“Your turn,” I whispered, pulling Izzah close to breathe the words in her ear. “Distract him and I’ll lift his keys.”
She stared blankly at me, her cheeks flushing almost as pink as the clerk’s. Visibly pulling herself together, she flashed her dimples at the approaching man.
“Are you the two looking for a lost wallet?” he asked, smoothing his receding hair.
“Stolen wallet,” Izzah corrected lightly. “Can we speak privately?”
Smart move, getting out of sight of the desk clerk, who was watching me with beady intensity. We followed the security guard around the corner into a quiet nook with a long gas fireplace.
“I’m terribly sorry about your wallet,” the man said brusquely, “but I’m afraid hotel policy doesn’t allow me to show security footage to the public. You’ll have to file a police report.”
Izzah shot me a “What do I do?” look. I tilted my head in a “get on with it” motion. She grimaced, then transformed her expression into one of despair. Whirling on the guard, she made her lower lip tremble.
“But you don’t understand!” Her tone edged toward hysteria. “My wallet has my security pass card in it. If I lose it, I’ll be fired! I can’t lose my job!”
With a wail, she threw herself against the man’s chest and cried noisily into his shirt. The man’s alarmed stare shot to me, silently begging for a rescue. Clearly, he wasn’t experienced enough with female behavior to recognize fake hysteria.
“Darling,” I cooed soothingly, stepping up to Izzah, “it’ll be fine, I promise.”
As I slid an arm around her, I jostled the guard—and his keys came free in my hand. I tucked them into my pocket as I tugged gently on Izzah. She let out another wail, then released the man and fell into me instead. I wrapped her in my arms.
“I guess we’ll head to the police station,” I told him over her head. “Thanks for your help.”
“Sorry I couldn’t be of more assistance,” the guard muttered uncomfortably, inching away from us. With an awkward nod, he hastened out of the nook.
I waited a moment, then whispered, “He’s gone.”
Izzah’s sniffling ceased. She raised her face, cheeks dry, no sign of a single tear. “Did it work?”
“That wasn’t what I meant by a distraction, but it worked.”
She twisted her mouth. “I don’t know how to be all smoldering and sexy like you.”
Surprised, I responded without thinking. “You’re sexy as hell.”
Her russet cheeks flushed and she tried to duck her head—but my arms were still around her. We realized it at the same time and stepped sharply back.
Slipping the stolen keys out of my pocket, I examined the small black key fob on the ring. If we were lucky, that little bit of plastic and microchip would unlock every door in the building—though there was only one door we cared about.
And beyond it, the air nexus—and Icarus—waited.
Chapter 10
Navigating the building took us ten minutes, but we eventually found an elevator that rose to the 61st floor. The key fob activated it, and the elevator shot upward, leaving my stomach behind. The floor numbers sped by, then the elevator slowed. My equilibrium returned as the elevator stopped and a robotic female voice intoned, “Floor sixty-one.”
The doors slid open. We stepped into an elegant foyer bookended by pristine leather sofas. Across from us was a set of double doors: the penthouse suite.
“Do you think the owner is home?” Izzah whispered.
“No idea.” I jangled the keys, wondering if security carried a master key to every unit. Seemed unlikely.
Cautiously, I approached the security panel beside the doors. I touched two fingers to the blinking panel and sent a surge of electricity into it. It crackled violently, split down the middle, and released a wisp of acrid smoke. The lights in the foyer blinked out.
“Hmm.” Izzah’s voice floated out of the complete darkness. “You may have overdone it.”
“Seems so. Can you get the light off my vest?”
Rustling sounds answered me, then light bloomed. I reclaimed my vest, got out my lock picks, and passed it back to her. She aimed the light at the bolt, and thirty seconds of careful prodding later, I swung the door open.
“Ooh,” Izzah breathed.
We walked into a luxuriously decorated, open-concept condo. The fifteen-foot floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a panoramic view of downtown Vancouver. Sparkling city lights called to me, but I focused on the interior.
“Keep your guard up,” I whispered. “He could be here.”
She nodded soberly, but the flashlight’s gleam revealed her awed excitement. We scoped out the first floor, checking each of the three bedrooms and five bathrooms. Then we ascended the stairs to the second level, where we found a guest suite and a huge outdoor terrace with multiple sitting areas and a full-length swimming pool.
The nexus was subtle—a circle of lines and symbols carved into the terrace’s stone floor. Glass panels acted as both railings and windbreaks, but someone had altered them to swing open and allow the powerful winds to sweep in.
Icarus didn’t appear, nor did he attack us, so I assumed he wasn’t yet present. Returning to the main level, I stopped beside the kitchen island and stared across Vancouver Harbour, dotted with the twinkling lights of ships. A wispy layer of clouds hung below the penthouse, hiding the shorter skyscrapers. Everything was below my vantage point, an endless sea of rooftops and lights.
“Can you believe this place?” Izzah’s voice echoed down the hall. “Look at the size of this bathroom. And this bathroom. And this one! These are bigger than my apartment.”
She reappeared, navigating with her headlamp’s light. Pausing beside me, she too gazed out the window. “This is beautiful. Can you imagine living in a place like this?”
I could. I had. Different buildings, similar levels of luxury.
But I didn’t say that. Turning away, I studied the space. I’d closed the front doors but left them unlocked since the broken security panel was a dead giveaway. Somewhere in this penthouse, we needed to make our stand against Icarus.
Izzah’s presence pulled my attention back to her. She was staring, mesmerized, at the view outside the windows. Her ponytail was crooked, the long strands of raven hair tangled and wisps framing her graceful cheekbones. Soft light caressed her face, a hint of dimples showing in her cheeks.
Her gaze darted to me. “What?”
“Nothing.” I quickly turned away. “We need a plan.”
So we started planning—together. We collaborated on a strategy, then retreated to a corner where we could watch the front door. Behind us, a short hall led to the terrace stairway.
I leaned against the wall, my vest on the floor beside my feet, ready for me to don it when Icarus arrived. We’d agreed it was unlikely he would fly up to the terrace. Six hundred feet was dangerously high for a pair of flapping sandals. With his invisibility spell, he shouldn’t have an issue reaching the penthouse—at which point he’d have to open the door. Invisible or not, we would see that.
If he did fly up to the terrace, at 3:30—three minutes before the deadline—we would head up the stairs and prepare to ambush him at the nexus instead.
“What do you think?” Izzah whispered, leaning beside me. We’d switched off our lights, and the ambient glow of the city scarcely penetrated the shadows. “About Icarus? He has the flying sandals, the reflective mirror, invisibility …”
“He has a sword as well,” I murmured. “I saw it last time.”
“All four godly gifts.” Her white teeth flashed as she worried her lower lip. “What if he is Perseus? What if he’s an immortal demigod come to claim what’s rightfully his?”
“One problem with that theory. If he’s a demigod, then he wouldn’t need a spell to turn him into a demigod.”
A strip of light brushed across her cheek as she looked away.
“What?” I asked softly.
“I’m not convinc
ed that’s what the spell does. You said it, didn’t you? If it makes its user invincible like Perseus, it would be called the Perseus Spell. Why is it called the Andromeda Spell? Andromeda had no special abilities …”
I waited, knowing she was hesitating over words she wanted to say.
“Andromeda was special only …” Izzah unconsciously touched her chest. “… only in her love for Perseus. That was her gift, her power. She loved him with all her heart.”
“What would the spell do, then? What would make it so powerful and sought after?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
I checked my watch. 3:09 a.m. We were so far ahead of schedule we now had a boring wait ahead of us—assuming Icarus didn’t arrive early. Assuming he showed up at all. Maybe he would go to the lighthouse. I wasn’t worried about Aaron’s and Ezra’s safety, not in a secluded location where they could both let loose, but their ability to stop Icarus concerned me. The man was a master of escape.
Not wanting to dwell on it, I watched that line of light slide over Izzah’s features as she tilted her head to watch the suite’s front doors.
“Artifacts and mythology are a passion of yours,” I murmured. “Why did you join the Odin’s Eye guild? They’re bounty hunters, not scholars.”
She fidgeted with her jacket zipper, then undid it and slid the garment off.
“Overheating,” she mumbled, tossing it across the hallway into a dark corner. She wore a tight, black V-neck sweater, and I couldn’t stop my gaze from following the curve of her neck down across her collarbones to the soft swell of her chest. “I wanted to join an adventurer guild.”
Her statement yanked my attention back to her face. Luckily, she was staring at the doors and hadn’t noticed my wandering gaze.
“I want to explore ancient ruins and recover fabled artifacts and discover mythics of legend.” She sighed. “But those guilds only take the best. I don’t have the skills, so I joined Odin’s Eye to learn combat and fill out my résumé.”
“How did you get in without combat skills?” I asked, then added quickly, “No offense intended, but I heard they only take experienced combat mythics.”
“I’m not a useless damsel, Kai. I’ll have you know I’ve got more tricks in my bag—some badass ones.”
A smile pulled at the corner of my mouth. “I’d like to see what you can really do.”
“Who says I’ll show you?” she asked, her mood souring. Her gaze dropped to my mouth before flicking back up. “Nice try. I’ve got your number-lah now.”
“You’ve got my number?” My brow furrowed. “What does that mean?”
“It means that flirty little smile of yours won’t work on me.”
Flirty smile?
She gave me a long, hostile look. “You’ve been flashing me that smile since we met—little hints of it, hmm? Thought you could sweet talk your way into my good books, eh leng chai?”
Annoyed, I snapped, “Why do you keep calling me that?”
“Leng chai? It means ‘pretty boy,’ but don’t change the subject.”
My eyes narrowed. “Remind me what we were talking about.”
“You, testing your whole flirt playbook on me all night. I’m not buying it.” She made air quotes and mimicked a male voice. “Is flirting ever sincere?”
My temper flared. “I haven’t been flirting with you.”
“Oh no? You haven’t been checking out my ass every time I turn around, or giving me sultry looks I barely catch before you look away, or sneaking hints of a smile like you might actually have a playful side under all that alpha need for control?”
I stared at her, momentarily speechless. “I wasn’t—I didn’t—you think I was—”
She watched me stammer, her defensive anger fading into confusion.
“I wasn’t flirting with you,” I repeated in an angry growl. “That was me thinking you’re smart and beautiful and attractive.”
Her mouth popped open. She closed it so fast her teeth clicked. “Isn’t that what flirting is?”
“No,” I said sharply. Flirting was … flirting was a calculated manipulation to gain a specific result. It was something I planned, like with the clerk, not … I shook my head. “I wasn’t flirting with you.”
She blinked slowly, then a devious look overcame her features. “On purpose. You weren’t flirting on purpose.”
I glared at her, unwilling to repeat myself a fourth time.
“Oh, come on, Kai. All those little smiles?”
I crossed my arms against growing prickles of embarrassment. “I don’t remember giving you ‘little smiles.’”
She laughed. “Oh, you were, leng chai. You were.”
Her throaty laughter drew my gaze back. A mischievous smile played on her lips as she pushed off the wall to face me.
“You don’t like being wrong,” she observed, studying my face. “You don’t like it when things are out of your control. You want to be in charge.”
I frowned but didn’t disagree. She shifted closer, but I kept my arms crossed as a barrier between us.
“Newsflash, Kai. You’re out of control now. You’re not in charge. And …” She leaned closer, her breasts brushing against my folded arms. “And you’re very, very wrong that you haven’t been flirting with me … all—night—long.”
She breathed the last three words, then her hands were reaching up. She ran her fingertips across my cheeks, slid her fingers into my hair, and pulled my head down.
Our lips met.
Hot adrenaline ignited my veins. Resolutely ignored lust broke free. I finally acknowledged it: Since I’d first pinned her under me behind the wall at the collector’s property, this had been sizzling between us. Interest. Attraction. Flirtatious desire. And it’d been growing more difficult to ignore all night.
My hand found her cheek, holding her face to mine as I closed my mouth hungrily over hers. Another soft, throaty laugh vibrated her throat, and she pulled against my hand.
“Back in control already?” she teased.
A rueful smile tugged at my lips—then I pulled her hard into my chest, spun her around, and pressed her into the wall. She gasped, then my mouth was covering hers.
I kissed her hard before pulling back. “Can you see the door?”
She peered out of the hall. “Yes.”
“Good. Keep an eye on it.” Then I kissed her again, craving the mouth I’d been watching all night. I pushed harder into her, feeling every line of her lean, sexy body against mine. Those endless legs. Curvy hips. Small, firm breasts. And—
I slid my hands down her sides, then pushed them behind her and grabbed hold of her perfect ass.
“I knew it!” she exclaimed breathily. “I knew you were staring at my backside half the night.”
Ignoring that, I pulled her hips against mine, and my tongue slid impatiently between her lips. With a quiet sound of pleasure, she tangled one hand in my hair to hold my mouth against hers. Her other hand slid down my shoulder and she dug her fingers into my hard bicep.
“Aha,” I murmured against her mouth. “I knew you were feeling me up while you dried my clothes.”
“How could I resist?” Her head fell back against the wall as I kissed the edge of her jaw. “You and those dark, smoldering eyes.”
I caught her earlobe in my teeth, biting gently, and she shivered against me. “You’ve been teasing me all night.”
“Me?” she squawked. “I didn’t—”
“Your voice goes right under my skin.” I pressed my mouth to her neck and she moaned softly. “You’ve been pushing all my buttons.”
“I—I didn’t mean to,” she protested breathlessly.
I brought my mouth back to hers and nipped her lower lip. She checked the suite doors, then looked up at me. For all her claims about having no idea how to do a “smoldering look,” her eyes burned right through me and left me raw—and ravenous.
My mouth crushed hers again. Our tongues flirted, our breathing fast and heavy, our han
ds sliding over each other. When my fingers found their way under her shirt and slid across the smooth, hot skin of her lower back, I gathered my self-control with effort.
Pulling back, I reluctantly withdrew my hand to check the time. 3:18 a.m.
“Fifteen minutes,” I said.
“We should probably pay attention now,” she murmured, her gaze traveling greedily over my face. She touched the corner of my mouth. “One more time.”
“Huh?”
“That little smile—the teasing, flirty one.” She laughed at my blank expression. “Maybe it’s better you can’t do it on command.”
I leaned against the wall again, this time with Izzah tucked against my side. As my breathing evened out, tension replaced desire. The minutes dragged by, our nerves winding tighter.
Tilting my wrist up, I watched the time tick over to 3:28. Five minutes left. Would he come?
A soft sound. A flicker of light under the suite doors. The handle turned and the door slowly opened, revealing an empty threshold.
Icarus had arrived.
Chapter 11
Izzah and I slipped up the stairs and out the terrace door. Icy wind whistled over the protective glass panels, and the patio stones gleamed wetly in the moonlight. We ducked around the corner, out of sight, and as I pulled on my vest, she waved her hand toward the swimming pool. Water sloshed out of it and across the stone, thickening the layer of moisture.
The soundless buzz of a covered electrical socket drew my attention. I’d blown the breakers inside the penthouse, but this one was still working. Flipping the cover open, I pressed two fingers to the power outlet.
Electricity flooded into me and tiny crackles ran up my arm.
“There’s so much wrong with that,” Izzah whispered dryly.
We waited in tense silence. Icarus must be moving with caution, but he was in danger of missing his 3:33 a.m. deadline.
Izzah gasped and pointed upward. “Look!”
I dared to raise my eyes from the terrace. The velvety night sky stretched from horizon to dark horizon, the view unbroken by any obstacles. Stars glittered, fighting to be seen through the city’s yellow radiance, and the moon hovered low.
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