The waitress swung over, a pad of paper in hand and a dour expression on her face. If Danica had to take orders at two in the morning, she’d be donning the same lemonade look.
“I’d love to order the Reuben,” Danica jumped in first. Renn ordered his burger, Ky the same with an extra look in Renn’s direction. Jett continued with his heroin chic order of a salad and a second cup of coffee. Liz ordered nachos, a fact Danica remembered from when she’d last hung around this crew. Trevor leaned forward beside her to hand his menu over after ordering waffles, and their arms brushed, the touch electric. Otherworld be damned, she needed to get laid.
“Got a sweet tooth, Southern boy?” She couldn’t help flirting with him, it was compulsory. Especially when those dark eyes of his turned molten and crinkled with a languorous smile, a lazy, feline one that could turn predatory in a heartbeat.
“An insatiable one,” he responded, his deep throaty murmur traveling straight between her legs. She would need to put a paper bag over his head to ignore how her body reacted to him.
Kieran shot Trevor a look, and at once, the banshee retreated from the warmth and the flirtation, his expression turning as cold as nightstained granite. Well, a dose of pure loathing did the trick.
Danica bit back her sigh, holding onto her cavalier attitude with all her might. She’d earned this. She knew that. Still, her veneer didn’t help against the loneliness that crashed in at night, filling her head with voices all while her mouth was duct taped shut. Survival first. That’s what she needed to remember every time she cast her long and lingerings over to Discord’s Desire.
“One stipulation,” Kieran said, holding up a hand. “Sorry, brother, but you’re too close to this.” He met Trevor’s gaze, and the two of them nodded in agreement. “When we find the item, we’re the ones who are keeping it until we hand it over. You can be there with us when judgement day arrives, but you’ve proven we can’t trust you not to bolt once you get what you want.”
Danica let out the breath she’d been holding. “Deal. I don’t blame you guys for not trusting me—I went all Catwoman on you last time around. Look, I’ll even be straightforward with you. I’m in this for survival. Our mutual pest happens to own the loan on my company and he’s cashing in his chips now. So, I either pay a sum I don’t have, or I’m going to be added to his collection of pets.”
Trevor went rigid beside her at the term. He didn’t say a word, but his nails dug into the painted corkboard surface of the table. Her heart thundered at the memories of how Alberich had talked to him in the Lotus Garden and how Trevor went berserk in response. She hadn’t fought this hard for her freedom to get tossed in shackles.
Liz took a sip from her coffee before meeting her eyes. “Let me guess. He’s consolidating due to the war that’s descended?”
A forced grin rolled to Danica’s lips as she shunted the mind-numbing fear to the backseat. “Always knew you were the smartest of the bunch, Obiwan.”
Liz’s gaze softened for a heartbeat, and even though a moment later it grew sharper than ever, that was enough. Danica latched onto any hope she hadn’t shattered their friendship entirely. The waitress wandered over with the massive tray and began doling out the plates.
Trevor sliced his waffle with a level of precision bordering on ridiculous, each singular square carved out before he ate the pieces. The others dove into their food like coyotes to a fresh kill, but not him. Danica ignored the way her heart warmed at the sight and tried to shove away the details about him she had begun memorizing from the moment they met.
Once she took the first bite of the Reuben in front of her, piping hot and oozing, some of the stress deflated from her shoulders.
Life like hers was a transitory mess of moments, and she seized whatever ones she could.
Even if the crew of Discord’s Desire hated her now, sitting around a table with people she liked, and eating a greasy, delicious sandwich at two in the morning after a life-threatening dash from a stadium—well, that was one hell of a moment to savor.
****
Danica stared out the window of her hotel room in Harrah’s, looking at all the neons still lit even at four in the morning. She kicked off her pumps and unbuckled the bracelets around her wrists. The shadows clung to the corners of her room, and no matter how hard she tried to turn off the paranoia, she couldn’t rid herself of the prickle along her nape. Her air-condition cold sheets seared her bare thighs when she settled onto the side of the bed.
She hated this part of the night the most, where she fell into bed alone with the monsters inside her head. Every moral misstep paraded through her mind on a regular basis, and like always, sleep lay a few hours away.
Her phone buzzed in her purse, and Danica almost leapt out of her bed to get it. This time of night only meant one person.
“Bout time you called, little sis,” Danica didn’t bother looking at the screen as she answered.
“Were you about to send out a search party?” Lenora responded, amusement in her tone.
“Calling them off as we speak,” Danica said, settling against the headboard of the bed and nudging the covers to the side. “You all finished with your shift at the Lotus Garden? Give them your two weeks, Nora.”
“And what, follow you off to Vegas?” The click of a door closing sounded from Lenora’s end—her sister was probably finishing work for the day.
“Don’t knock it. You could strut your stuff for way more pay here,” Danica argued. Truth be told, she just wanted her sister nearby where she could watch out for her. Lenora worked under a stage name at Lotus Garden, but if someone dug deep, they might be able to find the roots tangling them together.
“Stop the sweet-talking, sis. I’m not one of your clients,” Lenora shot back. “I’m already sold, but I’m not going to pack my bags and ditch a solid gig on a maybe.” Danica could hear the grin in her voice, the soft eyes crinkled in amusement and the wry lips twisted in a half-smile. Where Danica was long and lanky, her sister had stolen all the curves and honey-spun hair to accent. Not like their differing looks ever stopped them from fighting over clothes.
“Perfect, then pack those bags up,” Danica responded. She’d spent the earlier half of the day checking out the local talent at open mics and soaking up the energy boost, but she’d also secured her sister a job in the process at Kink and Candy due to a mutual connection with the fae owner.
Lenora let out a staged sigh. “Should’ve figured you had something worked out, Connections Queen.”
Danica grinned on reflex, sinking against the stiff pillow that smelled like cleaner. “Is it a crime to want my little sister within walking distance?”
“Winter’s breath, yes,” Lenora shot back. “You’ll smother me in a heartbeat. Level with me, D. What’s the reason you’re pushing? Don’t think I don’t know when my own sister is trying to maneuver me.”
Danica ran a hand through her tangled strands, staring at the stucco ceiling of yet another hotel. She missed her condo in San Fran, but ever since Alberich started sending bounty hunters to collect her impossible debt, she had to leave her known places behind. Plus, the attacks from the hunters turned the pressure cooker on high in their community, which had been filled with so many fractures no amount of plaster could keep it together.
“I’m on the run,” she admitted with a sharp breath. “Alberich’s demanding I repay the loan now, instead of the fifty-year period I’d been given, and he hasn’t been shy about sending love notes.”
Lenora’s silence offered the response Danica expected, the dose of sobriety that sliced beneath both of their outer layers.
“You’re stubborn, you know that?” Lenora broke the impasse.
Danica snorted, kicking at the crumpled sheet by her foot. “Took you this long to figure it out? Look, he’s dangerous, and I think he’d go to any length to get the money, or me, in his possession. Just come to Vegas, Nora.”
“I wouldn’t miss the chance to strut my stuff in Sin City,” Lenora respon
ded, returning to the lightness from before. Danica clutched onto their banter like a lifeline. Her sister chose a different route than business life for this reason. She’d been uncertain about the deal Danica had made with Alberich from the start, but they each picked their own paths. Of course, hers reared up and ruined things for them both.
“See you in a blink, sis,” Danica responded, hanging up the phone. She tossed her cell to the blankets as she turned onto her side, staring out the big glass panes placing Vegas on full display. Marisa messaged her the location earlier, and her wheels had been turning ever since. With this, she walked on splintered glass. As much as she’d love to believe that when they found Alberich’s secret stash the guys of Discord’s Desire would do her right, she had no guarantees.
Danica always existed in a world where the truth was transient and morals were sold to the highest bidder. If she planned on working with the boys, she needed her own bargaining chip in the process—needed to stay one step ahead. Just in case.
The twinkling lights of the city winked at her, all neon deception and gilt-covered rot. Most days, she moved along like a train on the high-speed rail, but ever since her business got upended and she started this life on the run, she’d been forced to face the silences, that quiet she loathed. And when she looked in the mirror, she was no better than this gutted city with its flashing-lights desperation.
Chapter Five
By the time the sun peeked in through the windows of their RV, Trevor was brewing his second pot of coffee.
With each night becoming more restless than the last, at this rate he would soon be averaging a cool half hour of sleep.
Trevor leaned into the cherry red vinyl seat, the mug of coffee blazing enough to take his hand off. Yet, even that did nothing to sear through the ever-present fear thrumming through his veins.
A creak of the floorboards signaled Kieran’s approach, their lead singer wearing nothing more than boxers as he fumbled with a pack of cigarettes.
“If you keep burning the midnight oil like this, I’m going to dub you the Ghost of Guitarist’s Past.” Ky set to yanking down the window behind the seats. Even though they’d parked in a dump of a lot with a bunch of beater vehicles and sketch neighbors, the desperate neons from the Strip tried their damndest to cut through the early morning grey.
“Who can sleep with the way you and Liz go at it?” Trevor muttered, reaching for one of Renn’s crumpled shirts he left strewn all through the floor of the RV. Trevor tossed it to Kieran. “Do us a favor and cover yourself up. The adoring fans aren’t here to see the show.”
Kieran flashed him a grin, his gold eyes sparking with a new relationship thrill, where everything was sunshine on the Mississippi, and problems were a snap to fix. Not like he could blame his bandmate for the infectious excitement. Kieran had fought hard to win Liz over to the commitment side. Trevor couldn’t imagine that sort of closeness with anyone. The thought settled around his throat, the phantom sensation one that lingered through the years.
Ky sniffed the shirt and wrinkled his nose. “Otherworld be damned, did Renn shit on this? You can deal with some skin, brother.” He leaned to the window, cigarette and lighter in hand. Within moments, the embers glowed, and the first stream of smoke filtered out. The comforting scent of cigarette smoke had Trevor jonesing for one himself, the coffee not quite cutting it this morning. Not after he’d made the first step toward confronting his former owner in agreeing to work with Danica.
Ky let out another stream of smoke before fixing his dragon’s gaze on Trevor. “You know I can’t listen to you for shit on this, right?”
Trevor snorted. “Like you ever bothered listening to me anyway?”
Kieran shot him a look. “This whole situation involves the monster who fucked up your younger years and the one woman you’ve expressed actual interest in for the past decade.”
Trevor arched a brow. “Have you been ignoring our entire time on tour together? I’ve expressed interest in plenty of women over the years.”
Ky ashed out the window. “Fucking is different than interested. Don’t think I missed the wounded puppy dog way you brooded after Danica pulled her vanishing act.”
Well damn if their band leader didn’t swing with an aluminum bat. The tangle of things he felt for Danica had only gotten more muddled with her betrayal, which entrenched her in ‘avoid at all costs’ territory. Potential wasn’t something one of Alberich’s former pets got to explore. Especially not while his former owner sought to capture him back. Hell of a half-life he lived.
Ky fixed him with a look. “I’ll take your steeped silence as a confirmation I’m always right.” The incubus’s eyes danced with amusement.
Trevor shook his head, a half-smile rising to his lips. He reached out to snag a cigarette from Kieran’s pack. “You’re an ass. I’d better call Liz here to deflate your ego—someone’s got to do it.” He lit the cigarette and joined Kieran in leaning up to the window. If Renn happened to wake up, he’d crucify them both. Trevor loosed a stream of smoke, not meeting Kieran’s eyes—fucker was too perceptive. “Y’all don’t have to get involved in this. It’s my problem, and there’s no need to drag the rest of you into danger.”
Kieran punched him in the arm.
“What the fuck was that for?” Trevor nearly dropped his cigarette.
“None of that self-pitying martyr shit. You know we’re not going to drop a chance for you to be free from the bastard’s hold at last. I’m just saying those with clearer heads should be calling the shots.”
Trevor arched a brow. “Name a time you’ve had a clearer head in your life. Ever.”
Kieran smirked, and Trevor couldn’t help the relief that swept through him. When Danica proposed taking down Alberich, he knew in his gut he’d be joining her even if he needed to go without the rest of the band. But he should’ve known better. Kieran always had his back. He was one of the few people in his life who proved they were worth trusting, and he’d learned the hard way those were rare.
He sucked down the rest of the cigarette and flicked it out the window before settling into the vinyl booth. His coffee waited in front of him, not enough to combat the sleeplessness as of late.
A knock sounded on the door to their RV.
Trevor tensed. Anything unexpected sent his mind to Alberich even with the ever-present hunter threat. Kieran leaned further out the window to catch who approached.
“What the hell’s she doing here this early?” Ky muttered, dropping into the seat. His cigarette still hung from his mouth.
Trevor didn’t question who he referred to. “I’ll get the door.” He pushed himself off the booth.
“Of course you will,” Kieran responded, an amused note in his voice.
Trevor lifted his middle finger in response as he walked away. His pulse quickening had nothing to do with fear right now, and his conversation with Ky highlighted things he’d wanted to bury. He ran a hand through his stiff strands, a hollowness lingering in his chest like taffy stretched to the point he was going to snap. The second he reached the door, it swung open from a push on the other side.
“Can you guys walk any slower?” Danica asked, striding up the steps. “Please don’t tell me the rest of the band is still asleep.” The woman dressed like she’d been born into the purple skirt she wore, a crisp white button-down, and her glossy chestnut strands were pulled into a tight chignon.
“Well hello to you too,” he drawled, stepping aside. She walked past him, her lime and lemongrass perfume trailing behind her. She paused to glance back and fix him with a mega-watt grin, one of the dozens that never reached her eyes.
“Don’t think I’m ignoring you, charmer,” she said with a wink, her voice dripping with sensuality. “But we’ve got work to do if your band’s going to be playing on Mandalay Bay’s stage tomorrow.”
“Hold the phone, what’s going on?” Liz’s voice came from the other end of the RV. The noise of the front door must’ve startled her awake, and even in a sleep-s
hirt with mussed hair, her eyes flashed like she prepared to go to war.
Danica tilted her head to the side. “You guys wanted to move forward on this whole taking down Evil Incorporated, right? Alberich’s treasure’s not going to steal itself.”
“Sure, but that doesn’t give you the right to book the boys a gig wherever you see fit,” Liz argued, crossing her arms over her chest. Their booking manager’s gaze flashed with challenge.
Trevor sat on the vinyl booth and snagged his coffee. He’d need a whole lot for this conversation.
“Are you worried I’m going to steal your gig, Obiwan?” Danica arched a brow, her sharp eyes aimed like a weapon. Liz attempted to hide it, but Trevor caught the flinch at the old nickname. Once upon a time, they’d connected fast, but their friendship ended up being a firework, sizzling the day Danica chose her personal mission over Ky. “Never fear,” Danica continued. “Even with the threat on my business, these guys wouldn’t provide an ounce of the sustenance I need to keep grooving.”
“And what happened to working as a team?” Kieran asked, a careful gleam in his eyes. “I believe that was a part of the initial agreement—we’d be wanting full transparency.”
“That’s what I’m giving you,” Danica countered, her voice cool and her gaze level. Trevor sat back and observed. The woman didn’t do anything without a reason, but he’d learned from last time their reasons didn’t always align. “You never established you needed your hand held the entire time, but we can make some readjustments if that’s a prereq.” Her throat stuttered with her swallow, ever so slight but the movement gave her away.
Trevor spread his arms out on either side of the vinyl booth, leaning back. “If you need to cling to those tenuous tethers of control, keep them,” he responded, fixing her with a look. “There’s one of you to five of us, and this time, we won’t make the mistake of assuming you’ll do the moral thing. You may be a step ahead in planning, but you can’t pull this off without us.”
Her mouth thinned for a second before she flashed him an empty smile. “Well, with that radiant vote of confidence, I’m raring and ready to go.” His stomach twisted at the sight of her, how she hid behind her mask like she had nothing else to hold onto. Curiosity infiltrated like exhaustion, an undeniable tug controlling him at every turn.
Hypnotizing Beat Page 4
