen the sharpening in her eyes and heard the hitch in her breath. He would do anything to stave away the same loneliness that sliced into him year after year.
The tension between them grew like it had before, and as she pulled the gauze away from him, her wrist went limp. He caught her gaze on him and didn’t look away, meeting the challenge. The tip of her tongue darted to trace her rose lips, the mere sight enough to make him pant. He leaned forward, hell bent on making his own claim.
The RV door slammed open with a bang.
“Ky, you get back here?” Jett’s louder than average voice echoed through the place.
Like a startled deer, Liz stepped away at once, and the moment shattered.
Kieran rifled a hand through his hair, letting out a low groan. “I’m here, you asshole,” he shouted.
Liz made quick work of tossing the used bandage into the trash, and she headed toward the bathroom with the remaining gauze. As she walked away, the swing of her hips in those tight jeans dosed him with desire. Tonight, taming his beast would be hell.
Chapter Nine
As the sunset dimmed to night outside the RV window, instead of getting ready for another of Discord’s Desire’s gigs in San Fran, Liz tugged on a rented dress and dolled herself up for the Cinderella ball of her nightmares. Not only did she feel ridiculous shuffling through the matted carpeting of the RV in this floor length champagne sheath dress, but her stomach twisted at the thought of the hordes of fae swarming around this soiree. A girl didn’t spend her years avoiding danger to all of a sudden thrust herself in the middle of shark infested waters.
Yet that’s what she would be doing tonight.
After applying another wave of mascara with her magic wand and wiping away a few flecks staining her cheeks, she slunk out of the bathroom, not ready to put on the cruel heel contraptions the dress place suggested. A few stray strands of hair tickled her nape, but she’d managed to tame most of her chestnut hair into a loose chignon tucked to the side. Rustles and slams sounded from the guys attempting to get dressed, as if a fight club had broken out in the middle of the RV.
She stepped out of the bathroom to dodge Jett skidding back with a wide grin on his face as Kieran lobbed a fist in his direction. Which placed her right in the line of fire.
His fist stopped a whisper away from her face, and he froze in place with his gaze locked on her. “Damn, girl,” he murmured, lowering his hand as his eyes smoldered. “You look edible.”
“Can I go a minute without babysitting?” Liz folded her arms over her chest, choosing to ignore the silent thrill his flattery sent through her. Kieran flashed her one of those megawatt grins that made women swoon, though she’d become immune to the charm early on. Unlike her, the boys got to wear their ripped-up jeans, leather jackets, and ten-hole stompers. Even at a swanky affair, they were hired as Discord’s Desire, which entailed a certain image.
Jett wove an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in tight, and the scent of whatever expensive cologne he wore wrapped around her. He donned an open black button-down and wifebeater, and he’d run product to spike the shorter strands of his ebony hair, adding to the jaded mystique that worked for him on stage. “Didn’t you see babysitter in the fine print of your contract when we hired you?” he teased, all cheekiness.
Trevor leaned against the window, his thick forearms tensing as he crossed them in front of him, and his demeanor was more distant than normal. His easy smiles vanished as he stared out the window, utter seriousness in his gaze. Folks walked along the street toward a big lit up house with the clay tile roof trademark of this coast. Out of anyone, her nerves should be on edge about stepping into the pocket of the Otherworld, a land where fae reigned supreme and humans rarely entered unless bewitched. Before Liz could ask what bothered him, Renn came over and shoved his hair in front of Trevor, putting the unruly mop in full focus.
“Pull some of your voodoo on this mess, Trev,” Renn demanded, headbanging in front of him as if he stood front stage at an Iron Maiden show.
Trevor shook his head, trying to mask the faint smile at the way Renn thrashed about in front of him, making his thick black hair ten times messier. “Stop twitching like an electrocuted tentacle. I’ll tame your nightmare if you’ve got some gel.”
“Thanks, ass.” Kieran shot Trev a look at the mention of tentacles. If they saw another of the finfolk in the next century it’d be too soon. His gaze slipped to her and lingered. Her mind drifted to those moments before the creature had arrived, of the heady scent of brine and sandalwood from his close proximity and the storm-thick attraction broiling in the air between them. She passed him a wink, not missing the opportunity to stay focused on the here and now.
After rummaging around the bathroom for a heartbeat, Trevor emerged with one of their many bottles of product and ran it through his bandmate’s hair.
Liz barely restrained the laugh bubbling inside her at the sight. “You lot are worse than a bunch of girls getting ready for prom,” she teased, taking a careful seat on the booth bolted to the wall. After all, she didn’t want any stains on this thing since she’d be returning it tomorrow, and she’d seen more spills than she could count in this RV. Trevor smirked while he continued to tame Renn’s hair until the mop turned into messy slick strands that screamed sex. Renn wore a loose white tank he’d rip off mid set. The drummer had a nudity problem that wouldn’t quit, and the fans over-encouraged him.
“Nah,” Kieran piped up. “Once you see the penguins in their suits and tails throughout this shindig, we’ll look like the scruffiest nerfherders there. I’d never be caught dead in a suit—all the fancy attire’s for Court people like my folks and Lars.”
Jett elbowed him in the side. “Come on, I think you’d look dashing in a suit. Our too-pretty front man could pull it, right Liz?” His eyes glittered with mischief as he glanced her way, being a pain in her ass on purpose. No wonder Kieran tried to slug him.
Liz refused to fall for the bait. “You boys don suits and I’m pretty sure the women in the audiences would faint straight away.” To be honest, the idea of Kieran in a suit revved her engine in the right way, but no way in hell would she toss gasoline to his blazing ego.
“We should get a move on,” Trevor said, nodding toward the door. “The sooner we’re prepped the better.”
Kieran turned to her with seriousness in his eyes spelling a bossy tirade to follow. “Don’t eat anything there,” he said. “Or accept any gifts. No favors, nothing. Suspect every nice turn someone tries to do for you, because being a human in this setting, they’ll all be making an attempt to sink their claws into you. Any promises made amongst fae have a way of binding—we are under the subjugation too.”
“You’re forgetting—I’m not quite human. If your mojo doesn’t work on me, I doubt enchanted food or drink will. But, better to play safe.” Liz rolled her shoulders back, feeling the stress settle into them at the prospect of the night ahead. When the boys started their set, she’d be alone in a room full of people who’d want her as a pet or a tasty snack. “You’re making baby steps,” she said with a smile. “I’m shocked there aren’t threats to lock me up in the RV during all of this.”
“Like you’d listen.” He shot her a look, probably remembering the dismal result when he tried to boss her around the other night. She grinned wide before pushing herself off the seat and slipping into the strappy four-inch heels that were going to be hell to walk
around in all night.
Trevor stood by the door, tapping his fingers along the frame as if he were sounding out a melody on his guitar. Even though his nerves marched on full display for whatever reason, when he sank into the music onstage, he’d be fine.
Jett gave Renn a shove forward. “Come on, beauty queen. Time to go.”
Renn returned the favor with an elbow to the side, making Jett glare at him. “Try and keep up, asshole.”
Liz heaved a sigh as she maneuvered past the lot of them. If Jett and Renn fought any more, she’d ship them to couple’s counseling.
The second she stepped off the RV and caught the full view of the mansion in front of them, the sight dosed her with adrenaline. A foster kid who spent most of her life downing instant mac and cheese and patching holes in her Goodwill buys didn’t fit in amidst flash and cash.
The tan exterior glowed with a rosy hue due to the miniature lanterns lining the walkway, marked by conical shrubs carved with precision. Intricate black metal railings tipped in gold decorated the balconies, long ones adorning each of the three floors and backlit by the amber light gleaming out from the long rectangular windows. She didn’t know whether to expect some portal to step through leading to this section of the fae realms, but up ahead looked like a regular mansion.
A group of men strolled by, the glint of their Rolex and diamond studded cuff links marking them as money. While most humans passing by this place on the outskirts of the city would see the rich and elite congregating, Liz bypassed the veil of glamour. The group of men might not be short on cash, but she noticed the curl of the one guy’s ears and how his veiny muscles almost burst out of his tux. Another of the men reached close to seven feet tall and had a gaunt, skeletal frame with red eyes and ashy skin, clearly not human. Her tongue dried as they neared the entrance of the building.
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