City of Demons (Chronicles of Arcana Book 1) Page 11

  “Gilbert?” I pressed.

  “I’m sorry, Wila. He just makes me feel strange.”

  “Strange?”

  “I can’t explain it. Being in the same room as him makes me feel ... odd.”

  Odd. Okay. “Can you elaborate?”

  “I wish I could. I just don’t feel comfortable around him.”

  “Okay, I get that. There are people I don’t feel comfortable hanging out with. It could be the same for ghosts. I mean, you were a person once. But can you please try? For me? We need information on a dude called Lex who owns an exclusive club called the Petting Zoo.”

  A beat of silence. “The name does ring a bell. I can do a search now.”

  “Please. And then can you brief us? We’re headed there at midnight tonight.”

  “You and the Shedim?”

  “Yes.”

  A long beat of silence. “Of course.”

  “Thank you, Gilbert.”

  His presence retreated across the room toward the old PC which I’d had installed and connected to the infoweb a few years ago. The man was a genius when it came to finding tidbits of information. If there was anything about Lex in the archives, then he’d find it.

  A pot of tea sat on my desk, and Azren had taken up the small two-seater sofa parked up against the far wall by the filing cabinets that were really only for show, because who the heck kept files and paper invoices anyway?

  The Shedim’s posture was relaxed, but the set of his shoulders told a different story. This creature, this demon, never let his guard down. Not unless he was almost kissing someone ... What kind of life was that?

  Gilbert hovered by my side. His agitation was like a heat signature searing the side of my arm. Guilt spiked in my chest, but I tamped it down. Azren was going to be working with us for as long as it took to apprehend the rogue Shedim, and we all needed to get along, to be able to function as a team. Trevor liked to play gatekeeper and receptionist, and yeah, sometimes he dropped awesome bombs with regards to investigative tips. The stroppy canine had become a part of the furniture, but Gilbert was vital to the team. He was much more than a glorified librarian. He’d filled a hole in my heart with his paternal presence and the endless chats over cups of tea. Truth be told, the thought of Azren and him not getting along made my chest tighten with apprehension. The world around us was often unpredictable and chaotic, but that chaos was left at the door. This was my haven, my safe place, and there could be no disruption here.

  Azren’s gaze scanned the room. He could sense Gilbert but not pinpoint his location. Beside me, Gilbert’s energy smoothed out as he relaxed.

  “What have you got for us, Gilbert?” I kept my gaze ahead, giving no clue as to where Gilbert was standing. Anonymity wasn’t an option for Gilbert, but I’d give him this much.

  “I didn’t find too much. The man is, for want of a better word, a ghost.”

  Gilbert’s voice echoed around the room, a little trick he’d used only the first time we’d met. It made it impossible to know where in the room he was, but Azren’s gaze zoned straight in on the point beside me.

  “What are you?” Azren asked.

  There was a beat of silence in which Gilbert’s agitation was like a siren pealing inside my mind.

  “Gilbert’s a ghost,” Trevor provided.

  Azren’s eyes narrowed. “Really?”

  Gooseflesh broke out across my skin.

  Azren unfurled his body and stood. He sauntered across the room but stopped on the other side of my desk. He’d be eye to eye with Gilbert now, and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear he could see my friend even if we couldn’t. There was silence, long and pregnant, and like hell could I tear my gaze from the curve of Azren’s jaw.

  “A ghost,” Azren said finally. “We have no ghosts where I come from. Death leaves nothing behind.” He retook his seat and it was as if the room breathed a sigh of relief.

  “There isn’t much in the media about Lex Hunter.” Gilbert’s tone was strained as he continued. “The paper trail on him is sparse. Just the purchase of the warehouse five years ago and then a small mention of the opening of the Petting Zoo almost a year later.”

  “Do we know what kind of neph he is?” Trevor asked from his spot on the chair by my desk.

  “No. I could find no birth records for him, no mention of any club antics. It’s as if there is a media blackout where he is concerned.”

  I sat back in my seat. “And the fact that membership to his club is via invitation only would explain why I haven’t heard of him until now. We’re essentially going in blind.”

  “I’m sorry, Wila,” Gilbert said.

  “Don’t be. If there’s nothing to find, then there’s nothing to find. We’ll just have to wing it.” I grinned. “Just as well, winging it happens to be my forte.”

  “I find that a man who wishes to hide is usually running from something,” Azren said. His gaze had gravitated back to the spot where Gilbert stood.

  “Or he may just value his privacy,” Gilbert retorted.

  Trevor snorted. “None of this helps Wila, and she can’t even take another dose of luck, not so soon after the first dose.”

  Yeah, luck was addictive. More than two doses in six months and you’d find yourself hooked. Although I’d technically only taken one dose, Barnaby was unlikely to believe that; after all, an addict will say anything to get another hit, and for some patrons, two hits was enough to be hooked.

  Azren was staring at me with a question on his face.

  “What?”

  “You have luck potions?” he asked.

  Shit, Barnaby’s creations were on a need-to-know basis. Only the select clientele knew what he could cook up. This wasn’t information that needed to get back to Elora.

  I clapped my hands and stood. “It’s going to be a long night. I’m gonna nap and then get ready. I’ll meet you down here at ten-thirty.”

  Successfully avoiding the issue of the luck potions, I escaped up to the third floor and my pink-infested bedchamber. My bed was an investment in comfort—sleep was an important commodity for the likes of me, who sometimes barely squeezed in a couple of hours when running a case. The mattress cradled me, and my eyes fluttered closed. Azren’s face appeared in my mind’s eyes, his lips to be precise, way too close and enticing.

  Fuck this. It had been months since my last sexual encounter. A woman had needs, and when this case was over, I’d make sure those needs were met. As if satisfied with this promise, my brain finally agreed to shut down, and sleep did its claiming thing.

  The dress fit like a glove—a very sexy, slinky glove. It was meant to be a midi but there was way too much leg on show. Black tights it was. Better. Boots? No, that looked way too dominatrix. Heels would do—my favorite two-inch block heels. Oh, man. Let’s hope there was no running or kickassery on the menu tonight. My hair was sleek and shiny from the wash, blow dry, and quick swipe with the hair straightener. A slick of mascara, a little gloss, and yeah, it was almost time to head out.

  My stomach fluttered with nerves. Chill, this isn’t a real night out. It had been six months since one of those. Eloise and I had painted the town purple with our crazy exploits.

  Good times.

  This was work, and my colleague was waiting.

  There was something about the click of heels that made everything seem that much more feminine. And the look on Azren’s face as I walked down the steps was enough to complete the picture. Any doubts I’d had about how good I looked flew out the window and perched in the tree outside.

  He recovered quickly, his expression smooth as glass. But by that time it was my turn to check him out, with his combed-back tresses and piercing eyes, and the way that shirt hugged his torso was criminal. And damn, if he turned around and I got a look at that ass in those trousers, I’d need a bloody hanky to mop up the ... drool, you dirty fucker. Drool.

  My heels hit the foyer and he towered over me, enveloping me in his shadow and scent.

  “Well, i
sn’t this civilized,” a voice drawled.

  The dragon prince watched us from the office doorway. He was dressed casually in a cream shirt and jeans. The sleeves were rolled up, the top button undone, and his chestnut hair was tousled. Longer than I recalled, it curled under his ears. He blinked slowly, almost as if it was an afterthought, something he did to appear more human. I dropped my gaze to his mouth—better that than his soul-sucking peepers.

  When the heck had he turned up and who’d let him in? It was almost eleven at night.

  “What are you doing here?” My voice was a breathy whisper. I cleared my throat and tried again. “It’s a little late for a social call.”

  Valance scanned me from tip to toe, lingering in places that made my heart slam in my throat and irritation rise up in my chest.

  “Hey! Eyes up here.” I snapped my fingers by my face.

  Azren growled low and menacing and Valance’s brows shot up. “Well, hello. The dog has a spine. It looks like you’ve done something to earn father’s favorite pup’s loyalty.” He smirked suggestively. “I wonder what ...”

  I hadn’t done anything to earn Azren’s loyalty, and from the look on Azren’s face, he was just as shocked by his reaction as Valance was.

  “I didn’t peg you for a gutter brain.” I crossed my arms under my chest, realizing what a defensive gesture it was, and how it pushed my boobs up, but what the heck, it made me look unafraid and that’s all that mattered. “What do you want, Valance?”

  “I was hoping for a thank you, maybe a gentle stroll down the promenade?”

  “Funny.”

  His expression hardened and so did his tone. “You owe me, Miss Bastion. I saved your life.”

  I swallowed. “Yes. I know you did. But what I don’t know is why.”

  He graced me with a slow blink. “I have a thing for fuck-me eyes.”

  My stomach flipped. “Seriously? That’s your response?”

  He touched his top teeth with his tongue and then he pouted and shrugged. “Does it matter?”

  “Of course it matters. If I’ve learned anything in my short twenty-five years it’s that nothing in this world comes for free.”

  His face cracked in an amiable grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re wise for your years, Miss Bastion. It’s reassuring. But there’s no agenda. I simply wasn’t in the mood for an execution. Besides, if Mother had eaten you, I’m pretty sure you’d have given her indigestion.”

  “Why? Because I smell odd?”

  “Exactly.”

  “So, why are you here? Really.”

  He placed his hand on his heart. “I missed our witty repartee.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Okay, thank you for saving my life. Unfortunately, I don’t have time for witty repartee. Now, if we’re done here, I have a job to do.”

  “And what kind of job are you going to do in a dress like that?” Once again his gaze was a little too appreciative. “If I didn’t hope to know better, I’d assume you were taking my mother’s pet on a date.”

  The primal, visceral fear of him that was thrumming under my skin was overshadowed by indignation on Azren’s behalf. “You’re on my side of the border now, Mr. Drako, and Azren is nobody’s pet, he’s my employee. So either show some damn respect or get the fuck out of my office.”

  His mouth parted in surprise and a wicked sense of satisfaction flared in my chest, but it was followed closely by a sick sensation in the pit of my stomach. I was poking the bear, prodding the fucking beast, and yeah, it was unlikely he’d lash out at me right now, right here, but at some point soon, I’d be back on his side of the border. And from the look on his striking face, he was perfectly aware of all this.

  “Look, Valance, I—”

  “My apologies for the neph’s outburst, Prince Drako.” Azren cut me off, stepping between us. “She has proven to be headstrong with very little impulse control. Please excuse her tone and my outburst.”

  Valance’s eyes were on me, though, electric and primal. Azren’s back rippled and his body prepared for action. But what would he do against a dragon prince? What would he do against his master?

  Valance’s mouth twitched and the tension bled out of the room. “Where are you going, Miss Bastion?” His tone was amiable once more, but it was clear he wouldn’t back down without an answer.

  I moved closer to Azren, absorbing the heat of his body. “Information gathering, Mr. Drako, and we don’t want to be late. If there’s nothing else ...”

  Valance inclined his head. “No. Nothing for now. Just report back to me tomorrow.”

  “I thought I was supposed to report to your mother at the next full moon.”

  “It is possible to do both.”

  There was no arguing with that tone. I touched Azren’s arm lightly, and he moved aside, allowing me to clip toward the front door. Not checking to see if Azren was with me, I stepped out into the crisp night air as a car across the road slammed on the brakes, narrowly missing hitting a young woman. The horn blared angrily, and the woman glanced over her shoulder, her face a delicate, pale smudge, and then she was gone. A cold blast of air shot up my skirt. Dammit. I should have grabbed my dustkicker. I turned to head back in, but Azren blocked my path, something clutched in his hand.

  “You’ll need this,” Azren said gruffly before shoving my jacket at me.

  “Aw, who knew you cared.”

  “I don’t. I just need you fit and healthy to do your job.”

  “Way to burst my bubble. Is he gone?” I slipped on the soft leather dustkicker, sighing as it fell into place as if it was made for me.

  “Yes. He vanished once you left the room.”

  “He did what?”

  Azren sighed. “There is much for you to learn about the Draconi. The first being that you must not antagonize them. They lash out first and ask for clarification later. You’re lucky my liege needs you or the prince may not have been so lenient with you in light of your insolence.”

  “You don’t need to fight my battles. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

  He exhaled through his nose. “No. No, you’re not. Not when it comes to my people.”

  The fight bled out of me. He was right. There were too many unknown variables when it came to my new boss and his world. “Fine. I’ll be more careful.”

  But Azren was no longer listening to me. His gaze was fixed over my shoulder. “You have a flat tire. You’ll ride with me.”

  “What?” I spun to check out Mini, and sure enough, the front tire closest to the curb was flat. Shit, I didn’t even have a spare. I’d used the spare a couple of months ago on the same damn tire. Urgh.

  Azren was already astride his bike. He glanced across at me. “Get on.”

  So much for styling my bloody hair. Gathering it up into a pony, I snapped a band around it and then clipped over to the bike.

  “I swear, if you get me killed, I’ll haunt you to the end of days.”

  “If you are killed on my watch then there will be no one for you to haunt. Elora will end me for failing her, and there is nothing for the untethered after death.”

  He was talking about the fact that he didn’t have a mate, that Elora would never let him have one. A fist tightened in my chest, helmet forgotten. I opened my mouth to say something, but snapped it closed again, because what the heck could I say?

  The engine revved and then purred. I held on for dear life, contact in all the right places, and then we were streaming into the night.

  11

  The warehouse, which had seemed dead in the daylight, was alight with life. The windows glowed softly and the car park was littered with fancy cars. Elaborately dressed patrons streamed in, men all suited up and women dressed to the nines in hug-the-life-out-of-you dresses and break-your-ankle heels. My dress, which seemed so OTT earlier, was suddenly not dressy enough, and don’t even get me started on my baby heels. Compared to these women, I was a drudge. Pulling the tie from my hair, I fluffed it up a little. We’d parked a g
ood distance from the entrance, no choice really, the place was rammed, but the brisk walk would get the blood flowing through my limbs again. Bikes were really not my thing.

  Azren joined me in giving the place a once over, and then the crunch of boots signaled the arrival of Tay and Mack. They’d parked their bikes next to Azren’s and flanked us now, their huge frames casting me in shadow. Bikes seemed to be the transport of choice, and if Azren’s bike was a monster, then Tay’s bike was its mum.

  The familiar spicy scent of Tay’s cologne tickled my nostrils. I’d been up close and personal with that body. I’d licked the scent off his neck, his torso, and other places. Those hard lips had claimed mine and those hands had ... Oh, man. Stop. My neck heated. The troll dude always had this effect on me, now even more so because we’d actually done the horizontal tango, and I knew exactly what I was missing.

  Taylem leaned in, his voice a rumble in my ear. “You look good, Wila. Real fucking good.”

  Fuck. That deep, quiver-inducing voice always sent a bolt of awareness through me. Damn, if not for the whole troll-mating-instinct thing, I’d be all over him again, but Tay didn’t do casual, and commitment was something that only my clients got—commitment to the case, to the job. Relationships were a different breed, and my heart was something that would remain shielded indefinitely, because the one thing I’d learned growing up was that hearts were fragile, and if you loaned them out, nine times out of ten, they got trampled on and broken. I’d seen it too many times, and the thought of taking that leap broke me out in a cold sweat. Love was asking for trouble, but like? Like was doable, and I really, really liked Taylem.

  I exhaled and smiled up at him, making sure to keep it friendly but not intimate. “Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

  The heat in his eyes died. “Thanks, but this isn’t really my style.”