Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
Iignored the sudden leap of trepidation and glanced up, spotting his shadow more so than him. “That you hiding up there, Eljin? Or do I need to get my knives out?”
His laugh floated down from the loft, warm and unconcerned. “If you were going to get your knives out, you would have done so by now. I was just getting dressed after stepping out of the shower—would you like to come up here and play for a while?”
“Haven’t got time to play, sadly.”
“Another date?”
“No, a staff member down. I need to get back to the tavern to help out.” The wood song told me he was standing next to the bed, placing something into the bedside table’s top drawer.
Something that was on the small side, made of wood, but also inlaid with some sort of silver. A gift? Or something else?
Instinct said the latter, meaning I probably needed to check it out when—if—I got the chance.
“Ah. Shame,” he commented.
“In an even bigger shame, I have an early start tomorrow morning, so there can be no after work activities.”
He appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing jeans but little else. “And now, I am bereft.”
I smiled, enjoying the muscular goodness on show as he came down the stairs. Bad guy or not, he was very well built for a Talien pixie. They did tend to be on the leaner side than us Aodhán. I crossed my arms and leaned a hip on the kitchen bench. “How come you’re home so early?”
He walked over, tugged me into his arms, and kissed me, long and soundly.
There was a part of me that wanted to pull back, to ask him to stop, but I didn’t.
I had to play it carefully, because if he was a pawn in the other side’s game, the last thing I wanted was to spook him into running before we could get any information out of him.
And if he wasn’t a pawn, well, the sex was good.
His eyes gleamed knowingly when he finally stepped back; that kiss had been deliberately intense and definitely did have the desired effect. My lips were tingling, my body trembling and achingly hot with desire.
But he didn’t immediately take advantage of the situation, as I’d have expected. He simply walked around the bench and got two cups out of the cupboard. “If I said a sudden bout of jealously, would you believe me?”
“After that kiss? Maybe.”
I lightly ran a finger across my lips, but the burning didn’t immediately go away.
I frowned, reached for one of the cups, then turned on the tap and drank some water.
It helped. And yet, the stirring unease increased.
Instinct—and the Eye—remained mute to any immediate danger, so the unease might be nothing more than the need not to be intimate with one man when I was so hung up on the other.
.. but even as that thought crossed my mind, I smacked it away.
This wasn’t guilt. This was something else.
He laughed. “Remember I said my sister was missing her kids? Well, she decided to go back early. That left me with little to do in London, so I came back.”
“Little to do in London? Are you insane?”
He shrugged. “I have been to London many times. It holds no particular appeal to me these days.”
“Huh.” I finished the water and pushed the cup back to him. “While you’re making that, I might have a quick look around for the brooch.”
“I doubt it’s upstairs. I vacuumed before I left and would have found it.”
“It was on my coat, so it wouldn’t be up there anyway.”
I turned and made a show of checking the sofas, thrusting a hand between each cushion, and then kneeling to look underneath.
All the while aware of his gaze on me, of the heat rising within and the growing tide of need.
I wanted him with an urgency that was almost surreal, but it wasn’t as if I hadn’t felt this level of overriding need before with him. It was just... troubling.
“Anything?” he said eventually.
I sighed and shook my head. “It must have come off somewhere else. I’ll make a report, but it’s likely gone.”
“Was it a valuable piece?”
I walked back to the bench and sat down on one of the stools. “It was a gift from Mom, so to me, yes.”
“Of course, sorry.” He pushed my tea across the bench, then moved back around and sat beside me on the stool.
His bare arm brushed against mine, and though I was wearing a sweater it felt like I was being touched by flame.
My whole body went up, and it was all I could do to remain where I was and not climb into his lap and take what my body so desperately needed.
I needed to get out of there. Now. Before I did something I might—or might not—regret.
Perhaps the gods on my side of the game were listening, because at that precise moment, my phone pinged. I thrust to my feet, hurried over to my purse, and dragged it out. It was nothing more than an advert from a favorite dress shop, but I wasn’t about to let it go to waste.
I grimaced and swung my purse over my shoulder. “Sorry, duty calls. I have to go.”
“Now that is a damn shame.” He followed me over and helped me into my coat, his fingers brushing my skin and causing utter havoc. Then he tugged me close, kissed me again, long and slow, before whispering, “Are you really sure you want to leave?”
No, gods no. I swallowed hard and stepped out of his arms. “I can’t stay. Ingrid already does way too much.”
“Tuesday then?”
“Tuesday,” I agreed breathlessly, then turned and hurried out of the apartment.
He watched me all the way down to the street, a heat I could feel even after I was long gone from his sight. Even then, the wanting did not leave me. It was intensifying rather than easing.
I dug out my phone again and called Darby. “Hey, you busy right now?”
“Just coming home from seeing Rossita and Ruairí. Why?”
“Your home, or Lugh’s?”
“Mine for now.” A hint of concern now touched her tone. “To repeat, why?”
“It’s possible I might have been drugged. I need you to check.”
“Fuck, Beth, where are you? I’ll come to you.”
“I’m near the tavern but—”
“No buts—just get there and stop moving about.”
“You’ll find me in the shower. A very cold shower.”
“What the fuck?”
“I’ll explain when you get there.”
“Oh, you certainly will, my friend.”
She hung up and I continued on, doing my best to ignore the desire raging through my body.
I made it to the tavern without giving in to the almost overwhelming urge to jump the nearest man’s bones, and hurried upstairs, stripping off as I all but ran into the shower.
In the end, ice water didn’t do all that much, but masturbating did at least ease the all-consuming need.
It remained in the background, though, a heated river that showed no inclination to cool.
The question was, if the raging desire was due to some sort of drug, how had he given it to me?
I’d never gotten around to drinking the tea, and if he’d somehow done it via the kiss, surely it would have affected him as much as me.
The why, however, was easy enough—to get information—but what type?
Was he really working for the other side of this godly game, or was something else going on?
Was he indeed under the control of Bia’s Blade and its wielder?
Was I really that bad a judge of character?
Yes, that inner voice replied glumly. Yes, you certainly are.
The thunder of Darby’s hurried steps echoed through the building long before she actually appeared.
“I’m okay,” I called out, grabbing a robe and tying it on as I padded barefoot over to the fireplace. I hadn’t lit it for well over a day, and the chill in the air was getting noticeable.
She appeared on the landing just as the fire caught, her face flushed with concern. “I thought I told you to sit down and not move.”
“It’s not that sort of drug. No death waiting in the wings.”
“I think you’d best let me be the judge of that.” She pointed imperiously at the sofa. “Sit. Now.”
I sat. She squatted in front of me, pressed her fingertips against my temples, then closed her eyes. Her healing energy surged, bathing me in warmth, sweeping every inch of my body slowly and carefully.
“Well, fuck,” she murmured. “You’re right. It’s definitely not that sort of drug.”
“Do you know what caused it?”
“Yes, although it’s a combination I’ve not seen before. Sit still while I chase it from your system.”
“How did it get into said system?”
“Sitting still also means not moving your mouth.”
I chuckled softly but obeyed, waiting patiently while she worked her magic. After a few seconds, the inner urge to get down and dirty with the nearest man eased; after a few seconds more, it fled altogether.
She sat back on her heels and sighed. “Right, you’re now safe from the procreation urge.”
“What the hell caused it?”
“A creative mix of Devil’s Breath and Damiana.”
I frowned, vaguely remembering Damiana being mentioned in one of the conversations I’d “overheard” between Carla and her boss. I’d presumed they’d been talking about drugging a council member, but what if it had been me?
Did that mean Eljin was indeed working with them? And if he was, was it willingly or unwillingly?
“I know Devil’s Breath can make you feel so drowsy that you can’t remember what was going on or what you were doing, but what does Damiana do?”
She picked up the teapot I’d left on the coffee table earlier, then rose and walked over to the kitchen. “It’s a herb that dates back to the ancient Mayans, who used it to improve sexual interest and desire. It’s quite powerful.”
“Yeah, it is,” I muttered. “But how does it get into the system?”
“Usually via food or drink, but it can be applied through transdermal administration.”
“Would that include a kiss?”
“Yes, although using such a method would affect the kisser as much as the kissee.” She made the tea and returned, placing a tray containing the refilled pot, two new cups, and an unopened packet of Chocolate Hob Nobs on the table.
“Given where you were going today, I’m guessing Eljin is behind this whole misadventure? ”