Binding Curse: Dark Fae Hollow 4 (Dark Fae Hollows)

by T. F. Walsh

  “Does the fae have a name?” I asked. “What does he look like so I can keep an eye out for him?”

  “Never seen him. Goes by Gaige Sergey.”

  I choked on a crumb and grabbed my coffee, gulping it down. “Are you freakin’ shitting me?” After my coughing fit, I found my voice. “Gaige Sergey? The most notorious assassin in the Outlands?” And yes, thank you, universe, for another curve ball.

  Axel wore a puzzled expression, complete with a scrunched frown. “PPD sure exaggerate with their descriptions of criminals. What does my rap sheet say?” He rolled his eyes. “Deadliest master thief in Moscow?”

  “Why are you being an ass?” I spat the words. “PPD had once caught Gaige in the middle of butchering three humans. The dickhead bragged about it being his job. Took out whoever was on his target list. So fuck you. This bastard has no morals.” And if I catch him, I’d drive my blade into his skull.

  “Calm down,” Axel said. “So, Gaige escaped from PPD?” An eyebrow lifted slightly as if he found this amusing.

  “Gaige sliced the necks of two officers before breaking out of the holding cell.” I remembered the funerals, and I sank into my seat. “Where do we find him?”

  Axel finished his coffee before setting the cup down with a thud. “You know you can’t kill him?”

  A protesting response hit the front of my mind. Damn, Axel had a point. We had to return him to the broker, or we got no insight into who our binding partners were. I still wasn’t convinced he would tell us. I hated following clues with no backup or knowledge. What if we wasted our time? Well if that was the case, I was finishing Gaige.

  “The chef confirmed Gaige was visiting the Drunk Bear drinking room sometime today to pick up a package from the bartender there. It’s at the end of the road.”

  I jolted out of my seat, my muscles taut and ready. “So why the hell are we sitting here?”

  Axel got on his feet and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin as he scanned two guys across the street. They were staring our way. Axel took my hand and hauled me into him. My body snapped up against his solid chest.

  He lowered his voice. “Listen, Luna. Unless you calm down, you’ll get us killed. This town is home to nasty pieces of work, gangs and murderers who wouldn’t think twice before taking your life.”

  He slid a hand over my shoulder, and I buzzed on the inside, remembering his touches from last night, the sexiness of his lips, his hands all over my body. With a flick, he repositioned my blonde hair forward to conceal my fae marking. He looked down at me. Would he kiss me?

  When he broke away and hopped down the steps from the veranda and onto the sidewalk, I cringed. What was wrong with me?

  We strolled down the center of the road, flanked by old-style wooden huts that were once homes to villagers. Now it seemed the place had been turned into an establishment for drunks and gangs. Gazes followed us from people on the street. When Axel curled an arm around my lower back, I pushed against him, but he tightened his hold.

  “Put more swing into your walk. You’re stiff like an officer.”

  “Are you kidding me?” The few females I saw weren’t parading around.

  “Wouldn’t hurt if you plastered yourself all over me, too,” Axel continued. “Giggled at everything I say, that kind of thing. Play the part.”

  “The part of what? A service girl?”

  Axel chuckled, and we meandered on the path dotted with holes, cracks snaking down the middle. He probably figured few vehicles traveled here.

  “Have you visited this town often?” I asked, curiosity driving me.

  “Used to, but not anymore.”

  I lowered my gaze as a bald man with a curling mustache strode past. “Was that during your criminal days?” I asked.

  “Sort of.” His words were fast and clipped as if he’d practiced how to push away anyone who prodded into his past.

  “So you did or didn’t visit this town?” I looked up at him.

  “Does it matter?” He cut me a quick glance, the kind that insisted this conversation end now. “People change.”

  “Everyone’s history dictates who they are today.”

  “Enough, Luna. This is why someone like you and me shouldn’t mix.”

  I stiffened and wrenched from his hold. “What is that supposed to mean? Someone like me?”

  His coffee breath reached me as he closed in. “You judge people with the same stick. Anyone with a tainted past is a criminal. Those who live in the Outlands are not trusting. Not everything in life fits into your perfect little mold.”

  My response refused to dislodge from my mind. Who the hell did he think he was, and where was this attack coming from? “That’s not fair or true.”

  He sighed. “Let’s move. This isn’t the place to talk.”

  Biting my tongue, I joined him. I didn’t judge people because of their past. Still, the bigger issue was Axel’s history. What was he so ashamed of? The criminal records at PPD showed him as a petty thief, but he didn’t seem the kind to let those things get to him.

  Once we reached the end of the street, an empty wasteland stretched outward with nothing but flat land. The sun glinted just above the horizon.

  “This way.” Axel angled toward a one-story, wooden house with bars for windows. Instead of going to the front reinforced metal door, he headed down the side of the long building.

  At the rear, the yard stretched out toward a river. Behind the home, I discovered a cellar entrance, and it was open. A sloshed elderly man climbed out, singing to himself, swaying sideways before tripping and face-planting the ground.

  “You sure this is the place?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Let’s go.”

  I feathered my hair over my neck and squared my shoulders. With Axel’s arm around my waist and his thumb threaded through my belt buckle, we descended wooden steps into a darkened room.

  The stink of foot odor was so bad, I held my breath. A bar with stools ran the length of the area to my right while curved booths filled the opposite wall. The arched ceiling gave the place an old church feeling, but the hand-painted folk plates lining the worn walls reminded me of human homes. They seemed to love their decorations. Lights hung from the ceiling but barely lit up the cemented room.

  Axel held me tight and close, his fingers pressing into my side. Had the Drunk Bear been his regular hangout in Nerekhta?

  A toothless man pivoted on his stool to face us and reached out for my butt. I snatched his fingers and bent them backward. He wailed, and Axel grabbed my wrist, forcing me to break my hold. He growled, “Luna, stop.”

  He guided me at ultra-speed to the back corner. We passed a booth with three massive guys, arms and necks inked, but my fleeting glance wasn’t long enough to work out their gang, their crimes. The next booth held two couples, one girl straddling a man twice her age, giggling.

  Yep, of course, Gaige would visit the seediest establishment in town.

  I slid into the half-circle booth. The wall behind us had a torn poster of a topless blonde posing across a sofa. Axel sat inches from me, giving us a perfect view of the room.

  “What now?” I leaned against him, his body burning up.

  “We drink and wait.”

  Tumblers filled the shelves behind the bar but no bottles of alcohol. Strange. “Okay. An apple cider, and do they have fried dumplings?”

  Axel’s brows lifted in the are-you-out-of-your-mind look. “They sell two things here. Vodka and pickles. Only thing to eat when drinking. I’ll get you those.”

  “Really?” Well, their clientele was predictable. The assignment was to get blind drunk. No wonder no one cared that it stunk as if we were inside someone’s shoe.

  Axel slid out and made his way to the bar, my attention dropping to his cute ass. A tattooed guy, grizzly in size, approached Axel, slapping his back. They exchanged a quick hug. Both were big boys, chests puffed out. Talk about an overload of testosterone dominating the place. They chatted, and I noted the men along the counter do
wning vodka.

  When Axel returned, he set four shots in front of me. Where were the pickles?

  “Who’s your friend?”

  “An old acquaintance. Here’s to our mission. Tvoe zdorovie.” He slammed one back, before banging it to the table, and went straight for a second.

  Okay, not sure this was to my health as he toasted, but I picked up a drink. The glass chilled my fingers. I rarely drank because I didn’t like the taste, but when in Rome… The overpowering smell of ethanol hit, and I cringed.

  Axel watched me with an arched brow. Stuff him for judging me, and I tilted back the glass. An inferno burned all the way down my esophagus and stomach. I coughed, convinced I’d breathe fire.

  “That’s my girl.” Axel pushed the next one closer.

  But I didn’t have it in me, so I cradled the beverage. My arm stuck to the surface of the varnished table. “Gross.”

  Axel was fidgeting in his seat, eyes locked on the bar. Was that his elixir? Drinking?

  I placed a hand on his thigh. “Hey, got any more intel to share?” Anything to get his mind on the mission and refocused. I swore he’d jump out of his skin any second from the way he kept licking his lips, staring at the counter.

  He looked at me, and something shifted behind his eyes as if reality hit him. “I asked the bartender to signal when he arrives. The dude owes me a favor.”

  “Then, I guess, we chat and—”

  “Gonna get more drinks.” Axel shuffled away, hands tucked into his pockets, shoulders curled forward. Once again, ink man was by his side. This time, the server set a single shot glass with red liquid in front of Axel, who blocked my view.

  The guy slapped a hand on Axel’s shoulder, but Axel didn’t react, just stood frozen.

  What the fuck was going on? I inched toward the edge of the cushioned booth. The rest of the tattooed men hooted as if egging Axel on… but he’d said this place only sold one drink—Vodka. Crap! Fae blood.

  I was on my feet before I could stop myself, storming forward.

  “Axel.” I grabbed his elbow. As he turned, he lowered the glass. Crimson stained the corner of his mouth, and my heart dropped. Fucking hell.

  Chapter 23

  “Son of a bitch, Axel!” The words fell from my mouth, drawing attention from gang members who sneered in response. My earlier shot of vodka churned in my gut. So, Axel was an addict to fae blood? How could I not have seen this? All the clues were there, but I never connected the dots. The strange way he had stared at my bleeding wounds, his refusal to open up about his past, the gang tattoos.

  He wiped his mouth with a hand, grabbed me by the elbow, and wrenched me across the Drunk Bear bar to the farthest booth.

  I ripped free, an inferno burning me from the inside out. “What the fuck?”

  “Sit!” He crashed onto the cushioned seat, his gaze darkening. He blinked too many times as if to keep his focus, to avoid an inevitable high.

  His demand was gasoline to my veins, and I trembled, my hands clenching. How could he do this?

  “I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.” Axel shifted in his seat as if unable to get comfortable. His attention buzzed all over the place, and his knees bounced.

  I exploded with anger. “How did you want me to discover it? You sure as hell weren’t going to tell me.” I crashed into the curved seat, sitting across the table from him and grabbed the shot of vodka throwing it into my mouth. I cringed as the heat scorched my throat and regretted it at once. Just like I regretted not digging deeper into his past.

  “I gave up fae blood months ago.” He raked his fingers through his hair several times.

  Hell, we were here to lay low and kidnap the most notorious assassin in Moscow. Instead, the whole room listened to us airing our dirty laundry.

  He licked his lips and whispered, “I just had a taste. Won’t affect me as much as sniffing the dried stuff.”

  “Yeah, I can see how it’s not affecting you. You’re practically jumping out of your skin.”

  I huffed and slouched, tucking my hands beneath my thighs before I threw something at Axel. “This is the worst timing ever for you to have a so-called taste.” I lowered my voice. “Were you ever tempted for my blood?”

  His brows knotted. “Screw you.” He shifted to get out of the seat, but I reached over and grabbed his wrist.

  Guilt cut me. “What were you thinking?”

  Axel pulled his hand free and studied me from hooded eyes, his lips thin. Wonderful… now he’d retreat into his shell. He’d been hiding this massive secret, and I’d had sex with him! Yep, the only idiot here was me for allowing my emotions to get tangled in this thorny mess of whatever was going on between us.

  I angled around the curved booth until our thighs touched. Being inches from him stirred something new within, but I couldn’t get past the sight of him drinking fae blood! Was that how he saw me? Just a vessel to getting high?

  “Talk.” I prodded him in the arm.

  Axel turned toward me and spoke softly. “The guy who insisted I drink is a gang leader. I used to buy from him. If I didn’t accept, we’d get our asses beat.”

  “He’s trying to lure you—”

  “Think I don’t know that?” His eyes glazed over, and his hands kept pushing the empty shot glasses across the table in an infinity pattern. “I’d do it again if it helped us.”

  “Crap!” Guilt sat on my shoulders. Axel took one for the team, reopened an addiction he’d walked away from. “How are you feeling?”

  He shrugged. “Like I can sprint around the building twenty times.”

  I rubbed a hand down my face. Okay, how to deal with this? I had nowhere else to run, and we were the key to the vulsines, meaning we were on their target radar. Everyone’s lives were at stake, and if that meant dealing with new problems, well, I had no choice but to suck it up.

  From my experience with other addicts at the precinct, they stayed high for hours, but this was a single shot. Maybe an hour. The problem was… when he came down, would he crave more?

  Axel leaned closer, his shoulder touching mine, and I resisted the urge to pull away. Hell, what was wrong with me? Everyone made mistakes in life. Most gangs dealt with drug solicitation, pushers, so how could a young Axel with no family resist? Not making an excuse, only trying to understand where it stemmed from. Except, he’d been clean for months. So, I’d be there for him when the effect wore off. Damn! Why couldn’t we catch a break for once?

  “We’ll get through this,” I said as the bartender approached and set two vodka shots in front of us. He glanced over at Axel, winked, and then returned to his post.

  Axel stiffened in his seat and reached for his drink. Before placing it against his lip, he whispered, “Our guy is here.” He downed the vodka.

  A newcomer in black jeans and a long-sleeved top entered the room. Six-foot, strong, but not wide like Axel. He headed to the bar with such smoothness I swore he floated on air. Was that Gaige? When he sat on a stool, I noted the way he took a quick glimpse of everyone behind him in the room. Short, cropped blonde hair and a high-collared top covered his fae mark. I’d seen his mug shot. That was our hit man. The question became how did we tackle the situation?

  Axel was in my ear. “Got a plan. As soon as Gaige leaves, we follow. Then you zap him with your charge, and I’ll bag him.”

  “Then what?” Uneasiness flooded me. So many variables. What if he didn’t leave alone? What if he had friends keeping guard outside? He could escape capture, yet Axel made it sound too easy.

  He continued, “We drag him onto a train with us back to Moscow and hand him over to the broker.”

  Considering everything we’d encountered had gone to hell, my confidence in Axel’s proposal went out the window.

  “What’s Plan B?”

  “We won’t need—”

  The shattering of glass ricocheted around us, and I jerked my attention upward. Two tattooed guys towered over Gaige, one fisting his shirt, the other holding a broken
bottle to his eyes. “Pay up.”

  Axel was already on his feet and darted toward them.

  Gaige backhanded the pitcher away from him. With the speed of a striking snake, he gripped the gang member’s wrist and shoved the weapon into the attacker’s face. He cried, stumbling backward, clutching his eye.

  The assassin punched the second man and ducked into a forward roll. He leaped up and darted for the stairs to escape. But Axel charged and jumped onto him, both men crashing to the ground. When two others joined the fight, they were knitted in a brawl of legs and arms and grunts, the dull thud of punches.

  I scrambled to my feet, collecting the blades from my belt. So much for Axel’s plan.

  Someone lifted a stool and slammed it into the bartender’s head. Most in the room joined the battle. I ducked a swing from a skinny bastard and jumped over an injured man on the ground, groaning and bleeding.

  Axel staggered away from the warring group, blood dripping from a cut below his eye. His shirt was ripped, and lips were busted open again. He roared and swooped back in, tossing someone aside.

  A guy grabbed my arm and hauled me toward him, one hand snapped to my ass, the other on my breast. I kneed him in the balls and head-butted him. My mind spun, but worth the pain. “Asshole.”

  Gaige had Axel in a choke hold, a blade to his neck. The cut from the assassin’s temple bled down his ear. “Fuck off, or he dies.”

  The gang leader, the size of a bear, shouldered past two of his men. “Мне по́хую! Kill him. You owe me money, and that’s what I give a crap about.”

  “Piss off. Told ya, the guy you wanted dead left the country. No refunds.”