by Kim Faulks
“What the hell?” Titus murmured as he slowed the car, looking for a place to park.
Two marked police cars blocked the street. People milled outside. I scanned familiar faces and saw Betty.
But it was the scuffle that snagged my focus, and I stared as three officers wrestled a man to the ground. The crowd tightened around them. I couldn’t see, catching fragments, as Titus pulled the car hard against the curb.
I fumbled for the door handle, shouldering my way out.
“This is a mistake!” came the roar behind the wall of bodies.
I surged forward, drawn by the familiar voice, as the officers yanked Redemption to his feet and marched him toward the open patrol car door.
Betty glanced at me, and then rushed forward, wringing her hands.
I couldn’t look away, turning back to the patrol car as the door closed with a thud. “What the hell is going on?”
“Lorn, oh my goodness. It’s crazy…utterly crazy. Redemption’s been arrested.”
The heavy thud of boots closed in behind me as I asked the only question that was important. “Arrested for what?”
“Distribution of drugs. It’s crazy, I know. But they found…they found that drug sigil all over his house and in his car.”
I flinched with the words and turned toward the flashing lights.
“Let me find out more,” Titus growled, and moved away.
Rival moved close, brushing his arm against mine. The movement was barely noticeable, but to me it spoke volumes. He was right here, whatever happened.
A hard thud from inside the patrol car drew my gaze. Redemption turned his head, and our gazes connected. Panic seized him. His eyes widened, mouth moving as he screamed.
I took a step, and then another, unable to understand the muffled sound. Whatever he was now, he was something to me…once a lover, always a friend. I couldn’t hold the injustice of this place against him. I couldn’t hate him, not now…not ever.
“Ma’am.”
A voice called as I moved closer.
“Ma’am, please step back.”
Fingers dug into my arm, gouging as I was wrenched away.
“Get your hands off her,” Rival growled, and closed in.
I glanced at the young constable as he looked to Rival, and paled.
“Now.” Rival warned. His top lip curled with the unspoken threat.
Fingers slipped, leaving me to step closer as Redemption slammed his head into the window. He lifted his head, eyes alight with rage and need. Only this time I heard him…loud and fucking clear. “Get out of the city, Lorn! Get out tonight!”
“Oh my God! Redemption!”
I turned my head at that sound and watched Veronica Falls hold a hand over her mouth and stumble forward. She whipped her head right, searching the group of officers. “Who’s in charge here? Who the hell is responsible for this?”
Redemption’s scream was muffled under the roar of the engine. I jerked my gaze back, catching Redemption's rage as the patrol car pulled away from the curb and out onto the street.
But his hate wasn’t aimed at me…it was aimed at Veronica.
“I demand to speak to the officer in charge!” She was a blur of black and white as she marched on stilettos. “You, you there!”
She clicked her fingers toward Titus. “I want to know what’s going on. I want an update and I want one now!”
He gave her an icy stare and then retreated to his buddies before turning away, answering as he passed. “I’m not the one you want. The officer in charge is over there.”
He left her sputtering and headed for me. His cold, careful gaze gave nothing away. He looked to Rival, gave a jerk of his head toward the car, and then settled his gaze on me.
Thunder cracked across the sky above as Titus reached for my arm. “We need to get out of here. Trust me, okay. Let’s go, we’ll talk on the way.”
None of this made any sense. I wanted to argue. I wanted to stay. Whatever Redemption was, he deserved to be heard.
But I trusted Titus, and I followed where he led, making my way back to the silver sedan. Red and blue lights flared once more before they ended. The other patrol car pulled away and headed in the same direction as the first one.
Titus unlocked the car and waited as I walked around to the other side and climbed in. No words were spoken, not until The Circle glinted lonely and cold in the rearview mirror.
“Jesus Christ, what a fucking mess,” Titus shook his head. “Your friend back there is in a lot of trouble.”
“They said it was Sigil. Are they right?”
The answer was in his eyes. “Oh yeah, his house was full of it. They’ve got him with possession, and intent to distribute…and that’s on our side.”
A shudder raced through me. On our side. They’re blaming the attacks on him. Titus gave a slow nod. “How well do you know this guy?
“Redemption? We had a thing…it’s over now, been over for a long time. But still.”
Rival answered for me. “Loyalty.”
I was loyal, if I was nothing else. But that wasn’t all. “I don’t think it’s him. I think they’re wrong.”
“The evidence is overwhelming, too overwhelming.”
He was right, and I’d already lied. “The drug outside The Circle, the one I picked up, it came out from underneath the grill on his car.”
There was a flash of anger, one I felt to my core.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I didn’t want to tell you. But it flew out when the tire deflated.”
Titus shook his head. “Dare I fucking ask?”
“I stabbed it. I was fucking pissed after the goddamn meeting and I stabbed it. I could’ve done worse…just remember that. So, when it deflated, the drug flew out, and I picked it up without thinking.”
“Man,” Rival muttered. “That guy is going down.”
Titus glanced right and then left and pulled out into the lane of traffic.
“I don’t believe it’s him. I mean, it’s not just our history that makes me say that. He was there at the club last night and I was fucking positive my grandmother was there, as well. I could’ve sworn I saw her. Could’ve sworn I heard them fighting.”
“You mean Alma Goodchild?” Rival shot forward, reaching through the seats to grab my arm. “She’s here?”
“I think she is. I think there’s a lot more happening here than a car full of damn drugs, and the dark Lord of Hell wanting…wanting whatever the hell he wants.”
“I don’t like this,” Titus shook his head and turned into my street. “I don’t like this at all.”
“There’s one common factor…the only one we haven’t thought about. The club…Wicked.”
Titus slowed the car as Chang’s came into view. “The tickets.”
“Something’s happening tomorrow night, and all this,” I swept my hand through the air. “All the attacks, the drugs, everything is related somehow.”
“He said to leave…that Redemption guy. He screamed for you to leave,” Rival broke in as Titus pulled into a parking spot and killed the engine. “It’s something we need to think about.”
Silence settled as I reached for the door handle.
I wasn’t running.
Not from a damn hunt.
Not from my grandmother.
Not from the second damn coming of Lucifer himself.
Chapter Fourteen
“I need a damn shower,” Titus growled as he climbed the stairs, and then threw over his shoulder. “Your water better be hot, woman.”
I gripped the bannister and heaved myself up one stair at a time.
“I need food,” Rival countered. “I dunno about you, but I feel like hell. I could sleep for a damn week.”
“Hearing you there, brother,” Titus answered.
I was quiet as they bantered. My thoughts were still trapped in the back of that patrol car with Redemption. They painted him as the one responsible for these drugs.
Some part of me wanted to give in
to that notion. To nod and cluck my tongue like all the others who stood around and watched him be tackled to the ground. But there was a bigger part of me who was angry…who ranted and raged.
I once knew Redemption…and I still know him. He’s not changed. He was still the self-centered, weak-ass, piece of shit. But he wasn’t a drug dealer. He wasn’t a monster behind the mask.
We loved each other once. We were consumed with each other once. We had it all, until one day he woke up and realized I wasn’t what he wanted anymore. That money, fast cars, and designer suits were more important.
It stung…hell, it still stings. But I wouldn’t bail on him because I was hurting. I wouldn’t throw someone under the damn bus because revenge was easier.
“I didn’t get my omelet,” Rival grumbled and hit the top of the stairs.
Love was hard—I looked at Titus’s blood-splattered shirt as he waited at the top of the stairs—love was a blood-splattered shirt and a haunted gaze.
Love was everything you didn’t expect.
Titus reached out a hand, and mine rose in response. Fingers entwined, palms clasped. Power raced with the connection. Whatever this darkness was inside me, it recognized him, branding him as mine.
Rival stood one step lower and reached out. I met his hand with mine, holding onto both of them as that energy swirled and sparked.
My power knew them…my power loved them.
“I have to go to the station. I have to see Redemption,” I whispered and lifted my head. “I can’t leave him there, not alone.”
I waited for the rage, for the flare of denial and the heated words. But there was nothing but a nod of the head.
“We know,” Titus answered for both of them, and Rival gave a nod.
I took a breath. Something had happened between them, a sense of camaraderie had settled…one answer for the other. “You know?”
Rival’s lips curled in that sleepy, seductive smile. “Yeah, we know, and we’re all good with it. As long as we’re involved. Titus can get us inside. You can see this Redemption guy. Get what you need and then we’re dust.”
It was that simple…it was that simple? Had I missed an entire conversation in the car? Titus dropped my hand and stepped toward the door. I speared my fingers into my pocket and reached for my keys.
“You can see this guy, ask him all the questions you need. After sleep, after food. After allowing us to take care of you. You come first, not this guy…not even us.”
Rival eased the key from my fingers and turned toward the door as he chimed in. “And before you get all huffy, we’re doing this because we need you stable. We can’t risk you high strung on lack of sleep or food. We need you grounded…feel me?”
It was a ploy. A damned sneaky ploy. They were using this against me, turning me into someone they can...they can what? Love…take care of?
The lock clicked open and I followed Rival inside. One headed to the kitchen, the other to the bedroom.
“I’m gonna need to get some things to leave here, clothes, toiletries, the essentials. Is it okay if I have a drawer in your dresser?” Titus called.
“Sure,” I answered, standing inside this foreign apartment.
It was mine…but not mine. It was different, new…made new by their energy.
“I’ll need one as well,” Rival called out as he opened and closed cupboards. “And we need more food. A lot more.”
The clang of a fry pan followed, and it seemed like only moments later the most delicious smell caught a breeze.
“Right,” Titus muttered and stepped from the bedroom, heading toward me. “Everything’s ready.”
And still I stood there like a damn statute, watching the energy in my apartment change before my eyes. “Ready? Ready for what?”
“For your shower.”
“And your food,” Rival added.
And as I stood there staring at these two men trying their hardest, I realized this wasn’t about me.
Sparks flared and dimmed in Titus’ blue eyes. He waited, shifting from one foot to the other, like a child…waiting…hoping.
This was for him—movement came from the kitchen as Rival stepped close—and him.
He wiped his hand and flung a dish towel over one shoulder. He was a beast…a merciless shadows beast. I’d seen him savage a wolf like it was nothing barely an hour before.
We all killed. We all hurt.
We were a family of monsters.
But we were a family.
“A shower sounds perfect,” I murmured, watching Titus’s chest deflate from a pent-up breath. “And omelet is one of my favorite dishes, ever. I’ve never been able to get the flip just right.”
“It’s all about the timing,” he answered, moving up behind me.
His hands wound around my waist, and I dropped my head to the side. Lips met the juncture of my neck, so soft, so tender. Hot breath drifted along my skin. “All about the timing.”
“So, we’re agreed; shower, food, then sleep, everything else comes after,” Titus muttered, his gaze drifting from Rival’s lips at my neck to my gaze. “Or during.”
Rival raised his head and me gave a gentle push toward Titus as he reached for my hand. It was so easy, so simple…we melted into each other with subtle cues and easy confidence.
There was no conflict, no jealously, only hands joining…and the smell of food wafting from my lonely kitchen.
I followed Titus into the bedroom, catching sight of a pair of pajamas on the bed. I expected the lacy, barely-there negligee that waited in my drawer, but that wasn’t what he wanted…and it wasn’t what he found. An old, over-sized black cotton t-shirt waited. It was big and soft, skimming mid-thigh, and, as I searched the lacy black panties, I knew there was nothing else.
He wanted me comfortable, but he wasn’t above a man’s need for bare skin. He led me into the bathroom and then turned, and, for a second, I caught my reflection in the mirror.
No wonder he fussed. Haunted eyes stared back at me. Shadows and pale skin filled my gaze, and blood…the drying splatter covered my cheek, and over my shirt. I flinched with the sight and looked down. How had I not noticed that? How had I not known I wore another’s blood?
His fingers were slow and tender, crooking a finger under my chin to draw my focus toward him. No words were needed as he dropped his hands to my shirt.
Buttons released under skillful fingers, still, his gaze never moved from my eyes. This wasn’t about sex…not yet. This was about nurture, about comfort…about being alive, being safe—about us.
This was the beginning of our relationship, where we gave and took, where we found balance. He’d never wavered, not when he’d seen the worst I could become, and this was the trade-off, this was what he needed.
I opened my arms, letting him tug the shirt from my body. He met my gaze and reached for the button on my jeans. Utensils clattered in the kitchen, and, in their own way, they were both finding boundaries and making it work.
The button on my jeans released, zipper opening as Titus slowly knelt.
I reached for his shoulders, finding balance as he lifted one foot and eased my boot free, followed with the other. Socks came next, leaving bare feet against the cool tiled floor. Denim slipped, falling to a heap at my feet. I stepped free as he hooked his fingers into the edges of my panties and tugged.
The thin material slipped, falling away before he rose. Warmth brushed my chest as he leaned in close, reaching around to unhook the clasp of my bra.
His clothes were next, although not as slow, not as seductive. He yanked the open collar and jerked, buttons popped under the strain.
I’d dreamed of him, desired him…thought about him every time he walked into every crime scene and for a long time after.
And, as he dropped the shirt to the floor and reached for his belt, I realized that no matter how good the fantasies had been…this was so much better.
He was strong, powerful muscles rippled as he moved. The clatter of metal met tile as his bl
ack trousers fell. Boxers were next, leaving him naked in front of me.
He was utterly perfect; his thick, soft length lay against strong thighs. He moved slowly, reaching into the shower stall to twist the taps.
The hiss of the shower filling the space, he skimmed his hand through the spray, adjusting the temperature until he was satisfied, and then leaned backwards and waited.
I stepped in, moving under the water. Warmth swept over me. I closed my eyes, listened to the creak of the door, and then shuddered.
An ache swept through my chest. It came from nowhere, tightening like a fist around my heart, until a sob tore free. And under the warm spray everything crashed down on me.
Silver eyes glinted.
Blood filled my nose.
Power…power and death moved in.
And that voice. That voice inside my head whispering, urging.
“It’s okay,” Titus whispered and wrapped his arms around me. “Let it out, let it go. You’re safe here, safe with us.”
Tears fell, blurring him. I leaned my head under the spray and washed the stuck strands of my hair from my face. He reached for the soap, lathering his hands before he rubbed my arm.
He worked methodical, up one side only to come down along the other, and, under the feel of his hands and the constant motion, I felt myself slowly relax.
His fingers skimmed my breast, and then fell to my stomach before he leaned in. His kiss was urgent, pressing my spine into the cold tiles. Muscles tightened, pulling me harder against him.
His body came alive, hardening as I moved against him. The soap was forgotten…as was that warehouse. Cutlery clattered out in the kitchen as Titus’ kiss deepened.
My nipples hardened, heat raced. Something deeper than the warmth of the spray. Still, his hands never strayed, fingers digging into the soft flesh of my hips before he pulled away. “Sounds like breakfast is ready,” he murmured and then dropped his gaze to my hardened nipples. “And you’re nice and clean.”
I would’ve stayed there until the hot water ran dry, but he relaxed his hold and stepped away.
Hunger darkened those icy blue eyes. His chest quivered under the spray, drawing my gaze. His cock stood straight and thick. I reached out, splaying my hand along the smooth rise over his heart as he murmured, “He’s waiting for you. I’ll be there in a second. It’s better we wait.”
