by Amy Patrick
I released my belt and scooted across the seat into his waiting arms. “No, I’m pretty much terrified.” I laughed.
“All right then.” Asher plucked the ring from my fingertips and slid it onto my left hand. “Want to be terrified together?”
I looked into beautiful blue eyes that saw the truth about me and loved me anyway. “I do. I really do.”
Epilogue
Instead of going to The Skillet for breakfast, Asher and I went back to his farm, taking the hidden rear entrance of course, to share the news with his granddaddy and his mom.
I found out what grits were—very tasty by the way—and I found out why Granddaddy had installed the underground perimeter defense to his property so many years ago.
“I grew up in the old country hearing stories of the Sidhe—or Fae folk—from my da and his da. Of course I never took any of it too seriously,” he said. “That is until shortly after I moved to Deep River and bought this land and started clearing it for farming. I was felling a tree when a group of folks come walking through the woods, all dressed fine as you please, not like a hunting party or hikers. I told them hello and asked where they were going. They walked right up to me, not a one of them smiling. When they got close I felt sort of afraid, you ken, because they didn’t look normal. They were fiercely beautiful. And some of them had on jewelry with strange symbols—like on that pretty ring of yours. I’ll never forget the look of them. I was a bit frightened, like I said, but I told them ‘hello’ again, trying to be hospitable.”
“They probably didn’t understand you,” I offered. “The Light Elves don’t speak aloud as we do.”
“Oh, they understood me well enough, lass—they had no interest in being neighborly. One of the three males in the group asked me what I was doing—more like he demanded to know. I explained I was clearing the land to farm it. And he said something about how it was typical of ‘humans’ to think they own the world and to alter it for their own selfish purposes. Well, by this time, I was getting pretty heated. I started to argue with him—I bought the land with my hard-earned money, and I needed to farm it to make a living. Then another fellow stepped forward.”
He stopped and cut his gaze over to Asher. “Had the bluest eyes I’d ever seen in my life—like turquoise sea waters. He asked if I might consider leaving a swath of land untouched at the back of the property so he and his people could maintain their traditional traveling routes to and from a certain destination they had to reach every ten years. Well, it all sounded like mad daftie talk to me. I was about to tell him so when he said something that chilled me to my bones.”
“What was it?” Asher asked, enrapt.
“He said, ‘You would be wise to make this small concession, for the sake of your beautiful daughter.’”
Granddaddy passed a hand over his face, drawing a shaky breath. “Jenna was only eight years old at the time. She loved to play outside and run around and explore the property. Before that day I’d always thought of it as the safest place she could possibly be. I wasn’t going to take any chances. I agreed to leave the woods untouched at the back of the property, and they went on their way. I started digging the trench that day—right inside the tree line. I wasn’t sure if it would work or not, but it was the only thing I could think to do, short of moving. I’d sunk my life savings into the land—it was supposed to make a future for my family.”
“And it worked?” Asher asked.
“It did,” Granddaddy paused. “... for the most part.”
“It still does, apparently,” I said.
Asher wore a smug grin. “I don’t think Culley will be too eager to come back for seconds. If he does—or if he sends someone else—I’ll be ready for them. I’m going to talk to the guy down at the gun shop about making me some pure iron buckshot.”
“He won’t be back,” I said. I was sure of it. I’d seen it in his eyes.
I wasn’t the right person for Culley—I couldn’t save him—from Audun, or from himself. And deep down inside, he knew it. In spite of the cocky threats he’d thrown at Asher, he had already let me go.
I only hoped—for his own sake—he’d eventually let someone else in.
AFTERWORD
Thank you for reading Hidden Danger! I really hope you enjoyed it. If you did, would you consider leaving a review at iBooks? And if your fingers aren’t too tired, at Goodreads, too? Reviews are so important for authors and help other readers find great books.
There is more to come in the Hidden World. Book 6 of the saga, HIDDEN DESIRE, releases in September 2016 and is available now for pre-order here. Here’s the story:
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder...
Culley Rune is the perfect guy—as far as anyone can see. Inside, he knows he's unlovable, unworthy, unwanted. He's done terrible things in service to his father, the corrupt leader of the Dark Council—including playing a pivotal role in the mysterious new drug epidemic that's sweeping the human population of the world.
Now that he's lost his one chance at a real relationship, there's no reason to change his ways. He might as well take his place at his mercenary father's side. But when he runs into a strange human girl in the worst possible place at the worst possible time, he can't seem to stop himself from getting involved, and he may have found the one person on earth who can see past his beautiful facade to the heavily-guarded heart that lies beneath.
In this sixth book of the Hidden Saga, as the battle between the Dark and Light courts rages on, the fate of the human race may lie in Culley's hands, and the fate of his heart may rest with the last girl he'd ever have expected to breach his defenses.
Turn the page for a sneak preview of HIDDEN DESIRE...
Hidden Desire- Chapter One
Little Red Riding Hood
What a hellhole.
This neighborhood is my least favorite district of L.A., and believe me, for a city with a reputation for beaches and sunshine and glittering movie premiers, it has plenty of areas you wouldn’t want to be caught dead in. Actually—if you were caught in one of them and didn’t belong there, you’d likely end up dead.
I walk past a seedy apartment building, a loud TV blaring from one of its screenless windows guarded by security bars. Behind a chain-link fence across the street a couple of pit bulls bark and snarl at me as if they’d love to have me for an afternoon snack and leave no leftovers.
I have no fears for my own security. For one thing, I don’t give a shit. For another, they want me here. I bring the only thing the lowlifes in this part of town still care about. Whatever good people are left here are no doubt cowering inside, hoping the “Scourge” will pass them by.
At least the streets don’t reek as much as they used to—fewer drunks puking up their paychecks into the gutters. S has nearly taken the place of booze, cocaine, heroin, and every other recreational drug in this city—it’s cheaper than any of them and far more addictive.
I arrive at the pre-determined street corner and check my phone—I’m early. Great. I lean against the side of an auto repair shop that’s closed for the day and check my messages, scrolling through the list of texts, opening none of them. I already know what they want, and it’s a guarantee all of them want something from me. Everyone does.
Something moves near my feet, startling me and making me jump to the side. At first I think it’s a rat, then I realize it’s a gray cat—a small one—a kitten actually. It’s filthy and so bony it hardly resembles a domestic animal at all.
When it realizes I’ve noticed it, the scrawny thing mewls at me.
“Go away,” I bark at it, and the pitiful thing skitters back, then it takes a few cautious steps toward my shoes again.
I lift one foot and kick the air. “Get! I’ve got nothing for you. Go find a mouse or something.” It makes another noise, louder this time. “Listen here—you want some advice? Don’t count on anyone to give you anything in this life—the sooner you learn that one, the better.”
The kitten is apparently smart
er than most human beings—it runs away from me. I snort a laugh at my own expense. Wouldn’t Ava be so proud?
I can’t stop myself from thinking of our last conversation four months ago. You’ll never be happy until you let your guard down and open your heart and let someone see the real you, she said. What a laugh. The real me is right here, passing on cynical life lessons to a flea bitten stray. And I’ll never be happy. That possibility died the minute she told me she was in love with that human farm boy.
As far as my heart—I’m not sure I even have one. I’ve never felt the kind of emotion she seems to have for that silly dimpled bloke, the kind of attachment the Light King Lad and his bride seem to have for each other. And I don’t want to. They’re all destined for disappointment—they’re just too dumb to know it.
The afternoon sun is in my eyes, so I back into a doorway for shade. I’d really rather not think of Ava at all. With that glamour of hers, the least she could have done was erase her bothersome self from my memory—would have been the kind thing to do. But then “kindness” has never been my fate. Indifference and lack of interference is about the best I can hope for.
Down the street, the kitten shows itself again, making a beeline for its next panhandling target—the critter is persistent, I’ll give it that. Seeing its determination, I develop a grudging sense of admiration for the scrappy little beggar. Clearly it’s fending for itself on these mean streets—its mum was probably killed by a car, or maybe she abandoned it. I know the feeling.
Good luck, Dogbait.
The kitten cautiously approaches a girl on the sidewalk. She’s walking my way, dragging the fingertips of one hand along the side of the building next to her.
She’s not the usual sort I see in this neighborhood. Quite the opposite actually. She’s wearing a red sundress—and not one of those short, clingy kinds the girls wear to the clubs or for attracting customers. It’s more of the go-on-a-picnic-to-the-park kind of dress. I can almost see her flying a kite in it or picking wildflowers or some nonsense like that.
She’s got long, straight, sandy-brown hair—very clean looking—with a red headband holding it back from her face like freakin’ Alice in Wonderland or something. She looks... proper. No, that’s the wrong word. Innocent—that’s it—almost like a primary schooler, but she’s at least fifteen. Anyway, she stands out. Not a good thing around here.
I shrug. It’s your funeral, babe.
I look down at my phone, but within a minute I find myself glancing up again. The girl has stopped walking. She’s just standing there, turning in a slow circle with her head lifted. What the hell is she doing? And then it hits me. She’s probably on S. That’s what she’s doing here—trying to score another hit. She’s not the first dreamer from a small town to get off the bus in this city and get hooked on S right away.
The kitten reaches her and does a circle eight around her ankles. Immediately she stoops and picks it up, hugging it to her chest and smiling. I can’t hear her, but she’s obviously talking to the nasty little beast in her arms.
I shake my head and go back to my phone. Stupid girl. She and that mangy cat deserve one another. They can waste away together. She certainly won’t be spending her money on cat food if she’s hooked on S. There are suburban moms who don’t feed their own children because they’ve blown the grocery money on the drug.
I blow out an aggravated breath. Five minutes until our meeting, and the guy hasn’t shown yet. He’d better be here if he knows what’s good for him. I’m not exactly thrilled about making a trip to this dump for no reason—especially since my “duties” usually take me to much more posh places, places where the drug addicts are much cleaner and more attractive. But I’m the least of this low level dealer’s worries. My annoyance is nothing compared to Audun’s wrath. He doesn’t tolerate mistakes in his operation.
“Hey! Check this out.”
I lift my head to see the owner of the very loud, very amused voice. It belongs to a heavyset, heavily tattooed man wearing a dirty white tank shirt and long, wide-legged shorts that expose all but the very bottom of his underwear. He’s accompanied by two similarly dressed gentlemen. Unlike the foolish girl in the red dress, they definitely fit this neighborhood.
The three men are laughing, striding down the center of the street directly toward her. “Little Red Riding Hood came to bring us some goodies, I think,” one of them says in a lewd tone.
The third one joins in. “Wonder what she’s got in that basket?” The laughter grows louder and more raucous.
My pulse kicks up a notch as I watch them pass my location in the doorway and approach the girl. She doesn’t seem to notice, still too wrapped up in that pitiful cat or her S high, or maybe both.
A text tone draws my attention back to my phone. It’s from my father. Great.
-Meeting location has changed. New location two blocks south. A bar called Moco’s. Your contact is there now.
Naturally. The one day I’m early for a delivery and my contact changes locations on me. I push forward out of the doorway and start down the street to where my car is parked. I’m ready to get this thing over with and get out of here before the locals decide to start helping themselves to some high end automotive parts. I’ve got more deliveries to make and in far more pleasant locales than this one.
“Hey, hey little girl. You lost or something?”
“Grandma’s house is that way. Better watch out for the wolf.”
Don’t look. It doesn’t matter. It’s not your concern. Humans preying on other humans—happens all day every day all over the globe.
I will my eyes forward but they veer off to the left without my consent. The street thugs have reached Alice, as I’ve dubbed her. She’s standing with her back to the wall now, the stupid cat cradled in her arms. The guys move in close to her, forming a human triangle around her. One of them tugs at her dress, and she spins to face him. She doesn’t look particularly afraid, but she’s not looking directly at any of them.
And you shouldn’t be either, moron. You’ve got a job to do. Keep walking.
I stop walking.
Blowing out a long breath of resignation, I turn toward the scene on the sidewalk. As if possessed by a mind of their own, my feet move in that direction. My hands clench at my sides, tightening by increments the closer I get.
I’m not sure exactly what I plan to do when I get there. A couple of the guys are shorter than me, so I’d have the reach on them in a fistfight, but all three are considerably heavier. And in this neighborhood, probably armed. And did I mention there are three of them?
In spite of these very valid reasons to walk the other way, I don’t. Instead, when I reach the sidewalk, I step right up to the group and through the stinking, tattooed human chain surrounding the girl.
She’s older than I thought—maybe about eighteen. Prettier, too. Now that I get a good look at her, I can tell she’s not high. She is frightened though. She’s staring right at the sweat stain on the t-shirt of one of the guys, not making eye contact with any of them or with me. Her chest rises and falls with quick, shallow breaths. She’s probably catatonic with fear by this point.
Reaching for the ugly gray kitten, I say, “There you are, naughty kitty. Thank you, love, for finding her. I’ve been looking for Cupcake everywhere.”
“Who the hell are you?” the tallest of the guys demands.
“Well now I’ve just said that, haven’t I? I’m the owner of Cupcake here.”
“That cat’s a dude, man. And he’s running wild around here every day, begging for scraps.”
“Even more reason I’m thrilled to have him back. Now I must be going. And I’ll need the young lady to come with me. You see I filed a police report on my missing cat, and she’ll need to come in and give a statement that she returned him to me and did not, in fact, steal Cupcake. Someone might have witnessed her holding him and reported her already.”
One of the shorter guys laughs. “That’s bullshit man. The cops around here don
’t care about no missing cats.”
“Better safe than sorry,” I say and slide an arm around the girl’s back, steering her toward the street. She’s trembling and so is the kitten. “We’re going to my car,” I mutter to the girl. “Just come along and I’ll drop you somewhere safe.”
Her feet stop moving. “I don’t want to leave.”
What? How stupid is this girl? Or are people really that naïve where she’s from? “Don’t argue,” I urge under my breath. “Believe me—you want to leave—unless you particularly relish the prospect of gang rape and human trafficking.”
“Oh,” she says and starts moving again.
“Hey—English dude.”
Great. “Keep walking toward the Ferrari,” I say to the girl, tucking the cat under her arm again. I turn to face the delayed reaction of the neighborhood gang, who’ve finally realized I’m whisking their new toy away. “Yes?”
“We didn’t say she could leave. We were just getting to know Little Red there.”
“Yes well, I believe the young lady may be lost, and the last thing guys with your records need is a lost tourist disappearing on your turf—especially one who looks like this one. Now there’s something the cops will care about. All of you ready to have your houses and cars thoroughly searched?”
The three men exchange glances. The answer visible on all of their faces is a definitive “No.” My guess about their prison records was apparently spot on. Still, the leader of the group doesn’t like that I’ve defied him in front of his underlings.
He sticks his barrel chest out and curls his lips into a nasty smile. “Wonder if they’d care about a smart-mouth English guy with his ass beat in?”
I release a weary breath. “I’m from Australia, actually, and this conversation is getting tedious.” Eager to get the girl out of there and get to my meeting, I put a heavy dose of Sway into my next words. “Now you’re gonna turn around, walk back over to your men, and order them to follow you. Then the three of you will walk to the farthest edge of your ‘territory’ and pick a fight with someone closer to your own size—preferably a member of a rival gang. This city could use a few less hoodlums. Have a nice day, gentlemen.”
