Deadly Is the Kiss

by Rhyannon Byrd

  “How do you know?”

  He popped his jaw, the look of fury suddenly glittering in his eyes sending a shiver down her spine. “Because these people are friends of mine. Which means they despise the Delacourts as much as—” he broke off and ran his tongue over his teeth “—as much as most of the Förmyndares do.”

  She knew he’d been about to say as much as he did, but had stopped. For some reason, he didn’t want her to know what his connection was to Raphe Delacourt, or even that he had one. But she had no doubt there was something between them. At this point, she was starting to think Ashe might hate the crime lord almost as much as she did.

  “Not that it’s any of my business,” she murmured, arching one of her brows. “But isn’t it a little strange…I mean a Förmyndare being friends with known criminals?”

  Though his eyes still glinted with that hot, visceral glow, his expression softened, a cocky smile twitching on his lips. “I wouldn’t call my friends criminals, per se. Gideon and I think of them more as law manipulators.”

  She gave a quiet snort.

  “Seriously,” he said with an easy shrug, “I’m not friendly with murderers or rapists or terrorists. These are good people. They just aren’t happy with the current status quo, and they have their own ideas about how to bring about change.”

  “I’m surprised at you, Granger.” Her tone was teasing. “From the sound of it, you’re cronies with a bunch of revolutionaries!”

  “Revolutionaries, huh?” His smile flashed as he reached for the door. “I’ll have to pass that on to Knox. He’ll get a kick out of it.”

  “Who’s Knox?” she asked, following him inside the smoky interior, her eyes burning from the heavy veil of cigarette smoke lingering in the air.

  “Knox is the guy who owns this place.”

  Only a few tables near the front were still occupied at this hour, the rest of the customers having already headed home. Ashe said something to the flirty blonde counting the money in the cash register, and a moment later a tall, auburn-haired man stalked through the doorway at the far end of the bar, a scowl twisting his sensual mouth as he looked toward Ashe. He was wearing black jeans and a black T-shirt, his arms covered in intricate tattoos, another one climbing up the right side of his throat. Despite being big and mean and somewhat scary-looking, the male was undeniably attractive, an unmistakable air of wicked sexuality wrapping around his tall, muscular body as he paced toward them.

  Juliana kept her voice low, knowing from the man’s scent that he was some sort of shape-shifter, which meant his hearing would be exceptional. “Is it just me, or does he not look too happy to see you?”

  “Ignore the scowl. It’s his usual expression. Only time I’ve ever seen him smile is when he’s got two women on him and he’s in the middle of co—” He suddenly broke off, coughing into his fist, but she could see the smile he was trying to hide.

  “Lovely,” she drawled, lifting her brows. “You’ve brought me to one of your whoring buddies.”

  Instead of gloating, which she’d expected, Ashe slid her a considering gaze, his dark head cocked just a little to the side as he stared down at her. Quietly, he said, “You really don’t have a very high opinion of me, do you?”

  Looking away, she exhaled an unsteady breath. “Let’s just say I learned early on not to trust a beautiful face.”

  “Hmm,” he said in a low tone. “You’re not the only one who’s learned that lesson.”

  Before she could ask him to elaborate on that telling statement, the tattooed shifter reached them. He kept the ferocious-looking scowl in place until he stood nearly nose to nose with Ashe. Then a huge grin split his face and he threw a long arm around Ashe’s shoulders, whacking him on the back so hard it would have flattened a lesser man.

  “It’s been too long, you son of a bitch!” the shifter growled with genuine affection, giving Ashe another spine-cracking whack before pulling back and crossing his massive arms over his chest, his biceps straining the sleeves of his T-shirt in the same way she’d seen Ashe’s do. She thought she’d caught a bit of an Irish accent in his craggy voice, but couldn’t be sure.

  “I wish this was just a friendly visit,” Ashe said, “but I’ve got a problem I’m hoping you can help with.”

  The shifter slid an interested look toward Juliana, a wicked smile spreading over his handsome face. “No problem, boyo. I’ll be happy to help out with the little filly any way I can.”

  Little filly?

  Juliana blinked, while Ashe gave a husky laugh. “She’s not the problem, you ass. And you’re sure as hell not getting your sleazy hands on her.”

  “Damn,” the giant drawled, giving her a playful wink before shifting his curious gaze back to Ashe, waiting for him to explain.

  Placing his hand on her lower back in a strangely possessive gesture, Ashe first made the introductions, his voice dry. “Knox, this is Juliana, and you can stop leering at her anytime now. Juliana, this is Knox, criminal mastermind and unparalleled thief.” At her wary expression, he added, “Don’t worry. If anything, he’s more of a modern-day Robin Hood, only without the tights. And the charm, for that matter.”

  “How…interesting.”

  Knox gave her a slow smile as he snatched her hand, placing a lingering kiss on her knuckles. “Aren’t I just?” he drawled, before arching a dark brow at Ashe. “And I have more charm than you, you witless clod.”

  “God, don’t start,” he said with a heartfelt groan, jerking Juliana’s hand out of Knox’s grip…and keeping it in his own. “I can’t take your shit tonight.”

  Knox narrowed his dark blue eyes. “Yeah, now that you mention it, you do look like shit. There’s something grim around your eyes.”

  Lowering his voice, Ashe said, “You’re going to have that same grim look when I tell you we’re searching for information on the Delacourts.”

  Knox whistled softly, then suggested they take the conversation to one of the tables in the back of the room, away from the staff, who were now cleaning up after what appeared to have been a rough, bacchanalian kind of night, several pieces of broken bar stools still littering the floor, as well as some racy lingerie hanging from the overhead light fixtures. At a signal from Knox, the blonde behind the bar brought them each a tall, icy bottle of beer. Knox took a long drink of the dark brew, then looked at Ashe. “What’s your interest in the Delacourts?”

  Ashe briefly explained the situation, relaying what Juliana had told him, and Knox listened with keen interest, his dark eyes sharp with intelligence. He didn’t come right out and call her a liar, but she had the uncomfortable feeling that he thought there was more to the story than what she had shared, the same as Ashe did.

  As he wrapped up his explanation, Ashe’s deep voice took on a raw edge. “So we have reason to believe the Delacourts have taken out assassination orders against Juliana and her family in order to…keep the whole thing quiet.”

  Knox gave another soft whistle as he leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. “If anyone has the kind of money to fund an operation like that, especially when the targets are inside the Wasteland, it would be the Delacourts.”

  Sprawling sideways in his chair, Ashe thumped his knuckles against the scarred surface of the table. “That’s what I was thinking. Raphe’s drug money has given the family a substantial bankroll for the past decade.”

  A stunned sound slipped past her lips. “That long?”

  “Easily,” Knox replied, locking his dark gaze with hers. “Ashe could tell you more about it than I could, but Raphe got started when he was little more than a pup. You can guarantee that if it’s illegal and it makes money, then he’s got one of his sticky fingers in the pie.”

  “Wow.” From the corner of her eye, she caught the intense way Ashe was looking at her, and quickly said, “I’m just surprised. I mean, I knew he was considered a criminal back then, but I’d always thought that until recently he was into more…um, gentlemanly crimes.” Whatever those were.


  “Gentlemanly crimes?” Knox gave a low laugh, flashing Ashe a smile. “I like this girl, Granger.”

  “If we can get back on topic,” he muttered. “Have you heard anything that could be useful to us?”

  Knox lowered his arms, scrubbing one huge hand across the auburn stubble on his jaw. “Actually, there’s a lot of talk going on about Raphe at the moment.”

  Ashe leaned forward, crossing his arms on the table. “What kind of talk?”

  “His mama’s always been powerful. You know that as well as I. But the rumor going around is that her son is forcing her to make some kind of monumental power play within the Council. One that will shake the foundations of clan society.”

  “Anything specific?”

  “You know ol’ Selingham?” Knox asked, reaching for his beer again.

  Juliana was familiar with the name, recalling an old, decrepit vampire who had served on the Deschanel Council for centuries.

  “I know him,” Ashe replied with a nod, his voice getting rougher. “What happened?”

  Knox tilted his bottle to his lips, taking a long swallow, then wiped the back of his wrist over his mouth. “He turned up dead a little over a week ago.”

  “Natural causes?”

  Setting his bottle back down on the table, Knox snorted. “Hardly. He was supposedly mauled to death by a rogue Lycanthrope while at the Deschanel Court in Rome.” The Deschanel courts were where all the high-ranking officials within the Deschanel clan lived and worked, as well as the Council. There were several official court compounds scattered across Europe, the court itself moving from one location to the next as the mood struck them.

  Ashe’s breath hissed through his teeth in response to Knox’s news. “Like hell that would have happened. The courts have some of the most stringent security there is. No way could a rogue have gotten inside without it being a setup. Is there an investigation?”

  “That’s the thing,” Knox murmured, shaking his head. “The whole case was apparently wrapped up within a few hours and judged a freak accident. One of those momentary lapses in security, if you can believe that bullshit.”

  “Christ,” Ashe muttered, leaning back in his chair, his expression as dark as the look in his eyes. He had his hands fisted at his sides. “The Delacourts must have them by the balls.”

  “I’d say they’re holding on tight, and any second now, they’re going to just rip the damn things off,” Knox drawled.

  Flinching from the gruesome image his words put in her mind, Juliana looked at Ashe. “What does he mean?”

  “He means they’re going to destroy the Council,” he grated, the lines of strain around his eyes and mouth getting deeper. “Then dissolve the Court…and put themselves in power.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  SITTING AT A CORNER TABLE in Knox’s bar the following afternoon, Ashe took a slow sip of his whiskey, his mind running over everything that had happened since he’d found Juliana…and everything that he’d learned. Someone was going to a hell of a lot of trouble to set this thing up, putting him and Juliana in league together, and he wanted to know why.

  Even more than that, though, he wanted confirmation of who was behind the assassination orders against the Sabins…and Juliana herself. Was it really Raphe Delacourt, and if so, why go to the trouble of killing the family now? Was the bastard worried that someone in the Sabin family could pose a threat to him? And if so, then what was the threat? According to Juliana, no one had believed their claims nine years ago that Lenora’s accusations were false. So why the fear that someone might believe them now? And was that someone the person who had plotted Juliana’s escape from the Wasteland?

  Or were they being deliberately steered off course? Was it some unknown enemy hiring the assassins, with some unknown grievance against her family?

  Ashe didn’t know the answers, and the questions were running his brain ragged. Not to mention the sexual hunger ripping through his insides that wouldn’t ease up. He supposed there was more truth to the old saying “no good deed goes unpunished” than he’d ever actually realized. In trying to help the little vampire, he was putting himself through hell. Even Knox had noticed how much strain he was under, the shifter’s crude teasing throughout the day his way of showing concern.

  In the early hours of the morning, Ashe had left Juliana upstairs in the room Knox had given them, telling her to get some rest while she could. Knowing he needed to get things moving as quickly as possible, he’d put off sleep and spent the day working with Knox. They’d both met with various informants, setting up feelers across the underground networks that Knox moved in, hoping information would soon start trickling in.

  There were still a lot of calls he needed to make, which meant he needed to concentrate, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the female cuddling up in that bed upstairs by herself. Christ, where was his blasted control when he needed it?

  For what must be the hundredth time, he wondered if it was possible that she felt the same need that he did. That same inexorable pull. Throughout the night, he’d caught the way she constantly watched him from the corner of her eye when she thought he wasn’t paying attention. And then there was the way she’d reacted to him back in London. She’d been so hot she’d practically singed him. So responsive he’d just wanted to keep pushing her over that sweet, melting edge, feeling her come for him again and again, until he’d laid claim to every part of her.

  He wished he knew what was going on in that stubborn head of hers. Hell, he wished he knew everything about her. And he wasn’t above snooping to learn what he could. While she’d taken a quick shower after he’d walked her up to their room, Ashe had looked through the pack she carried with her. He knew money had been left for her in the pack, and that she’d used it to buy some things after her escape from the Wasteland. His mouth curved with a grim smile as he recalled the things he’d found. There’d been none of the frivolous cosmetics that so many women would have seen as a necessity. Instead, Juliana had purchased a couple of romance novels and several self-help books. The romance novels had been a surprise, simply because he hadn’t expected her to be a romantic. He wondered if she read them back at the Sabin compound, and if so, why? Was it because she needed to escape into another world…or did she simply get lonely, even when surrounded by her relatives?

  And don’t forget the men who work for them.

  He scowled, hating the thought of the brawny males, who had basically served under Juliana’s command, servicing her in more intimate ways. And hating that he hated it.

  Throwing off the irritating emotion, he focused his thoughts on the self-help books that he’d found, the titles suggesting they were about grief and guilt. He wished he knew exactly what she felt so guilty about. Did it have to do with her family’s banishment? Despite how intensely he’d searched, he’d never been able to find anyone who could give him so much as a hint as to why the Sabin family was living in exile. There were no records of their punishment in the official Council documents, and no one in the Court had even been willing to discuss the case with him. Not even the old friends of his parents and grandparents, who had always been willing to help him and Gideon in their investigations when they needed it.

  A sultry, feminine laugh suddenly drew him out of his reverie, and he looked toward the entrance of the bar, where Knox stood chatting with Ashe’s next appointment, the woman’s gaze glittering with interest as she flirted with the auburn-haired shifter. He wasn’t surprised by her reaction. Knox had the height and build of a soldier, and the air of dominance, as well. In the past, Ashe had seen women fawn over the guy’s tattoos and shoulder-length auburn hair more times than he could count, and had heard dozens refer to the shifter’s face as “wickedly sinful.”

  He wondered if Juliana had thought the same thing, another uncomfortable wave of jealousy biting him hard in the ass.

  Choking back a sharp curse, he watched as the female—who was a powerful witch, as well as a scientist—eventually made her way ov
er to his table, her shapely figure wrapped in brightly colored swaths of jewel-colored silks, her black hair falling in heavy waves to the small of her back. Her name was Sybil Le Fleur and she worked with a healer Ashe had met in the Wasteland named Gabby Reyker, a quirky little vamp with a talent for concocting antidotes and cures. Gabby was also friendly with Juliana, but then Jules was just one of those women who others found it difficult to dislike, her personality the kind that put others at ease. She was warm and caring, without being insincere and annoying.