Fanged Desire (Leyore Coven #3)

Chapter 12

Addison

Sitting in the passenger seat of Hunter’s car, I found myself ogling her as opposed to keeping my eyes on the road. She was still as enigmatic a woman as she had been when we first met, and every new detail she offered about herself only added to the mystery.

Everything she did seemed effortless – one hand resting lazily on the wheel, her head propped on the other with her elbow on the window sill. Couple that with the sports car and the low-cut top that showed off her… assets, she could have been a movie star.

But even with her casual attitude and calm composure, there was a tension to her, just noticeable if you looked hard enough. I could see it in the muscle of her forearm, taunt despite her limp grip on the wheel. I could see it in her face too, in the slight furrow of her brow. It was kind of hypnotic, really, trying to decipher her, like there was so much more lurking beneath the surface that I couldn’t quite see. And, I had to admit, I wanted to figure her out.

She glanced sideways at me and caught me staring, before returning her eyes to the road with a knowing smirk. I wasn’t embarrassed, though I probably should have been. Instead, I tilted my head, studying her more openly, curiosity well and truly sparked.

“Are you a witch?” The words tumbled out before I could think of a better way to phrase them.

Hunter snorted, her smirk widening into an amused grin. “A witch? Really? You’re way off.”

I shrugged, leaning back in my seat. “Well, you’re secretive, smart, and clearly not human. I’m just working my way through the list of possibilities here.”

“Good luck with that.” Hunter’s voice was light, but there was a glint in her eyes as she kept her focus on the road.

I frowned, my mind racing through every supernatural creature I’d read about or encountered.

“Okay,” I started again, folding my arms and getting comfortable. “if you’re not a witch, and definitely not a shifter… What are you, then? A mindflayer in disguise?”

Hunter only laughed, though there was a touch of hesitation to the sound. “You’re really determined to figure this out, aren’t you?”

I shrugged. “Can you blame me? You’re kind of impossible to read. Most people don’t have this many secrets.”

Her lips curved into a smile, but she stayed quiet, leaving me to my musings. I narrowed my eyes on her.

“Okay,” I said, “let’s run through the options. Illithid spawn, maybe not. And you can’t be a gargoyle either, you don’t exactly strike me as the brooding type.”

“I brood,” Hunter protested with a mock-serious expression, though her eyes gleamed with amusement. “Just… selectively.”

“Uh-huh. Are you sure you’re not a shifter? I could see you as a wolf or a panther, something dangerous and aloof.”

She seemed to consider it for a moment, then shook her head. “Nope. I’m not a shifter either. But I’ll take the ‘dangerous’ part as a compliment.”

I pouted. “You’re making this difficult. If you’re not a shifter, not a witch… wait.” I raised a finger. “Are you a demon?”

Hunter snorted, almost choking on a laugh. “A demon?”

“Why not?” I shot back, shrugging. “You’re pretty devilish. Plus, you kind of act like you’ve been around a while. You’ve got that timeless, old-soul energy.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was something warm in the way she looked at me. “I’m not a demon. But keep going, this is entertaining.”

“All right, fine,” I said, racking my brain for more options. “Maybe a fae? Though you don’t really have that whole ‘trickster’ thing going for you, and you’re a little too blunt to be a real fairy.”

I tilted my head, watching her closely for any hint, but she gave me nothing. Eventually, Hunter leaned toward me slightly, though she kept her eyes on the road. “What if I told you I’m just a regular human?”

I snorted. “Yeah, right. A human who can take down like eight guys with a few well-placed punches? Not buying it–”

My guessing game was interrupted by a sudden screech of the car’s brakes, and my body jerked forward against the seatbelt as the car came to an abrupt halt. Heart pounding, I turned to Hunter, confused and reeling from the whiplash. “What the hell was that for?”

She didn’t answer, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel, staring intently ahead. All of her bravado was gone in an instant, replaced with something that looked a lot like stricken horror.

Following her gaze I noticed a couple crossing the street – a blonde woman laughing, arm in arm with a man who looked utterly smitten. In stark contrast, there was something cold in Hunter’s expression, a darkness I hadn’t seen before.

“Hunter?” I said softly, hoping to snap her out of whatever trance she’d fallen into.

For a moment, I thought she hadn’t heard me. Then, just as suddenly as she’d stopped, she shook her head, pressing the gas again, and the car rolled forward. But the tension didn’t fade. It lingered, thick in the air between us.

“Do you... know that woman?” I asked carefully, not sure if I was poking at something that should stay buried.

Hunter’s jaw tightened. For a long while, I thought she wasn’t going to answer at all.

But then, after almost a minute of silence, she murmured, “No. Not anymore.”

Ten minutes later, we pulled up to what looked like a fancy spa, the kind of place that keeps its luxury on full display, with marble columns and perfectly manicured lawns to boot.

I stared at it as I rolled down the window, completely confused. “Uh… what are we doing here?”

Hunter seemed to have recovered from her bout of spontaneous depression and shot me a mischievous grin. “We’re here to find one Esmerelde Flawne. She owns this place. She’s also our first lead.”

I sat back, folding my arms with skepticism. “And how exactly did you come across this lead?”

Hunter shrugged. “An associate gave me the names of some shady rich snobs who might do business at Micere. Flawne is the first on the list – a health guru type. I thought it was as good a place as any to start.”

She threw me a teasing glance. “And hey, maybe you can pick up a side hustle while we’re here.”

I blinked, baffled. “A side hustle? Doing what, exactly?”

“You’ll see.” She grinned, looking way too pleased with herself as we walked inside.

The interior was all sleek marble floors, soft lighting, and a faint eucalyptus scent. It was the kind of place that instantly made you feel like you didn’t belong unless you had a million-dollar bank account.

The receptionist, however – a young woman with blemish-free skin and a serene smile, greeted us warmly, clearly charmed by Hunter’s confidence before the swanky woman had even said a word. “Welcome to Flawne and Flow Spa. How can I help you today?”

“A pleasure to be back!” Hunter strolled to the counter like she owned the place, flashing a lazy smile that radiated Hollywood charm. “I’m an old friend of Esmeralde’s. I thought I’d pop in for a catchup while I’m in the city.”

I hung back, feeling like an awkward tourist in a luxury resort.

The woman’s smile faltered for only a moment before her eyes blinked with a faint, dazed sheen and she nodded – perhaps taken in by Hunter’s confidence? Or maybe just baffled into submission. Hell, that smile had worked on me, so who was I to judge?

“Oh, Ms Flawne won’t be in for a little while,” the receptionist hummed, flipping through the logbook in front of her. “But you’re welcome to hang around in the meantime. Feel free to enjoy the amenities.”

Hunter sidled up to me with a grin and a raised brow. “What do you say? Care for a swim?”

I crossed my arms, indignant and out of my comfort zone in the fancy establishment. “How exactly does lounging at a spa help us find my sister?”

She shrugged, completely unbothered by my skepticism. “Come on, you could probably use a break after what happened outside the club. And we’ve got time to kill until ‘ Ms Flawne’ shows up. Might as well enjoy ourselves.”

She mimicked the receptionist's pompous airs and graces when mentioning ‘Ms Flawne’, and I sincerely hoped the poor girl was out of earshot of the mockery.

I hesitated, but there was something in Hunter’s eyes – something playful, almost teasing – that made it impossible to say no. And maybe I did need a break. Or maybe I was just curious to know what she looked like in a swimsuit.

My mischievous accomplice’s grin widened as if sensing my buckling resolve.

“Have you ever had the pleasure of wallowing in a heated pool –” she pulled out a sleek black bank card, waving it under my nose, “ – fully paid for by yours truly.”

“No, but I guess today’s the day,” I muttered, shaking my head with a deep exhale as she directed me toward the changing rooms.

Minutes later, I found myself slipping into a large, luxurious pool surrounded by stone tiles and warm, swirling steam. The water, I had to admit, was heaven – hot enough to ease the tension from my muscles but not so hot that it burned. It was a bathtub, but bigger. All I needed was a glass of wine.

“So, this is our first lead?” I asked skeptically, melting into the warm water like a bar of soap.

Across from me, Hunter slid into the pool with a fluid grace that was enviously unfair. She offered me one of her infuriatingly calm grins to boot. “Yup.”

I opened my mouth to protest, then shut it again. It was becoming increasingly clear that questioning her would get me nowhere. Instead, I watched her through half-lidded eyes, trying (and failing) to convince myself that I was looking respectfully.

Her swimsuit clung to her body in ways that made it impossible not to notice the smooth lines of muscle. Her dark hair was damp, curling slightly as it stuck to the nape of her neck and floated around her shoulders as she adjusted the strap of her swimsuit – and even that simple motion carried an elegance that made it seem like she belonged in a runway shoot rather than a spa pool.

I quickly looked away, pretending to be very interested in the ripples of water.

“This is... surprisingly nice.” I had to admit it, leaning back and letting the heat work its magic.

“Told you.” Hunter’s reply was low and smug.

The warmth and the soothing quiet, it all felt rather dreamlike. But Hunter’s presence was impossible to ignore. I found my eyes drifting back to her, tracing the way her shoulders moved just beneath the water's surface.

Her gaze was coy when she caught me looking, a little playful, like she knew exactly what was on my mind and was enjoying watching me rationalize it. “Liking the view?”

The heat in my cheeks was instant and I quickly glanced away, though it was too late to pretend I hadn’t been gawking. Caught, I couldn’t stifle the nervous laugh that slipped out.

“So...” I said, changing the subject before I embarrassed myself further. “Are you sure you’re not a mermaid?”

Hunter laughed, a deep, easy sound that echoed off the tiled walls. She shook her head, peddling water. “I would’ve made a terrible mermaid. Hell, I used to be terrified of bathtubs as a kid.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the strange confession. “Bathtubs?”

Hunter gave a small shrug, her expression momentarily shadowed. “Yeah. Long story.”

There was something in her voice, an undercurrent of old pain she seemed uninterested in revisiting. The moment passed quickly, her usual playful smirk sliding back into place, but I felt like I’d caught a glimpse of something raw.

But it was gone in a heartbeat, and I was left wondering if I’d even seen it at all.

Floating closer to her without really meaning to, I tilted my head. “You surprise me,” I murmured, louder than intended.

Hunter’s gaze flicked to mine, amusement dancing in her dark eyes. “Good,” she said, drifting closer and flicking water in my direction. “I like keeping you on your toes.”

“So much for the relaxing swim then. I’m starting to think you just wanted to show off your tits in that swimsuit.”

She glanced down, wriggling her shoulders in a way that made the water churn around her. “They are spectacular, aren’t they?”

I wasn’t sure if her cocky attitude had me irritated or aroused. But the burning sensation between my legs suggested the latter.

I cleared my throat, eager to change the subject before she could draw a confession out of me. “Back to my speculations – are you some kind of harpy or something?”

Hunter paddled lazy circles around me, chucking at my indiscreet misdirection. “No, but what makes you think that?”

I stewed over my answer for a moment and instead settled on another question. “How was it that you managed to get the janitor off our backs? I saw him last night – he looked right past me like he didn’t recognize me at all.”

That made her pause her strokes and left her floating in front of me, close enough that I could feel the smooth brush of her legs against my own.

“Who can say?” she said eventually, casting the question aside lightly enough and flashing her usual cunning smile. But those dark eyes were fixed on mine with undeniable intensity. “I can be very persuasive.”

Her legs brushed mine again, intentionally this time. The touch was light, fleeting, but it sent a shiver down my spine.

My breath hitched automatically and I could have sworn her smirk deepened, like she knew exactly the effect she was having on me. The space between us felt charged, the warm water wrapping around us like a silky cocoon.

“Hunter?” It was more of a breathy exhale than a spoken word.

“Hmm?”

“Why are you helping me?”

That teasing, devious expression wavered for a moment, warping out of existence until all that was left were her piercing, fathomless eyes. Her lips straightened out, and her brow creased slightly, like I was some kind of puzzle she couldn’t quite crack. She drifted closer, a hair's breadth away, her gaze searching.

I wondered then if she even knew the answer herself.

My heart quickened as her hand reached out, gently brushing a damp strand of hair from my face. Her touch was soft, almost hesitant, as if she hadn’t expected me to let her get this close.

Without thinking I leaned into the gesture, some touch-starved part of me savoring the warmth of her palm against my cheek. For a split second, Hunter looked surprised – and then that surprise melted into a familiar smirk.

“Do you get this close with all your private clients?”

Heat flooded my cheeks and I acted on impulse, sending a splash of water straight over her head.

“Hey!” Hunter laughed, dodging the worst of it with an exaggerated flinch, whatever tension there was between us subdued for the time being. “That’s not very professional.”

“I’m off the clock,” I shot back, grateful for the steam that hid the blush spreading across my face.

Before either of us could acknowledge the odd moment of intimacy, the receptionist’s voice cut through the steamy haze like a shower of cold water.

“Ms Flawne is ready to see you now.”