Briana gripped the gearshift, but didn’t put her car in reverse. She needed another second to clear her head. Probably a waste of time when Lucan’s proximity had shaken her so completely.
If she drove by and caught a glimpse of the redhead right now, she wasn’t sure she could contain the cat that wanted to shred the mortal to pieces merely for knowing the feel of Lucan’s hands on her.
Maybe it would be best if she waited for the pair to leave—
The back wheels of her car left the ground without warning, metal grating and shuddering as the hood buckled in front of her, the sound almost masking the snarl that escaped Briana.
She stared at the immortal crouched mere inches from the cracked windshield separating them. Even hunkered down, she could tell he was big. Over six and half feet tall
The sword strapped to the Fae’s back surprised her. Most Fae, the oldest of Avalon’s immortals, tended to rely on their magic to defend themselves or on bargaining to trick their opponent into sacrificing the edge during a confrontation.
The stranger’s defined muscles guaranteed that he not only knew how to use the weapon, but that he’d had a lot of practice with it.
The Fae didn’t pay her any attention, his focus entirely fixed on Lucan. His lips curved in a chilling smile, that of a satisfied predator. He hadn’t stumbled across Lucan by accident.
He was hunting him.
The Fae leaped off her car, releasing a screeching war-cry. The unnaturally high-pitched noise made Briana clap her hand over one ear. She fumbled for the door handle with the other and shoved it open.
“Go!” Lucan was gone between one moment and the next, his phantom body dispersing and rematerializing behind the Fae that dove over the top of a parked truck to reach him.
Sensing the movement behind him, the warrior spun around, sword in hand. The glyph on his forehead pulsed as if alive on his skin.
Lucan slashed out with his claws, but his attacker dodged the blow.
“Leave, Briana. Now!”
Another screeching war cry brought her to her knees, making it impossible to go anywhere even if she wanted to. The cat hissed at the ear-piercing pain right along with Briana.
The Fae needed his voice box scratched out.
The vehicle closest to her shuddered as something struck it hard enough to move it a few feet. A second later something flew over her head—the Fae?—a pained groan replacing the war cry.
Throwing herself forward, she gave herself over to her animal half, knowing she risked exposing herself. Lies could be spun to explain a black panther on the loose in the parking lot. It was Vegas, after all. Explaining away the phantom shape facing off against a sword-wielding steroid junkie would be trickier.
The momentary discomfort of bones and muscles realigning as she shifted form was over before the Fae was back on his feet. His sword came down, catching the long shadows that hovered over him. Instead of dematerializing and reappearing as she’d witnessed Lucan do before, he seemed to solidify at the blow.
Victorious, the Fae pivoted to deliver a second strike. Springing forward, Briana put as much force behind the momentum as possible, connecting hard with his chest. Her claws gouged instead of maimed, but her teeth found the meaty tendons in the warrior’s shoulder as they struck the ground.
Tearing hard, she scrambled back to her feet. The smell and taste of her enemy’s blood pulsed through her, heightening the instinct to eliminate the threat. Head low, she snarled and swung around for another attack.
A sharp kick slammed her into a parked Jeep. Pain exploded along her side, but she didn’t stay down. Lucan had gone entirely phantom again, his claws making contact this time.
The Fae howled, the sound so much worse than the war cry. Stars erupted behind her eyes at the excruciating pain slicing through her head, streaking across her vision. The ground felt uneven beneath her paws, her body hovering on the verge of shutting down to avoid the agony.
The cry was silenced a moment later. Free from the weakening chains of pain, she gave chase when the Fae pivoted to retreat between two cars. He dove over a third before ducking behind another.
“Briana!”
Lucan’s voice sounded like he was underwater, her hearing still suffering from the Fae’s vocal assault. She skidded to a stop. If he was hurt and needed her…
Retreating, she padded back toward him.
“He’s gone.” Lucan peeled back the edge of his T-shirt, the movement exposing the wound that became visible as his human body rematerialized. Blood splashed on the concrete.
She growled at the sight of the injury and turned back around, scanning the parking garage. The taste of the Fae’s blood lingered, driving her to hunt and pursue her enemy. The scent of him tugged at her, giving her feline half too much control.
“Easy.” Lucan’s fingers brushed the length of her fur. “Not even the almighty tracker can follow a ghost. He’s gone.”
Instinct demanded she make sure of that, but warred with her need to stay close to Lucan. Eyes on the parking lot, she rubbed against him. She felt the cat inside her slowly retreat, leaving her in her human form once more as she crouched next to Lucan.
“You sure he’s gone?” She didn’t wait for a response. “How in the hell did he hurt you? I thought you guys were almost impossible to injure.” A trait that made all wraiths invaluable to Rhiannon, and as far as Briana knew, the goddess was the only one capable of incapacitating them.
Lucan ignored the question. “You shifted back.”
“And?” She cringed at the bloody gash along his side, guessing it was even deeper than it looked.
“You’re naked.”
“And?” Nudity was something all gargoyles grew comfortable with early on and given the time Lucan spent with first her brothers and then the Guard, he shouldn’t be surprised by that.
She ripped off a piece of his T-shirt, balled it up and pressed it to the wound.
“Do. Not. Move.” Jaw tight, Lucan avoided looking at her as he stood.
Briana resisted the urge to glance down and see just how much of the Fae’s blood she was covered in.
A car door slammed behind her.
“Here.” A blanket landed across her shoulders.
Vaguely amused, she wrapped it around herself, distracted by the blood that continued to flow from Lucan’s wound. It should have started to slow by now.
He nodded. “Don’t suppose he was just something extra special your Fae friends cooked up for your security stuff?”
“No. Dolan is good, but not that good.” And she sure as hell wouldn’t lose control of a glamour like that. “So you don’t have any idea who he was? I didn’t recognize the glyph.”
Although the mystical tattoos weren’t related to Fae family lines, they were often tied to particular territories in Avalon. The glyph on the warrior Fae’s forehead didn’t look like anything she’d ever come across. Between the Fae contacts she used for business and those she crossed paths with at Pendragon’s, she would have thought she knew them all.
“That makes two of us then.” Lucan hissed out a breath, holding his hand to his side. “Fucking burns.”
She ripped a strip off the blanket and moved toward him. “It’s not healing fast enough. You need to treat this. Mac should have something upstairs—”
“It’ll heal on its own.” Lips compressed, he stepped beyond her reach.
Fine. If the stubborn ass wanted to stand there and bleed, that was up to him. “He was hunting you.”
Seeming relieved that she was no longer trying to help him, his shoulders relaxed. Marginally. “Maybe. But he wasn’t here to kill me.”
If she knew where the Fae had vanished to, the cat in her wouldn’t have rested until she’d fucking ripped him apart.
The unexpected savagery of her thoughts alarmed her, and she mentally tightened her hold on the leash
