Lover Enraptured: Thieves of Aurion, Book 2

by Jodi Redford

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to all the readers who’ve been patiently waiting for Jerrick and Avi’s story. It’s been a long time coming, baby.

  And as always to my fantabulous editor, Sasha. I couldn’t have done this book justice without you.

  Chapter One

  Every inch of Jerrick’s skin was on fire. Never his favorite sensation to awaken to.

  “Welcome back to the living, Mr. Hunter.”

  Wooziness blanketing his sluggish brain, Jerrick pried his eyes open and recoiled at the intense light shining in his face. Wincing, he struggled to block the assaulting glare. His arms and legs remained uncooperative, cold metal from the chair beneath him breaching his T-shirt and jeans.

  What the bloody hell? He strained against the odd lethargy imprisoning his limbs, and the punishing bite of leather digging into his wrists rewarded his efforts. Disbelief froze him. Why the fuck was he tied to a chair?

  Odd fragments of memory skated the edges of his consciousness. Dark parking lot. Metallic jingle of keys hitting pavement. Flash fire of agony igniting his cells. Everything after that remained hazy.

  “I apologize for the restraints and the use of the electrolizer gun. Unfortunately, they were my only means of gaining your cooperation.” The same disembodied voice from earlier broke through Jerrick’s puzzle piecing, making him squint against the blinding splash of light.

  This man had used a weapon on him? That was the cause of the debilitating pain and his jumbled memory? “You obviously don’t know me worth shit if you think this is going to win my cooperation.” He intended to make that crystal clear in five seconds, once he was free of these bindings.

  He tested the strength of the leather restraints and found his captor hadn’t cut corners. Only way out of here would be through his fae magic. Calling up a quick spell to dissolve the bindings, he wrenched his arm. No visible discharge of his magic where there should have been. The restraints remained uncooperative and rigid.

  Sonofabitch.

  “As you see, the electrolizer has scrambled your conjuring circuits. The effects are completely temporary, I assure you.”

  Jerrick slashed a murderous glare in the direction of the light. “Here’s an assurance for you, motherfucker. No weapon in existence will keep me from snapping every bone in your goddamn body.”

  “No, Mr. Hunter, I don’t believe you’ll do anything of the sort. Especially since I’m all too willing to make this personal.” Abruptly, the blazing light vanished.

  Eyes stinging from the blinding-white pinpricks floating in his vision, Jerrick attempted to track the source of the nearby voice. The shadowy figure moved to the right, and Jerrick’s gaze fell on the individual roped and gagged in the chair adjacent to him. A bare bulb swung on a linked chain, its lazy pirouette illuminating a pale face gaping at Jerrick beneath the sickly trickle of light.

  Lex Tarker—Jerrick’s go-between for his most recent heist. Another disjointed memory clicked into place. He’d met Lex earlier at the Twisted Thorn. They were crossing the parking lot moments before the electrolizer sent Jerrick to his knees on the unforgiving pavement.

  He grunted. “If it has anything to do with him, you’re shit out of luck. I barely know the guy.”

  “No, but I believe you’re well acquainted with Avily Donahoe.”

  The calmly sinister statement managed to tear Jerrick’s attention from Lex. He whipped his head around, searching for his captor, but the son of a bitch stood beyond the periphery of his vision.

  “She’s a lovely little thing.” The voice echoed ominously, hinting at the vast dimensions of the room. “Shame if an accident befell her.”

  Blood iced in Jerrick’s veins. Another fractured memory slipped through the cracks, this time linked to the precise moment before he’d stalked from the restaurant.

  Avi. She’d been there. A tempting beacon shining brighter and more off limits than ever. He’d watched her laughing and flirting with her date, the overwhelming desire to stake his impossible claim on her a pounding refrain inside his brain.

  Wait, had this son of a bitch been at the restaurant tonight too? Had he hurt Avi? Was she tucked away in another room, scared and defenseless?

  Cold rage swept through Jerrick. If anything happened to her, no force on the planet would keep him from tearing his adversary limb from limb.

  “Now I’ve got your attention, here’s how this will play out. My associates and I require your assistance with a small matter. Refuse, and the outcome won’t bode well for Ms. Donahoe.”

  Every muscle in Jerrick’s body tensed with the desire to rip the bastard apart. “What do you want?”

  Hollow footsteps rang directly behind Jerrick. “There’s a man—a scientist—whose work is of extreme interest to us.” Different voice. Male again, but with a lilting accent that marked him of Frittonian descent. Like the other bastard, impossible to tell if he was fae or human.

  “Specifically a formula he was in the stages of developing before he met an untimely death,” the other man elaborated. “We need you to steal his formula for us.”

  Untimely death, my ass. More than likely this asshole and his colleague had something to do with it. “You want me to break into his lab,” he said flatly.

  “Afraid it won’t be that easy.”

  When is it ever? Jerrick leaned his head back, but it continued to spin with disturbing images of Avi huddled in some dark, dank place, frightened and alone. Terrifying as that possibility was, there were others he couldn’t even bring himself to consider.

  “According to our inside men at Kiantu Laboratories, Casper Winston’s formula never made it to the lab. Which means he worked on it somewhere else. Some place we need you to find.”

  “What is this formula?”

  “That information is unimportant to your job.”

  Jerrick’s patience resembled a brittle twig. One misstep and it’d snap. He hauled in a deep breath, struggling to maintain a modicum of cool. For Avi’s sake, he had to keep his shit together. “How am I supposed to steal something if I don’t know what the fuck I’m looking for?”

  “Locate his research files. We’ll take care of the rest.” A whisper of noise sounded to the left. “Do we have your cooperation, Mr. Hunter?”

  “Don’t have much choice, do I?” Jerrick stretched his fingers. The strain didn’t ease.

  “Glad we understand each other.”

  “Understand this. When my part in your dirty little game is done, I’m going to beat your—” Click. Jerrick flinched. The electrolizer’s voltage ripped through him. White-hot needles of electricity stole his strength. Last thing he heard before darkness reclaimed him was his own anguished roar.

  Chapter Two

  This night was turning into a freakin’ disaster.

  Grimacing, Avily glanced away from her date who was busy making time with the boobalicious twins parked in one of the rear booths. Damn bastard wasn’t even covert about it. Wearing that neon-orange nightmare of a shirt, it wasn’t like he blended with the woodwork in the first place.

  If there was one bright spot in the entire fiasco, at least Jerrick wasn’t around to witness her current humiliation. Gods knew that would have been the turd topping this craptastic evening.

  Her traitorous gaze trekked to the bar. Or more to the point, the seat the gorgeous bane of her existence had occupied earlier. Recalling the sizzle and snap that sparked in their brief visual exchange, she shivered. Even that involuntary reaction made her teeth grind. She damn well refused to let Jerrick Hunter affect her. No more. Bastard wouldn’t occupy precious space in her thoughts. And especially not in her fantasies. Went double
for the ones involving feather ticklers and blindfolds.

  Toasting that resolution, she slammed the remaining dregs of her wine. The mellow glow settling low in her belly did nothing to banish the ghostly pull of Jerrick. Even knowing precisely how little she affected him hadn’t stopped her from melting like an ice cube under his intense stare.

  Gods, I’m pathetic. And a danger to her own sanity if she didn’t kill this obsession with Jerrick. Groaning, she snatched her coin purse and fished out enough merca to cover her portion of the bill. She’d let Roger cover the tip. Least he owed her after subjecting her to that shirt all night. Working her way to the exit, she escaped the growing crowd inside the restaurant and joined an infinitely bigger one outside.

  All of Tul’dea had been overtaken with the spectacle of Amora Moon, the annual festival of fairy amour. The streets were a madhouse. She jostled between the massive hordes of revelers, and someone stepped on the toe of her boot, grinding hard.

  She jerked her foot, wincing. “Yeah, not like I needed my big toe or anything.”

  The creep with the heavy tread muttered a half-assed apology and dashed off—swinging her coin purse in his hand.

  Reality crashed home two seconds too late. The crowd surged inward, forming an impenetrable wall, and she stared helplessly at the tattoo of an anchor riding the back of the pickpocket’s neck as he plowed a path toward the distant curb.

  “Stop him! He has my—” An elbow jabbed her hard between the eyes. She staggered, white dots spinning in her vision. This is so not my night.

  “You okay?”

  Knuckling her forehead, she lifted her gaze in the direction of the concerned male voice. A face swam into focus, followed by a blurry corona of indistinguishable dark hair that slowly morphed into jet-black waves. Piercing hazel eyes were next on the list. She returned the stranger’s intent stare blankly until she remembered he’d asked a question.

  “That lousy creep stole my bag.” Aw hell. She was never going to live this down if it got back to the wrong ears. Galvanized by the realization, she bolted forward.

  “You can’t go after him by yourself.” The stranger snagged her arm.

  She jerked an impatient glance over her shoulder. “Wanna bet?”

  Ignoring the man’s exasperated sigh, she wiggled through the tight gap that emerged between a pair of costumed partiers decked out with matching lighted wings. Across the street, a hulking figure wove manically through the crowd.

  “Gotcha, you lowdown bastard.” She jumped from the curb and darted between the idling vehicles congesting the street.

  Like a shadow intent on dogging her every step, her stranger loped close behind. “Has anyone told you you’re relentless?”

  “A time or two.”

  “I hope whatever’s in that bag is worth it.”

  “It’s not about the bag, it’s about redeeming my—” She snapped her mouth shut before managing to shove her foot inside.

  “Redeeming your what?”

  She thought fast. Damn hard to do while trying to sprint at the same time. “My coupon for a free six-pack of Larry the Fairy’s Hardcore Nectar. I left it in the bottom of my coin purse.” At least it wasn’t a total lie.

  “We’re running down a thief for a coupon?” Despite his labored breaths, there was no mistaking the incredulous emphasis on the last word.

  “What can I say? I like my booze.” They reached the intersection at the same time and stopped for a quick gasp of air.

  Her stranger leaned against the lamppost, obviously trying to cover the fact he was two seconds away from passing out. “Where’d he go?”

  She scanned the sidewalk. “Up there. By the liquor store.”

  “Maybe he’s planning on redeeming your coupon.”

  “Har-har.” Readjusting her eyeglasses, she galloped in the direction of the neon-lit shop. Staying on the outer fringe of the crowd made pursuit easier. Now if only she could catch up to that tattoo before it disappeared from view.

  A dark blur streaked by—her stranger, barreling down on the fleeing thief. A grunt snuck past her lips. “Guess he got his second wind.”

  He leapt through the air, tackling the pickpocket…and a few unsuspecting pedestrians. Bodies went flying like pins struck dead center by a human bowling ball.

  “Holy crap.” Regaining her senses, Avily pushed her way through the befuddled crowd of gawkers. By the time she reached ground zero, the thief had regained footing and split. Defeat settled heavy in her chest. Until her stranger struggled to his feet and held up her coin purse.

  A lopsided smile crooked one corner of his mouth. “Looks like someone owes me a drink.”

  Thirty minutes later, Avily twisted the caps from two bottles of Larry the Fairy and tossed them into the small trash receptacle wedged between the folding chairs she’d dragged from her shop. One of the many benefits to The Fairest Rose being located on the main drag—her store provided prime viewing to the gaudiness of Amora Moon.

  She passed the spare bottle to her drinking companion. “You do realize we’ve been sitting here for half an hour, and I still don’t know your name.”

  “Hmm, makes two of us.”

  “You don’t know your name either? Maybe I should cut you off.”

  A rumbling laugh tumbled from his chest. “Thane Pearce, superhero pickpocket tackler at your service.”

  “Oh good, you’re not nearly as inebriated as I’d feared.” She clinked bottles with him. “Pleasure to meet you, Thane. I’m Avily Donahoe. Have I thanked you recently for rescuing my coin purse?”

  “Well, it’s been at least five minutes.” The huge smile spreading across his face could have lit the entire downtown.

  Damn, he was attractive. And his sinful-as-chocolate accent was to die for. If it panned out he had a legal profession and no blindingly orange shirts hanging in his closet, he’d be the most normal, dateable man in existence.

  So why didn’t she feel the tiniest spark? She’d been asking herself that very question for the last half hour and kept conjuring the same depressing conclusion.

  Because he’s not Jer— She stopped before mentally finishing the statement. No, I will not utter his name or think about him again. “First time seeing Amora Moon in Technicolor detail?”

  Thane nodded before wedging the bottle between his knees. “Recently relocated from Frittona. Far cry from anything back home.”

  She chuckled. “You picked a heck of a time to initiate yourself into the craziness of this city.”

  His gaze moved to her and took it’s time exploring her face. Flirtation sparkled in his eyes. “Couldn’t agree with you more. Apparently I need to thank the sisters of fate for blessing me with perfect timing tonight.”

  Praying their shadowy alcove in The Fairest Rose’s doorway helped mask the blush heating her cheeks, she flicked a piece of imaginary fuzz from the knee of her cream-colored pants.

  “Imagine all this traffic is good for business,” Thane offered casually.

  She returned her attention to him, grateful for the slight change of subject. “It helps. God knows, once Amora Moon’s done with, I’ll be begging to make enough merca to keep me out of debtor’s prison.”

  “So things are as difficult here as they are in Frittona.”

  She empathized with the weariness in his voice. She could relate to the daily frustration of struggling to make a living in a fae-controlled world. “What trade are you in?”

  “I’m an antiquities dealer. My specialty is tribal relics.”

  “I should introduce you to Mordak Lucio. He has a shop not far from here that’s jammed to the rafters with tribal pieces. Back when I used to be a th—” The incriminating word vacuumed into her mouth before ratting out her thieving past. Her heart boomed at the close call, nearly drowning out the rowdy partiers milling on the street.

  Thane stared at her patiently, obviously waiting for her to finish. When she didn’t immediately comply, he tipped his head. “You were saying?”

  “N
ever mind, not important. Besides, I want to hear more about your antiquities business. Are you planning to open up a shop?”

  “Thinking about it. I’ve started scouring the local real estate for a potential spot. Who knows, maybe we’ll end up becoming neighbors.”

  The unmistakable flirtation was there again. She plucked at the pleat in her pants. If only she felt the same earth-shifting, palm-sweating, about-to-jump-out-of-her-skin excitement that he-who-shall-not-be-named elicited.

  Thane cleared his throat. “My apologies. It just occurred to me I’ve been monopolizing your evening.” His trousers made a soft scritching sound when he shoved from the chair.

  “Would you like to have dinner some time?” Where the hell did that come from? She dug her fingernails into her thighs and blinked up at Thane.

  A slow smile stretched his mouth. “Absolutely. How does this coming weekend sound?”

  “Perfect.” Holy hell, someone stop me before I agree to conceive his children.

  “It’s a date then. I’ll stop by later in the week, and we can firm up plans.”

  All she could do was nod dumbly as he turned his back and strolled off into the crowd. No, not the only thing she could do. She had a nice solid wall behind her perfect for banging her thick skull against.

  She wasn’t romantically interested in Thane. It’d be a thousand degrees of wrong to give him false hope. But she couldn’t very well call him back and retract her offer.

  Times like this, she really wished Mara wasn’t off on her honeymoon. Having another female to commiserate with her pathetic plight would go a long way toward easing the tension pounding at her temples.

  Plus, she needed someone to lend a hand finishing the remaining bottles of Larry’s.

  “Oh, who am I kidding?” If ever she needed to tie one on, it was now. Heaving a sigh, she stretched for the nearest bottle.

  Chapter Three

  Jerrick snapped to with a groggy start. Only instead of harsh light, he was met with Lex Tarker’s shocked face.

  “I swore you were dead.” Lex tripped over his own tongue. “You barely had a heartbeat, for gods’ sake.”