The Darkest Craving. Gena ShowalterЧитать онлайн книгу.
glass shattered in his hand, cutting his skin.
Stupid demon.
He dabbed at the wounds with a napkin.
He waited, but Taliyah said nothing more. “That’s all you have for me?”
“As if Neeka is that poor of a spy. I was just waiting for you to digest. So get this. Petra was seen buying a key to Séduire.”
Séduire. The kingdom of the Fae, though many humans lived there, located in a realm between realms. Some immortals could flash there, moving from one space to another with only a thought. Most could not. Kane was among the could-nots, so, for people like him, a special key was needed to open one of the invisible doorways.
“If this Petra is following Tinker Bell’s scent, and she bought a key, Tinker Bell must have returned to Séduire,” Kane said, thinking out loud. Finally, he had a location.
“Tinker Bell?”
Disaster growled.
William scooted into the seat beside him, saving him from having to answer. The warrior was without his usual random woman (or six) and scowling. “What are you doing here, Ice Witch, and how did you find us? We’re on a boys-only vacay.”
Taliyah rolled her eyes. “I just answered those questions for Kane and won’t do it again for the likes of you. And what a way to say hello, Man Whore.”
So. The two hated each other now. Interesting.
William looked at him, and Kane could see the excitement banked in his eyes. “You’re just going to let her talk to me like that? I should pack my bags and leave you.”
“I should be so lucky.” Kane signaled for another whiskey. The glass shattered as he downed the liquid inside it, and he choked on a shard. Coughing blood, he stood. “I’ve got to find a key. Don’t call me if you need me.”
What are you doing? Disaster demanded. Don’t leave the Harpy. She’s mine. I want her.
Taliyah reached out and grabbed his wrist. He … felt no pain, he realized, and no desire, either. Apparently no one’s touch affected him like Tinker Bell’s. “Remember what I told you.”
Yeah. He remembered. No one could know she wanted the fortress.
“What did you tell him?” William demanded. “You might as well confess. I’ll just bug the answer out of him if you don’t.”
Kane rolled his eyes, knowing he’d be dodging William’s annoying prods for weeks, but walked away before the Harpy could respond and never looked back.
THE MOMENT HE was outside, Kane whipped out his cell phone. Yesterday, he’d taken a snapshot of Danika’s painting and saved the image as wallpaper.
In it, he was on his knees, tears streaming down his face, hands lifted toward the heavens. A blonde female lay in front of him, a hole the size of his fist burned into her chest. Her face was turned away from him, so he had no idea who she was—and wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
The painting was a problem that would have to wait.
He called every black market contact he had, looking to buy a key to Séduire. He would also need a guide, since he had no idea where to find a doorway. But one call after another proved unfruitful. No one was able to help him.
A sense of urgency drove him, and he paced toward the darkened alleys about a mile from the club. There, immortals would be peddling their wares. Drugs. Sex. Anything and everything. Even if he couldn’t find a key, he could find someone who knew someone else with the contacts to help him.
A thick white fog suddenly rolled in, and he paused. Through the density, he could just make out the shape of a … woman? Oh, yes, definitely a woman. She glided toward him, and he could see she was wearing a glowing white dress. Long, dark hair fell over one delicate shoulder, reminding him of …
“Tinker Bell?” he asked, shocked to his core.
Disaster banged against his skull.
Kane raced to her, tried to grab her despite the pain it might cause him, the unwanted desire, and whatever she’d done to him in the forest, but his hands ghosted through her.
Her eyes were as white as the fog and as luminous as the most expensive diamonds. “Would you please stop calling me that?” she said, exasperated. As freaky as she looked, the normalcy of her voice surprised him.
“What’s going on? Are you … dead?” Even uttering the question made him want to kill someone.
“I’m not dead. I’m simply projecting my image into your mind.”
Relief was like a gentle rain, dousing the budding rage—and the overwhelming sorrow he didn’t want to explore. “Exactly how many abilities do you possess, woman? And what exactly did you do to me in that forest?”
“There’s no time for that. I’m weakening, and must hurry.”
Weakening? In a snap, the rage returned. “Why?”
“Doesn’t matter. Listen, Lord Kane. I know I’m not your favorite person right now, and you probably don’t trust me, but please believe me when I say you’re in grave danger.”
Him. Not her. Better. “More danger than usual? And don’t call me Lord Kane. I don’t need a title.” Not from her. “I’m just a man.” Your man.
The thought hit him with the force of a tsunami, and he fisted his hands. His body was suddenly rock-hard, ready to prove the claim, to strip her and take her as he’d longed to do in the forest. A temptation he found as exhilarating as it was frightening.
Can’t touch her.
But if he could …
What would she do? How would she react?
How would he?
Would her skin be as soft as it appeared? Would her curves create the perfect cradle for him?
A few feet away, the lid to a trash bin flew open. As the wind picked up, debris propelled toward Kane, most assuredly courtesy of Disaster.
Tinker Bell stomped her foot. “I can’t concentrate when you look at me like that,” she said.
“Like what?”
“Like I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like you want to strangle me or something.”
Or just wanted to get his hands on her. But he got what she was saying, knew his desire was tangled with darkness.
He nodded, ashamed of himself. “I’ll stop.”
She licked her lips, and said, “My people know you’re looking for me, and now they’re hunting you.”
“Your Fae family or your human one?”
“Fae.”
“And that’s who you’re with right now?” he asked, wanting to verify the information Taliyah had given him.
“Yes. I don’t know what you’ve heard about the race, but the Fae can be brutal, bloodthirsty and without a shred of compassion. They’ll haul you before the king and he’ll sentence you to death just for looking at me. No matter how star-struck he is by you!”
He wasn’t sure what the star-struck comment meant, and wasn’t going to waste time finding out. “Why would he want to kill me?” The only viable answer slammed into him, and the patent stillness of a predator came over him. “Are you his lover?”
She gave another stomp of her foot. “Would you be serious?”
“Answer me.” The words were nothing more than a hiss.
“Of course I’m not his lover! What a disgusting prospect!”
He relaxed—and he had no desire to ponder