by Ashley Meira
I stared at the glovebox in silence. “Um….”
“You don’t need to know someone’s last name to feel sad about their death,” Fiona called from the backseat. She was curled up in the corner, hugging herself.
“Thank you,” I said before turning toward Adam. “Can you drive us back to Ollie’s, please?”
Adam gave me one last skeptical look before starting the car. “You’re up to something. You had your determined face on back there.”
“It wasn’t determination,” I said. “It was anger.”
“Why?”
“Tommy took my job.”
Fiona furrowed her brows. “Seriously?”
“You said Roger called around two hours ago, right? That’s when Tommy cancelled on her. For a job. If I’d been there—”
“Sophia,” Adam said in disbelief. “Do you really think that would’ve made a difference?”
“If I’d taken that job, Tommy wouldn’t have cancelled. If he hadn’t cancelled, she wouldn’t have been there when—”
“It’s not your fault,” Fiona interrupted. “If someone wanted to kill her, they’d have done it anyway.”
I shook my head, refusing to be guilt-free. “If there was even a chance I could’ve prevented anything…. Maybe I could’ve stopped the killer mid-act.”
Maybe if I wasn’t Fireborn, I wouldn’t need to train my magic so I didn’t blow up the city. Maybe if I hadn’t been held prisoner as a child, I wouldn’t need to prepare to fight my kidnapper. Maybe if I hadn’t been so damn weak in the first place—
Adam reached over and squeezed my knee. “You are not at fault.”
“I’m not innocent— Ow!” Rubbing the back of my head, I turned to glare at Fiona. “Why’d you hit me?”
“Because you’re being stupid.” She puffed her cheeks out — that was her stubborn face. “Super stupid. I’ve met toddlers smarter than you. This isn’t your fault. And if you ever say it is again, I’ll hit you in the face instead.”
“You did hit me in the face.”
“I hit you in the head,” she said with narrowed eyes that promised venomous rebuttal. “If you’d like, I could hit you in the face so you can compare what it feels like.”
A quiet snort escaped Adam’s lips.
I turned to him. “You’re dead.”
“She’s right,” Fiona huffed. “I will knock you flat on your ass, pretty boy.”
Her magic was zipping around in a fit. I’d always been down — that is, an angsty, self-pitying mess — over my Fireborn heritage. Fiona worked hard to make me feel like I wasn’t a freak or a monster, so it drove her crazy when I took guilt trips over things like this. It drove me crazy too, but I wasn’t about to punch myself in the face over it. And if I did, it wouldn’t hurt nearly as much as a punch from her. Fiona was thin, but she hit like a truck.
Adam kept one hand on the wheel but lifted the other off my knee and raised it in a show of surrender. “Hey, I’m on your side. I don’t think she’s at fault either, though I wouldn’t hit her.”
“Not more than once,” Fiona muttered. “I’d find you.”
I couldn’t help smile over her protectiveness. She was better than a blood sister. “Fine, I won’t sulk over not being there.” Out loud. “But I don’t want to deal with any Council people. Things will be better for everyone if I don’t accidentally scuff the Archduke of Royalty’s shoes.”
“That’s not a real title.” Adam’s words were firm, but he was biting his lip to hide a smile. “And they’re only sending an agent. Besides, I’m a Council person. You deal with me.”
“That’s not the term I’d use.” Suffered intense confusion over, maybe. Torn between security and happiness, possibly. But dealing with him? Not even close. That was a level of healthiness I yearned to achieve.
“More like swoon over,” Fiona said, the stiff line of her shoulders gone. “Dream of every night. Imagine naked—”
“You’re not the only one who can punch people in the face,” I warned. Someone was getting smothered in their sleep tonight.
“You know….” Adam turned to me, his hair perfectly disheveled and his smile sin personified. “You don’t have to imagine.”
I swallowed thickly. Words. Words were good. Preferably snarky ones. “You’re right. I don’t.” Maintaining eye contact felt impossible, but I succeeded. “I’ve punched her in the face before.”
“True that.” Fiona rubbed her nose as if reliving the memory. “She’s got really bony knuckles. Like tiny daggers.”
“Look who’s talking.”
She grinned, looking like the little sister she claimed to be. Which was bull. I’d overheard one of my guards mention I was sixteen when I woke up eight years ago, but Fiona didn’t know her real age. Until she did, I refused to be known as the older one.
“Well,” Adam said, “if you are planning on meddling in this case—”
“I’m not Scooby-Doo.”
“They both like being pet, though.” Fiona winked at Adam.
I raised a fist, but Adam caught it before I could take my revenge. He kissed my knuckles then tangled our fingers together. This left me with my right arm crossed over my body, but I couldn’t bring myself to pull away. As usual. I wanted to scream, but doubted I could hear it over the happy crackling of my Fire.
Fireborns had something called the Fire Within. I wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but it was the part of us that constantly hungered for magic. These days, it seemed to react to anything Adam-related. It liked him, just like my friends did. Freakin’ traitors, all of them.
“My point is,” Adam continued, “be careful. Not all Council agents are going to take kindly to someone sniffing around. None of them will, actually, but some are more polite than others.”
I found it hard to believe anyone who locked people up for being born a certain way could be polite. “I’m the epitome of unassuming.”
He raised a brow.
“What? I am.”
“She is,” Fiona said. “She also has all the subtlety of a UFO. It’s one of those idiosyncrasies that make her so lovable.”
“That’s true,” he said, bringing my hand back up to kiss.
I wrenched it back to my chest and cradled it petulantly. “Don’t do that.”
“You’re so tense. I wanted to help.”
I glanced out the window. We were cruising along, which meant punching our driver would be a bad idea. That didn’t stop me from considering it, though.
“If you total his car, you’ll have to pay for it,” Fiona said.
“No, she won’t—”
“Dude, shush. I’m trying to save your life.”
And she did. Even if he didn’t want my money — and could buy five of these without looking at the price — I’d feel like crap and want to pay him back. I owed him enough already.
“If you really want to help, you can break into Elizabeth’s phone.” I tossed him the phone I’d slipped from her pocket while Roger was watching. “She may have known her attacker, but the thing is password locked, so I can’t dig into it.”
In addition to being CEO, Adam handled all his family’s security. Since he’d taken over, their security had increased tenfold. A measly phone password wouldn’t pose a challenge for him.
Adam stopped at a light and turned the phone over in his hand. I raised a brow. What was he staring at? It was a standard iPhone, nothing special. Was he trying to unlock it with his mind?
“You stole this from the crime scene?” he said finally.
“Um….” Well, when he put it like that.
“Pickpocketing is kind of her thing,” Fiona said casually. She was so used to this she hadn’t even batted an eye. “I’m surprised you haven’t noticed.”
“If it bothers you, I’ll return it,” I said. “But only after you unlock—”
Adam’s mouth swallowed my words. His lips crashed against mine as one large hand tangled itself in my hair. He pulled me closer, our lips moving together w
ith practiced ease. Damn it. We’d done this way too much. And it felt like heaven.
When he pulled away, I was breathless and my tongue was coated with the vanilla taste of his magic. His eyes were a wild hurricane as they bore into mine. He slipped his fingers from my hair and stroked my cheek.
Before I could ask, he said, “How could you think I’d ever get bored of you?”
Chapter Four
We stopped by Pierce Incorporated so Adam could drop off Elizabeth’s phone with someone he trusted. I should’ve been happy, but all it did was give Fiona more time to annoy me in the car. If she mentioned that kiss one more time, I was going to be an only child.
My Fire was already giving me enough grief over it. The smug thing was rolling around in jubilation over his touch, like he was a ten-course magic meal prepared by… some famous magical chef. I didn’t know any names; all I ate was Blood Hut pizza and Ollie’s food. My point was, if I could look at Adam in the next twenty-four hours without my heart pounding or my face turning red, it’d be a miracle.
Ollie looked up when we entered. It was past closing time, so he was wiping the counter while Adrienne helped sweep the floor.
That all stopped when we entered. They knew Elizabeth was dead, but we’d convinced them to stay here. Only Guild members had been called, and we didn’t want to test anyone’s temper. Adam? Well, Adam did whatever he wanted. There was no stopping him from being there for me, the considerate jerk.
Adrienne placed the broom down and approached us. “Is she really…?”
I nodded, pulling her into a hug. She clung to me, her breathing heavy. There were no tears, though. Adrienne may have looked like a porcelain doll, but she was tough as steel. The smell of fresh water washed over me as her magic hit in a flood of grief. Nereids were social creatures by nature; Adrienne had close friends all over the city, including poor Elizabeth.
She pulled away from me with a tight smile. “Thank you. I’m fine now.”
“Adrie—”
“It’s okay. Really.” She sighed and ran a trembling hand through her hair. “I’m more worried about Sandra, to be honest. First her aunt, now this.”
“They were friends?” I asked.
“Best friends,” she said.
“Oh,” I said softly as guilt washed over me. “Yeah, they seem like the same type.”
Making friends was something Fiona and I tried to avoid — though Adrienne and Ollie had managed to worm their way into our hearts — so I never made an effort to get to know Elizabeth. But it wasn’t like with other mercenaries where we were always on the go. Elizabeth was at her desk every day, helping Roger manage all of us.
And I didn’t know the first thing about her. All the time I killed at the Guild, and I didn’t bother taking a few minutes to ask about her life.
“You mean the type that wouldn’t combust after talking about makeup for a few seconds?” Fiona teased.
I snorted. “You don’t wear makeup either, you glamour addict.”
“I’m a fairy,” she said. “It’s not an addiction, it’s a birthright.”
“So, what happened?” Ollie said. “All you told us was they found her body, and you had to go.”
I took Adrienne’s hand, causing her magic to flare. She knew I was about to tell them Elizabeth’s death wasn’t a accident. “She was murdered.”
Adrienne squeezed my hand while Ollie stumbled back against the counter. The heavy curtain that had covered the parking lot fell over the room. This wasn’t the angry disbelief of battle-hardened mercenaries, ready to hunt down the perpetrator, however. It was grief and pain. They were lost on what to do, helpless.
Adam placed two chairs behind us and went to grab more. We sat together in a circle. Adrienne leaned against me while Ollie slumped against Fiona. Adam sat on my other side, his mere presence doing wonders for my state of mind.
“What are they going to do?” Adrienne said tiredly. “The Council sends agents to investigate crimes in our community, so someone was there, right?”
“Not yet,” Adam said. “They’re sending an agent now.”
“This doesn’t make sense.” Ollie shook his head as if refusing to believe it would keep Elizabeth alive. “Why would anyone hurt her?”
“We don’t know yet,” I said. “Could’ve been random. Maybe Sandra knows about any issues she had?”
“No.” Adrienne stood, her pretty features twisted up. She looked at us, our expressions calming her. “I’m sorry. If you want to ask her, at least wait until tomorrow. Poor thing is going to be a wreck when she finds out about Elizabeth.”
“Right,” I said. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I overreacted.” She gave me a weak smile. “I think I’ll go see Sandra now, actually. Better she hears about this from a friend than the news or some investigator.”
“You want one of us to go with you?” I asked.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, gathering her things. “Let me know if you find anything.”
The moment she left the cafe, Adam’s phone went off.
I raised a brow. “Update on Elizabeth’s phone?”
“Impatient, aren’t we?” he said, scrolling through his messages. “Nothing on that yet. Just work. I need to visit the office, but I’ll drop you and Fiona off at home first.”
“It’s fine,” I said.
“No, it’s not,” Fiona said.
“You can portal us.”
“Your boyf—” She cut off at my glare. “The nice man has offered us a ride home. It would be rude to refuse him.”
“She’s right.” Ollie stood. “I’ll get you guys some coffee for the road.”
I needed new friends.
“Decaf for Sophia,” Adam said. After dodging my punch, he added, “You’ve had a long day. Get some rest.”
I crossed my arms. “You’ve had a long day too, and you’re still going to work. Plus, I had a nap on the plane.”
“Sophia, new mages—”
“I’m not a new mage.”
“—Use more magic than necessary. Especially when they have a penchant for summoning tornados. You need as much rest as possible.”
I glared at him, narrowing my eyes enough to hide his full lips from my sight. Those things were distracting enough when I was at full capacity.
“Would saying ‘please’ convince you?”
There were dozens of things he could do to convince me, and it physically hurt to block all those ideas out. “No, but I’ll sleep and get home by myself. Happy?”
He grinned as if he could read my thoughts. “What’s the catch?”
“The part where you don’t drive me home.”
“It’s never that simple with you.” He pecked the corner of my mouth. “But fine. I’ll see you soon.”
I stepped back before I could turn to kiss him fully. “Try to get some rest too, okay?”
“You do care.” He sent me a wink over his shoulder before exiting the cafe.
Ollie frowned as he stepped out from the kitchen with three to-go cups. “He left without his coffee.”
“No worries,” I said. “I know someone else who’ll appreciate it.”
Fiona sighed. “I knew you were up to something.”
I shrugged. “You could’ve said something to Adam.”
“He doesn’t have to live with you,” she said. “And I prefer sleeping without fear of being smothered.”
I grinned and gave Ollie a hug goodbye before turning to Fiona. “Portal me?”
She rolled her eyes and told Ollie, “Be glad you’re an only child.”
“I come bearing gifts.”
Symeon looked me over, his eyes lingering on the coffee cups balanced in my left hand and Hermes’ sandals in my right. “Shoes and hipster coffee. How Greenwich Village of you.”
“You know,” I said dryly, “it would be a shame if my hand slipped and coffee spilled all over these nice sandals.”
He pursed his full lips. “You are a cruel mistress.”
; “I’m not your mistress.”
“Unfortunately,” he said with a dramatic fluttering of his ocean blue eyes.
Taking the sandals, he waved me into his apartment. I stalked toward the window that comprised the entire right wall of his penthouse. Mansions in the Garden District were built for privacy, surrounded by luscious greenery, but Water Nymph Bay, the city’s second most prestigious neighborhood, was all glamour. You could see the entire city from here, the glittering lights like a million precious diamonds.
Symeon slipped the extra cup from my hand and sipped it elegantly. Hell, he did everything elegantly. I wasn’t sure if it had to do with him being a siren or if it was something inherently Symeon, a part of who he was. He swept his long black hair over one shoulder. Adrienne had hair like that, though hers fell in soft curls where his hair was straight. Still, it looked shiny and softer than silk. Must be a sea creature thing.
“Can I help you with anything else?”
I shook my head. “Wait, you don’t have someone here, do you? I called to make sure—”
“Prude.” His statement carried no inflection, and I couldn’t read anything from his magic. Symeon was even better at controlling his magic than Adam. Whether it came naturally or was the product of vigorous practice, I didn’t know.
I drank my coffee to resist punching him. After walking in on Symeon having an orgy, I made sure to call in advance before stopping by. The last thing I needed was to walk in on more pillars of the community doing a pony show. The leverage would be nice, but it wasn’t worth the mental scarring that came with it.
“I’m not a prude,” I said. “The stuff you do should be illegal — and probably is in some places.”
“Long day?” he asked, moving to recline on his sofa. Symeon posed a lot. So much that I believed he was incapable of not doing it. “There’s no bite to your words. Breaks my heart, really. It’s been a slow week, and I could use the stimulation.”
“Four days ago, you rescheduled me twice because you had a miscommunication with your… party friends.”
“Thank you, grandmother.” He rolled his eyes. “Haven’t we known each other long enough for you to realize two ‘parties’ is a slow week for me?”
