Chapter 13 #2
He marched straight to the chest that held the staff’s case, ready to be done with it. Even if the staff might be the only way to kill Gareth, it wasn’t worth it.
“Don’t you dare walk away from me!” she shouted after him as he secured the staff and buried it deep within the chest. “Explain what you meant back there.”
Maverick avoided her gaze as he pivoted toward the rack of weights with every intention of distracting his mind from the reeling memories he didn’t want to repeat. Perhaps he could banish the memories by working out.
The cool steel of the weights was a welcome reprieve from the heat that boiled under his skin, but his shoulders grew taut when she neared. “Drop it, Zera. It’s not important.”
Zera flew in front of him, blocking him from the weights. Her eyes flashed with anger. “It clearly is important if it’s got you this upset.”
Maverick scowled. “You’re the one accusing me of not caring about you or your child. That I’m just some Lunar Brotherhood wolf. A killer. That’s what you think of me, isn’t it?”
She shut her mouth, and he pressed on. “It doesn’t matter that, like you, I left everything behind me. I left to be a better person than my ancestors. This is me living up to that promise I made to myself all those years ago. Why or how I left has nothing to do with you.”
“And what about the Whisper’s staff? Does that have anything to do with me or my kind?” She folded her arms across her chest, her lavender eyes dimming.
He swallowed the lump in his throat. “It’s ancient history, and like I said, it doesn’t matter.”
“And what about how we’re connected? Our bond? Why are you avoiding this?”
Because she was right. He desperately wanted there to be a chance between them, but he knew that wasn’t possible.
The idea of confirming that terrified him.
It made him feel too… exposed. He couldn’t let his guard down, not when Gareth was still out there hunting them.
Especially not with her. If he was truly being honest, he feared that if he truly let her in, let himself feel anything for her, that she’d used it against him.
Just like they all did. He couldn’t afford to believe she might be different.
He didn’t have anyone else, like she did with her son, her half sister, and even her half sister’s wife.
At the end of the day, she had a family worth fighting for.
If he didn’t protect himself—his life—he’d have nothing left.
Maverick took a step back. “Zera, you have to understand that my life is dangerous. This bond you think is between us, if there is one, it complicates things even more. I can’t let myself open up to you because it puts everyone in danger.”
She seethed up at him. “Coward.” She spun on her heel and stormed up the staircase to the bedroom above. The door slammed with a finality.
He raked a hand through his hair, frustration and anger coursing through him. He was about to follow her when a sudden knock at the penthouse door stopped him. It was probably for the best that they kept some space between them.
With a deep breath, Maverick checked the monitor next to the elevator door.
Quill stood in the center of the small elevator and glanced up at the camera.
Maverick pressed the button to open the door, and Quill waltzed in with a casual air about him.
The forger’s hands were shoved in the pockets of his jean jacket, his blond curls loose.
But there was something off about him, an urgent energy that lingered in his otherwise nonchalant features.
“Quill.” Maverick greeted him, trying to conceal the turmoil inside him. “I’m surprised to see you. What’re you doing here?”
“Come to collect you for that bounty,” Quill said with a teasing chuckle when Maverick glared at him. “Always so serious, aren’t you?”
“And you’re not funny, as usual.” Maverick smirked, ushering him inside. “I didn’t order any new documents.”
“No, you didn’t,” he agreed, resting his elbows on the kitchen island and then frowning at the makeshift gym that now took over the living room. “Are you hosting a Fight Club and didn’t tell me?”
“Every Wednesday night.” Maverick rolled his eyes. “Come on, enough of your demon theatrics. Just get on with it. What do you want?”
Quill’s eyes glimmered violet. “Oh, well, word on the street is you’re looking for Gareth, and I’ve got some news on that front.”
Maverick’s interest piqued at the mention of Gareth. He leaned against the counter, studying Quill’s face for any sign of deception. “What kind of news?”
“The kind that may help you get his attention,” the demon replied with a sly smile.
“How?”
“By jeopardizing his deal that’s going down tonight.” Quill snapped his fingers, and a bluish little baggy materialized in his hands. “I snatched this off a mouthy little siren in my bar. She claims it’s pure pixie dust and that there’s more where that came from.”
Maverick took it, examining its contents. “Not laced with anything?”
“Apparently not,” he said with a shrug. “And tonight, Gareth plans on securing the hottest nightclub in the city as a distribution channel. Rumor has it he already has the Crystal and dozens of other locations. The nightclub is his final foothold, though I’m told it’s just a formality.
The owner’s probably the true brains of the operation anyway. ”
But Maverick stopped listening as his mind raced with this new information.
If it was true, then Quill already had a source for his pixies and Zera was just an afterthought.
Icing on the cake, perhaps. That, or Gareth was bluffing and his drug was actually laced with other, more common elements to buy him time until he found her.
But even if Gareth tapped her dry, she wouldn’t have enough to satisfy the demand for such a high-quality product.
The sheer number of pixies it would take Gareth to make a product that was one hundred percent pure pixie dust would put pixies into extinction.
The death toll would be catastrophic, and Maverick couldn’t let that happen.
“Which nightclub?” Maverick asked through gritted teeth. It was a risky move, especially with the bounty on their heads, but if he could disrupt Gareth’s drug deal, it would undoubtedly draw the arms dealer out into the open and finally put an end to him.
“It’s called the Inferno Lounge. Have you heard of it?”
Quill chuckled when Maverick growled. Everyone had heard of that nightclub by now.
It was one of the many establishments owned by that bloody incubus Kraven, who seemed to be popping up everywhere with his bloody mind control.
Maverick didn’t need to look up the address; he knew where it was all too well.
He’d taken a couple of odd jobs from a few clients there, but the whole place reeked of dark energy, and now that he knew who owned it, he understood why.
It was the devil’s den, and in order to rustle Gareth’s feathers, he would have to go right smack-dab into the middle of it.
Maverick’s heart pulsed with hope. It was the first potential lead on Gareth since the gala, and Quill was here delivering it on a silver platter?
What was the catch? He eyed the baggie, wary of Quill’s ulterior motives.
Old friend or not, the demon had a reputation for being unpredictable, and Maverick couldn’t afford any more surprises.
“What do you want in return for this information?”
“Consider it a favor.” Quill straightened as he prepared to leave but not before tossing two new IDs on the counter. “For your cover tonight. You’ll need to glamour yourselves to avoid that pesky bounty Gareth has on you.”
Maverick shook his head. “This is too much. I already owe you for the car.”
“Keep it. I already have a replacement.” Quill paused at the door to the elevator in thought before tossing over his shoulder, “But I wouldn’t turn down a photo of you chained to that pixie bride of yours in Kraven’s nightclub.”
“Excuse me?” Maverick’s eyebrows shot up.
“Oh, did I not mention that it’s dominatrix night at the Inferno?” Quill feigned a look of innocence, but Maverick had a feeling he knew exactly what information he’d divulged. “No men are allowed to enter without an escort, so you’d better bring Charlotte.”
Maverick stared at the forger’s back as he left, the thought of asking Zera to such an event causing a jumble of conflicting emotions inside him.
Even if they weren’t on fighting terms, the thought of Zera in nothing but strips of leather and weapons…
A shiver of desire ran down his spine. This wasn’t even his kink, and yet the sheer mental image of her going into that club sent a surge of heat through his veins.
Zera would never agree to it, though, especially in her current state of frustration with him. But maybe she would if it meant getting closer to Gareth and saving the lives of countless pixies.
He stood at the bottom of the staircase, his hand gripping the polished wooden railing.
His eyes flicked up to the darkened hallway leading to the primary bedroom, and he hesitated.
He knew he had to try, and it would probably mean opening up about everything.
Even the parts he wanted to bury deep inside him.
But he needed her, and they were now out of time.
“Here goes nothing,” he muttered under his breath, mentally preparing himself for what lay ahead as he took a step forward.
He prayed to the faen gods that it wouldn’t lead to two steps back.