Conspiracy of Ravens Page 5

  Raven gasped and lurched forward.

  A large hand clamped around her mouth. The shadows pulled her back. Her body slammed into something hard. Someone. The shadows materialized into strong arms, holding her in place.

  “Shhhh, Einin,” a deep rumbling voice tickled her ear.

  The manly scent of a magical forest at dusk caressed her senses. Cole. She lurched forward again. Or at least tried. His arms tightened around her stomach and held her in place. Her scalp tingled. Again. Banshee’s tits. Her hair must respond to potent dark energy somehow.

  The crouched figure from the main entrance stood, tall and looming, before walking into her brother’s building. With the hood of his dark blue sweater pulled up and his head down, Raven couldn’t make out his face. If Cole was behind her, who was the intruder?

  The man lifted his chin and pulled back his hood. From across the entranceway, his familiar features rang all sorts of warning bells.

  Luke Bane.

  Chapter Seven

  “The biggest problem with red flags is I’m drawn to them.”

  ~Bulls and Raven Crawford

  The imposing man loomed in the entrance of her brother’s building. He stood with confidence instead of cowering like the lock-picking menace he really was. What type of ever-loving Underworld trouble had Bear joined now?

  Luke’s dark gaze, edgy with Otherness, scanned the foyer. She watched from the shadows, cocooned in Cole’s heat, heady scent and strong arms. The Lord of Shadows behind her remained relaxed. A thin veil of darkness shielded her vision, almost as though Cole had thrown some sort of invisibility cloak over them. Tension knotted Raven’s shoulders.

  The smooth veneer of Luke’s polished business image slipped away, and his piercing gaze roamed the entrance. She flinched when it reached her. Instead of tensing or letting out some sort of dark fae war cry, Luke’s menacing gaze passed over her and Cole without hesitation.

  Luke glided across the floor. No other word described his progress. Technically, he moved one foot after the other and his boots hit the old tiles of the foyer, but he walked with a fluidity only an Other could pull off. He flowed across the room without effort, like one of those dancers on TV, just without the fancy footwork.

  He paused at the elevator. He tilted his head and stared at the closed metallic doors for a minute. Raven held her breath. Instead of pushing the button for the elevator, Luke pivoted and took the stairs.

  The fluorescent lights in the lobby buzzed. One flickered. When the second-floor door creaked to announce he’d arrived on her brother’s floor, Raven let out a long breath. The tension eased from her body, and she slumped against Cole.

  Against the Patron Fae of Assassins.

  Instantly, the tension returned. She bolted forward.

  The strong arms anchoring her in place released her. She stumbled a few steps and flung out her arms. Her hand slapped the wall, and she stopped her forward-propelling body before completely face-planting.

  She spun around.

  The shadows withdrew, revealing Cole in all his drool-worthy glory. Amusement danced in his dark, intense gaze, only a foot away.

  “You smell of the rain,” he whispered.

  Her breath caught, and her heart convulsed. Memories of her dreams from the last two nights, dreams featuring the man within touching distance in front of her, came rushing back. Her face heated. A buzzing sensation settled around them as if someone pushed the world’s pause button and grabbed some popcorn to watch the show.

  She shook her head. Focus. What was he doing here? What was Luke doing here? What was Bear doing if he wasn’t here? She opened her mouth to demand answers.

  He raised his fingers to his lips.

  She glared at him.

  He pointed at the ceiling, indicating the second floor, with his index finger.

  Her jaw snapped shut. No fair. He got to speak. Then again, he whispered. The words bubbling up her throat required more expression. She yanked up her soggy sweatpants and tip-toed out of the building. She wanted to stomp, but her two remaining brain cells told her that wasn’t a good idea. The cool night air along with the scents of late summer hit her face. Cole followed, close at her heels, like a dark looming shadow, until she ducked into the nearest alley. Her bare feet slapped the cold, damp pavement. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second. Her life had sunk to a new low. She willingly walked into a nasty alley barefoot. And it was all Cole’s fault.

  “Start explaining.” She spun to face him.

  Cole arched a dark brow. His ink-black hair framed his porcelain face, and once again, he wore jeans and a black hoodie. She wanted to rip off his clothes and see the powerful body beneath.

  “I like your eyes like this,” he said. “Natural.”

  She stifled a moan. Why couldn’t the Lord of Shadows be a willowy old man with a cane? And why’d he have to comment on her eyes? She’d left her contacts in their case in the car because they wouldn’t shift with her. “Why are you here?”

  “Looking for your brother, obviously.”

  Oh no. His voice. She’d forgotten the potency of that deep rumbling baritone. The sound vibrated through her bones and turned her insides to goo. He could reach forward and mold her, play with her like putty in his hands.

  “Why is Luke here?”

  “Luke?” His lips twitched. “Is that what he’s going by now?”

  Her legs shook. She resisted the urge to kick him in the shin. Barely. “Maybe I should go ask him for some answers.”

  She waited, but Cole continued to watch her, gaze darkening.

  Fine. Let him stand there looking every bit like the God of Darkness. Maybe Luke would actually give her answers. Even if he scared the beejeezus out of her.

  With a huff, she stomped past the Lord of Shadows.

  “If you think the Lord of War will gift you with anything other than pain and suffering, you deserve the punishments awaiting you in that building.”

  She froze, her back still facing Cole. “Lord of War?”

  “Bane, to be precise.”

  Luke Bane. Bane. The ruthless fae lord from the Realm of War she’d read about in her school books. She shivered. “Crap.”

  Shadows ebbed and flowed along the alleyway. With each tide-like surge, the darkness crept forward, edging closer to where she stood. She spun around. Cole’s unsettling ink-black gaze met hers.

  “And what awaits me here?” she asked. Her heart hammered against her breastbone.

  Cole strode forward, stopping a foot away. The darkness folded in, dousing her in shadow. “What would you like?”

  Dear Odin, he better not read minds. Please, please, please, don’t read minds. Images of their entwined naked bodies writhing against each other flooded her mind. Her mouth went dry.

  He waited, shoulders tense, as if ready to pounce. Part of her—the long repressed sexual part—wanted to call his bluff and see what happened. Would those lips hinting of carnal knowledge live up to their promise and make her nerves sing? Would his hands light her skin on fire?

  Gah!

  His self-satisfied smile grew, as if he followed her entire mental dialogue.

  Oh no. Please, please, please, don’t read minds. “Answers,” she sputtered. “I want answers.”

  He continued to wait, as if silence alone would break her will. It probably would if he continued to look at her like that. She ground her teeth and willed her hands to keep to themselves.

  As if reaching a silent conclusion, Cole straightened, and his gaze grew distant. “A shame.”

  She dug her hands into the pockets of her damp sweatpants.

  A car drove down a neighbouring street, the slick tires rolling down the uneven asphalt. Instead of a low hum, or steady drone, the vehicle thumped down the road. The wind travelled down the alley and brushed past them.

  Cole cleared his throat.

  Two could play this game. She continued to wait.

  “That’s a shame,” he repeated. “I’m also seeking answers.
”

  In other words, TDD refused to help. She crossed her arms. He might search for answers, but he knew a lot more than she did. “No, you’re not. You’re looking for my brother.”

  Cole sneered. “He stole something.”

  “He has a habit of doing that. Get in line.”

  “Something of mine.” His voice dropped.

  “The Claíomh Solais?”

  Cole lunged. Without warning the shadows closed in from all sides and slammed her against the dirty wall of the nearby building. Giving her no chance to escape, or breathe, Cole followed the wave of shadow, clamped his strong hands on her arms, and pressed his hard body into hers. His earthy scent coiled around her, deep and lush.

  She swallowed a moan. Her whole body ached to touch his.

  Dear Odin, the man had already kidnapped her, and now he practically assaulted her in an alley and all she wanted was to rub against him. What was wrong with her?

  The black of his irises bled out to stain the white of his eyes. His ominous gaze pinned her down. Her lungs ached. Then she remembered to breathe. What had she done wrong?

  Nothing.

  The answer hit her brain cells. Besides wanting to touch him in a highly inappropriate way, she’d done nothing wrong.

  “You have to stop doing that,” she said.

  He blinked.

  “You’re not in your shadow world or whatever questionable Underworld realm you hail from. You can’t go around grabbing women. It’s assault. And not nice.”

  “Okay, Einin.” His grip softened, but he kept her against the grimy brick wall with his body.

  He’d called her Einin twice now. If she survived this encounter, she’d look the term up on the internet.

  She glanced down the alley. Her hair stuck to the wall. She winced. No one on the street to help her. Though, the way Cole controlled shadows, even if someone did walk by, she doubted they’d spot her.

  “What do you know of the Claíomh Solais?” His voice held sin and promise, rumbling deep and low, sending tingling sensations along her skin.

  “Why should I tell you anything?” Her mind scrambled. Someone had lied to her, and fae didn’t lie. They couldn’t. Cole said Bear stole something of his, but Bane made a similar statement. They couldn’t both be telling the truth.

  His gaze narrowed.

  “If you’re willing to kidnap and assault me for merely sharing DNA with Bear, you have worse planned for my brother.”

  He opened his mouth.

  “Don’t insult my intelligence and claim otherwise.”

  He closed his mouth.

  “What does Einin mean?”

  “What does Tee-Double-Dee stand for?”

  Her cheeks burned.

  He leaned in. “I’ll tell you mine, if you tell me yours.”

  Oh, sweet baby Odin. She squeezed her eyes shut. His innuendo sent all sorts of dirty thoughts racing scandalously through her mind.

  “No deal,” she said. No way could she tell him the nickname she gave him. He’d use it against her somehow. His sinful voice and powerful body already made her weak in the knees and in the mind. If he knew how badly she yearned to feel his body sliding against hers...Game over. She’d end up his puppet to seduce, manipulate, and ultimately, control.

  Isn’t that what she wanted?

  He chuckled softly and shook his head. “You would risk your life to save your brother?”

  She nodded.

  “From what I understand, he’s the scourge of your family. A blemish on an otherwise clean slate.”

  Fire raced through her veins and heated her face. She clenched her hands into fists. The sleeves of her sweatshirt slipped down her arms and covered them. Her brother’s distance wasn’t entirely his own fault. He had his reasons. Although she didn’t approve, she understood. Raven lifted her chin. “He’s my brother.”

  The dark gaze flicked back and forth, taking in her expression. Cole released her arms, placing his palms against the wall on either side of her head. He grimaced and took a step back. He looked down at his open hands, now covered with tar-like grime, and scowled.

  Raven smirked.

  He rubbed his palms down his dark pant legs before taking another step back. “I have a proposition.”

  Her mind squealed with delight. Um, hello? Don’t forget the early not-so-subtle threat. If she could bitch-slap her libido, she’d do it. Focus.

  “I’m listening.” She straightened and pushed off the wall. Her sweater and her long black hair peeled off the sticky surface with a wet Velcro-like sound.

  Cole flinched.

  She continued to glare at him as she pulled the last stubborn strands of hair from the brick.

  “You work for your dad’s PI business, which according to the website specializes in finding things. Let me hire you. You want to find your brother anyway.”

  He’d obviously researched her and her family. Her skin prickled. What information had he found? “And you want the Claíomh Solais.”

  His jaw clenched. “Yes.”

  “No.”

  “No?” He recoiled. “I’m offering you a job.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Do I need to mention the kidnapping, assault and future plans to torture and possibly kill my brother?” Hopefully, she sounded angrier than she actually was. Part of her still wanted him to kidnap her just to see what he’d do with her. How twisted was that?

  He grunted. “You were returned intact.”

  “Intact?” she sputtered.

  “What if I promise to spare your brother?” He leaned in, his deep voice ran over her skin like a caress. “That’s not a small compromise. He stole from me.”

  Tempting, but no. One thing her mother instilled in her at a young age was a healthy mistrust of Others. Pun intended.

  She shook her head.

  Cole leaned forward. “I will find him, one way or another. And then you’ll wish you had made a deal.”

  She lifted her chin. Maybe, maybe not. If she found Bear and the Claíomh Solais before anyone else, she could make a deal to save her twin’s life. Cole would use her for information to get Bear first. If that happened, she’d have nothing to barter with. The black card burned in her pocket. Nope. I’m not telling this guy a thing.

  Cole straightened and pulled out a card. Like a shady street performer, one moment his hand was empty, and the next he pinched a black business card between two fingers.

  Another black card? Like the one from Bear’s mailbox?

  She plucked the sleek card from his fingers and flipped it over. Charcoal gray, not black. A stylized “C” instead of an “O.” And a number. She ran her finger over the smooth card stock and along the embossed letter.

  She raised her brow and ignored the quailing of her lady bits. “Your number?”

  “Call me.”

  Before she could think of a snide remark, Cole disappeared. A second before, he’d loomed in front of her, vibrating with a potent sexual energy while his sardonic smile mocked her. With the next blink, he dissolved into the shadows.

  Did he watch her from the dark? If she waved her hands around the space where he’d stood, would they smack into his hard body? Her arms itched to test the theory. She clenched her hands and held her arms stiffly by her side. No way. If he watched from somewhere else and saw her batting the air like a deranged tourist at a mosquito infested park, she’d, well, she’d...

  Raven sighed. She should push Cole from her mind and focus on helping her brother.

  Her gaze wandered up the grimy wall of her brother’s building. Despair settled on her shoulders like a lead shawl. She’d have to scale the wall to return her clothes. She didn’t have a key for the building’s front door, only Bear’s apartment.

  She glanced around the alley.

  Or she could strip down here, exposing not only her body to potential watchers, but the card she found and her abilities as well.

  Raven groaned and flung one arm across her chest to s
tretch it.

  Climbing it was.

  Chapter Eight

  “You’re going to be fine. You come from a strong line of lunatics.”

  ~Unknown, probably a fellow lunatic

  Despite washing her hands in the ocean and donning the clean clothes waiting for her back on shore, Raven couldn’t shake the dirty feeling clinging to her skin. She twisted her still-damp hair into a top-knot out of desperate hope the updo prevented the miscellaneous, sticky substance in her hair from getting on the car seat. She drove a 2002 Grand Am, which, according to an article published on her favourite “news” website last week, was number ten on the list of “The Top Ten Shittiest Cars on the Road Today.” Awesome. But not wrong. Affectionately dubbed, Jean Claude, the vehicle already bordered the line between useful and train wreck. She didn’t need to add “mysterious goop smell” to the list of Jean Claude’s features.

  Her contact case sat on the passenger seat. She examined her hands. Crap. Pulling some baby wipes from the glove box, she scrubbed her fingers more thoroughly before popping the contacts back in. Her dry eyes itched in complaint. They needed a break. Raven squirted in some drops before turning the key to the ignition.

  After a long, tiring, stinky drive, she pulled up to the back entrance of Crawford Investigations. Her father’s small office sat at the end of a rundown strip mall. She needed access to her father’s database and visiting tonight meant no interruptions or questions. She’d tell Dad about Bear’s disappearance soon enough, but she wanted to delay the worry that would settle on her parents’ shoulders. They raised her to hope for the best and plan for the worst.

  Before she set out to Bear’s place, she’d hoped her twin wasn’t responsible for stealing the mysterious Claíomh Solais. She hoped to find him binge-watching the latest show on television. She hoped he had nothing to do with the dark fae lords now running amuck in her life. After Bane’s appearance at his apartment, though, she had to accept her fears were correct and plan accordingly. Bear’s involvement moved from probably to positively. Maybe this was a simple misunderstanding, and she’d solve the problem quickly and retrieve Bear unharmed, but she needed to plan for the worst.