Wicked Edge Page 2

  He moved then, enjoying her sharp intake of breath, lifting her against the wall and forcing her legs around his hips. Her thighs tightened at his waist with impressive strength, and he pushed against her, seeking any sort of relief. Her core, hot as hell, caressed him through his jeans.

  The elevator door opened, and he clamped his hands on her ass to keep her in place down the hallway and while he kicked open the door to his penthouse. Not wanting to wait another second, he took her lips, kissing her hard and taking her deep. A growl rose within him, a testament to his species, and he didn’t care.

  He kissed her long and hard until neither one of them could breathe, and then, only then, did he lift his head.

  A flush covered her face, and desire danced across her skin, the intensity of it palpable. Slowly, her chest moving as she panted, her legs released him, and she slid down his body. “You’re something, Daire Dunn,” she murmured, her hands going to her jacket.

  He breathed in her scent, feeling it seep under his skin. “Take off your clothes.” They might as well get the parameters of the night straight now.

  She smiled, a siren’s dare, and reached for her lapels. “I do like how you kiss.”

  “Do as I say, and you’ll get kissed again.”

  She gave a half nod. Regret twisted her lip.

  He stiffened instinctively.

  The tiniest flash of silver. She dodged forward, much faster than he would’ve thought, and stuck a needle in his arm, plunging instantly.

  He roared and flew back, striking out. His knuckles impacted her chin, and she crashed toward the wall. Sizzling sparks shot through his veins. Gray covered his vision, and as hard as he tried to remain standing, gravity won. The last, bizarre thought he had before his face hit the cold marble floor was a hope that he hadn’t hurt her.

  The world fuzzed. He lay on the ground, fighting to move, urging his brain to kick back alive. Sounds morphed in and out as he lay not feeling anything. Sounds, muffled and unclear, echoed back from other rooms.

  Finally, spiked heels crossed his vision.

  Cee Cee leaned down and brushed his forehead with soft lips. “I’m sorry.”

  The touch awoke something in him, and his hand unfisted. He growled low, and she jumped back.

  “You’ll be okay by tomorrow,” she whispered, turning on one of those deadly heels and leaving the apartment.

  “This . . . isn’t . . . over,” he ground out. Then blackness covered his vision, and he passed out.

  Chapter 2

  The Seattle wind fought against Cee Cee as she rode along the nearly empty streets, passing silent storefront windows, each a reproachful mirror. Her reflection glimmered back at her, block by block, showing an unthinkable image of a wild and free woman. Something she’d never been.

  Stealing the enforcer’s bike was probably a bad idea, but the Harley was a lot faster than the rental car she’d had stashed around the corner. Though she hadn’t lied to Daire about her lack of experience riding motorcycles, she might have left a few things out, such as her ability to figure out quickly how to drive the massive beast.

  Daire Dunne. Sure, through the years, she’d heard stories about the deadly witch enforcer. But nobody had warned her about his kiss. Dark and dangerous, and for the smallest of moments, she’d forgotten her purpose.

  A man like Daire could make her forget everything.

  The green of his eyes hinted at the roaming hills of Ireland, a place she’d never visited. Roped muscles had made up his wide shoulders and masculine torso and had tempted her to play. With his jet black hair and fiercely cut features, a wildness had careened off him, one he apparently tamed daily by keeping a strictly organized environment. What would it take to make him lose such rigid control?

  Everything in her, all feminine and real, had wanted to jump into his fire.

  Yet she’d drugged him instead. She shivered. There’d be hell to pay, and hopefully she’d be the only one to pay it. But repercussions were for another day.

  She’d kissed him. He’d kissed her. The thought was almost unthinkable. She’d once had a mate, and in the immortal world, mating was forever, even past death. If a mated being touched another, or was touched by anybody other than the mate, a terrible, life-threatening allergy normally occurred. Until a virus had been unleashed that ultimately broke the mating bond.

  The cure, a mutation of the virus, had worked on her. Unbelievable. She’d lost her mate eons ago and had resigned herself to being alone for eternity. Yet now, after allowing the vampire queen to infect her with the mutation, Cee Cee could touch and be touched. Damn, she wished she could’ve stayed and touched every inch of Daire Dunne before turning him into her enemy.

  If he was as meticulous in fighting his enemy as he was with organizing his apartment and business files, she was in deep trouble. What kind of wild male witch kept such a rigid control on his environment, anyway?

  Right now, she was driving a Harley for the first time in her life. Rushing through the city to Seattle’s underbelly was an undeniable pleasure. Nice apartments sped by, and soon enough small houses with peeling paint and brown yards lined the street. Finally, when she arrived at the seedy motel on the outskirts of the rough end of town, she cut the engine and disembarked with genuine regret.

  Puddles littered the broken concrete where three older vehicles had parked. A porch light flickered in the middle of the building; otherwise, the motel was dark. Not even an old television droned into the silence. Any strangers paying to stay in the dump had given up life for the night to sleep, while her men had better be awake.

  A vampire, a young one, ran out of room thirteen. “Mission successful?”

  “Yes.” She tossed him the keys. “Return the bike to a secured parking area and call Dunne with the location. Far away from here.” She paused and slid the backpack of perfectly organized papers off her shoulders. “Were the surveillance videos confiscated?”

  The kid nodded, not meeting her eyes. She had a team of four soldiers, Jon, Jay, Sal, and Simon, and none of them ever met her gaze. Darn vampires.

  Jon cleared his throat. “We got all videos from Dunne’s building and the surrounding areas, so you won’t be identified. Also, we confiscated two new videos of Apollo victims, ah, ma’am.”

  She stiffened. Her chin went up. “Did you just call me ma’am?”

  He blushed so hard and fast, her own cheeks hurt. “Sorry, ah, Cee Cee.” Without meeting her eyes, he jumped on the bike and ignited the engine, swiveling the machine around and taking off.

  “You’re supposed to be a badass,” she yelled after him, happy she’d only given him her nickname. Imagine if he knew her entire name.

  The door to thirteen opened, and Jay glanced out. “You’re screaming.”

  She pinned the young vamp with a hard stare.

  He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Well, you are.”

  For Pete’s sake. She sighed and stepped over cracked concrete, careful not to scratch her boots. “You’re supposed to be a vigilante band of vampires too tough to align yourselves with the Realm,” she muttered, sweeping by the kid, who had to be around nineteen years old. “Which was a mistake.”

  “I know.”

  After the war, which had basically just ended a year ago, most vampires in the world had made peace with the Realm, which was a coalition of vamps, shifters, and witches headed by the Kayrs family. Her current followers had thought themselves too tough to align themselves with the Realm until a rogue band of shifters almost ate them for dinner. Of course, it was her good fortune to need a band of Merry Men right at that time.

  Her nose twitched as she entered the stagnant hotel room. A dingy flowered bedspread sprawled over what appeared to be a lumpy mattress, and the orange shag carpet had turned to a dirty rust. Thank God she didn’t have a blacklight with her, because she truly didn’t want to see beneath the surface to the germs and bodily contaminants.

  Two other vampires, both young and blond, fiddled with connec
ting a brand-new laptop to an ancient television set. “Let’s see the recording of the victims,” she ordered.

  Jay shut the door behind her, smelling like French fries and pizza. “Our deal stands?”

  She barely kept from rolling her eyes. “Yes. You helped me with the mission, and now I’ll make sure the king lets you into the Realm.” By all that was holy. If the kids just showed up at King Dage Kayrs’s house, he’d feed them dinner and provide lodging for them, making sure they were trained. Hell, knowing Dage, he’d adopt the young warriors into his own vampire family. They didn’t need her introduction.

  Good thing they didn’t know that. They’d been invaluable in scoping out Titans of Fire, the Dunnes, and the Apollo drug. After she sent them to Dage, she should probably let him know some of the outliers didn’t realize he welcomed all vampires into the fold.

  Something to worry about another day, and only if she survived double-crossing Daire Dunne, which seemed to be a bit impossible after meeting the guy. It was too bad the only kiss she’d had in eons had come from a witch who no doubt was about to put a bounty on her head and then collect it himself.

  It wasn’t like she could blame him, because man, had she worked him. Who would’ve thought, her biggest curse and greatest regret would be an advantage in subterfuge? She might be damaged, and she might be weak, but this time, she was going to win. Finally.

  It was odd how life worked out.

  Hers was no doubt reaching its expiration date, but she had one job to do before she could rest, and Daire Dunne or no, she was going to do it.

  The old television sprang to life, and a grainy video took shape of a couple of twenty-year-old girls dressed in shimmering tops and high heels hanging out in the private lounge area of Tod’s Bar in lower Seattle. They smiled and flirted with men in suits, and the shortest girl finally drew slim vials of bright orange liquid from her knock-off purse. Apollo. The newest drug on the market.

  They drank the entire vials.

  Jay glanced over his shoulder. “This gets bad, Cee Cee. Sure you want to watch?”

  If the kid had any idea what she’d seen through the years, he’d feel like an idiot asking the question. Yet she appreciated his concern, even as her stomach rolled. “Yes,” she murmured, her gaze remaining on the screen.

  The girls continued to party, one even making out with a much older man in a corner booth. An hour passed and the room began to clear out. Soon, the girls began to wobble on their heels while returning to the bar.

  For water, probably. At that point with Apollo, their spit would be drying up.

  Sparks crackled on the shorter girl’s arm. Then waves of fire, blue and orange.

  Her friend gasped and stumbled back, only to shoot plasma, oddly purple, from her fingertips.

  A bouncer quickly reached the girls, but it was too late. Fire cascaded around them, on them, even inside them. Soon they both dropped to the ground, scorching the carpet around them.

  The bouncer, a huge bald man with multiple earrings in each ear, shouted orders and sent the few remaining patrons scrambling for the door.

  He didn’t reach for the phone.

  The taller girl went into convulsions, and fire roared from her fingertips to scald the far wall. Then she went silent and still, her eyes open in death. Colorful striations marred the whites of her eyes.

  The other girl gasped, smoke streaming from her mouth, and tried to crawl toward her friend. She almost made it before collapsing in death, a trickle of flame burning out the side of her mouth.

  The television clicked off.

  “So sick,” Jay said. “What’s in Apollo? Nobody knows, Cee Cee.”

  She knew. It was a mineral mined in Russia that had several names, and her people called in planekite. It stole the power of witches and ultimately killed them, and now it was part of a designer drug that gave witchly power to humans before incinerating their internal organs. “I don’t know what’s in it,” she lied.

  He flicked off the television. “The bouncer ends up carrying them outside, where there’s no camera. The bodies haven’t been found yet.”

  That figured. “Track down the bodies and make sure they get a proper burial, and make sure their families are notified, if they have families.”

  Jay cleared his throat. “You’ll contact the king?”

  “Yes.” She glanced at her watch, her heart aching for those poor, stupid girls. Youth made mistakes, but they shouldn’t be deadly, damn it. “Finish the job here, lie low for two weeks, and then show up at Realm headquarters. Dage will be waiting with open arms.” That would give her enough time to get her job done before anybody figured out what she was doing.

  “Thank you,” Jay whispered, the gratitude on his rugged face sweet and kind of sad.

  “You’re welcome,” she said, wanting nothing more than to give the kid a hug. But now she had a plane to catch and a pissed-off male witch to escape. With a sigh, she turned and headed back into the cool Seattle night for the next part of her grand plan of revenge and death. Then, finally, she could rest.

  Time started to tick by as Daire fought to regain control of his body on the smooth tile floor. His other hand unclenched. Then tingles cascaded up his legs. If he could just get—

  The door opened.

  Fuck.

  A second clicked, and then two well-trained bodies launched into motion. One jumped over him, green gun out, scouting the empty penthouse. The other hauled him up by the armpits, all two hundred fifty pounds of him, and shoved him onto a brocade chair by the entrance.

  Garrett Kayrs, nephew to the vampire king, kept Daire from falling over and peered into his eyes. “Do we need backup?”

  Daire shook his head and forced out a word. “No.” It was bad enough the two young soldiers had found him. But better them than his brothers. He’d never live down one of them finding him helpless on his own damn floor.

  Garrett’s metallic gray eyes narrowed, and his massive shoulders rolled back. For a vampire only in his early twenties, he’d settled into command mode incredibly quickly.

  Logan Kyllwood jogged back into view, rubbing his crew-cut hair. “Condo is clear.”

  Daire swallowed, and the taste of sulfur burned down his throat. Whatever had been in the syringe had been created to take down an immortal, more specifically, a witch. “I’m fine.”

  Logan snorted, his lighter green eyes twinkling. Coming from a vampire and demon hybrid, it sounded more like a call for war. His square jaw was all demon, while the sharp angles of his cheekbones were all vampire, making for a predatory combination. “Dude. You are not fine.”

  Had the fucking demon just called him dude? God save him from soldiers two decades old. Yet as much as he tried, he couldn’t help liking the two young males, even though they were slobs who kept violating the order of his condo. One a vampire, one a demon. Man, had humans gotten them wrong. Vamps could go into the sun, and demons had nothing to do with hell. They were just two different species on earth, like witches. But the smartass comments needed to stop.

  Daire cleared his throat, finally able to move his mouth. “What was taken?” He’d heard Cee Cee rummage through his place, and his gut clenched.

  Logan grimaced. “Your office looks like a pack of feline shifters went through it, and it’s gonna drive you crazy, believe me. A lot of papers everywhere, and the drawer on mine holdings is almost empty. Any files pertaining to Russia, Norway, and Canada.”

  Daire breathed out. Oh, she had not taken those. Who the fuck was that woman? He stretched his ankles, and spikes of needles pricked through them. “Is that all?”

  “No. It looks like Simone’s penthouse was also ransacked.” Logan shook his head. “Boy, is she gonna be pissed.”

  Simone? As a member of the Council of the Coven Nine, the ruling body for the witch nation, Simone surely had confidential papers at her penthouse, which was adjacent to Daire’s. He tried to grasp on to reality. “Go get the video surveillance for the building. Now.”

&
nbsp; Logan nodded and sped out the door.

  Garrett released Daire and sat back. “What happened?”

  “Nothing. Coven business.” As an enforcer for the witch world, he could claim privacy from the vampire. “How was hunting?”

  Garrett studied him, almost too much knowledge on his young face. More and more, every day, he was starting to look like his father, badass Talen Kayrs. Talen was one of the most dangerous vampire soldiers Daire had ever met, and that was saying something.

  Garrett and Logan were undercover as prospective members of the Titans of Fire Motorcycle Club and had been scouting Seattle bars all night for a lead on the drug they were all investigating. The idea of the two soldiers, who had seen real war and death, fighting to be included in a human motorcycle club was silly at best. But they had been doing a good job getting information about the drug, and Daire had actually enjoyed having the kids around, even if they did mess up his normally ordered life.

  Garrett shook his head. “No new Intel tonight from the bars we frequented. The dealers are getting sneakier.”

  Daire tried to clear the numbness in his head. “Are the cameras at Fire operational?”

  “No. We disabled them weeks ago, not wanting Logan or me caught on surveillance.”

  Aye. At the time, Daire had agreed with the decision. “Those papers hold the locations of every planekite mine on earth as well as the deeds we hold.” He purposely kept all information off computers, which could be hacked, because, hey, he was a hardass enforcer who could protect paper. Well, except from one very tiny blond, enhanced human. Fuck, shit, and double-damn fuck. “I can’t believe this.” He wiped his forehead, his hand shaking.

  Garrett swallowed. “Um, were there a bunch of them? The ones who took you out?”

  “No. One woman with a syringe knocked me on my ass.” One woman.

  Garrett’s eyebrows rose in his hard-cut face. “A woman?”

  Daire growled. “Yes. Very pretty.”

  Garrett pressed his lips together, and his gray eyes lightened to a sparkling silver.