Artistic Vision

That got his attention. “Shit. You meant you were working, didn’t you?”

She gritted her teeth. “How attached are you to your balls?”

He had the audacity to laugh down at her. “Pretty damn attached.”

She pulled his head closer. “That was Tristan Malmayne. He might have given me an in with the Malmaynes if you hadn’t fucked it up.”

“They know who you are and who you work for, remember? Didn’t you damn near hand out business cards the day Duncan explained to his ex-clanmates why Charles Malmayne had been executed, and by whom?”

She grimaced. True, she’d told the Malmaynes in the room who she was and backed up Duncan’s declaration that Charles’s execution had been legal and fully justified. That didn’t mean she still couldn’t work the case the way Robin had asked her to. Besides, Tristan hadn’t been in that room, may not have gotten a good enough look at her through the satellite feed Duncan had set up. She could have pulled it off, especially the way Tristan’s hands had been inching up her skirt.

Shane lifted his head and pulled her so close she could practically feel his heartbeat. “Your mom called. She said hi.”

Akane bit him through his shirt. The son of a bitch had been talking to her mother?

He pulled her head closer with a happy sigh. “She also said happy birthday.”

Akane attempted to lift her head. It was like trying to lift a Chevy Tahoe with her pinky. Damn, the man was strong. She usually snapped people like twigs when they annoyed her, but Shane was made of sterner stuff. He was the only person she’d ever met, other than Robin Goodfellow, who could physically haul her places she didn’t want to go. She’d kicked him once, and instead of the satisfying sound of bones breaking, he’d barely grunted. “You’re dead. You know that, right?”

She felt the rumble of his chuckle under her cheek. “Dance with me, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes. He was not going to wiggle out of his imminent demise that easily. “Sweetheart? Since when?”

“Since the moment I saw you.” He allowed her to lift her head, and she was under no illusions about that. He allowed it. “No matter your form, no matter what Robin asks of you, remember one thing: you belong to me.”

The song changed, slowed, and Shane began to dance. He moved against her with a sinuous grace that shocked her. For a brief, shining moment she pictured them moving together like this in bed, and she damn near came on the spot.

She had to get away from him before she did something she’d really regret, like rip those clothes off him and screw him right in the middle of the dance floor. Hell, with the way her luck was going recently Tristan Malmayne would offer to join in.

“Dance with me. Let’s give Mr. Malmayne a real show.”

Akane glared up at Shane but couldn’t hold it. He was right. If she couldn’t seduce Tristan the way she’d originally planned, she’d seduce him by being in someone else’s arms. She followed Shane’s lead, dancing with him the way she’d meant to dance with Tristan. She kept the majority of her attention on Tristan, watching him, gauging his reactions to see if it was working.

It wasn’t. He’d already found himself someone new to play with, a pretty little blonde with deep brown eyes with just a hint of… “Oh shit.”

“What?”

“The blonde with Tristan?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s Robin.”

Shane paled. Good. The man had some sense of self preservation. “Wow. He moves fast.”

She exchanged glances with her partner, relieved when the man nodded and headed for the door. “Time to go.”

“You have what you need?”

She looked back, only to find Tristan watching her leave with Shane. His expression was chagrined as he realized he wouldn’t get another shot at her. Little did he know. Akane planned on giving him as many shots as he wanted to take. “Yup.”

She headed for the door of the bar, Shane one step behind her. When they exited the building she braced herself for an unwanted meeting with the Hob. “Etienne, did we get what we needed?”

“In a way, oui.” The French Sidhe shrugged. “His thoughts were filled with you, but his mind is sharp. He almost detected my meddling. I was barely able to touch on the information we needed. We’ll need to set something up again where he’s distracted by you.” Etienne gestured to the side of the building, away from a group of people heading into the bar. “Personally, I was surprised to find a Malmayne in a place like this. It’s not up to their usual standards.”

Akane nodded. “The lord of the manor slumming it.” The place wasn’t bad at all. Akane had spent many a pleasurable hour in bars much like this one, where the drinks flowed freely and the music was loud and driving. It soothed some of the wildness in her to get out on a dance floor and give in to her dragon, if only a little.

“Maybe he feels free to do so knowing Henri and the girls are in New York.”

Akane and Etienne stared at Shane. “How do you know that?”

“I ran into them there briefly. I didn’t stick around to chat, though. They were kind of irritated with me.” Shane shrugged. “It might have been the face full of slush that did it.”

Akane opened her mouth to ask, then closed it again. She did not want to know. She turned back to Etienne, ignoring Shane’s amusement. She’d have to find out from Robin if any Blades in New York were keeping an eye on the trio. “What did you learn?”

“Not much. He is perturbed by Henri’s insistence on obtaining Leo Dunne’s seed. He believes he overheard something that may mean Henri is planning another move on Ruby Dunne. But that was all I got before he began to suspect something was wrong.”

“Shit.” Shane moved to Akane’s side, firmly putting himself in the situation. She wanted to tell him to back the fuck off, but Ruby was special. All the Dunnes adored the human Leo had mated, and with good reason. She took everything the fae had thrown at her in stride, never losing herself in what had to seem a strange, crazy world to the mundane female. She’d even managed to make Robin a good friend, a rare deed. If Robin found out Ruby was in danger once more, he’d pull out all the stops and never even tell her about it.

There would be bloodshed in the Black Court, starting with Henri Malmayne. And Robin would be far from subtle about it.

“Have they officially become Black Court? I thought they were still White, if only technically.”

She was surprised Shane was the one who asked. She’d assumed the Malmaynes had gone Black, but if their allegiance was underground it might explain why the few good Malmaynes had remained with their clan. There were probably a few who did not approve of Henri’s plans for the clan, but she bet there’d be more who would if they knew about them.

“No. Glorianna has issued no proclamations to that effect. She’s still investigating the allegations on her own, and she’s let stand her pronouncement of Henri as their lord.” Etienne rubbed his hand through his long, dark hair. “Which means we could trip over her agents at any moment.”

“Or worse, find ourselves fighting them.”

“We don’t know who they are or what angle they’re taking. This could be bad.”

“My darlings, leave Glorianna to me.”

Akane jumped. She should have caught that wild, intense scent before the man spoke, but Robin had a way of creeping up on even the most sensitive noses. She turned to face her boss, her expression deliberately bland. “Good evening, Robin.”

Robin Goodfellow, aka Puck, aka the Hob, one of the scariest men on the planet, was a tall, slender man with the wiry build and broad shoulders of a swimmer. He had waist-length, red hair that danced around him in a fiery halo, and laughing blue eyes in a face that would have made Michelangelo weep. The Hob was dressed tonight in a caramel-colored silk shirt that complemented his bright hair and tight leather pants that showcased his slim build. Leather boots completed the look. He looked like a fairy-tale prince with a modern twist, and he reveled in it. The