Fanged Desire (Leyore Coven #3)

Chapter 4

Kinsley

She was there, like she had been so many nights before.

I saw her the moment I stepped off stage, pulse still thrumming from the performance. The woman who had been occupying my thoughts far too often lately. She was standing near the bar, watching with that same quiet intensity, dark eyes zeroing in on me like I was the only person in the room. The corners of my lips quirked into a smile before I could think better of it, and then quickly straightened out again.

It would be easier to just wave, acknowledge her presence, and move on. She hadn’t come closer since that first night, hadn’t cashed in on that private session I promised her. I had made up my mind that I would not go pursuing strangers, enticing as they may be, when I had a missing person to find. But I hadn’t expected her to keep her distance too. A petty part of me wanted to beat her at her own game.

But something traitorous inside me tugged in the opposite direction.

My feet carried me toward her before I could second-guess myself. I weaved through the crowd, heart picking up speed along with my step as I approached the bar. She moved too, closer to me, something I hadn’t anticipated. When I finally reached her I opened my mouth, ready to say something – anything – but she beat me to it.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

She said it abruptly, tone calm and casual, as though she hadn’t just disarmed me before I’d gotten a word in edgeways.

I blinked, momentarily off-balance by the directness.

“I – you. Yeah, sure,” I managed, pulse stuttering under that unwavering stare.

I wanted to ask her where she’d been, why her coat looked crisper than usual, why the buttons of her shirt were closed up to her throat, rather than splayed open like she usually wore them. I wanted to know why she hadn’t spoken a word to me since that first night.

But before the conversation could go any further, Ethan materialized beside me, grinning like the devil himself.

“Well, look who it is,” the blond dancer crooned, eyes flicking between the two of us with obvious amusement. “Kinsley’s beautiful return client.”

I shot him a look that would have silenced most people, but Ethan was unfazed. He raised his hands in mock surrender, but his grin didn’t falter. “Come on, K, I’ve been dying to meet this particular case of tall, dark, and mysterious.”

He turned his attention to Hunter, eyes narrowing though his smile stayed firmly in place. “I’ve seen you hanging around the bar for weeks. Have you taken a liking to our dear Kinsley?”

Mortified, I felt my cheeks flush, peppering my next words with a bit of bite. “Ethan, I think I left an excuse to leave somewhere over there. Would you mind fetching it for me?”

I had partnered up with the skinny stripper back when I first learned of Penelope’s disappearance. Ethan had gotten me the job at the club, shown me the ropes, and snooped around the underbelly of the city in search of any news of Penelope. He was a friend, a confidante, and a damn good dancer. But in that moment, he was also a pain in the ass.

“All right, all right. I’ll leave you two to… chat.” He gave Hunter a wink that was anything but friendly before sauntering off again.

Hunter watched him go, cool eyes tracking his departure before she gestured after him. “Friend of yours?”

I caught the subtle question within the question and quickly shook my head. “Ethan? Yeah, he’s a friend. And colleague. He’s also very, very gay.” I added the last part with a quick smile, feeling a little silly at how eager I was to make that distinction.

Hunter raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Good to know.”

I cleared my throat, trying to suppress the sudden flutter in my stomach. I shouldn’t have been feeling… whatever that was. I had a mission. Penelope. The name lingered in the back of my mind like a ghost, a needling reminder to keep my guard up.

But it was hard to ignore the way the other woman looked at me.

“So… a drink?” Hunter asked again as the bartender approached, though her eyes stayed fixed on me.

“Yeah,” I agreed, voice a little softer, a smile creeping across my lips despite my hesitation. “A drink sounds good.”

I settled on a stool beside her and let her order for the both of us, acutely aware of the tension in that close proximity – a tension that seemed to grow with every passing second.

“A Bloody Mary, and a gin and tonic – no…” Her eyes slid to mine and my wrinkled nose and returned to the bartender. “Gin and lemonade.”

Spot on.

The guy brought us our drinks and Hunter slid mine over to me with the lanky grace of a supermodel. Somehow, she made even the most mundane of actions an art, something I was determined to mimic during my next performance.

“So,” she said after a few minutes, gesturing toward where Ethan disappeared. “You and Ethan – been working together long?”

I took a long, slow sip of my drink before answering. “A while now. He’s one of the good ones. Always has my back.”

She nodded, her gaze lingering on me as though weighing her next words. “He seems protective of you. And very suspicious of charming strangers. You’ve got yourself a good friend.”

“He’s usually a little more polite,” I grumbled into my drink, but snatched my eyes up at Hunter’s short laugh.

She set her drink down, leaning an elbow on the bar and propping her head up. “No, he’s right to be suspicious. A stranger in the corner isn’t often a good omen.”

I paused mid-sip and eyed her past the glass. “Are you saying you’re dangerous? Because I’ve heard that one before.”

She laughed again and seemed to relax a little, though her expression remained guarded. “All I’m saying is it’s good to be cautious. You’ve got all manner of patrons passing through these doors.”

Her words were a warning, but to what end I had no idea. It occurred to me then that aside from a brief meeting and some fluttering lashes on my part, I had no idea who this woman was, or what she really wanted. And in a place like Micere, where a woman could disappear without a trace, trust was not something you doled out generously.

I also felt a slight pang of guilt for enjoying her company as much as I did. I wasn’t supposed to be here for this, wasn’t supposed to be getting caught up in someone else’s world. Penelope was still missing, and every moment I spent fraternizing with a stranger was a moment spent away from my mission.

But then, as if the universe thought to offer a reprieve, one of the club’s managers approached with a pointed look in my direction.

“You’re on in five.”

I was already stepping away from the bar, setting down my drink as I glanced back at Hunter. The woman was watching me with mild curiosity, like she could read my mind and see the guilt there. I hesitated. She could be innocent, and she could be dangerous. She could also have the answers I needed.

“Stick around,” I said eventually, backing away as I did so. “I’m assuming you’re up for that private session tonight?”

Hunter’s eyes flickered with interest, her smirk returning. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

When I stepped back onto the stage my focus should have been on the crowd, on the performance. But all I could think about was her eyes on me, tracing every slope of my body, burrowing under my skin.

I danced like I had something to prove, every movement deliberate, like I was performing just for her. And maybe I was.

When the set was over and I slipped off stage, I found Hunter waiting at the bar, exactly where I’d left her.

“You stand out,” she said as I approached. “It’s easy to see why this place scooped you up.”

I smiled, leaning against the bar and brushing body glitter from my arms. “Worked my way up. It wasn’t easy, but I tend to over commit once I’ve decided to do something.”

I felt lighter than before, riding the adrenaline rush that came with every stage performance. It gave me the cocky confidence I needed to tilt my head toward the stairway and the private rooms beyond. “Anyway, shall we?”

She seemed to know Micere and its more unsavory clientele. I was curious to probe her, draw out any useful information she might have. And if I enjoyed myself a little more than usual, or added a little more flair to my performance, what was the harm in that?

“Gladly.” Hunter got to her feet and leaned in a little closer, her voice dropping to a near-whisper at my ear. “After that performance on stage, I’m curious; just how flexible are you?”

Needless to say, the subsequent heart palpitations had nothing to do with the athleticism I’d displayed on stage.

The private room was just as intimate as before, and I wasted no time in giving Hunter exactly what she asked for – a sultry, sensual display of flexibility that left little to the imagination.

Hunter took her place on the sofa with no prompting this time while I picked out the music, settling for something a little slower. With a graceful sweep, I dropped into a deep split, thighs stretching to their limits, and held the pose for a heartbeat. I glanced up at Hunter, watching her reaction. Those dark eyes widened slightly, but her expression remained unreadable, though I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her jaw tightened. I had her full attention.

I leaned back on my hands, arching my spine and letting my legs slide together in a slow, deliberate motion. The stretch was sensual, and I took some gratification in the way my body moved like liquid, each muscle working in perfect harmony.

Hunter watched with that same cold intensity, her body completely still, and I could feel the tension thick in the air between us. It was like standing on the edge of something dangerous, something that could tip over at any moment.

I rolled to my knees, curved my spine, torso lifting toward the ceiling, and leaned all the way back until my head touched the floor behind me. My chest rose and fell with controlled breaths, core engaged as I held the pose, knowing exactly how it would look from her vantage point.

Hunter’s silence was palpable, but I didn’t need words to know what she was thinking. The air in the room was charged, electric, and I reveled in it as I slowly brought myself back up, legs curling beneath me. I stretched my arms above my head, tilting my head slightly to catch her gaze, eyes half-lidded with carefully crafted temptation.

With one final, slow movement, I pushed myself onto my hands, toes pointing to the ceiling, before slowly lowering one leg in a controlled split. The demonstration was as much about strength as it was about flexibility, making it look easy when it was anything but.

Finally, I brought myself down and edged toward her. "Flexible enough for you?"

Hunter leaned back and said nothing for a long moment. Her eyes darkened as I inched toward her, and though her posture was relaxed there was a strain in her body that belied the calm facade.

"More than enough," she murmured, her voice a little more rough and husky than before.

And yet, despite the closeness, despite the undeniable pull, she didn’t move an inch. She didn’t push. She let me set the pace, and something about that restraint made my heart race even faster.

“Tell me,” I said as I settled into a rhythmic motion, swirling circles in the small space, “how familiar are you with the patrons of Micere?”

Hunter’s eyes darted to mine for a moment, before sliding away again. “Familiar enough to know not to trust any of them.”

Interesting. Potentially useful. Pity her lips were so distracting.

“And what about you?” I asked, rounding the sofa to dip my head near her shoulder. “Can I trust you?”

Hunter kept her eyes straight ahead of her, but her next question caught me off guard.

“What do you see when you look at me?”

I paused, stopping directly in front of her again, my hand resting lightly on my hip.

I tilted my head, studying her for a moment before responding. “I see someone who doesn’t like to give too much away. Someone who’s seen enough to know when to keep their guard up.”

My lips twitched into a sly smile. “But you’re still here, aren’t you?”

Hunter’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, her fingers tightening slightly on the armrest of the sofa. “Maybe I’m just enjoying the company.”

I smirked and stepped closer. “Maybe. Or maybe you want something more.”

She leaned forward, her voice lowering as she matched my gaze. “And what do you want?”

I paused, and the air rippled with shockwaves. My smile faltered for just a moment. I hadn’t expected her to turn the statement back on me.

It made me feel exposed, caught out. What did I want? I wanted to close the distance between us.

I could feel the urge pulsing through me, a magnetic pull almost impossible to resist. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t let myself get too close. I had worked too hard to get where I was, and crossing a line with a client – no matter how tempting – could ruin everything.

Hunter tilted her head until her face was inches from mine. Charcoal-dark eyes and fathomless pupils, sloped nose and a jawline sharp like the edge of a cliff. Her brow arched as she waited for an answer, a smug smile curling her lips. She won this round.

I pulled back abruptly and retreated to the opposite sofa, breaking the moment before it could go too far. The tension snapped immediately, leaving us both more breathless than we had been before.

We sat in silence for a moment, the unspoken energy crackling in the air between us like a ricocheting gunshot.

I thought I should probably say something, do anything other than stare at her from across the small space. But before either of us could muster a word we were interrupted by a loud banging on the door. A moment later Ethan burst into the room, freckled face pale and frantic.

“Kinsley,” he gasped, pupils blown wide with panic, “we need you. It’s Clara – she’s out cold.”

My stomach dropped, and a moment later a cold calmness descended. I gave Hunter one last, fleeting look and a breathy apology, before following Ethan out the door.