Chapter 2 #2
“Pretending that they’re your bane would be a perfect cover if you were working with them, right?”
Hexx stuck out his bony chest. “I’m an independent contractor. I don’t work for anyone. And even if I did I would never be with them.”
“Exactly what a spy would say,” Wynn insisted, even though she truly didn’t think the demon had betrayed her.
Hexx was many things. Devious, immoral, and willing to sell his soul for a few bucks.
But he wasn’t a poker player. Any lie would be etched on his face.
“You told me that there was an item with enormous powers hidden at the Witch’s Brew, deliberately leading me into their trap. ”
Tossing the crystals on a nearby tote, Hexx licked his lips. “Look, I was just repeating what I heard. If you want to blame someone for the false information, then...” Hexx abruptly gasped. “Shit.”
“What?”
“I overheard two fairies talking about the item when I was at the Dead Badger. I thought they were talking kind of loud about something that was supposed to be a big secret.” He grunted. “And now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure one of the fairies works for Valen.”
A genuine stab of fear pierced Wynn’s heart. She didn’t live in New York City, but she traveled through the area often enough to recognize the name. You’d have to live under a rock not to know who he was.
“Valen the vampire? The local leader of the Gyre and one of the most powerful members of the Cabal?” she hissed. “That Valen?”
“Yeah.” Hexx fisted his hands as his eyes darted from side to side. As if he were expecting something to leap out and attack. “They set you up, not me. Which means they’re probably chasing you right now. Dammit. Get out of here.”
“Don’t be such a baby. No one followed me here.” Wynn reached into the pocket of her coat, brushing her fingers over the stones.
It was supposed to be a reminder that she’d taken all the necessary precautions to avoid being tracked. A promise that no one could know she was in this dingy apartment. But instead of the confidence that she was seeking, a wave of dread cascaded through her.
Had the Cabal realized who she was and what she was doing? Did they have some means of tracking her that she didn’t know about?
That would explain why she’d felt as if she were being stalked since arriving in New York.
“Shit,” she breathed.
“Wynn? What’s wrong?”
Hexx’s sharp question cut through the panic that threatened to cloud Wynn’s mind. Right now it didn’t matter who set the trap. All that mattered was getting back to her lair before she could be captured. Once she was safe she could reconsider her current plan of action.
“You know what? I think you’re right,” she said. “We should run.”
Giving in to the abrupt impulse to flee, Wynn ignored the door behind her and instead leaped forward, clearing the nearby stack of totes.
“What?” Hexx watched her race past with wide, frightened eyes. “Dammit, Wynn. If those leeches—”
She didn’t hear the end of his threat as she crashed through the windows and plummeted to the sidewalk.
She landed awkwardly, pain jolting up her legs and into her lower back.
Unlike demons and vampires, she didn’t have superpowers.
If she broke her ankle, she was going to be incapacitated until she could steal a healing potion.
The knowledge usually made her avoid performing any daring feats. She left that to amateur thieves who loved the drama. Tonight, however, speed was more important than caution.
Reminding herself of that fact, Wynn limped down the street. Within a block she felt the familiar sensation of being watched.
“Leave me alone,” she growled, wincing as she picked up her pace.
Tomorrow she was going to be too sore to move. Always assuming she made it to tomorrow.
A fresh surge of adrenaline raced through Wynn, giving her the strength to dart down an alleyway and through a rusted door she’d left wedged open.
Just because she was forced to ad-lib her current plans, didn’t mean she was completely reckless.
She had her escape in place before entering the Witch’s Brew.
“Stop!”
The male voice sliced through the darkness, edged with a ruthless command. Along with it came a blast of compulsion. The power wrapped around Wynn, stroking over her skin with a shocking heat. That wasn’t a leech. Their magic was frigid. Like being touched with an icicle.
This was...
Hell, she didn’t know. She’d never felt anything like it.
The realization sent her scurrying across the cement floor slowly crumbling to dust. The building had once been a fish market, but it’d been stripped down to the studs several years ago.
Best of all, the ceiling was sagging and the entire structure leaned to the side, slowly losing its battle against gravity.
No one was willing to enter when there was a risk of a total collapse, not even the humans who spent their nights on the street.
It made it a perfect location to stash one of her skipping stones.
Limping through the shadows pierced by moonlight from the holes in the ceiling, Wynn paused long enough to bend down and touch the ground.
She closed her eyes, shuffling through the various strands of magic that twirled through her like a spiderweb, weaving and unweaving as if seeking to claim her attention.
It usually created an explosion of sparkles that enchanted Wynn.
Who wouldn’t enjoy watching their own personal lightshow?
But lately, one of the strands had become thicker and darker than the others.
The pulsing crimson thread was not only a distraction, but she had no idea what magic it was connected to.
The only thing for certain was that since it appeared she’d been tormented by nightmares that left her shaken and drenched in sweat.
Eventually she feared that she would get to the point where she was too afraid to sleep.
Then what would happen?
She would collapse from exhaustion.
Shaking her head, Wynn forced herself to focus on the paler strands, choosing a blue one.
Mentally plucking it away from the others, she allowed it to coil through her body and out the tips of her fingers.
The magic shuddered, as if struggling to work.
She clenched her teeth. It wasn’t unusual for the magic she’d acquired to fade.
Sometimes she used it once and it was gone.
Other times she kept it with her for decades, like the skipping stones.
It all depended on the power held inside the object and how much magic she absorbed.
Or at least, that’s how it used to work. Now the strands could work fine one minute and then give out a second later. Or twist into a spell that she’d never seen before.
Yet another reason she was increasingly concerned that the new, mystery strand was causing damage in her body.
At last the magic flowed through her, attaching to the cement before spreading up to the sagging ceiling and from side to side to form an invisible barrier. It wasn’t large, but it provided enough protection for her to scurry to the corner and grab the stone she’d hidden earlier in the day.
Plucking it off the dusty ground, she rubbed her thumb over the smooth surface, hissing in frustration as the magic refused to ignite. At the same time, the heavy tread of boots sent jolts of alarm through her.
“You can’t hide in the corner, little mouse,” the rich male voice chided.
Clutching the stone in a tight grip, Wynn forced herself to turn. She didn’t mind people thinking she was a thief or a liar or a swindler. She was all those things. But she’d be damned if she’d let them label her a coward.
Pretending she wasn’t completely unnerved by her creepy stalker, Wynn tilted her head high and squared her shoulders.
Bam.
Warrior-woman mode activated.
Then the male stepped into a pool of moonlight and her world shattered. Just like that. One minute she was Wynn, thief extraordinaire and the next everything she’d known and believed in was being stripped away and she was catapulted into a new, startling reality.
A reality that included a sexy, outrageously decadent creature who stepped up to the barrier and laid his hand against her magic. A gut-punch of power suddenly thundered through the empty building.
Wynn couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. She didn’t understand what was happening. Why was her heart thundering and her stomach twisting into a tight knot of delicious awareness?
It had to be some sort of sorcery, right?
Okay, he was drop-dead gorgeous. His hair was dark and thick and glossy.
Like a swath of silk that rippled to brush his shoulders.
And sure, her fingers itched to run through the strands just to see if it was as soft as it looked.
Then there was his face. It was narrow, almost delicate, with the sort of features that were too perfect to be real.
They should have softened the impact of his raw male beauty, but instead they emphasized the hint of savagery. And his eyes...
They were astonishing. In the shadows they shimmered with a silvery mist. But as he realized that he couldn’t force his way through the barrier, they darkened to the deepest black, swirling like storm clouds.
Stalking along the shield, he kept his hand pressed against the magic, sparks dancing around his fingers. He moved like a dancer, all elegant grace and supple muscles that rippled beneath his silky black shirt and black slacks. A sleek predator on the hunt.
Wynn shivered. The male terrified her in a way she’d never experienced. And at the same time, she’d never been so mesmerized. As if something inside her understood that she’d been waiting for this moment all her life.