“You a doctor or something?” Alex asked, his tone teasing.
“Or something.” In spite of the fact they would be meeting her officially in a few short hours at the team’s first practice, this wasn’t how she’d imagined introducing herself. And she couldn’t bring herself to tell
“Thanks,” she said.
“No problem. You think you can stand up?” He offered her his hand.
Emmy was struck dumb momentarily when she met his eyes. She shifted her gaze, staring at his hand like she didn’t understand what its purpose was. “Stand up?” She must have still been woozy from the fall.
“Like, on your feet?” Alex suggested. “Did you sustain any head injuries we didn’t see?”
“No,” she said with forced certainty and took Tucker’s hand, letting him draw her up to a standing position. The front of their bodies brushed against each other, making her cheeks flush. His chest was hard and toned and felt warm through the threadbare material of his shirt.
Too bad she couldn’t blame her blush on an imaginary bump to the noggin. What had gotten into her? She
“I have to go.” She pushed herself off him, letting her touch linger a moment longer than was respectable before snatching her hand away and giving herself a stern internal lecture.
Her bike hadn’t sustained any serious damage, so when she climbed back on, the frame was still in excellent shape to help her make a speedy getaway, though her knee protested something fierce.
“Hey,” Tucker called after her. “What’s your…?”
His voice trailed off as she turned a corner. She realized too late he’d been trying to ask her name, and she’d run off without so much as a backwards glance.
She’d just completely blown off Tucker Lloyd.
Jessica Moore thrives on misery. Literally. Thanks to a goblin’s curse, she gets a magical high from humanity’s suffering. A shameful talent like that could bury a girl in guilt, so to atone, she uses her dark power to hunt murderers, rapists and other scumbags—until one of them frames her for his crimes.
In desperation, Jessica seeks refuge with the one person she trusts to not turn her in—a satyr named Lucen. Like every member of his race, Lucen uses his lusty magic to control Boston’s human population, and Jessica isn’t immune to his power. But the murder victims belonged to a rival race, and when they discover Lucen is harboring Jessica, dodging the cops becomes the least of her problems.
With only five days to find the real killer, Jessica faces a danger far more serious than the brewing magical war. The danger of succumbing to Lucen’s molten seduction.
I slumped off the sofa, and my butt hit the floor with a thud. Dull pain flew up my back. Add that to my despair and every pred in a ten-mile radius probably knew I was having a bad night. No wonder Lucen wasn’t touching his wine. I provided enough of a buzz.
“Little siren…”
“You mean stupid, dead woman.”
“Jessica, it won’t be the end of the world. Hitting that Gryphon with a chair was not in your best interest, but it was in mine, so I appreciate it. But so what if the Gryphons decide you can’t be trusted among humans anymore? You’ll live among us. You see we’re not so bad.”
I twisted around so I could laugh in his face. “Yeah right. Except when you’re all trying to turn me into an addict. From my perspective, that’s plenty bad, thanks.”
“Has anyone tried to addict you yet?”
“Not yet, but Dezzi’s counting on my help. When she’s done with me, any of you could.”
“And I’ve known you for ten years. If I wanted to addict you, I’d have done it. Don’t you think?”
Actually, no. I didn’t know what to think about that. Never had. I should have kept my mouth shut, but fear made me angry. “No. I don’t know all the details about addictions. For all I know you’re waiting for the right time. For one of your addicts to die or something.”
“You know as well as I do that I could cut one or all of them loose at any time. It’s not a question of not being able to handle one more.”
“So why wait? You could break my will just like that.” I snapped my fingers.
“Do you think I’d enjoy that?”
“I know you would.” Oh yeah, I was earning a Ph.D. in stupidity tonight.
“You’re right. I would.” Lucen scowled and flopped back on the sofa.
I held my breath. Maybe I’d gotten lucky and my outburst wouldn’t get me in trouble, after all. Strange, but I was almost sad about that. I’d primed for a fight. I had anger to expel.
Then Lucen sat up, the scowl gone and replaced by a devious intensity. My stomach twisted. Okay, perhaps a fight hadn’t been a good idea. And I hadn’t gotten lucky. But it was too late now.
“Actually I’m far more insidious than you give me credit for. Your gift was cursed. My magic is inherent in my nature. You can’t compete, and therefore can’t really comprehend what I’m about. But, you see, being evil is a lot like sex. The release is fantastic, but the release is fleeting. It’s the buildup to the release that’s so sweet and lasting. Once I break you, it’s over. Done. But this way I can toy with you for a while, build your fear, prolong the anticipation—ten years so far—and savor the possibility that one day I’ll be too tempted not to finish you off.” He reached toward me, and I stiffened. “What do you think now?”
His fingers brushed my hair. My blood raced, but my breathing stopped. I couldn’t move.
Lucen pressed in closer, and his breath coated my ear like honey. “I haven’t touched you in ten years, little siren. Ten years because you simply asked me not to. What…” He tugged off the band around the bottom of my braid. “Are.” Started undoing the twist. “You.” I wanted to tell him to stop, but I was paralyzed. “Afraid of?”
The last of the braid came apart in his hands. I shivered, breaking the paralysis. “The potential.”
I closed my eyes, wondering what I meant. The potential for him to break me? For me to lose myself and become emotionally attached? For my humanity to drain away? I didn’t know. I didn’t even know whether I should take that speech of his seriously.
Lucen’s hands were on my shoulders now, and my ability to think clearly was fading. “I would never hurt you, little siren. I promise.”
I wanted to believe him, always had, but it seemed suicidal. All the promises in the world didn’t change what he was. He’d practically said as much me to the other day. He was what he was. He did what satyrs—what preds—did. He enjoyed it, and he could do it at any time. Letting him touch me was like baiting a lion. The best animal trainers could get away with it for a while, but occasionally their beasts turned on them.
Lucen’s cellphone rang in the kitchen. Saved by the bell, or the ringtone, rather.
It rang again, and he made no move to get up.
“Aren’t you…?”
“This is more important.” He moved closer, and his knees pressed into my back.
“But it could be Dezzi with information.”
“I doubt it’s urgent. She’ll leave a message. Jess.” He ran his fingers through my hair, lifted it off my neck.
