Dark Desire (5 page)

The pimp turned towards Galen. “Tell him to let her go, or he gets a bullet through the head,” he warned, thumbing off the safety on the side of the gun.

Rhys finally looked up, and Loki saw his eyes glowing a soft yellow. When his top lip peeled off his teeth in a fierce scowl, Glide took an unsteady step back, his hand shaking slightly.

“Last warning, asshole,” he said, his voice unsteady.

Rhys didn’t stop, forcing Galen to step forward. His actions were a blur. Within seconds, he had broken the pimp’s neck with a resounding crack. The woman, who had not taken her eyes off her supposed savior, began screaming when the human’s body hit the ground.

Her hoarse howls rent the air, guaranteeing someone would surely come to investigate. Hauling the pimp’s body over his shoulder, Galen barked, “Finish,” to Rhys and slipped off into the darkness, the man’s limp arms dangling near the small of his back.

The woman whimpered as she watched him leave, knowing she would not be released from Rhys’s savagery. She looked as if all the fight had gone out of her, her slight body sagging in his arms.

By the time Galen had returned, Rhys was throwing his head back and roaring his release. His whole body shuddered, and he was completely unaware that the woman had lost consciousness.

Rhys blinked rapidly, clearly returning to his senses, and he blanched—his grip loosening. Before the woman’s body could fall, Galen took up the slack. With gritted teeth, he told Rhys to go home.

Rhys looked at the female, something akin to regret in his eyes. “What about—”

“I’ll take care of it.”

Rhys’s gaze hardened and, with a snarl, he faded away from the park, leaving Galen alone with the unconscious woman. Lowering her to the ground, Galen dug a hand into his pocket and withdrew a phone. After hitting a few numbers, he held the device to his ear.

“Yeah, there’s an unconscious woman at the north-east corner of Humboldt Park, near the kids’ play equipment.”

Loki could hear the voice of the emergency dispatcher on the other end of the line trying to get more information from him, but Galen ended the call and shoved his phone back into his pocket. He pulled out a wad of cash from another pocket and shoved it inside the top of her dress.

Before turning to leave, Galen paused and knelt beside the woman. “You were right. You were worth
every
penny.”

Taer found herself having the same dream she’d had so many times before. And it appeared to be the same as it always was, except as she listened to the final rasping breaths of her brother, a dark, maniacal laugh echoed through the room, congealing the blood in her veins.

She wasn’t alone.

The air shifted around her suddenly, the sound of footsteps coming closer, punctuating the otherwise near silence. Squeezing her eyes shut, Taer waited for them to disappear; she willed them away. This was her dream, after all. The closer they got to her, the more her body was wracked by shivers.

“Open your eyes.” The dark voice dripped with malice.

Taer woke with a gasp and sat up rigidly in the bed, unable to shake the echoes of that voice from her ears. Her heartbeat was so loud it was drowning out her harsh, labored breathing. Like before, her chest was tight—so damn tight that it felt as if something heavy was lying across it.

Like dead weight.

Like your brother’s dead body.

She swallowed down on her dry throat, wincing at the way the scarred skin stretched with the movement. Her hand clutched at the base of her throat, her fingers rubbing against the raised tissue.

Her eyes slid to the other side of the room. Eir was still asleep, her back turned towards her. The blanket thrown over her body was rising and falling, and Taer let out a relieved breath. The last thing she wanted to do was wake the Valkyrie up. She’d practically worked a twenty-four-hour shift at the hospital the day before.

Throwing the blankets from her body, Taer swung her legs around and off the bed, letting her toes curl into the carpet. She sat there for a few moments, letting her racing heart slow down before getting up. She tugged at the bottom of her oversized tee to straighten it and opened the door quietly.

She padded out into the living room and curled up on the couch with her legs drawn to her chest. Resting her chin on the top of her knees, Taer stared at nothing in particular on the floor.

She liked how quiet and dark this apartment was. At their house, before it had been burned down by Darrion, there was always some sort of noise or light. She’d always wake up in the middle of the night after a dog barked or a siren wailed up the street. She had felt safe there, but she supposed that was because her brother and Korvain were there. Now it was just her and Korvain, and her heart ached. She missed Adrian so much.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Taer was jolted from her thoughts by the whispered voice, her legs stretching out, her body prepared for a fight.

Eir was leaning against the wall, her pajamas rumpled and her hair disheveled.

Taer shook her head. “Sorry,” she muttered, looking away. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t.”

Taer looked back at the Valkyrie. Eir shrugged, looking down at her hands, flexing them into delicate fists before releasing them. “My palms are still bothering me a little.”

Taer stared at the goddess. Everything about her was gentle—from the way she spoke to the way she acted so selflessly, but Taer had learned early on that weakness and compassion would get you killed.

“Do you mind?” Eir asked, indicating to the other side of the couch. Taer shrugged, self-consciously pulling at the top of her shirt as she watched Eir sit down. The Valkyrie let out a heavy sigh and rested her head back against the couch cushion. Taer watched her eyelids flutter shut and could sense the burden that weighed on her shoulders.

Eir had lost her twin sister at the same time that Taer had lost Adrian, yet Eir seemed so much more … put together than she did. Taer was running on the desire for revenge, whereas Eir was still willing to help people, to go to the hospital and share her gift of healing.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Taer murmured faintly, causing Eir’s eyes to open suddenly. After seeing Eir’s puzzled expression, Taer added, “How you can still want to give to people—to the humans—when your twin sister was taken from you?”

Eir blinked at her and shrugged. “Everyone deals with grief in a different way.”

Taer brought one leg beneath her body and turned towards Eir.

“I’m not pretending she hasn’t died,” the Valkyrie said, studying Taer’s face. “A part of me died with my sister, but I can’t let that feeling swamp me, because if I do …” Eir stopped, her words drifting off.

“If you do, you feel like you’ll never find your way back to the light again?” Taer asked, staring down at her hands in her lap. She was there … lost in the darkness.

“Yes,” Eir replied almost inaudibly. “Just like that. I never want to forget Kristy, but sometimes when I think about her for too long, I feel as if I’m falling down into a black pit of despair, and no matter how hard I fight, I fear that I’ll never really be able to pull myself free again.”

Taer shuddered, knowing exactly how that felt. She’d found herself in a dark place after Korvain told her what had happened to her brother. When she was alone with her thoughts, she found herself dwelling on the actions that had led to Adrian’s death. Maybe if she had faded straight away to remove herself from the situation when Adrian had told her to, none of this would have ever happened. But she’d taken a step towards Darrion to move around him, and he’d grabbed her arm, making her unable to fade.

Adrian had only been trying to protect her.

The rage she had seen in his green eyes had scared her, but not as much as being pinned to Darrion’s chest had scared her. She’d felt sick, trapped there, knowing he could do whatever he wanted to her. Taer’s hand wrapped around her throat again in an attempt to shield herself from the memories.

“I think I’ll try and get some sleep,” Taer lied, her words drawing Eir’s blue eyes to her face. She began to get up, but Eir’s warm fingers wrapped gently around her forearm, stopping her.

“You know you can talk to me about Adrian.”

Taer shrugged. “There’s nothing to say,” she said, her voice hard and unyielding.

“Taer.” Eir’s tone was softly chiding.

“I’m fine!” Taer replied, turning away, her hands curling into tight fists.

“I’m just worried about you—Korvain is too. We just want you to be all right.”

Without turning around, Taer uttered the most untruthful words she’d ever said in her life. “I am all right.”

Before Eir could respond, Taer retreated back to the bedroom, put on some jeans, a high-collared jacket and her boots, then headed for the door of the apartment, sliding her Beretta into the waistband of her pants as she moved. Once she was outside, she leaned back against the door and squeezed the bridge of her nose, letting out a sigh. There was no way she was going to be getting any more sleep tonight, so she might as well do something useful.

Taer breathed in the chilly night air and began walking. Her thoughts immediately turned to Darrion. Talking to Nieven had been a dead end, just like she knew it would be, and although putting a bullet between his eyes had made her feel better—like she was twisting the knife into Darrion’s carefully constructed guild—she was still without any solid leads.

Darrion was a narcissistic, tyrannical megalomaniac.

But he wouldn’t have been able to walk away from his guild so easily, which meant that he had to be close to Boston, at least.

Taer wrapped her arms around herself but kept her senses open. She was heading towards a bar where a lot of beings from the Nine Worlds spent their time. She needed information, and after getting nothing of worth from that cocksucker Nieven, she couldn’t think of any other place to go.

The War Hammer was run by a dwarf named Alistyre. From the outside, it was very much like Odin’s Eye—it simply didn’t look like much—but unlike Odin’s Eye, it wasn’t frequented by humans. The dwarves had a kind of magic that hid it from them in plain sight.

After stepping through the haze of magic, Taer pushed through the door. Despite the early hour, the place was packed. Every single set of eyes turned to her, looking at her dubiously. Raising her chin and pulling her shoulders back, Taer walked confidently towards the bar.

A Mare she’d never seen before stepped in front of her, bringing her to an abrupt stop. “Hey, honey,” he drawled, his accent giving him away. He wasn’t from around here. Darrion had been gone a little over a month and already the vultures were swooping in.

“Get out of my way.” Taer’s lips curled away from her teeth as she spoke, baring her fangs to him.

The guy just grinned lazily at her, revealing his own—rather less than impressive—fangs.

“Oh, come on, baby. Don’t be like that. I’ll be real good to you.” His hands got a little too familiar then, grabbing her ass and pulling her into the cradle of his hips. It took Taer a few beats to realize that the bastard thought she was a whore.

Taer’s mouth turned to a playful pout. “You caught me out,” she purred, reaching behind her, her fingers grazing the butt of her Beretta. The familiar ripple of the black grip against her fingertips made her smile even more brightly. “But you haven’t caught my friend out.”

“Friend?” he asked, looking behind her expectantly for another woman. Taer pulled her weapon out and pressed the barrel to the center of his chest.

She shrugged innocently. “My friend.”

All hell broke loose around her. There were yells and orders that she drop the gun, shouts that there was a strict policy in the War Hammer that no one carry a weapon. Ignoring them all, Taer pressed the muzzle in tighter, moving the asshole backwards as she moved towards the bar.

Only when she was standing in front of the dwarf bartender did Taer remove the gun from the man’s chest and place it on the bar top. The bartender grabbed for the weapon immediately, staring at Taer like she had actually pulled the trigger. She could only assume he was Alistyre.

The elf slid out from between Taer and the bar, slinking away with a figurative tail between his legs. Taer watched him go in the mirrored wall behind the bar. Only once everyone had gone back to their drinks did she look back at Alistyre.

The dwarf was just as Taer expected him to be—short, slightly round and generally cantankerous from what she’d seen so far. He leveled a glare at her, his flint-colored eyes hard. His rusty beard hung shaggily from his face, tangled and dirty, and the faint odor of earth and stone clung to his clothes.

Ignoring his irate look, Taer got straight down to business. “I need information.”

The dwarf laughed, the sound like two boulders rubbing together. “What makes you think I’d give you information now that you’ve come in and terrorized my customers?” He was trying to intimidate her, but he had nothing on Korvain when it came to intimidation.

“I’m looking for a Mare,” she pressed on. “And I need to know whether you’ve seen him, or heard anything about him.”

The dwarf laughed again—louder this time—the sound booming around the bar. Taer noticed a few eyes rise at the noise. She’d figured this would be the fastest way to get her information, but if Alistyre didn’t start talking soon, she’d have to go to Plan B. Taer looked around, getting more and more agitated.

“Who are you looking for?”

Taer turned towards the voice, her eyes scanning the face of the light elf who had approached her. His eyes were a gray so pale they were almost white and his hair was much the same. Just with one look, she knew he was from very pure blood. But what would a light elf know about Darrion?

She ignored him, turning her attention back to Alistyre.

“Who are you looking for?” the elf repeated.

Taer looked at him from the corner of her eye. What did she have to lose? She’d gotten nowhere so far. “The master of the Boston guild,” she answered, lowering her voice.

His expression changed, his eyes darkening slightly. Abruptly, he took her by the elbow and dragged her towards the back of the dim bar. Taer fought the urge to break free of his grasp, letting him lead her to a booth surrounded on three sides by high partitions.

The light elf folded his tall, lithe frame down into the other side of the booth. “Sit,” he said, his tone hard and unyielding. He had high cheekbones, a long straight nose and a jaw that seemed a stranger to a razor. He was the epitome of male beauty, but the air of danger about him told Taer he was more than just a pretty boy. “Who are you, Little Girl?” he demanded.

She stared defiantly and remained silent. She had no idea whether she could trust this guy. She wasn’t about to spill all her secrets to him, even if he was one of the handsomest males she had ever laid eyes on.

His top lip twitched. “Little Girl it is then.”

Dick.

Taer gritted her teeth, staring at him from under her dark lashes.

Sinking back in his chair, the elf rested his forearms on the table and let out a deep breath. Taer caught his scent, the aroma of spicy cinnamon getting tangled in her nostrils.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked.

Taer shook her head. “No idea.”

“My name is Aubrey.”

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” Taer retorted bitingly.

He chuckled at her outburst. She glowered back at him, balling her hands into fists.

“Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that this Boston guild master is someone I’m familiar with. Why would I give you anything?”

“
Why?
” she replied sharply. Aubrey arched one pale brow at her. “He owes me money,” she lied. Taer waited for him to call bullshit, but he said nothing. “I always collect on my debts.”

His lips lifted in a pleasantly bland smile. “He must owe you a great deal.”

You got that fucking right.

Taer looked at the scarred tabletop so he wouldn’t see the rage and pain simmering within her. He wouldn’t answer her question, so she wouldn’t answer his. They were at an impasse. She met his eyes once more, hoping all he could see now was her determination.

His finger began tapping the table, rhythmically drumming out a steady pattern. “Where can I find you if I hear anything about this … Mare?” Although it didn’t show on his face, there was definitely amusement in his voice.

Taer didn’t know how to respond. She could lie, but what would be the point of that? She was well protected at the Eye. Nobody could fade in or out of the building. “Odin’s Eye,” she replied.