Wicked Ride

by Rebecca Zanetti

  Kellach inhaled slowly. “Simone moved to Seattle when we did—about three months ago as part of our investigation.”

  “Why Seattle? Why in the world is Apollo hitting the streets here?” She pressed on, already getting answers but needing more.

  “Test ground.” He shrugged. “Seriously. To see how the drug works on the street. It has also given them, whoever they are, time to weaponize it. There’s a decent witch population here, as well, so they might be test subjects and not know it. Soon it’ll be unleashed on my streets in Dublin. I have to stop it before then.”

  “Where did Simone live before Seattle?” Lex asked, wondering if he’d lie.

  “Why?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Tell me the truth.”

  His expression didn’t change, but he waited a moment before answering. Thinking it out? Figuring that she’d be able to track Simone anyway? “New York. For about twenty years, Simone lived in New York.”

  The truth. Interesting. Because he wanted to be truthful, or because that was a fact easily discovered? “Doing what?”

  “Whatever she wanted to do.” Kellach shrugged. “Many of the Nine members live around the world. They have conference calls and get together a few times during the year—just like most companies.”

  Time for a bombshell. “How long did she date Trevan Demidov?”

  Kell stilled. Slowly, his head lifted.

  She fought every instinct in her body not to step back or drop into a fighting stance. She held her ground and kept his gaze. “Kell?”

  “What do you know about Demidov?” he rumbled.

  She shrugged. “Not enough. Tell me more.”

  He slowly shook his head and stretched to his feet. “’Tis time you and I came to an understanding. You might not like it right now, or in the near future, but someday, I hope you’ll see my reasoning.”

  Oh, she so didn’t like where this was going. “I have no problem shooting you.”

  He sighed. “Alexandra, just hear me out. Apollo wasn’t created as a money-making drug or for humans. It was tested on humans but was created to hurt witches, which soon will include you.”

  “I am not turning into a witch.”

  “Of course not. You can’t change into another species, but you can become immortal as a mate, and as a witch mate, you’ll be susceptible to the mineral.”

  Fair enough, and a concern for a different day. “Who is Demidov and what’s Simone’s connection to him?”

  “Why?”

  Stalemate. They faced each other, holding tight to facts, neither giving an inch.

  “Tell me, or I’m out of here,” she said.

  He lifted one eyebrow. “I don’t respond well to ultimatums. You might want to rethink your approach.” The inherent threat in the words poked her temper.

  “Fine.” She settled her stance. “Either tell me about Demidov, or be prepared for another arrest. You’re hindering my investigation.”

  “I’m about to hinder your freedom.”

  Damn wrong thing to say.

  “I will arrest you.”

  “Try it.”

  She blinked.

  Thus far, Kellach had been rather gentle with her, but his implacable expression hinted that the predator she’d sensed beneath his soft touch and kind treatment had tired of lurking.

  “I do not appreciate your visiting your father in the correctional facility all alone.”

  “We’re about to have one huge-assed fight,” she murmured.

  “I get that.” Not one six-foot-five inch of him was backing down.

  For the first time, she realized how much he’d held back. How much he’d tempered his nature last week. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not who I thought?” she asked, curiosity filling her head, and warning filling her heart.

  “I’ve showed you who I am, but I’d hoped to ease you into being the mate of an enforcer.” His hands hung loosely at his sides, and his pose remained relaxed, but the power of him still overwhelmed the atmosphere of the room.

  The very essence of Kellach sped up her breath and flushed heat through her. He not only ruled the atmosphere, he changed it with the sense of male. “What? There’s a special handshake I haven’t learned yet?”

  “Funny.” He didn’t appear amused. “For my people, a mate can be either the greatest weakness or the greatest strength.”

  She’d never been either for anybody. “That’s unfortunate.”

  “How so?” he asked, his voice lowering.

  “Too much pressure on both parties,” she said levelly.

  He slipped his hands into his pockets. “Too much trust, you mean.” He cocked his head to the side. “You’ve never trusted anybody that much, have you?”

  “Sure.”

  “Not a man.” No judgment, only thoughtful contemplation rode his tone.

  The spit in her mouth dried up. “Sure, I have. I trust Bernie that much.”

  “Do you, now?” Kell trapped her gaze and kept it. “Did you tell him about me being a witch who’d mated you?”

  “Of course not,” she snapped.

  “Why not? If you trusted him, you would’ve told him the entire story—opened yourself up to ridicule possibly.” Kell’s voice gentled.

  “Bullshit. There’s no need for Bernie to know about witches.” Her breath heated on the end at the direct hit, but she’d never admit it. Not to Kell. Not even to herself, if she could avoid it.

  “I’d like for you to be my strength, Alexandra.” His eyes glittered with an expression she couldn’t identify but wasn’t sure she liked.

  “Not for me,” she said slowly, her lungs compressing.

  “Too late. If anything happened to you, my heart would be ripped out.” He lifted one muscled shoulder. “So I can’t let anything happen to you, now can I?”

  Pleasure burst through her at the declaration—followed by unease. “I can protect myself, but thank you for the hint that you were about to turn into a Neanderthal. I’m glad we had this discussion.” She tried to keep sarcasm at bay and failed miserably.

  “I do appreciate that we’re on the same wavelength.” Sarcasm from Kell still seemed classy. “So I’m going to ask you, very nicely, if you wouldn’t mind taking a leave of absence and visiting my home in Dublin for a short time.”

  “No.”

  “You can take your mother and sister with you, all expenses paid, and have a lovely vacation,” he continued.

  “No.”

  “That way, I can take care of the drug issue here and then join you in my homeland, which I truly believe you’ll enjoy.” His tone remained level, but he drew his hands free of the pockets.

  “No.”

  “You’re in danger here, Alexandra, and it’s my fault. You’re in danger because you’re my mate, and you’re in danger from a witch, so this is my responsibility, and I have to take action.” His words, no longer warm and calm, emerged clipped.

  “No.” She ignored his rapidly approaching anger and focused. “Why do you think I’m in danger?”

  Kell’s gaze remained steady. “Whoever’s behind Apollo will discover, at some point, that you’re mine. You will be in danger at that point.”

  She’d ignore the archaic language for the moment. “Good. Let them try to come and get me.”

  “That’s not how I work. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry—be pissed.” Her blood pumped faster with the thrill of a good hunt. “We can take them down. Bad guys are bad guys regardless of the location or, ah, species.”

  “My duty is to you and to the Coven Nine. If you’re in danger, my focus is split. So you’re going to Ireland, Alexandra.”

  She smiled. “No, I’m not.” It wasn’t the time to arrest him, and frankly, if they fought hand-to-hand, she’d lose. “I’m going to find out everything about Simone and Trevan Demidov, but I’d rather you just told me the truth.”

  “I’d rather you told me why.”

  “According to my sources, Demidov is somebody I
need to investigate regarding Apollo. I did and found his connection to your cousin . . . interesting.” She waited for his response.

  “Your sources? You mean, your father?”

  She blinked. It figured Kell would have decent sources of his own.

  “Yes.”

  “Demidov is dead.” Kellach rubbed a hand through his dark hair. “He and Simone dated, he kidnapped her, and he ultimately died for it. Not a good source.”

  “There’s no record of his death.” At least, none she’d found so far.

  “My friend ripped off his head, so I can promise you, Demidov isn’t around any longer.” A veil dropped over Kell’s eyes.

  She’d check relatives of Demidov. The lead was a good one, or her father wouldn’t have tempted her with it. “Thanks for the info. I’ll be in touch.” She turned to go.

  That quickly, without making a sound, Kellach blocked the door in front of her. “You’re not going anywhere, Alexandra.”

  Chapter 27

  She paused, her breath catching at his speed. “How did you do that?”

  “I moved quickly.” He leaned back against the door, the pose casual, the expression he wore anything but.

  Close to him, her skin heated, the brand on her hip burned, and arousal danced through her body. She swallowed. “Get out of my way.”

  “No.” His voice roughened.

  She planted one hand on his chest—hard. “I’m not some damsel in distress you hide in a country far away. I’m a cop, and a damn good one. Now get the hell out of my way so I can go do my job.”

  Slowly, deliberately, he lifted his arm and checked his watch. “You’re off the clock, Detective.”

  She shoved, and he didn’t move an inch. “I’m trying to be reasonable here, I really am, but if you don’t move, I’m arresting you.”

  So he moved.

  One second, she stood, hand on his chest. The next, she found her back against the door, her ass in his hands, and her legs straddling his hips. It should’ve pissed her off, but shocked humor bubbled through her, and she threw back her head to laugh. “God, you do move fast,” she gasped.

  “Don’t be cute.” He leaned in, his mouth an inch away, his gaze keeping hers. “I can’t fight cute right now.”

  In her entire life, nobody had ever called her cute. She blinked. “I want to trust you. So badly, I want to trust you.” The words were ripped from deep within her, and she couldn’t bite them back. Vulnerability swamped her, but she couldn’t move. Couldn’t retreat and regroup.

  He exhaled, his fingers tightening on her butt. “I like all of you, Alexandra, but this sweetness nearly drops me to my knees.” His mouth brushed hers. “It’s just for me, isn’t it?”

  She nodded, seeing no reason to lie. “Don’t ask me to be somebody I’m not. Please.”

  His body shuddered, and he studied her, those deep eyes delving into everything she was. Finally, he lifted his head. “No running and hiding, then.”

  “No.” She knew what it cost him, what a guy like him had to fight within himself not to shove her into a safe cocoon while he slayed dragons. An enforcer for centuries? Yeah, she got that. “We can fight together, though.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  She lifted her head so quickly, she knocked into the door. “What?”

  “No fighting. Not together, and not at all.” He kept her in place. “You can do your job as a cop, with humans. But witches? They’re mine and you stay clear.”

  Criminals were criminals, as far as she was concerned. “I protect Seattle.”

  “From human criminals. This is a compromise, and you’d better take it while it’s offered.”

  That quickly, desire slid to anger. “The second I think you’re not a moron, the very moment I think we’re on the same page, you fuck it up.” She struggled against him, shoving him, trying to push back against the door enough to get some leverage. “Let me go.”

  “Never.”

  She folded her hand into a fist and punched him in the throat.

  He didn’t blink.

  Awareness zapped through her, and she opened her mouth, but no sound emerged.

  A knock behind the door shocked her.

  “Kell? Let me in. We have a problem,” a female voice barked.

  Kellach gave Lex a warning glance, turned and set her on her feet before opening the door.

  Simone swept in, high-heeled black boots clicking on the marble tiles. Her glorious hair had been piled high on her head in a casual clasp. “You’re not gonna—” She stopped cold. “Well, hello, Detective.”

  Kell stepped between them. “Now isn’t a good time. Could we catch up a little later, Simone?”

  Lex elbowed him and stepped to the side. “Actually, I was hoping you’d tell me how you knew Trevan Demidov and where he is today.”

  Simone paled. Her chin lifted. Old wounds glimmered in her eyes, but she met Alexandra’s gaze evenly. “For a brief time, Trevan was my lover. Then he kidnapped me and my cousin, as well as Cara Kayrs, Garrett’s mum. You’ve met him, right?”

  Lex nodded and ignored the angry tension rolling off Kellach. “Yes.”

  Simone sniffed, her gaze turning cold. “A vampire killed Trevan, and he’s been dead and not missed for decades.” She moved toward Lex, her grace somehow threatening. “Why do you ask?”

  “Rumor has it he might have something to do with Apollo.” Lex held her ground, although she could appreciate how someone might want to stay wary around Simone. The woman promised death in an oddly sensual way. However, hurt glimmered in her eyes.

  “Considering he lost his head, I doubt he’s behind the current problem.” Simone stopped an inch from Lex.

  Kellach wrapped a hand around Simone’s arm and tugged her toward the open door. “If you don’t mind, I’d like a word with my mate.”

  Lex jumped into gear to follow. “Actually, I’ll walk Simone out.”

  Kellach turned and planted a hand on her chest, moving her back two feet. “I don’t think so.”

  Simone sauntered past him and slammed the door in her wake. The echo vibrated through the suddenly too quiet apartment.

  Lex licked her lips and took a discreet step backward.

  Kell’s hand dropped, and anger swirled in his eyes. “That wasn’t necessary.”

  Sure, it was. “If you’d told me the whole truth, I wouldn’t have needed to ask her.”

  “Trevan nearly devastated Simone, and you just brought the nightmare back.” Kell advanced on her, every step a threat. “’Twas unnecessary and cruel, and you won’t behave such a way in my flat again.”

  Her head snapped up. “Then get the hell out of my way, and I’ll leave.”

  “You’re not going anywhere.” He continued to advance, a pissed-off male.

  She snapped. Anger rushed through her, dark in intensity. Out of nowhere, fire crackled on her skin, and she let the fury flow.

  He stopped moving and lifted an eyebrow. “You sure you want to play?”

  For answer, she closed her hand into a fist and concentrated on creating fire. Heat flared along her palm. Opening her fingers, she allowed a ball to morph into life, just as he’d taught her.

  “One warning, Alexandra,” he said, his focus on her hand.

  Unnecessary. Pivoting, she turned and threw the fire with every ounce of strength she could summon.

  The weapon pummeled into the door, spreading out and leaving a scorched circle.

  “Feel better?” Kell asked, arrogance cutting lines into his handsome face.

  Oh, hell no. She sucked deep and formed another ball of fire. Her aim would be better this time. Concentrating, she drew back and threw for center mass.

  The fire reached him, and he captured the ball, rubbing the flame out with his fingers, his gaze remaining on her.

  Her breath caught. He held out his palm and formed a glowing, flickering, green ball of flames. Lifting it to his mouth, he blew. The mass gently, slowly, cascaded over oxygen molecules toward her.


  She leaned back against the wall, ready to duck.

  The flames widened, spreading head to toe, and slid into her.

  She cried out, panic shutting her eyes.

  The smell of smoke filled her nose, and heat licked her skin. Nothing hurt. Slowly, she opened her eyes and then gasped. Her clothing lay in a smoldering heap at her feet.

  Losing any semblance of control, she launched herself at him, hitting him in the gut and plowing them both into the far wall. An original oil of Baffin Cliffs tumbled down, the frame cracking in two.

  Kellach encircled her and twisted, rolling her under him while kicking the painting toward the kitchen.

  She punched up, furious, the hard tiles chilling her bare ass. “You basta—”

  His mouth on hers, hard and angry, shoved the words back down her throat. He kissed her deep, holding her in place, his tongue taming hers. Desire ripped through her with rough claws, awakening her every nerve.

  Still, she struggled against him, kissing him back, her hands shoving at his chest, burning his shirt into ragged shreds of silk that fell to the floor.

  “Alexandra,” he warned against her mouth.

  She bit his lip.

  His thumb brushed her clit, and heat flared between her legs, flames licking her labia.

  She cried out, arching into his hand, even while trying to hold still. The flames, under his control, kissed her thighs. She spread her legs to keep from getting burned, even as need pounded into her sex.

  His jeans heated, flashed, and disappeared, leaving him nude.

  He fingered her slit.

  “No,” she gasped, forcing herself to stop moving.

  “Yes,” he murmured against her lips, his tongue sliding inside just as his finger, dancing with barely-tamed fire, slipped inside her.

  Liquid heat filled her with unbearable pleasure. She cried out, her eyes closing. Fear heightened the already out of control desire, and she stopped breathing, her body rioting. He heated her internally to a craving too intense to quench.

  It wasn’t possible. His ability to harness fire with such accuracy—enough to lick inside her but not damage. The burn, though. God, the burn.

  Hot spasms relentlessly took her, crashing through her, throwing her into a climax so intense she screamed his name. The second she wound down, he increased the heat, shoving her high again to ride the edge between pleasure and pain.