Chapter 9 Zera #2
She stomped down hard on the snake shifter’s foot, twisting her body to the side, and sliced the dagger across his arm. A sharp cry of pain echoed in the small boutique as the attacker’s grip loosened, and he released Zera, stumbling backward.
“You stupid pixie,” the snake shifter hissed. His forked tongue jetted out and licked his wound. The ooze subsided, and he raced for her.
She backed away as fast as possible, but he was too quick, and that stupid dress kept getting in her way. She needed pants.
“Move, pixie!” the snake shifter said with a hiss, shoving her against the door.
Behind her, Maverick roared, “Get your filthy hands off her!”
His voice was laced with a primal rage that sent shivers down Zera’s spine.
He made quick work of the remaining bounty hunter fae, his sudden determination and muscular form overpowering them with ease.
The intensity in his stormy eyes never wavered from the snake shifter who had held her moments before.
As he dispatched the last fae, Maverick’s gaze locked on Zera and the snake shifter. The air around them crackled with tension, and she knew he was coming for her. His determination to protect her was evident in every move he made.
In a swift motion, Maverick closed the distance between them, grabbed the snake shifter by the collar, and threw him against the wall with a resounding thud.
The impact left the attacker dazed and struggling to regain his footing.
Maverick slammed his fist against the snake’s jaw, and the bone cracked under impact.
“Stay down and don’t move if you want to live,” Maverick snarled, his words dripping with menace. He towered over the snake shifter, asserting his dominance.
A wave of gratitude washed over Zera, who still clutched the dagger that now dripped with black snake blood. Despite the pack Maverick had been born into, he’d saved her. Again. That had to mean something.
“Are you okay?” Maverick asked, turning his attention back to Zera. His expression softened, concern etched across his handsome features.
She nodded shakily, feeling her heart race as she met his gaze. “I am now.”
He smirked. “See? You didn’t need to be trained to use that dagger. You’re a natural.”
She gave him a wry grin, but despite her nerves that ran on overdrive, she was pretty proud of herself for taking that guy down. The rush of adrenaline was exhilarating, and she felt a new sense of confidence within her.
“Well,” Felice said, pulling their attention to where she tossed glowing red cuffs on the wrists of the other attackers, who lay either unconscious or dead—Zera couldn’t tell which—in the middle of her destroyed boutique. “At least I won’t have to go hunting for dinner.”
Felice smirked, and Zera’s eyes widened. She didn’t want to know what the boutique owner meant by that.
“What about him?” Zera asked, nodding toward the snake shifter, who groaned but failed to rise.
Maverick looked at the fallen shifter, his eyes narrowing. “He won’t be going anywhere.”
Felice tossed Maverick a set of cuffs, and he swiftly secured the snake shifter’s hands behind his back. The shifter hissed in pain and glared at them.
“Why don’t you just kill me like the others?” he snarled.
“Oh, we will,” Maverick growled. “But first, we need you to give us some information.”
With a nod from Felice, they led him down a dimly lit corridor behind the checkout counter to her office, where a small-but-sturdy cell awaited.
“Get in,” Maverick ordered, his voice cold and unwavering. The snake shifter hesitated for a moment before complying, slithering into the cell with a snarl.
“Feel free to keep him here alive for the night,” Felice said as she locked the door behind him. “But anyone here tomorrow will be my breakfast.”
She waltzed over to her desk, as if that was a completely ordinary request, and busied herself with paperwork, well out of earshot.
“I thought sirens only ate fish and other aquatic things, not fae,” Zera said, suddenly uneasy about being here.
“Her husband is a wendigo,” he said with a shrug. “He doesn’t get out much.”
Zera shuddered, not wanting to know how a siren and a wendigo ended up together.
“Who sent you?” Maverick asked the snake shifter.
His forked tongue jetted out, and he flashed them a jagged-tooth smile but made no attempt to respond.
Maverick banged his fist on the bars, shaking the cell. “I’d suggest you start talking because, as you heard, you have a limited amount of time left. Does Quill know you’re here?”
The snake shifter’s eyes flickered black, and Zera got the sense he was trying to conjure his way out of there.
Maverick raised a brow, folding his arms across his muscled chest. “Stop stalling, or I’ll deliver you to the wendigo myself.”
“All right, I’ll talk,” he hissed, desperation laced in his voice. Death by wendigo didn’t sound like a fun way to go.
“Good choice.” Maverick narrowed his eyes. “Who sent you?”
“No one,” the snake spat. “I wanted to make a name for myself and take a shot at the bounty on your head.”
“And did Quill tell you where we were?” Maverick prodded.
The snake shook his head. “He barely comes out of his lair to pay us.”
Zera let out a puff of air. At least that meant her identity and their faestones hadn’t been compromised.
“Then how’d you track us?” Zera asked, unable to shake the feeling that something was off.
“Your scent,” he hissed, twining his forklike tongue around his lips. “It led me here.”
The way the snake’s narrowed pupils zeroed in on her, like she was a rat to eat, sent a chill down her spine.
“Don’t even dare to look at her,” Maverick growled. “Or you’ll find your eyes gouged out. Now, tell us something useful.”
The snake let out a hiss, clearly not enjoying the threat, but his shoulders slumped in defeat.
“Fine. After the alert for the bounty on your heads, I got a tip from a buddy of mine who used to run with Gareth’s crowd.
Said he knew who put the bounty on your heads and would double the bounty if I brought her to the gala for the underground fae. ”
Zera’s pixie ears perked up in interest, but she quickly let her magic round them back out to maintain her disguise despite her pixie nature already being discovered. She might as well practice her control. She had a feeling she was going to need it a lot in the coming days.
“Is that right?” Maverick asked, a hint of skepticism in his tone.
“Swear on my scales,” the snake shifter insisted. “And I can get you in. Just promise me my freedom.”
Zera and Maverick exchanged a glance as they weighed the pros and cons of trusting their attacker.
“That’s not up to me to decide.” Maverick nodded toward Felice, who was now hanging custom blouses on a rack to roll out into the boutique.
A security screen behind her revealed the entire shop had been restored to its previous state.
“I can hold him here until you two can verify his information at the gala,” she called, not looking up from her work. “If he’s telling the truth, I’ll let him live. If not, well…” Her voice trailed off, leaving the consequences understood.
“Deal,” Maverick agreed, looking back at the snake shifter with a steely gaze. The tension between them was palpable, but for now, they had a common goal.
“Deal,” Zera echoed, her thoughts racing with the prospect of attending the gala and getting closer to taking down Gareth and this mysterious “sugarfae,” as Quill had called them.
Despite the fear and uncertainty that lingered in her heart, she knew that together with Maverick, they stood a fighting chance. And maybe they’d find something more along the way.
Zera and Maverick returned to his penthouse, the weight of their mission heavy on their minds. Zera glanced around the luxurious space, lost in thought as she considered their next move. They needed to draw out Gareth at the gala that night, but there was one pressing issue.
“What is it?” Maverick asked, as if sensing her unease.
She sighed. “It’s silly, really.”
“Tell me,” he said as they made their way to the living room. The expanse of the city skyline could be seen through the wall of windows that lined one side of the room.
He stood much too close, his scent enveloping her senses, taking her back to their heated moment in the dressing room. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment as she tried to focus.
“It’s… my dress.” She flushed, feeling foolish for even bringing it up as she looked down at the tear in the slit of her dress. “It must’ve gotten ruined during the attack, so I don’t have anything appropriate to wear, and I definitely didn’t pack formal wear.”
Maverick didn’t move an inch, but his presence was still overwhelming. He raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing at the edges of his lips.
“Is that all?” He chuckled softly. “Well then, it’s a good thing Felice had some clothes delivered to the room upstairs. I’m sure you’ll find something suitable there.”
His nearness reminded her of how close they’d come to crossing a line. Maverick seemed to sense her thoughts, and he hesitated, waiting just within reach. It was as if he was seeking her permission to finish what they’d started.
She took a shaky step back. “Thank you, Maverick. I’ll go take a look.”
As Zera climbed the stairs to her temporary room, she felt a magnetic pull toward Maverick even as she tried to resist it.
Her resolve, however, remained steadfast. This was not the time to let emotions cloud her judgment.
They had a dangerous adversary to face, and they needed to keep their heads in the game.
Entering the room, Zera found a few garment bags laid out on the giant king-sized bed.
Her jaw dropped. Not only did she have a gown that wasn’t ripped, but she had options.
She’d never dreamed of ever wearing anything as fine as the gown she had on, let alone having her choice of multiple gowns. How much did all of it cost?
Something told her that she didn’t want to know.