Dark Moon: Fae/witch paranormal romance (Hells Gate Book 1)

by Terina Adams

  “I’m interested in you.”

  She raised her eyebrows as encouragement but remained silent, trying her hardest to appear unconcerned with his thoughts of her.

  “You’re as gutsy as hell. Who else would’ve dared what you did the other night. You act uptight, but, Jesus, you’ve got some great shit going on in your head. This place indicates a softer side to you. And judging by how fast you managed to change just now, I’d say you're not entirely unhappy to see me.”

  Like instantaneous hot water, it took seconds for her cheeks to burn.

  “You came here to tell me that?”

  “I came to return your car. Given your little stunt, I didn’t think it was wise for you to come and get it.”

  She crossed her arms and bowed her head a moment. “I’m willing to play happy friends if you’re willing to give me something in return.”

  “As long as it doesn’t involve talking, I’m willing.”

  She put one hand on her hip. “Oh, so that’s you being interested in me and wanting to get to know me better.”

  “No, that’s me being a guy, and an honest one at that. I’ll chat when the time is right.”

  “Your right or my right? Besides you’re not a guy, not a normal one anyhow.”

  He paced toward her. “At this point, does it matter?”

  “Come closer, and I’ll bind you again.”

  “Okay. Which way to your bedroom.”

  She stood, confused.

  “I was going to lay on the bed again.”

  “I was going to do it against the clothesline out back.”

  “More kink, excellent.”

  She chuckled.

  He came closer still. “Am I managing to get under your skin yet.” And a little closer. “You know I could do the same to you.”

  “Bind me?”

  “Manipulate your mind. But I won’t. It’s not my way of getting a woman into bed.”

  But he was manipulating her, only he hadn’t realized it. She didn’t realize it either, until she woke this morning from a wet dream and ran around like a teenager before her first date when he turned up at her doorstep.

  “Thank you for the return of my car, but I think it’s time you left.” And went far away from me, Mr. Locke of the Fae. At least until I can smack some sense into myself.

  “Here’s the problem. I drove your car, which means I can’t get back unless you take me. I mean I could’ve got one of the boys to follow me, but I figured you wouldn’t appreciate two Fae on your doorstep. Besides, I wouldn’t trust the boys with knowing your whereabouts.”

  “I’m not so sure I trust you.”

  “You can. Trust me.”

  “You can’t even trust your own kind.”

  “The inner circle are tighter than blood. I’d trust those guys with my life, just not yours.”

  “Inner circle. What does that mean?”

  He moved around her to one of her settees and sat, lounging back as if a good movie was about to begin. “I think we need to get comfortable. Since the beds out, this will do.”

  She hesitated. He looked too comfortable sitting on her furniture, and he looked too good sitting there as well. She’d thought him rough, not at all her type, but looks could be deceiving. Yes he was rough looking, but intriguing, quick witted, arrogant beyond belief in a sexy—wait, hold on, don’t go there girl. Scrub those thoughts.

  She sat herself on the edge of the settee adjacent, looking like she was ready to bolt, ill at ease in her own home.

  “You look kind of tense.”

  “With you around, do you blame me? I’ve never had a Fae, and not someone from the inner circle,” she used both hands, miming inverted commas, “in my home before. I’m not entirely comfortable with it.”

  “You’ve nothing to worry about from me. You’re way to enticing. I’m not about to jeopardize any chances I may have.”

  “You are way too conceited—”

  “No, I’m honest. You’re what I want for now, and I don’t see any point in pretending otherwise.”

  This was new for her, the bit about someone desiring her so much, also the bit about being honest about it. She wasn’t a dateless dud, her relationships had numbered fewer than Nyx or Jet, perhaps on par with Dami, but had any of them managed to maintain anything longer than a couple of months? Their heritage, while a savior to mankind, was a curse to their love life. All of them had, at some point, dated the male witches in this town, but their numbers were limited and their personalities even less. Dating non-witches involved subterfuge.

  “I’ve already said I’m not into transience.” He didn’t need to know her history.

  He placed a finger over his mouth and blew out the shh. Then he mimicked her by sitting on the edge of his settee.

  “Look, this is what I’m offering. You and I are from different sides of the barred barricade. Neither of us belongs on the other’s side, which means nothing long term will ever come out of anything we may enjoy together. But I know you’re coming around to me, and I’ve been keen since you fell off your stool at Hells Gate. I say we take the moment with no expectation except for fun. I didn’t exaggerate back at the cottage. I know how to please a woman. You won’t be disappointed. So how about you take your sister’s advice and let loose a little.”

  Selene’s eyes wandered from his face, down his chest and arms. The package certainly looked tempting. In fact, she’d never been proposition by a guy so well put together before. What was she thinking, though? Facing her sisters with the humiliating revelation of binding Locke to her bed had been bad enough. If she slept with him as well she’d have to do the long walk of shame. Christ, what if the elders found out? Being High Priestess, there was a lot of expectation and responsibility placed upon her. It was in Jet and Nyx’s natures to be the wild ones, doing the forbidden things. Selene didn’t know how to be that. Her grandmother made sure of it.

  “My suggestion to you is don’t over think it. You’ll only get lost in negatives.”

  Selene rested her elbows on her knees and her head in her palms. At twenty-five, she was single, a couple of great short relationships behind her, and nothing in the future but her duty. Great life.

  It would be a fling. He offered nothing more, and she would take nothing more. He was right. They could never have a future, so where was the harm in a little fun now before everything turned to cobwebs.

  “If we did this, it’s done my way.”

  “Lay your ground rules.”

  “Complete secrecy.”

  “Who am I going to tell?”

  She gave him a schoolmistress look.

  “Seriously, the boys don’t care whom I fuck.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “It’s the honesty thing. That’s what we’re doing right. I’m going to fuck you and you’re going to enjoy it. That’s a promise.”

  The promise did really good things to her insides, particularly the word fuck, and you’re really going to enjoy it. However, the last thing he would know was how much that turned her on.

  “You like the idea. I can tell by your expression.”

  He leaned forward. “What was it that you liked more? The idea that I’m going to fuck you, or the idea that you’re going to enjoy it.”

  Shit, is this Fae for real. Do Fae read minds as well as manipulate them.

  “You’re wondering how I can tell. Your face is adorably expressive.”

  “I need to think about this.”

  It was his turned to raise his eyebrows. “Sure.”

  “Maybe we can talk later…umm tonight—”

  “Sorry, no can do, babe. Prior engagement.”

  That caught her. Her eyes narrowed. She didn’t want them too, but as he’d made apparent, her emotions enjoyed riding on her face.

  “It’s not female. Club stuff.”

  She stared at him. He held his hands up as if back peddling. “I think it’s time I got going.”

  “I thought you needed a lift.”
>
  “That was when you were going to kick me out of your house. Now we’ve agreed on the basics, I’m willing to allow you space to nut out the finer detail. Say tomorrow.”

  She dissected him with her eyes.

  He pointed his finger at her. “You’re a dangerous woman.” He stood. “I’m out of here before you unravel my secrets.”

  “I don’t do mind manipulation”

  “No, you have better means available to you.”

  13

  The stench of fish, brine and diesel hung in the air. At this end of the wharf, the farthest from their target, a line of old men sat fishing. Anything swimming here would perhaps be full of lead, mercury and whatever shit they dumped over the side of the ships as they made it to harbor.

  Plenty of night activity drowned out the noise of their approaching bikes. Two ships were being unloaded, with the big wench cranes in operation, trucks maneuvering into place, forklifts doing whatever else needed doing on a micro scale.

  Locke and Holt parked next to a high stack of ship containers, either waiting to go on or already having come off with no where to go. The wharf was lit up like a baseball match, which was a good thing. It meant none of the forklifts were going to accidentally run into one of their bikes.

  Their target was the second ship along, already rising high in the water as its load was steadily removed. Except for themselves, everyone appeared busy. Holt and he were the only two people standing around, looking like excess baggage. Dressed in their club jackets, there was no disguising the misfits in the area.

  Holt glanced at his watch. “Couple more hours I reckon.”

  Locke retrieved his cell and pressed the right button. “Down the south end. We can see her. Is our load off? Right. We’ll hold tight.” Without looking at Holt, he answered his silent question. “Still to come.”

  “We should wander.”

  “Better than freezing our asses here.”

  They set a casual pace, keeping to the ship containers and out of the way of the forklifts. By the way they drove those things around, supervisors were obviously restricted to daytime hours.

  “I see the car’s gone.”

  “Returned it today.”

  “So you’re sorted?”

  “Not quite, but I will be tomorrow.”

  Holt stopped, but it took Locke a few more steps to realize. He turned back. “Yeah, what?”

  “My advice is to forget this one. She’s leading you a merry dance, and you’re too blind to see it.”

  “Fuck off. I know what I’m doing.”

  “That’s the worst of it. You think you know. Let me tell you what’s really going on. Without knowing it, you’re hooked, she’s winding you in. She’ll let you dangle for a while until your resistance has all but dried, then she’s going to ground you to dust and sprinkle you over her garden as manure.”

  Locke stared at Holt for a couple of seconds, then laughed. The sensation felt good. He hadn’t laughed like this in ages. When he calmed, he managed to speak. “Is that your way of saying I’m about to follow in Slade’s foot steps?”

  “Slade can’t stand up for himself as far as Aspen is concerned. Do you want to be like that?”

  Locke shook his head and continued walking. “You’re crazy, man.”

  “At least I’m not blind.”

  “Jesus, you’re pessimistic as well.”

  Holt caught up. “Rather that than have my dick chained.”

  Locke couldn’t find an answer. He held the same opinion. With too many women to sample who would? He just wanted to try the witch once, that’s all, one sampler, nothing more. One night should do it. If she was open to a little more, perhaps a regular fling. He could keep it quiet from the guys by using her place. It would work well, hers one night a week, leaving him free for any other women who took his fancy.

  They walked in silence a while longer until the sound of a cocking gun from behind made them halt their stride.

  “I’m thinking you guys don’t belong here.”

  Both began to turn around.

  “Easy…easy. Don’t want me to set this thing off now do we.”

  Locke jerked his head at the guy. “What? The toy you’ve got in your hand?”

  The guy seemed puzzled, thrown by Locke’s comment. Then a pathetic smile like a dopey dog spread across his face. “Yeah, right. You think the funny talk will get you out of the shit mess you’ve just walked into.” He even started to snort a chuckle-laugh combination.

  “I’m not saying anything funny. You?” Locke directed the question at Holt. “The only thing I’m thinking funny is the head on your shoulders, and the pop gun in your hand.”

  The guy’s smile dropped. “Smart ass, fucking bikers. Pop gun, huh. I’m going to pop you so full of bullets you’ll be shitting lead for the rest of your life.”

  “Big words for a kid half my size. How ‘bout I make pretty pictures on the wharf with your face.” Holt took a step forward.

  He waved his gun from Locke to Holt. “In my world the only words worth listening to are those backed by a weapon.”

  “In our world we don’t need weapons.” Locke also approached. The guy’s hand wavered, attempting to resist Locke’s silent command. In his mind he would see the enemy, but not as the two people in front of him. It was the one holding the gun. He backed a couple of paces, crying out his surprise. His head swung left to right as if searching for his target. He looked at the gun in his hand. Finally he realized where his bullseye lay. It quivered in his hands as the awful truth sunk home. Then he turned the barrel around and pointed it toward his face, making desperate panicky noises.

  Holt and Locke waited while the problem disposed of its self.

  “Release him.”

  Locke swung at the sound of her voice. His eyes flared wide. “Selene.”

  “Release him now.”

  “What are—”

  “Release him, Locke.” Her stare met his more than halfway. Such was its intensity.

  The guy dropped the gun and staggered back, falling on his ass.

  Locke turned to him and in frustration yelled, “go.”

  He was too stunned to understand Locke’s command. Once his wits returned he looked up at the three of them. He grabbed for the gun and raised it to aim. Locke again took control of his feeble brain, convincing him the gun weighed tons. It clattered to the bitumen. “Do as I say. Go.”

  What the hell had he just done?

  The guy got up and ran like something big and ferocious was on his tail, because in his mind it was.

  Locke turned back to Selene, catching Holt’s expression on the way around. Holt rolled his eyes.

  “Give us a second will you.”

  Holt held Locke’s gaze long enough to express his disgust before moving past both Locke and Selene, whom he also pinned with a hard stare as he went by, and further down the wharf.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “Following you.”

  Locke stared, his mouth gaping like the stupid kid they had just dealt with. He asked the question in anger, but he hadn’t expected a truthful answer.

  “Why? This has nothing to do with you.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing that concerns the witches.”

  She remained barricaded, with her arms crossed over her chest.

  “This is our private dealings, with no connection to the girl.”

  “You’re waiting for a shipment of drugs.”

  “Like I say it’s got nothing to do with you.”

  “Locke—”

  “Remember what I said. We are who we are, and nothing’s going to change that. We were going to keep the realities of our lives outside the door while we played inside.”

  “I can’t turn my back on everything you do. Not just for sex. It’s not in me.”

  “What’re you having a problem with? You can be as broad as you like.”

  “For starters, you were about to let that guy shoot himsel
f.”

  “My brain’s wired differently. I don’t see every human life as sacred. Some are better off living with the devil.”

  “But who are you to judge? What gives you the right to determine who is worthy and who isn’t?”

  “When someone’s pointing a gun at my head, he’s not worthy.”

  “That must put everyone you know on the list.”

  He didn’t want to laugh, but found the truth in her statement amusing. He nodded to Holt, standing a couple of sea containers further away. “He’s not.”

  “Anyone not connected to the club.”

  “You.” She stared for a while longer before her lips twitched.

  “I’m no saint, and I’ve never promised to be one. But I’m a hell of a sight better than most. Trust me. I’m in the business, I know. I’ll give you what you want, Selene.”

  “In the bedroom, I don’t doubt it.”

  “I never promised beyond that.”

  She was quiet. He’d spoken the truth. He mentioned a good time, nothing more. Why he allowed the guy to go and why he was bothering to smooth things over with her was disturbing, but at this time he didn’t have the luxury of probing his motivation beyond the surface.

  “Go. Things are bound to heat up soon. You being with me makes you a target.”

  “This isn’t your load.”

  “Nope. But it will be after tonight.”

  Before she could say anymore his cell rang. The words Tray appeared on the screen. He hit the answer button. “Yeah. Okay.” He ended the call.

  “Holt.” The word echoed through the air at the same time as the noise of gunfire. Locke’s first reaction was to dive on top of Selene, dragging her to the ground. He then turned to look back at Holt, who’d pulled his weapon and was crouching down beside the end of a stack of sea containers. Locke reached behind for his own piece, not something they usually needed to carry, scanning in the direction of the gunfire.

  There was movement on his left. A head poked through between a gap in a three-tiered stack of sea containers adjacent and further up. Locke reacted without much thought. He aimed and let a bullet loose, knowing where all of Hells Gate were stationed, so confident his bullet wasn’t about to hit one of his own.

  His aim was true. The guy slumped down, his body falling half outside his hiding place.