Wicked Kiss Page 6

  Victoria wrapped her arms around his waist and settled her face against the back of his shirt. Trusting little thing when he gave her no choice, now wasn’t she?

  He could almost hear her turmoil-filled thoughts. So he opened the throttle and let the beast go. The second her worry turned to enjoyment, he smiled. Figured she’d like it fast and dangerous.

  The cobblestones tried to grab the tires, but he drove evenly, allowing the world to flash by. The first hiccup came in the form of a rapid decrease in speed. Then increase. Then decrease. “What the hell?” he muttered.

  Victoria shook her head against him.

  The bike slowly petered out and then stopped. Trees lined one side of the road, while the river lined the other. He jumped off and crouched down, holding the bike with one hand.

  Victoria gingerly slid from the seat. Her hair was a wild mass around her pretty pink face, and her eyes sparkled the deep blue of the center of the ocean.

  His groin hardened.

  She swallowed. “The bike won’t start.”

  What was wrong with his bikes lately? He reached for a cell phone in his back pocket. “I’ll have somebody come get us and take us to the airport.”

  She paled. “I can’t fly. Can’t be anywhere near a death contraption in the sky.”

  Oh, the sweetheart. She was afraid of flying. He stood and secured the bike. “Our pilots are the best, and the planes very safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  She fisted her hands. “Adam. You are not listening to me—I just said that I can’t fly.”

  He paused and focused, his phone silent in his hand. Her eyes blazed, and her shoulders had gone rock hard. “Okay. Talk.”

  She gestured toward the bike. “Dead bike. Again.”

  He frowned and studied his perfectly maintained motorcycle. Interesting. “True. Go on.”

  She huffed out a breath. “There’s something wrong with me.” Both hands scrubbed through her curly hair. “I can’t explain it. Anything with a motor or electricity . . . I can make it go dead. Not on purpose. Even the automatic doors at a grocery store. Half the time, they won’t open for me.” Her eyes widened, the look a little wild. “And cash registers. Geez. Many times, they stop working when I get near.”

  He gaped at her. Fascinating. “So, your enhancement as a human is . . . what? You affect machinery?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s weird, but I’ve gotten used to it. Sometimes a car will stop. Not all the time, but I can’t control when or how. I try to stay away from engines, but sometimes that’s not possible. No way am I getting on an airplane. No way.”

  He wanted to banish the fear crossing her stunning face. “You flew to get here.”

  “I know,” she breathed, shaking her head. “They kidnapped me, and I was unconscious the whole way here. Maybe that helped? I’m not sure.”

  Fury slashed through him that somebody had knocked her out. “Who hurt you?”

  She took a step back. “I have no clue.”

  Oh, he’d find out, and that bastard would bleed. “Okay.” He rapidly clicked thoughts into place. “Can you affect machinery on purpose?”

  “I’ve tried,” she admitted, kicking a pebble. “Sometimes I can, but often not so much.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s weird, right?”

  “No,” he said. “Not really. I mean, waves are all around us. Light waves, sound waves, thought waves, microwaves . . . your waves just mess with machinery. There’s plenty of logic to it.”

  She blinked. A slow smile lifted her lips. “Logic? Me?”

  He coughed. “Good point.” Then he grinned. Man, she was cute.

  “So.” She hunched her shoulders just as a light rain began to fall. “Do you have a boat?”

  “Better.” He quickly dialed a number and pressed the phone to his ear. “Much better.”

  “Kayrs,” came a low voice.

  Adam smiled. “King? I need a favor.”

  * * *

  Tori wiped rain off her cheeks, her heart thrumming. She’d confessed her oddity to Adam, and he hadn’t blinked. In fact, he’d figured it out. Maybe. Who knew? She watched him on the phone with somebody named King.

  “I need a ride, and I’ll owe you one. Lock on to my cell phone, would you?” Adam sent her a reassuring smile. “King?” he said into the phone.

  A man appeared on the road. Out of nowhere. “What?” he asked.

  Tori gasped and backpedaled three feet. Her heart slammed against her rib cage, and her legs twitched with the urge to flee. What the hell?

  Adam slid his phone into his back pocket and turned to face the guy. “Have to make an entrance, don’t you?”

  The man grinned. He wore dark jeans and a black button-down shirt that looked expensive. Comfortable and expensive. “I was in a meeting with Kane and Conn. They hate it when I just disappear.”

  Tori’s mouth opened, and she snapped it shut.

  “Hello,” the guy said.

  She shook her head slowly. The man was as tall as Adam and very broad across the chest. His eyes looked kind of silver in the misty day, and his dark hair reached his shoulders. An odd gray patch ran through the thick mass, but he couldn’t be more than thirty years old. Tension rolled off him . . . charisma? No. Power. Yeah. That was it.

  Adam moved toward her and took her arm, his bulk and warmth providing comfort. “Don’t bolt, little rabbit. Dage is a friend.”

  Dage. Yeah. The name fit. She lifted her chin. “Hello.”

  Adam smiled. “Victoria, this is Dage Kayrs, King of the Realm. Dage, this is—”

  “Victoria Monzelle,” Dage said smoothly, seeming content in the center of the quiet road. “Sister to Detective Alexandra Monzelle, who is mated to Kellach Dunne, the former Coven Nine Enforcer currently wanted for treason.”

  Adam sighed. “Show-off.”

  “Not even close,” Dage said. “Known as Tori to those close to you. You’re a singer in a band, have a two-year degree in music, and you supplement your income by selling lyrics to bigger names in the business. You’re underpaid, by the way.”

  Tori blinked. Nobody knew about that. Hadn’t they told her that the king of the Realm was a vampire? A real freakin’ vampire. “You have good sources.” What else did the king know?

  He lifted a massive shoulder. “I’m the king. Everyone forgets that sometimes.”

  How the hell would anybody ever forget that fact? There was no doubt he was something . . . more. If he knew any of her other secrets, he chose not to tell. At this moment in time, anyway.

  His eyes sparkled. “It’s very nice to make your acquaintance.”

  Adam released her arm. “We need a ride.”

  Dage cocked his head, his gaze darkening. “You’re a Coven Nine Enforcer, and I believe the witch nation is about to withdraw from the Realm. War might be imminent. Thus, we would no longer be allies.”

  Tori shivered.

  “I’m asking as a friend,” Adam said simply.

  The king brightened. “Well then. Of course.”

  Who were these people? “Um, ride?” Tori asked, her voice wavering slightly. “You appeared out of nowhere.” She didn’t want a ride on his magic carpet, or whatever it was. Who knew how much she could screw that up? “This is a bad idea.” One she didn’t even understand.

  A small smile played on the king’s face. “Out of curiosity, why not take a plane?”

  “She’s enhanced with an ability that somehow jams engines, motors, and some electrical devices,” Adam said simply.

  The king studied her. “Cool.”

  Cool? Huh. She’d always thought it aggravating.

  “But she can’t control it. Yet.” Adam glanced down the empty roadway. “It’s imperative we get out of Dublin.”

  “Ah, yes.” Dage studied the tumultuous sky. “I heard you offered to mate Miss Monzelle.”

  Adam glowered. “How the hell—”

  “I’m the king,” Dage said wearily. “Geez. The. King.”

  Tori
tried to retreat another step, and Adam grasped her hand, completely enfolding it. “I’m not riding with him.” She forced a smile. “Sorry, king.”

  “Dage. Please call me Dage.” Amusement brought one dimple into play in his rugged face. “I can teleport, Victoria. It’s a matter of moving between dimensions with the application of string theory and a bunch of other boring science stuff. No motors. No engines. No electricity.” His hands opened and spread wide. “In fact, metal can’t even come with us, so no weapons. Or phones.”

  Okay. Life was so much different from what she’d thought. She couldn’t even imagine this craziness. “Um, no.”

  Adam moved toward the middle of the road, forcing her to follow. She tried to pull back and free her hand, but he held tight.

  Dage watched the struggle, his dimple winking again. “I promise it does not hurt. You’ll be fine.” He waited until they’d reached him, and the atmosphere grew heavy in his vicinity. “Where are we going?” he asked mildly.

  “My penthouse in Seattle,” Adam said tersely. “Trust me, Victoria. I wouldn’t allow anything to harm you.”

  Well, that seemed to be true. She stopped fighting him. “I, ah, I don’t know about this.”

  Dage nodded. “Understandable. I assume your world has been rocked by quite a few revelations lately. Incidentally, if you’d like, I could have the man who stole your last song from you beheaded. Or tortured for a few weeks.”

  The saliva in her mouth dried up.

  “Somebody stole one of your songs?” Adam asked, his eyes flashing.

  She tried to swallow, but her throat ached. “Well, yeah. He’s an old friend, or I thought he was, and I showed him a song. He basically stole it and sold it for a decent amount, and there was nothing I could do.” Her gaze remained on the king. He sure knew pretty much everything. Why wasn’t he telling Adam about her working for the DEA and investigating him? As she watched, Dage slowly winked. Man. He was just messing around. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve made peace with it. Please don’t, ah, behead anybody,” she whispered.

  “Your call,” Dage said cheerfully. “Everybody ready to go?”

  “Wait.” Adam pulled out his cell phone and ripped it apart easily, crushing the chip with his bare hands. He dusted the pieces to the ground. “All right.”

  “I don’t—” Tori started to say, just as Dage moved forward, sliding an arm around her waist and one around Adam’s.

  Then . . . nothing. No sights, no sounds, no feelings. Just nothing.

  Light slammed into her, along with gravity. She blinked. An opulent hallway slowly came into focus. She blinked again . . . right into the barrel of a gun.

  Chapter 7

  Adam reacted instantly, kicking the nearest gun and sending it spinning. Dage pivoted to take out a guy to the right, while Adam shoved Victoria behind him. A bullet whizzed by his head. He went into battle mode, sizing up his opponents.

  Four-man attack team, armed, and shocked as hell to see them appear out of thin air in his own Seattle penthouse vestibule. The first guy reached for a knife in his pocket, and Adam tackled him into the wall. A couple of hard punches to the gut, one to the jaw, and the guy went down.

  Cold metal pressed against Adam’s ear. He stilled, slowly turning around, grabbed the gun and punched for the temple. The guy dropped like a rock.

  Dage stood to the side with an attacker in a headlock, while the fourth man held Victoria easily before him, his gun against her rib cage.

  Fury swept through Adam, and he stilled, forcing control through his limbs. “Get that gun away from her, or I’ll rip off your fucking head.” His fangs dropped low. Witches had fangs just like vampires, but they rarely used them.

  The attacker eyed him and then looked at the king.

  Adam concentrated on the team, noting their signatures. The guys were witches. “Were you sent to attack us?” he snapped.

  “No,” the guy in the headlock croaked.

  Oh. “I’m still an Enforcer with the Coven Nine. Want to explain why you just attacked us . . . as well as making a move on the king of the Realm?” Adam demanded.

  The guy holding Victoria slowly lowered his weapon and then released her. He paled. Yeah. Nobody messed with the king.

  Victoria stumbled over the prone body, headed straight for Adam, her eyes wide, panic across her features. He held out an arm, and she ran right into it, snuggling into his side. Damn, if that didn’t feel good.

  Adam nodded at the king, who had apparently tightened his hold, because his hostage was turning purple and kind of flopping while standing up. “Dage? I think you can let him go.”

  Dage’s mouth turned down. “Oh, all right.” He shoved the guy toward his buddy.

  “Explain,” Adam ordered.

  “We were sent to investigate the penthouses and look for the traitors, Simone Brightston, Kellach Dunne, and Daire Dunne,” the first guy said slowly. “Then you appeared out of nowhere.”

  “Those people aren’t traitors, you dumbass,” Adam shot back.

  The guy lowered his chin. “According to the Council, they are, and they’ll be treated as such. If you have information pertaining to their locations, you must divulge that now or face your own treason charges.”

  Adam pinned the guy with a hard look. “We’ve just arrived from Dublin, as you can see. I have no information.” He tightened his hold on Victoria. “And if you ever threaten me again, you’ll be eating through a straw for centuries.”

  Dage looked around the foyer, pausing at one demolished and boarded-up door. “This must be where Daire lived? I heard your brother’s penthouse was attacked last week.”

  “Aye,” Adam said, keeping his gaze on the two still-standing attackers. “Take your team and get out. Now.”

  The men each lifted an unconscious witch over his shoulder and headed down the stairs.

  Dage whistled, glancing at the scorch marks on the damaged walls before looking up at the cracked ceiling tiles. “This place looks like it was bombed. It’s shocking nobody got injured.”

  “Everyone got injured,” Adam returned. “But we all lived.” A rogue demon had bombed his brother’s penthouse a couple of weeks previous.

  Dage nodded. “Even so, you shouldn’t stay here. I have a couple of safe houses.”

  “We’re covered. Just want to grab some things,” Adam said, his shoulder blades itching. “Thank you for the ride, Dage.”

  “No problem.” Dage smiled at Victoria. “It was truly a pleasure.” With that, the king zipped out of the foyer.

  “Wow,” Victoria murmured. She shook her head and pushed away from Adam. “That was exciting.”

  Talk about an understatement. Adam ignored the shattered tile beneath his feet and moved toward his door, unlocking it by using the keypad.

  Victoria followed behind him. “What happened to this place?”

  “Bombing.” Adam stepped inside, closing his eyes to listen for threats. Nothing. He turned and gestured Victoria inside, locking the door after her.

  She looked around the spacious main room. Only one of his walls showed damage. “You sure have an exciting life.”

  “Not usually,” he said. Hell. That wasn’t true. Being an Enforcer, even during peacetime, rarely offered a peaceful moment. “I’ll keep you safe from the dangers of my job, Victoria.”

  She hovered in the surroundings, seeming uncomfortable for the first time since he’d met her. “I’m not staying in your life. Surely you know that.”

  “Considering your sister mated my brother, you are always going to be in my life.” How did she not understand the concept of family?

  She cleared her throat and gingerly strode down the two steps to the plush living room. “We’re not mating. You get that, right?”

  He scrubbed both hands down his face, his whiskers burning his palms. “Listen, I’ll try to figure something out. Right now, the entire witch nation is in flux, and I promise we won’t do anything without pursuing all avenues.” Yet, he had to tell her th
e truth. “But the Coven Nine, even fractured, is extremely dangerous. While the Enforcers are on our side, the Guard follows Coven dictates, and I’ve trained some of those soldiers. If the existing council members order our deaths, we’ll be running forever.”

  She crossed her arms, looking small and fragile in the large room. “I am not mating you, damn it.”

  “Some people think I’m a catch,” he murmured, gratified when her lips twitched. Oh, her smile was unwilling, but still. Making her smile spread pleasure through him. He nodded toward the kitchen. “I’m sure there’s something to eat in the kitchen. Why don’t you go rummage through the cupboards while I take a quick shower and change clothing?” He glanced down at the tattered remains of his outfit.

  She swallowed and looked toward the wide expanse of windows. “I, ah, like you in casual wear.”

  His attention was caught. “You do?”

  She shuffled her feet. “Yes. You’re more approachable when you’re not dressed like a lawyer.”

  A lawyer? She thought his dress pants and shirts made him look like a barrister? He frowned.

  She shrugged. “I’ll go find food. Take your time with the shower. I may cook something.” Dodging him, she picked her way to the open kitchen, going right for the refrigerator.

  * * *

  Tori looked into a refrigerator bigger than her first apartment. Every once in a while, she forgot that Adam was completely loaded. How much did a penthouse in downtown Seattle go for, anyway? Probably for more money than she’d ever see. Ever.

  The fridge was mainly empty save for a beer, a shrunken orange, and some ketchup. At least he was a normal bachelor.

  She shut the fridge and returned to the great room. The apartment was silent. Was he in the shower yet? Probably. It was sweet that he hadn’t even questioned her willingness to stay in place, considering she’d already run from him once. Of course, he probably thought she’d been afraid of the plane crashing because of her motor issues.

  She had more problems than her curse.

  Glancing down at her borrowed clothing, she had to admit the witches had style. The long pants were top quality, as was the silk blouse. The boots were like butter against her skin. Good enough to meet with DEA Agent Franks.