by Ann Gimpel
“Here’s this.” Caelin drew an official looking document from a pocket in his cloak. It held a likeness of Barrett and a listing of his tested bloodlines. “But we shan’t trust to chance. Stand very still. No matter how much this hurts, you cannot move. I don’t want to kill you inadvertently.”
Barrett clenched his jaw. He squared his shoulders and tossed his hair behind them, meeting Caelin’s disconcerting gaze head on. Hands descended on his shoulders. Pain bright as fire followed. Barrett stood his ground. It felt like he was burning from the inside out. He wanted to look but kept his eyes trained on Caelin. They’d walked through this ritual without actually doing it, so he knew what to expect. He tasted blood, hot and coppery, from biting through his lower lip.
After what felt like an eternity, Caelin lifted his hands. Barrett staggered, wishing he’d been able to use magic or herbs to blunt the pain, but Caelin had nixed both.
“No,” he’d said. “You must be sentient, or it won’t work.”
“Is it done?” Barrett shook himself, amazed he still had all his parts.
Caelin nodded. “You’re done dancing in the flames—at least until you show up at the Weres’ place. Call and tell them you were unavoidably delayed. Then get moving. I’ll see things are buttoned up here.”
“People will be disappointed when they realize I’m closed for a few days. Are you sure you won’t—?”
“I’m not cut out to be a proprietor. I’d probably kill one of those squabbling Weres or puerile Witches.”
“I haven’t, and I’m Daoine Sidhe, same as you.”
“Yes, but you’re young. I fear my tolerance for ignorance and fools no longer exists, and I have no interest in resurrecting it.”
Barrett keyed the number for Were Calls into his cell. Simon answered on the first ring, not sounding any friendlier than he had the first time.
“Just wanted to let you know I’ll be there in about ten minutes,” Barrett said crisply. “Sorry about the delay. Business. Certainly you understand.”
Something between a snort and a grunt sounded in his ear. The line went dead.
At least he didn’t tell me not to come.
Barrett scooped up a bag he’d packed several hours before and walked out of his shop. It wasn’t daylight yet, but dawn wasn’t far off. He smelled it in the air. It was there every morning. The promise of a new day. Except the promise never materialized. The Earth hadn’t forgiven them for the destruction they’d wrought during the war. With most humans out of the way, the rest of them had established an uneasy détente, but it felt fragile.
In a deep, private place, he hoped Caelin’s story about Danu was true. If the Daoine Sidhe had ever needed a powerful queen, it was now. More warrior than politician, Caelin lacked subtlety. He bludgeoned people into submission, which was likely why the other magic wielders didn’t trust him. They needed a more stable peace with one another, and with the Earth. Perhaps a new queen—green and untried as she was—would develop the diplomacy Caelin lacked.
Barrett sent a silent prayer winging Danu’s way. Though he listened intently, the goddess didn’t gift him with a hint of an answer.
Chapter Four
Barrett had doubts about his ability to earn Keira’s trust. Lots of them. She’d run like a scared rabbit the last day he’d seen her in the shop. Beyond that, there were many places his assignment could take a wrong turn. What if she didn’t believe him? Worse, what if she told the Weres the truth about him? He had no idea how she felt about her masters. Many bondservants were intensely loyal.
He and Caelin both agreed the sooner they could get her out of the Weres’ clutches the better, but it had to be done tactfully. The last thing they needed was for the war to flare again. Mentoring her to accept and control her magic would come once she was free. And it would have to be a crash course, if ever there was one.
Earlier, he’d planned to walk the few miles to his destination, but that was before the night got away from him. He drew magic, visualized Were Calls, and was pleased when he came out only a few feet from their polished metal door. He raised a hand to knock, but it swung open. A powerfully built Were—probably wolf, but he wasn’t certain—held out a hand. Barrett extended his to shake it, but the Were shook his head.
“Hand over your papers.” He sounded annoyed. “I waited up to let you in.”
“Sorry about that.” Barrett tried his best disarming smile, certain it wouldn’t fool the Were, but not knowing what else to do. He dug into a jacket pocket, pulled out the requested document, and slapped it into the Were’s outstretched hand. He considered a small believe me spell, but decided against it. Surely the Were would be attuned to magic, and he might sense Sidhe in the spell.
“You must be Simon,” Barrett said affably.
The Were grunted and ran a thick finger down closely aligned print on the official looking piece of paper. Barrett held himself back from asking if Simon had just learned to read.
“Mmph. Looks to be in order.” He handed it back to Barrett, and then rustled in a coat pocket and hauled out a syringe.
Barrett stared at it. “Surely that’s not necessary.”
Simon shrugged. “Not if we know someone. Problem is a lot of us know you, and we all thought you were pureblood Daoine Sidhe.” He held up the syringe. “I need some of your blood. If you refuse, game’s up. You go back to your shop. I go back to my bed. Your choice.”
Barrett frowned and held out an arm, rolling up his jacket and shirt sleeves. He and Caelin had figured this would happen. It was why he’d subjected himself to the excruciatingly painful spell: to create the illusion he had Were blood.
“Be quick about it,” he snapped. “I hate needles.”
Simon clamped his fingers around Barrett’s forearm. When veins bulged, he plunged his syringe in and withdrew a small amount of blood. Barrett wanted to ask if the needle was sterile, but bit his tongue. Even if the vermin infected him with something, he could rid himself of it with magic.
The Were turned to go.
“What?” Barrett demanded, pulling his sleeves back into place. “You’re just going to leave me out here.”
“Until I know for sure what you are.” The door slammed, muting his last few words.
Barrett settled in to wait. After half an hour, he considered mind-linking with Caelin, but didn’t. It was entirely possible someone was observing him from an interior vantage point. He didn’t want to do anything that might feel suspicious or ruin his chances of getting inside. He couldn’t even pull magic to warm himself. Sidhe magic had a certain stink about it. Weres would be sure to sense it, particularly since that’s what they were convinced he was.
The door opened. Simon smirked at him.
Barrett’s heart sped up. Had something gone wrong? Or was this just another test? Hopefully, the last one.
“Looks like you were telling the truth,” the Were snarled after a distressingly long pause. “Get your sorry ass in here. This is not a hotel. No room service. You want food, get it yourself from the kitchen. When you leave, we’ll put you through the same tests again.”
“The hell you will,” Barrett snapped, annoyance with the cretin getting the better of him. “I expect the same treatment as any other Were. Now where’s Keira?”
“Probably asleep. Follow me.”
Simon led him down a long hall with doors opening off it on both sides. He pulled a door at the end open, stepped aside, and prodded Barrett into a large, airy room. It was empty except for Keira curled on one side and, just as Simon had predicted, asleep on a couch.
“Thank you,” Barrett whispered. She looked so young and vulnerable, he was loathe to wake her.
The Were rolled his eyes and stomped back down the hall. Barrett closed the door softly and stood just watching the young woman. Blonde hair spilled onto the floor. Her breasts were pushed together, the nipples clearly visible through the silky fabric of her top. Her skirt was high enough, he could see the curves of her upper thighs. He wondered how s
he was keeping warm, and then understood she’d focused a thin trickle of magic.
He felt his cock first twitch, and then swell. There was something very appealing about Keira—a lusty, animal magnetism that drew him like a lodestone. It was why he’d tried to chat her up when she was in his shop. Except he hadn’t done a very good job since she’d run away the second he touched her. Putting her at ease had to be the first order of business.
His cock hardened some more, volunteering to help with the project. It reminded him months had passed since he’d taken the time to indulge in sex with a living, breathing woman. His breath quickened. He dropped a hand to his crotch and rubbed himself through the rough, denim fabric of his pants.
Should I?
She seemed to be deeply asleep. He could reinforce that with a small spell. If it was subtle enough, the Weres shouldn’t even notice. Assuming they were even paying attention now that he was past the gatekeeper.
It would only take a few moments to take the edge off his lust. He sent the barest tendril of magic outward to deepen Keira’s slumber and unzipped his jeans with eager fingers. His cock sprang into his hand, hot, heavy, and ready. He tugged a linen handkerchief out, positioned it, and then stroked himself a time or two. He didn’t have the patience for teasing strokes, so he settled into a familiar rhythm.
His body wanted to come. Needed to. He tightened his grip on his cock to help things along. His gaze strayed to her youthful breasts. It might’ve been his imagination, but her nipples seemed to get harder beneath the barely-there fabric, almost as if she, too, were aroused.
Her lips parted, and she moaned softly. She shifted position, and one of her hands found its way between her legs. Lost in her beauty, so hot he felt about to burst, his breathing quickened, and he moved his hand faster. His dick swelled even more as he thrust into his hand. When she started to rub herself, he exploded, jets of semen arcing into his handkerchief.
He bit back the cry that nearly burst from his throat and tried to get his breathing under control. Keira’s hand was busy between her legs. Her hips writhed. She made little, mewling noises. Her other hand closed over her breast, teasing her nipple.
Barrett tossed his handkerchief into a wastebasket. He forced his still erect cock back into his pants. Zipping up, he strode to the couch and sat next to her on the floor. He placed his hand over the one she had between her legs and withdrew the magic keeping her asleep.
Her eyes fluttered open. Her mouth formed an oh of surprise when she saw him. But then she smiled, her breath coming fast, and pushed her hips against his hand. “I was having the best dream—”
“Let’s make it more than just a dream.” He pulled her skirt out of the way, revealing a lacy thong. Her pussy with its tangle of golden hair was swollen. Her thighs were wet. Barrett’s cock strained against his jeans. He bent his head and fastened his mouth over the sensitive nub between her legs. His fingers slid inside her, and he sucked hard on her clitoris. Keira’s muscles clenched around his fingers. She drove herself against his mouth, making little moaning noises low in the back of her throat as she came.
The sound of her laughter, rich and warm, made him raise his head. “Thanks. I’ve wanted that for hours. We’re not supposed to bring ourselves off.”
He pulled his fingers out of her and looked into her silver eyes, still tasting the musk of her on his tongue. He didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed it before, but she was truly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. His cock throbbed, wanting inside her gorgeous pussy.
Barrett straightened. They had a lot to accomplish. Falling in love—or even in lust—wasn’t on the menu. It would only complicate things.
“Do you have a room we could go to?”
She nodded, grinning at him. “I was hoping you’d want more.” She swung her legs over the edge of the couch and stood, holding out a hand to him. “Come on. Bring the pitcher.” She pointed to a carafe on a small table. “It’s rum. You can drink it. And maybe I can too, if the Weres aren’t spying on us.” Shooting him a mischievous grin, she led him toward a doorway on the opposite side of the room.
Chapter Five
Keira danced up the steep staircase, her body still tingling from Barrett’s fingers and tongue. She couldn’t believe he was here kissing her and touching her.
He’s my customer, a chilly inner voice broke in. Not my lover.
Oh shut up. Let me pretend a little.
The heat of his body enveloped her from behind, almost like a caress. She’d known he was sexy, but the reality, at least so far, was ever so much better than she’d imagined. Keira could hardly wait to get a closer look at the body underneath those faded dungarees, flannel shirt, and well-creased leather jacket. Odd she’d been dreaming about him only to waken and find him kneeling next to her. And the expression on his face… It had looked as if he were worshipping her.
She smiled to herself. She could get used to veneration from someone as handsome as Barrett. Mostly, the Weres treated her like yesterday’s trash—once they pulled their dicks out.
She got to the top of the stairs and ground to a halt. Simon hadn’t told her which room would be hers.
And I wasn’t smart enough to ask.
“Why’d you stop here?” Barrett stood so close to her back, his energy seared her. He placed a hand on her waist.
“This is a, uh, new room for me. I didn’t think to ask where they wanted me.”
“Would you like me to run back down and find the Neanderthal? Oh, I mean Simon.”
She giggled. Barrett had a sense of humor. Very un-Werelike. Most of them couldn’t crack a joke if their lives depended on it. “No. Let’s see if I can do this by a process of elimination. I know most of the girls who are up here. Give me a minute.”
Keira narrowed it down to two possibilities. She knocked at each door. When no one answered, she cautiously pushed them open. “This is easy.” She smiled back over her shoulder. “We’ll take this one. It has a bed. The other’s obviously some sort of conference room.”
She felt good locking the door behind them. No one ever interrupted the girls with their clients on the second floor. It was where the hookers took the upper echelon Weres. Ones who were as likely to spit on you as kill you if they were disturbed. She took the rum pitcher from him and set it on a sideboard.
“Would you like some?” She gestured at it.
He shook his head. “No, I prefer mead.” He smiled at her, and her heart made a funny flip flop in her chest. “It’s the nectar of the gods.”
His words sank in. Skin tightened along the sides of her face as her eyes widened. “Weres hate mead. It makes them sick. How can you—”
She stopped talking abruptly. If something was amiss here, Keira wasn’t sure she wanted to know about it. She liked Barrett, felt drawn to him, even though she didn’t know him very well. If he’d used some sort of arcane magic to finagle his way into Were Calls, she didn’t want to have to turn him in.
Those were the rules, though.
The Weres were very strict about enforcing them. If a non-Were customer managed to get past gatekeeping, it was the hooker’s responsibility to blow the whistle just as soon as she suspected something was wrong. Someone like Simon would take care of the rest.
“Perhaps I misspoke.” Barrett’s words were soft.
She sensed a hint of magic. At first, she considered warding herself, but then she welcomed the subtle compulsion spell because it lent her a built-in excuse. He’d ensorcelled her. She could almost envision herself asking her Were masters what chance she had to see through a powerful mage like Barrett…
“Come here.” He opened his arms.
Eager to step into them, Keira met his gaze, warm and seductive and alluring all at the same time. She tilted her neck back and wasn’t disappointed. He dipped his head and closed his mouth over hers, his tongue probing. She wound her arms around his back and opened her mouth, letting his tongue play inside. Barrett’s body felt incredible against her, all tough sine
w and hard muscles. She towered over many of her other patrons, but he had several inches on her. An exotic, spicy smell surrounded them. It reminded her of some of the herbs in his shop and made her want him even more.
Barrett moved his hands slowly down her back until they settled on the curves of her ass. He pulled her against him. She felt the jut of him, hot and hard, between them. Keira’s blood heated. Her breathing quickened. Having him really and truly in her arms trumped the best fantasy she’d ever had about him. Her nipples formed hard peaks where they pressed against his chest. It surprised her since she’d just come and, when you got right down to it, fucking was a job for her. She’d never been like Darla who lived, ate, and breathed to have it off with the Weres.
A light tapping sounded on the door. It took her a moment to register someone was knocking. She pulled away from their kiss. “That’s odd,” she murmured. “No one’s ever disturbed me the few times I’ve been up here before.”
Keira glanced at Barrett. A funny look flashed across his face, but it was gone in an instant. She could’ve sworn he was worried. Maybe he had engaged in some sleight of hand to get into Were Calls. Keira girded herself to look and act totally clueless if Simon or one of the others blasted into the room. She blanked her mind, but there wasn’t much she could do about the knot her stomach twisted into.
“It’s me. Let me in,” sounded through the door.
Breath whooshed from Keira, and she smiled at Barrett to reassure him. “It’s just Renn. She’s one of my Fairy friends. See, she found me last night…” Keira faltered and halted her flow of words. No reason to tell Barrett any of that. She could pretend all she wanted, but he was only a customer. He couldn’t possibly be interested in the mundane aspects of the rest of her life. No. He was only here for a piece of ass. “Do you mind?” She gestured toward the door. “I’m sure she won’t stay long.”
