by Sharon Kay
AWAKENING KISS
Sharon Kay
This is a work of fiction. Any actual places are used in a fictional context. Other names of places and people are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual places or people is purely coincidental.
AWAKENING KISS
Edited by Janet Michelson
Cover art by Kim Killion at The Killion Group, Inc.
Interior design by Cheryl Murphy at Ink Slinger Editorial Services
AWAKENING KISS © 2016 Sharon Kay
ISBN-13:978-1536964103
ISBN-10:1536964107
BOOKS BY SHARON KAY
The Solsti Prophecy series
WICKED WIND
WICKED WAVES
WICKED FLAMES
ON WICKED GROUND
Companion to the Solsti Prophecy series
KISSED BY A DEMON SPY: A NOVELLA
The Watcher’s Kiss series
TAINTED KISS
ASSASSIN’S KISS
CAPTIVE’S KISS
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
First, a huge, sincere THANK YOU to my readers! Without you, these stories would remain untold. Your support, comments, and messages motivate me and mean more to me than I can possibly express.
Thank you to my amazing husband, for your patience and support of my writing. You are wonderful to brainstorm with about plots and powers. I love you!
Thank you to my son. I love everything we do together. I love your bright and curious mind, and your endless questions (and thank you to Google for helping me answer them)!
Thank you to my parents and siblings, my in-laws, and my extended family for your love and encouragement of my creativity.
Thank you to my critique partners and beta readers: Cam, Cristin, Heather, Jamie K., Jamie S., Andrea, Racquel, and my proofreader Toshia. Your opinions, advice, and nit-pickiness are invaluable, often hilarious, and always spot-on!
Thank you to the trio of women who make my plain Word document into a professional-looking book: Kim Killion, my cover designer at the Killion Group, Janet Michelson, my eagle-eyed editor; and Cheryl Murphy at Ink Slinger Editorial Services, my formatter and savior from the scary world of ebook html-coding.
And a big hug and kiss to the many bloggers I have had the joy to work with. The support you give to indie authors is amazing. Many of you have jobs and families and still make time to read and review dozens (if not hundreds) of books each year, providing exposure for us through insightful and witty reviews, blog tours, cover reveals, and contests. THANK YOU!
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Epilogue
Preview
Glossary
About Sharon Kay
CHAPTER 1
ALONE IN HER COFFEE SHOP’S kitchen, Enza De Luca sank her teeth into the flaky, light-as-air chocolate almond croissant and smiled. The extra hours spent perfecting the recipe had been so worth it. Meena, her best friend and co-owner of Java Genie, would love it. She’d probably suggest it to each customer who came in tomorrow. Enza could hear Meena’s lilting voice now, saying, “Would you like to try one of our new chocolate almond croissants with that?”
Enza packed the small batch of completed croissants in an airtight container, then carefully stored another tray of thirty ready-to-bake croissants on one of the racks inside the massive commercial refrigerator. She wasn’t due to work tomorrow, but the morning’s baristas would heat and then move them to the display case when they opened the store bright and early.
Ovens off and shop locked, Enza winced as the muggy July night slammed into her. It was hotter out here than in her kitchen, and with humidity to match, her clothes would stick to her in about two seconds. Chicago gave its citizens an annual heat wave that lasted a week if they were lucky, several if not.
She walked west on North Avenue, not seeing any buses. Lincoln Park, the trendy neighborhood where Java Genie was located, bustled with people walking dogs or just out enjoying gelato and ice cream. Side streets offered peeks at cozy two and three story homes. Some brownstone, some red, some gray, all of them were long and narrow, often with steps leading up to the front door and plants adding a homey touch to the postage-stamp sized front yards. Nice, but totally out of her price range.
Enza passed the first bus stop. No bus, but no worries. She squared her shoulders and kept walking. She usually didn’t work this late, especially because she started early in the day. Pastries tended to sell quickly among the morning commuters. But when the stroller and fitness moms came in, the display cases cleaned out.
The last lingering streaks of pink crisscrossed the western sky, so pretty as they wrapped through the encroaching dark gray. What was that old saying her Italian nonno quoted? Red sky at night, sailors’ delight… She swung her gaze to the traffic as a souped-up black Porsche tore down the street. The roar of the modified engine split the night and echoed off the brick storefronts. Enza rolled her eyes, figuring some dude was compensating for something—
Her eyes locked with those of a guy in a dark hoodie, just ahead of her. She was about to pass him by. He looked away from her quickly and slunk against a building.
A prickle of warning shot up Enza’s spine. Who wore a hoodie on a ninety-degree day? Even though it was currently nine at night, it was still hot. She picked up her pace, trying not to look but wanting him to know she was aware of him.
But he only stared down at his phone as if it were the most interesting thing in the world, hoodie pulled low. All she saw was his nose.
She walked briskly with her head high. Never look like you’re weak. Anyway, he might just be suspicious looking, not necessarily a threat. The next bus stop was five blocks away. She could go there, stop and wait, face him-and then what? Get on the bus? What if he did too, and followed her home? Shit. She should hail a cab.
But of course, there were none to be seen. She crossed the street and dared to peek over her shoulder.
He was behind her, though fifteen feet back, still looking at his phone. Or pretending to. Her heart hammered in her chest. She lengthened her stride, hands squeezing into fists. All the buildings she passed were dark offices and closed retail shops. Nowhere to duck inside. Next block. Hudson Avenue. Another peek. Hoodie guy was ten feet back now.
And ahead of her, two more figures approached. Every nerve ending screamed in warning. These guys worked in teams. One would create a distraction, the others would grab what they wanted…
Trepidation spiked through her. A man and woman strolled twenty feet ahead of her, lost in each other. A few men who looked like they’d worked late hurried along the other side of the street. How had the crowds thinned out so quickly? Shit! This time, she didn’t da
re glance behind her.
There was an alley coming up. She’d been past it enough to know that it was wider than most and crossed behind the buildings to emerge into the next westbound street. That fact gave zero consolation as the two guys in front of her paused at its entrance, affecting a casual pose. But the knowing sidelong sneer one gave her turned her veins to ice. Like she was walking right into a trap.
Her heart thundered in her ears. Keep walking toward them, or stop…and have hoodie guy come up behind her? Her feet slowed. Panic mixed with uncertainty.
She yelped as hoodie guy shoved her shoulder hard enough to make her stumble. One of the guys in front of her snickered.
The other scowled at him. “Hey, asshole, you fucking blind? Watch it.” To Enza, he put on a show of concern. “You okay, girl?”
She didn’t buy it. Her breath came in short bursts that bordered on hyperventilating. She opened her mouth. Closed it. Tried to remember to breathe.
They all moved closer, creating a wall between her and the street.
Nowhere to go. Except the alley. Dear god, don’t let me die in there.
Alarm erupted like a volcano and her feet took over. She turned and bolted for the alley, heart crashing in her chest, her sneakers loudly smacking the ground.
“Hey!” a male voice shouted behind her. The scrape of shoes running on pavement reached her ears.
Enza poured on speed, fueled by panic. Ahead, more figures moved around a blocky object, probably a dumpster. What was going on? No time to stop or turn around. She only hoped the people ahead could help her. Although some of them were on the ground. A fight? Gangs? Crap!
Darkness loomed ahead. Street lights on the opposite side of the alley provided the only brightness. Too far away to be any good, they only created weird shadows. One figure tackled another. More darted from hidden pockets of gloom.
Light and dark danced before her, her own vision hampered by her labored steps. Something moved in the breeze near the men. A mirage?
A grunt echoed behind her. A man in front of her punched another. Shit! Maybe she could outrun all of these guys. Maybe they could beat each other up and she could get away.
The dumpster neared. The men fought. And the light played tricks on her with that shifting, airy image. An optical illusion? It was even bigger now.
No time to process any of it. Her flight reflex knocked every other thought out of her brain. Speeding toward the other end of the alley, she ran.
A warm night wind caressed the fabric of Rhys’s T-shirt as he crouched on a rooftop above Chicago’s streets. Below snaked a busy avenue on which fewer and fewer people walked as it stretched to the west, toward a more industrial area. But warehouses, factories, and a smelly river never seemed to bother the most intrepid developer. New housing was going up everywhere, no matter the neighborhood.
Next to him, his fellow warrior Brenin paced the flat black tar roof. The two Watchers were on a joint patrol tonight on the city’s north side, checking for trouble among any supernatural creatures that may be lurking-but staying out of human conflicts. That’s what Chicago’s finest were for. From the avenues below, car horns honked and tires squealed, expected in a city of a couple million people. But on the magical front, Rhys’s senses met a big swath of idleness.
“It’s too quiet,” Rhys said. “I don’t like it.”
“Me neither.” Brenin set his hands on his hips and scrutinized the street.
Rhys stood and walked to the edge of the roof. Four stories below, a few men walked briskly, probably on their way home from work. Young, with messenger bags strapped across their chests, at least they had the sense to be off their phones and paying attention to their surroundings. From the alley next to their building, the thud of a dumpster lid closing echoed. Next, the stink of garbage wafted up, each rotten aroma grating on his enhanced sense of smell.
“Someone had sushi for lunch,” Rhys muttered, scowling.
Foom!
The unmistakable sound of a magic blast being thrown-and missing-reached his ears. He sped to the west edge of the building, next to Brenin, and peered down.
The alley was quiet.
But one building over, a flash of blue lit the darkness.
“Go time.” Brenin backed up, a wide grin on his face. The alley’s width was no problem for them. And the neighboring building was close enough that they could easily jump the distance. Taking off at a full run, Brenin leaped into the air and landed soundlessly on the next roof.
Rhys followed suit, arms and legs pumping as he sailed through the brief void. Concrete yawned below his feet for a split second, then he dropped to the roof like a jaguar.
The two males ran for the far side as more blue flashed. And now, curses broke the quiet.
Reaching the edge, they stopped. In an alley below, next to a dumpster, a supernatural skirmish had broken out. Two Skell demons, small and incompetent, fought taller, mean-tempered dark elves. Neither species was predatory, though the elves were greedy as shit and tried to grab as much power as they could. And right now, the magical blasts were their weapon of choice against their enemy.
“Ah, shit,” Brenin muttered, pushing his hair off his face.
“I would love to let them knock the piss out of each other,” Rhys said.
“Me too.” Brenin’s tone was grim.
They both knew that wasn’t an option. Supernaturals could do whatever they wanted to each other-out of sight of homo sapiens. The possibility of drawing human attention was a deal breaker. “Here we go.” Rhys stepped off the edge of the roof.
Four floors of concrete and brick flashed by, then he landed on the pavement with a thud, not bothering to be quiet this time.
The Skell demons pressed against the dumpster. The three dark elves cursed and shrank back as Brenin dropped to Rhys’s side.
“Shut it down, assholes,” Rhys said to the elves. “This place looks like the fucking Fourth of July.”
“This isn’t your concern, Lash,” one elf hissed. “We were dealing with these losers who can’t seem to follow instructions. You can go.” It turned to a Skell, the source of its anger.
The Skell demons panted. Dull red eyes gave haunted looks from long faces that resembled humans until you looked closely.
“I don’t care what you’re pissed about. You got one second to get lost or you won’t be around to hold a grudge anymore.” Brenin reached for the sword strapped to his back. Of all the Watchers, he was the fastest, most accurate swordsman Rhys had ever seen.
“True,” Rhys said, pasting on a you’d-be-dumb-not-to-listen look. “You don’t want to be on the other end of that.”
The Skells edged away. Rhys saw it, let it go. Of the two creatures, the dark elves were the bigger problem.
As if on cue, one of the elves chanted a spell. A blue flash of light sparked in the air in front of it, and spiraled toward the Watchers. Rhys and Brenin easily ducked.
The Skells took off running. The elves cursed, but charged the Watchers. A gnarled, clawed fist connected with Rhys’s jaw.
Adrenaline fired through Rhys. He and Brenin lived for this shit. A good old-fashioned brawl was the best way to let off steam, other than fucking. Neither of them had a mate, but each had as much female company as he wanted.
Rhys grabbed the elf’s wrist and snapped it to the side. Bone popped and the creature howled. Rhys slammed his head forward into the elf’s skull, hard enough to make it drop.
Brenin’s sword whirled through the air with lightning-fast slices, cutting into one elf’s arm. The other pulled something from his pocket-an amulet-and started a spell. In seconds, the shimmering ring of a portal popped into view and expanded to a six-foot diameter.
“Not so fast, fucker.” Rhys darted across the alley and grabbed the elf.
It fought back with surprising strength, digging a blade into Rhys’s stomach. Rhys grunted and rolled the elf to pin it to the ground. The wound would heal in a few minutes, though right now his blood was splashing al
l over the dirty asphalt.
“Who do you work for?” Rhys wrenched the elf’s arms back behind it.
It didn’t respond.
Next to the dumpster, Brenin landed one punch after another to his elf’s jaw. Bleeding, it wobbled and collapsed.
Good. Rhys frowned. The elves seemed more skilled than the last bunch they had fought. But before he could process that thought too deeply, the thump of racing footsteps reached his ears.
A female sprinted down the alley. Dark waves of hair flowed back from a face streaked with determination and…was that fear? As she neared, her eyes raked over their group, then locked on the open portal.
She was headed straight for it as if her life depended on it. Who the hell is she? She added a new layer to this mess, if she was involved. The need to apprehend her and contain this situation ratcheted up past skirmish and into problem territory.
“Hey!” Rhys shouted. “Stop!”
She gasped, sparing him a fleeting glimpse as she neared. Then her attention centered once again on the shimmering ring. A sugary scent swirled from her skin, masking something else.
Rhys stared. Humans couldn’t see portals, yet this female was hell bent on reaching it. Whatever creature she was, she could pass for human, where only a few species could. She had to be working with the dark elves somehow.
“Grab her before she goes into the portal!” Brenin yelled.
Rhys leaped up. The elf under him scrambled, putting just enough distance to stab him again. “Fuck!” He turned and punched the thing. Its head snapped back and it slumped.
The female kept up her breakneck pace, focused on her destination.
“I said, stop!” Rhys shouted, yanking the dirty blade out of his side. That would make two matching wounds tonight.
She didn’t slow. She was five feet away from the portal. Three…
She broke the surface awkwardly, falling into it with one shoulder. Her torso disappeared and her still-visible legs flailed.
