Chapter 2 #3
North had offered to get Seth out of Demon Row. That was more than she expected, honestly. He agreed to let her get her things. Though, it was probably to keep her content and happy so she was less likely to try and leave when his careful calm exploded into the sort of anger that hurt.
Her fingers endlessly wrapped around themselves. Twitching. Fidgeting.
She took another step away.
Could she free Seth on her own? With Cole’s threat on her head, it was unlikely she could get close to Seth without a quick escape plan.
Another shuffling step.
What the fuck was he doing in there?
Sera bit her lip. The urge to flee was overwhelming. Every muscle in her body wanted to bolt. Yet… something kept her from taking that leap. Her heart sped up as time passed and her chance at escape dwindled.
She couldn’t trust North. There was bound to be a catch to this arrangement. If she didn’t run, then she was putting her hope in believing the price for his kindness was tolerable or, even, escapable.
Too late. Sera’s muscles eased as North strode from the building, yet uncertainty continued to churn in her stomach. A lifetime of poor choices didn’t bode well for her instincts.
He dropped a bundle over her head, a coarse blanket unfolding over her face and shoulders. Static shocks rocketed through her scalp. Her hair would be a proper mess.
“Can we get this over with?” This time, North held the door for her, but it felt less like manners and more like hurry-the-fuck-up.
Sera ground her teeth as she stepped up into the carriage and sat, snuggling herself into a corner.
She had to tuck her legs and arrange her body just so to keep all of her covered.
She had left her coat in headquarters, but she was definitely not going to mention that now. Rachel would store it for her.
North informed his driver of the address she'd given him and then settled into the opposite corner of the carriage. He stared straight ahead, arms crossed, and face blank. He might have been bored or annoyed or ready to fall asleep.
Everything about him was carefully guarded.
She couldn’t detect patterns or tells in his mannerisms, only indifference and boredom.
There had been that moment in his bedchamber where she was sure he had reacted to her, had lusted for her at the very least, yet had remained stiff and cold to her advances.
He was either well-practiced in control or an emotionless shell of a person.
Figuring out what angles or tactics would work to deal with him would be challenging.
“How did you know?” she asked.
He didn’t so much as turn to acknowledge her. When he didn’t respond, she clarified, “Back at headquarters? You said Cole was trying to kill me? How did you know? I assume it’s one of those fae gifts.”
“It is.”
“Well. Are you going to explain it or is it meant to be a mystery?”
North took a deep breath. “It isn’t a mystery, my gift is well known. Though, Death Sense is rare even among Winter Fae.”
“So, you can sense when someone is about to die?”
“In a way. It’s more like I can see when a soul is marked by Death. Occasionally, that means I can intervene before it happens.”
“But not always?”
North was quiet for a moment. She could see his tongue working against his cheek, almost like he was searching for a response. “No. Not always. Death is inevitable for mortals. It always wins eventually. But there is the odd chance where my gift allows me to put it off a bit longer.”
Sera couldn’t describe the tone shift in his voice, only that she got the sense this was not a subject he enjoyed talking about.
Cole flaunted his gift. It was the reason Cole started working for Wraith.
Communing with the recently deceased for a few minutes was extremely useful to a crime boss.
But then, those souls had already passed on.
“Thank you, then. For saving me,” Sera offered.
His gaze slipped toward the window, farther away from her. “It’s my purpose in this life. My burden to carry.”
He paused and though his expression never changed, Sera sensed sadness so profound it made her heart clench. “But you are welcome,” he added, casting a look toward her. Was that sadness in his eyes? Or was she seeing more than what was there?
“More to the matter at hand, I’m curious how you became associated with Cole Hawthorne,” he said.
This time, when Sera faced him, she met a piercing, scrutinizing stare. His eyes were beautiful, soft and gray, but in the flashes of rising sunlight slanting through the windows she noted hints of pale blue and silver.
“I…” Should she lie? “I did a few jobs for Thaddeus Wraith—indirectly, of course. Not likely he’d converse directly with a no-one like me, but Hawthorne is one of his top dealers in the Fells.
Cole noticed me and he liked the way I looked.
” Truth, but with a hundred layers of omission.
“They always do,” she added in a whisper, but she didn’t doubt he heard her.
A small silence stretched between them and, when North spoke again, his voice was barely audible over the ambient noise of the carriage.
“Has he hurt you?”
“Why are you interested in my relationship with Cole? And why was it only after hearing his name you decided to drop the charges?” She avoided the question. Everyone hurt her eventually. Cole was no different.
North looked away from her, at the floor, and it was the closest Sera had come to reading a real emotion from him that wasn’t mild annoyance. It looked oddly like guilt. “He was a Winter Fae from a distinguished family at court. And I banished him.”
“He mentioned as much,” she said, but a smile slipped through. Cole hated his banishment and Sera was at the point in their relationship where Cole’s suffering amused her greatly.
“I’m sure,” Kieran acknowledged. “I fear that it was the wrong decision, if he’s going around trapping people into…” He cleared his throat and shifted. A first sign of real discomfort. “Into questionable arrangements.”
Sera sensed an angle. “You weren’t squeamish mentioning sex earlier.”
His eyes snapped on her, stealing the air from her lungs. “I am not squeamish about anything.”
She licked at the corner of her mouth and, sure enough, his eyes followed the motion. “You certainly danced around mentioning my ‘questionable arrangement’ with Cole. Which I’m sure you guessed involved sex—”
His icy stare turned arctic. “I am uncomfortable with the idea of my actions leading to the mistreatment of others. I’m a public servant. A leader. My role is to stop atrocities, not release them into society. A mistake I will not make again.”
Chills bloomed under her skin and it was not because of the cold or the blanket slipping down her shoulder. “What do you plan to do?”
“I have not decided.”
Sera swallowed as their eyes remained locked, but that shiver of fear shifted into something else, something far more familiar. Want began to ache between her thighs. She wanted him.
A dangerous development. It was the pattern all over again. Her body mistook his indecision about killing Cole as an act of possession, of defense on her behalf.
Gods, the debauched thoughts that began to flicker through her mind as he watched her with near innocence.
Was he innocent, though? She was indescribably curious to know if he’d ever caved to temptation.
Had that cold demeanor ever faltered? How would the beautiful lines of his face change if he came undone?
Succumbed to passion? Was he even cable of such an extreme?
If her situation weren’t so perilous, she would have enjoyed finding out.
Then his eyes told her all she needed to know. The sudden dilation in his pupils, the firm line of his jaw flexing, and rigid posture coiling to spring.
Fae had more refined senses than humans. Especially scent. Cole knew when she was turned on—a fact that made dealing with him precarious as their association grew strained. There was no doubt in her mind Kieran North could sense her arousal.
His stare shifted away, as if she were suddenly in a state of indecency.
A gentleman’s futile attempt to preserve her innocence when he knew full well she was no innocent.
His breathing was even, calm. She could practically hear the internal mantra to keep his hands to himself.
Fingers curled into tight fists on his thighs.
It was amusing at first but then, she’d never known a man to not attempt for a pass in these situations.
A closed carriage, alone? Her attraction clear and unmistakable?
This is where he seized the opportunity to get under her skirts.
Yet, he remained statuesque.
Sera forced aside the notion that North might be a decent person. She refused to be suckered, refused to let her guard down. Again. They were always nice in the beginning. Always asking permission and full of charm and respect. Until they weren’t.
Sera approached the situation with her only strength, according to dear old mother.
“You’re very controlled,” she murmured.
His gaze swept toward her.
“One might argue, a bit too tightly wound.” She let the blanket slip further down her arms. Arched her back so her breasts pressed the confines of her décolletage. Allowed her body’s natural reactions to him to build and excite.
Treading this line was dangerous. If she wasn’t careful, her attraction would get the best of her, but if she played it right, then she could use his against him.
“I don’t put much thought into the opinion of others.”
She grinned. This was too easy.
“Naturally,” she agreed. Rule one: always agree. “You’re better than the rest of us mere mortals. Superior.” She slipped one foot out from the blanket.
His look turned biting.
“I’m willing to bet,” she started and the slow arch of her leg tapped against his.