Chapter 12 #2
She didn’t need more prompting. They hustled down to the first floor.
He reached for the push bar on the door only to stop when Isa seized the back of his shirt and pressed against his back. “If we can get in without being spotted, head to your right. There should be a fire exit at the end of the hall by the restrooms. Don’t forget the cameras.”
He nodded and cracked the door open. The pounding swell of music rushed in.
Locke’s magic slipped through the opening, sniffing out the electric buzz indicating active surveillance.
With skillful ease, he separated the competing scents of bodies, alcohol, and noise and locked on to the telltale hum of security cameras.
His magic slid along the nerve-tingling scent and struck out, interrupting the digital feed so they wouldn’t be spotted.
He nudged Isa in front of him, opened the door just wide enough for her to squeeze through, then followed her into the flash of dizzying lights.
It took a second for his vision to adjust, but Isa had already grabbed his hand and started pulling him toward to the restrooms. He scanned the crowd and spotted one of the bouncers a few feet away, his back to them as he looked out over the crowded dance floor, one hand at his ear, clearly talking to someone.
Isa squeezed his hand hard in warning, and he saw another bouncer winding his way through the dancers, coming closer.
Locke thickened the air, pulling the shadows around him and Isa, blurring their images until they were just another couple out to make the most of the limited privacy offered by the restrooms. He crowded Isa’s back, blocking as much of her as he could from the bouncer’s attention, but even as they kept moving, he could feel the man watching them hustle down the hall.
He braced for the inevitable confrontation and was almost disappointed when it never materialized and the sense of being watched faded away.
Isa turned toward the women’s restroom, using Locke to block her as she looked behind them. “We’re clear.”
“Go,” he urged, nudging her farther down the hall, where the red glow of a fire exit taunted them.
They rushed forward, and Locke hastily etched a rune, using the residual magic in his signet ring, and disarmed the alarm, clearing the way.
Thank the gods for shitty security.
They pushed through the door and onto a narrow walkway at the back of the building.
Isa grabbed his hand and looked to the left then to the right. “Come on, this way.”
Figuring she knew where she was going, he followed even as he kept an eye on their back trail.
He was a little concerned about the apparent lack of security.
It seemed too easy to get out of a club that required secret code words, passing through illusions, and a mute, stone-faced bouncer to get in.
He would have thought they’d be a little more invested in keeping unwanted attention at bay.
Am I missing something?
Unease crept over him, but no one popped out of the door or around a corner to stop them.
They got to the end of the building, where a covered walkway led off to the left and into a lighted parking garage.
Two flights down an open stairwell later, they were back on the main side of the mall.
They skirted the outdoor lighting as much as possible as they made their way to his car.
Only when they were inside his Charger and turning out of the mall parking lot did some of the tension riding his ass ease up.
“Well, that was fun.”
“It was something.” Isa watched the side mirror, proving he wasn’t the only one who thought their escape was a little too easy.
He checked the rearview mirror. Darkness stared back. “If he puts a tail on us, we’ll be able to clock them on the freeway.”
“If that’s the way he decides to play it.” She toyed with the charm at her neck.
He considered how focused Angel had been on Isa, almost to the point of ignoring the threat Locke presented. Someone with that kind of obsessiveness didn’t like to lose. “Will he come after you?”
“Probably.”
That wasn’t reassuring. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel, and he fought back the possessive growl grumbling in his chest. “You’re staying with me tonight.”
“Um, no, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not,” she shot back. “I’ve been playing this game with Angel for years. I’ll be fine.”
“Ever brought another man into his territory?”
Frustration fairly hummed in her stubborn silence.
Figuring his point had been made, he continued. “Either you come home with me, or I follow you home. Pick one. Because if that dick is stupid enough to come after you, he’ll have to get through me.”
He could literally feel her rolling her eyes as she said with exaggerated patience, “It’s not like you can be with me twenty-four seven.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Oh, come on, Locke. We both have lives, jobs, responsibilities—”
“You get what I do, right?” he asked, unrelenting. This was too important. She was too important.
“You go after prey and bring them back to your master.” Her familiar derisive edge was back in full force.
He let her resentment of the Families roll off him because whatever her issues were, they would deal with them later. “I take care of threats before they become problems, and Angel is more than a problem.”
“You can’t go after him.”
He caught the worry underneath her statement. “Can’t I?”
Her lack of faith was easy to ignore, considering he knew his own strengths. Besides, one narcissistic asswipe would not be much of a challenge. Even if he was a magical leech.
“Oh my gods! Whatever. It’s your funeral.”
“Won’t be mine, babe.” He turned onto the exit to the freeway. “Now, your place or mine?”
She didn’t answer right away, but he waited her out. Finally, she gave in. “Yours, but you’d better have clean sheets for your bed.”
Content that she was coming back to his place, he drawled, “Why? You planning on sharing it with me?”
“Asshole,” she muttered, and he tried not to grin.
Over an hour later, Locke pulled his Charger into his garage and hit the button to bring the door down behind him.
Isa, asleep in the passenger seat, didn’t stir.
He released his seat belt and turned so he could study the woman next to him.
Events from the last two days had obviously caught up with her.
Ideally, whatever respite she found during the ride would help lighten the smudges under her eyes.
She shifted in her seat, and a lock of hair fell over her face. Her nose wrinkled, and her hand went to bat it away, but he was already there, drawing her hair back gently. As their hands met, her lashes rose, revealing a mesmerizing mix of green and gold that stared at him in sleepy confusion.
“Locke?”
“Hey, reinita, we’re home,” he said, matching her quiet tone. He trailed a finger along the side of her face and over her jaw.
She turned into his touch as awareness sparked deep in the drowsy gold, exposing a rare vulnerability normally hidden by mile-high walls. “Why reinita?”
Caught in his little queen’s spell, there was no room for games, only truth. “Because it fits.”
He wasn’t expecting the flash of insecurity that wiped away her last vestiges of sleep. It didn’t last long. Familiar emotional walls rose fast and hard even as she pulled back, lashes lowering as she started to fumble with her seat belt.
“What time is it?” she asked.
Going along with her ploy, he let her go. For now. “Just after two.”
Her seat belt zipped back, and she reached for the door. “I’m going to need to pick up my car from Wonderland by eight.”
Sighing, he got out and waited for her by the back door as she came around the hood. “Is there a curfew I need to know about?”
“What?” Isa played with the beaded bracelet on her wrist, her brow furrowed. “No, it’s just that parking enforcement does their rounds at eight, and I don’t need another parking ticket.”
He disarmed the security ward, opened the door, and waved her inside. “After you.”
He followed her into the laundry room, where the washer and dryer sat next to a deep sink on one side and a bench with cubbies on the other.
A couple of lightweight jackets hung on the hooks above.
She didn’t go far and instead stopped in the middle, the glow of the floor-level recessed lighting pooling at her feet.
He stepped around her and hit the main switch.
The soft lights blinked off, replaced by the brighter illumination of canned lights above.
“Welcome to my never-ending DIY project.”
“DIY project?” She peered out the door and down the shadowed hallway.
“Yeah.” He moved into the hall, hitting light switches as he went. “I’ve been working on rehabbing this place.”
“By yourself?” Her question was accompanied by the click of her bootheels on the wide planks.
“Except for where I need a second set of hands, yeah.”
“Huh.” She followed him into his most recently finished project, the kitchen. “Oh wow.”
She gazed at the deep-blue cabinets topped by gray-veined quartz that ran down the left side and jutted into a short breakfast bar. Under more canned lights, the upper white cabinets and stainless-steel appliances gleamed.
He tossed his keys on the pub-style table to their right and headed to the refrigerator. “Did you want something to drink? Water? Tea? Coke?”
“Water works,” she said as she ran a hand over the countertop. “This is beautiful, Locke.”
“Thanks.” He pulled a glass out of the cabinet. “Ice?”
“Please.” She moved through the kitchen and into the great room.
“Light switch is to the right. Just watch where you step.”