Hypnotizing Beat

by Katherine McIntyre

  Danica’s shoulders heaved, flecks of the charcoal liquid staining her porcelain cheeks. Her eyes shone with a crazed, desperate light, and she bared her teeth like a wild thing.

  He wasn’t sure whether he’d ever known her at all. “You owe me an explanation,” he said, crossing his arms as he wiped the slick fluid on his soles against the carpeting.

  Danica straightened, slipped off her brass knuckles, and shook out her fighting fist. “All right, lasso of truth time. You’re not the only one who Tymarch Alberich has a mark on. I’m the latest addition to his hit list, and I want to take that bastard down.”

  Chapter Two

  After that truth bomb, Danica couldn’t return to snarky quips behind the shield of a martini glass. Though, the option faded the moment the ankou got the jump on her.

  With the way she left things between her and the boys of Discord’s Desire, she should be crushed with guilt. Truth be told, she was—to a point. However, Danica had done the moral tango before, and survival won every time. She and her sister wouldn’t have lived past childhood otherwise.

  Danica brushed the drops of ankou blood from her cheeks, smearing the liquid in the process. Thankfully she’d worn a black dress, so any residual would blend. Trevor gaped at her, and she was tempted to shove something into his mouth just to see what he’d do about it.

  “Yeah, that’s right. You’re not the only fae on the block with a bounty over their head.” She placed a hand over her mouth in mock horror. “I know how you hate to share the limelight.” Grabbing a handkerchief from her purse, she wrapped up the copper knuckles.

  “And your brilliant idea was to band together so we attracted an even higher concentration of his bounty hunters?” Trevor’s voice sharpened with distrust—not like she blamed him.

  “Excuse me,” Danica responded. “I thought out of anyone in my rolodex, you’d jump on the opportunity to be free from Alberich. For good.”

  His dark eyes gleamed with an allure she’d noticed from the start. Intelligence flared in his gaze, the keen, razor sharp sort that always commanded her attention. She gambled on his survival instinct, but she knew a thing or two about the lengths one would go to for freedom.

  Trevor extended an arm. “Let’s walk and talk.”

  She looped her arm through his, catching the hickory and leather scent she couldn’t get enough of. “And here I thought you hated my guts,” she teased.

  Trevor cast her a glance. “Politeness doesn’t cost a thing, even if I’m offering a hand to the devil herself.”

  That shut Danica up. What she regretted most about her tactical reroute involving Discord’s Desire was how that left her and a certain banshee guitarist. Because from the moment she’d met Trevor, the sparks between them had promised to turn into something explosive—brilliant. Not anymore.

  They wove through the Venetian with ease, barely drawing a second glance from the glazed patrons who sat at the machines, staring at the screens. It hadn’t taken Danica long to learn how to disappear in a city like Vegas. So many people shuffled through, burning like the last gasp of a candle, and just as many roamed with those flames extinguished like the walking dead. Slot machines jangled, neon lights flashed, and even at four in the morning, the crowds hadn’t diminished.

  Danica led the way, her vigilance a persistent itch on the back of her neck. She kept glancing to Trevor, the need to talk burning her tongue. He brimmed with a seriousness as black as her morning coffee, so she stayed silent. They walked arm in arm like they might be friends, lovers, anything but the truth. The divide blazed between them as if chalk outlines had been drawn.

  Trevor didn’t even turn to acknowledge her until they stepped outside the Venetian. Not for the first time, she cursed her lack of friends. Apart from her sister, Danica had acquaintances and temporary alliances. That was how it had always been, her and Lenora against the world. She drank in the sharp, pre-dawn air, even drier out here.

  “So, tell me, why should I believe you?” Trevor asked, a careful edge to his tone. He walked with a casual stride, his long legs carrying him so fast she needed to quicken her pace.

  She’d struck too many deals in the past to not know where she stood. Deliver the wrong answer here and he’d walk away, no matter how curious he was.

  Danica lifted her chin and held his gaze. She hadn’t missed the scars along his arms, or one around his neck like a collar. Maybe that’s why she’d been drawn to Trevor from the start—because she would burn the entire Otherworld to keep from being caged.

  “I might not have loyalty in spades, but I never lied to you the entire time we worked together. My objective was Larsen, because I will go to any length to protect my sister. I apply the same ruthlessness to protecting my freedom.” She paused, the bitterness seeping into her words. They’d stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk, folks jostling them as they bumbled by. Trevor’s stare pinned her to the pavement, the scrutiny making her sweat. She held her ground.

  “Tymarch Alberich threatens that freedom,” she stated. “I looked into your history, Arceneaux. You’ve got every reason in the world to want him dead, and after the hit he put on you in the Lotus Garden, I know you’ve been hounded.”

  Trevor crossed his arms over his broad chest, stretching the fabric of his worn leather jacket. “Better question, then. What do you want from me?”

  Danica licked her lips on impulse, but she kept her eyes on the target. “I managed to get intel from a connection of mine who works for him. Apparently, he keeps a certain family heirloom tucked away in this city. However, I’m not fool enough to believe I can march in there and steal it by my lonesome.”

  Trevor ran a hand through his silver strands before letting out a short exhale. Still, he didn’t walk away. Danica counted the small victory. “You’re serious, aren’t you,” he murmured, his rich, deep voice with the Southern twang gliding right through her. The way he scrutinized her, she couldn’t get away with her normal backtalk and deflection. Not right now.

  She lifted a brow. “If I wasn’t serious, do you think I’d be doing this walk of shame? It’s not my style in the slightest.”

  He opened his mouth to respond when his attention fixated to the right.

  Danica followed his gaze.

  A couple of blocks down, she spotted the point of fascination. Even in Vegas, the group of three gorgeous guys in leather jackets and the tough-ass chick in ripped jeans drew attention. The satyr with the pointed horns, the incubus with those long fangs, and the siren’s greenish skin stood as a direct contrast to the human-appearing chick beside them. Not like the crew of Discord’s Desire could go anywhere without drawing attention—even with the veil of glamour, their charisma flew off the charts.

  Danica wasn’t ready for the full reunion tour yet.

  She reached out to press a business card into his palm. “Looks like Kieran Blackmore and the Sunshine Gang are paying a visit. Give me a ring sometime and we’ll chat.”

  Danica stalked off in the opposite direction, her heels clicking against the concrete. She couldn’t help the glance back to Liz O’Brien, who was the closest she’d come in years to befriending anyone.

  Trevor already strode toward his bandmates, and Kieran exploded in a fury of gestures and loud words that tipped off his worry in a heartbeat. Their sort of camaraderie was rare, especially among the fae. Apart from Lenora, no one would blink if she went missing for a few hours, let alone died. As if that didn’t sink like a stone in her gut.

  Danica tore her gaze away from Discord’s Desire. Ahead, the Tropicana’s lights blazed orange, the Bellagio’s fountains leapt high, and Mandalay Bay loomed, hundreds of windows lit up like a starry sky. The streets swarmed with folks barely clutching their beers, two steps from disappearing into an alley never to be seen again. Despite all the neon lights blazing in desperation, they couldn’t hide the ink shadows of every corner and pocket. Danica had seen enough of life to know the truth. No matter how much light shone on a contagion, the rot would
pervade until it consumed.

  ****

  Danica hadn’t dolled up for a rock show in ages. Her preferred clients were acoustic crooners, artistry and angst seeping from their pores. They tasted delicious. The chunky heels of her boots slammed against the pavement, and she had pulled out a lace-up corset top to pair with the skintight bodycon dress beneath. Spiked bracelets jangled around her wrists, but she couldn’t quit her scarves, this time an electric green one.

  The Joint was flush with people lining up to enter this secretive show that had been whispered about through the crowds like wildfire. Even if the boys managed to scrub most of their live shows from YouTube, their reputation for raunchy preceded them. Watching the human orgies erupt created its own brand of entertainment, even if she didn’t siphon energy from passion like most of the band.

  This early on in the night, the strip reeked of booze without the vomit afterbite, and savory scents of roasting hot dogs and greasy burgers wafted out from the small restaurants near-buried under the monoliths beside them. Her skin prickled as she strode through the crowds. Danica had always been vigilant, but the bounty over her head awakened a new urgency.

  She flashed her ticket and maneuvered her way inside. With the privacy of the event and the high security keeping out strangers, this was the prime opportunity to meet with her contact. Besides, she enjoyed watching the boys play. The raw charisma and sexuality offered a potent brew, and with humans and fae alike writhing about in the crowd, she could have her cloak and dagger convo in relative peace.

  How they’d booked and filled a show this large was beyond her, since the boys weren’t a household name in the slightest. Liz had a knack for attracting the right crowds at the right time though, and if anywhere could accommodate the ‘Most Depraved Show on Earth’ then Vegas would be the place. Voices filtered around the entryway, the spark of excitement bouncing from person to person as folks stepped to coat check or lined up to enter the arena.

  Apparently, the selling point hadn’t been Discord’s Desire, but the sheer secrecy of the show. Questions buzzed through the air from everyone around her. Who was playing tonight? What sort of twisted would they see? Excitement flared in every gaze, and Danica’s lips curled in amusement. With the way Discord’s Desire stirred a crowd into orgies, these folks wouldn’t be leaving disappointed.

  She stepped inside the arena, neon blue lighting glowing down upon her. Danica made a beeline for the bar. The sheer numbers of people pouring into the seats and the floor in front of the mainstage made her nerves dance. Anywhere in this crowd, Alberich’s men could be lurking. Once upon a time, before the hunters declared war, Alberich wouldn’t have sent bounty hunters out into the human realm. Fae conducted their warfare in the Otherworld, as was proper, keeping a reasonable distance from the human realms.

  However, then the hunters had emerged from their anonymity, humans born with the ability to see through glamour, and families trained on every way to disarm and kill fae. A whole bunch of Buffy the Fae Slayers. When the hunters began to leave a trail of corpses, their former rules ceased relevance.

  Most of the barstools were taken, though a large, conspicuous purse inhabited one. Danica lifted a brow as she neared. The owner of the purse was a petite woman with pale green skin, the exact yaksha she searched for. Glamour would shade the sharp fangs and the glowing gold eyes of the woman who perched in the barstool, a flared black dress accenting the emerald shade of her skin.

  “Marisa Kincaid, you foxy minx,” Danica announced from behind her.

  Marisa swiveled around in her seat, a martini glass in hand. “Danica Maslanka, it’s about time we convened in person.” Her dry tone offered the antidote to the nerves brewing inside Danica, and she took a seat beside the yaksha. The bartender roved her way, so she placed an order for a rose martini.

  Danica settled in her seat, elbows behind her on the counter as she faced the stage. The boys had already started their prep, Kieran testing out the microphone while Trevor fiddled with his amps. “How’s the family doing?” she asked Marisa, as a professional courtesy of course. Her brother Leo Kincaid happened to be the co-owner of Alberich’s company, so Danica had always maintained her friendly relationship with his sister.

  Marisa cast her a sidelong look. “You know I wouldn’t be here if Leo wasn’t fed up with his partner. Not with the continent-sized bounty over your head.”

  Danica shrugged and accepted the rose martini from the bartender with a wink. “I signed for a loan with him, not a life sentence. He wasn’t just going to repo my business but demanded I pay the rest of the loan off as one of his menagerie. I’m nobody’s pet.”

  Marisa lifted her martini glass in response as the first thrums of music rolled through the arena. “Here, here. My brother has found the practice repulsive, and we’ve been looking for a way to get out of our ties with Alberich for a long time. Unfortunately, you can understand with the way our businesses are connected, we can’t dive into that morass on our own.”

  “Which is where I come in,” Danica murmured. She’d known from the moment she spoke to Marisa that she’d be the point person in this escapade. If everything went tits up, she alone would pay the penance. This wasn’t her first rodeo around the Seelie circuit.

  “Your work in outing Larsen Blackmore for his crimes was the tipping point in Leo’s decision. If you were able to maneuver a higher-echelon Court shark like that, he believes you’re ready to take on his partner.”

  Danica sipped at her rose martini instead of answering. Marisa had nothing to lose in this endeavor, and she had everything. Backed into a corner like this though, she wasn’t flush with options. Her gaze lingered on the guitarist of Discord’s Desire. He didn’t have many options either, and from the intel she’d gotten, Trevor knew firsthand what being Tymarch Alberich’s pet looked like.

  Kieran stepped to the microphone. “Everyone ready for the best show you’ve seen all year?” he asked. The crowd, brimming with anticipation of the unknown, responded with screams that shook the rafters. “We are Discord’s Desire,” he growled, the sound reverberating through the venue.

  The effects of his voice dropped onto the crowd like a pheromone bomb. All the humans in the audience paid close attention in the wake of the lead singer’s silken announcement. Danica had watched this party train before and knew any minute it would be pulling into Bone Central Station.

  When Trevor’s fingers drifted across the guitar strings and the first sinful note pierced through the crowd, the sound ignited the crowd into a frenzy. She found herself sitting up and paying attention to the careful way he plucked the chords as he led the intro of their opening song. The concentration on his face was pure, almost unguarded compared to every other interaction with him. The tender way he caressed the guitar, how he strummed the strings to his whim made her regret even more how the cards had played out between them.

  Jett’s bass notes threaded in, and Renn followed with the slow, seductive percussion as the band began one of the songs she’d listened to quite a few times in the past. Already, humans in the crowd had begun to make out, finding partners to grope and grind with. Next, the clothes would start shedding, and they’d be privy to one hell of a spectacular orgy. Any fae in the audience who fed off this sort of mojo would be in for a feast tonight.

  She kept close eye on any of her kind—after all, Alberich’s men could be anywhere.

  Danica glanced over to Marisa, who sipped her martini with the chill of Captain Cold. Drinks with big names in the Seelie Court stuck her neck into uncomfortable territory, but the bounty pushed her in this corner. If she could nab Alberich’s treasure and use it to buy her freedom, she would. Danica figured Leo Kincaid had his own plan for the most-likely illegal item as a way to get his business partner out of the picture.

  “I’m in,” Danica said, taking another sip of her rose martini even though her gaze never strayed from the stage. No matter how desperate she was, she wouldn’t let those feelings show while sharks swam in the wate
r around her. “Give me the when and wheres and I’ll make it happen.”

  “Glad to hear you’re entertaining such a lucrative venture,” Marisa responded, her lips curled with a serpent’s grin. The emphasis on ‘you’re’ was crystal clear, the hands-off way upper echelon fae dealt with everything. Marisa had originally handled her contract with Alberich’s company and remained Danica’s contact through all of this. When this recent shit hit the oscillating fan in the wake of the impending hunter war, fae started gathering resources like weaponry. Of course, that spurred Tymarch Alberich’s sudden desire to call and collect on her debt.

  “You know me.” Danica sighed, raising her glass in salute. “Always up for a challenge.” She settled against the bar, ignoring the moans that filtered through the audience, the limbs waving around, and the heavy grunts and thuds as people got rowdier. Despite her survival abilities, she couldn’t pull off a heist on her own. The success of this venture revolved around convincing one man to take a risk on her again.

  Her eyes landed on Trevor, who bit his lip as he thrummed away at the guitar, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Under the neon blue lights, his silver hair glistened like ice, tamed into spikes for the show. He rocked back and forth, cradling the guitar as the melody poured from his fingertips. The boys dominated the stage, Renn thrashing around at the drums, Jett thrusting with the bass, Kieran leaping from one part of the stage to the other, and Trevor grounded the movement and melody with his indomitable presence.

  The crowd writhed and screamed, some in excitement and others in ecstasy.

  When the power cut, plunging the arena to pitch black, the screams turned to terror.